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loveabledirtbag · 1 year ago

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1.03 - brigade

what a chill opening. we learn carmy owns a coat, AND a hat? not just a white shirt and black pants. that’s what we call character growth, gang.

it’s amazing how in episode one we see the back of mikey’s head, in episode three we hear him say “let it rip, buddy”, and when he is finally revealed later on in the season i had NO idea it was gonna be who it was (more on that later). and now every rewatch when i hear him talk, or we see the back of his head i go “how could i not realize who the actor was playing mikey before it was revealed?”

i had NO idea that was molly ringwald at al-anon for the longest time. but i saw her name in the credits and had to think hard about who it could be! it was honestly like, “well….the only character who even remotely looks kinda like her would be the woman who spoke at the al-anon meeting, but there’s no way….right???” and then i googled it. yeah. that’s molly ringwald! this show does cameos so well. joel mchale last episode, now molly ringwald. so good.

i think it’s really good writing that when carmy attends al-anon for the first time, molly ringwald (i’m sure her character has a name, but i don’t know what it is) talks about “keeping my side of the street clean”, and that inspires carmy to implement it in his own “life”, his life being the shop. however, he doesn’t have the skills, the practice, the knowledge or anything to know how to implement “keeping you side of the street clean”. so he does the best he can with what he has: kitchen systems. which to him means implementing a french brigade. i also love that in the long run doing that DOES actually help the shop, but at the end of this episode we’re kinda shown that it’s a totally shitshow flop.

“remove myself from any situation that is, or could become, toxic”…well, someone’s never worked in the service industry. and i think that’s probably the point? because to me that’s the bigger point being made in her speech, but carmy’s whole life right now is the restaurant, and the restaurant is a toxic situation, and carmy can’t remove himself from his whole life. so he chooses to focus on keeping his side of the street clean instead.

the hard cut to “remove myself from anything toxic” to what is, arguably, the most tense scene of the whole show until episode seven, is very well done. and so poignant. we go from “remove yourself from anything toxic” to jumping RIGHT INTO an extremely toxic situation: richie and sydney screaming at each other, a line out the door, people not doing their job right, the whole works.

also, i don’t want to anger any sydney stans. but i think it’s strange how many people i’ve seen saying that sydney is always perfect, and carmy is always an angry monster. because here is sydney just absolutely making the situation worse by meeting richie at his asshole level. he’s yelling at her, and she’s yelling right back. she’s actively NOT helping. in fact, carmy is the one trying to mediate, and trying to calm everyone down. i’m not trying to shit on sydney! i love sydney. but i’m pointing out that this show is very good at making everyone human. everyone is nuanced. everyone is at fault at one time or another and no one is perfect. im also not defending carmy for every instance. he makes mistakes. REPEATEDLY. but he doesn’t only make mistakes. here is a scene where carmy is trying to do it right, and sydney is at fault. obviously i haven’t even mentioned richie, but that’s because of course richie is at fault. it’s richie. the louder richie is is equal to how wrong he is in any given moment.

the man with the sysco hats orders 2 dogs with everything on them, and richie says “$5.25”…i mean, i know a dog isn’t the most expensive thing in the world, but damn. it’s not exactly a mystery why they were having money problems…i looked up a chicago style hot dog place near me and one dog is $6.25

oh damn, carmy at home, and he’s wearing a black t-shirt! so much character growth! we’re learning carmy owns other clothes!

i think it’s strange in the scene where we see carmy not able to sleep, and so he goes into the restaurant early. because manny, angel, and marcus are already there, but marcus asks “what are you doing here so early?”. that’s not necessarily the most weird thing in the world, bakers are usually the first in at a place, because dough and baking in general takes a lot of time. manny and angel could also be there early to wash dishes. typically dish washers work the hardest in a kitchen. but it is strange because this early into the shift how many dishes are there for them to do? if it’s only marcus getting his prep ready, i don’t think the shop needs to be paying for two dishwashers to wash the few dishes marcus would be making. keep in mind that the beef also only has two dishwashers when they are going through a wild and hectic dinner rush. i find it more believable that they’d need two dishwashers for a dinner rush (professional dishwashers are some of the most skilled dish cleaners you’ll ever meet. they’ll clean shit so fucking fast it’ll blow your mind) more than i believe they need two dishwashers right away in the morning when it’s just marcus prepping dough for sandwich bread. but that’s not even the weird part! marcus wonders why carmy is there early, but then sydney just happens to also be there. she’s just getting in, but she’s at the shop too and no one thinks its weird she’s there so early. and then just a few minutes later ebra is also there. if so many cooks are at the beef right away in the morning, why is it weird that carmy is there? we already know carmy is obsessed with the place and spends all his time there. and he’s also the one who is supposed to be directing everyone in their cooking, as well as helping with prep and cooking himself. so why is it strange that he’s there so early? i assume it is just the writers trying to let us the audience know that he couldn’t sleep?

i do love the sort of inspirational talk carmy and marcus have. where carmy is trying not to be triggered by thoughts of his past restaurant while looking at all the dishes he used to make, as he tells marcus stories, and as marcus is being inspired by them.

not that i’m the most knowledgeable person on cooking and kitchens, my time has been pretty limited, but TWELVE PEOPLE??? i’ve never heard of a dish that takes twelve people to make. by my best estimates with carmy explaining how to make the dish he only mentions maybe 6 people: the two chefs cooking down the plum wine. the person(s) cooking the plum consommé. which carmy says takes hours, so let’s just say it takes two shifts which means two chefs. the chef making the compressed plums. and then maybe a different chef who takes the consommé and makes it into the gelée. idk how you take six chefs and make that into twelve, but DAMN

carmy talks about these compressed plums cut into perfect squares, but there’s no square plums in the picture. which is so confusing to me. i’ve thought about this forever. i hate how much time this has taken up in my life. the plums are circular in the picture, but carmy says squares. why didn’t they write it differently? they had to have had the reference photo for the dish, right?

i like to think that the chef who cracked the plum gelée was luca from copenhagen. but as carmy tells the story we’re only getting flashbacks to his shop in new york, and we don’t have any evidence that luca worked with carmy in new york.

i’m glad that the show addressed being a woman in the kitchen. i know that being a woman in the service industry is getting better, BUT there’s still so much work and progress that needs to be made. obviously. and so we have two women in the beefs kitchen and one has learned how to be as tough as nails (tina) and the other has proved herself with talent, and is insistent that she doesn’t need any help with anything (syd).

it’s also poignant, because sydney is tiny and marcus is a giant with a golden retriever soul, and he just wants to help without even thinking of the fact that sydney is a woman. that’s obviously not an excuse, but i really believe marcus is just puppy-dogging his way forward and is just like “can i help? that thing is three feet above your head, but it’s at my eye line so i can grab it!” and sydney struggling with all her might is like “nah! i got it!” even though she clearly doesn’t got it.

the continuation of the tomato mystery!!! mikey was buying tiny little cans? even though the bigger cans are cheaper per ounce? whatta mysteryyyyyyyyyy????? (more on that later)

the short back and forth between carmy and ebra *chefs kiss*! again, ebra is criminally underused! even more so in season two (more on THAT later). but “english carmen!” “the more i understand about michael, the less i understand. rest in peace, young man” “who cares? we don’t use tomatoes anyway”. there’s nothing abundantly funny in the lines, but ebra’s delivery is just PERFECT

the conversation between carmy and sydney, specifically the conversation continually being interrupted, is just spot on. i don’t think i had a single meeting or important conversation with someone when i worked service industry that wasn’t continually interrupted by a million things. seriously, gang….management in service industry is just a fucking lot.

i think carmy’s idea makes a lot of sense, and also has some context to it. even in episode one carmy says he wants to start defining roles in the shop. i get sydney’s hesitancy because of her history in restaurants, and carmy does a bad job explaining his reasoning behind it. but if you’re dealing with a chaotic shit show, isn’t part of the answer introducing some order?

THAT BEING SAID: the moment sydney agrees to running the kitchen in this new system and carmy says let’s go is SO SHITTY. it might be one of the worst things carmy does in the whole show. reordering an entire restaurants workflow, when some of the staff have been there for DECADES, and putting the responsibility on the newest hire, and then telling her the moment she agrees that it’s gonna happen that instant and she’s going to be running the meeting where is being announced...it’s stupidity to the utmost extreme. i know carmy isn’t trying to be shitty, but FUCK dude. that is SHITTY.

“yo, carm the phone ringing” ….no shit marcus. it’s been ringing all morning, in carmy’s office. where carmy just came from. again, it’s probably a writers technique to show us that the phone ringing is something that we should have on our mind, because this shows sound design is very intentional, and it’s possible we could subconsciously think that the phone ringing is only meant to add to the chaotic sounds of the shop. but when thought of practically…carmy can probably hear the phone marcus.

once again, carmy talking about harnessing their gifts, organizing the special thing the whole team has. in my opinion he is coming from a place of respect, and love for these people (many of whom he has known for years) and wants to give them a chance that life has denied them because he knows they can rise to the occasion if given the chance. but i can also see where people could argue carmy is white-savioring, or “my fair lady”-ing, or some other toxic thing. but i do think carmy is going about this with the right intentions, and not as “i’m better than these peasants, they need my help”

what a weak pun by richie. escoffier/scoffi-gay. weak. i mean, yea, also homophobic and offensive. but what a crime to name puns. come on richie.

i wonder if it means anything that as richie makes the joke, the camera is on angel and he looks sort of annoyed and displeased at richie. we’re two seasons in without knowing much about angel, it could just be a camera cut to make the scene more interesting and dynamic, but for some reason angel is looking at richie and he doesn’t look happy

“i was in a brigade once” “what happened?” “many people died” GOD, EBRA! so funny! but also, fuck, that’s tragic dude! but then carmy’s “…o-okay, this is gonna be different”. is delivered so well. just the air of “i didn’t think i’d have to be telling people that a french cooking brigade would be different than a somalian army brigade…”

“like hierarchy!” “more like a regular chill-archy…” syd is so awkward, and this is one of those scenes where you close your eyes and groan because you wish she was anything but awkward. the writing, the acting. god, so good!

“i’m the sous, right? which means i just follow orders even if it leads to tension, and chaos and resentment and ultimately doesn’t work. but yeah, that’s what i do.” is SO GOOD. if any good person has ever been in a management position before, they KNOW that’s the eternal power struggle between owners and staff. and is also why i think the service industry desperately needs to unionize. because far, far, far too often managers have to voice something from ownership that fucks over the staff because part of their job is just to do as they are told, much like how staffs job is to follow orders from management. and it sucks! and if a good person is not careful, they follow orders and ignore their conscious and walk right off a cliff and suddenly they’re in a viral video talking to camera’s about how their staff deserve to work minimum wage without being allowed bathroom breaks for 12 hour shifts and how child labor laws are ruining this country, all because they’re just doing what the owners are saying and they forget that they’re in charge of actual human beings.

“chef de partie?” “yes” “…i accept!” GOD EBRA!!! i would die for ebra.

i love with the camerawork that from richies face we know something isn’t quite on the level with niko. we don’t know what (yet) but his face says “damnit niko, why are you calling? don’t mess this up for me and get me in trouble.” that’s added to by the subtle “i’ll hit him” from richie. he means “i’ll hit him back” as in “i’ll get back in touch with him and talk” but by cutting out the “back” it sounds a little more threatening: “i’ll hit him”, “i’ll punch him, because he’s gonna get me in trouble.”

also, it’s so beautiful and sad that carmy can’t see richie’s face. because he says that it felt like mikey was alive for a second. and richie looks like “i know exactly what you mean” but richie also looks like he’s saying “i can’t deal with that right now; because i’m barely holding on myself, so i can’t carry you too.” so richie says “no thanks” and carmy is just left to believe richie doesn’t care about him. just more assholery from richie. but we the audience know, oh, richie is broken.

i think the show does a decent job of showing anxiety and panic this season. BUT i think they go above and beyond in season two. the ringing and grabbing his heart is good, but season two really helps channel the anxiety

peep the crisp white sneakers on carmy’s feet as he walks into the church for al-anon. i know jeremy allen white is a sneaker boy, and i wonder if those shoes are just jeremy’s, or if they also wanted to give carmy some sick sneaks to go along with his denim love

quick peep at syd’s japanese knife. much like carmy’s japenese knives. i don’t know if anyone reading this knows about different countries knife philosophies and how their knives are designed to suit that philosophy (maybe philosophy is too strong a word…), but it’s interesting that carmy and sydney share a similar knife

ah, hiding in the walk-in because you need a moment to yourself to stop yourself from crying. i miss it and also don’t miss it. you know? maybe that’s ptsd? the scene is all the better because syd goes into the walk-in talking to the team with the most empty cadence a person can have. she’s saying what she’s supposed to be saying but she doesn’t believe a word of it herself. which also means the team doesn’t believe a word she says

ok. there’s very few good things to say about tina up to this point, which is probably why i haven’t talked about her much. but the fact that she clearly has so much beef with syd, but still she goes into shop-mom mode the moment sydney gets a cut. i just love it. every shop has a shop-mom and every shop needs a shop mom. tina is one of my favorite characters, of all time, and her journey is so well done this season.

and of course sydney doesn’t help anything by getting defensive and once again trying to prove how good and tough she is, instead of just accepting the care and help she needs.

and….of coooourse tina goes from trying to help sydney to then immediately turning the heat up on her stock and sabotaging her. because tina might be the shop mom, but sydney is annoying her, and trying to change everything, and so shop mom goes mama bear on her and fucks with her.

sloppiest “assumed” drug deal ever between richie and niko. like they’re looking around and trying not to get caught and somehow they miss that carmy is RIGHT THERE

here again with syd’s burnt stock, carmy is a little bit of an asshole. obviously we think he’s being more of an asshole than he is, because we know sydney is having a hard time being the sous in the shop with everyone against her, but carmy doesn’t. to carmy, he put the only highly skilled chef in charge while he left, and he gets back and no one is doing what they should AND sydney is (seemingly) making rookie mistakes which she should know better than to make. so he does get a little angry at her, and even from his prospective he could have been less intense, BUT from his view it’s like “how did you mess this up? this is cooking 101”.

again too, when sydney’s trying to explain that tina should be on onions, but tina’s on lemons and carmy just wants her to say “yes, chef” and do the onions…i have mixed feelings on. because, once again, we the audience know that carmy is being an asshole and not helping sydney’s already shitty day. but carmy doesn’t know about sydney’s shitty day (which is also his fault), and to his credit sydney trying to explain that she has tried to get tina to what she’s been told and tina isn’t listening sounds a lot more like whining than explaining. there are times and places, and right after being scolded for burning your stock is not the time to try and explain that the real problem is actually not you, but tina. is carmy ultimately way in the wrong? yeah! but he’s asking syd to say “yes” and in the moment she should have just said “yes”. your bosses makes mistakes, and when they’re telling you something, it’s not the best time to show that they’re wrong and you’re right. sometimes you just gotta say yes, and hate them in your head. and if they’re a good boss (like carmy is) you then go and talk to them when things are calmer. they have that moment later in the episode when things are calmer.

i’m not trying to say that people just have to put up with angry shit from their bosses…but in a moment of stress, ESPECIALLY when you’re in the service industry, sometimes you just gotta nod your head, take whatever they say, and curse them in your head. because in a heated and hectic moment in a shop, you’re not gonna convince them of the nuanced issues going on. that has to come later when things calm down and they have a clear head.

knowing that the hands that are prepping the food are actually syd’s and carmy’s hands (i know the actors have names, i’m sticking with syd and carmy) never ceases to amaze me. especially in the scene where syd preps the onions, because you can really tell she got skilled at it. with carmy they cut back and forth and so they can make us think he’s moving faster than he is, but they had a long shot of sydney just cutting, and she was zooming through. (the gif below is carmy because i was struggling to find a gif of syd cutting)

i always wanna know why the suqaar isn’t good? like, it’s so bad that sydney is near revolted. because ebra says it with such pride and confidence, carmy seems excited by it. but then when sydney tries it she’s so disgusted. was it actually that bad? or was sydney just in such a bad place that nothing could taste good?

those lowboys are SO gross. i have nothing else to say, really. just real bad.

it’s rather unprofessional that when “someone” took sydney’s onions she bursts out of the kitchen to the front of house, WHILE richie is hanging out and talking to a customer, to yell at him asking where her onions are. richie is working. obviously hanging out with customers might not seem much like working, but that’s front of house (FOH) shit right there. and to yell in front of a customer (which she and richie have been doing a lot in this episode) is just unprofessional from someone trained in the way of fine dining.

the small detail of syd having her overwhelmingly bad day, and when she goes into carmy’s office he’s just sitting there, and then the first thing he says is “we should be outsourcing bread”, which was 1) in her 30 page packet last episode, and 2) talked about just a few hours ago in the team meeting carmy skipped out on. it would be beyond frustrating. and we know that carmy is actually working, like, the guy stays late to hand scrub the floor, so he’s really working. but it just looks like he’s chilling while syd is running around, and that doesn’t help her boiling rage and panic.

the most painful thing is the world is sydney yelling at marcus about him offering to help her with something again, to the point that her hand is shaking and her eyes are bulging…and then he leaves and she dumps it all over herself. i’ve never been a woman in a male dominated workspace, but i have been someone who really wants to prove themself, and to then have it blow up in my face, especially if it LITERALLY blows up in my face like it does to syd, and the added shame of knowing you wasted a bunch of money (veal fat isn’t free), is stay-awake-at-night-reliving-that-moment kind of painful.

but, it’s also so sweet, and so relatable of marcus to come in after hearing the spill, to sydney standing there covered in her own mistake, and to wordlessly leave and come back with towels and help her. everyone in the world needs a marcus.

that first inkling of seeing HUGE payments to KBL electric! my brain was just like “oh shit, mikey was laundering HARD”

i love the scene where marcus tells syd that family dinner is ready, when syd walks out of frame we stay for just a moment on tina. tina cleaning her station. because to me i think it’s easy to assume, well, she obviously has to clean her station at some point while working, so it’s now. but after having a few back and forth moments with syd in the episode, where syd specifically asked her to clean up, i think it means something that tina is finally cleaning up. and knowing the arc she goes through in the next episode, i think this is like a seed being planted showing us that even tina is slowly being changed by the new system that carmy and syd are implementing in the beef.

i know that this is like the tiniest detail, that has also been talked about SO MUCH by people in the restaurant industry. but carmy drinking out of a plastic container hits to good every time i see it. i’m 29, i haven’t worked in food-food in like 8 years, and i still love using those containers as water glasses. THEY HOLD SO MUCH, plus you get them for free if you order pho from my favorite restaurant (and most restaurants where you’re ordering soup to go) so it’s like an added treat with my pho.

i do think it’s important that carmy can tell something is wrong with syd. only because he’s been so single minded for three whole episodes. missing cues from the people around him about the pain they’re in. i know there’s a lot of discourse on here about if the relationship between syd and carm is moving towards romantic, or showing the depths of a truly deep and trusting friendship/business partnership, either way i don’t care if the writing and performances are good. but it’s important to note that this is the first time carmy has looked outside of himself/the restaurant at someone else and noticed them for real. he went to find syd, and upon seeing her body language asked her what was wrong. obviously, most of what was wrong is because of him, but he still tried to make it better and showed that he’s the kind of boss who actually cares and is trying to create the best working environment for his staff as possible. he’s just human and struggles at doing it.

i’ve read a few people say it’s shitty that carmy admits to being harder on sydney than everyone else in the shop, but i really don’t think so. no one else has gone to school for cooking. no one else but syd can comprehend most of what carmy says or even understand his vision for the place. syd has been at the beef for a few days/weeks/maybe a month or so? and she’s now the number two over people who have been there for decades. so i don’t think it’s outrageous that carmy holds sydney to a higher standard. or is more upset when she sinks to richie’s level to yell at him, or when she isn’t able to properly make a stock. once again, i’m not trying to excuse carmy’s bad behavior, but my first day in a kitchen i was treated with baby gloves, but when i was a supervisor, and in charge of training people in, i would never hear the end if i messed up something simple. because i knew better, and carmy knows that sydney knows better.

i think it’s worth noting that sydney says “i think this place could be so different than the other places we’ve been at.” she says “we’ve been at”. not “i’ve been at.” she’s assuming, and assuming correctly, that carmy has also been in some terrible kitchens. and she’s assuming, and assuming correctly, that carmy is also really tired of it

i think it’s probably only really tv magic that we’re in episode three and sydney feels comfortable to tell carmy that she wants to partner with him in making the beef better, but that he also has to listen to her ideas. that’s a lot of trust in the emotional maturity and headspace of a boss that you haven’t really had any previous emotional connection with. like we haven’t really seen her and carmy connect or have a mutual understanding of the other. we haven’t seen him give syd a reason to think that he wants her to partner with him in improving the beef, or that he’s all that interested in listening to her ideas. HOWEVER this scene works because we know carmy so well already, and we know syd really well, and their chemistry sells it. so she basically says she wants to talk freely with her boss and be heard and listened to and instead of him shutting her down like 90% of bosses would do, he says “you’re absolutely right, and i agree.”

and for her leap of faith, we see carmy open up to her! carmy opened up! he’s trying to work through his gunk! it’s so good!

FUCK BRUNCH

ok. i love brunch. but i hated working brunch. it’s the worst shift in the world.

the scene where carmy comes out of the beef on a break, cigarette hanging from his lip, his hair a particular kind of wild, to listen to sugar’s voicemail…that is the vibe and look i have wanted to replicate from the moment i saw him, and i have no idea how to show the person who cuts my hair because the look is just “sweat and grease” and that’s a hard ask in a salon chair.

i like the flow of learning its michael’s birthday, with us returning to the beach with carmy. because it makes the fact that carmy heard mikey say “let it rip, dude” more powerful. carmy is thinking of mikey on his birthday, carmy’s been thinking of mikey all day, and it’s been nagging at him and weighing on him and everything he has said and done has been because today hurts worse than most other days have.

the question then becomes: timeline-wise, is carmy at the beach the same scene that started the show? we know that only a day has passed, did carmy wake up and go to the beach, and then after work go to the beach again? i’m sure someone with more attention to detail could tell me if the sun is in the same position in both scenes, or if the sun is on the opposite side of the sky in one from the other. but it mirrors the opening so much that it kinda feels like we opened on either the beginning of the day, or the end of the day, and now we’re closing on that same visit to the beach, to remind us of that trip and to put the day into a greater context with mikey’s birthday. if i had to bet, i would bet that both scenes happen at sunrise, because we have a shot of the shop while the dinner rush is happening and it’s dark outside. like past sunset dark. we know they close late, like 10/11pm late. which is far after sunset. so if carmy is walking outside while there is a sliver of light, it’s probably sunrise.

UFFDA, i love this episode. i feel like it slowed way down (except for that one scene during a lunch rush), and amped up both the emotional ante, and the comedy. the next episode to me is like a mid-season finale, because it wraps up some major themes and storylines and opens up some new ones, but we’ll talk more about that in episode four!

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #marcus the bear #sydney the bear #the bear tv #tina the bear #the bear review #the bear series #carmy the bear #richie the bear #liveblog #live-blogging #the bear episode three #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto

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justatalkingface · 2 years ago

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Idk I feel Himiko and Izuku have great potential as parallels; both people shunned by society due to quirks, but one took the light path while the other took the dark, but it seems MHA forgot there was any kind of link between the two to begin with

I mean, sure. But how do I put this... Toga is the Potential Character.

Just... every part of her, honestly, is filled with this untapped potential to work with:

How do people react to a 'villain's Quirk' like hers? Does the average person even think much of it? Were her parents just crazy?

Potential.

What was it like, with this kid being basiclly blood starved her whole life, when she first transformed? What did it do to her head? Was her first transformation that kid she killed, that she liked? How did that fuck with her head?

Potential.

When Toga went on the run, in that span of time between 'normal-ish girl who just broke and killed someone' to 'memetic Toga, serial killer', what was that like? What made her like that? How long did it take?

Potential.

The thing is Toga, as presented to us, is this almost one dimensional character: she likes to kill. She's crazy, to the point of literal delusion, when it comes to how things work. She likes blood and her friends. That's it.

And there's just... so much to work with, with her story. She has, more than any League member, a tale of just plain corruption from a normal person into the monster she is now, and there is just... so much concept with that story Hori is just flat out ignoring, skipping over, or replacing with something simpler and less interesting. Her story, properly implemented and worked with, there could be an entire ass manga just about her slow descent into villainy.

And yet, she has all this screen time, but it's just so shallow that it's honestly frustrating to think about.

She has potential with Izuku as outcasts, like you said, comparing their low origins, the way Izuku was helped and she was hurt, and how they both started from Average People into people of great power and influence. She has potential with Stain as blood drinkers and blade wielders who rebelling against society, for vastly different reasons. She has potential, technically, with Ochako as people who like Izuku* (and just... let me get back to this, I'm sorry but I'll make it make more sense). She has potential with Shoto, Dabi, etc, with her history of parental abuse.

(*Ok, the way the manga presents this dynamic? Shit. Absolute shit, I hate it. But if it put any thought, or work, into it at all... there's actually some interesting elements to work with. Izuku has no self respect. He thinks he's universally loathed. And this girl likes him. Loudly. This is made clear to anyone in the general area because she's really not subtle about this. And Izuku just has... no context for a girl liking him, at all; canonly, he has no context for a girl even talking to him before UA. How does he react to this? What does he think?

And, in a more realistic setting, that's something that wouldn't just be ignored whenever Toga wasn't on screen, if only because he'd probably have one or two existential crises over having a female villain (because of both of those words!) like him (and also, Responsible Authority Figures would probably realize that makes him a potential target and, you know, do something about that. Maybe implement a code word system or something, because Toga actively hunting you is nightmarish in an Among Us kind of way). Like, hell, it could be a launching point for a character arc on him redefining himself from Quirkless Era Lack of Self-Respect to something more realistic for who he is, and you know, make him reassess his past in general.

And the thing is Ochako does like him. Or did at least. But, since this starts when her crush is still relevant.... What does she think about this? How does this make her react? Does that make her push her affections? Give her perspective and give up on feelings as a childish crush? And how does she bring that reaction back to Toga?

Because the thing is, as much as this chick fight-y format gives me some real bad vibes, there is a potential to it fundamentally, but it's something that would take work and development and some actual respect, which Hori just refused to give to... literally everyone involved in this situation.)

All of that is there, but we're never going to get it, because as much potential is there as a character, Hori clearly prefers her as the Yandere Blood Waifu and we're never going to be able to past that into anything deeper, anything more.

#ask #mha critical #bnha critical #toga's giant untapped potential as a character #give me a tokyo ghoul style AU manga about her slow descent into villainy #preferably with no AFO or him just way in the background #hori's chronic hatred of women

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dreamingdarklyblog · 1 year ago

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So what to write?

So I'm trying to think of what to write for my writing partner. He got called away before he could get off, and that's just no fun. Though I did get him to fuck my big soft tits and cum allll over them... Mmm...

If you're confused by how those two thoughts make sense it's because the tit fucking happened all in my head =/. I mean, that should probably be obvious since I don't have big soft tits, lol

It's also kind of a let down, cause... Well I guess it depends on how it's implemented somehow, but the way he does these things I don't have a lot of control over what happens. I mean I can more and do whatever, but because everything else is happening in my head, it can be hard to interact with it in like, unscripted ways?

Basically I really wanted to blow him and have him cum down my throat but I couldn't even get a taste, tried licking it off my tits but I guess my brain just couldn't make it happen. *sighs*

I'm not sure what the difference is, as I'm not generally awake for that part, but I've done uh... similar things before, and it worked okay. So there's something different I'm not seeing. *shrugs*

Aaaanyway. I'm trying to think what I should write about, and I figured actually I sorta did write about one thing earlier today when I was trying to make him cum.

So he asked me to like, make up stories about images and gifs for him to jerk off to? Which is pretty hot ;). I mean, I'd rather blow him, of course, but if the things in my head are getting him off, that's great too.

So anyway... I'm doing that, making up stories, and then I hit one and I started making one up and I realized, wait a second, I don't have to. Cause I've basically done this one before. So the gif is this lady sucking a guys cock by some trees, and I start telling him a story about how she's out for a walk with her boyfriend, and he whispers in her ear and she just HAD to suck his cock...

So yeah that totally happened to me when I was younger. The same guy as the classroom story I told you earlier. Really all these stories of me going along with really stupid shit were all that guy. We were young and stupid. I was reeeally far gone into how hot the hypnosis kink was, and making some REALLY poor choices, lol. And was letting him get away with stuff I really shouldn't have. Way worse than this. But yeah.

One of those things was a blowjob trigger. I know right? So creative... Did I mention we were young and stupid? I don't know if I always would have had a thing for giving blowjobs, or if it just started because of him abusing the fuck out of it, but yeah, I've had a thing for sucking cock ever since. But like I said, he was my first for a lot of things (including that) so maybe it's like, hypnotic conditioning, or maybe it's just the totally standard "formative sexual experiences establish very strong neural connections" thing. But like 95% of the physical stuff we did was what you'd call 3rd base. Oral, manual, etc.

So it was a pretty established trigger. I knew it existed, but not what it was, still don't really. We were out on a hike to a place not that far from here, a fairly popular hiking spot. There's lots of those around here. There were other people on the trail, we'd passed a few as they came back down, and could occasionally hear other groups in the distance behind us. The hike wasn't that long, about a half hour or so. And when we got to the top of the trail, at the nice scenic overlook, he sorta pulled me in and kissed me. A kiss with intent, I'd call it. I kissed him back, but pushed him back a bit. I didn't really want to make out in a public place. I was pretty embarrassed by the thought of getting caught (and we'd already been caught in the parking garage at school like the week before).

He smirked. And I had about two seconds to be concerned before he said something, and I wanted his cock.

That's how sudden it was. Always was. I just wanted it. Really badly. I kind of clenched my hands and closed my eyes I think, biting my lip, reminding myself we were in public and I couldn't suck him off. But I heard him say something again and my knees got weak. All I could see were scenes of me sucking his cock. His glorious cock. Rock hard and filling my mouth with cum. I wanted it so, So badly. I opened my eyes so I'd stop seeing those images, those thoughts, and I saw him. All I could see was his crotch. The jeans he was wearing. The zipper. His belt. It was like the rest of him vanished. The forest vanished. The world shrunk.

I was breathing hard. Trying to control the urge, trying to say something about it being a bad idea, but I don't know what words actually came out. And then he said something again and I couldn't think anymore. My knees gave out. My mouth was open and moaning. My hands were fumbling with his belt, waddling towards him on my knees as he back-peddled away from me to the side of the clearing. He was saying something like "Stop, Wait" but I didn't care. I needed it. I needed his cock in my mouth. I needed his cum down my throat. It was all I could think about. I could taste it. I was desperate. Like I was drowning and it was a giant inflatable cock for me to float on while I sucked it dry. Yes, terrible metaphor, what are you gonna do?

He kept trying to pull away but I wouldn't let him. I couldn't. He had the cock and I needed it. He couldn't leave! I yanked his pants down and grabbed his ass so he couldn't back away, but he tripped over his pants and fell on the ground. Bare assed on moss and dirt. I just followed. I was on my hands and knees over him, his legs under me, his cock in my mouth, and that was the only thought I had room for. His cock was in my mouth! I had it! I was sucking his cock! His amazing, perfect cock that I needed more than anything!

I sucked and slurped but, he was barely hard. He was talking but I couldn't really hear him. I assume telling me to wait, or get off, or something like that. But I really didn't care. I had his cock and that was all that mattered. I stroked him with my hand, sucked on the head, frantically trying to make him harder, moaning around it in my mouth. I'm not sure what worked exactly, but clearly something did, because he quickly got hard. Rock hard. I bobbed up and down, stroking him faster and faster. I wanted his cum. So badly. I needed it.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position so he could push my hair back (it was longer then) and put his hand to the side of my face. He was still talking, I ignored him and just sped up. He was so close. I could taste it. Literally. I could taste his pre-cum and it tasted So fucking good. I was moaning louder. I could feel myself getting more and more worked up too. Which was a thing that seemed to happen when I sucked his cock. I wonder why? (sarcasm)

I heard voices coming from down the trail. He tapped me on the head, once, then again, then repeatedly. Probably trying to get me to stop, but I didn't care. I couldn't care. He was going to cum. I could taste it. That was all that mattered. I just sucked harder, my neck was straining. I knew somehow if I didn't hurry than he wouldn't cum. That I wouldn't get to taste it. And I couldn't let that happen. I needed it! So I did the only thing I could think of and sped up more. My tongue was circling the head of his cock while my hand pumped up and down frantically. I was moaning, gasping for air around his shaft, when he finally came.

I could finally taste him. Exploding. I could hear him gasping. Feel him twitch and pulse. Every glorious spasm. It filled my mouth. I gulped, swallowing as fast as I could, and I felt that heat spreading through my body. That taste. I could feel the heat burning through me. Feel my body pulsing in time. Feel it building and building as I moaned and gulped and shuddered and Came.

So hard.

I lay gasping and moaning and twitching on the ground. In that little clearing. As he pulled away and pulled up his pants. Zipping and buckling. I caught my breath and pulled myself together. Straightened my clothes and took a big gulp of water. Then blushed furiously as we quickly left, passing another group on their way up, who gave me so strange looks.

Was it because I was blushing? Was it because they had heard what happened? I have no idea.

Anyway. Most of the walk back down was me telling him what a colossal moron he was, and to never do that where we could get caught again... >_<

Sadly he... Wasn't a great listener. *sigh*

#young and foolish

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djsangos · 2 months ago

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its fine i also took a minute to get back to this weve both got lives it happens

hope everythings alright

so what im learning lately is that 9 times out of 10 if a civilization falls hubris was probably the #1 cause apparently

'the eradication of all existing life was a worthy sacrifice' cod damn if that doesnt sound horrifyingly familiar why do so many people operate this way

and now you guys are dealing with the consequences of that guys hubris it really is all hubris all the way down isnt it

thanks i guess but it did take me a minute. and also becoming captain to really implement much change about it but thankfully gramps' attitude started changing a little bit too

its harder to rationalize whats happening when youre actively partaking in invading the 'enemys' homeland to indiscriminately attack and steal back what they stole first

like sure i guess neither side in this conflict was really in the right but was all that really fucking necessary when a better solution was staring us right in the face

the theft of the great zapfish couldve been avoided if

i dunno

all the octarians' attempts at getting power in other ways werent always immediately thwarted by an old man stuck in the past?

like i love gramps im really glad hes changed his mind about a lot of things but come on

but tbh i get it when youre deep in the trenches of danger its hard to get your head out of the mud and take a proper gander at the propaganda against the backdrop of live combat and war

wait hang on those are actual bars cod damn

anyway at least you realized eventually right

ill accept the luck anyway theres definitely some shit im still just as blind to

like the grizzco bullshit cod the grizzco bullshit how did i let THAT slip under my radar for so fucking long

yeah space bear long story

or i guess the bear wasnt FROM space he was from earth but he used a space ship and went to space in the service of his Master Plan so

space bear

as for our funding lets just say the former captain has some rich relatives

not that hes ever paid any of us directly which is why we all have other jobs and all this is entirely an If You Can/Want To sort of situation

most of us just stuck with it because were freaks i think and tbh i think im too in over my head to just bail now even if i wanted to (which i dont)

i help my agents financially when i can obviously but mostly doing just freelance gigs isnt exactly the most stable income but hey album sales have been gaining traction so that helps

but yeah im a dj

until recently ive mostly just done remixes or live sets but i did release my first actual original album a little while ago

my style can vary i typically just throw whatever im thinking/feeling into the song im working on and go from there

which apparently tends to come across as more eccentric/alternative according to listeners idk

but that process is exactly why i only have one single original album release even though ive had my name as a dj out there since i was like 16

music im pretty sure is important to every culture but its super important to us fish people to us its the truest form of expression/communication in addition to just being really fucking hype and fun to listen to so when it comes to my songs i get all self conscious about what it is theyre saying without me even really meaning to say or i feel like they say something a little Too private for an audience it so a lot of my original works go unreleased its just the way it goes

anyway enough of me yapping what kind of music do you like gladiia

Apologies for the delayed response; a small matter was brought to my attention, and I had to swiftly resolve it before it became any less small. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain.

To answer your question, the existential threat we face are called the Seaborn, though we now know that name to be somewhat inaccurate. Centuries ago, we made first contact with them in the depths of a benthic canyon. We found a mostly-slumbering form of strange, alien life. It was more adaptable than anything we'd ever seen. Not only could it acclimate almost instantly to any environment, including vacuum, it could mimic the form and function of anything it consumed. The few awakened terrors resembled a chimera of native wildlife, and had become the apex predators of their ravine. We quickly moved to contain this species, as it had already disrupted the local ecosystem, and if left unchecked could be disastrous. We failed.

We recently uncovered the origin of this plague: these monsters that forever grow, forever evolve, which have taken control of vast swathes of the ocean; monsters that adapt to every weapon used against them; monsters that have learned to take on the form of our weapons. They are not natural, but manmade. Built by the hubris of an ancient civilization that must have believed it could defeat death, if only it could make something stronger. Perhaps fearing the eradication of all life at the hands of an unknowable threat, a threat we have only seen the briefest of glimpses of, it created a form of life that could survive the end of everything. But life survived that civilization's fall, and it may not survive the consequences of what they left behind.

The Seaborn may have slumbered forever in the laboratories that contained them, an unfinished work of pure arrogance, had it not been for one of Ægir's own scientists. Fearing the return of the apocalypse that wiped out our precursors, he awakened Ishar'mla, the great titan among those the Seaborn call the Firstborn. The eradication of all existing life was, in his eyes, a worthy sacrifice for the preservation of life itself.

I applaud you for recognizing the folly of your command on your own. I was not so quick to catch on. Perhaps the severity of the threat made me blind to the depths of Ægir's depravity.

I wasn't ignorant to Ægir's faults, but I rationalized them as functional necessities. It's easy to believe that you're doing the right thing, that nothing can be done about the cruelties you witness around you, when your skies are so darkly clouded you cannot imagine a sun beyond them. I'd wish you luck in keeping a moral righteousness in your command, but you don't seem to need it.

...

Hold on a second, space bear?

Thank you for elaborating. It may say something about me, or perhaps about Ægir, that it's difficult for me to imagine a military whose operations are not fundamentally intertwined with law enforcement and civilian bureaucracy. Where does your funding come from, if I may ask? It's a militia, so I have to assume it's not from some public institution. I can imagine some system of self-sufficiency in the sale of services, or a reliance on donations from members or the public, but I don't wish to assume anything.

I've left this for the end, if only because it's the subject that's caught my interest the most. You're a DJ? For what sort of music? Can you offer any comments on your style? Systems of government, nations, militaries—of course I'm interested in these things, for they've occupied much of my life. What truly captivates me, however, is art and expression.

#ic #in-inertia #//that bit about music being super important to fish folks isn't exactly canon it's more of a headcanon #//but given just HOW important music is in the world of splatoon i'd be willing to bet it's true #//also oh my god this is So Much to type....... whoops

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antiloreolympus · 2 years ago

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5 Anti LO Asks

(Note: All of these asks are before episode 206 (Season 2 finale) so some may be dated.) 1. to me if the narrative was just honest hades is a shitty person then id probably love how awful he is, but no instead it's rachel insisting he's actually this perfect romantic lead and everything he does is good and just when thats not true?? like I don't think she means it to be this way, but it (hopefully accidentally) comes across as her excusing/romanticizing a predatory, abusive man who borderline gr//ms persephone into being his "perfect' bride and we're just not supposed to notice.

2. I would think, bc Persephone wanted to use the trial to distract from her crimes to instead be like "look! i'll be the white savior and free the good slaves!" I have thought Hades, in the 10+ years she'd been away would have, maybe, implemented that system? To make the place more equal and see her plan come to fruition? But I guess he would rather make the slaves work even MORE and make everyone else miserable than even do ONE decent thing for once. He's literally so awful it's insane.

3. I don’t know if I’ll be able to articulate this, but Zeus and Minthe are more “enjoyable” antagonists than Persphone and Hades as protagonist.

With Minthe and Zeus, I feel like their characters are more well rounded? Minthe hates Persephone, but stands up to Thetis when she needed to and broke it off with Thanatos when Hades agreed to be more serious committed relationship. But also her goals and motives are clear, and recognizes her flaws even if it doesn’t always push her to be better (but honestly the way hades forced her out, I too would lose my shit) Zeus is a cheating, scum bag husband, paranoid king. But he does love (most) his family, like his new relationship with Artemis I adore because of what Artemis has been through and I love how she’s not even fully comfortable with him either. Zeus isn’t even half wrong to be paranoid about Persephone, he now know he has an air plotting against him (with reason for his mother getting banished) and Zeus knew that Persephone and Apollo are somewhat associated with each other.

Zeus and Minthe have done some terrible things BUT they’ve stayed true to their character and have even had better development. And it too less time too compared to Persephone and Hades.

Persephone-I don’t know where to begin with her character. At first we believe she didn’t have real friends because all the nymphs were lowkey spies of Demeter and Artemis was her real female friend (was she being classist because she’s a goddess?) (she also seems to heavily favor Hermes) but season two she did have 2 friends that were murdered and at the end of season two these two friends didn’t have names. Nor did we learn anything about them personally other than Persephone made them (what were they like? How could we tell them apart from Persephone and each other, they’re both highlighter pink). Persephone is first semester into school and is studying biology I think. After hanging out with Hades for like 3 weeks or something she wants a law major and become a citizen of the underworld (EVEN THO SHE JUST MOVED IN WITH ARTEMIS) she has HUNDREDS OF YEARS TO LIVE JUST FINISH THE FIRST DEGREE YOUVE BEEN IN CLASS FOR 2 weeks. And then Persephone doesn’t fully realize her actions on situations even when characters point them out to her. Her class mates “are you sleeping to the top” Minthe “my ex will spoil you like he did me” Zeus “you can’t get what you want just like my brother use to do with you.” Hades literally shielded Persephone from the law for a long ass time, they shared a bed, Persephone is the first paid intern, she has new clothes, tried take out, bunch of pens, lingerie (gross coming from an old man), all thanks to Hades! And are those characters wrong? NO! Sure the context of each comment wasn’t good, but they’re not wrong.

AND THEN HADES? WHAT IS HE SUPPOSE TO BE, tragic oldest lonely sibling past, beginning of the story misunderstood/bad man/lonely, to mess, to groomer predator, to obsessive “I will burn the world down if I can’t get my barely legal wife sorry I mean gf” What I can’t get behind his character is we’re never shown him enjoying Minthe as a partner, yet he picked her, and apparently has begged her to stay, but we never see him actually enjoying her company which makes it so hard for me to take his part of the relationship seriously. I’m sorry RS if you want to sell me their relationship I gotta see them actually happy where he’s not fantasying about a pink highlighter. And then his relationship with his family, I don’t like him as a Hera/cheater even tho Leuce is also in Greek mythology (if there was a first love route) how does he feel fine being around Zeus?How do Hera and him not look at each other in disgust and further more Persephone is Hera’s niece who is still hella young by their standards . Hades is also dick as a boss and king. He’s literally giving special treatment to the hot young (unqualified) intern. And treated his (assume older than Persephone) foster son like shit. BUT WERE SUPPOSE TO ROOT FOR THIS CHARACTER???

4. Regardless of what her intentions are (and for the life of me I don't get how Rachel thinks making Hades OWNING SLAVES is a good idea) slavery to even non-Americans is tied to the subjugation and abuse of BIPOC people, especially Africans. I'm not saying she is racist, but can you really blame anyone for thinking so when she writes and glorifies stuff like this? Donating once to a BLM charity when it was popular to do so two years ago doesn't change the fact she's doing this in 20-goddamn-22.

5. I think one of the issues with Lore Olympus is that it started (well as an original anyway) 4 years ago and like. Not much has happened at all??? Like no wonder people get tired and stop reading this comic

#anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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rinarecommends · 4 years ago

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Affliction

Here’s my contribution to the Villain AU bnharem collab! You can find the other submissions here!

I hope you enjoy!

Affliction (n): something that causes pain or suffering:

“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

You stared at the TV and continued staring at it, even as the breaking news passed and regular scheduled tv resumed. When did it all go wrong? It seemed like just yesterday, you dreamt of working with heroes, helping to make the world safe, but it had been 2 years since you abandoned those aspirations, for love, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“Dumbass, I’m home.” You heard a familiar voice echo through the apartment, but you didn’t say anything, too lost in your thoughts.

“Y/N? Are you home?” You heard him ask, but your brain couldn’t process the words to reply, to tell him yes, you were home, where he should have been hours ago instead of out destroying the city with the league of villains.

You heard his footsteps getting closer, but the sound of them faded as your thoughts raced to figure out when it all started, when everything went wrong.

You met Katsuki Bakugou during your first year at UA. You were a first year student, but you weren’t in his class, instead you were in the support course. Each kid in first year support was paired up with a first year hero student, to be their support tech throughout the duration of their stay at UA. You were lucky enough to be paired with him. He was everything you thought a hero should be. He was strong, brave, and he had a good heart, even if most people couldn’t see it because of his rough exterior, loud disposition, and ego, but you could, you had always been good at reading people. The first time he actually acknowledged your existence was after the sports festival.

You remember it like it was yesterday. You were in your little corner of the support lab, tinkering with a gadget you had designed for a project that PowerLoader had assigned to you.

You heard the door slide open, roughly, but you didn’t pay it any mind, support kids were sometimes rough, especially if they were deep in thought about a gadget or design they were working on.

“I’m looking for an extra named L/N. Where are they?” You snapped your eyes up at that, met with a sight of wild blonde hair and a lean, muscled physique in a UA uniform. The person closest to the door gaped at him and just pointed in your direction, making him snap his eyes, landing his sight on you. You gave him a short wave, indicating that you were the person that he was looking for, for whatever reason.

“You’re supposed to be my support tech while I’m at UA. I need modifications and shit to make me stronger. I don’t want anymore wins handed to me the way the fucking sports festival was. I’m aiming to be the undeniable number one. If you can’t do that, tell me and I’ll find someone who can, get it?” His voice was sharp with an edge to it, and you realized that this was a pivotal moment, in what would become of whatever relationship you would have with this boy. He was essentially telling you that he was going to be number one, and you had to be number one as well. If you couldn’t, he’d find someone who could. Were you the best? No. Did you want to be the best? Yes. Your answer to him was simple.

You smiled at him and said, “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.” His answer was a grin that showed his pointy teeth and spread across his face. If only you had known what was coming. “Y/N? Why are you crying?” Katsuki’s voice snapped you out of your memories and suddenly you were aware that he was shaking you. You gasped and snapped your eyes towards his, meeting his ruby red eyes.

“I wasn’t aware that I was crying.” You muttered out, wiping your eyes, finding them wet, indicating that you were actually crying. He looked at you.

“You weren’t aware? Can you at least give me a reason as to why you would be crying?” He sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. You breathed in his scent, something that used to calm you, but it just made your chest feel heavy, with the strong smell of nitroglycerin from his quirk and the dirt and flecks of blood, that probably wasn’t his, from the destruction that he’d caused somewhere in the city.

“Katsuki.” You said his name. He hummed in acknowledgement, his face had made its way into the crook of your neck, peppering kisses there, showing you affection. “How did we get here?” You voiced the question that had been wracking your brain for so long, something that you asked yourself so many times but never found an answer that you were satisfied with.

He grunted. “What are you talking about babe?”

“How did we go from wanting to save the world, to destroying it? How did we get here?” You asked softly, trying your best not to anger him. His temper was shorter these days, even shorter than back at UA. He’d never laid a hand on you, but you weren’t really sure what he was capable of these days. You weren’t even sure who he was. He looked like your Katsuki, but that was where the similarities to the boy you fell in love with ended, except for the small moments when he made love to you or showed you affection.

“Y/N.” He said in a warning tone. He didn’t like talking about this. He had never given you a straight answer, never gave you a reason. He only asked you to follow him one day, to walk away from Support Course and UA, and you did because you loved him, more than anything. You sighed, not letting it go, even though that’s probably what he thought you were doing, but you wanted to choose your next words, your next step, carefully.

Katsuki Bakugou, you had discovered while working on his equipment, was everything people had said he was, but he was also nothing like they said he was, at the same time. He was loud. He was Vulgar. He had an Ego. He was hot, but he was also kind, in his own way. He was brave. He was determined. He was smart, a genius really. You could tell he was softer than he let on. In the months since he slammed into the Support lab, you had gotten to know him, and he had shown you his kind side, in private, and in public. He had brought out parts of you that you hadn’t known existed. He made you feel things. He made you want to be better so that you could always stay by his side because you knew he was going to do great things. He made your stomach flutter with butterflies. He made your skin burn when he touched you or grazed you. He made your heart race when he came into the room sweaty after a workout with Kirishima. You liked him. You really liked him.

“So. When are you going to let me take you out on a date, or are we just going to keep up with the glances and flirting?” He grunted out while sitting beside you on your workbench, as you were working on modifying his gauntlets. You froze for a second before snapping your eyes to him, dropping whatever was in your hand. You just gave him a look before smiling softly.

“I thought you’d never ask.” you stated, going back to work on the task at hand.

“That doesn’t answer my damn question, dumbass.” He snapped, but all you did was giggle at him, making him snort.

“I’ve wracked my brain the past two years, wondering why we were doing this, why were we leaving everything behind, everything we believed in, to destroy things we were training to protect. I can’t find an answer that satisfies me. I don’t understand what could have made the boy I fell in love with decide that he wanted to destroy hero society instead of be the #1 Hero.” He pushed you off of his lap, landing you on the couch where you were before he pulled you onto his lap. He sighed in frustration pulling at his hair.

“Why does it matter so much? You’re the one who agreed to come with me, you’re the one who followed me because I asked you too. I love you, is that not enough?” He hissed out at you, you flinched because he’d never taken a tone like this with you, but his face softened when he saw you flinch at his voice.

“The league just gave me reasons to destroy hero society as it is and rebuild it, that’s all. The heroes you know, we know, aren’t good people at all. Endeavor abuses his kids and wife, why do you think Todoroki was so emotionally fucking constipated when we were in school with him? Best Jeanist is more worried about appearances as a hero than actual hero work. I could go on, but I just, I just can’t be a hero in the society as it is today, if things were different, then maybe we’d still be at UA, or even graduated, but this is the world we were given, Y/N. This is what’s right. Why can’t you see that?” He had gotten on his knees in front of you, grabbing your hands to hold as he said this. You let his words sink in. He had finally given you an answer, albeit a very vague one, but it was progress, right? Sadly, it wasn’t enough. It didn’t satisfy you to the point where you felt comfortable continuing to build him gadgets to help destroy hero society and the city. It didn’t show you a glimpse, a sliver, of the boy you used to know. All you saw was someone that you loved, without a doubt you loved him, but you didn’t know him at all. Shigaraki and his goons had twisted him somehow.

“I followed you because I love you, but you’re hurting people Katsuki. INNOCENT PEOPLE. The boy I love, the one that was determined to win and be the best hero there is, may have been temperamental, egotistical, but he NEVER hurt innocent people. I can’t continue to make equipment for you that’s going to be used for demolition of the city and innocent people’s suffering. Everytime I look at the news, I see more chaos, more destruction, and my heart hurts a little bit more, and I feel a little more guilty. It’s eating me up inside, that I’ve helped you for the last 2 years, but unlike you, baby, I don’t want to lose who I was completely. I love you, I really do -”

“Are you leaving me?” He breathed out, as if the concept of losing you struck a chord within him, as if it was something he was scared of, but you were scared too. Who were you without Katsuki Bakugou? What position did you play in this world if it wasn’t by his side?

“I -” He cut you off again, not allowing you to answer his previous question.

“Do you remember when I told you I loved you for the first time?” He asked looking at you, deep into your eyes, as if he was looking at your soul. What kind of question was that? Of course you remembered, it was one of the greatest days of your life, one of the best feelings in the world was knowing you were loved by Katsuki Bakugou.

You nodded.

You looked up at the sky, watching the fireworks glitter in the sky. The hues of colors make your heart soar. You felt Katsuki grab your hand and squeeze, making you turn away from the show to him.

“I have something I want to tell you.” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear him. You smiled at him and nodded indicating you were listening, but he didn’t say anything else. You quirked your brow up at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze, so you turned back towards the show in the sky.

“I love you.” You heard him say making your heart stop, snapping your eyes back to him, away from the show once again. You opened and closed your mouth, repeatedly, not expecting that he’d be the first to say it. You loved him, more than anything, but you had been scared to tell him because you didn’t want to ruin the relationship since it had only been 5 months of dating. You knew Katsuki was slower on the uptake with feelings, especially his own, so you kept quiet for the time being, loving him in silence, but here he was confessing his love to you.

“I know I’m not the best at this relationship thing, but you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel something besides anger. You don’t look down on me because of my attitude, and you don’t put me on a pedestal because of my quirk. You just let me be myself- “ you go to say something, but he holds his hand up, indicating for you to be quiet.

“When you smile at me, you make my heart stop. Your laugh makes me get those cringy bullshit butterflies in my stomach, and you’re so smart, possibly the smartest person I know. It’s like you complete me, make me want to do better, to be better, as if I wasn’t already aiming to be the best. All of these things and so many more make me love you. I love you, Y/N.” He took in a breath as he finished his monologue, but you didn’t let him get a good enough breath before your lips were moving against his in a slow, passionate kiss, showing him that you loved him too, before you told him. He grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer to him, deepening the kiss, making your toes curl. They say when you kiss someone, you feel sparks if it’s a right fit, but with Katsuki you feel like a live wire, full of energy and alive. You felt tingles down your back. His kiss was like another form of breathing, you don’t know if you’d ever be able to survive without it again.

“I love you too, so much.” You breathed to him as you pulled away. He smiled softly, an expression that he reserved solely for you and kissed you again. A simple peck

“Yeah?” He said, lips grazing yours, in an almost kiss. You beamed and nodded, bringing him into another slow, passionate kiss.

“How could I ever forget that?” You muttered to him.

“I still feel the same. I still love you. You’re still the only one who makes me feel alive, still the only person that’s ever given me shitty butterflies. You;re the only light I have left in my life, Y/N. If you leave me, what’s the point in trying to make the world better? I don’t give a fuck about anyone else in this city, besides you. I’d burn the city to the ground if someone told me that was the only way to make sure you were safe. I’d kill, steal, and destroy for you, nobody else, just you. Fuck Shigaraki. Fuck Dabi. Fuck Twice. Fuck all of them. I didn’t join the league because of them, I did it because I want the world to be a better place for you, a place worthy of your existence.” He was on his feet again, pacing, pulling at his hair. It was if he was in a frenzy of, dare you say it, psychotic rambling. Words about how much he loved you and what he would do for you kept pouring out, but they didn’t do anything but make you sadder, hurt you more.

“Stop.” You whispered, but he obviously didn’t hear you because he kept going on and on.

“Stop.” You said a little louder, still not getting a response from him.

“Fucking STOP KATSUKI.” You yelled, your emotions finally getting to you. Tears poured down your face like streams of water. He stopped, turning to you instantly at your yell.

“Just stop.” You said, “I don’t know what has made you think that this world is not worthy of my existence, but you’re wrong. I am fine with this world the way that it is. It has its flaws, but every society does, nothing is perfect, no one is perfect. I don’t want you to do anything for me, not kill people, not burn a city down, none of this should be done for my sake, don’t blame these actions on me. I can’t watch you do this anymore. I love you more than anything, and it used to be my favorite thing to do, love you, but it just brings me sadness and pain now. It hurts to love you, for who you are now, because this isn’t you, this can’t be you, can’t be MY Katsuki. My Katsuki was a hero, is a hero. He wants to win, wants to be the best. I tried to accept you being a villain, because not all villains are bad people, just in bad circumstances, but this is too much, you are too much, loving you is too much. It’s like an affliction in my heart, and I just can’t do it anymore.

Tears were running down his face and he fell to his knees.

“If I don’t have you, what do I have? Please…. Don’t leave me baby. We can figure this out. I can stop. We can be heroes if that’s what you want. Just don’t go. Stay. With me.” He breathed out, voice barely audible, only loud enough for you, and you alone, to hear. You thought about it. You didn’t want to leave him, that was the last thing you wanted, but after seeing what you have seen, could you stay?

You stood in the middle of the crowd, watching All Might’s last fight as the #1 hero, except you wouldn’t know it was his last until he uttered the words “now, it’s your turn.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” You heard the gruffness of his voice before you saw him, spinning around to see him beat up, bruised, but alive, he was alive, that’s all that mattered to you in that moment. You had told yourself that you weren’t going to cry. Katsuki didn’t like it when you cried, but the sobs took over as soon as you got a good look at him. He grabbed you and pulled you into his chest, consoling you, reassuring you that everything was okay, that he was okay, that you were back together with each other again and you’d never have to be without him again.

“I thought you were going to die, I thought I was going to lose you, Suki. I can’t lose you… I just can’t.” You said wiping your tears furiously, trying to get yourself together for him. He grabbed your hands from wiping your face and pulled you towards him again, this time you felt a soft peck on your forehead.

“I’m here.” He said to you. You nodded at him, looking up into his eyes, pools of ruby that you loved so much, that you didn’t think you could live without. Maybe if you had looked closer, you would have noticed the dullness that had started to take over the sparkle, maybe you could have changed the course of what was to come.

It happened three days later. You were decorating the dorm that you had to move into with the rest of the support course, following Katsuki’s abduction. You turned your head when someone knocked on the wall beside your door, since your door was open as you were decorating. You were surprised to see Katsuki standing there, in civilian clothes.

“Hey babe. What’s up? Need some repairs already?” You teased him, but he didn’t smile, didn’t snort, didn’t make a comment about how he only needed so many repairs because he was the best.

He walked into your room and shut the door.

“I’m leaving UA.” He muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear what he said.

“What are you talking about?” You said, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why would he leave his dream school? Did he want to go to another Hero School? Did he not feel safe at UA anymore?

“The league made me an offer. I’ve decided that I’m going to take it.” Your world halted at those words. What kind of offer could the league have made to make him quit his dreams of being the #1 hero? What could they have said to make him join their cause?

“The league… made you an offer?” you replied to him slowly, hoping that this was a weird daydream, a walking nightmare. He just nodded.

“What kind of offer?” You asked him. The only answer he gave you was a shake of his head, a muttered “it’s not important.” It was important though. What did this mean for his dreams? What did this mean for your dreams that involved him? What did this mean for the two of you as a whole?

“I want you to come with me. I don’t want to be without you, and I’ll need repairs for the things I’m going to do.” He said after a pause in the conversation. You looked at him. What could you say? You had always wanted to build support items. You wanted to make tools to better the world, until you met him. He became your dreams, your aspirations. You wanted to make things for Katsuki, for him only. You wanted to propel his dreams of being the best, to make them a reality. If this was what he wanted to do, if this was what he had chosen, there had to be a reason, a good reason. You trusted him. You loved him.

You nodded.

“When do we leave?”

“I can’t stay, Katsuki.” You said, tears rolling down your face, continuously, no matter how much you tried to make them stop.

You headed towards the room that you two shared in the rundown one-room apartment that he paid for, somehow. You grabbed your bag and packed the few things that you had accumulated in the two years that you guys had been hiding out from everyone. You had somehow never been found, even though you and him were declared missing, even though you were in plain sight. Katsuki had dyed his hair black, gotten some tattoos, some piercings, so that nobody would recognize him. You had dyed your hair as well. You wanted tattoos, but you were too afraid of the pain.

“How can I fix this?” He asked, watching you pack, taking things out of your bag as you put them in. You sighed and stopped to look at him.

“I don’t know if you can fix this, Katsuki. This is never what I pictured our life together would be like. This isn’t what I wanted. It’s not what I thought you wanted, and I just… can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of hiding, tired of chaos and destruction. Hero society may have some corrupt heroes, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t good heroes, worthy heroes. It doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been different, changed it by being the change.”

A tear slipped down his cheek. His eyes pleading with you, almost making you want to stop packing, to stay, to just keep helping him because you love him, but you knew, deep down, that you couldn’t. This was the right thing to do. You were being a hero, in your own way.

You zipped up your bag, fully packed with all of your stuff. You looked at him, taking him in. This was the love of your life. You’d never love someone else the way that you loved Katsuki Bakugou. You loved him fully, wholly, deeply, intensely. It was an all consuming love. The kind of love that some people never got to experience in their life, and you were walking away. You had to walk away.

“I love you, Katsuki Bakugou.” You said as you turned around and walked out of the apartment, out of his sight, out of his life.

*2 Months Later*

It had taken 2 weeks for Katsuki to stop calling you multiple times a day. 3 weeks for him to stop calling you every day. One month to stop calling you every other day. A month and a half to stop calling at all. Your phone hadn’t had his name across your screen in 2 weeks. You wondered if he was okay. Had he been eating? Sleeping? Had he been hurt? If so, was it because you weren’t there to make repairs for him?

You had returned home, to your parents. They had stared at you when you showed up on their doorstep, as if they didn’t believe that it was really you, after 2 long years. They had hugged you for what felt like an hour as they pulled you into the house you had grown up in. They hadn’t asked you any questions, maybe they didn’t want to know. The police had come around a couple days after your return, asking questions, but you didn’t give them anything. You wouldn’t tell them that the villain who’d been causing mayhem was Katsuki. You wouldn’t rat him out, you couldn’t. You left him, but you didn’t want to see him in jail, you still had hope that there was something in there, something that still knew the values of heroism, that wanted to be the best. You had told them that you and Katsuki had broken up, but you wouldn’t tell them where you had been, what you had been doing. You just wanted it to be over, to try and make up for the wrong you had done, to repent for your actions.

That’s how you found yourself sitting on your parents’ couch in the living room, sifting through papers to get certified to work in the support field, thankfully there was a certification program that was similar to having graduated from a support course in a hero school. It wasn’t UA, but it was something. Your parents weren’t home, so you were left to your own devices. You had the TV on for background noise, you weren’t even sure what channel was on, focusing on what you needed to complete to get into the certification program.

“Breaking News: The League of Villains has been taken down. A raid on their current hideout occurred this morning, with heroes apprehending all members, including Tomura Shigaraki. The raid was able to occur because of inside information given to the police.

Two years ago, Katsuki Bakugou, then a student of UA went missing along with his girlfriend and support course student, Y/N L/N. It turns out that he left UA, taking Y/N with him for support, and joined the league, having been convinced what they were doing was right, but 2 weeks ago, he turned himself in, told the cops everything that he had done, everything that the league had planned. In return for this invaluable information, he got a reduced sentence of 3 months in a correctional facility, followed with Community Service for 8 months. He also will be able to apply for a Hero License in 3 years, if he wants, as long as he has good behavior throughout the 3 years until that point. Concerning Y/N L/N, he hasn’t indicated that she had anything to do with this, and there is no proof that she committed any crimes.

Today was a win for heroes and civilians alike. After the seemingly endlessly high crime rate, society may actually see a drop now that the league has been detained and headed to Tartarus.

Following this raid, there will also be an investigation into hero society, due to information on certain heroes, like Endeavor, that has been revealed. Heroes are not above the law, they are just like everyone else.

More information will be given when there is more to add.”

You stared at the TV, eyes wide. Katsuki… had turned himself in? You looked at the mug shot they showed of him, when he turned himself in. Black Hair. Tattoos. Piercings. Sparkling Ruby Red Eyes, as if a light had been reignited into them. Was this because of you leaving? You were inclined to think so, at least in part, and the thought of Katsuki being in a facility, broke your heart, but it also mended it. At least he wasn’t hurting innocent people anymore. At least he had done what was right, in the end.

You leaned back into the couch, heaving a sigh. You felt as if a weight had been lifted off your chest, leaving him had alleviated it some, but this, this news made you feel like you could breathe again.

Your phone vibrated beside you, you answered it, not looking at the screen, assuming it was your parents or one of the few UA classmates who you had met up with when you returned, surely they had seen the news, some may have even been in the raid.

You put the phone to your ear.

“He -” You started but you were interrupted by an automated voice that began talking.

“This is a collect call from inmate Katsuki Bakugou at Shizuoka Correctional Facility. If you would like to accept the call and charges that apply, please press 1. Fees will accumulate for every minute over 15 that the call lasts. If you want to deny the call, please press 2.”

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lexpressobean · 3 years ago

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I've been thinking about these 3 alot...

... and how much they seem to really respect Shino. I know it's a filler, but, like... Why does it seem like Shino has a knack for finding children who have wondered off away from school? Like, he's just taking a walk, making his way around the village or surrounding forest, and then there they are. Kids playing hooky or some shit. And Shino just takes it upon himself to approach them and steer them back to where they should be, while getting them attached to him somehow in the process??

But honestly. If this was just one of many times this had happened, I'd say Shino does this not out of his knack for teaching or having a way with kids. Rather, he developed a way with kids and easily applies that to his teaching because he has a strong desire to simply protect children. And it's not even from some paternal instinct as much as survival, because I think it stems from the developing trauma of losing Torune to Danzo. And I don't think it's all subconscious either.

Like I know the novel and anime frames his desicion to teach as a sort of a new goal in life as the war has ended for a couple years already and a noticable Peace has been achieved by the Blank Period and well... He's an Aburame.

Like, the Aburame are literal living, breathing, walking bioweapons. With no fight to utilize that, what else is there? Well, much like the Nara have the Nara forest and Pharmacology specifically, The Aburame most likely have a historical stake in the area of Konoha, perhaps it was simply in their Ancestral Home. Idk, but they're here to stay, they ain't budging. They're Clan Culture is very Martial and I'd argue Spartan in nature, but otherwise, they do other things too. I think they'd do well as major players in the conservation and research of native species of animals and plants, but definitely insects too. I bet they play a huge part in the general area's ecosystem, especially due to the fact that the Kamizuru clan attacked with a whole clan's worth of non-native Hymenoptera that could very well have become and still are an irritatingly and consistent problem as invasive species tend to be. And as a far as goods go, why not put some of them to use and handle an apiary? Honey is a great good to sell. All of this is great as a clan that no longer needs to fight. But, what about individual members in general, and so Shino?

Well Shino is the Heir of this clan. This Noble Clan. This "ready to throw hands at any moment" clan. It's future is in his hands, so to speak. So I doubt Shino would completely sever his connection to Shinobi life all together. And so, teaching at the Academy would be a great way to keep that connection. Teachers have to know their stuff, after all.

But what if in order to ensure teaching was his calling, Shino did his absolute best to make Jounin ASAP so he could take on a Genin Team. And. And by chance, it ended up being these three?? And they are absolutely STOKED!!! And they also pass Shino's genin test, which... would probably be a feat in it's own right. But they already know Shino, and Shino has bestowed upon them some wisdom they actually took to heart! Yeah, well, in reality they might be just a tad too old to be Shino's first official genin squad, but they were still his squad one point in a sense, right?

Kon Nohara, Tano Ikemoto, and Aoki Kobayashi

I even gave them names help Imagine these three are already chuunin at least and decide they want to pay Shino a visit and even volunteer to help Shino during class time on a collective day off because they admire him so much (T~T)

But even then if not these three kiddos, maybe these three li'l shits lol

Even in times of Peace, Shino's special set of skills seem too useful to waste, and being a Jounin teacher would definitely have been a way he could still go on missions, but also definitely commit to becoming a Sensei at the academy once he was 100% sure and got older. Kurenai became a Jounin/Genin Squad Leader in her late twenties, but in comparison I see Shino doing that more mid-20s. (He needs some time to travel and find his big bug friend and generally live a little?)

Kurenai was a Genjutsu Specialist who manned a Tracker/Sensing based team. This sounds like it was a highly beneficial combination, even if she ended up being somewhat sadistic lol. Asuma was bound to Team 10 by Tradition as InoShikaCho and Sarutobi have that Pact together. Kakashi's team was literally Cherry Picked for him specifically by the 3rd Hokage. And Gai, a Taijutsu Specialist, had a team that Specialized in Taijutsu and Physical Offense.

Of all four teams, Kurenai and Gai were very suited to their teams, Gai in a complimentary way and Kurenai in a Challenging way. In that same vein, I think Shino would imitate Gai. Shino as a Shinobi himself has a general set of skills, but the way he goes about them are very niche. But, he was always very stealthy, and could sneak up on nearly anyone. Gags aside, he could go unnoticed as long as he wanted too, and by the time he was noticed or was ready to attack, he has you quite literally surrounded. Honestly I can see why Search and Destroy would be an Aburame's forte, but when there's no need, a person with a personal skill of high quality stealth could probably man a team with an emphasis on Reconnaissance and/or Surveillance, even Bodyguarding. I feel like Shino would probably put an emphasis on Stealth and Tracking too, utilizing his insects as sort of assistants that keep tabs on his students (Stealth Test) as well as to encourage just enough fear during too much down time in his students to inspire quality training opportunities, so maybe Kurenai rubbed off on Shino more than they all realized haha

(Plus I'm sure his students would be be smart and thoughtful enough to eventually understand what Shino and his bugs are: a complete unit. They realize just how strong and dedicated Sensei really is to be the way he is, and they all learn more in depth about Kikaichu and it's like WOW SENSEI YOU REALLY ARE RISKING BEING EATEN ALIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY, AREN'T YOU? But he's still here, because THAT'S how strong he's become over the years and the confidence to manipulate the Kikaichu while having to think of current chakra level, the most efficient use at any given time, how many he actually needs, how long usage will last, ect. They are high maintenance, man!)

Shino would no doubt produce highly skilled Bodyguards and Masters of Stealth. Maybe the type that would end up being in high demand for the eventual Celebrities that start to pop up as times change, but still very much needed when it comes to Criminal Activity, like in Sora-Ku?

But as time passes and he decided to teach at the Academy, he'd feel very at ease to do so. He'd be happy to be put in charge of all these children, because he would be able to help teach them things they need to know to defend themselves and others in a world where adults like Danzo had and will continue to exist. Maybe while he's at it, he'd use his stance as a Noble Clan Heir and accomplished Shinobi to push for changes in government with Sai's help and with Naruto and Shikamaru's cooperation? Like, the truth does come out, everyone on the Council were actually horrible and had too much power. So HERE are some ideas and REASONS why these ideas should be implemented because Shino's not going to let his brother's life and death be in vain!? HELL no, we WILL make some changes around here. Shino sees his students and just wants a future where no kid ever has to live in fear of being completely taken advantage of by the very system that was supposed to keep them safe and they pledged allegiance to.

I cannot help but think of the quiet but absolute fear little Shino was harboring for the years to come after Torune was taken by that strange man and Father Shibi didn't even attempt to stop him. His own father didn't dare beat the shit out of this strange man who came looking for him, and the only solution for Shino to stay was for Torune to make himself look more desirable as an asset and be taken instead. I bet there was a lot of misplaced resentment there for a while, and talks that just didn't happen. Maybe a classmate doesn't show up to class one day and Shino is IMMEDIATELY stressed out and just... takes it upon himself to look for them after class. And he's relieved when he see they're simply at home with a fever. Shit like that just fucks with Shino, because theres people taking kids and no one is doing anything about it?? And then as Shino grew older he realized exactly what happened and how slimy the machine of Konoha really is and it was never completely Shibi's fault that Torune had to leave. He grows mentally at a faster rate than most of his classmates, and knows more than a kid really needs to know.

Shino doesn't want that for any other child. Shino is the kind of person who hears kids screaming outside of his house and he can't tell if they're playing or being murdered and it's stressful to the point he'll check through his window and he sees them for himself. He get stressed out seeing a kid in public unattended and WANTS to approach them to help if need be but also maybe he's overthinking it and the parents are there somewhere and he'd just end up looking suspicious. Like, that's what I kind of figure for Shino. He's so hyperaware of the power dynamic between kids and adults and seeing a kid so ready to fall victim to that makes Shino feel ill the more he thinks of what could happen. And he wonders if watching the kid in the market until they finally reunite with their parent so he could move on with the rest of his day causes him even a fraction of the the utterly disgusting flurry of nerves and fear that Shibi must have felt all those years ago. It goes along with his desire to spare every single little insect's life he can. It goes a long with the fact he only gets violent unless absolutely necessary. Like he wants to be strong but he doesn't want to go mad with power either, less he becomes the very thing that hurt him and his family in the first place.

Originally Shino wanted to become strong to be able to defend himself because at a very young age adults failed him and Torune. But then that changes to defend not only himself, but others as he grows on a team, and realizes trust is important. And then he figured if there must be adults out there that would hurt a child, it's only logical that he should become one that would only nurture and teach one to be strong as well.

Anyway, yeah. Had some feelings. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

#anime: naruto #aburame shino #shino aburame #tis i #i wish we could've seen jounin-sensei Shino #imagine he's consistently given a team of -bad kids-#but by the next chuunin they're an absolute unit in sync #people think he's the -scare them straight- sensei #in reality he's the -im not mad im just dissapointed- sensei #its super effective lol #being such a positive figure in the open as an Aburame would definately make the clan look good too #because I have a suspicion that Aburame were very often taken into ANBU and ROOT and while good for Shinobi life #its not seen as the best for public relations #anyway don't mind me im just rambling

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titan-fodder · 4 years ago

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Prima Vista Part IX

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 14.3k

Warnings: timeskip, mutual pining, author doesn’t know shit about science subject matter, explicit sexual content, ass play, snowballing, tooth rotting fluff A/N: This is it, y’all. This last part was so much fun to write, I can’t even put it into words. The feedback on this has been incredible, so a big thank you for that, and before anyone asks, I have a handful of spinoff oneshots planned for this series. Enjoy~

- NINE YEARS -

“Hey, don’t forget about the meeting at three.”

Mike glances up from his computer to find Henning leaning through his office doorway. It’s the first time Mike has looked away from the screen in at least an hour, and he blinks at his colleague several times in an attempt to get rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes.

“Yeah, thanks,” he nods, rubbing a hand down his face. “Definitely would’ve forgotten about that one.”

Henning leaves with one rap of his knuckles against the doorframe, and Mike checks his phone to see how much time he has before he has to make his way to the conference room. It’s twenty after two, so he spends a little while longer reading over the journal that had been sent to him, only tearing himself away when his alarm goes off at 2:55.

He waves at a few people as he passes, shows the reserved smile he’d mastered upon entering the corporate world, then walks into the large meeting space and sets his little notepad on the mahogany table as he sits down in a plush rolling chair.

This meeting has been planned for a few weeks now, a team of researchers contracted by the government to study Lake Sina and everything wrong with it. Its water quality is at an all time low, and it's up to Mike and his team to figure out a way to change that so it can be purified enough to distribute to the public. There are a few large cities close to the lake, all of lower income and all struggling with their water systems. If Sina can get clean enough, it would solve a huge crisis that most people don't even know is taking place.

Tomas, Henning, Lynne, and Nanaba are already in the room, and after a few minutes, another group of four walks in, all unfamiliar except…

Mike’s eyebrows knit together as he stares. He can only see a profile from where he’s sitting, but it’s one he recognizes. The time he spent admiring it, mentally sketching every feature—of course he’d recognize it. Recognize you.

There is a pounding in his chest that Mike hasn’t felt in years, and his palms are suddenly damp. The collar of his shirt is too tight around his throat, and he reaches up to undo the top two buttons so that he can fucking breathe, but Jesus Christ, he can’t believe it. It feels like a lifetime has passed since he last saw you.

He wonders if you’ll have the same reaction when you finally notice him, if you’ll gawk at him or grin or run away. He wouldn’t blame you if you tucked tail. That last conversation—if it could even be called that—is not one of Mike’s fondest memories, and he can’t imagine the toll it took on you, what you must have felt going into your final year of undergrad.

“Is there a remote for the projector?” You call out to the table, and your voice sounds exactly the fucking same. It makes Mike want to slam his head into the wood, but before he can, you zero in on him.

He watches as your eyes grow, jaw setting, shoulders rising with a deep breath, and oh, you’re panicking. You’re panicking just like he is.

“Um,” you cough and shake your head, then lean over to speak to one of your people before basically jogging from the room.

No one seems to think anything of it. Mike has to white-knuckle the arms of his chair to keep himself from getting up and following. There's no reason he should follow, though. The two of you haven’t spoken in almost a decade. He has nothing to share with you, no reason to talk to you on a non-professional level. You don’t know each other anymore, and that’s fine. It’ll be fine.

A mousy looking man starts passing out little binders to everyone at the table, then introduces himself as Moblit and the other two in the room as Hange and Abel.

"And, the other girl you saw is—"

"I'm back, I'm here," you announce as you step into the room, closing the door behind you and introducing yourself with a wave. "Did we get the projector working?"

"Yes," Abel answers, passing you the remote that Nanaba had procured a few minutes ago.

Hange plugs a cable into a laptop and the white screen is lit up with the image of the well known lake, once beautiful, deep blue but now a murky brown.

Mike has been preparing for this project for a few months now, going to an off-site lab to look over the samples being sent in or dropped off. He knew there was a research team studying the lake, but… what are the odds that you would be part of that team?

He supposes your jobs could overlap just like your classes used to, but you had told him you wanted to go into natural hazards ("You're a natural hazard," he had replied with a snort). Of course, that had been a long time ago, but how had that dream morphed into hydrology?

Before the presentation starts, Mike's boss, Keith Shadis slips through the door and takes his seat at the end of the table. You're quick to grab one of the binders and walk it over to him, flashing a smile and never letting your gaze flit to Mike.

Hange does most of the talking, going over all of your findings while all of you "braved the wilderness". Moblit and Abel insert a few things here and there, and then Hange clicks to a slide with a graph on it and hands the remote to you.

"If you turn to page seventeen in the binders, you can probably get a better look, but this shows how much the level of pollution in Lake Sina has risen in the last year alone. We took samples over…"

You keep talking, but Mike loses his focus, watching your hands move as you speak, the way you're rocking back on your heels, and how you look anywhere but at him.

Even though there's a tiny tremble in your voice, you sound passionate, and why wouldn't you be? Mike is passionate too. About the same god damn thing.

With a PhD in environmental science, his specialty is pollutants. It's something he's been interested in since grad school because the earth is beautiful but in an awful state, and Mike wants to fucking change that. He's written journals and articles, worked with leading experts, and it's what he's decided to dedicate himself to, so why is it that this life that he's built for himself is suddenly intermingling with yours? How—

A hand comes to rest on Mike's and he startles at the touch, jerking his head upward to see Lynne with raised eyebrows.

"Mike, I get why you're lost in the pollution sauce, but if you click that pen one more time, I will throw you out of this high-rise."

He stares at her for a second before chuckling and tossing his pen onto his blank notebook. He hadn't even realized he'd been doing it. It's a little embarrassing, actually. How many people noticed? Did you?

The presentation ends with Hange telling everyone that they're happy to be teaming up with the Corporation to work toward a solution and a plan to clean Lake Sina and possibly implement it into larger bodies of water.

The planning stage of the project will more than likely last for a few months, meaning you'll all be regulars in the office which Mike isn't especially thrilled about, even if you will be sequestered in a little annex and spending a lot of your time in the lab. Mike will still have to see you and work with your team, god, probably have to talk to you.

The floor opens up for any questions, but Shadis is the only one who speaks, wanting clarification on some statistic that Mike is going to have to read over later. Once the boss is happy, he stands, then walks behind Mike's chair to slap him on the back and say the last thing Mike wants to hear.

"This is Dr. Mike Zacharias. All of you should get familiar with him since he'll be heading this project."

Mike sits up a little straighter and forces a tight-lipped smile that all of his colleagues know is fake.

"Happy to be working with you."

It isn't a lie. He's been excited about this project for a long time now. He just wasn't expecting such a massive wrench to get thrown right into the middle of it.

The four of you start packing up your materials. When Henning tries to hand you his binder, you tell him, "No, those are for you to keep. Just to get a real grasp on what we found out there."

Mike knows he's staring, swiveling back and forth in his chair, twirling the pen he's picked up again, and he wonders if it would just be easier to rip the bandaid off. Exchange hellos, go over the bare minimum—how long he's been with the company, how long you've been researching. Just enough to appear casual, like you didn't break Mike's fucking heart in college.

And, then he thinks about just avoiding you altogether. There's always the chance your issues could come up in conversation, and it's so far in the past now, there's nothing either of you can say to make the other feel better. This can't be about closure. It's just a job. That's all.

"Wow, everyone really… cleared outta here."

Mike's vision unfogs, and he glances around to find that yes, you're the only two left in the conference room. Fantastic.

You're wrapping a cord around your elbow then shoving it in a laptop bag, and he can tell you're moving as fast as you can, ready to get the fuck out of there.

"Uh, yeah," Mike agrees, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his notebook to curl in his hands. "Everyone's just ready to get back to work, I guess."

"Yeah. You can only hold someone's attention with a PowerPoint for so long."

Mike's mouth is too dry, and it feels like he needs to cough, but he doesn't want to startle you, so he just quietly clears his throat in an entirely ineffective way and tells you, "Good PowerPoint, though."

You snicker, not loud enough to hear your real laugh, and Mike doesn't know if he's grateful for that or not.

"Thanks. Mobs made it."

Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you finally look up at Mike—really look at him for the first time—and he sees your expression go soft, mouth twitching like you’re caught between smiling and frowning, and Mike is taken back to the first night he met you when he wanted you to shotgun that disgusting beer.

You blink at him, open and close your mouth, and Mike is waiting with baited breath for you to say something else, but all you do is hold your hand out for him to take the projector remote from you.

"Here."

He grabs it with two fingers, careful not to brush your hand. Fuck, he wishes his heart would stop beating so hard, it's incredibly uncomfortable.

"I feel like I should say something," you murmur, "But I have no idea what, so I'm just gonna tell you I look forward to working with you, Dr. Zacharias."

He grins. Widely. He doesn't mean to, but he does. It's been so damn long since anyone has said his last name like that.

"Do you, though?" He asks.

"Do I what?"

"Look forward to working here."

"Oh, uh…" You bite your lip, start rocking on your feet again, then shrug. "I guess? I mean… Big project."

"Very big."

"It's important to me. I can't say that I was expecting—"

"Me?" Mike offers with a tilt of his head.

He's standing too close. It feels like he is, anyway, so he moves back to lean against the conference table.

"Yeah, pretty much," you laugh. "It's been a while."

Mike wonders if you remember that night as well as he does. No matter how much he's tried to forget it, that image of you with fat years rolling down your face just will not leave him. Do you remember how it felt? Can you remember everything he said to you?

Before Mike can respond, you wave a hand. "Anyway, I need to go help set up our little area, so…"

"Yeah, for sure. I'll be around."

After powering through the last hour of his day, Mike bolts from the building. He needs to get home. He needs to get a drink in his hand. He needs to unwind and not think of you.

He needs to fucking call Erwin.

"Hey, bro, what's up?"

"Dude," is all Mike says at first.

"What?"

"You will never fucking guess who's on the team we’re working with on the Sina water project."

Erwin hums in a sing-song sort of way, then chuckles. "Funny, I got a similar call about an hour ago."

"You guys still talk?" Mike asks a little too loudly.

"Yeah, man. Not every day or anything, but—"

Mike rolls his eyes. "You're unbelievable." He isn't mad, and Erwin knows this. He's just a little surprised. His friend hasn’t as much as uttered your name in the last ten years.

"Yeah, whatever. How'd it go from your perspective?"

"It—Wait, what did she say?"

"Oh, no no no," Erwin laughs. Mike here's a distant, "Hold that, please!" and figures he's making his way to the elevator to leave work as well. "I am not getting caught up in your bullshit again."

Pouting, Mike finally turns on his car and pulls out of the parking lot. "Fine. It went… Well? I think? I mean, super awkward, but that isn't surprising."

"No name-calling or confessions of undying love?"

"No, I'm not twenty-two anymore."

"Could have fooled me," Erwin snorts.

"Fuck off. It was a good presentation, but she was nervous, and I couldn't tell if it was from having to speak in front of people or if it was 'cause I was there, and then we talked afterward—nothing important or anything, just, like, an acknowledgement. You know, you're here, I'm here, we have to find a way to co-exist, except neither of us actually said that," Mike has to take a deep breath. He's rambling, he knows, and Erwin is just listening, probably storing it all away to make fun of him about it later. "It was okay. It could've been worse."

"Could have been better too."

"What? How—"

"Could have bent her over the desk and—"

"Dude!"

Erwin breaks into that deep laugh Mike is so used to, tells him, "I'm just saying! I know she's still cute. We have each other on Facebook."

He's right. Too right. You are absolutely still cute, all dressed up in business casual attire, so different from the leggings and hoodies you used to wear. Your face has matured slightly—naturally—and your hair is different but still suits you. Mike has no idea how he's supposed to work with you for the next few months.

"I can't deal with you," Mike grumbles. "Why did I even call you?"

"Probably because I'm the only one who has an inkling about what you're going through right now," Erwin replies. "Aside from her anyway."

"Yeah, yeah."

They chat for a little while longer until Erwin gets to the bar he's apparently meeting some coworkers at, and Mike spends the rest of his drive listening to music too loud as he tries and fails to clear his mind of you.

You're pacing. You have been for the last hour. The food you made for yourself went cold some time ago, but you're too busy whining into your phone to notice.

"Just—like—what the fuck am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to work with him like this? He's overseeing the whole fucking project! I can't just avoid him!"

"Okay, first thing's first," Hitch stops you. "I need you to take a deep breath for me."

"Hitch—"

"Breathe!"

You inhale through your nose then blow out through your mouth, but that's obviously not good enough for Hitch because she demands, "And, again."

"What are you, my therapist?"

"I mean, I usually act like one, so… anyway, while you're calming the fuck down, I'm gonna call for backup. Hold please."

Dropping yourself onto the hotel couch, you try to relax even though you know it'll be impossible because—

"You're working with Mike?" Rhi's shrill voice meets your ear, and you have to pull the phone away.

"Rhi, you're supposed to help me calm her down, not add to her panic," Hitch reminds her.

"Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen," Rhi tells her, and you laugh to yourself.

"Agreed."

"Okay, so tell me what happened. Oh my god, did you cry? Did he cry? What'd Erwin say when you told him? You told him, right?"

You've gotten used to Rhi's rapid fire inquiries a long time ago, so you have no problem answering, "We walked in for the big Sina presentation today, and he was just there, and I was freaking out, so Hange had to do most of the work but still made me go over my findings 'cause I understand them better than they do, but anyway. I don't think he was paying attention at fucking all which is cool 'cause I wouldn't have been either, and then we talked for a second afterward, but there were no tears. There was almost vomit 'cause I felt like I needed to throw up, but I kept it together. I think."

"Okay, and Erwin? What'd he say?"

You snicker to yourself. "He made fun of me for a little while and then he told me to talk to Mike once I calmed down just to catch up and then to—this is verbatim, by the way—to possibly have dirty sex in Mike's office."

Both of your friends howl, Hitch being the first to gather herself enough to giggle, "He fucking would say that, oh my god, I hate him."

"Same," Rhi drawls. "Okay, but is there the possibility of dirty office sex?"

"Wha—That's what you're taking away from all that?" You splutter.

"Uh, yeah."

"I'm kinda curious too," Hitch pipes up.

You wave your free hand around in confusion and tell them, "I—we—no! We don't even know each other anymore. We said, like, four words to each other today, and it was fucking weird, so no. Pervs."

"Do you want to, though? Has he aged well?" Hitch asks in a low, sultry voice.

You click your tongue and pause, not wanting the first thought that pops into your head to be what comes out of your mouth because yes, holy shit, yes, Mike looks so fucking good. It was one of many reasons you were so tongue-tied in front of him.

He's still impossibly tall and broad, but in slacks and a button up. The beard he’s always had is short and rugged and a tad darker than the hair on top of his head that he's let grow out long enough to tie in a bun, and it fits him too well. You thought you were gonna start drooling on his fancy shoes.

"He's alright," you play. They see right through you, falling into another long fit of laughter until you admit, "Okay, okay, he's still stupid hot, alright?"

"God bless. I'm so happy to hear that. I'm so happy for you."

"Why would you—"

"Just promise you'll invite us to the wedding."

"I think you guys are getting a little ahead of yourselves."

"Oh my god, we have to call Marie."

"And, Maddie."

You shake your head as the other two start going back and forth, talking about you like you're not even there, bringing up college memories, old parties you'd all gone to.

"Hey, remember when you hated me?" Rhi questions, and both of you snort.

"And, you hated me right back. Stole your man or whatever."

Hitch mutters a quiet, "Ew, fuck that guy."

And, Rhi picks up, "Yeah, fuck that all-American, record-breaking pitcher."

The three of you talk well into the evening, eventually switching to Zoom so that you can all see each other and add Maddie and Marie into the call. You and Hitch break open bottles of wine, but Rhi and Maddie don't drink, "Solidarity with this pregnant bitch," Maddie says, and Marie lifts her glass of water to cheers via internet.

Sophomore and junior year of college, you never would have expected to get close to anyone other than Hitch, but through a few shared classes and petty curiosity, all of you ended up seeking solace in one another and came out on the other side as best friends. Hitch was even Maid of Honor in Marie and Nile's wedding. Against all odds, everything turned out pretty wholesome.

"I genuinely hope it works out," Hitch says now, words long, lazy, and starting to slur together "Like, even if it's just you and Mike making up and being, like, cool with each other again."

"Hitch, you're drunk, please go to bed."

"I am drunk. But, I still mean what I said. I miss when you guys were just best friends."

"Why?" You question with a head shake.

Hitch sighs, "'Cause you were so happy."

"No, I—"

"I mean, you were still all… weird and guarded, but that dude made you laugh and smile so much."

"I daresay I even saw you giddy on a couple of occasions," Marie hums.

"Whatever. I just want it to be… not awkward."

"Then, talk."

"Mm, pass."

A light knock on the wall of the impressively large cubicle gets your whole team's attention, all of you glancing up to find Mike standing in the little entryway, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, just checkin' in. Have you all gotten settled?"

"Yes!" Hange is up on their feet. "Great accommodations, and that lab you guys use?" They moan, and you can tell Mike is trying not to laugh because his mouth is twisting to one side like it always does when he tries to appear unaffected by something. However, you know well that it is very hard to remain unaffected by Hange Zoe.

"Yeah, we haven't had a lab that shiny in a long time," Moblit chuckles.

"Don't you work in government buildings?" Mike frowns.

"You ever seen the inside of a post office?" You question, immediately regretting it when those light green eyes land on you.

"Uh, yeah?"

Smirking through the butterflies, you tell him, "Those are government buildings too."

"Don't mind her. She's just being a smartass," Abel says.

Mike is really fighting that smile now. Even pinched to one side, you can see the way his lips are trying to curve upward, and you have to bite yours and look at the floor before you start acting like a god damn school girl.

It's nearing the end of the first week at your new location. It hasn't been terrible, and some of the strangeness is beginning to wear off, but it's still jarring to see Mike walk around or hear his voice carrying through his office door.

Neither of you have gone out of your way to talk to one another. Anything project related, Hange handles for the most part, and if anything is delegated to you, you try to pass it off to Abel because you're just not ready to be alone in a room with Mike. Your brain and your heart can't take it yet.

You can't deny that you're curious, though. You wonder what his life is like now, what his job is like outside of what you've seen (which, admittedly, is not much), what he does in his free time now, who he spends his time with. You couldn't help but notice (you made a point of looking) that there isn't any type of ring on his finger which is pretty fucking surprising since, well, Mike has always been a catch. How has someone not come around and swiped him off the market? Or, does he just not wear a wedding band at work? Or, does he just have a girlfriend and is waiting to take the next step? So many questions you have no business asking.

Mike hums, rubs at something probably nonexistent on the carpet with the toe of his shoe, and mumbles a little, "Nothin’ I haven't dealt with before," that makes everyone look at him curiously. "With co-workers, you know. Lotta sass in the office."

You stifle a laugh and stand up. There are a lot of sassy things you could say, but you figure none of them are actually appropriate, especially since Mike is technically your boss now—why is that so hot?—so you just slip out of the cubicle, doing your best to not brush up against Mike. He apparently doesn't care, though, because while he moves to the side, he does the thing that all men do, placing a hand on the small of your back as if to guide you past him, and it makes you burn.

"'scuse me," you squeak, relieved to be able to run to the restroom where you can sit in a stall and scream to Hitch through texts.

You are dying—mostly because you don't know what you want. Do you want to be friends? Do you want to seduce him? Do you want another nine years away from him? You have no idea.

You were sad for a long time after that holiday break. You trudged through your spring courses, took more classes in the Summer, then started all over. Hitch had to physically drag you out of your tiny apartment a few times but never to any parties, thank god. Just to lunch or the library, and eventually, Rhi, Marie, and Maddie came into the picture. Further into the picture, anyway.

While they got you laughing again, though, that ache didn't ever fade. Mike's words replayed in your head in a constant loop, day and night for months. I can’t do this anymore. Start fresh. Shouldn’t be hard for you. You were mad at yourself for a long time, for ruining everything and hurting him. If you could have gone back to the start of it all and done things differently, you would have, but you just had to sit with all your mistakes instead.

Then, your anger shifted toward him. Because you weren't the only one who messed up. You may have been the first one to, but he did some shitty things too. He's the one who didn't care even after finding out it was Zeke who blocked his number. He's the one who refused to believe that you and Erwin weren't actually a couple. He's the one who brought Rhi to the ranch house with the specific intention of hurting your feelings (and to wet his dick).

And, he's the one who didn't want to work things out.

You understand his frustration. You broke his heart, after all. But then, he turned around and broke yours too.

It was nine years ago, and you've moved on. You've dated people since then. You've fallen in and out of love. Mike wasn't even on your radar until Monday, but now… Now, there's no forgetting him. Old wounds get jabbed every time he peeks around the corner, any time you hear him laugh or see him smile, and when he actually looks at you, fuck, it's like someone is ripping stitches out of your skin.

It is not a productive work environment.

Your team hasn't noticed much other than Moblit asking what has you so tense these days, but no one has made any connections, and you'd like to keep it that way. Hange would have a fucking field day if they found out.

There are many meetings to toss around ideas, plans and blueprints that get scrapped. You stumble through presentations, trying not to look directly at anyone as your cheeks heat up and your hands shake.

"You've never been nervous about stuff like this," Abel tells you in the conference room one day as everyone else files out. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," you shake your head. "Don't worry about it."

"Nothing my ass," he grumbles, walking out without you.

"You really should try to relax," Mike tells you from where he's still sitting at the table. "No idea why you're so nervous."

Everyone else is gone which means you're free to squint at him, scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you see that he's smirking at you, the words dry up.

"Don't play dumb, Zacharias."

"I'm not playing anything," he tells you. "But, I do need to know how long we're gonna keep up this I don't know you-you don't know me thing."

"You literally just said—..." Taking a deep breath, you look over your shoulder to, one, form a coherent sentence in your brain, and two, make sure no one is close enough to hear it when you say, "What would you prefer we do? Not like we can just pick up where we left off. Unless, you know, you wanna go back to being incredibly fucking pissed at me for months on end."

"Man, you really are tense about this," Mike chuckles, and you're torn between slapping him and jumping his bones, so you do neither. Fuck, why'd he have to wear the purple tie today? It looks so good with his complexion and complements his eyes. A few strands of hair have come loose from the bun at the back of his head, and he shakes them out of his face like he used to shake his shaggy bangs, and all you can do is stare and squirm and tell him, "I have to go."

"Go where?" He asks, standing from his chair. It feels like he towers over you even from across the table.

You hold your hands out and gesticulate a little frantically, "I don't know—work? Maybe?"

He's extremely amused, even laughs as you make your way out the door, then calls, "Whenever you're ready to talk, just let me know! You know where my office is."

"I don't wanna talk!"

You really don't. But, you also really do.

Mike starts having fun with his new department (you specifically) around the third week.

He's never seen you like this before, having to mentally prepare yourself before you walk into any room, like you have to be ready for him. You nibble on your lip and rock on your heels. Your hands shake in meetings when you have to point to pictures or graphs.

It’s just so unlike you. He got so used to the surly, uncaring girl in college, never happy to see Mike until you gave him a fair chance (and decided you enjoyed his cock). He expects everything to come out of your mouth to be sarcastic or suggestive, and when it's not, it takes him off guard.

Mike is nervous around you too. He can easily admit that. But, his neverending panic really just manifests in the form of nausea and heart palpitations which he thinks is better than trembling and stuttering, but it's still mildly distracting.

Every once in a while, he catches a glimpse of that old side of you, though, a mumbled smartass remark or an unimpressed expression, and he has to make a conscious effort to not grin like an idiot because he's still trying to decipher his actual feelings.

Is he supposed to act like nothing ever happened, or should he hold a grudge? What seems more natural? What feels more natural?

Mike knows the answer to that last question, but he hasn't fully accepted it.

"It's kinda cute, actually. Like, I walk into the room and she gets this little doe-eyed expression. Looks like she's about to run away."

"You're kind of a sadist, you know that?" Erwin says.

"I mean, is it so wrong to get a little satisfaction outta this?"

"I think so, yeah. You're driving her crazy, dude."

Mike smacks his lips and rolls his eyes. "Man, how would you know—"

"'Cause she told me!" Erwin basically shouts like it's obvious. "The words came out of her mouth. Mike is driving me crazy. Just like that."

Pouting, Mike takes another sip of his beer and lets his eyes travel to the bottom of the TV screen to check the score of the game he isn't watching.

"Well, it's not like I can really do anything about it. She'll only be here for a few months."

"Do you happen to know how long it takes for a stomach ulcer to form?" Erwin asks.

Mike frowns. "Uh, no?"

"Well, neither do I, but I'm pretty sure it's not very long."

Both of them laugh. Mike mutters something about Erwin being fucking stupid, and then Erwin sighs and speaks, "I am begging you, dude. Please just get a fucking drink with her or something."

"We don't mix well with alcohol," Mike snarks.

"What's the worst that could happen—you end up in bed again?"

"Well—"

"Honestly, both of you could probably benefit from a good fuck, but what do I know? I'm just the guy both of you call for this shit."

"Alright, I get it. I'll… see if she's up for something," Mike mumbles.

"I mean, I wouldn't open with sex, maybe start off with lunch or…"

"I'm hanging up now."

Mike doesn't actually know how to ask you, though. You're so fucking skittish around him, and you're obviously worried about people finding out you have a history, so he's gonna have to be strategic about it, maybe plant the seed a few days before or—

"Hey, listen…" You appear in Mike's office doorway, long cardigan falling to your knees and swishing behind you even after you've stopped moving. "I know it's almost five, but I'm, like, right in the middle of mapping out a new plan, and I don't wanna lose steam, so is it cool if I stay late?"

"Yeah, I don't care," Mike answers, tacking on, "S'long as you're okay with being here late with me."

"Oh, th-that's—" you splutter for a little while, and Mike raises his eyebrows. "That's n-not necessary. You don't have to, like, supervise me or anything."

"I'm not supervising you," Mike snorts. "I'm trying to finish my piece for a journal."

"Ah, right, that's�� yes." You shoot off a half-hearted finger gun, and Mike wants to hop his desk to get to you. There you are. There are your dumb fucking mannerisms, please, just act like yourself, for the love of god.

"Okay, well if you need me, uh, I will probably be on the floor in the annex, so…"

"We do have chairs, ya' know," Mike smirks.

"Yeah, but it's easier to just spread everything out so I can see it."

"Want a corkboard? You can make it look like you're doing a murder investigation."

"Hmm, might make it look more official," you muse, making a face of contemplation.

Before you can actually say yes, Mike pipes up again. "I don't actually have a corkboard. It was a joke."

"Yeah, I know," you snicker. "Wouldn't be big enough anyway."

Too many responses flood Mike's brain at once, causing him to bite his tongue because every last one of them is gross, but you must be able to read it on his face because you point and tell him, "Stop."

"I didn't say anything!" He laughs.

"You don't have to. I know."

Mike rolls his eyes, "Okay," and looks back to his computer, hoping the screen is high enough to hide his grin as you turn and walk away.

The next hour is spent editing the same paragraph over and over with no real motivation because everyone has vacated the floor except for you and Mike, and this could be a good time to talk to you, but he also doesn't want to disrupt your work. Just because he can't focus doesn't mean you can't. You'd only get upset if he distracted you from your work anyway—it's happened before—redirecting your attention from a textbook or study guide to… other things.

He goes down a rabbit hole, reminiscing on those occasions, then tweaking them just a little to fit into the current setting, and it's the absolute last thing Mike should be thinking about, but it's Friday, and you're slightly more casual in your flowy cardigan and tight jeans, and all he wants is to get one teeny tiny look at your ass in them because he knows your it’s perfect. He's seen it in leggings and cheeky little boy shorts and lacy thongs, and there is absolutely no way he can go out to talk to you now.

Also, he really needs to write at least one paragraph before leaving tonight. It's all about water and waste and pollutants which is the shit Mike knows like the back of his hand. He'd just rather have said hands on something else.

"Yeah, this isn't gonna happen," he mutters to himself, taking his hair down to scratch at his scalp. He's better off just going home.

Mike packs a few things up before stepping out of his office, closing and locking the door behind him. Half the lights are off, but the portion over the annex is shining brightly. Mike stares in that direction as he debates telling you he's leaving or bolting without saying anything.

It's the thought of you walking out to your car alone that makes his mind up, and Mike saunters to the annex and finds you on hands knees surrounded by several sketches, crumpled notes, and the set of blueprints that Mike is pretty sure got thrown in the recycling on Tuesday.

"Where'd you even find those?"

You don't look up when you answer, "Recycling comes every Monday."

"So, you went… dumpster diving?"

Lifting your head, you squint up at Mike, tracking him as he squats on the other side of your organized chaos.

"Is it dumpster diving if it's all paper?"

Mike shrugs. "Dunno. How's it comin'?"

"I'm comi—It!" You correct a little too loudly. "It's coming! It's coming along just fine."

"Yeah?" Mike chuckles. "Cute Freudian slip there."

"It was not—" You grit your teeth, fingers curling on the papers they're resting on, then question, "Did you need something?"

"Just came by to say I was leaving," Mike tells you. Something catches his eye, though, some of your notes scribbled just big enough for him to read a few of the words from where he is, and he grabs the sheet to look it over more carefully.

Irrigation plans, specialized pumps, introducing new life into the lake, specifically filter fish…

"I was just vomiting ideas out on paper, it's nothing important."

Mike hums and reads further. Some of it is familiar because Mike has considered some of these himself, but while your engineering thoughts are a little vague, the ideas that lean more toward the biological side of things are pretty interesting, even if they're just sloppy bullet points and arrows.

"You wanna vomit on a person instead?" He asks, chuckling at the look you give him.

"Ew."

"Just spitball. Throw it at me."

"Oh, I'm gonna throw somethin' at you all right."

Mike slips his bag from his shoulder and sets it down before sitting on the ground, picking up the papers closest to him.

"Tell me about the xylem tissue method," he prompts.

You don't speak right away, just chew on your lip while staring at the sketches on the ground, but then you nod and sit back on your heels.

"So, we know that white pine trees are a natural means of filtering, but there aren't any around here. I know it's more of a long-term plan, but we can't just go with a temporary fix, so I was thinking—"

Mike listens. To everything. Everything you can think of. He watches too. You rub your hands over your jeans and flick hair from your eyes. You change positions, sitting on one foot while resting your chin on your knee as you think out loud, then move to sit cross-legged only to get up to pace the length of the cubicle, barefoot since your heels were kicked off long ago.

He asks questions or makes suggestions here and there, and soon it isn't just you who's brainstorming.

It's easy. It's what Mike knows, and it's obviously what you know too, and a couple of hours pass before either of you realize it.

"Shit, it's almost ten," you state, looking at your phone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here so late."

"It's fine. Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't want to."

Mike stretches as he stands, twisting to crack his back and rolling his neck. You gather up all the papers, straightening them into a neat pile then putting them in a drawer at the bottom of your desk.

You walk out together, still chatting in the elevator and out to the parking lot, and Mike feels good. He feels like… He feels like he did in college.

"Please tell me that is not your car," you say, eyeing the boxy, white Mercedes that is, in fact, Mike's.

"What of it?"

"These fucking Jeeps are so ugly, I cannot believe—"

"Uh, it's not a Jeep. It's a g-wagon, thank you."

You roll your eyes. "I liked your Wrangler better."

"I bet you fuckin' did," he mumbles, too lost in the memory of you riding him in said Wrangler to think about how you might take the comment.

"It was easier on the eyes," you explain.

"It was a frat boy car."

"You were a frat boy!"

"And, now I'm a professional."

"Are you, though?" You tease, expression skeptical save for your tiny smirk.

"Most of the time."

The only other vehicle in the lot is a Land Rover, considerably larger than the little hatchback you used to drive but very fitting for someone in your line of work. Mike thinks about mentioning that it's basically the same as his Mercedes, just not as expensive and with rounder edges, but he knows you'll just get indignant and defensive.

He walks you over to your car, and you don't question it, just open the passenger side and throw your bag inside.

This is your chance, Mike realizes. Just ask. Ask her to go somewhere else and talk about something other than work.

"Hey, uh, do you wanna grab a drink or something?" He tries, heartbeat picking up once again. His eyes are a little too wide as you regard him carefully, studying him like one of your samples.

Then, you shake your head.

"No, Mike. I don't wanna grab a drink." His stomach opens up, the heat that comes with embarrassment creeping up his neck.

"Oh, sorry, I just—"

"But, there's a breakfast place close to the extended stay they put us up in. I've been wanting to check it out."

And, like that, his hope is restored. Hope for what, Mike doesn't know, but it's certainly there, blooming in his chest like unkempt wildflowers.

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah. I'm still not really a morning person, but d'you wanna meet there at, like, ten or so?"

"Tomorrow?"

"I mean, if that works for you."

"Yeah!" Mike clears his throat, lowers his voice so that he sounds a little less excited. "I'm usually up and moving by eight."

"God, why do you hate yourself?" You cringe.

"I've always been an early riser."

"Not from what I remember."

Mike leans against your rover, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, maybe not when I was kept up into the early morning hours, but usually I was up before everyone else."

You post up across from him, one hand on your hip, and Mike realizes this is gonna go on for some time.

"Kept up? Like you didn't wanna be?"

He's fine with that. He'll stand out here talking with you until the sun comes up if you'll let him. And, maybe after that too.

Breakfast is good. Breakfast is safe. Breakfast is the start of the day and free of alcohol. There is nothing suggestive about breakfast.

Except breakfast has become a habit. For the last three Saturdays you’ve sat at the little cafe next to your hotel talking with Mike for at least an hour. You’re kind of getting to know him again, but most of the conversation consists of stupid jokes or blatant deflections.

His parents are still doing well, both in their sixties now, but Scout, unfortunately passed away a few years ago. Hearing it makes your eyes burn, and watching Mike’s face fall actually makes you wipe at your own rapidly forming tears.

He still keeps in touch with several of his frat brothers—Erwin (obviously), Nile, Gelgar, and some of the younger kids, Jean, Marco, and Connie.

“Yeah, I’m actually pretty close to Marie now,” you tell him. “And, Maddie, and Rhi.”

“Rhi?” He looks incredibly surprised.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Bonded over the woes of college boys.”

“Didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I, honestly.”

Working with him is easier now. The ice has been broken. The boundaries have been set even if they are unspoken. You still do your best not to touch him at all, never stand too close or brush against him in any way, but you’ve loosened up a lot, and your team seems to appreciate it. Unfortunately, they also start to notice the way you light up a little too much whenever you’re around Mike, and naturally, Hange just had to comment on it a few days ago.

“You have a crush on the bossman or somethin’?”

“What? No. We just work well together, I guess.”

You do not tell Mike about this exchange, in fear of him prying. Well, do you have a crush on the bossman? You’re not ready for that, probably never will be.

There are a few breakthroughs in the Sina project. The research team gets extra funding to run more trials, and you start to stay late more often, sometimes in the tower with everyone else and sometimes in the lab. Things are progressing nicely.

Eventually, breakfast turns to lunch, lunch turns to dinner, and then you find yourself in Mike’s apartment, sitting at his kitchen table while he cooks.

“So, we talk every once in a while now, but it’s usually really awkward. Like, I still don’t ever know what to say to him.”

“Do you find it weird that he reached out in the first place?”

“Kind of? When I was younger, I always hoped he would, but now that he has, I almost wish he hadn’t. Does that make sense?”

Mike shrugs as he pours noodles into a strainer over the sink. “I mean, he’s your dad, so yeah, it makes sense. What he did was super shitty, but I figure it’s hard to forget the good times and just abandon all hope.”

“Yeah. On the bright side, he sends my brother money for commissary, like, every week, so that’s nice.”

It took a little while, but you’ve let yourself open up to Mike much easier this time around. Whether it’s because you already know you can trust him or because you’ve gotten the closure you needed for so long, you’re not sure. You just know it’s been easy.

Unfortunately, with vulnerability comes feelings, and you are having a lot of those. Too many. You’re glad that it’s not debilitating dread and nervousness now, but the overwhelming affection isn’t any less distracting.

Watching Mike move around his kitchen, though—clad in a t-shirt, faded jeans, and the dish towel thrown over his shoulder, you are painfully reminded of why you got so attached all those years ago.

It isn’t fair. You really didn’t want to fall back into this hole. You knew it was a possibility as soon as you saw him at that first meeting, but you were trying to put it off until you had to leave.

Because that’s the plan. You come in. You complete the project, get them started on a long-term plan for the lake, then head back to your home facility and wait for another job to be assigned. You can’t just stay here, even if the idea gets a little more tempting every day.

You’re just friends, though, just spending time together because it’s familiar. It’s nice being back on the same page, just letting the past stay there.

“So, it’s been about two months,” Mike starts, and something about his tone makes your stomach drop. “I feel like that’s an appropriate amount of time to wait before finally addressing the elephant in the room.”

So much for letting the past stay there.

Groaning, you rub your hands down your face. “Do we really have to?” Of course he would want to talk about it now that you’re comfortable.

“I really think we do.”

“Mike, that was so long ago. I was a dumb fucking kid. What do you need to know other than that?”

He braces himself on his counter, face serious. “Nothin’ really. I just want you to know that I was a dumb kid too.”

“Yeah, and we’ve grown since then and gotten over it, right?”

He lets out a long sigh. “I had gotten over it, but working with you every day has kinda... brought some things back to the surface.”

Staring at him, you swallow and try to stay calm. You know where he’s coming from, and it’s a little comforting to know that he’s been experiencing at least some of the emotions that you have been, but you don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing.

“I get it. I’ve been struggling too, but there’s nothing we can really do about it.”

You’ve thought about just taking the plunge and sleeping with him again. It would be nice—really fucking nice—but it would only make things worse.

“I guess. It’s been cool to hang out again, but…” Mike chews on his lip for a moment before finishing, “We’ve never been good at just hanging out.”

The reminder makes your skin prickle with heat, and you shift in your chair, reeling in your thoughts before they run wild.

“Yeah. If it would be easier to just not hang out, I’d understand.”

He turns back to the stove to stir something and turn on the vent then twists back around. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then, what are you saying?”

Mike makes a little disgruntled noise, hanging his head like he’s getting frustrated. “I’m saying some days are hard. I tried to keep some distance, but that lasted for about a week, and now you’re here, and even though you’ve changed some, you’re still you, and I’m still me, and… Some days are just hard.”

Some minutes are hard, you think to yourself. You can be going about your day like someone who isn’t completely fucking smitten, and then you see Mike, and he nods or grins and suddenly all you want is to be alone with him and trace over his lips with yours, feel his hands on you, run your fingers through his long hair.

“If I could take those feelings away from you, I would,” you tell him, and it’s apparently the wrong thing to say because he frowns.

“Do you not feel the same way then?”

Your reply is almost instantaneous. “Christ, Mike, of course I feel the same! I was in love with you! I didn’t know how to show it back then, but that’s what it was, so yeah, I feel it too, but there’s no point in—in analyzing it or turning it into something—”

“You were in love?”

“Dude. Yes. It took me a while to realize it—like, way too long—but yeah. Definitely love. Junior and senior year wouldn’t have sucked so much if it was just lust or infatuation or something.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you wave him off. “I fucked up. You had every right to be pissed.”

“I could’ve handled it better,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “Dumb kids, remember?”

Mike looks genuinely upset, and you don’t know what to say anymore, so you get up from the kitchen table and walk over to him. You have to physically urge him to turn and face you, but once he does, you wrap your arms around his torso and sigh. He immediately locks his wrists behind your back, resting his chin on your head, and it feels familiar and right and a little bit like home. You can smell the fabric softener that clings to his shirt and the fresh scent of his deodorant, different from what he used to wear, but that doesn’t make it bad.

“Can we wait for a while longer before we decide to act like dumb kids again?” You ask.

Mike chuckles above you. “You say that like you’re positive we will.”

You’re just being realistic, and you tell him as much. The chances of you leaving the city without having sex at least once are slim to none. You figure the two of you will break and indulge in one of those ‘just for old time’s sake’ fucks, but if Mike keeps talking to you like this, admitting feelings and what not, you’re gonna lose it much faster than you’d originally planned.

“Yeah.” You feel him nod. “Yeah, we can wait.”

When he kisses the top of your head, you almost give up then and there.

This fucking sucks. Everything sucks. Mike was never one of those people who looked back on college as his glory days, never really had the desire to go back to it, but now he feels like he’s reliving them because he’s back to being twenty-one and obsessed with a girl—being obsessed with you.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t know that you felt it too, but you admitted it, so now the only thing that’s stopping the two of you from exploring that avenue is, what, fear? Again?

He gets it. He does. You don’t want to fall into something serious only to leave, but it’s possible to navigate relationships like that. Long distance-works. There’s technology for that like phones and video chats and sex toys. Then, there’s always the option of just relocating. It would be drastic, but Mike isn’t against the idea. Arrangements would have to be made, but he could swing it. It’s a little crazy so early on, but...

He’s not gonna push it, not in a blatant way, but he’s gonna try his damndest to make it harder for you to go. He grows bold enough to start touching you more. A hand on the small of your back as you leave a room together, an arm around your shoulders when you watch TV over dinner, tucking hair behind your ear (“God, that used to be Erwin’s, like, go-to move.”). It’s fucked up because he knows your colleagues are asking about it, that he’s subjecting you to their interrogations, but he can’t help himself. He can’t stop.

It definitely has an effect on you. You get flustered every time, can’t look at Mike for a while, and he hopes it’s because you’re thinking about other ways he could touch you—has touched you—f you’d just give him the chance.

He thinks he has the patience to keep it up, wind you up more and more every day until you spin out of control and into his bed. You’re still spending time with him outside of work, still sharing pieces of yourself, and you’re not stopping him from putting his hands on you. so it’s only a matter of time.

It comes to a head in his apartment after dinner. It’s so simple, something Mike didn’t even do on purpose, but as you’re washing your hands, he comes up behind you and reaches past you for a paper towel. He puts a hand on your hip without thinking, and his chest presses against your back, and then you’re exhaling in one quick huff and squirming to turn around.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Mike asks, confused as he takes a step back.

“Okay, I’m ready to act like a dumb kid.”

You don’t even dry your hands, just curl your fingers into his shirt and gaze up at him with dilated pupils, and Mike is elated.

“Oh, thank god, fuck, thank god.”

He leans down, and you stand on your tiptoes, and when you meet in the middle and he feels your lips on his for the first time in almost a decade, he groans.

You pull him closer, tilt your head further back to give him better access, and Mike cradles it in his hands. He tries not to breathe too heavily, pant like a fucking dog, but he’s been waiting for this since he saw you again. Maybe before that. He thinks on some level he’s been waiting for this since he left you alone in the ranch house, a little voice nagging at him to go back, to fix things, and he just never did.

“This is stupid, this is so stupid,” you murmur against him. “Only gonna make things harder.”

“Just stop thinking about it,” Mike replies, nipping at your bottom lip. He doesn’t want you to think about it because he doesn’t want to think about it otherwise he’ll blurt out everything he’s been stewing on for the last couple weeks, the possibility of a real relationship, of you staying or him going, and that's too much.

You both shed clothes on your way to the bedroom, a trail of shirts and pants until you’re naked and laid out for him, and Mike swears he just might cry because you’re so beautiful, just as he remembered with a little more meat on your hips and thighs, a new scar on your calf that he asks about before brushing his lips over it. That leg is already resting on his shoulder, and once he gets situated on his stomach, he throws the other one over himself.

His mouth starts to water as he gazes at your pussy, so fucking pretty, hole fluttering when he spreads you open. You can’t answer his question about the injury as he lowers his face, pressing the flat of his tongue to the sensitive skin then dipping it inside of you.

“Oh, fuck.”

You taste and smell and feel perfect, and the only thought in his mind is to devour you. He won’t stop until you’re crying, drool leaking from your mouth and your cunt. And, he knows exactly how to get you to that point.

Mike flicks over your clit until it grows firm against his tongue then sucks it into his mouth. The noise you make goes straight to his cock, and he starts to rut into the mattress to get some kind of friction. He can already feel precum dripping from his tip, knows you won’t be the only one getting messy tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s never cared.

Mike only pulls away when your thighs start to tremble around his head, and it’s only to mark them with bruises. It reminds him of the last time, when you’d let him fuck you in a fit of desperation. It had been his undoing. He thought of that night for years, and now that he’s able to do it all again, he can’t help but confess, “Fuck, I’ve missed your pussy,” just before he spits on it.

Your chest is rising with every little whimper you release as your nails dig into your palms. He’s never been happier to have long arms, able to reach up and massage your tits, stretching his fingers out to span across your chest, thumb on one nipple, pinky on the other, and as he teases both of them, he moans at the fresh slick that coats his tongue.

“A finger,” you pant, “Give me a finger, fuck, at least one, please please please—”

You’ve always been so cute when you babble. Mike can never say no when you talk to him like that, but after assessing and deeming you fit, he slides two fingers into you at once, still sucking your clit.

You swear loudly, almost in surprise, but that doesn’t stop you from moving your hips, fucking yourself on every digit as your jaw drops open.

Mike wants to see your face—has to see it, so he licks up your body, stopping to tongue over your nipples as he goes. He never falters in his thrusting, still knows the exact angle he has to crook his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your back arches, and you plant your feet flat on the mattress to give yourself more leverage, more control. Mike smirks down at you, enjoying your euphoric expression as he grinds his palm against the bundle of nerves that is the key to making you fall apart.

“Oh my god—oh, god—fuck, Miche.”

His breath catches in his throat. God, he hasn’t heard that in too long. He never told you, not that he ever had to, but hearing you call him that drove him crazy, made him fall further in love and lust at the same time, and hearing it now has the same effect.

“Please,” you whine, then repeat it, spreading your legs to coax him deeper. “Fuck, I need you so bad, s-so bad.”

He’s in the perfect position to rub his cock over your stomach, smearing pre everywhere it touches. From the beginning, Mike has loved leaving traces of himself on you, always felt like he could almost smell it on your skin, like a sigil to ward off others.

He places a soft kiss at the corner of one closed eye, then on the other, and when you open them to look at him, he sees that they’re filled with tears.

It makes him pause, but you keep riding his fingers and beg, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, m’fine, just—”

“Why're you crying then?" he grins, leaning down to lick your bottom lip. "Feel good?"

You nod, raising to your elbows to force your mouth against his, sliding your tongue inside then whining when Mike pulls away, but it's only to gather the spit in his mouth. When he kisses you again, he makes sure you take it all, pushing saliva past his teeth and onto your palette, and when you swallow, Mike makes a noise of satisfaction.

"That's my fuckin' girl."

That wide, fuck-drunk smile he loves so much spreads across your face as you accept the praise you never would have when you were younger.

Mike noses just under your ear then asks, "You ready for my cock?"

"Always,” you breathe. “Always ready for it."

"Yeah?" You nod, face scrunching up, and Mike thinks there's a chance that you're—"Gonna come for me first?"

Your muscles are starting to tense, hips stuttering, and he can actually feel your pussy spasming around his fingers.

"Come on, baby, you can do it. Just—'

Your eyes roll back as your body pulses. Mike's hand is coated with slick that he can't wait to lick off, and he fucks you with his fingers until you go limp.

He cleans his hand then slithers back between your legs to catch everything that's leaking from you. You release a pitiful moan when he traces a circle around your entrance then squeal when he rubs his beard over it.

"Jesus fuck!"

"Sensitive?" He teases before crawling back up to kiss you.

Holding himself up with one arm, Mike takes hold of his cock, painfully hard at this point, and parts your wet folds with his tip. He slides it up and down, teasing both you and himself and gasping every time it just barely dips inside of you.

"Miche, please."

"You sound good when you beg," he tells you. You've been doing an awful lot of that tonight.

"Good enough to fuck me?"

"Mm, maybe," he plays, but he's cut off when you lift yourself just enough to take his cockhead inside of you, squeezing it so that he swears.

It completely dismantles any self-control Mike thought he had, and he gives you everything he has in a single thrust that makes you scream his name.

"You asked for it," he tells you, starting to pull out.

You grip his biceps, shaking your head. "J-just stay still for a—oh god, oh god…"

Mike doesn't move, lets you adjust while he enjoys the way your cunt clenches around his cock. You're panting, eyebrows knit together, and apologize, "Sorry, give me… a minute. Been a while since I've taken anything this s-size."

It's juvenile, but Mike's chest still puffs a little when you tell him that, and that feeling only grows when you give him the go ahead to move and he pulls out to see that his cock is already covered in white cream.

Breathing out a quiet, "Fuck," he slowly pushes back in, mesmerized by the way it creates a thick ring at the base. "So pretty," he mutters, rubbing a thumb over the skin that's stretched around him. "Such a pretty pussy."

He lets a string of spit drip from his mouth and onto your clit then strokes the swollen bud in circles, the pad of his fingers brushing over the tiny hole that makes you twitch every time.

Mike falls into a very slow, deep rhythm, torturing you as he drags his cock over every inch of your satin walls. Tiny gasps are pushed from your throat with every thrust, growing louder when Mike sits back on his heels and pulls your hips up to meet his. It leaves you helpless, only able to claw at the blankets, but your efforts are half-hearted, the press of Mike's cockhead against your g-spot obviously making it hard to do just about anything.

"I—I—I—..."

"You what, baby?" He coos while admiring how big his hands look where they wrap around your waist, holding you mostly still as he drives his cock in and out of you.

Your cunt is pulsing again, so tight around him as it drips with slick and cream. The sounds it's making, an obscene balance of suction and squelching, has Mike shaking over you because it's so lewd but so familiar, and god, he has missed this.

And, you're right. It's stupid because he's just putting himself in the same place he was in ten years ago, but now he's a grown fucking adult, able to handle himself better, communicate better, fuck you better.

Tears leak from the corners of your eyes when he picks up his pace, and he groans when he presses in just a little too far, cockhead nudging against the wall deep inside of you. Your eyelids flutter, toes curling where your feet dangle and shake on either side of Mike.

His hips start to snap against yours, his balls swinging every time, and Mike remembers how nice it felt when they'd slap against your clit, the way you'd sing for him, and well…

"Turn over," he breathes, pulling out and helping as you get to your hands and knees.

He takes the time to appreciate the view, letting the weight of his cock settle on your back just to get a visual of how much you take of it, what it might look like deep in your ass and what it would be like to see your stomach bulge from it.

Another day.

Not wasting any more time, Mike sheathes himself inside you once again, spreading your cheeks and spitting on your puckering hole so that he can press against it with a thumb.

Your pussy opens up for him, like your body is begging him for more, so Mike fucks you harder, faster, slipping the tip of his finger into your asshole so that you tense up and say his name drunkenly.

His heavy balls hit your clit over and over, making you squirm and swear, head hanging back in an invitation, so Mike uses his free hand to grab you by the hair, pulling and glancing at what he can see of your face to make sure he isn't hurting you too much.

That grin is back, crooked and shiny with drool you keep having to suck back from your teeth. Mike hasn't felt this good having sex in god knows how long (he knows exactly how long it's been), and he thinks out loud, "Always take my cock so well. Always been able to…"

"Feels so good, Miche," you cry, "You feel so fucking good, oh my god."

He takes you like this until you can't hold yourself up anymore, elbows buckling underneath you, and all he does then is fall onto his back and pull you with him, letting you ride him like this and dragging his nails down your spine. It curves under his touch, arching and bowing as you lean forward to plant your hands between his legs and bounce on him.

Mike has a perfect view from this angle, huffing at the way your puffy lips open for him, clinging to his cock and dripping gossamer strands. Pressure slowly starts to build in both his gut and his balls, a hot sensation that grows, making him feel full and swollen and fuck, he can't wait to fill you up, can't wait to see you sloppy with his cum again.

But, not yet. Not yet.

Pushing you until you move off of him, Mike grabs his pillows and shoves you down on them, kissing you again before burying his face between your legs. Your hands are immediately in his hair, and he smiles when you tug at it a little harshly, using the strands as a means to guide Mike right where you want him. Even though he's taking this little break to let himself calm down, he can't help but press his hips to the mattress. He's hot and throbbing and dripping pre, ready but not ready to unload everything inside of you. He doesn't want it to end too soon, wants to savor every second because you're here crying and pleading for him, pushing yourself against his face only to pull back when he sucks on your clit.

He's able to fit three fingers inside of you now, keeps licking and fucking you until you whisper a slew of curses and start to warn him, "You're gonna make me—" breaking into a high-pitched moan as you squirt into his mouth and all over his hand.

"Fuck yes, again, come on, baby, do that again."

Mike coaxes another out of you, groaning at the feeling of you dripping down his face and chuckling at the way you shiver and sit up. Your eyes are barely open, head swaying back and forth, but you plant a hand on his chest with the confidence of someone who doesn't look like they're about to pass out, shoving him back until he lays down.

Straddling him, you sink down on his cock and bite your lip as you rock back and forth for a few seconds. Mike can feel fluid dripping over his pelvis, murmurs, "So messy," while pulling you down for a lazy kiss.

He lets you ride him, lets you think you're in control for a while until your legs start to get tired, rhythm becoming slower, and then Mike takes over. He lifts and drops you to his content, hips meeting yours as he fucks up into you. Your own hands cup your tits, pinching your nipples and putting on a show as you bounce up and down.

"You're so good," you breathe. "So fucking good to me, god, Miche, right there."

He's on the brink, so close to his climax, but he holds back, giving it to you just the way you want it until it starts to hurt, and then he grunts, "'m gonna come, baby, I have to. Fuck, please, please, let me—"

"Yes, yes, wanna feel you…"

Mike's head sinks further into the pillow as his hips move without any thought on his part. He spills inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling your cunt so that it starts to leak out around him, then shooting even more inside of you.

"Jesus fucking—"

Your muscles clench, squeezing and milking him until Mike starts groaning and twitching from overstimulation.

He could die right here and now and be totally fine with it. He really could. But before he can let that happen...

Mike urges you back, letting you get situated on your pillows again as he gazes at your stretched pussy and everything dripping out of it.

As soon as you stop moving, Mike is working his tongue inside of you. He can taste both himself and you, feel it coat his tongue as he drinks in as much as he can before sliding up to your face and taking your chin so you'll open your mouth.

The first drop makes you open wider, sticking your tongue out so that Mike can fill your mouth with his cum and spit, and the fact that you let him is so incredibly arousing, he just might fuck you until he's coming dry.

The little pattern is repeated a few times, Mike licking your pussy then spitting everything into your mouth, but he leaves some for lubrication, shoving the last of his cum back inside you when he starts fucking you on his fingers. He keeps you pliant, sucking on your clit so that he can slowly ease his pinky into your ass, and it isn't long before you're letting out breathy little sounds and tensing underneath him.

He takes care of you through your orgasm, looking at your face from where he lays. You're so pretty when you come, mouth open, eyebrows high, the picture of ecstasy, and Mike wants to remember it forever. He wants to keep you like this forever.

You shudder when he pulls his fingers from you, whine when he slowly laves over your sensitive pussy with his tongue, but after several long licks, Mike crawls back up to lay next to you.

"God damn," you laugh. "I had almost forgotten how good you are."

Mike smirks, kissing your temple and nipping the shell of your ear. "Almost?"

You nod, a spent smile making your lips curl. "I don't think I could ever fully forget even if I wanted to."

Humming, he traces fingers over your stomach, now sticky from the mess of precum he had basically slathered you with.

"Yeah, we were pretty good for each other when we weren't being stupid," he muses.

He should probably step away for a few minutes, hop in the shower and wait for the flood of chemicals in his brain to fall away.

"We were, weren't we?"

"Mhm."

Mike dips to press his face into your neck. He just can't stop touching you, can't stop breathing you in. He needs to memorize everything about this—how soft you are underneath him, how you smell like sex and sweat and your perfume, how quiet your voice is when you speak to him.

He feels your body rise and fall with a heavy sigh, and he's about to ask if you want to rinse off, but you open your mouth first, thoughtful when you tell him, "I loved you so much, Miche."

"I know," he replies. Even if he couldn't see it then, he can now. You may not have told him to his face, but if Mike had been just a little smarter back then, he would have realized you were telling him in different ways. "I loved you too."

He feels you pet his hair, probably a tangled wreck from being pulled. "I, uh…" You swallow hard, and Mike rests his chin on the hand on your chest, your heart beating against his palm a little too fast.

"You wanna shower before you say whatever you're about to?"

He knows what you're about to tell him. He just wants to make sure you don't regret it when you come back to yourself. "Yeah, probably."

Both of you leave the bed on unsteady legs, Mike leading you to the shower and setting it to your favored temperature. He stands under the spray with you, taking the brunt of the water while kissing you. You move slowly, tangling your tongue with his, mapping out his body with exploratory hands.

Mike is the one to break away after several minutes, insisting on soaping you up and dragging his loofah over your skin. He even sinks to his knees, gentle as he cleans your thighs and between them, careful not to get suds anywhere they're not supposed to be. When he’s finished, Mike presses a kiss to your pelvic bone before standing again, grinning when you pull him back to your face.

He doesn't have the same, short refractory period he used to otherwise he'd fuck you against the tiled wall, but he's content to stay like this, sucking on your lip and pressing against you.

Even after you've been given the chance to get your thoughts in order, you still blink up at Mike, water droplets dotting and falling from your eyelashes as you tell him, "I love you. I still love you. I don't think I can stop."

He holds your head in his hands, brushes his nose against yours as his chest swells with more emotion than he thinks he can actually handle, and his own confession is easy: "I love you, too." Another soft peck to your lips before he adds, "I think you already knew that, though."

"Wasn't positive."

Mike knows there are logistics to consider, but the two of you can work on that later. For now he just wants to finish rinsing off and crawl into bed with you.

He should probably change the sheets, though, and find you pajamas, so Mike does exactly that as you traipse back out to the kitchen for some water, wearing absolutely nothing and making him bite his lip.

He puts new bedding on the mattress, then digs through his dresser for a t-shirt and boxers. Something catches his eye, printed material that almost makes him laugh out loud. He doesn't know why he still has the shorts, especially since he ruined the shirt a long, long time ago, but he's so glad he does.

Pink and covered in palm trees, he can't even fit into them any more, but it's fine. He thinks he knows how he can repurpose them.

But first, he needs to call his mom.

It's an easy fix, really. Before the Sina project even comes close to wrapping up, Mike finds a place for you in his department, something you hadn't thought possible, but apparently he's kind of a big deal in the field.

When he makes you the job offer in the conference room, he's able to keep it professional for a whole three minutes before you agree to the terms, and then he's out of his chair and picking you up to swing around. Just like that, the whole fucking office knows about the two of you.

"Ha! You owe me fifty bucks, Moblit!" Hange shouts for everyone to hear, and you shake your head as the quiet man asks if he can Venmo them.

"I fucking knew it! I knew there was something going on! God, that's so satisfying. I'm not even mad that you're leaving us."

"It's been going on for a long time now," you snort.

Hange leans against the wall and wriggles their eyebrows, "Yeah, what, like, the whole three months we’ve been here?"

"Try ten years," Mike mutters, and the eyes behind Hange's glasses nearly roll out of their head.

You and Mike have to sign a few things, contracts and couples disclosures and what not, but you don't mind.

The first thing you do is ask for a few days off in order to move, and Mike naturally does the same to help. You live just over three hours away, but are able to recruit some help in the form of your old friends.

You let out a shrill scream when you see Erwin step out of his car outside of your apartment complex, all but throw yourself into his arms so that he laughs and squeezes you tight against him. It's been a couple years since you've actually seen him, the distance between you just a little too far, but it's so nice to stare at his stupid face again.

Nile is also there with a very pregnant Marie on his arm, and Hitch and Rhi arrive as all the guys are carrying down the first load of packed boxes.

"Damn, it has been a long time since we've all been together," you say, looking around at everyone and grinning after you tape up another set of cardboard flaps.

"Yeah, kinda weird how we all just get along now," Hitch giggles.

"It's almost like we're adults or something," Rhi adds.

You pass her the box, but she just groans and passes it to Erwin.

Everyone takes turns making trips to Mike's apartment, and the moving effort takes three days in total. You really need to find a way to repay all of them, maybe suggest a nice dinner.

"God, why do you own so much shit, babe?" Mike asks after loading the last shelves of a bookcase into his car (that you still hate).

"Because everything has sentimental value. Don't judge me."

"Oh, I'm judging. When'd you get so soft?"

You roll your eyes and reach past him to close the trunk door.

The others are all standing in the parking lot with you, antsy and excited for the two of you, or so you assume.

"I really can't thank you guys enough. You've made this so much easier," you tell them.

Erwin grins widely and pulls you into a hug, and to your surprise, Hitch slides around you to hold you from behind. It makes you laugh and call them dumb, but when they step back, you're hit with the realization that they weren't just being goofy; they were strategizing, keeping you shielded from Mike who is now kneeling on the asphalt and chewing on his bottom lip.

Your eyes grow wide, and you step back only to run straight into Erwin's chest. He puts two, grounding hands on your shoulders, and you can almost feel his smile as Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box.

A small pink box.

A small pink box with pieces of fucking palm trees wrapping around it.

"Did you get that fucking upholstered?" You shout, and Mike lets out a giddy laugh, his eyes so narrow from grinning that you can barely see the green. "I don't even wanna open it. I cannot believe—"

"Good thing you don't have to open it then," he chuckles. “I do.”

"You are fucking impossible, you know that?"

"Yeah," he agrees before prying the ridiculous box apart and revealing a ring that makes you tear up.

It isn't huge, but it's far from plain, sparkling stones wrapping around it with a larger, round cut in the middle. It's extremely pretty and very you, and oh, you wanna put it on, you wanna put it on right now.

"Don't look too impressed. Mom helped me pick it out, and it’s all ethically sourced, of course," Mike says, and you wipe your eyes while giggling.

"Oh my god, she's crying!" Rhi yells.

"Shut up, it's because of that atrocious box."

Mike looks behind you at Erwin. "I knew she'd love it."

"Yeah, good call, bro."

"I hate both of you."

"Still gonna marry me, though, right?" Mike is still grinning, but you can see the barest hint of worry in his eyes, and you can't blame him because this is big. This is commitment. Marriage. He wants you to marry him.

And, some will say it’s too quick, that you’ve only been actually dating for a couple of months, but it makes sense because if you’re being honest, you never really fell out of love with Mike. He’s always been nestled deep in your heart.

"Against my better judgement," you smirk.

He stands up quick enough to make himself dizzy, has to brace a hand on his car as he kisses you.

"Finally!" Erwin shouts, clapping his hands and being joined by the others.

Mike slides the ring from the terrible box, pushes it onto your finger with shaky hands, and when you admire it in the sun, you look at him and nod. "Very nice, Zacharias. Even in the parking lot setting."

"I just wanted everyone to be here! If we went somewhere fancy, you would've figured it out."

That's true. Going to some nice restaurant or quaint little park would have definitely tipped you off.

"Also, you know once we're married, you will also be Zacharias."

"Yeah," you nod thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess I will be. Hey," you look at him with raised eyebrows. "Wanna shotgun beers at the wedding?"

Mike laughs loudly. "That is how it all started, isn't it?"

"Yeah, this stupid frat boy in a Hawaiian shirt came up to me and demanded I shotgun a room temp beer."

"Sounds like an asshole," Mike chuckles.

You shrug as he pulls you into his chest and sigh into his shirt, "He turned out alright, I guess."

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

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