#you saved me..! why?.. mm.. monkey.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[bookishdiplodocus]

A longread on writing comedy

This is what I do to research writing comedy:

What helped me most was analyzing a lot of jokes: "It's funny. Why is it funny? How does this joke work?" Usually it's something that subverses the expectations in a specific way or an unexpected collision of two things. (Like a pun is a collision of sound and meaning.) For my analysis, I wonder: "What is the expectation after the set-up? Why do I have this expectation? How does the pay-off subverse the expectation? Why does it still make sense in relation to the set-up?"

For example: I unleashed this kind of analysis on the movie George of the Jungle. It has a surprisingly high hit rate, I think around three jokes per minute in the first one third of the movie, and it still manages to get the story going and the characters introduced. I’ve mentioned this before, but I don’t think I gave examples, and you know I’m all about the teaching.

I found at least 17 types. Heads up, this is going to be a longread.

Type 1: Puns

Narrator: “When they finally beheld the mighty Ape Mountain…” [They see a mountain shaped like a gorilla head.] Narrator, cont’d: “… they reacted with awe.” All: “Aww.” Narrator: “I said ‘awe”. A-W-E.” All: “Ooh!” Narrator: “That’s better.”

Explanation:

The pun lies in the fact that “awe” and “aww” sound the same.

There is a visual type of comedy as well that we can’t effectively reproduce in writing: the mountain is shaped like a gorilla head.

BTW: the narrator defies genre expectations by interacting with the characters, and the characters defy genre expectations by being able to hear the narrator.

Type 2: Tone of voice

Narrator, about the main characters: “Scraped and boo-booed, they searched high and low.

Explanation:

“Boo-booed” is a children’s word, not the tone you would use for a hero. Compare “tummy” and “stomach”.

Type 3: Defying genre expectations

[The guide falls off a rope bridge into a deep chasm.] Narrator: “Don’t worry—nobody dies in this story. They just get really big boo-boos.”

Explanation:

The narrator is breaking the fourth wall.

Again: tone of voice with the “boo-boos”.

Contrast between the boo-boo and the injuries one usually suffers after falling into a deep chasm.

Type 4: Not defying genre expectations

[A lion appears from the bushes. A baby monkey makes a sound like “uh-oh”.] [The baby monkey does the Tarzan call and bangs its chest.] [The lion flees.] [The monkey giggles.] [The monkey gives George a thumbs up.] [From the bushes, the lion winks at George. George winks back.]

Explanation:

Expectation: the lion is a danger to the baby monkey and George will need to fight it to save the monkey.

Defying expectations: the monkey and the lion are in on the plan.

Not defying genre expectations: George of the Jungle is clearly based on Tarzan. George doesn’t refer to that fact, but the monkey does, by doing the Tarzan call and banging its chest.

Improbable: monkeys who giggle and give thumbs up.

Impossible: lions who wink.

Type 5: Contrast

Narrator: “Meanwhile, 43 vines away, George’s kingdom is being threatened by a terrifying intruder.” [We see the adorable Leslie Mann, who plays Ursula, smiling and talking to the camera.] Ursula: “Hi! It’s me again!”

Explanation:

Contrast between what the narrator says and what we see.

The narrator isn’t lying. He refers to Lyle and the poachers who will be introduced in this scene.

There’s also humor in the phrase “43 vines away”, because of the overt specificity and because a vine is not a measure of distance.

Type 6: Oblivious character

[Lyle takes a Polaroid picture of one of the guides.] Lyle: “Do you like it? Magic picture. Yet another gift from America. Here you go. You’re welcome.” [The guide replies in Swahili. There is no translation in the subtitles.] [All the guides laugh.] [The guide continues in Swahili. Only the last few words are in English: “35 mm.” The guide takes his own camera and snaps a picture of Lyle.] [All the guides and Ursula laugh.] Lyle, not amused: “Translation, please.” Other guide: “He says he likes your magic pictures, but he prefers the resolution of the Leica 35 mm transparencies.” [Everyone but Lyle laughs.] Other guide, cont'd: “He also says your lens is dirty, but he has the equipment to clean it for you.”

Explanation:

Lyle doesn’t understand Swahili, while the guides understand everything Lyle says to them in English.

The fact that Ursula, Lyle's fianceé, understands Swahili and laughs along with the guides, is adds contrast to his obliviousness.

Lyle is the butt of the joke. He humiliates the guides and now he’s humiliated on his own turf while the guides don’t stoop down to his level.

This joke is threefold: 1. The set-up: Lyle is the arrogant asshole who thinks he’ll show the locals about technological development. 2. The guide is not only not impressed, he knows Polaroid and has a camera of his own, and is knowledgeable. 3. And he demonstrates his superiority in a (more or less) polite way.

Type 7: Slapstick

[George is swinging on the vines.] Narrator: “He is swift. He is strong. He is sure. He is smart.” [George hits a tree and falls.] Narrator, deadpan: “He is unconscious.”

Explanation:

Slapstick is another type of humor that barely translates to written fiction, when the actors behave silly, for example by falling over, hurting themselves, or others. It's often over the top. Laurel & Hardy is a well-known example of slapstick.

Type 8: Alliteration

Narrator: “The tired trekkers trudged on feverish footsies over perilous paths.”

Explanation:

If several words in each other’s vicinity start with the same letter, it’s called alliteration.

Note that "footsies" is another example of a contrast in tone of voice—it’s another children’s word.

Type 9: Improbable things

[George spins a lion over his head.] George: “George not even trying hard.”

Explanation:

While not impossible, spinning an actual lion over one’s head is improbable and thus goes against real-world expectations.

Type 10: Impossible things

[A gorilla called Ape enters George’s tree house and scares Ursula.] Ursula: “What does it want? What does it want?” Ape: [points at a big book] “It wants its Physician’s Desk Reference, if you don’t mind, unless you’d rather die of dengue fever, of course.” [Ursula faints again.]

Explanation:

Gorillas can’t talk, can’t read, and aren’t usually well-versed in curing tropical diseases.

Type 11: Breaking social norms

[Ursula is unconscious. George licks her face, clearly meaning well.]

Explanation:

In our society, it is not only considered impolite but also gross to lick the face of a stranger. The fact that George does this anyway, clearly not realizing he does something wrong, is a subversion of what we’d expect of social norms and behavior.

Type 12 and 13: Hyperbole and understatement

[Earlier, Ursula fainted when she saw Ape talk and do human things.] [Ape is reading when he sees Ursula look at him. He panics, throws the book away, starts grunting, and bangs his chest.] [Ursula faints again.] Ape: “Eh.”

Explanation:

Ursula fainting again is a hyperbole: a reaction that is stronger than expected.

Ape saying “Eh.” is an understatement: a reaction less strong than expected.

Type 14: Obvious repetitions

Ursula: “… And I didn’t want my fianc—Um, this guy I was with, to worry.” Narrator, a few moments later: “George and Ursula set out on a desperate search to find her fianc—Uh, that guy she was with.”

Type 15: Stating the obvious

[We see the guide’s hand, pointing at a really big footprint in the mud.] Narrator: “Meanwhile, back at the really big footprint in the mud, (...)”

Explanation:

Stating the obvious can be funny because the audience doesn’t expect you to do or say this because it is so very obvious.

Type 16: Adult humor

[George watches Ursula sleep.] George: “George having stirrings of special feelings right now.” Ape, drily: “I see.” George: “Good thing she same species, huh?”

Explanation:

Ape’s reply, “I see”, could be an innuendo, but it doesn’t come across as a joke (to me at least). Maybe it’s downplayed because it’s a children’s movie.

If this is an innuendo, it’s a play on words. “I see”, figuratively, for “I understand”, or literally for “Yes, I can tell from your erection.”

“Good thing she same species” because George shouldn’t have stirrings of special feelings for animals.

Type 17: Rhyme

[George is swinging on a vine.] George: “Look, like this!” Song: “He flies through the air with the greatest ease.” Song, cont’d: “Our daring young man on the flying trapeze.” [George hangs upside down from a vine.] George: “Look, no hands.” Song, cont’d: “His movements so grateful, all girls he could please.” Song, cont’d: “And with love he is swinging away…” [On the ground, gorillas frantically run back and forth with a safety net.] Song, cont’d: “He flies through the air with the greatest of ease.” Ursula: “George, watch out for that—” Song, cont’d while George yelps: “Our daring young man on the—” [Song stops abruptly.] [Thud] [George grunts.] Ursula: “… tree.”

Explanation:

When words end in the same sounds, we call it rhyme.

It’s physically impossible to hang from a vine with no hands.

The gorillas with the safety net imply that they expect George to fall.

Also, it’s improbable that gorillas would do this.

Slapstick: George hitting the tree.

Comedic timing: Ursula being just too late to warn George about the tree.

Song + Ursula: “Our daring young man on the—tree.” Because by then he is literally stuck to the tree.

Or throw everything at the audience, whatever.

[George has a pet elephant, Shep, who behaves like a happy doggy.] [Shep is chewing a humongous bone.] Narrator: “Later, they rested, while the tired tusker teethed on a… Wait a second, the dog bone is too much. Lose it.” [The dog bone disappears.] Narrator: “That’s better.” [Shep whines.]

Explanation:

Improbable: Pet elephant who behaves like a doggy.

Alliteration: “tired tusker teethed”

Fourth wall: the narrator comments on the story while it is going on, and edits it.

*** Here are some other funny situations from the movie. Try to analyze what’s going on. Usually you can spot several types.

Situation 1

Narrator: “Meanwhile, at a very big and expensive waterfall set, Ursula was amazed that she was lost in the wilderness with a jungle man.” Ursula: “And here I am, lost in the wilderness with a jungle man.”

Situation 2

Narrator: “The guides came dangerously close—” Narrator: “That is, dangerously close to shove a coconut up in Kyle’s—” Narrator: “Sleeping bag.”

Situation 3

Lyle: “I am the richest, handsomest, smartest guy here, so I get to go first!” [Lyle pushes past everyone, trips over a tree stump and lands face first in a steaming pile of elephant poop.] Lyle: “There’s an elephant here.” Guide, while looking straight into the camera: “Bad guy falls into poop. Classical element of physical comedy.” Guide, cont’d: “Now comes the element where we throw our heads back and laugh.” Guide, cont’d: “Ready?” Other guides, while also looking straight into the camera: “Ready!” [All the guides throw their heads back and laugh.] [Monkey laughs and points at Lyle.] [Off-screen, other animals make laughing sounds.] Lyle, spitting out poop: “Those are nowhere near properly digested.” Lyle, cont’d: “In case anyone is wondering, I’m okay.”

Situation 4

[Cliffhanger: it looks like Lyle has shot George from up close.] Narrator: “Whew! Okay kids, let’s settle down and review the important information. Lyle is a big doofus. Poor George was actually shot but can’t die because, let’s face it, he’s the hero. So, the naturally concerned and preternaturally wealthy Ursula Stanhope whisked George away on a private jet bound for the country of his birth—” [George has a tiny band-aid on his forehead.] Narrator, cont’d: “—where he’s gonna get the finest medical treatment available!” Ursula: “I’m gonna get you the finest medical treatment available.”

Situation 5

Narrator: “Well, Ursula […] could use a best friend now.” Best friend: “Hi!” Ursula: “He’s in the shower.” Best friend, distracted: “Not anymore.” George, naked: “Bad waterfall. First, water get hot—” [A sexy saxophone plays] George, cont’d: “Then George slips on this strange yellow rock.” [Perspective: the camera looks at the two women, seen from between George’s legs. They are clearly ogling his crotch.] [Ursula swoons.] George, noticing the friend: “Hi! George of jungle.” Friend, eager: “Charmed, I’m sure.” [Ursula hands George objects that barely cover his crotch. The camera switches back to a frontal view of George. The friend is still ogling George.] Best friend, mumbling appreciatively: “I see why they made him king of the jungle.” *** I hope this was helpful. Don’t hesitate to ask me any questions, and happy writing!

Follow me for more writing advice, or check out my other writing tips here. New topics to write advice about are also always appreciated.

I'm too tired to bother with a tag list. If you like to be added to my list and get a notification whenever I post new writing advice, let me know.

[therobotmonster]

My Turtles of Grayskull 'Druthers

Okay, since the line is apparently not a limited-concept run but is going to instead run till the doors fall off, I'm gonna lay out my hopes and dreams for sweet-as-heck dumb conceptual mashups.

Lets stick some silly chocolate and some stupid-fun peanut butter together and make a decent candy and an awesome cereal.

I might be hungry.

Anyhow, lets make some monsters!

Ace Duck

I love the Tales of the Gold Monkey-inspired pilot Ace Duck more than the next guy, but this is MOTU we're dealin' with, we need ARCHIE Ace Duck.

He's literally born to be here. Basic body, skeletor feet, reuse the April O'Neil wings, little red thong or trunks (from the wrasslin' line), plus he can get stratos's little arm wings, and an alt head with the Stratos Mask on (evoking a lucha dore mask).

Ty-Gor - NInjor / Tigerclaw (but green!)

Ninjor gets mutated with Eternian Tiger DNA to become Ty-Gor.

Not limiting myself to the Fred Wolf era here. Basically its Ninjor with a Tigerclaw head (masked and two-eyed, unmasked and eyepatched), only with the green with orange stripes eternian tiger coloration. He gets a terror-claws skeletor claw, an eternian six-shooter (later usable for Rio-Blast) and the beastliest feet they can muster.

Mutant Evil-Lyn

Seeking to empower herself with this new "mutation" magic, Evil-Lyn made a potion of mutagen and Mantisaur venom. Ironically not her worst scheme.

Mantenna pelvis with new insect legs, Evil-Lyn torso with humanoid and mantisaur-mutant heads (still wearing her tiara as a mantisaur), slip-over mantis-claw weapons.

Kurai-Khan

I mean, it's not like she hasn't been here before. Lore establishes the Eternian magic gives her full control over her snake-form, and the ability to command the snake men... save for the Ratsnake King.

Deluxe figure, reusing a LOT of Lady Slither, But using Stephanie McMahon legs and torso, some new snake-gauntlets and a swappable set of heads. Snake-head has the spit-fx feature from Kobra Khan, flared cobra hood. And a katana, obviously.

General Pig-Iron - Pig-Head / General Traag (By way of Rokkon)

Krang's mutagenic experiments continue, this time he combines Sun-Man's Pig-Head and the Rock-Soldiers' DNA to make one stone-tough pigheaded warmonger.

The sculpt is mostly Rokkon, with a new stony pighead-face and more Traag-y chest (with ammo bandolier to mimic Pig-Head, 'natch)

The Ratsnake King - Rat King / King Hiss

Disappointed by the Rat-King's failures, Skeletor fuses him with the shed skin of King Hiss via sorcery and good old fashioned mutagen. The new horror can command serpents that were beyond even King Hiss's reach.

Ratsnake King uses the King hiss snake parts, with a new head & chest armor built on a mummy-esq reinterpretation of Rat King, snake-y crossbow and staff. Give him the Reptilax tail so he's a little snakey even in his 'human' form, he's a mutant, after all.

Mutagen-Man-E-Faces

This idea is from @skeletor-enjoyer who posted it in the replies to my previous glow-up post on this dumb-as-heck (affectionate) line.

This one's easy. New torso that allows for the Man-E-faces gimmick and a clear torso that can hold a gooey guts insert. Human face looks like nonmutant Seymour Gutz, Robot face replaced with foot-soldier (toonstyle) face, monster face is a hybrid MM/MEF monster face.

New limbs that will later be reused for Slushhead. Multiple replacement hands/limbs (clawful hand, etc) to simulate mutation/shapeshifting powers.

Foot 'Sploders - Foot soldiers / Blast-Attack

Krang: You know what Skeletoooorrruup? I like the iDEa of robots that are SUPPOSED to exPLooowwddee! Why can't YOU be this kind of go-getter Saaaaakiiii?

Shredder: You always undermine me in front of the crossover villains!

Skeletor: Don't stop on my account! I haven't had this much fun since Grizzlor fell into the slime pit! NYAH!

Excuse to make a somewhat functional Blast-Attack chest. Foot Soldier head with cartoon bomb in place of the foot symbol, long forearm sculpt (useful for 200X Beast Man) with arm-shield accessories. Tons of weapons. Legs from various wrasslers' with pants/boots.

Doctor Orkocutt the Fugilock

Orko uses his magic to fix the Fugitoid, but the spell goes awry, merging them into a single magi-technical absentminded genius. They work better this way, but trouble is bound to follow.

Orko Body, with premolds for a Netflix Orko in Classicverse arms, and a new fugiod-in-a-wizard-hat-head, with many many exchangeable hands.

Mutant Buzz-Off - Buzz-off/Killer Bee

A partially-translucent mutant like He-Man and the other corrupted hero mutants, only Buzz-Off is... kinda wild... wild enough I had to photoshop, albeit in a Q&D...

The basic idea is mutant Buzz-Off uses Mantenna's legs, Mosquitor's torso, a new head that's still compatible with the Mosquitor-grabber, Buzz-Off's left arm, Clawful's right, alt head of grimacing half-killer-bee Buzz_off. The goo is green or purple instead of red, for a mutagen-feature.

If compatible with the Mantenna legs, using the Buzz-Off feet is preferable, the same with the Skeleton Warrior arm and the left arm.

Bionaceraton - Triceraton / Bionatops

Ancient power arises as a Preternian ancestor to the Triceratons is awakened.

I mean, once again we pull out the Andre the Giant mold, this time giving it a tail and a Triceraton head, and slightly remolded chest armor. Garnish with sci-fi guns, put out in a handsome green colorscheme.

Mutant She-Ra - She-Ra / Swiftwind

Having last been in contact with Swiftwind before exposure to the mutagen, She-Ra's becomes an uncontrollable mutant Pegasus.

Am I suggesting they put a Unicorn head and Sorceress Wings on She-Ra, possibly with new 'buff gal' limbs that would make a Netflix-inspired Scorpia Possible? Yes. Yes I am. She's got a unicorn-horn spear weapon and is filled with a horselike rage.

Optikk

Look, its the TMNT crossover. You are required to have at least one of the New Adventures Mutants there, and Optikk is the most on-brand for the concept.

You can make him out of mostly Roboto Parts with a new armor piece for the collar and a new eyeball-head. Or just make the collar lock onto the head joint and have a free-spinning eye.

Mona Lis-Ra - Mona Lisa / She-Ra

Someone has to use the power sword while She-Ra's a nightmare mutant abomination!

It's pretty straightforward, She-Ra torso and upper arms/legs, new finned female lower arms and legs, new tailed female pelvis, new head. She-Ra's gear plus some extras to be shape-shifted forms for the sword.

Savanti Romeo and Renet

They're just there They're already designed for this world. To justify it, they have... uh... Savante has the dragon blast dragon that was used with Ricky the Steamboat Dragon, and Renet has... uh.. the time staff thing Gwildor used. Yeah, that's the ticket!

Bonus Round: Obligatory A-Character Variants:

TechnoWizard Dontatello - Backdoor Donatello #1 figure.

Anti-Eternia Raphael - Archie Comics fans know why.

Mutant Teela - She's a snake, again! This time give her a real snake head and a tail guys.

Mutant Skeletor - Goat Skull head, goat legs.

That's it for now, but even though many of these are a stretch, I'm sure it demonstrates the blood isn't nearly squeezed from this stone.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Blood Loss

so a long time ago i asked if anyone would read this if i wrote a really angsty mujin/taeju fic and here it is, finally

Read on Ao3

Warnings: major character death

Pairings: mujin/taeju

Word Count: 1164

"What is it?"

Mujin's voice was terse on the phone at being interrupted. Distracted, Taeju squeezed his eyes shut, one hand clamped to the blooming patch of red on his side. Just wanted to hear that voice, really.

"I presume you've got good reason for calling like this."

Taeju blinked, fighting off the wooziness. "Apologies, sir. Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Mm." He heard the creak of Mujin's desk. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see it. The dark wood…the sword…the gold light…

He snapped his eyes open. No. Stay awake.

"You will be if I find out you aren't calling for a damn good reason."

Will what? Oh, right, be sorry. "I know, sir."

It was getting darker.

"Well?"

He shook himself awake, blinking away the rain. "I'm here, 'm here."

A pause, then a rustle from Mujin's side. "You're drunk."

Taeju shook his head before remembering Mujin couldn't see him. "'M not. 'M not drunk."

Mujin sighed. He could see his expression, how his brow would furrow just slightly, his mouth pursed just a bit, an eyebrow raised. He'd lean to one side of his chair, his fingers tapping on the armrest.

"Not that I'm not flattered," he heard Mujin say, "but of all the reasons I expect you to call me, drunk dialing is not one of them."

"I said 'm not drunk."

A scoff. "Don't get me wrong. This is…adorably pathetic, but there's not much dignity left to save at this point." Another rustle. "Go totter out of whatever back alley bar you're in and sober up, hmm?"

Taeju's gaze slid unfocused over the corpses littering the alley as the rain fell cold over his shaking hand. He swallowed, grip beginning to slacken.

"'S raining, sir."

"Mm, then you'd best be quick about it." He could hear Mujin losing interest. "Scurry on home."

Home. That apartment with clinically selected furniture and nothing that actually meant anything, that wasn't home.

Mujin's end was silent and only then did he register he'd spoken out loud.

"Cut back next time," Mujin's voice came, "because as entertaining as your drunken fumblings are, darling, I need you sharp. You're a good tool, not a dancing monkey."

Darling. Mujin called him darling.

"And as much as I love being the only important thing in your life, I'm not here to hold your hand and make sure you drink water." Oh. Mujin was angry now. "Go find someone needy enough to deal with you when you're clingy."

The alley was getting cold. It was getting darker. His hand slid off. Blood pooled under him. Still, he tried to stay doggedly away to hear Mujin's voice.

"Understand?"

It took a moment to register he expected an answer. "Yeah. Y'sir, I understand."

"Good. Don't let it happen again."

Taeju looked around the alley. His body sagged. "Don't worry, sir. It won't."

The line went dead.

Taeju's grip failed. The phone slid to the ground and clattered on the loose cobbles. He slumped over. The rain drowned out the sounds of the cars on the nearby road. He stared at the dead face of the body across from him.

His eyes began to fall shut.

Darling, he thought as his lungs began to fail, blood pooling under him, he called me darling.

* * *

Mujin frowned at the phone, staring at the line that read Jung Taeju. That was…bizarre. He'd never known Taeju to turn down a good drink but never had he heard him that drunk. And he'd certainly never gone so far as to drunk dial anyone, let alone Mujin.

Something tugged at the back of his mind and he shook his head. Taeju could handle himself. He tried to get back to work but the feeling wouldn't go away.

Sighing, he picked up the phone and sent a car to go drag him out of whatever hole he'd crawled into.

He got a call not twenty minutes later.

"Have you found him?"

"…yes, sir."

He frowned. "What?"

"…I think you should get down here as soon as possible, sir."

"And why should I do that?"

His phone buzzed with a photo. His eyes widened.

His car arrived in the alley in ten minutes and he got out, snapping open a black umbrella. Dongcheon was already there, crawling over the other corpses.

"Where is he?"

Someone guided him through, stopping near a stretch of pavement stained with blood. A body lay against the cobbles.

He looked down.

The rain hadn't washed all the blood from his hands, red still curling off his fingers. The face of his watch was speckled with blood, glass cracked from something during the fight. Mujin reached out, taking a hold of Taeju's limp wrist.

He remembered giving him this watch. How big Taeju's eyes were, still not used to hiding his emotions behind a steel wall. He remembered how small his wrists used to be, how his pulse had jumped as Mujin slid the watch onto his hand.

Mujin pressed his fingers against that wrist now.

Nothing.

"You idiot," he muttered, "why didn't you call for help?"

His gaze landed on something lying next to one of Taeju's outstretched hands. He picked it up, turning it over. A phone. Taeju's phone. The screen lit up.

"Find who did this," Mujin ordered, "and bring them to me. I don't care what you have to do, just bring them to me alive."

The alley roused into action, corpses hauled off the ground as other orders were barked. Cars sped off down the road, headlights blaring, as the alley was vacated.

Mujin was left alone, a still point in the rain, still staring down at the phone. He pocketed it, his name still lit up on the screen. He reached out and fixed the watch.

"You were telling the truth," he murmured, voice almost lost in the rain, "you weren't drunk."

He reached up and brushed some of the wet hair back from his forehead.

"Why didn't you say something," he whispered, "why didn't you say anything?"

But as he looked at the wounds, at the blood, he knew the answer. No one could have gotten here in time. Taeju was going to die in this alley no matter what he did, and he knew it.

His phone burned in Mujin's pocket.

He moved a little closer, holding the umbrella so the rain wouldn't fall on Taeju's face anymore.

"You never did remember to bring a raincoat," he murmured, carefully brushing the water from his cheeks, "we used to have to keep one in the car."

Taeju's skin was cold.

Abruptly, Mujin fisted the hair at the back of the limp head and leaned down, breath shuddering across the cold cheek.

"I'll find them," he swore, "I'll find who did this. And I'll make them regret ever laying a hand on you, darling."

Thunder rolled as he stood up, Taeju's phone tucked securely into his pocket as the car rumbled in wait.

[lara-legomonkiekid]

EP.4 Noodles or Death

{Third part}

(The Spider Queen begins to make her meal.)

Tang: Don't worry, Pigsy. I'm sure the kid will be here to rescue us any minute.

Spider Queen: (Laughs.) Ain't no one gonna rescue you, sweet thing.

Tang: Shows what you know. Our friend, the Monkie Kid, is probably already on his way.

Spider Queen: The Monkie Kid? (Laughs.) Why would he come and help you?

Tang: Well, I'm kind of like a father figure. (Pigsy rolls his eyes.) (Laughs.) I think you better let us go. Before he comes and, uh, squishes you with Monkey King's legendary staff!

Spider Queen: Hmm. Interesting. 'Fraid dinner would have to wait. We gotta get this place ready for company. (Laughs.) (She leaves.)

Tang: Don't worry, Pigsy. MK is far too smart to fall into one of her traps.

(Tang notices that Pigsy is very worried but ends up becoming quiet when he hears something coming from the wall near them).

_______________________________________________

(With the others, MK was trying to get out of the speedboat.)

Mei: Maybe you should've saved your boat for an adventure with more water.

Sandy: Yeah, I, uh, just got excited.

MK: (Screams.) Spider Demon!

(The baby spider on MK's hair laughs. Mei blows the spider off of MK.)

Mei: MK, it's just a little baby spider. Come on, let's go find Piggy and Lara.

Sandy: And Tang.

MK: Ok, I'll use my super sight of truth to find our friends in this palace of nightmares. (He uses his Golden Eyes of Truth)

Sandy: What do you see, MK?

MK: (He sees some spiders.) Ew! Ew! This place is full of webs and horror! We're never gonna get though all this!

Mei: (She puts her hand on MK's shoulder) Ahem, if you'll allow me. (She grabs her sword, and blasts a hole in a wall to let the others get through.)

Sandy: (He sees Pigsy and Tang) Pigsy! Tangy!

(Mei, Sandy, and Mo get taken away by webs.)

Mei: MK!

MK: Mei! (The Dragon Blade drops in front of him. He begins to quiver until he turns around, seeing the Spider Queen)

Spider Queen: Don't tell me you're scared of spiders?

Pigsy: (He spits out the spider web from his mouth.) Kid, run! (MK runs while the Spider Queen chases him. Pigsy sees the Dragon Blade on the ground) I'm sorry, Tang. I got this into this mess. We're gonna meet to work together to get out of it.

Tang: Mm-hm. (He and Pigsy swing themselves off the web and land on the Dragon Blade, cutting the cocoon and freeing themselves.)

Narrator: Operation: MK From the Nightmare Hole.

[First]-[Next]

[pbaintthetb]

more boys s4e2

s

A-Train again!

oop and his brother's showed up, here's some good shit then, yeah I thought they might be the nephews oh god I love his family it's great it's awful it's great

"I won't watch you kill yourself, out run this"

also back to starlight for a moment, the idea of starlight being a hopeful symbol, but a bad one to Annie

Nathan saying A-Train never saved anyone (and oof, yeah)

but also like, poor A-Train but allso also "out run this" and tbf this is the secon dattempt at reconciliatoin so

was gonna say that I appreciate that Butcher pegged Kimiko was drunk without even speaking to her btu actually consdiering Butcher's... everything yeah why I am I surprised?

FRENCHIE DON'T ASK KIMIKO TO HURT YOU

oh the two of them :-((((

OMG A-TRAIN IN THEIR OFFICE, yes I love it when A-train shows up on them. Massive end of s2 energy when A-train gave Annie and Hughie the lowdown on Stormfront's nazi past (and present lbr) because he knew he wouldn't be able to get back in as a black man

like he's very self serving, um but he's really interseting like and it's what I said last ep is that he's so sick of playing vought's tune at this point, like his heart attack made him see some things, but not so much regret as how weak his position really is and how much he dgaf

like, oh A-train's arc is always so fucking good

Annie "Thank Hughie. I would have blasted the shit out of you, and you would ahve deserved it." A-Train "[beat]. Yeah I agree"

I'm also particuarly interested by A-train's past with Sage and his off the cuff line about her being a genius but not knowing when to shut her mouth... lik ews he just being a generic dick and she said stuff he didnt want to hear or is this more meaningful- like Sage is smart but Homelander is deranged and powerful and wants her to be helpful but hates being "put down" like is she gonna say the wrong thing... or is she gonna piss off vought? or is she gonna be the new top dog...

lmao, homelander ruining all of vought's plans and sage's advice since the second he grew up

and oops. They killed the stunt guy. "you saved me"- that strangled voice, ryan's horrified stare, honey get butcher back in your life, cna't believe I said that- actually do what Butcher said (possibly a worse statment) get Mallory back in your life while Butcher fucks off again

oop that was a set up for them

"Your rifles are garish and vulgar"- frenchie istg I know you're like an ex weapons dealer/smith but lmao, also him being called a "surrender monkey"

uh... boys, I know Kimiko's immortal and all, but did you just lock her in with teh splinter clones in your escape

DECEASED at the photo booth pictures of Kimiko and Firecracker fighting

Frenchie's little smirk at butcher showing up vs mm's rage when telling him to fuck off.... i mean i know the circumstances are different but it's like... Butcher's always had a very different hold over frenchie vs mm. Indeed, Butcher has a hold, over frenchie and that is the source of a lot fo s3 tension.

And MM still comes through for Butcher where it counts, of course

uh, I mean Idk I don't want to advocate for murder but also... tey just let Firecracker go? damn the boys (sans kimiko perhaps) goign soft in their old age * I'm not truing to say Kimiko is soft, lord knows she is and can be violent, it's more that she's not for sensless violence against randos unless they pose a physical threat or were connected to her trafficking etc (reasonable) where as butcher is supe/blood hungry and frenchie's just... curious

HOMELANDER ISTFG don't pull out your supreamcist bs rn, or maybe do and perhaps ryan will realise what a pos you are, like pls tell me you can't reverse becca's teaching that quickly

"they're only human"

frenchie snorting drugs again

anyway s4 does feel a lot more like s1 but in a good way unlike d3 whch was like "what if we reversed all character growth"

Cherie! and uh she looks better than she has in thepast, she also looks uh, more with reality

OH FUCK COLIN AND FRENCHIE HAVE A PAST oop oop oop

oh frenchie ffs, does explain teh issues though, they were personal!

"I spent a week standing by the front door telling dad y ou'd be back" oh fucking god, oh hughie :-(

oh does the former Mrs Campbelll feel sad? cry me a river mate, you left, hughie has every right to be mad, and even if you're justified, hughie dont' know that and you hur thim. he has every right ot be mad.

[lovemedxead]

Not my stupid ass thinking about that meme from Kung Fu Panda

"You saved me, why?"

"mmm, monkey."

Anyways, nice prompt :D

Update: I FOUND IT

PLEASE I CAN'T BE THE ONLY ONE

Prompt 172

“You saved me.” The hero trembled like a leaf in the wind, head still swimming from the intensity of the last few minutes. “Why?”

“I want you there when I win,” The villain brushed their cheek softly, a small smile on their face. “Whether it’s by my side or at my feet is up to you.”

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Calling Out For Her

Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader

A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158

(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.

A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.

The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.

“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.

She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.

“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.

“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s  mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.

“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.

Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!

“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!

The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.

“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.

For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.

“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.

“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.

“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.

“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”

“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.

“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”

(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.

(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?

(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.

“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”

Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.

“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.

“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.

(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.

***

Cassandra was a menace.

After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.

Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.  

Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.

(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.

As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.

“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.

“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.

“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.

“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”

“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.

(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid’s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.

The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?

(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.

“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.

As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.

She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.

It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.

The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—

“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”

(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.

“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”

“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.

“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”

“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.

“Daniela, take a closer look.”

“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.

“Cass is literally going to kill me.”

“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.

“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.

“Bela!”

“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.

The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.

***

When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.

With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.

Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.

“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”

“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.

Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.

“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.

“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”

“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.

(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.

“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.

“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”

“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.

“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”

“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.

“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.

“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.

“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”

“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”

“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.

“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.

“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.

***

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.

Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.

Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.

“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”

“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”

The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.

“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”

“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”

“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”

“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”

“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”

“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”

“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.

“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”

“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.

The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.

“Cassandra!”

“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.

“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.

It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.

“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”

Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.

“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”

(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.

The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.

Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.

“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”

(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”

“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.

“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”

“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.

“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.

“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.

“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”

“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”

“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”

(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.

“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.

Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.

She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.

“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”

(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.

Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.

(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.

“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.

“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.

“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.

“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”

“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.

“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.

“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”

“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.

“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.

Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.

“What do you want?” She grumbled.

“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.

“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.

“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.

“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.

It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.

“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”

“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.

“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.

“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.

Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,

“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.

(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.

(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.

“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”

Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.

Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.

“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.

“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.

Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.

“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.

“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.

“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.

Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.

“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”

Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.

“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.

[fanmoose12]

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

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

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

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

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

And then...

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

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

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

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

Erwin Smith.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not at Sina's Gossips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A strange man who lost his pet lobster…

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

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

Levi interrupts her by kicking her leg under the desk.

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

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

“You have a meeting this Friday, remember?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you remember his name at least?”

“Zeke Yeager, right?”

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

Hange’s senses start tingling…

“Do you know each other?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you wish to come with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Levi answers. Hange grins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

wings_of_freedom@gmail.com

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

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

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

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

Apparently, romance isn’t quite dead yet.

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

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

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

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

But with her… it’s a bit different.

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

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

Thank you in advance.

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

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

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

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

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

Hange can only guess what type the lover boy is.

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t know you’d bring a friend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She doesn’t even like strawberry cupcakes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A confused look Levi sends her confirms her suspicion.

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

“Call me Zeke,” he retorts charmingly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Your offer?”

“To change your workplace.”

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

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

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

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

“So what exactly it is that you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I asked you first.”

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

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

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

“It’s your chance,” Levi repeats.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

Being rich is easy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“With great pleasure, four-eyes.”

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

As always, he doesn’t disappoint.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And then me,” Hang gleefully adds.

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

“We have the worst friends ever.”

Hange laughs. She very much begs to differ.

***

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

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

It doesn’t last for long, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking of Erwin…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiles and opens the letter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, thankfully, it comes to her easily.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully, they both listen to her.

***

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

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

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

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

“Remember my cousin? Mikasa?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh? Why?”

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“I haven’t.”

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

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

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Levi rolls his eyes, apparently refusing to even entertain this idea. “The article will be a success. And you’ll do great at that job.”

Hange snickers in an attempt to lighten up the mood, to distract Levi from her unease. “Sounds like you just want to get rid of me.”

“It’s your decision,” Levi doesn’t deny, not confirm her comment. It sets Hange just a little further on edge. “What I want doesn’t matter whatsoever.”

His words sound familiar, strangely so, but Hange refuses to think about it any further. The words might sound like those from the lover boy’s letter, but the context is different. Levi and him are different. And whoever lover boy is devoted to, Hange is sure that she and that person are different too.

“I’m starving,” Levi stands up, a bit too abruptly, but Hange is too lost in her thoughts to take note of it. “Let’s steal some food from Mike.”

Hange smiles, grateful for the offer, and stands up to join Levi. “I saw Erwin bring yoghurt today.”

“We need to hurry then,” he grabs her hand, quickening her stride. “Otherwise Nanaba will steal it before we even have a chance.”

Hange laughs and eagerly follows after him.

***

When the article finally comes out, it turns out to be a glaring success. Both newspapers gain new audience, a number of newcomers bigger than Erwin had anticipated.

Everyone is happy and proud of Hange accomplishment. No one is surprised at her success.

Mike, Nanaba and Moblit all but run into her office, interrupting each other in their haste to congratulate her.

Levi is the last one to approach her. He wears an unusually open, almost happy expression.

“Told you’d do great,” he murmurs.

Hange knows she shouldn’t do it, knows that Levi won’t enjoy it, his aversion to invasion of his personal space is proverbial, but… Hange accomplished a lot, right? She deserves a little celebratory gift.

With that in mind, she shortens the distance between them and goes in for the tightest, squishiest hug she had in a while.

Levi grunts his protest, but doesn’t object further. In a move that sets Hange’s heart ablaze, he wraps his arms around her too.

Hange likes hugs, receives lots of them – at parties, she often cuddles with Nanaba and Mike, sometimes falls asleep with Erwin holding her close, and Moblit always gets too clingy when he has a little too much to drink. She enjoys embracing her friends, but a hug from Levi – perhaps, Hange tries to reason, because it is such a rare occurrence – makes her brim with unbridled happiness.

***

After the short, but very much enjoyed celebratory hug, Hange invites her friends to get celebratory drinks.

The evening is great, it is filled with pleasant conversation and so much laughter that Hange’s stomach starts to ache from it. The evening is great, could have been perfect… if Hange could forget about the resignation letter that is hidden inside her desk’s drawer.

It is a little after midnight, when they leave the bar and call it a night. But while everyone else heads to their homes, Hange decides to come to the office.

Almost wistfully, she turns on the computer. The first thing she sees is the time and the date, displayed at the bottom of a screen, that tells her it’s the early hours of Wednesday.

The second thing she sees is a notification that Levi sent her a letter.

Right. It’s letters day. Perhaps, the last one for her.

Hange opens the mail, her eyes instantly searching for the familiar username. She doesn’t find it.

She goes through the whole archive again, this time much slower. Still nothing. Then – what if third time is a charm – she scrolls down to the bottom once more. And…

No luck.

It’s the first time in a while that Hange doesn’t receive a letter from the lover boy. It can be a good thing, she supposes. Maybe, the lover boy finally confessed and his beloved stayed with him. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t need her advices anymore. Or, maybe… Maybe, she left. That will explain the absence of the letter too.

It’s just a letter, from a total stranger at that, but Hange feels sad. Her eyes water as she stares at the computer screen.

She can’t help but wonder – did lover boy’s beloved know about his feelings? Did she decide to leave anyway? Or was she none the wiser about the extent of his affections towards her? If so, did she regret leaving him behind?

Would Hange herself regret leaving her job and friends?

She’s not sure. The worst thing about regret is that it doesn’t appear until after you’ve already done something.

Maybe, she will regret it, maybe, she won’t. The only way to find out is to keep moving forward.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, Hange takes the resignation letter out of the drawer.

***

When she breaks the news to Erwin, he is not at all surprised. He’s not even angry or disappointed, he doesn’t ask to reconsider. A part of Hange wishes he did. That would give her an excuse to stay.

His smile is sad, but at the same time it’s proud. He thanks Hange for three years of hard work and wishes her the best of luck.

“When you’ll get rich and famous,” he says as he wraps his arm around her. “Think of us sometimes, even if briefly.”

Hange’s answering laugh sounds more like a sob. “How could I ever forget all of you?”

Erwin chuckles and wipes away her tears. “You’re a star, Hange, don’t you ever doubt it.”

***

Her last day at work ends with Hange getting shit-faced at their favorite bar. Everyone else is just as drunk as she is – Nanaba refuses to let go of her arm, Mike keeps asking her to call him every day, and Moblit has already cried for three times.

The only semi-sober ones are Erwin, who has to show up to shareholders’ meeting tomorrow morning, and Levi, who is an abnormal human being that alcohol holds no power over.

In the end, he is the one tasked to bring Hange home.

For the entire of their ride to her apartment complex, Hange does her best to behave. She breaks down as soon as they get inside.

Apparently thinking that forcing her to shower would be too much of a bother, Levi leads her straight to the bedroom.

Hange doesn’t fight it, too exhausted to do so, but when Levi starts tucking her in, she grabs his wrist.

“Levi,” she says, and the amount of alcohol she consumed earlier makes it easier to not give a fuck that her voice sounds almost pleading. “Levi, what do you think about me leaving?”

Levi has said nothing on the topic throughout the whole evening. And, while he has given her a hint about his stance on it before, and it probably wouldn’t matter at all, since she is going to leave anyway, Hange still wants to know.

“I told you before,” he doesn’t pull his hand away from her grasp, if anything he moves a little closer, sitting at the edge of her bed. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” Hange assures. “To me, it matters.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Do you want me to stay?” she looks deep into his eyes, but be it the influence of alcohol or the absence of her glasses… she can’t read him at all. “If you really do, maybe—”

“No.” Levi cuts her off sharply. “No, Hange, there is no maybe. It’s your decision, and my feelings can’t become your reason.”

Again, the words are familiar, but Hange is drunk. Hange is filled with alcohol and conflicting emotions and lingering doubts. Besides, she’s too lost in the intense look inside Levi’s eyes to make sense of anything else.

“Good night,” Levi whispers, pressing his lips to her forehead in a feather light, achingly gentle kiss. “I hope you will be happy.”

He leaves just before Hange thinks of asking him to stay.

***

Hange swears to stay in touch with everyone at Sina’s Gossips, and she fully intends to keep that promise, but then— then the work gets in the way.

Her first week at Money Island is all but a blur. There is so much to do, so much to learn, and Hange gets lost in it almost immediately.

She stays in the office after hours, she works during weekends, every waking moment is essentially spent on trying to make sense of it all. The employees of Money Island help, which Hange is immensely grateful for, and she is no stranger to working after hours, but… what made her power through it before is not there anymore.

After two weeks she spends on her new job, Hange can’t deny it anymore – her new position is boring.

All these numbers, charts, net worth, stocks options, so on and so forth… it’s so dull and tiresome, it sucks all of Hange’s enthusiasm and inspiration.

That thrill, that excitement, it isn’t there anymore, there is no passion to fuel her, no purpose worth pursuing.

At least, her new colleagues are nice enough. However… Hange can’t help but compare them to her old ones.

Pieck is funny and kind, but not nearly as kind as Nanaba. Porco’s jokes, no matter what he thinks about them, aren’t as hilarious as Mike’s, and watching the development of his relationship with Pieck doesn’t give Hange the same thrill as Nanaba and Mike’s relationship did. Onyankopon is so polite, and he’s always ready to help, but he isn’t as endearingly awkward and cute as Moblit. Her new boss, Magath, isn’t half the man Erwin is. And Zeke… Zeke doesn’t even begin to compare with Levi.

Hange wants to like them, she really does, but all this work leaves little to no time to hang out with her friends, and their absence makes her more unwilling to connect with the new colleagues.

Out of sheer stubbornness, Hange continues working for another two weeks, hoping that maybe, with just enough time, she’ll get her spark back.

She is in the middle of writing another article, something about yet another failing company, when her phone pings, announcing a notification. Taking it a sign from above that she needs to take a break, Hange looks away from the computer screen and redirects her attention to the phone.

The notification announces a new letter, to her personal account. Intrigued, Hange opens it and almost squeals when she sees the username.

wings_of_freedom@gmail.com

Hange stares at it for a long, long moment. The letter isn’t redirected as it usually was, meaning… the lover boy knows her personal mail address, or…

The lover boy is someone she actually knows.

Not sure which one is more improbable, Hange opens the letter. It’s an unusually short one.

It’s been almost a month since she left. I still miss her every damn day. Do you have any advice how to stop it?

In that moment, everything clicks. Every coincidence and conjunction, every moment she felt like she could connect to the lover boy, every time his dilemma perfectly reflected her own. The fact that he knows her email address and the fact that he mentioned one month, precisely the amount of time that passed since she left Sina’s Gossips… there are too many seemingly random things that together create a clear enough picture.

Hange rereads the letter again, just to make sure that it’s real, just to make sure that she isn’t imagining it, that it isn’t wishful thinking.

It doesn’t seem like it is, Hange doesn’t believe it is, and a realization forces a surprised, happy laugh out of her throat.

It takes her but a moment to set her mind, and then, Hange closes the word document with an article, not bothering to save it. She opens another one right after that, and starts writing what will be another resignation letter, this time addressed to CEO of Money Island, Theo Magath. When she finishes, Hange opens powerpoint and proceeds to make a presentation that consists of almost eighty slides.

Perhaps, not her best work, but Hange is confident it will suffice.

She doesn’t bother waiting for Magath to come back from his meeting to give him a letter. She bumps into Zeke just as she exits the small office they gave her, and she thrusts the resignation letter into his hands before he can pull her into one of his endless, mostly one-sided conversation that serve mainly to stroke his ego.

When he takes a look at the letter, Zeke seems regretful, but— not at all surprised.

“I hoped you’d stay with us for a little longer…” he confesses with a slow shake of his head. “But I guess we can’t do what we don’t love.”

“I’m sorry,” Hange says, a small compensation.

“Don’t be,” Zeke waves her off, as easily and smoothly as he does everything else. “However, if you ever decide to go on a date with someone taller than a middle-schooler…”

Really, even Zeke knows? Is she that oblivious?

“You’ll be the first one to know,” Hange laughs, feeling lighter than she did in weeks.

Without wasting anymore time, Hange ducks into her office, grabs what little things she brought here and then rushes to small, not at all impressive, but so dearly loved building of Sina’s Gossips.

Just before entering, she stops and looks up at the front door. Finally… she feels at peace.

A moment is all she allows, before she walks inside.

Her first stop is Erwin’s office, where Hange plugs a USB and starts her presentation before Erwin can even ask what she’s doing here. It takes absolutely nothing to convince him to give her position back, but it does take the whole eighty slides to make him at the very least consider her new proposition – a new segment where Hange will be observing local news. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and a promising one at that.

“But I still need you to take care of the advice column,” Erwin warns just after he surrenders to Hange’s enthusiasm that slowly starts to come back to her. “Mike is quite terrible at it.”

“Consider it done, chief!” Hange exclaims with a quick salute.

Erwin smiles and stands up to embrace her. “Then, Hange Zoe, welcome back to Sina’s Gossips.”

Hange is smiling so much, she worries that her face might break.

After Erwin, she runs straight into Nanaba’s arms. As they embrace, Nanaba laughs, then cries, then laughs again.

“God, Hange, I’m so happy you came back,” she says, wiping her tears. “I was this close to dying of boredom.”

“You don’t know boredom until you’ve worked in finance, Nana.”

They laugh in unison, and Hange’s heart is full of affection, when Nanaba wetly kisses her cheek.

Just before stopping at Moblit’s desk, Hange heads to break room and is lucky enough to find Mike eating a sandwich there.

Hange steals it with a delighted laughter, instantly taking a huge bite.

“Never thought I’d miss someone stealing my food,” he shakes his head with a big smile. “But here we are, I guess. It’s good to have you back, Hans.”

At first, Moblit doesn’t actually believe she is real. He rubs his eyes and squints at her, tentatively touches her arm, gives her another once-over, and whatever he noticed – perhaps, it’s her mismatched socks – convinces him that he isn’t seeing things.

And then gathers her in his arms.

“They made me work with Levi,” he whispers into her shoulders. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

Hange laughs – she does it a lot today, compensating for that month she spent feeling sorry for herself – and pats Moblit’s shoulder.

“Speaking of our favorite shorty, where is he?”

“In his office, probably brooding as always. Since you left, he’s been doing it more often. ”

Hange thanks Moblit with a quick peck on his cheek, and then she is moving again, now heading to her final destination.

The inside of Levi’s office is dark, and awfully quiet. The only sound is the click-clack of the keyboard and the only light comes from the computer screen. It further highlights the dark circle under his eyes and the overall paleness of his face.

Hange clears her throat to get his attention.

Levi’s eyes snap to her, widening almost immediately. There is an ocean of questions, ready to spill from his lips, but Hange doesn’t give him a chance to voice any of them.

“So there is this guy, he’s been sending letters to me since forever. He’s so sweet, a true romantic, and, well, his letters were kinda the highlight of my week,” she pauses to take a quick breath, and continues. “And I’ve been rooting so hard for him, you know? I wanted him to get together with that sweetheart of his, but I also felt like she was kinda oblivious, if you get what I’m talking about. Perhaps, not completely blind, but with a vision poor enough to miss what is right in front of her. Or, perhaps, she always has her head up in the clouds and the guy is a little short, so it’s easy to miss him? And-”

“So you’ve figured it out then?” Levi interrupts her. His calmness makes Hange more nervous.

“I have.”

“Only now?”

“Yes.”

“Hm,” a ghost of a smile dances around his narrow lips. “Completely blind then.”

Hange huffs, but she can’t resist a smile of her own. She takes a step towards his desk, hopping right on top of it.

“Just so we’re clear,” she touches his forearm, slowly moving her hand up to his shoulder. “You weren’t my reason to leave, Levi. And you aren’t the reason I’m staying. But,” she leans in, hoping that Levi is not as stupid and she is, and he gets the hint that she wants him to lean closer too. “You’re the reason I decided to come back. And for that, I can’t thank you enough.”

Hange closes her eyes, when Levi gently cups her cheek. With bated breath, she waits to feel his lips on hers.

Her lover boy doesn’t disappoint, and the gentle, loving kiss makes her head spin.

After a short moment of bliss, Levi pulls away, and Hange has to forcefully stop herself from chasing after his lips. He smirks at the dazed look in her eyes, and Hange just has to retaliate.

She strokes the skin of his cheek with the most tender of touches, shortening the distance between them with tantalizingly slow speed. Just when they’re less than a breath apart, Hange whispers, in a quiet, endlessly soft voice, “You know, Levi, wings of freedom is a really stupid username.”

Levi pushes her off the desk for that, but it’s still worth it. Even more so, since he catches her right in his arms.

And then her lover boy kisses her again. And again, and again, until her heart is so full of love that she can’t even find it in her to get angry at Mike, who snaps a picture of them and runs away to tell everyone the news.

“They’ll be gossiping about that for weeks,” Levi grumbles.

Hange laughs, smoothing the crease between his eyebrows. “Well, it’s Sina’s Gossips we’re working at. And didn’t you know? Love for the gossip is the requirement to get a position here.”

[palettepainter]

Part of the family

Idk what Ecto’s birth name is so I’m going to have his parents/other characters refer to Ecto as Ekuto. It translates to ecto in Japanese, real creative but I’ll use it as his birth name till we get a cannon one confirmed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Higari scratched at the collar of his shirt, and then tugged uncomfortably at the waist of his trousers

“I’m really not used to wearing this monkey suit..” he said mostly to himself, looking down at his blazer he’d dusted off from his cupboard. Higari only owned one formal suit, and only ever wore it on rare occasions. Even after spending so many years teaching at UA and attending so many events or interviews, he’d never gotten used to all this fancy shmancy stuff.

“Well you look very handsome in one~” Ecto stood near by in the hotel room comparing bow ties, one hand on his hip and other on his chin. He too was also in a suit, the two both dressed up for a night out at a formal party event. The two had been invited as guests to a charity event by Ecto’s parents, who where two key supports of said event. Really they where attending as undercover security, so obviously they had to fit the part

Higari peered over to his husband, gave him a cheeky glance up and down before walking over. “You don’t look half bad yourself” he said with a lazed smirk, hand snaking it’s way over and around Ecto’s hips. Ecto hummed again him, raising one brow before he lifted up a red bow. “Hm..how about this one?” He asked

Higari shrugged “You know suits better then me, not like I got any clue which bow goes with what dress shirt”

“Oh stop it” Ectoplasm said, kneeling down to help tie the bow in place. With Higari’s altered finger tips it made things like tying bows all the more challenging, thankfully Ecto was skilled in the art and had the bow on Higari in a matter of seconds “You look wonderful!” he straightened out his blazer, and for good measure, nuzzled his nose on Higari’s forehead in the form of a kiss “Besides, it’s only for a few hours. When we get back you can change into something more comfortable”

“Or waddle around naked” Higari suggested, waiting eagerly to see Ecto’s reaction. Knowing it was oh so easy to get Ecto flustered

Ecto hummed, as if pretending to think it over, managing to remain calm before the corner of his mouth crinkled up into a smile “Hm..maybe~” Higari’s trade mark grin spread across his face with a giggle. Ecto tried to keep cool even if the face of his husbands adorable little laugh “But lets save that for after the party. I don’t want you causing mischief”

Higari hummed, humoured, sensing a challenge. Expertly he sauntered his way over and looped his arms around Ecto from behind, pressing his face into the small of Ecto’s back “Hm, are you calling me a bad boy?~”

Ecto turned as best he could to peer down at Higari, his brow cocked in amusement at his antics, struggling to keep a neutral tone despite how flustered he was actually feeling from Higari’s flirting - the sneaky mink “I won’t hesitate to put you in your place if that’s what you’re implying”

Ecto could tell Higari had one of those smiles on his face, but before Higari could say anymore Ecto pried his arms off him. Higari let out a small whine, disappointed the fun was over “However, we do have a charity event to get to” he said while releasing Higari’s hands, pulling on his blazer that he hung on the chair. Higari crossed his arms, hiding a pout behind his fringe “Mn, yeah I guess so..”

“Don’t whine” Ecto said, mocking a tone a mother would use with a child. “..It won’t be that bad” he reassured while looking himself over in the small mirror by the cupboard “They’ll be food and drinks, and all we have to do is mingle and be prepared if something calls for us to step in”

“Mm, yeah I guess” Higari said

He joined Ecto over at the door before the two walked out together into the hall. Higari had been to a few arguably fancy events, the fanciest it ever got at UA where interviews with the press outside UA grounds, or the UA prom for the third years, that was about it. Don’t get him wrong, Higari still preferred a pair of joggers to a suit and bow, but alas he’d signed up for this when he became a teacher at UA. As much as he didn’t like formal events, too crowded for his liking, they had to set a good example for UA

And going to a formal event with Ecto made it bearable.

Upon arriving at the venue the first thing he noticed was how bright everything was, didn’t help his sensitive eye sight. He tried to not let it bother him as he and Ecto stepped out of their car and made their way inside to a large main room where all the guests where gathered. Thank god Ecto was tall, at the very least he could navigate this maze, Higari couldn’t see over the top of all the other guests even if he tried! After checking in with the rest of the security and into the main hall Ecto grabbed for Higari’s hand

“Lets go and wait over at the side” Ecto said, already making his way through the crowd with Higari on his tail towards the side of the room, where the two where somehow able to find an unoccupied table in the sea of people. “Didn’t think it’d be this busy” Higari said while observing the room, he couldn’t help but feel a little weird - being in such a decorated room with all these fancy rich people.

“Me too” Ecto said, returning to the table with two wine glasses. “Regardless, we should try and enjoy ourselves” he handed Higari a glass, which he accepted with a small nod of thanks. He swigged it down in a swift gulp, Ecto blinked, taken a back. “Careful there..” he teased, drinking lightly from his own glass. “Sorry Ecto” Higari said, placing his glass back down onto the table “Big events like this always make me nervous..” he admitted, if it was anyone else other then Ecto he wouldn’t have shared such a personal fear

“It’s alright, just remember it’s only for a few hours. And if nothing goes wrong we may be allowed to leave early”

Higari hummed in reply, one hand tapping on the table while he idly glanced about the room, trying to see if their was anything else in here other then a crowd of bustling people. With his hair brushed aside it made seeing things a bit more easier, which is why it didn’t take him long to recognise an approaching face in the crowd.

“Angel!” Mrs. Kurōn, Ecto’s mother, happily emerged from the crowd and rushed over as quickly as she could towards the table, Ecto already standing from his chair to greet her. “Oh I’m so happy you two could make it!” She said, greeting Ecto with a quick hug before she looked to Higari “It’s so nice to see some familiar family faces! - and Higari, it’s lovely to see you could make it too dear!”

“Evening Mrs. Kurōn” Higari said, waving his hand. Despite having already met Ecto’s parents he was still a little shy around them, maybe it was added nervousness of the fancy party making him feel particular shy, he wasn’t sure.

“Where’s dad?” Ecto asked, looking around to try and identify his other parent “I haven’t see him yet, he’s not with you?”

“Your father is catching up with some old work colleagues” Mrs. Kurōn answered while she straighten out Ecto’s tie, smiling at the dorky spotty pattern he’d chosen. “I doubt he’ll be too long” she said “He’s a social butterfly, I’m sure you’ll bump into him at some point - you remember Mister Zeikin?”

Ecto thought for a moment before his eyes widened with realisation “Yes I remember, didnt dad say he was one of his old team members before you and him married? He came round for dinner a few times”

His mother nodded “Yes he was, he’s the one who helped organise the decorating for this event. Oh! And you remember Megumi? She’s here too!”

“Megumi?..” Ecto repeated, thinking once again before he smiled “I haven’t seen her since..god it must have been at our prom party at UA” he said, my how time flied. Higari looked to and from between them, not understanding who they where talking about but obviously seeing that Ecto must have clearly known of them “Seems like centuries ago doesn’t it? I still have those prom photos laying about somewhere at home” Mrs. Kurōn suddenly gasped, and put a hand on Ecto’s shoulder “Why don’t we go over and see them? You two where good friends back at UA, I’m sure she’d be very surprised to see you again!”

“Hm..well, mum-“ Ecto looked back towards Higari, who sensing Ecto’s worries raised his hand “Don’t worry about me, you can leave me alone for ten minutes” Higari smiled and gestured away “Go mingle, tell Mr. Kurōn I said hi”

“Are you sure?” Ecto repeated, clearly not convinced. “You could always come with us” Higari again simply repeated his gesture “I’ll be fine! I’m a grown man, don’t worry. Sides-“ he shrugged “I don’t her, I wouldn’t know what to say. I’d just be awkward”

“Hm..” Ecto threw a glance over his shoulder to the crowd and then to his mother, who smiled wider. He hummed again “..Well” his worry melted away, a relieved smile coming to his face “Alright then!” He turned around, his mother leading the way “I won’t be long!” He called to Higari just as they got swept up into the crowd. Higari waved goodbye until Ecto and Mrs. Kurōn was out of sight, guess it was just him now.

Thirty minutes passed, and Higari restrained himself from glancing down to his watch again.

“Hm..Ecto’s been gone a while” he said to the empty table, one hand holding his face while the other fiddled with the salad fork. Busying himself with tinkering away at one of his inventions was off the table with the current location he was in, he figured it wouldn’t be very ‘proper’ of him to suddenly start rebuilding a toaster in front of all these guests. Not like he needed to give them a reason to stare. “Maybe I’ll see what there is to eat” he suggested, sliding off his chair as he tried to locate the food table.

These kinds of parties always had the weirdest foods, and always in such small servings, Higari could never wrap his head around it. He’d hoped there’d be something at this food table that would satisfy his hunger until they could back to the hotel room, where he’d already decided he’d order the most greasiest take out junk food if this party food ended up being like all the rest. Reaching the table he was glad he kept his expectations low, as expected all the food was tiny, bowls of expertly prepared salads, a board full to the brim with cheeses, beautiful made sushi pieces, rice cakes - nothing he hadn’t seen before at fancy events.

Thinking it was better then nothing he picked up a plate and two rice cakes “Guess this’ll do” he muttered, and tried to make his way back towards his table...key word being try. Trying to navigate his way back from point B to A was harder then he thought, finding a needle in a hay stack seemed easier then this! With a snort he gave up on his mission, and instead made himself comfy on one of the balconies overlooking the venues garden, which was also lighted and decorated appropriately to match with the main hall.

He picked up a rice cake and munched into it, blinking slowly - god this was boring. At this rate he was starting to wish something would happen that required security to step in, at least that would give him something to do..

“Excuse me?”

Higari hummed, mouth full of rice cake as he turned to the owner of a voice. A fairly sizeable man stood at the entrance back inside the building, his shirt looked just a bit too tight over the skin of his stomach, his eyes looked at Higari with a somewhat studying look. It made Higari feel fidgety. He quickly swallowed his mouthful, trying to discreetly wipe his mouth to get rid of any rice that stuck onto his face “Uh, did you need something?” He asked, turning back up to the man who approached with a hum

“By chance are you..Higari?”

Higari rose a suspicious brow under his hair but tried to keep his suspicion hidden “Yes” he answered. The man stood next to Higari with a look he couldn’t place his finger on, there was something about it he didn’t like. It made a sickly familiar feeling of worry present inside him. His lips where pulled back into a smile, at least, Higari thought it was a smile - despite how it gave him the unfortunate impression that it was forced “Hm, my I didn’t think I’d get to see the man himself..” the man peered down at Higari for a long moment, as though he was a specimen under a microscope, it made Higari shudder

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know you..”

“I’m Mister Zeikin” the man seemed to puff out his chest, as if to symbolise his importance or his name was a grand title. Zeikin? That name sounded familiar “Hm..Oh yeah” Higari nodded lightly “Ecto’s m-Uh..Mrs Kurōn told me you where talking with her husband” the man nodded, turning his gaze to the horizon, one hand lightly swirling the wine in his glass. “Hm yes yes, my dear friend Akarui, known to you as Mr Kurōn, mentioned you when his wife and son came over.” He took an unhurried sip of his drink, eyes admiring his glass once he was finished “And I just had to see if his words held true”

Higari still didn’t understand, but the man was soon turning back to look at him before he could remain confused for much longer “Well done, Higari. You truly are a fascinating man” he praised warmly “So very charming from what I hear of, and sweeping Ekuto off his feet. Lucky him indeed”

Higari felt surprisingly flattered at the praise, growing sheepish at this flood of compliments. He awkwardly rubbed at his neck, smiling regardless “...Well, thank you.”

“But of course!” Zeikin pressed “Its astonishingly brave that you can be so open with displaying such affections..” His gaze slowly returned to Higari, his eyes lingering on him, a glint in his eye. “...Well, all things considered”

Higari bristled, though the man was still smiling, Higari felt attacked at the way he’d worded his sentence. His eyes narrowed “..Whats that supposed to mean?” He asked, leaning his head back to peer up at him.

Zeikin took another slow sip from his drink, smooth and slow as though Higari’s suspicion wasn’t noticeable. He had an air of confidence around him, as he turned back down to Higari “My fine fellow I mean no ill will. I’m sure you are a very...adorable lover” he offered politely “I just can’t help but think about the insecurities that come with the role”

“...Insecurities??” Higari blinked, his cheeks heating up “Theres nothing about our relationship that-“

“You’re from country aren’t you?” That cursed smile finally dropped, his tone all of a sudden flat “It leads a man to wonder just how it is Akarui’s son ever settled for..” Higari didn’t like the look he was giving him, regarding him with the same interest someone may give a piece of gum on the sidewalk “..someone so inferior”

“I...” Higari tried to bite back his temper, he’d hate himself if he lost his temper at an event that was so important to Ecto’s parents. He’d never forgive himself. He tried to take a calming breath, tried to think of happy things, but his insecurities - insecurities this man had targeted - they began to mock him, making his anger rise more. “That’s not any of your business sir” Higari tried to say without growling

“Ah, but it is” the man insisted with detached happiness, as though he was talking with a child. Higari stiffened “You see, Akarui and his family are dearly close to me, despite his.. imbecility” he casted a side ways scowl off into the distance “I would simply hate for something to taint their families image. Wouldn’t you agree?” He looked back down to Higari, who remained frozen, not seeming able to move, his legs not responding to his mind telling him to just walk away. Turn around and walk away! But he couldn’t, he felt offended, how dare he even think Ecto would view him that way!

Ecto would never!...r-right?..

“Ecto would never think of me that way” Higari was now furious, and it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his cool

“Oh well of course he wouldn’t” Zeikin held up his hand, trying to appear passive, and fixing Higari with a look that dropped with artificial sympathy “The dear Kurōn family are far too polite to ever show such disbain openly.”

“...I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about” Higari managed to conjure words despite still being paralysed, face hot, eyes shiny. “They wouldn’t-..” he corrected himself “Don’t think of me that way”

“Hm, perhaps” Zeikin nodded, peering skyward, not meeting Higari’s eyes. “Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps my years of knowledge through being their work colleague and associate do not mean a thing at all to you, perhaps the idea they may look at you differently is so foreign to you. You play the role very well, I commend you!” He gestured towards Higari with a titled head “Dressing up in that fancy suit, attending a formal gathering such as this, all for an attempt to fit in with a crowd not meant to house someone of your background. Yet, you try anyway. How very brave of you”

Higari’s throat suddenly felt tight, eyes stinging as tears swelled in the corners “Are you...mocking me?” His voice was shaky, something fragile behind the front he tried to put up.

“Heavens no” he looked offended at Higari’s weak question, scoffing “Conformity happens with everyone, I just find...amusement in your particular case.” He smiled, teeth an all, eyes narrowed cruelly at Higari, who looked timid. “To think you ever thought someone like you would ever be accepted.”

Higari stumbled back a foot, breathing going funny as he desperately tried to think of a response-

“I do hope we aren’t interrupting anything important.”

Higari startled, almost falling over his own feet. Behind him, standing less then three feet away was Akarui, Ectoplasms father. Brows creased like gathering thunder heads, mouth pressed into a thin frown with his arms crossed, not looking impressed. Behind him just off of the balcony, just looking to have caught up, was Ecto and Mrs Kurōn. At the sight of Ecto Higari flinched, curling up and looking away. Akarui’s look softened, concerned, before he fixed the business man across from his with a withering glare.

“I do hope you have a good explanation for this, Zeikin.” His eyes narrowed “For your sake.”

The man looked to do a double take, blinking “Ah, Akarui” his calm facade still held, but it was obvious the man standing behind Higari was not falling for it, cocking a bold brow. “So..wonderful you could join us” he smiled, walking closer. Akarui stepped forward without hesitation to shield Higari from view with his taller stature. Higari glanced up to him in confusion, blinking back tears

“We where simply having a talk amongst men” He assured, but Akarui’s frown only deepened. “It didn’t soundthat way” he stated, not subtly at all. Zeikin looked to him as though he’d been slapped, as Ecto and Mrs Kurōn hurried their way over.

“Higari? Are you okay?” Ecto asked, crouching down slightly to be at eye level with Higari, sensing almost instantly that something was wrong. Higari flinched away when Ecto reached for him, and he felt guilty immediately after. “Higari?..” Ecto said quietly, his hand lowering

Zeikin offered his colleague a grin, one that looked too wide “Whatever are you talking about Akarui?” He glanced down to Higari who Akarui stood in front of, he shot Zeikin a warning glare while Higari tried to hide himself from the mans sight. “It was but a simple conversation, a time for me to air some..thoughts on your..” Zeikin looked to be struggling to find the right words, everyone’s eyes (minus Higari’s) all on him.

“..new acquaintance-“

Slap

Akarui slapped away the others hand that was gesturing to Higari, eyes boring into him with a look that could kill. Zeikin baffled, pulling his hand back to him while fixing Akarui with a scowl. “I will have you know, that acquaintance you are referring to, has a name.” Zeikin opened his mouth to repomand Akarui for daring to hithim, but Akarui beat him to the punch, not giving him time to find his words.

“And he, Higari, happens to be my sons romantic other, and my son in law” he said sternly, loosing patience, what little of it had left for the fat cat before him.

Zeikin looked caught off guard, not expecting that kind of powerful reply from his work partner. He rose an unimpressed brow, fixing him with an equally icy look, Akarui failed to cower even as Zeikin took a step closer. “How very noble of you Akarui. Always playing the role of hero infront of your son aren’t you” he whispered, Akarui growled, a warning. “Can’t help but want to defend those who feel..out of place-“

Ecto had heard clearly what had been said, his mother gasping quietly. Ecto sneered, and leapt to speak-

“Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough.” Akarui stated calmly, closing his eyes “Allow me to say this once. Nicely.”

White, powerful light suddenly burst from Akauri’s eyes, like the birth of a new star. His eyes glowed hot with the heat of the sun, the light pouring from his eyes startling Zeikin, his own scared reflection staring back at him from Akauri’s empty white eyes. “My sons happiness, means everything to me and my wife. If you ever dare to try and intervene with that again, or try to approach Higari again..” he narrowed his eyes, his eyes glowing brighter, making him appear imposing, powerful. Eventually, Zeikin looked away, accepting defeat “You will be answering to me.”

Akarui blinked, and the light vanished, his cold merciless glare remaining as he fixed Zeikin with another deep frown “Do I make myself clear?”

“....Crystal.”

“Good” Akarui said, his tone to the point. “...I think it’d be better if you took your leave Zeikin” Akarui stepped aside and tilted his head over towards the entrance back inside the building.

Zeikin looked stuck, refusing to admit his loss, he straightened his tie and stood up straight - pretending as though his scare mere minutes ago hadn’t happened “Hm..Yes, maybe I will.” He dusted off his arm, acting aloof “Company in the main hall will be far better then wi-“

“No” Mrs Kurōn, who had remained quite until now fixed the man with her own scowl, Ecto doing the same with his arms wrapped around Higari. “We think you should leave” she repeated. Even Higari was taken aback by her sudden shift in tone, not knowing the gentle women could be capable of sounding angry. Zeikin gawked, working his jaw and looking rapidly between the two, waiting for one of them to admit it was a joke.

“...Hurry along” Akarui said, tilting his head again towards the building, not flinching even as Zeikin got dangerously close to his face to glare at him. Akarui remained standing where he was, before Zeikin, with a small snort, hurried off back inside and out of sight

Akarui let out a breath, shoulders slumping.

“Higari are you okay?” Ecto’s hands cupped Higari’s cheeks, noticing how his eyes looked teary, his worry grew ten fold at the sight as his heart plummeted at seeing him so sad “He didn’t try anything did he?” Ecto shook his head “I shouldn’t have left you alone!..”

“N-No no!” Higari waved his hands, taking Ecto’s hands away from his face as he tried to desperately rid the tears that where close to pouring down his cheeks. “I’m- I-I’m fine, he just..don’t worry about it” Ecto didn’t look convinced, nor did his mother, who’s eyes widened when she caught sight of a single tear falling down his face. “Oh honey..” she quickly pulled a tissue out of her small bag and held it out to him, just as Higari sniffled, the dams beginning to break.

“Come on” Ecto gently held Higari’s hand, the feeling of something familiar, something tender and soft helped calm his racing heart beat. He accepted the tissue, drying his eyes, overcome with embarrassment at being seen crying of all things - he’d only ever cried in front of Ecto and his family back in the country. “Let’s head back inside” Ecto stood and began to guide Higari back towards the building “No point in staying out in the cold”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour had passed, Higari was now a little calmer.

He currently sat in the buildings parking lot, having some air, he needed to have a moment to himself to calm down and gather his thoughts. He felt ashamed, feeling to need to walk out of the party to properly calm down. Ecto and his mother had both been understanding aside from their worry, offering to come and keep him company - which he’d politely declined.

And though quite it was around him in the car park, his mind was screaming.

The mans words refused to leave him, and he hated it. He hated how right he was! he hated how out of place he felt just being near a place so fancy and posh, he hated how that small self conscious part of him constantly felt the need to prove his worth when around Ecto’s family, to prove he was more then just some..grungy looking engineer

“Higari?”

Higari pulled his head from his hands and peered up to the side “..Mister Kurōn?” Mr Kurōn walked over to him but kept some space between them for Higari’s sake “I’m sorry, would you mind if I had a word?” He asked, pointing to the space on the edge of the pathway Higari was sitting on. Higari blinked “Uh, sure?” He said

Smiling Mr Kurōn took a place on the floor next to him, arms propped up behind him as he peered up into the sky, as if looking for stars. Higari gave him a sideways glance, before slowly looking away, tensing up, he really hoped he hadn’t come to talk about what had happened

“...How..” Higari nervously cracked his fingers, an old habit he’d developed since he was at UA. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened, but there was one thing he wanted to know “...How much did you hear?..”

“...Enough..”

Higari chewed his gum, all of sudden very interested in the floor as he avoided making eye contact with the older man.

“Higari?” Mr Kurōn was the first to break the silence, finally turning to Higari “May I ask you a..personal question?” He asked, watching Higari’s reaction carefully to make sure he didn’t step on a nerve. Higari turned to him, raising a brow “...Okay?” He said, slightly unsure

Mr Kurōn hummed, looking away again “...I don’t think there’s any way I can put this lightly” he admitted, Higari felt nervous at that. Mr Kurōn turned back to Higari and narrowed his eyes just a tiny bit, trying to read Higari as though he was a book. Higari felt his shoulders tense, after what had happened he’d been put off curious or studying gazes, and probably would be put of them for a while-

“Are you scared of me?”

Higari’s brain buffered, not quite understanding the question at first. Mr Kurōn said nothing, not removing his eyes from Higari as he waited for an answer. “.....Uh, well-“ Higari scratched at his neck “I don’t think- I...I wouldn’t say scared..” Higari admitted quietly, hand moving to tug at some strands of hair “I just..Uh..Well, I wanna make sure I don’t..” Higari’s tone became close to a mumble, yet Mr Kurōn continued to be patient “I just...really don’t want you two to be disappointed, I guess. I mean-..I don’t know the first thing about all...this” he gestured to his suit “I can’t make heads or tails or fancy of cocktails or caviar! A work bench and tools, a construction sight and mapping out underground tunnels, machine parts and dirty oil rags- those things I get!”

Higari had only opened up his worries about Ecto’s parents to Ecto himself, but before he knew was what happening, his worries where spilling from his mouth before he could stop them.

“And when I found you’d sent me an invite to this event too, I was...I didn’t want you to be..” Higari looked ashamed to even finish his sentence, and sheepishly turned his head away from Mr Kurōn to try and hide from his gaze “E-Embarressed by me..what that guy, Uh, Zeikin said. I..I hate to admit it but, most of what he said, ‘bout me being...insecure...most of it, held..some truth”

After he was finished there was a lengthy silence, then Mr Kurōn hummed, Higari tugged harder at his hair “.....Ekuto, he always tells us how happy you make him” he smiled, peering off at nothing before he smiled down at Higari “In school, at UA, I don’t think he had many friends” he said, shrugging “He didn’t really talk about it much with me and his mother, he always assured he had friends but, never wanted them round....Then you came along!” His smile widened, the light seeming to come back to his face “You where the first person from school that seemed to have changed him for the better! He was always so happy when he came back from school each day, after spending it with the mysterious friend he had”

Another pause

“...Do you make Ekuto happy?” He asked, looking to Higari.

Higari wasn’t sure if this was a trick question, so answered with a nervous “I...I like to think I do”

“You think?” Mr Kurōn titled his head “Or you know?”

“....I know” Higari said “...I really want to make Ecto happy, I try to keep him happy!”

Mr Kurōn seemed pleased with that answer “Then why would we want you to be some else?” He asked, leaning forward.

Higari’s eyes widened, his eyes darting up to him to see if what he had said was genuine. Mr Kurōn held nothing but honesty on his face, no trace of a facade or act anywhere, just..a genuine smile

he rose his brow at Higari, as if his thought on the matter should have been obvious.

“..I-I..” Higari tripped over his words, stuttering like a fool “I-I-..I-Uh..T-That’s-“

“You have nothing to prove Higari” Mr Kurōn insisted, saying the words he knew Higari needed to hear - and probably wanted to hear for a long time. He placed his hand on Higari’s shoulder, giving him a friendly shake “You are very easily likeable!”

If Higari’s eyes had been wide before, now they had shot open to the size of plates. Turquoise pupils staring at Mr Kurōn in shock, mouth hung open in a small o shape, causing Mr Kurōn to chuckle a little. Higari’s mouth snapped shut, realising he must have been gawking in his surprise. “Uhm-that’s-“ Higari turned away, feeling embarrassed, praying it wasn’t as obvious as if felt “T-Thank you..”

“You’re welcome”

Me Kurōn stood to his feet, stretching his arms out above his head before they flopped to his side, hands resting in his pockets “Hm..I think I’ve had enough of parties for one evening” He stated, looking down to Higari who craned his neck just to peer up at him. “Why don’t we all go out, get some proper food - my treat!” He said “...It’s the least I could do to make up for what happened. I can assure you, Zeikin will not be hosting business with us any time soon”

He offered out a hand “Come on, let’s not hang around in the cold. Besides-“ he looked back in the direction of the building “Ecto is starting to get worried, I’m sure you know at this point how he can be when worried”

....Higari chuckled, letting Mr Kurōn help pull him to his feet “Yeah” he said with a nod “He can be a bit of a worry wort” he admitted with a laugh, Mr Kurōn joining in lightly.

One meal later and drinks down at a small pub and Higari was feeling more like himself, the way he’d always tense up when Ecto’s parents so much as looked his way vanished entirely, for the whole evening he seemed to forget all about trying to uphold a certain image in front of them. He’d had a drink, he’d ordered what he wanted, he’d taken off his bow and untucked his shirt - and he’d had fun!

He and Ecto returned to the hotel room, and flopped back tiredly onto the hotel bed in sync “Well..” Ecto said, eyes on the ceiling “That was...something” he said. Higari hummed, eyes closed behind his frazzled hair, he’d given up trying to keep it neat once they’d all gone out for food. Shyly, Ecto peered down to his partner, nagging guilt knawing at his consciousness “Higari I...I’m so sorry about what ha-“

He was silenced when Higari had lazily shuffled his way up the bed and smashed a kiss confidently to Ecto’s lips. Half of Ecto’s next words where muffled into the kiss, body jolting on the bed before he kissed back. Higari pulled away, leaving Ecto wide eyed, red faced and panting

“Ecto...” Higari let himself become comfy on top of Ecto’s chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck as he let out a sigh “I’m fine, really” he said “You don’t have to worry about me all the time..” he reassured, still half sprawled ontop of him while Ecto peered to him “B-But-“

Higari gently pressed a finger to Ecto’s mouth “Shhhh..” he gently shushed him, his eyelids feeling heavy as his body registered how tired he was from the night out “We’re good Ecto, I’m good, you’re parents are good..” he slowly slid off Ecto’s chest, curling up into his side like a puppy, his body unconsciously seeking out Ecto’s warmth “In fact, despite what happened..” Higari smiled up at his boyfriend “...I really enjoyed tonight!”

Ecto blinked, not used to seeing Higari act so soft, but a tender smile soon took its place on his face “...I’m glad” his hand moved to Higari’s hair, sweeping aside his fringe to peer down into Higari’s half lidded sleepy eyes. He pressed another one of his kisses to Higari’s cheek, his heart jumping in his chest at the giggle Higari let out

He pressed another kiss to Higari’s other cheek, Higari let out a snicker.

Ecto pressed one of his kisses to Higari’s nose, Higari bit his lip to try and stifle his laughter.

Ecto then moved to Higari’s neck, where he knew he was terribly sensitive. So when he nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, Higari let out an honest god squeal from shock - Ecto could hardly contain himself as he chuckled, before counting his nuzzling assault on his small husband who cackled and tried to escape Ecto’s death trap hug “Ectooo!~”

Maybe people like Zeikin would have his opinions, no questions there: but you know what, if Ecto and his parents loved him the way he was

Why should he care anyway??

[cakeandpi]

Parker!! spoilers abound

hm, so Harry (aka Lawyer) has been fired/let go and no one gave him the memo on it. Is his old job/boss going to be this episodes mark?

oof, Harry is bad at being subtle with his ‘okay look in [place]’ comm directions

ah okay so isn’t a legal firm that’s about representing their clients to the best of their ability. it’s a firm whose about smoothing bad things over for rich clients so that there’s little to no consequences.

“I remember when you wanted to change the world.”/“World did change. We just went along for the ride.” So the world changed the boss, the boss gave up on changing the world because he saw a way to profit from it and didn’t care that he hurt others along the way.

The way that car drove up onto the curve, I thought that was Sophie in a big hurry at first. (I would have thought Parker but there wasn’t enough time for her to crack the safe, get to the relevant files, get out, and then drive there.) But no, it’s Maxwell’s thugs because the man holds a grudge apparently. So I’m going to guess he’s going to be the season big bad? Or is he just a 2-episode bad guy and we’ll find out who the real big bad is later?

Hardison: listing various problems on various international efforts he’s helping with Eliot: let’s make this a restaurant metaphor Hardison: *very much regretting ever buying Eliot that brewpub*

Nuts and bolts about bad guy details

Also that bit about Hardison being distracted by problems is definitely a distraction, there’s no way he’d pause on making sure their safehouse was secure

Eliot is not so much pissed as insulted that the world is at the point of advertising the corruption rather than him needing to beat it out of someone.

drone!!

*snort* eliot's usually the grouchy one, and he’s carrying a trashcan right now. there’s no way hardison doesn’t make some oscar the grouch joke once he sees that.

“It’s like you never stopped.”/“Yeah. Quite the act.” Sophie slows down at Hardison’s comment, then sighs and sits. She’s finding this tiring now. Is it because she’s out of practice? Or because after so many years of retirement, her hearts not in it anymore? And Hardison notices. He doesn’t say anything concrete immediately, because Sophie hasn’t really elaborated on what’s going on with her. When she does - it’s her grief, and how its affecting her grift now - there’s this concern in Hardison’s face. There’s absolutely going to be a meeting between the OT3 about how to straddle not straining Sophie too much and not babying her should she stay on for another job after this.

“But I can’t work forever, can I?” There’s a defeated tone to this, and it’s true - Sophie’s just human, one day she too will pass on. Her grief for Nate (and how being back with the team keeps reopening that wound) is coloring her view on this for sure. (Did Nate work himself to death?) It’s also, very distantly, a remark on the OT3 - they too can’t work forever. They were Sophie’s and Nate’s proteges. And it’s not that the OT3 doesn’t have anything in place if they go down - they’ve got small teams running all over the world. But they don’t have their own personal proteges. Harry’s a decent start, but they’ll need to recruit and open up their circle to at least one, maybe two more before they’re ready to retire. Before they, too, burn too hot for too long.

“You hear that? That’s a very distinctive sound.” YES

Another Basil & Brick truck! This one has.... empanadas, ropa vieja, sancocho, and I think the last one is yuca frita. Mm, yuca fries.

BREANNA!!!

Parker! Taught Breanna to tail people! (Hardison in particular?) When she was 11! Wait does that mean Parker’s met Nana?! Also Parker is so smug and satisfied that Breanna paid attention to her lessons.

“I teach every kid I meet how to do crime.” <3 be gay do crime

This is a big ‘I’m telling mom!’ argument and I love it, especially the “I think she’s napping” LMAO

“How you saved Eliot’s life all those times” Oh man Hardison is sleeping on the metaphorical couch tonight. But also I need to come back to this later because honestly and really? Hardison has - as part of a group team effort - saved Eliot’s life from himself. By giving him a way to work through his anger issues, by caring for him, by showing Eliot he’s needed and that he’s more than just a hitter. The team saved Eliot’s life. (And there’s probably a bunch of erasing digital trails/etc where Hardison did more directly save Eliot’s life but that's besides the point.)

“But hacking’s kind of old school anyway.” And as she goes on, Eliot goes from aggrieved to ‘oh, a new best friend’ because now he has someone to help him annoy Hardison.

Parker pulls Hardison into a side room (by his ear, but he’s not protesting in pain so that’s got to be just for show). And then pushes him up against the wall and Hardison is like ‘okay whatever lecture is coming can it not be like this?’ If it weren’t for the glass walls that’d be some makeout stuff right here.

LOL at Parker’s standard for a ‘normal’ person being ‘uses Uber, pays taxes, and has a birth certificate’.

“Wait is this like that time in Paris?” I... don’t remember an episode set in Paris with a robot and explosions so this must be during the time skip. And - “... but you didn’t want to hurt Eliot’s feelings so you secretly wanted us to agree.” I’m going to scream if there’s no confirmed ot3 by the end of the season. And cry. And read a whole bunch of fic.

Look at these two being honest with each and communicating and respecting each others opinions, they’ve grown so much from pretzel metaphors.

“You’re not mad. You did the Picard tug.”/“I am mad.“/“Did the tug. You know I like that.” Parker might be mad (at Hardison? Breanna? Both?) but not so much that she’s completely shutting out Hardison, giving him a nonverbal signal that she’s not pissed, just needs some time to be upset before everything’s okay.

“One. Job.” Parker says. And we the viewers know it’ll be more than one. But really what that means by now is that this is an audition. Parker may have taught Breanna some things, but now Breanna has to show that they do better with her rather than without, that she’s an asset and not a liability or dead weight.

I laughed so hard that because this shit’s illegal, there’s no cutting corners on the paperwork.

“And you didn’t get tortured.”/“Not this time.” I can’t tell if Eliot wants Harry to get a little bit tortured or if he’s just reminding Harry that this time around people were in a good mood and showing off.

Breanna stops herself before suggesting something, and Hardison, for all that he isn’t delighted at her presence and protested her being here, encourages her to speak up. If she’s going to be part of the team, even for one job, she’s part of the team and that means speaking up and throwing ideas out there for others to bounce around, even if it winds up being a football that can’t be dribbled.

OT3 TEAM JUST GOT DUBBED ‘DRILL TEAM’. (why is that also somehow a dirty joke i’m dying here)

Oh one of the baddies is a Com4r4t fan... oh wait no this is the beginning of a plan backfiring.

Aww Breanna is so proud of what she’s done! It’s very much like season 1 Hardison. So Sophie and Hardison go to do their own thing, only that means the baddies are here to talk to Breanna and she doesn’t have backup.

THE 'LET ME GET MY BOSS’ THE SPIN AROUND AND THE ‘WHY ARE YOU BOTHERING MY STAFF’ I LOVE BREANNA.

“I’m your neighbor who runs a business built on discretion.” This is going to go very badly depending on how Breanna plays this. At least she gets the earbud in to call for help!

Another Brick&Basil truck! Etoufee and jambalaya, dammit eliot stop choosing delicious food to advertise. 

“I monkey-shamed the DJ” I. Love. Her. Also Sophie’s already read Breanna as having the skills to just need general guidelines for an impromptu grift rather than needing to be fed specific lines.

“Okay here’s the thing.” And there’s a pause, we’re thinking he’s about to come down real hard on Breanna, and then we get “I love Com4r4t.” he is a fanboy I guessed it right!! And then he does go through with the threat, but not as a ‘cancel it or die’ sort of threat, but a ‘if i’m disappointed you die’ way.

Breanna nails the impromptu grift though she’s understandably a bit shaken by the threat at the end. (What newcomer wouldn’t be?) But the threat is what pushes Parker into deciding Breanna should go home ASAP. This is Hardison’s family, from before the team, and Parker isn’t about to risk messing that up. If she pushes for Breanna to stay when Hardison doesn’t want Breanna to, and something goes wrong? Parker would never, ever forgive herself.

But as Sophie has pointed out, they’ve all been out of their depth at one point or another. That doesn’t mean that someone should be sent packing.

Lmao Eliot being possessive of the drill.

“Then you ain’t got no more problems ever again.” There’s a certain sense of morbid humor with the team, one that’s both necessary but also a reality. They deal with this level of danger on a semi-regular basis. Harry just hasn’t caught up to that fact yet.

I have a feeling this particular baddie is going to end up dead for managing to drive a 40% cut.

“I’m just saying dude.” I love that Eliot and Hardison don’t have to rehash their entire arguments anymore unless they’re really enjoying themselves, that they can just be all ‘you know I’ve said my piece’.

“Don’t get distracted by the side gig.”/“Is it a side gig?” For all that the team has been their main focus for so long, for all that they all have side projects and gigs, this has been eating up more and more of Hardison’s time. What I thought was him pretending to be distracted earlier may have been a real distraction. And Eliot’s noticed, and he’s noticed that Hardison hasn’t noticed, that Hardison needs to make a choice here.

“In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work you’re the only one, man.” Eliot has a soft smile at the end of that, and it's a bit painful, even as I saw it coming, to hear Eliot suggest that Hardison begin to step away from the team’s day to day.

“It’s okay to grow up, to realize you’re not the person you used to be.” None of them are the person they used to be. Not Sophie, not Parker, not Hardison, and certainly not Eliot. They can see that in each other if not in themselves. (Eliot, being the most grounded of all of them, already knew he’d changed eight years ago.)

“You never grew up.”/“Yeah. I achieved perfection pretty early, huh?” Even as Eliot’s the most grounded, even though he’s the one saying that there’s no one else that could fill Hardison’s role in that other work, the idea that Hardison might actually choose to step away from the team is too raw to handle without turning to humor.

Harry’s a bit jumpy, but he’s learning to play it off. I like that he’s a very different character from Nate, that it’s not his anger or ego driving him so much as a desire to make restitution.

And a “Dammit Hardison”

Ooh, Eliot’s in the vents too, just in time to help Parker. (She doubtless has her beloved taser but that would take time away from getting into the vault.)

“I smell lasers” Ahahahahaha

“You’re going to compare me to Eliot right now?” (’over the comms, where others who aren’t Eliot can hear?’ Hardison did not say out loud.)

ouch, okay, Hardison hurting his back like that might be what actually makes him choose the other gig over the team, or at what makes him take a little vacation so he can heal from that. (back injuries are nothing to play around with!)

how did Maxwell get past Eliot? but it’s all good, Eliot’s right behind to disarm him. And Parker’s been doing her hitting lessons, she didn’t even need a taser or to stab anyone!

Oh Harry, the bomb will be used, it’s just not time yet.

New Orleans gumbo is its own food group.

Okay so Hardison’s done a lot of work getting this place in order... WAIT IS THAT A PUNCHING BAG? That’s a punching bag! It might not be the love-letter the brewpub was but it’s definitely a thing added specifically for Eliot.

Oh no, Eliot might realize what Hardison’s doing with this, but Parker hasn’t caught up yet that Hardison’s going to be taking a break from the team.

Parker’s blindsided by this, and she’s upset, but she’s not mad because why didn’t she see this coming she should have seen it, so she leaves to deal with her emotions alone. Hardison follows, naturally, she knew he would, but she can’t face him because then he’ll see her crying, and Parker doesn’t do emotions easily. She’s torn between wanting him to help people and wanting to be with him (and she can’t go with him, she needs to be helping people too).

And Parker doesn’t want Breanna there without Hardison. Again because it’d put Hardison’s family in danger and that’s a step too far for Parker if Hardison doesn’t okay it. And also because with Hardison leaving, Breanna’s just going to be reminders of what Parker’s missing. And Breanna doesn’t have Hardison’s skillset, can’t fill his shoes - not that she should but she can’t, and Parker, I think, is already mentally preparing herself to go it alone again. Because if this job needs Hardison so bad, then surely Eliot’s got some project that needs his specific attention, and it was just one job for Breanna, and Sophie’s been adamant that this is one last job for her, and Harry’s still new and will probably decide to do his own thing given time to think... I think that’s where her brain is at, at least for the next thirty seconds, before she catches up with herself and realizes that more like the time she busted her leg than the team dissolving around her. (This kind of went weird places but that’s stream of thought for me)

And as they come back in Parker’s already cheering up some, because that wave of despair has already blown over. Yeah, she’s not a parent, but she’s good at teaching when she tries.

“It could be a reunion tour.”/“No. I’m retired.” It’s very different from Nate’s old protestations. He was not a thief. Whereas with Sophie it’s not ready. And while they all point out that she’s been happier while doing cons, that they could use the help, it’s not forceful or overpowering. It’s still Sophie’s decision. They’re not going to make her house their new base and taunt her with it; they’re not the sort of people who’d do that anymore, and anyway that’d be cruel instead of a fun sort of goading.

And because they give Sophie space to make a decision, while she doesn’t want to make a long-term commitment, she’s willing to take on ‘just a few more’.

[muchamusedaboutnothing]

Heart of a Hunter Q&A

Heart of a Hunter Character Q&A Bonus

*Spoiler Alert* Do not read this until you are finished with Act V.

This is just a transcript of the questions and answers from the Q&A with the characters that was done after Act V posted. 

I thought it might be fun to make it easily accessible for people to go back and re-read, or for newer members of the HOAH to enjoy for the first time.

*Meant to be enjoyed after reading Act V due to spoilers.*

Also, if you’d like another one of these in the future let me know in the comments!

QUESTION: Sam, what has been the biggest change in the bunker and/or hunting since you got a “sister” now?

SAM: A couple of things come to mind.... First, I have someone to back me up when Dean suggests crazy-ass ideas like ‘Only Meat Mondays’ or-

Dean: Hey! That was a good idea. You’re just a fun-hater.

SAM: Just ignore him. But yeah, we do eat from most of the food groups now, which didn’t really used to be a thing. Um, let’s see ... what else ... Oh, and having someone else around who likes to work out is great. Spider Monkey and I have some fun in the bunker’s make shift gym. It smells better in there now, too, because she’s better at remembering to wipe things down than I am.

READER (Tapping fingers on the desk): I’m the only one who wipes things down.

SAM: Okay, yeah. You are. But the other big thing that’s changed is I spend more time in the backseat of the car.

Reader: Not THAT much more time. You have those gigantor long legs and I know you fit better in the front. I take the back during the longest parts of the drive.

SAM: Honestly, the biggest thing is just having that camaraderie between three of us now. And knowing that when this idiot-

DEAN: Hey!

SAM: -gets himself hurt, that I’m not alone in trying to save his ass.

READER: Awe, thanks Brawny. 

SAM: You’re welcome. 

DEAN: ....

QUESTION: Reader, how do you balance taking care of yourself, the boys, staying up to date and ready for medical emergencies. AND hunting prep? 

READER: Multitasking on steroids! LOL. I think my background in medicine prepared me to transition into this life in ways I couldn’t have even imagined until I was smack dab in the middle of it. I went from one form of crazy to another form of crazy. 

DEAN (Crooking an eyebrow): ....

READER: In all the best ways, honey.

DEAN (Smirking): Mm-hmm.

READER: I also love to learn, so I’m constantly reading and studying medical journals and keeping up on the latest information.

DEAN (Gesturing at Sam): Gives this one a run for his money in the nerd department.

SAM (Initiates fist bump with Reader): Nothing to be ashamed of there.

READER: Damn straight! (Laughing softly.) And I can’t take all the credit for hunting prep. These two (points a finger on either side of her toward Sam and Dean) handle most of that. I’ll help out, sure, but they have such a routine down when it comes to that stuff. It’s almost like getting in the way or throwing an extra cog in the wheel that just complicates things. I do research prep, though. 

DEAN: You do. You shine there, sweetheart.

QUESTION:  Dean, when have you seen the most “doctor mode” come out of your wife? Is it just little things everyday or only in major emergencies?

DEAN: Oooh, that’s a good one....

READER: Sam, are you - why are you blushing?

DEAN (Craning his neck to study Sam’s expression, then smirking): You’re afraid I’m going to answer with a sex thing.

SAM (with glaring bitch face): You’re such an ass.

READER (Trying and only barely succeeding at not laughing): What WERE you going to say, honey?

DEAN: Well, I wasn’t gonna - okay, but now I really kinda want to make it a sex thing.

SAM: ....

DEAN: Okay, okay. I’ll be nice. But don’t say I never did anything for you. What I was going to say is that Doctor Mode really comes out anytime something unexpected happens. Obviously you see it if one of us gets hurts (Looks pointedly at Reader) and that includes you, Doc. You’re good under pressure even when you’re bleeding. Just one of the things I love about you. But it also comes out if, say for instance, a stranger in the grocery store asks if you know where they keep the coconut oil.

READER (Flabbergasted): What?

DEAN: What?  I’m not wrong. Anytime you have a mission to set yourself to, Doctor Mode comes out in full force.

SAM (Chuckling): That’s true. The coconut oil thing was just last week and you were in full on Doctor Mode.

DEAN (Laughing): But you found that old lady her coconut oil and grabbed it off the top shelf for her, even if it was the last thing you’d ever do, dammit!

READER (Also laughing): Good lord. I just can’t even with you two. I’m so outnumbered here. (Clasps hands together) Please, for the love of all that is good, send reinforcements.

DEAN (Wrapping an arm around Reader’s shoulder to pull her close enough to kiss the top of her head): You know you love it.

READER: I think it’s called Stockholm Syndrome....

DEAN AND SAM (Sharing furtive glance and laughing even harder) 

READER: And Sam, if you fall off that chair wile you’re laughing at me, you’re on your own when you hurt yourself. (Winking.)

QUESTION: Hey Doc, what has been your biggest challenge first hunting and living with the Winchesters, and now being married to Dean? And what's been your biggest reward to date? 

READER: Let’s see, my biggest challenge ...

DEAN: I am a delight to be married to, thank you very much.

READER (Smiling and squeezing his arm): He’s right. He is. I picked well with this one, you know. Being married is probably the easiest thing I do.

DEAN (Looking smug): Told ya.

READER: Looking back, even moving into the bunker wasn’t hard to do. Both of them made me feel right at home, and it was all just very comfortable. You wouldn’t think a bunker would be a soft place to fall, but at the time that’s exactly what I needed. And these guys just opened up their home and their hearts and their world to me. I’m still grateful for that everyday.

SAM (smiling and muttering under his breath): Kiss ass

READER (smacking Sam lightly on the shoulder): I love you, too, Brawny.

DEAN: So you’re saying it was hunting that was your biggest challenge?

READER (Biting lip pensively): I think it was more the journey to get to a place where I could start hunting. That was hard. 

DEAN (Nodding slowly): I’ll agree with that.

READER: Because I wasn’t ready at first. I really wasn’t. And by the time I started to feel like I’d done enough research to hold my own with the lore, I realized this guy had never really intended for me to be hunting to begin with. (Looks at Dean.)

DEAN: Yeah, that was my bad. But also, you couldn’t blame me for wanting to keep you safe.

READER: Exactly. It was a weird spot for both of us.

SAM: Even weirder to be the one watching it all go down and not being able to do anything about it.

DEAN (Chuckling): Sam still has PTSD from our - we’ll call it a disagreement

READER: Even once we’d worked out the logistics of me preparing to hunt, I had to prove that I could. I had to prove it to myself as much as I had to prove it to these two. And then getting that first hunt under my belt, with the Lamia, that really solidified things for me. That’s when I knew deep down that I was going to be able to hold my own with the Winchesters. 

SAM: We all knew by then. 

Dean (nodding): In fact, I think we knew long before then. 

SAM: That’s true.

READER: And as far as my biggest reward? That’s one is easy. (Puts an arm around each of the guys shoulders on either side of her, pulling them in close.) It’s this right here. This family that means the world to me.

QUESTION: I have a question for Dean. When did you know Doc was the one for you? Can you tell us about your "ah ha" moment, please?

DEAN: My ‘ah ha’ moment, huh?

READER (Watching adoringly as Dean racks his brain): Do tell, Winchester.

DEAN (Fumbling with the button on his sleeve, rolling it up before starting on the other side.)

SAM: You just checking to make sure your heart is there on your sleeve?

DEAN (Chuckling softly.) Maybe. This isn’t actually that hard, because for me falling in love was a process. And I think that’s only the case because I was trying to wall myself off from it for so long. But I know when I had to start building up walls to try and stop it - to at least try to mitigate the damage and convince myself that the friend zone was okay, and that I could live in that space if it meant seeing her and talking to her. (Looks at Reader now) And that happened the night you spent in my hospital room when I was hurt and Sam was out hunting for the Kitsune without me.

READER: Really? But you were concussed and on pain meds!

DEAN: Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. I was reminding myself all night long while you doctored me and stayed with me and we chatted about growing up in the hunting life that I couldn’t want more from you. Because it could never work. That was wall #1.

READER (Leaning her head on Dean’s shoulder.) Proved you wrong, didn’t we?

DEAN: It was lots of little moments of falling after that. Things you would do or say, and I would justify it to myself that it was okay if I indulged in being close to you because I was never really close enough to screw you up. To screw up the life you were living and the job you were doing. Then you quit your job and moved in and within 3 weeks you’d torn down every wall I’d built up over a six month period, brick by goddamn brick, and the rest is history. 

SAM: So, you know, just your typical Hallmark movie.

READER (Gazing fondly at Dean, unable to wipe the smile from her face.)

DEAN: I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?

READER: Not a chance.

QUESTION: Who is the tidiest at home and on the road? The messiest?

SAM and DEAN (raise hands simultaneously, then look pointedly at each other.)

READER: Whoa, guys. I’m guessing that means I'm going to have to translate. Luckily none of us are slobs, but I’d have to say Sam is the tidiest at home. He’s even organized the books in the library by topic to make referencing things more efficient. But Dean is the tidiest on the road, I think partly because that involves so many hours in his precious Baby, and having to keep a motel room at least semi-organized in the event we all have to jump and run at a moment’s notice. I think I probably fall somewhere in the middle of those two. (Looks at Sam and Dean.) Fair enough?

SAM: Sounds about right.

DEAN (Looks pointedly at Sam): You’re only the tidiest at home because you don’t cook.

SAM: (Shrugs): I can live with that.

Question 2:  Domestically speaking, what is one chore you love and one you hate? 

DEAN (Raising hand): Ooh, pick me!

SAM: Why are we raising our hands again?

READER: Everyone can answer. It’s fine.

DEAN: I love washing my car.

SAM (rolls his eyes): You don’t say?!

DEAN (Ignoring Sam): And I don’t think of it as a chore. It’s a privilege. 

SAM (pretending to stick a finger down his throat and gag.)

DEAN: What? She takes good care of us, so I take good care of her. But I don’t like doing laundry. 

SAM: No, he just irons my shirts with beer for fun. It’s like a - a hobby.

DEAN (SMIRKS):  Exactly.

READER: I like doing laundry. It’s relaxing to fold clothes. And I love seeing everything come out fresh and clean again. After all the blood stains are gone, that is. But I’m good at getting that out most of the time.

DEAN (Looking at Reader): But you hate cleaning the bathroom.

READER (Dramatic slouch): God, I really do. I HATE scrubbing the bathroom.

SAM: I do my fair share of bathroom cleaning, which I think more than makes up for the fact that I don’t cook.

DEAN (Does that little frown / crooking one eyebrow thing he does): That’s true. And it’s fine, because we wouldn’t want to eat your cooking anyway.

SAM: I keep our computers up to date, keep the firewalls running, the antivirus software current, and manage the VPNs. I like doing that stuff. But I hate always have to reach for the tall things.

READER and DEAN together: That is not a chore.

SAM (Indignant): It is when you live with short people.

DEAN and READER: ....

QUESTION: What was the worst thing you guys have been through regarding hunts injuries everyday life?  And what was the best moments of life you 3 have had since this journey?

SAM: I didn’t particularly love that time you were both unconscious in the infirmary, presumably both bleeding internally while I stood there not knowing what in the hell I was supposed to do about any of it. Waiting around for a spell that might not even work to kick in so she (points to Reader) could save his stubborn ass (points to Dean.) That sucked.

DEAN: God, that was a nightmare.

READER: That’s one way of putting it.... For me, losing my brother was one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. I can’t imagine what I would have done if I hadn’t had these guys by my side helping me through it. 

DEAN (Squeezing Reader’s shoulder in support): I know that was rough on you. Still is.

READER (Nodding): Some days more than others.

DEAN: I know personally, for me ... (Turns to look at Reader again) When you disappeared out of thin air and Sam and I had to track you down at that house where the Djinn were keeping you in a cellar. Getting you back home was just the beginning of the trial with that one, because I was afraid you were going to die on me. And Sammy got the antidote back for you just by the skin of his teeth, and when you came around it was one of the best days of my life. But watching you struggle to remember what was real, to remember who you were - and me wanting to help you, but not being sure where you and I stood? That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

READER (Leaning in to kiss Dean’s cheek): And you were still my rock. Through all of it.

SAM (bumping Reader’s knee with his fist lightly.) That was hard on all of us. I know it was hard on you, too.

READER: It was. I didn’t know which way was up. For a while. But, we got through it. And that’s a great Segway into one of my greatest moments I’ve had. Because the little trip down memory lane that ended with you getting down on one knee and asking me to marry you was absolutely one of the highlights of my life.

DEAN: The wedding was mine.

READER: (Gushing and smiling like an idiot): Oh, the wedding! The wedding we never even dared to dream up. Best day of my life.

SAM: That’s a highlight for me, as well. Addie and I put in a lot of work to make all of that go down the way it did. And seeing it come to fruition? Seeing the two people who mean the most to me promise to have each other’s backs for a lifetime? It was straight up fairy tale. And Winchesters don’t usually get fairy tales.

DEAN: We definitely have you to thank for that, Sammy. You know, we drive around trying to stop bad things from happening to good people. And you don’t expect anything in return. You don’t expect a thank you, and you certainly don’t expect you’ll ever get to see any of them again. But having a whole ballroom full of people who know us by our real names, who know exactly what we do day in and day out, and having them there to root for us on our wedding day? That was - I’m going to use the word awesome, because I can’t describe it any other way. And watching this one (Points at Reader) come toward me in that dress?

READER: That dress! It was perfect. Addie and her parents - they just knew what to do. And with all of Sam’s planning, it just went off without a hitch. The ceremony Mr. Anderson officiated, the decorations, the guests, the music-

DEAN: The wedding pie.

READER (Laughing): The wedding pie. It was all just a dream come true, for sure. 

QUESTION:  Samuel, have you by any chance kept in touch with Addie?

SAM: ....

DEAN and READER (focusing intently on Sam, saying together): Yeah, Sam. Have you?

SAM: (Blushing furiously): Addie and I keep in touch. Yeah. (Then, after seeing the accusing look from Dean and Reader adds) We’re friends, all right?

READER: They definitely keep in touch.

DEAN (Nodding in bobble head fashion.)

SAM (Leaning over to look at the reader, holding out a questioning hand, palm up.) Come on, you two.

READER: Oh, Addie and I talk, too. Girl talk. All the time.

SAM (shifting uncomfortably in his seat, so much so that he completely misses Dean’s bitch face.)

READER (mouthing silently) They’re adorable. 

QUESTION:   Are you going to teach the boys more first aid/ medical training? Like using a stethoscope etc and other basics that all help with the over all diagnostic? And if so who’s going to be the test dummy?

READER (Looks back and forth between Sam and Dean while contemplating): Yeah, I mean, we’ve done quite a bit throughout everything. It’s more like on-the-job training, I guess. We do what we need to when it comes up. As for the test dummy ...

DEAN (Raising his hand): That’s usually me.

SAM: Only because you get hurt more often.

DEAN: He’s not wrong. Test dummy is whoever the actual dummy is that got themselves hurt.

READER: To be fair, Sam and Dean were doing a fairly good job at patching themselves up before I ever came along. And having a doctor around has saved them from some trips to the emergency room, certainly, but they’ve managed to hold their own. I do a little refining with them, mostly. And we’ve had to work on things like not using whiskey to sterilize everything, but when you’re in a jam, even that beats having nothing.

DEAN (Looking at Reader fondly): You’ve learned a thing or two from us along the way, I see.

READER (Laughing): I definitely have. Bad habits, mostly, but yeah. And to answer your question, I think you’ll be surprised to see some stuff coming up in the next act or two that you just don’t know about yet. But yeah, these two get their Doc on from time to time. They can definitely hold their own when it comes to first aid, but they just keep adding to their skill sets.

QUESTION: Here’s another one for the reader - if you’re anything like me being in a medical profession when you’re sick or injured do you immediately think the worst or become a bit of a hypochondriac? Like my stomachs hurting, probably period pains /but could be appendicitis? Doctors do make the worst patients right Sam and Dean? Not that you two are much better!

READER (Laughing): That is a good one! From one medical professional to another, I tend to lean on the side of denial. But I’ll only let that go so far. I tend to think I can handle it, and I can tough through the pain and I just keep going until I just can’t anymore. I’m sure I’m a terrible patient....

DEAN (narrowing eyes): What? No. You’re - you’re fine.

SAM (Pointing at Reader and mouthing): The worst.

DEAN (Mouthing silently): Just awful.

Reader (Deadpan): I have peripheral vision. I can see you both right now. (Busts up laughing as Dean and Sam look incredulous.) But yeah, I always have in the back of my mind the worst case scenario, but it takes a while for me to consciously admit those possibilities. I don’t usually have time to fret the small stuff. As for these two? (Points with her thumbs on either side of her.) I know it’s serious when they get quiet about it. If they’re whining or complaining, they’re generally fine.

Dean: Hey now.

SAM: That’s not - no. What?

READER (To Dean and Sam): Oh, don’t pretend that’s not how it is. You know it and I know it. Everyone knows it. It’s not until you don’t want to talk about something and I’m having to drag information out of either of you that I really start to worry. 

QUESTION: Aside from Dean's initial hospital stay and the chest tube incident, what is the scariest medical situation you've all found yourself in?

READER (Laughing): Nothing like a question about life threatening injuries to make you realize how many there have been....

DEAN (Shrugging): Hazard of the job.

SAM: He says with a casual shrug.

READER (Looking at Dean): Although I know the concussion and the clavicle fracture sucked for you, those weren’t exactly life threatening once we had assessed your injuries and knew what we were dealing with. But I have to admit I got really worried when Sam hauled you back to the bunker and you were crammed in the backseat of the car, just like the first time I laid eyes on you-

DEAN: I like to make a good first impression.

READER: I’m just thinking back here. There was that time you were unconscious after that run in with a demon, and I didn’t have all the tools at my disposal I was used to having in an emergency room.. After a few hours when you weren’t coming around I was seriously questioning my sanity in not just having Sam turn around the other way and take you straight to a hospital. But you woke up and saved me from having to carry the guilt of a bad decision for the rest of my life. So thanks for that.

DEAN: You’re welcome. As for me, the Djinn poison and trying to manage that without you conscious to tell me what to do for you, that was the most scared I’ve been. But that’s because when it’s Sam or I that get hurt, I know we’re in good hands. (Looks at Sam) Like that time your freaking lung collapsed after the Lamia tossed you into a wall. Was I scared? Hell yes. But my girl (points at Reader) knew exactly what to do. And she was so cool and collected because sticking a needle in someone’s chest is just another Tuesday for her, you know.

SAM (Nodding): It does give you some perspective. When the Doctor is there to help, you just have to follow instructions. (Looking at Dean) You dealt with most of her stuff on your own with the Djinn poison, because I had to leave you to go after the antidote. But I remember being so impressed when I got back and you were running things in that infirmary in a way that made it look at least semi-believable that you knew your shit.

READER (Taking Dean’s hand in hers and smiling.)

DEAN: (Winks at Reader, a little smile tugging on his lips): Scared shitless is more like it.

SAM (To Dean): You’d put in an IV, had the monitors hooked up, and were giving her oxygen. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. 

READER: Not to mention the fact that you had to keep giving me epinephrine because I was so bradycardic. It had to be scary.

DEAN: Scary doesn’t even begin to cover it, sweetheart.

READER: But that right there is exactly the reason I spent so much time putting together my little book of notes. Because it was bound to happen. 

DEAN (Nodding in defeat): It’s true. I hated the very idea of it, but you were right. Which is the reason I have read that little book cover to cover enough times by now that I could teach “Medicine for Dummies: A Hunter’s Guide to What Hurts Like Hell” classes on the side.

READER: I know you said chest tube aside, but Dean’s pneumothorax has probably been the scariest thing as far as taking care of injuries for me. I didn’t exactly have a choice in the moment, but no woman - doctor or not - wants to have to cut her husband’s chest open and put in a tube. (Looking at Dean) I knew the pain of it was just terrible, and I was so relieved when you blacked out.

DEAN (Chuckling): You and me both, Doc.

SAM: Like I said, I wasn’t around for a lot of the Djinn stuff, but shit went down when you used that spell to take on her injury. And then shit just kept going down, it felt like. I thought it would never end. God, that sucked.

READER (Laughing softy): That’s us. We’re little rays of sunshine.

QUESTION: I’m curious about if/when an addition to the family is coming and how it would be revealed to the family. Any ideas?

READER (Immediately turning to stare at Sam): Sam, are - are you pregnant?

SAM: ....

DEAN: Sammy, I thought we talked about this. Condoms, man. Condoms.

Sam: (Jim from the Office style glare at the camera.) Idjits.

QUESTION: Ok so this is for Dean. Do you still have the photo album Doc gave you on your honeymoon???? Well when you got back to the bunker.

SAM (Looking at Dean): What photo album? There’s an album?

READER (Blushes furiously): ....

DEAN: Why yes. Yes I do.

SAM: Like a family photo album?

DEAN (Ignoring Sam completely): I look at it often.

SAM (Unable to get an answer from Dean, turns to Reader now): Why haven’t I ever seen it? Am I in it?

READER (shifting in her seat): It’s just pictures of the car, Sam. No big deal.

SAM (Raising his eyebrows in confusion and turning back to Dean)

DEAN (Full on smirking.)

SAM (Face falling and eyes growing wide, followed by level 10 bitch face) Ugh, sometimes you guys are gross....

Thanks again to everyone who participated in this Q&A live, and let me know if you’re interested in doing another.

[blarrghe]

"I called you at 2am because I need you" for... is it too indulgent to ask for Dorian x Anders?

never too much! Decided on a straight sequel to the last one, so here’s modern au resident!Anders and politician!Dorian after a long shift. --

He had three hours left in his shift when he got the text from Barb. He looked suspiciously down at his phone when it buzzed. Barb’s contact was in his phone with a little butterfly next to her name, to match the tattoo on her ankle and the bright and fluttery nature of her personality. He liked Barb, but she was almost definitely asking him to cover her shift, and he debated opening the message for several minutes before doing so with a reluctant sigh. Barb was going through some things; messy divorce, two little kids to look after all on her own, the pay they made here and the stress that came with it. 

“Can’t find a sitter, can you take a shift?” read the first text, Anders was going to say yes anyway, but then two more came in, buzzing in quick succession. “unless you want to babysit? I’d give you my pay!” bright, chipper texting tone, accompanied by several hopeful looking emojis, “and brownies! 🍫” Barb did make really excellent brownies. He considered taking her up on the second offer, but he really wasn’t sure he had the energy for kids who weren’t bed-ridden or in need of medical care. He could turn on Fun Doctor Mode like a lightswitch for the kids down in pediatrics, but kids who wanted to refuse bedtime and stay up watching TV they weren’t mature enough to handle? He shook his head, half smiling over the offer of brownies, half frowning over the decision he’d made before he even opened the first message. Barb deserved to get the time with her kids, anyway. 

“I’ve got you covered.” Kissy face cat emoji, knife and fork emoji. 

“Lifesaver!!!!!” every single colour of heart.

He pencilled his name in on the clipboard for the next rotation, and began to regret the fact that he’d so quickly stuffed down the pastry Dorian had brought him earlier as he tried to remember if he had enough coins in the pockets of his coat for both a bag of pretzels from the vending machine and the bus home. He didn’t, but he’d have more luck charming the bus driver into a free ride than the vending machine into giving up its snacks, so he went to his locker and fished out the last of his bus money. 

The rest of his shift went by in a blur of activity, up and down halls as his white-soled shoes squeaked and squawked along the linoleum floors, up and down stairs that were faster than waiting for elevators, thankless pages from doctors all across the sprawling hospital, avoiding his shift supervisor in case she asked about Barb. Then Barb’s shift was much the same, for the four and a half hours after that. It was nearing two am when he finally staggered out to the bus stop, and well past it by the time he arrived home — on foot, because the bus driver had not, in fact, let him ride for free. Just what he got for putting hope into the kindness of strangers. One kind act was, apparently, the extent of his daily karma allotment. Fair enough — he could still almost taste the honey of that pastry on his lips; either an uncommonly good morsel, or he was just drastically underfed. The latter, but the pastry-giver was certainly more than he deserved.

Shit. Dorian. He’d asked him to call. Anders looked blearily at the clock on his stove as he kicked off his shoes and plodded over to the cabinet to dish out some kibble for Ser Pounce. The cold tile floor was a welcome relief on his worn out feet, though the fact that he could feel it at all was a testament to the grave state of his socks. Ser Pounce pounced down from his perch above the cabinets to give some love and a swath of shedding cat hair to Anders’ legs, then nibbled at his food while Anders opened his fridge to try to figure something out for himself. He sniffed at the milk, decided it was probably still fine, and then poured it over a heaping bowl of sugary cereal. Yeah, he’d have made a pretty shit babysitter. 

Anders took his bowl with him to his bed, flopping down on the lumpy mattress with a sigh that fully emptied his lungs, and pulled out his phone. He opened his message history and pulled up the conversation with Dorian. Not much there, but what there was made him smile. Mostly short, friendly messages. No emojis except for the one he’d stuck next to Dorian’s name in the contact page — a snake, not his first choice, but he’d embarassed himself by asking the man which one he’d like when he first scored his number, and snake was what he’d picked. Anders would have gone with the diamond, or the little tophat, or maybe the cat with hearts for eyes…

Anyway, then it had turned out that Dorian was a very formal texter. Proper punctuation and fully articulated words and all that. Anders had spent far too many minutes in their text-based conversations together fretting over how immature it would come off to use an abbreviation for laughter versus spelling out the words “haha”, or if even that was too juvenile. But he and Dorian were both all sarcastic humour and chastising bits of flirtation, and he also fretted about the tone of that without it. 

“you up?” he wrote, then hovered his thumb over the send button for thirty or so seconds before deciding that it was worth the shot. Worse came to worst, Dorian would reply with a friendly apology and an offer to chat the next morning. He was dependable like that. 

“Depends, is this a booty call?” came the almost instant reply. Alone in his room, Anders blushed. 

Blushing emoji, monkey covering his eyes emoji, sweat-smile emoji… delete, delete, delete. “No, just miss you,” DELETE, definitely delete. He tried typing some other things. “Just got in, but thinking of you…” no. “You wish lol” haha? Neither. He erased the message and began again, but then the phone screen lit up with “Dorian🐍”, buzzing as it rang. 

“The little dots were driving me mad. Did you just get in?” His voice was like honey, too. 

“Yeah, covered for Barb.” 

“Again?” 

Anders leaned back against his pillow, closing his eyes as Dorian’s concern blanketed over him. “She couldn’t find a sitter.” 

“You’re too nice for your own good.” Dorian scolded him gently through the phone, and it probably said something unhealthy about Anders that hearing Dorian admiringly call him nice made the whole last five hours of life-draining overtime and bitter walk home worth it. 

“She offered me brownies,” he shrugged the compliment off, “what can I say? I’m a sucker for chocolate.” 

“I’ll remember that.” Dorian purred, causing Anders to almost second guess his response to the idea of a booty call, exhausted or not. “So, not a booty call then?” Anders groaned inwardly, wishing it were, but no. Not unless Dorian wanted to talk to him on the phone the whole way over to keep him from falling asleep before he arrived, and even then.

“I just — uh…” he was going to say something about the book, but he hadn’t actually had time yet to look at it. His heart rate quickened with panic, he needed to find something to keep Dorian on the phone. “Thanks for the visit today.” Yes, because that warranted a phone call at three in the morning. “Sorry if I woke you…” 

“Nonsense. I’m always awake at this hour. It’s a terrible habit of mine.” Dorian did indeed sound very wakeful. Probably also very disappointed in the grogginess of Anders’ own voice. 

“Mm,” Anders muttered, his eyes closing under the warmth of Dorian’s voice through the phone again. 

“But you sound awful.” 

“Ran out of bus fare,” Anders explained, “had to walk… long day.” On a better night, Dorian might listen to his work gossip and share some rants of his own; they made quite a pair, both always seeming too short on time and too packed with stress to get out much, both always angry with their bosses — though Dorian was frustrated by beaurocracy constantly getting in the way of his efforts at world-saving, while Anders’ patients gave him fulfilment enough, it was just that his pockets were perpetually empty and all his managers were slave drivers. 

“Why don’t you have a bus pass?” Dorian sighed at him. A bus pass was a hundred bucks up front at the beginning of the month, and with payday always landing two weeks after but every other bill needing to paid right then too… but he didn’t really want to explain that particular predicament to Dorian, who had a flashy suit for every day of the week and a car that cost about as much as Anders was worth in medical school debt. “Well, you can call me next time. I’d give you a ride.” he purred on that note too, having fun with his double entendres. Anders chuckled. 

“I’ll keep you in mind,” he promised. Though the thought of begging his quasi-boyfriend for a ride at two am made him shudder. Still, not quite a lie; he always seemed to have Dorian on his mind at the end of a long shift. 

“Since I have you, dinner?” The inflection of the question was a little high. Anders crunched on a mouthful of cereal with his eyes still closed and mumbled something unintelligable. “You’re off Friday, aren’t you? Do me a favour and don’t pick up any more shifts. I have a place in mind I think you’ll like.” 

“Mm?” He thought about the kind of places Dorian would think were good spots for a dinner date, and was very glad that he couldn’t see the blue-tinted milk running down his chin. 

“It’s a surprise.” Back to low purring, that nervousness or whatever it had been apparently gone again. Anders liked the warm flirtatious tone, but the little breaks into uncertainty were what kept him coming back for more. So much in common. “I’ll pick you up at seven?”

Anders “mm”’d through his mouthful of cereal in the affirmative. 

“Amatus?” Even his pet names were classy. Anders would go with “love” if it weren’t so close to an unthinkable state of being, or “babe” if it weren’t for the fact that Dorian outshone that by a mile with amatus. His thoughts were all cat-with-heart-eyes emoji at the sound, and not much else.  

Anders swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Get some sleep.” 

“Mm.” Anders moved the bowl from his lap to the cluttered chair at his bedside, and leaned deeper into his pillow. “See you Friday, Dor” Dor, was that really the best he could do? 

He heard Dorian hum contentedly on the other side of the line, “looking forward to it.” he said. 

“Night, love.” Anders muttered, then very very quickly he hit end call, and shut his eyes tight. 

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 11

[Another chapter in the books! This one runs parallel in time to the last (which will be pretty obvious) and has a little more action! So enjoy, have fun, etc.

And don’t forget: you can find the rest of this series and soem of my other BS for this blog here!]

Nabooru

Their trio of space pods burst through Noya's atmosphere and slammed into the surface, a triangle of craters left in their wake. Nabooru replaced her scouter on the side of her face, a press of the button causing the yellow characters to flash across the orange glass as it started back up. She opened up the door and floated out of her pod, touching down on the maroon dirt. A teal, creeping vegetation sprawled over it as far as the eye could see. In the distance, she noted the silhouette of a city or village  and a range of mountains beyond it.

She stretched and glanced to her side as Nappa and Raditz joined her, both working out the kinks in their own joints from the long trip. "Awfully quiet here. Where do you think that team is? Hope they didn't kick the bucket before we got here," Nappa said, popping his knuckles. "Maybe it means we'll get a good fight out of these guys if they're calling in reinforcements."

The repetitive pings of a scan sounded from Raditz's scouter. "I wouldn't get my hopes up," the other Saiyan replied, turning around to check the other direction. "I'm not getting a single reading, save for five decent ones off in that direction."

He nodded opposite the mountain range. "Make that three."

Nabooru raised an eyebrow and began her own scan, Nappa following suit with a huff. "You're fucking with us. Why the hell would we be called here if they didn't need us?"

"No, he's right. I'm only getting those three readings, too. That must be the team we're meant to rendezvous with."

Raditz flew up several meters and gazed around. "Looks like something went down over there," he called down to them. "Might have been a settlement or something. Doesn't look like there's much left now."

"Let's go check it out. Something feels off here."

Nabooru followed Raditz and Nappa to the site of what could have potentially been a compound of sorts, a decent sized village, or something else entirely. The damage sustained in the area made it difficult to tell, the edifices reduced to little more than a half foot of wall at best. Scorch marks and craters dotted the area, and they could hardly walk a few feet without finding a corpse or the remnants of one. Each had a variant of blue skin, ranging from near white hues to navy. A few wore what she guessed were plain clothes, while most sported a sort of white armor. Soldiers. Most of the bodies were heavily mutilated, physically torn or shot with concentrated ki blasts to pieces, others sporting deep gashes as if from claws. Maroon soil was stained with emerald blood. Fresh.

"I thought I recognized that power level." Nappa squatted down next to a corpse missing every limb. The lower half of its skull had been crushed as if beneath someone's foot. "Looks like Shikoo and his team's work, don't you think, Raditz?"

"Seems that way. Doesn't seem like they need our help, though. And they never have before." His frown deepened. "Maybe it's some kind of trap."

Raditz vocalized Nabooru's growing fear as each piece of evidence seemed to confirm the theory. "Who's Shikoo?" she asked, turning her attention from the massacre and back toward the direction in which their scouters pinged the readings. Two of the power levels weren't much and would hardly be a challenge for even Raditz. But the third was more powerful, and while only around Nappa's power level, her insides squirmed. Why would they be sent here if this team had everything under control? Was there some secret of this planet they weren't privy to that presented a danger they couldn't handle?

"One of Frieza's favorites, and I'm sure you can see why. What the guy lacks in power he makes up for in brutality and dirty tricks," Nappa told her, folding his arms over his chest. "Makes us Saiyans look soft. But I'm sure you've seen the guy. He's bigger than me, looks like a cross between some kind of reptile and a dog. Red fur and scales. Loud and brags constantly."

Nabooru's brow furrowed and she clicked her tongue. "Mm, yes I've seen him around the base once in a while. Never considered him important enough to learn his name, especially after he and his idiots tried to force themselves on me back when I first started on the force." The corner of her lips quirked upward in a malicious smirk. "He didn't take being turned down very well. But I took care of him and made it clear he should leave me alone."

Raditz chuckled. "Good. The blowhard deserves all the beatings that come to him. Especially for that shit. Nappa and I may have heckled you for a romp in the sack, but he's so full of himself, of course he would try to force his ugly ass on you. I hope these guys took him down a peg or two."

"Confirms the rumors anyway," huffed Nappa. "Guy's disgusting. Pretty pathetic when you gotta resort to force to get off. Guess he ain't much of a charmer, no surprise there."

She kept her surprise about their stance on rape to herself. Considering the violent nature and disregard for life, their history of taking what they wanted by force, rape didn't seem like it would be far off the table for them. Both the Saiyans with her had taken her refusals without much hassle, so she supposed it shouldn't have with at least these two. A point of respect for them, at least, considering the rampant trouble they had with men attempting such with her people back home. As a race of all females and how their style of dress revealed far more skin than Hylian garb, men had a sense of entitlement to Gerudo women, and seemed to believe that meant they were asking for it. 

"I suppose we should contact Frieza," she said at last, reaching up to her scouter and selecting the proper channel. "Let him know what we found and what we're meant to do instead."

Once the scouter connected successfully, Frieza greeted her before she could open her mouth to speak: "Ah, what good timing, Nabooru. You have landed on planet Noya and met with the other team there?"

"Yes, my lord. But we are confused. When we landed, we found the planet had already been successfully purged of its in--"

"Yes, yes, I am aware of the success in purging the planet. The instructions to rendezvous with the soldiers sent to Noya were...purposefully vague. The task for you and the Saiyans is to kill that team. Don't worry your pretty head over why, dear. It's unbecoming of a soldier. Their punishment has been a long time coming."

He broke the connection before she could confirm her understanding, but by the questioning expressions in her comrades' faces, her own revealed her opinion on the troublesome news. Surprised wasn't the right word for what she felt. Frieza was known for orders that felt out of place or cruel. Unwarranted and harsh. But piecing together their situation, Nappa's words, and the fact that they had been split from Vegeta only further impressed upon her a sinking feeling of dread. She less suspected a trap for them than viewing it all as one for Vegeta, a "favorite" of Frieza's like Shikoo. Or if it was one for them, was this a precursor to the orders Vegeta would be handed? To end his team and allies in the rebellion they plotted?

"What'd he say?" Nappa asked at last, snapping her out of a spiral of paranoia and back to the task at hand.

"He means for us to kill Shikoo and his crew."

"Really?" Raditz's brow furrowed. "What did they do?"

"He didn't say. Just that their punishment was a long time coming."

The Saiyans exchanged a look of disbelief with a hint of concern. Nabooru wondered if they considered the same possibilities as her. If they wondered if some other team or Vegeta and Frieza themselves lay in wait to off them, too. As much as she wanted to ask, she didn't know who could be listening. And they had a job to do. If anything followed this, they would have to face it once they dealt with Shikoo and his cronies. The memory of them offering to help her find her way back to the barracks and then cornering her, how they tried to touch her anywhere they could reach and tugged her hair, their taunting words from how pretty she was and how good she probably felt to insulting her lack of control of her ki yet. Maybe she didn't back then, but her strength proved enough to subdue the three of them and send them to the hospital ward. She escaped their disgusting behavior, but how many hadn't, if what Nappa said rang true?

Back then, she still tried to cling to her no killing rule for her sanity and her ignorance to the sort of backlash killing fellow soldiers would have. But now she not only had permission, she had the will to do it. If not only for her own revenge, but for the horrors they inflicted on others, too. This time, she wouldn't hold back. She didn't have to.

Three scouters beeped to signal approaching power levels, and Nabooru couldn't help but snort as the hulking beast Shikoo and his cohorts landed before them. 

"Come to see how real soldiers work, apes?" Shikoo grinned at Nappa and Raditz, showing off sharp, yellowing teeth in his elongated, canine-like muzzle. A forked tongue flicked out to taste the air. "Where's your diminutive leader, huh? Someone finally give the prince with no subjects the licking he deserves?"

His cohorts snickered and Nabooru noticed Nappa's fists and jaw tighten with the flare of his temper. "You idiots won't be laughing in a minute." The Saiyan general smirked and cracked his knuckles. "I've been waiting for a chance to stomp you."

The smaller two--an orange skinned male with a too-blonde Mohawk and a weedy, birdlike soldier with beady black eyes--shifted in obvious discomfort under Nappa's threat, but Shikoo remained unperturbed. "Please. You wouldn't dare. Not with my favor with Frieza. The alliance my people have is too precious for him to allow a couple monkeys to pick a fight with me."

Nabooru snorted, but his claims had her mind shifting back to her people. The fate of the Saiyans. "That explains a lot. But too bad for you, Frieza seems to think killing you is more important than whatever deal you and your people have with the empire."

Yellow eyes snapped to her, slit pupils dilating for a moment in recognition. His hackles rose and hair surrounding a line of spikes along his back stood on end. His aggravation melted back to sick amusement and he laughed. "Well, well. I remember you. Come crawling back for that fun I promised you after all, huh?" His attention fell back to Nappa and Raditz. "Taking orders from women now? You Saiyans really are a joke. Guess it is a step up from short, angry, and overcompensating. Easier to look at, too."

"Can we get this over with? This guy's voice is making me sick," Raditz complained. "I'll take the two wimps in the back alone if I have to."

"You're still on that?! What did I tell you?!" Shikoo snarled. "Frieza will have your heads if you try anything!"

"And what did I tell you? Frieza himself sent us here to kill you." A smirk curled Nabooru's lips and she turned her attention to Nappa and Raditz. "You mind if I take him? I'm really kicking myself for not finishing him off all those years ago."

Nappa huffed and folded his arms, making a show of his indignance. "Damn, guess I can't argue with that. Much as I wanna bury this mutt myself, I think you've got a bigger stake." He nudged Raditz. "You take the orange one and I got bird brain." Without waiting for a response, the larger of the two surged forward and slammed his leg into his opponent's side, sending him sailing with a squawk. The general laughed and swept after him. "Try and make this fun for me, birdie!"

Raditz shot a series of magenta blasts toward the other minion who, more prepared for the onslaught than his companion, dodged backward nimbly and blocked what he couldn't with raised arms. "Give him a few good ones for me, won't you Nabs?" He shot her a wry grin and pursued his opponent with ruthless abandon. 

“Stupid move on their part, leaving you alone with me,” Shikoo snarled, vicious grin back on his mug. “You don’t have the stomach to kill me. I saw it in your eyes then, and I’m sure you’ll falter again now. And that’s when I’ll finish what I started all those years ago. Maybe I’ll make your monkey friends watch.”

Nabooru rolled her eyes skyward. “Please. I feel so bad for you, I’ll give you a free first hit.” She beckoned him with her index finger. “Come on, big guy. Let’s see if you can do more than just flap your ugly mouth.”

As she hoped, Shikoo snarled at her taunt and lunged. Black claws extended outward and he swiped them toward her throat. Nabooru’s hand shot up and she grasped his wrist, her hand barely covering half of its circumference. He grunted and struggled against her strength. “So you’re a whore and a filthy liar…”

Her grip tightened, and bones crunched beneath her hand. “I’ve kind of proven the first one wrong by turning you down, haven’t I?” She caught his opposite fist. Her smirk widened when his eyes flashed in rage. “But I suppose you’re right about the liar thing.”

"I'll kill you, bitch!" he roared, tugging back in an attempt to free himself. 

She held fast, orange energy flaring up around her. After a few more tugs, she released him, forcing him to stumble backward when he lost his balance. Nabooru shot forward and buried her fist in his scaled belly. Shikoo wheezed and doubled over. Head at her level, Nabooru wheeled back and kneed him in the face with bone-crunching force, whipping his head back and sending him wheeling backward once more. Blue blood oozed from his nose and mouth.

"This has been fun." Shikoo seethed as he raised his head again and spat blood on her boots. He shook with his rage, and Nabooru only wished Nappa and Raditz had remained with his crew to witness his embarrassment. She flexed her hand, forming a cylinder of ki in her palm. She wrapped her fingers around it like a hilt and willed it outward, curving and widening it into the shape of a blade similar to those she favored back home. "But I'm tired of playing. You're not really worth breaking a sweat over."

Using his shock at the sight of her ki blade, she shot forward again. She swept the blade downward, tip aimed at the ground between his feet. She brought it back up in a swift arc, between his legs and through his skull, splitting him vertically in half. His responding punch halted mid-swing, and his body fell apart with a stomach-churning squelch and a pair of thuds as each half fell to the ground.

"Geez, Nabs. Did you have to go crotch up? You made me cringe."

Her ki blade dissipated and she rested her hands on her hips. She turned to face Nappa as Raditz rejoined them, neither appearing to have taken too much damage. Raditz looked slightly ruffled with a bloody lip, but otherwise, both defeated Shikoo's goons without issue. "Of course. A disgusting bastard like him deserves it. If I wasn't supposed to kill him, I might have stopped at around his belly button."

Raditz wiped his mouth and grumbled. "Has anyone told you you're terrifying? You've been around Vegeta too long."

"I didn't realize you two were so squeamish," Nabooru snorted. She glanced at Shikoo's split corpse, the glee from her victory short lived as she remembered his claims. How Vegeta was within the tyrant’s clutches and, if Frieza knew what they planned, could be in danger.

 "Speaking of Vegeta, what do you think Frieza has him doing?" A subtle attempt to probe their thoughts on the matter while potentially gaining some reassurance. "He's done this before right?"

“Sure. And I didn’t realize you were such a worrywart.” Nappa and Raditz exchanged knowing glances. “I thought Vegeta was just messing with us, but you two really are up to more than just training when you’re left alone with free time, huh?”

Her posture stiffened and heat rushed to her cheeks. “What is that supposed to mean?” She narrowed her eyes and marched over to them. Their grins only widened and she prodded both of them in the chest with her index fingers. “Just because the two of you can’t keep it in your battle suits doesn’t mean we’re a couple of horny teenagers who can’t handle being alone together. We actually want to get stronger unlike you slackers.”

“I have noticed he’s been in a better mood than normal once in a while,” added Raditz, ignoring her. “Sort of confirms that his smug attitude when he told us ‘maybe, maybe not’ last time we asked wasn’t just him messing with us.”

“Makes him a damn hypocrite though. He told us to quit trying. Guess he didn’t want to share.”

“We’re not sleeping together! Ever! Not even once!” Nabooru could kick that idiot for basically bragging to the other two Saiyans. She had faith neither of them would spread it around whether they believed it or not, but their insistence still pissed her off. “We train. That’s it.”

“It’s not a big deal. In fact, I approve. It’s about time the two of you got laid.” Nabooru slapped Nappa’s hand away before he could plop it on her shoulder. He winced. “Besides, it’s beneficial for us all because, like Raditz said, it puts Vegeta in a better mood for a little while. We all win.”

“Maybe he’s just in a better mood because you two aren’t bothering him as much.” She flipped around on her heel. “Can we please just get out of here? Seeing that ugly bastard again did nothing for my mood, and if you two keep this up, I’ll do the same to you as I did to him and make up the most embarrassing stories for your deaths I can think of.”

She heard the two snigger, but they joined her in flight without more of their incessant teasing. It at least distracted her from her paranoia and concern for the prince’s wellbeing outside of the usual sort of abuse or inanity he would suffer in Frieza’s company. A premature assumption, perhaps, but she decided to take at least Nappa’s lack of concern as a good sign. Or enough of one to keep her from fretting until she knew otherwise. 

[reminiscing-writer]

Unexpected Surprise

Prompt: Reid is a regular at his local bookstore, and also has a very good acquaintance with the young storekeeper there. When she turns down his date very last second, he finds a secret about her that can’t help but make him fall harder for her.

Warning: idk man I’m just tryna write fluff lmao I got hella carried awayyyy

We all deserve happy Reid

—————

The cold October air whizzed by, as Spencer walked into Pages And Pages, his local bookstore, with a large smile on his face, and two steaming coffees in hand. He’d made it a part of his schedule to try and drop by at least once a week. Sure, the books were very captivating, but so was the receptionist.

He thought, from the moment he laid eyes on her, that she was a beauty. Her hair was always loosely tied in a bun, her make up close to minimal, and her sense of style almost mirrored his- sweaters. Lots of sweaters.

He found it fairly easy to talk to her, because, although at first he stumbled with his words, her kind and soft spoken demeanor drew him into a safe space.

Y/n was very well aware of Spencer’s occupation. If he didn’t come by on his weekly visit, she’d figure he was out saving the world, as she liked to put it.

The little bell on the large oak door of the bookstore rang as Spencer entered, and headed straight for y/n’s desk. He was very punctual. 12:15 every Friday. Y/n didn’t even have to look up to know that the shadow covering her table was him.

She had a smile etched on her lips before she even looked up, “You realize I’m seeing you in less than 48 hours right?” She joked, taking the cup of coffee he handed to her.

“I do,” he smiled, just as stricken by her beauty as the last time he saw her, “but, I didn’t want to skip out on meeting with you today.” He tucked a strand of loose hair behind his ear.

She takes a sip of her drink, humming at the delightful taste, “Why won’t you just tell me what you order?” She has her eyes closed, having every taste bud tingle in happiness, “This is delicious.”

He laughs slightly at her happiness, “Becuase, if I told you, then you could get it yourself, anytime. And, I want these coffee meetings to be special.” He says, shyly shrugging.

Y/n’s cheeks filled with a rose blush, “Dr. Reid, you are over the top.” She laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Just wait until Sunday,” Spencer sips his own coffee, “I’ll pick you up from your place, by 8 o’clock, you said, right?” He double-checked. He didn’t need to double check. He had it memorized down to a T. Her address. The route. The time to pick her up. The restaurant he was planning on taking her too. The walk that he planned on them taking from said restaurant to a small ice cream parkour.

He didn’t need to double-check anything.

“Mm-hmm,” She hummed, sipping her drink this time, nodding slightly, “he should be down by then,” she mumbles to herself, quickly scribbling down something on paper, “I’ll be ready by 8, waiting for you.” She smiled.

-

“I’m so sorry.” Y/n apologied for the hundredth time. “I really feel awful. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” She sniffled over the phone.

“No, I-its fine,” Spencer spoke into his cell, trying so hard to mask the disappointment that was dripping in his voice, “I understand.” He was pacing back and forth in the break room at the office, “We couldn’t possibly know you’d be getting down with bronchitis. It’s not your fault.” Spencer says, scratching the back of his neck.

Y/n had called Saturday afternoon, the day before the duos scheduled date. She had been coughing and sniffling, saying she went to the Urgent Care near her earlier that morning because she was feeling off, and they said she had came down with a pretty bad case of bronchitis.

She kept apologizing and saying she’d make it up to Spencer as soon as she felt better.

Spencer tried not to take the date-canceling to heart. Y/n really was sick, she wouldn’t lie about that- would she? No, of course not. She wasn’t like that.

“Listen, don’t worry about it.” Spencer stopped pacing, “Just rest. That’s what you’ll need to feel better quicker.”

He heard her giggle lightly, causing him to smile, “Thanks, Doc.” He snickered at the nickname, “Hey, Spence,” he hummed in response, “I really do like you.” She said, causing his stomach to turn, “Please, don’t think I’m turning you down or anything. I really was looking forward to our date. And, I really do mean it when I say we’ll go on another one.”

He smiled to himself, putting one hand in the pocket of his jeans and swaying slightly, side to side, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

-

It had to be the right address. Spencer checked his phone for y/n’s previous message and confirmed it for the third time. He held his breath for a second, and licking his lips, he rang the doorbell again.

He felt bad that y/n had gotten bronchitis that just didn’t seem to go away for almost 5 days now. His first priority of Wednesday morning was to stop at a small Chinese spot and grab some soup.

Surprising her would be a small little thing he was hoping would make her happy. So, there he was. At y/n’s doorstep, soup in hand, ringing her bell, awaiting for her to open up.

He checked his watch again, and shuffled his feet. His stomach fluttered as soon as he heard shuffling from behind the door.

“I’m coming!” He heard her voice from inside. He played with the box of soup in hand, and bit his bottom lip anxiously. That’s when he heard a faint cry. Not her cry, though. A cry that seemed to belong to a small child. A baby, maybe. Spencer furrowed his brows, confused. “Baby, please, you have to lie down.” He heard y/n’s voice from a distance.

After some more shuffling around, the door before him opened. Y/n distractedly looked up at Spencer just to do a double take, shocked. “S-Spence? What- What are you doing here?” She asked, barely in frame of the open door.

He looked at her, unable to speak for a second. She fully came into view of him. She adjusted a small sleeping baby in her arms, the child’s head resting on her shoulder.

“I-um, I came to see you.” He spoke slowly, and quietly, “I bought soup.” He held up the box in his hands.

Y/n smiled, and just as she opened her mouth to reply, the baby she was holding began stirring causing her eyes to widen, “Come on in.” She whispered hastily, nodding to Spencer before going into her abode.

Spencer followed behind her, unsure of what exactly was happening. Questions were running through his head, but it was as if his body was working before his mind could catch up.

Y/n went straight to a small couch, and sat down, pulling her legs up, and cuddling the small child in her arms, wrapping the both of them up with a nearby shawl. Spencer’s heart warmed up at the sight, and he unknowingly smiled to himself.

He slowly walked towards the two when he heard a small but gruel cough come from the baby’s mouth.

“You’re... not the one that’s... sick?” He slowly pieced together, sitting on a couch opposing from the one y/n was on.

Y/n sighed quietly and licked her lips. Shaking her head, she stroked the small child’s hair, “No,” she looked up at Spence, “I’m not. They’re calling it bronchilitis, because he’s so young. It should be gone in about a week total, so at least 2 to 3 days left.” She swallowed hard. “It’s the first time he’s ever gotten sick, and I couldn’t just leave him with a sitter, which is why I had to stay back on our date. Im sorry,” she apologized in the midst of her ramble, “I just...” she paused before breaking eye contact with Spencer, “we don’t have anyone but each other.”

Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He watched y/n hold the baby close and his heart felt all heavy. It was a sight he didn’t think could affect him at all. But, something about a girl he was already infatuated with, being so protective and loving made him fall even deeper for her.

He just couldn’t form any words to express this to her, so he stared at the mother-son silently. That is, until the baby started coughing again. Y/n cringed at the way her son shook as he forced the cough out of his small body.

“I understand if you want to leave,” y/n spoke up, feeling Spencer’s eyes on her, “I shouldn’t have hid the fact that I’m a mother. It’s just, I know that some people would have seen it as,” she shrugged, “extra baggage, so I just refrain from saying it at all. I apologize.”

“You apologize far too much.” Spencer spoke without thinking for once, shocking himself and y/n. He stood up from his seat, and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, “Does he, uh, drink soup?” Spencer asked nodding to the child.

Y/n cracked a small smile, “Adam,” she said, “and, yes, he actually is very fond of soup.”

Spencer nodded, before finding his way into the kitchen. As quietly as possible, he emptied the soup into a bowl, and plopped a decent looking spoon into it. Filling a small glass with water, he brought it out to y/n, who was now standing, pacing with a very upset looking Adam.

Spencer’s brows furrowed in worry.

“He’s fine,” y/n assured him, “just a little fussy. Don’t worry.”

“It’s tough, huh?” Spencer spoke, not sitting down until Adam had calmed, “Being a parent, I mean.”

Y/n had seated up the small one year-old next to her on the couch. She was slowly feeding him the soup, and although he was dozed off on meds, he slurped it up happily.

“Being a single parent is something I wasn’t ready for,” y/n admits, wiping some soup of Adams chin, “but, I love this monkey so much,” she scrunched her nose to her son, who gave a very sleepy smile in return, having Spencer laugh lightly, “I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

-

Spencer answered the third FaceTime call he had received in the past 5 minutes, “Hey, sorry I was in a meeting with Hotch, is everyth-” he cut his sentence short when he saw his girlfriends face tearstreaked on screen. “Oh, my god,is everything okay? Are you hurt? Is Adam okay?” He quickly rambled, his mind thinking the worst.

Y/n sniffled, “I’m fine, we’re fine,” she quickly answered, “just, wait-“ she quickly runs into a different room and Spencer can hear Adam babbling in the background. He smiles hear the child’s voice. “Watch this.” Y/n tells Spencer. She pulls up a photo, and shows it to her boyfriend first.

It was of the two of them on New Years Eve, happily smiling. Spencer was holding a very giggly Adam, and had his free arm wrapped around y/n’s waist.

She turns the photo to Adam, “Sweetheart,” she tries to grab her sons attention, “hey, Adam,” He looks up to her wide eyed, “you know who this is, baby?” She points to herself.

Adam starts clapping and smiling, “Mama! Mama!” Y/n starts tearing up all over again.

“Yes!” Spencer encourages the child, “Hey, good job!” He gets shushed by y/n quickly.

She points to Spencer in the photo and asks Adam, yet again, “Okay, sweety, and who’s this?” She ask, already ready to cry again.

Adam starts laughing and jumping in place, “Dada! Is dada!”

Spencer gasps, covering his agape mouth with one hand. “Did you teach him that?” He asks a very ecstatic y/n who shakes her head.

“No, he just started to point to the picture all by himself and talk.” She sniffled, leaving the room her son was sitting in.

“Well, one things for sure,” a very smiley Spencer admits happily, “he’s smart, just like his Mama.” He attempts a wink, causing y/n to laugh.

-

It was early. Y/n could feel the December brisk air seeping into the apartment, making her pull her duvet up to cover herself further. She felt a tug, as her boyfriend pulled her covers back from her.

“Hey,” She grumbled, “no hogging.” She whined causing Spence to turn to face her and snicker sleepily.

The two heard their bedroom door open slowly, and the slight pitter patter of small feet tip toe in.

“He’s awake.” Spencer whispered to his girlfriend, peeping one eye open.

“Brace yourself.” Y/n groaned, just seconds before the three year old attacker jumped on the bed. He bounced and he jumped and he laughed loudly, inevitably causing him the grown ups in bed to groan and slowly sit up in bed.

“Mama, Daddy! It’s Critthy Time! It’s Critthy time, now!!” He pumped his tiny fists into the air.

Spencer smiles, still trying to open both eyes, “Did Santa even get you any gifts? You’ve been been pretty naughty lately.” Y/n groans, covering her head with a pillow.

“So many! Daddy, there’s like,” Adam puts up 3 fingers carefully, “this many boxes with my name!!”

Spencer fake gasps causing the child to have a giggle fit, “Honey, Adam has been such an angel, I’m sure all of the gifts under the tree are his.” Spence pulls the pillow off y/n’s face receiving a groan from her. “Long night?” He smirks to her, causing her to stick her tongue out. Her cheeks slightly blushed as she remembered the... eventful night the two shared.

“I’m exhausted.” She sighed, sitting up and rubbing her tired eyes. Adam jumps out of the bed and runs to the living room. Spencer can’t help but smile at the little ones pajamas.

They were a mom-dad-child set. So all three of them were wearing the same red plaid winter pajamas. Spencer and y/n had gone to sleep in just the pants of the set, so before they went out to the Christmas tree, they made sure to put on the shirts as well.

Y/n groggily made her way to the sofas, and sat by the foot of one. Spencer made his way to the kitchen to put the coffee on before he sat beside y/n, his arm draping around her shoulders, and her resting her head on his chest.

Adam came up to y/n, putting his face a mere centimeters from hers, as grabs her shoulders by his small hands. “Can I open, now? Please?” He pouted to his mother.

She laughed and kissed her nose, “Of course, monkey. Let’s see what Santa got my big boy.” Adam cheered before running to the small pile of boxes under the decently lit tree.

He help up a box, and took it to Spencer first, having him nod in indication that it does in fact have Adams name on it. Happily he plops down right in front of y/n and starts to tear open the wrapping paper. The smell of coffee starts to fill the apartment, and Spencer gives y/n a kiss on the forehead before getting up to go to the kitchen.

“Mama?” Adam whispers to his mother, who simply hums at him in response, “You know, Daddy opened presents not asking you.” He said to y/n innocently.

She furrowed her brows, ruffling his hair, “What are you talking about, Pumpkin?”

“Daddy,” he repeats, “he took a small box and hid it in his jacket. He don’t want you to know. So, you can’t get mad.” He explained, although causing more confusion to his already confused mother.

Y/n had suspicions for a few months now. She once overheard Spencer on the phone with his colleagues, saying something along the lines of yeah man, I knew she was the one a while ago. Any day now. I’m just deciding on when.

Then, she was borrowing his phone once when Adam has dropped hers down the toilet, and when she opened Safari, she saw 2 tabs open. One that had been searching for unique and special rings, and the other that was searching, children’s tuxes and suits.

But, what really put the icing on the cake for her, was when the three of them were coming home late after one Spencer’s teammates wedding. Y/n had been tired so she was resting her head, with her eyes closed. Adam was already fast asleep, snoring lightly. Spencer has put his hand on y/n’s thigh, and when her being to tired to respond, translated into she’s asleep for him, he said the words that had been tugging at y/n’s heart since then.

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

Y/n unfolds her legs, and slowly gets up, “Mama’s gonna go check on Daddy,” she informs her child, “I’ll be right back.” She kisses the top of his hair.

She goes into the kitchen to see two mugs with steaming coffee in them, but no Spencer in sight. She furrows her brows, and turns to head into the bedroom, looking for her boyfriend. Glancing over her room she fails to see him again. She frowns slightly, and turns around on her heels, almost falling over her own feet when she bumps into Spencer right behind her.

“You scared me.” She frightenedly giggles, putting a hand over her heart. “I was looking for- What... are you doing?” She narrows her eyes at him when he takes a step back, and gets down on one knee. She sees a paper and a small box in his hand.

Her breathing fastens, watching his every move, “I was planning on doing this on New Years, at Rossi’s house party,” Spencer started off, “but, my surprise seems to have been foiled.” He nervously laughs. “Y/n,” him saying her name causes her eyes to start tearing up, “You came into my life unexpectedly,” he says, “but, I decided a long time ago, that you were definitely the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” He looked over his shoulder to Adam, then back to y/n, “Both of you.” He inhaled as y/n’s bottom lip trembled, “Y/n,” she whimpers in response, biting her bottom lip, “will you do me the honor of making me your husband, and the official father of Adam?”

Y/n in the midst of her crying, sniffles and cocks her head, confused. She walks closer to Spencer, pulling him to stand up. He hands her the piece of paper and opens the small box in his hands.

A beautiful ring shone brightly in Spencers hands, and adoption papers shook in y/n’s hands.

1 very cold wedding, 2 additional siblings to Adam and a kitten later; and still, Spencer refused to tell y/n what type of coffee he would get for her when they go out.

-

I kinda like this mmm we’ll see my opinion change in a few days lol

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Night Fever

Written for my In the Dark Challenge

I’m Gonna Make You Love Me by The Temptations/The Supremes “And I’m gonna use every trick in the book. I’ll try my best to get you hooked.”

+

“I’m just getting started.”

Warnings: non/dubcon sex, sex pollen.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You meet your crush’s new date but you’re not the only one lost in yearning.

—

You usually looked forward to Tony’s parties. They were a small respite from the usual grind. You never really had holidays or vacations as an intelligence specialist so those hours of glee were the next best occasion. You’d get dressed up, do your make-up, and fantasize about the spread of hors d’oevres to be offered. 

Oh and speaking of fantasies…

Steve Rogers had just arrived. The core of many nocturnal whimsies. You couldn’t say when the crush had implanted itself within you. Had it been when you had spilled coffee on yourself and he had laughed and helped you clean it up, lightly brushing close to your chest with a napkin? Or when he had offered to carry a crate of documents to the archives for you? You really couldn’t say but you knew it was best to keep such infatuation apart from the workplace.

That didn’t ease the sting as he walked in the hall with another on his arm. There had been rumours in the office but you had chalked it up to Sam’s incessant need to talk shit. You hadn’t really believed it. Or maybe hadn’t wanted to. It was easier with her right in front of you; pale blonde hair, soft blue eyes, the figure of a ballerina. You hid your disappointment as you nodded at whatever Natasha had been talking about. The last you had understood a word it was her usual rant about her field gear.

Then he approached you, none so shy about the model at his side. You did your best to smile and remain poised. Why next to this woman, you must have seemed a possum in a skirt. Natasha took the initiative as she always did and you were saved from an awkward and delayed greeting.

“I was wondering if you were ever gonna remember us,” Nat teased, “So, who’s the lady?”

“Oh, well, you’re actually going to laugh at this,” He gave his pristine smile and you locked your knees as you tried not to melt into a puddle. “Um, Natasha,” He gestured to the woman known as the Black Widow before waving to his blonde escort, “This is Natasha.”

Natasha laughed. Loudly. Then offered her hand to the taller, skinnier blonde. You watched, awaiting and dreading your turn to feign acceptance. Enough. It’s just a crush. If anything this would help you get over it.

The new Natasha shook the old Natasha’s hand and then Steve turned to you. “And this the only original of the bunch, Y/N.” He introduced you, “She keeps our whole team from walking headfirst into trouble. Not that we don’t anyways.”

You gave your best fake laugh and shook Natasha’s hand in kind. A nice to meet you and your usual social courtesy. Nothing more.

As the three began to chatter as if it wasn’t all so awkward, you excused yourself to the bathroom and hid in there as you gathered your wits. Stop being a child. You should be happy for him. You sighed at yourself in the mirror and pushed away from the counter. You should get a drink.

You strode back out to the soiree and briskly swiped a champagne flute off a server’s tray. You retreated the wall furthest from Steve and sipped your elixir. This would help you forget about him and your foolish heart. God, you could be so stupid.

You were down to your last mouthful and tossed it back without grace. You covered your mouth as the bubbles threatened to escape and almost let out the hideous belch as a deep voice surprised you.

“I thought you liked these stupid things,” Bucky crossed his arms as he stepped up next to you, the fabric of his jacket strained across his shoulders.. You rarely saw him at these parties. Not that he didn’t attend, only that he made himself scarce.

“I’m tired,” You lied, “Bad timing I guess…been working.”

“Ah,” He replied rather unconvinced of your fib, “Too many strangers.”

“Mm-hmm,” You agreed as a server offered to take your empty glass.

“So you met her?” You glanced over at Bucky’s pointed question but didn’t need to ask who he meant.

“She’s nice,” You looked back to the room of tuxedos and gowns, “Pretty.”

“Needy,” Bucky added, “You know I was with him when he met her. Our usual night out. Just us two. We go to a bar, a couple of drinks, shoot the shit…” He lowered his arms as he stepped closer, his eyes scanning the crowd as he spoke without looking at you. “She came over and introduced herself. Pretended not to know who he was.” He cleared his throat and chuckled darkly, “She’s not a very good actor but Steve’s a bit of a dupe with pretty dames.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say but he seemingly didn’t need encouragement. It was rare that the former Winter Soldier was so talkative. You could smell the whiskey as he stepped closer and his arm pressed to your shoulder.

“Barely see him outside missions these last two months. Whenever we are together, she’s calling him and he’s all too eager to run at her beck and call.” His voice dripped with irritation. “I’d tell him she’s been texting me too but I don’t think he’d believe me.”

You turned to him with wide eyes. Gossip at the lips of the last person you would expect it from. You were stunned as in your mind Natasha had been in the first chapter of her very own once upon a time. You shrugged and swallowed back your envious satisfaction. 

“About what?” You wondered lightly.

“I don’t really pay much attention. Doesn’t say anything interesting.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll just wait for Steve to get his head out of his ass. I hate being the one to say ‘I told you so’.”

“You’re very valiant,” You scoffed. “Maybe a little bitter too.”

“And what about you?” He said. “Hiding along the wall and drinking…bitter?”

“No,” You answered a bit too quickly. “I don’t care about Steve that way.”

“Sure,” He commented nonchalantly. He let the silence thicken to tension as he eyed you and you tried to ignore him. He finally spoke again. “So what do you say I grab you something a bit stronger than champagne? We can mope together.”

“I’m not moping,” You insisted.

“Okay,” He grinned as he stepped away casually, “You like whiskey?” The question was rhetorical as he strutted to the bar and you huffed at his taunting back. How on earth did you get stuck in the corner with the resident pariah?

He returned, two tumblers in hand. He held one out to you and you stared at it a moment before accepting. You weren’t one too be unkind and he was being unusually so. You weren’t going to enjoy the rare moment with a tolerable Winter Soldier. You took the glass and raised it to your lips. It was strong.

“Jesus, did you get any mixer?” You crinkled your nose.

“Yes, but it’s a double,” He swigged without flinching from his own. “Come on. Maybe you’ll bust out some of your dance moves tonight. It makes these things a little less boring.”

“My dance moves?” You lifted a brow and lowered your glass. His eyes followed your hand before returning to your face.

“You’re usually the life of the party.” He mused.

“I am?” You tilted your head.

“Well, to me, at least,” He replied as he took another drink and you mustered up the courage to do the same. Your throat burned as you gulped the alcohol but there was an unexpected sweetness too. You sipped silently as you wondered at his cryptic remark. How often had he watched you at these parties?

“Why did you never join in?” You asked. “Dancing, I mean.”

“Not much of a dancer anymore. My moves haven’t aged well.” He chuckled.

“Ah,” You nodded and took another drink as you eyes washed over the room. “Afraid to throw out your hip, old man?”

“That too,” He joked and you smiled at the uncharacteristic humor in his tone.

Your lips quickly fell as you spotted Steve and his statuesque amour. You held back a sigh and drank some more. You’d need another glass if you were going to make it through the night.

—

You were just about finished your second whiskey thanks to Bucky. With alcohol in your veins and shared resent, you had spent well over an hour with the brooding super soldier. He wasn’t too bad to be around when he wasn’t staring cryptically into the distance.

Your cheeks were hot from the tipsiness setting in, though you could say it was closer to drunkenness. You fanned yourself as the sweat began to build on your forehead and along your neck. 

“You okay?” Bucky asked as you glanced around. You brushed past him and set your empty glass on a tall table. “Y/N?”

You turned back to him. He smirked as he reached past you and set his glass down besides yours. He was unbearably close. The flames licked down your arms and legs. It was unnatural. You had never felt like this. It was like a panic attack but instead of feeling like your chest was filled with rocks, your pussy was alight.

“I gotta-” You choked as you tried to step past him, “I gotta go.”

You pushed past him and the feel of his body against you made you whimper. You clattered on your heels through the crowd and toward the door. You tripped on the skirt of another woman and reached out to catch yourself. A hand closed around your forearm and swung you around swiftly.

“Leaving so soon?” Steve asked as he clung to you. His touch was molten against your skin.

“I–I–” If he didn’t let go you were going to climb him like a spider monkey. Your entire being told you to devour him. You pulled away and panted. “Yeah, I…I forgot I left my stove on.”

You ran out at the flimsy excuse and darted down the hallway. You were jittery, frantic, as the unexplained and overwhelming need overtook you. What was going on? Your head was spinning as you slid to a stop. You hadn’t even been paying attention to where you were going.

You swore and leaned against the wall. It was so nice and cool. You turned and stretched your arms against it as you caught your breath. You stayed like that until the wall began to absorb your body heat.

“Hey,” Bucky scared you again as you parted from the wall. “Where are you off to?”

“Trying to get out of here,” You peered down to the other end of the hall behind you. “Did you…follow me?”

“Uh, yeah, you kinda left in a hurry,” He explained, “Kinda concerning when someone runs away like they saw a ghost.”

“I’m fine, I just need to go home.” You touched your stomach and winced as it was a little too close to your pelvis. “I think I drank too much.”

“How about some fresh air?” He ventured, “Might help clear your mind.”

You looked at him warily. You could barely think as the heat stoked once more. Your dress clung to you and your scalp was itchy with sweat. And your pelvis! It hurt so bad. A yearning so deep and carnal it felt as if your bones would snap.

“Sure, sure,” You replied impatiently, “God, I’m hot.”

“This way,” He waved you to the far end of the hall, just to the left and a quick right,“ He directed you from behind. He was few steps back yet it felt like he was almost on top of you. Gosh, that though made your thighs thrum. "Right here.”

You stopped and turned back as he pointed to the small alcove you had just passed. A metal door marked ‘roof’ which he easily pulled open. “The censor on this busted a while back. They still haven’t fixed the alarm.”

“Hmm,” You grumbled as he motioned you ahead of him. “I take it this is you’re usual hiding spot, then.”

“One of them,” He followed closer this time and you could feel your ass at the same height as his eyes as you climbed. “Sometimes I’d rather catch the sunset than Tony’s latest shit-eating toast.”

“As much a cynic as expected,” you opened the door at the top of the stairs and the night air washed over you as you stepped out in the moonlight.

You carefully descended the single step from the door and inhaled deeply. You heard Bucky behind you as the door closed with a clang and he hopped down heavily. It was the highest peak of the tower, the jet pad on the lower crown of Stark Tower. Here there was little but a few exhaust fans and solar panel.

You shook out your arms as the evening chill did nothing to cool you. If anything, it made you feel hotter. You grasped your skirt and squeezed shut your eyes as you tried to will away the persistence. Your chest rose and fell as your heart clamoured.

You felt something against your forehead and opened your eyes to find Bucky’s hand on your forehead. You stepped back in shock and he let his hand fall. “You got a fever or something?” He didn’t sound as concerned as his words would have him seem. “Hot and bothered, are we?” The tone of his voice was deeper; sinister.

His metal hand shot forward and caught yours as you began to back away. “W-what?”

“I hadn’t planned on using it tonight,” He drew you closer as your heels skidded beneath your feet, “I thought maybe I could get it in your coffee or just a hint in that little lip balm you keep in your purse. I had wanted to wait but…some things just align all at once.”

“What are you talking about?” You were in a panic between the mystery of his words and whatever was driving your biology to madness.

“I may have used too much. It’s strong, isn’t it?” He smirked as he brought you flush against him and rested his hands on your ass. You were trembling as you gripped his forearms. You tried to push him away but were too weak as your body told you to grab on tighter. “You’re resisting it quite well but that won’t last.”

“What did you do to me?” You groaned and rubbed your thighs together desperately.

“There are stimulants used in interrogations. Used to cause extreme reactions to elicit answers from captured spies. Some make you terribly itchy to the point of scratching through your skin. Others cause hallucinations to the point that one would claw their eyes out. But this one is often used on missions when one needs to interlope quickly.” He leaned in, his nose tickled your temple and he pressed his lips to your cheekbones. He pushed closer and whispered in your ear. “This one sends ones baser desires into overdrive. Like adrenaline for your hormones.”

“Why?” You gasped, unable to release him. Your body pressed into his without permission and his fingers kneaded your ass hungrily.

“You’re not the only one with a crush,” He slithered as he bent and nuzzled into your neck.

His left hand slipped down your thigh and around to the front. He traced along the fabric of your skirt and cupped your vee. He pressed until you were squirming, bucking against him at the slightest friction. He forced his fingers between your legs and began to roughly stroke you through your dress. He had barely touched you and already you had soaked through your panties.

You could do nothing but cling to him. Your body, despite the whirlwind of your mind, was ravenous for any touch; his touch. His hand moved against you roughly as he held you in place. Your entire figure quaked as he teased you through your dress. You threw your head back wildly as your breath picked up. The flurry of sparks blooming in your loins was too much. It grew to sharp strikes along your flesh. 

Your orgasmed ripped from you as Bucky growled into your throat. You shuddered as his hand slowed and you would’ve toppled over if he wasn’t holding onto you. The edges of your vision were hazy, the stars and distant lights of the city below streaked through the dark like smudged paint.

You planted your feet as your heels threatened to wobble beneath your soles. You reached down to Bucky’s hand and tried to push it away. Despite the release, you still felt an indefatigable hunger. He wove his fingers through yours and held you as if in a dance; his other hand still firmly on your ass.

“I know you’re not done so soon,” He taunted, “Why, you’re still burning up.”

“Ohhhh,” You almost roared as he swayed your body against yours, “Why–It hurts.”

He held you upright as your legs turned to jelly and you were as good as putty in his hands. “I know, I know,” He cooed, “I can help you.” He shushed you as you began to whine.

You shook your head but tightened your grip on his hand. You pushed your body against his as you wiggled, desperate for any sort of friction. He let go of your hand and ran his fingers down your side an to your thigh. He leaned down as he lifted your leg and hooked it around him. You latched onto his shoulder to balance yourself.

“That’s it,” He said, “Just like that.”

He slid your skirt over your knee until it bunched around your pelvis. His metal hand grazed the front of your panties, your juices coated them entirely. He grabbed side of the cotton thong and tore it swiftly. He let the fabric fall beneath you and his fingers probed your folds without delay. You squeaked and shivered at his touch.

He dipped his fingers inside and you bit your lip against the cry. It felt so good and yet not enough. He curled his fingers and pressed his thumb to your clit. The spasm it sent through you almost had you in pieces. You slung your arms around his neck as you pushed yourself closer to him and buried your face against his lapel. Electricity flowed through you and a sudden shock drained all the strength from you. You moaned as another orgasm spiked and your saliva trickled onto his suit as you smushed your lips against him.

“Steve’s white bread,” Bucky said as he removed his hand. His arm stirred between you as he flicked open the button of his fly and you heard the descent of his zipper. “He’d never fuck you like this…” You looked down as he pulled out his cock and you muttered as you tried to fight the urge to grab him yourself. “You do want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

“N-n-n…” You couldn’t get the word out as your leg wrapped around him tighter. “I n-n-need it.” You dropped and arm and snaked your fingers between your bodies until they were at your clit.

“Yeah?” He gave a sultry chuckle and stroked his cock as he bent his knees.

He aligned himself with your entrance before he grabbed your leg and held it around him. He pushed just his head inside and you squirmed. Your head lolled back and forth as gibberish spewed from your lips. 

“Mmmmm–more!” You dug your nails into his shoulders and mewed pathetically. “Please.”

He took it an inch at a time, your knee bent around his hand as you leaned into him. He was big and it seemed to take forever. When he was at his limit you purred, your mouth hanging open as you panted hungrily. He pulled back and you whined, your hand grasping at his hair. He chuckled and pushed back in, thrusting slowly as you trembled helplessly. You rocked your pelvis eagerly, trying to set the pace but he easily kept his motion. Your walls pulsed around his cock but you quivered.

“More?” He asked and you looked up to nod at him frantically. Your eyes bulged as your words scrambled without sense. His other hand slid down your thigh and he lifted you all at once. He let you sink down onto him, moving his hips as he lingered inside. “Shit. So fucking hot.”

His hands slipped down to your ass and he dragged you up the length of his cock. You gripped his shoulders tightly as you squeezed him between your thighs and followed his motion. You bounced up and down on him, no restraint left as you quickly took the reins from him. It wasn’t about him, the night sky, the whiskey, or even you. It was your body. You needed it so bad. It hurt and you couldn’t think straight. All that was in your mind was the way he plunged into you so snugly with each thrust.

The skirt of your dress hung over his hands, the fabric flapping with each rise and fall of your pelvis. You let your head loll back as you rode Bucky eagerly. The ache of your thighs wasn’t enough to stop you as you only went faster and faster. He brought a hand up and tugged on the strap of your gown until it snapped. You didn’t even care as he did the same to your bra and shimmied both past your breast. His thumb teased your nipple as you rutted against him, your flesh squelched against his with your arousal.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh,” You murmured as you moved your pelvis in sharper thrusts. You couldn’t get enough. “Gawwwwwwd,” You sputtered and succumbed to the tide that washed over you. The orgasm added to the heat of your body and piqued with a shower of embers along your flesh. “W-w-w-why?” You asked as you slowed and the twinge remained. “W-w-why w-won’t it s-stop?”

“Oh, we’re not even close to done,” He snarled and lowered you back to your feet. He pulled out of you abruptly and you sobbed. “Turn around.” He directed you as he untangled himself from your arms. “Come on.” He pushed your shoulders so that you were forced to obey. He lifted your skirt and gather it above your ass. “Bend over.”

You were a bit too eager to listen. You almost got head rush as you leaned forward, the air cold on your swollen pussy. You shook and wiggled your ass as you felt his cock against it and he spanked. You exclaimed and hung your head.

This time he impaled you in one stroke. You gasped as he bottomed out and you held onto your knees to keep from falling. He bent over you and his hand cupped your breasts as he pulled you up to stand straight. He kept you flush against him as he began to thrust into you from behind.

“Is this what you wanted him to do to you? Huh?” He grunted in your ear. “You slut.” His motion grew harder with each word. “You wanna be Captain America’s slut?” He tweaked your nipples and the sensation met that in your pelvis and another orgasm tore through you. “I think you like being mine better, don’t you?”

“Mmmpmmm,” You moaned as your eyes rolled back.

The orgasms were starting to rush over you with only seconds between and with each, you only grew more senseless. Your feet were barely on the ground as he fucked you. A doll in his arms to play with. You clawed at the side of his pants as he pounded into you, gripping the fabric as his pace stuttered and he gave several long strokes. You felt the hot river flowing within you as he gave a loud grunt. He slowed and finally stopped, your body twitched and spasmed as he held you up.

You arched your back and clenched around his cock. His metal hand went to your throat as he pushed your head up. He leaned down and his lips brushed along your cheekbone as he spoke. “Don’t you worry,” His voice sent a thrill through you, smothering that within which told you it was wrong, “I’m just getting started.”

+

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