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bensolosbluesaber · 2 years

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Someone Like You: Part 1 (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, and Jake Lockley x Avengers f!reader)

Summary: When Moon Knight is captured, there is only one Avenger with the right powers to save them. You. Marc might hate you, but when his life is on the line that no longer matters. ~3,100 words

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Adventure I guess idk

Pairings: Primarily Marc Spector x f!reader, Jake Lockley x f!reader, Steven Grant x f!reader

Warnings: DID mentions and lots of them, canon typical violence, blood and injuries, Marc calls reader a bitch and they fight but in a we’re both superheroes way, generally Marc is an ass for this part so proceed with caution, mentions of childhood trauma/abuse, disassociation and nightmares

A/N: I represented DID in this fic in a way similar to the show, or at least that was my intention. Please understand this is fictionalized and dramatized, but also please tell me if there are errors. Look, this was supposed to be more plotty, but I just wanted to get to the hurt/comfort part and didn’t feel like writing a big action sequence, so the plot isn’t that complicated. Also Nat is alive for this, and Bruce, Buck, and Sam all make an appearance:)

Part 2: Coming Soon

“We need you. Now!”

Natasha’s face is flushed and her eyes wide. She’s flustered.

Natasha Romanoff is never flustered, and that is the first sign that something is well and truly wrong. Sign two? That she is asking for you now when you had just used your powers yesterday. You are already exhausted, overexerted, utterly drained. Today is supposed to be a time to recharge.

But Natasha is so uncharacteristically panicked that you roll off the couch to your feet and stumble after her without a second thought.

“It’s Moon Knight,” she explains as you hurry down the hallway.

“You found him? Them?” You correct yourself quickly.

Marc, Steven, and Jake had been missing for days. They did that frequently, just disappeared off on some mission for Khonshu. But Steven always checked in with the Avengers sooner rather than later. He hadn’t this time, and that worried the team, apparently with good reason.

“Sort of.” Nat stops outside of a closed door and turns to you. Her lips are pressed together with displeasure. “It’s not fair to ask you this, but-“

“Oh,” you exhale slowly.

The pieces finally come together.

“You’re the only one with the skills to do it.”

You curse under your breath. Not only are you exhausted, but you and the Moon Knight system have a long-running… well it wasn’t exactly hatred, but you certainly weren’t friends.

For no apparent reason, all three alters avoided you like the plague. Your best guess is that they learned about your particular power set and wanted to stay far away it. Most people did, which was ridiculous because you had complete control of your powers and no desire to use them on your coworkers anyway. And frankly it stung. You had privately harbored a small crush on the handsome trio from the first time you met Marc, a crush that was clearly not returned.

All that was inconsequential now. Would they be pissed about this invasion? They certainly would, but at least they would be alive.

You can tell it’s Marc fronting by the tension carried in his forehead. His eyes dart around wildly as he slumps against a wall and slides to the ground. Obviously, he is in the midst of making his own escape even as you are attempting an extraction.

“Marc!” You hurry to his side and kneel down.

His deep brown eyes finally focus on you. He blinks once, then twice. The softness you saw for just a moment is replaced with an icy darkness.

“The fuck are you doing here?” He growls, slurs really.

The man has to be drugged out of his mind. His eyes can’t focus on you for more than a second.

“Where’s Steven?” His voice lowers as he looks behind you and began whipping his head back and forth violently. “Where’s Steven? Steven!”

His deep voice, heavy with that Chicago accent, cracks over the name of his alter. “I’ll help you find him, Marc,” you reassure gently and hold out a hand. The rules here are different, so even though you have no idea how you are going to find Steven Grant, you are trying to be reassuring.

Marc stares at the offered hand blankly.

“Jake?” He whispers. “I can’t hear Jake. I can’t hear Jake! I can’t… I… Steven? Jake?”

You reach for him and grasp his forearms, guiding him to a standing position. He stumbles into you.

“I’m getting you out of here, Marc. Come on.”

“No!” His voice is suddenly clear, and he shoves you backwards. The push sends you stumbling into a wall with a heavy thud. “Not without them!”

The impact actually hurts. You are so overtaxed that you are experiencing pain in an environment where you should have total control. This is bad. This is really bad.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Marc’s is becoming more lucid, his eyes filling with rage as he realizes what is happening. He rounds on you with an accusing finger extended. “I know where I am, and I don’t want you here!”

His finger jabs your shoulder painfully, and any pity you might have felt disappears. You grab his wrist, and start to lock out his arm. He’s wise to the technique and tries kicking your leg out from beneath you. You side step easily, but his fist finds your nose and throws you off balance.

Pain shoots through the back of your head as it smacks against ceramic tile floor.

Something warm is on your face. You raise a hand to touch it, and when you pull your hand back your fingers are stained crimson. Blood. This has never happened before. You’re starting to have serious doubts about this mission.

“Get out of my fucking head!” Marc stands over you and shouts, but you hardly hear him. You are solely focused on the sticky red stain on your hands. You are bleeding. You shift your gaze to Marc. Blood. Marc.

“Shit,” you curse.

You look around, taking in the elaborate hallway structure with doors on either side. You’d walked through a dozen hallways just like this one to find Marc. The organization of the space is masterful, unlike any you had ever seen. People could live here. People do live here. Kind of. Then it hits you, a realization that should have been clear from the beginning.

The blood and pain has nothing to do with your strength. Even weakened you would have control enough to keep yourself from injury. No, this isn’t about the strength of your mind at all. It’s about the strength of theirs.

Natasha, Sam, Bucky, and Bruce hold vigil around the bed where the Moon Knight system lays unconscious. Nat smooths a hand over your upper back. Your eyes are shut and shifting rapidly under your eyelids. You sit straight backed beside the unconscious man with your palm pressed to his forehead and fingers tangling in his dark curls.

“How did this even happen?” Sam demands. “Isn’t the bird thing supposed to keep him safe?”

A chilly wind whips through the room.

“I think he’s listening,” Bruce mutters. “And I think he did his best. Some other god did this. Khonshu defeated him, but not in time to keep this from happening.”

“How do you know this? Can you talk to the bird thing?” Sam asks, purposefully goading Khonshu.

“Thor can.”

A heavy silence settles over the room.

“She just mind-walked yesterday,” Bucky growls and stands so he can pace out his nervous energy. “And this mind is hardly a simple one. She’s going to come out a disaster…” he trails off.

If she comes out at all. That’s what he was going to say, but he doesn’t want to so much as speak the terrible words into existence.

But you hadn’t even hesitated to take the dive, to walk into the mind of Marc, Steven, and Jake even knowing it could kill you.

Marc is still staring down at you while you lay back on the ground, and there is no denying that he is intimidating. He’s dressed in jeans and a dark shirt, the same outfit he always wears in the real world. That fascinates you, but there’s no time to unpack what it means right now.

“Marc,” you say his name softly. “Nat sent me here to wake you up. You’ve been unconscious for days. Kate and Clint only just found you a few hours-“

“I don��t want you here.”

“Do you think I enjoy this, Spector?” There is no anger in your voice as you stand, putting a few feet between the angry man and yourself. You are resigned to his hatred. “You think it’s fun popping into people’s heads? I’m more than aware of how violating it is, but you have to come out of this and soon, and we didn’t see a better option. So please just let me wake you up and you can go back to hating me.”

Marc surveys you for a long moment. He rolls his wrist and pops his neck.

“Just get out,” he snarls. “I‘ll find Steven and Jake and we’ll get out ourselves.”

He’ll find them? The questions sticks in your mind for a moment before annoyance takes priority over the curiosity. You aren’t going to just ‘get out.’

You are opening your mouth to say as much when a heavy body slams into you from the side, tackling you to the floor so hard it knocks the breath from your lungs. You’re so banged up. These injuries better not be on your physical body too.

A deep voice above you is spewing curses in Spanish and shouting something at Marc. Your ears ring too loud to hear whoever this newcomer is.

“Let’s go, hermosa.” The man on top of you stands and drags you to your feet. “Run!”

And you do. You don’t even question who this other person is or why you’re running. You simply take off in a sprint after him. The newcomer wears a jacket and a flat cap, but that’s all you can make out. That and you have finally realized where you are. Well, you knew where you were the whole time, but now you are realizing just what exactly it is.

A psychiatric ward. But not the clean, modern type. It is the horrific, decrepit, horror-movie type. Brick walls that are crumbling, smeared with a dark liquid you assume is blood. Dimly lit hallways. Water dripping from pipes and pooling dangerously on the tile floor. This is their mind?

Marc grabs your arm and yanks you into a room. He slams the door shut behind you and immediately rounds on the stranger.

“What the fuck Jake!”

Jake? You know that name. Jake Lockley. He is the alter none of the Avengers have met, just heard of. It’s the same body and the same face as he turns to you. But his expression is less emotional than Marc’s. Where Marc is all rage, Jake seems to possess a more muted curiosity about your presence. He blinks at you, then turns to Marc.

“Whoever trapped us here Khonshu took care of. But the dangers they planted in the headspace are still very real,” Jake explains as he peeks out of the small, dirty window to check the halls for danger.

“Quite the academic you are,” Marc remarks dryly and crosses his arms.

“Steven is just a few hallways away. He can explain this all much better.” Jake pulls off his hat to run a hand through his curls.

“Steven’s okay?” Marc’s voice is the softest you have ever heard. “He’s safe?”

“Safe enough and waiting for us. Then we can figure out how to wake ourself up.” Jake glances at you. “You’re the mind reader girl.”

You scoff. “I call it mind walking, but sure, I’m the mind reader girl.”

“Oh you pedantic bitch,” Marc snaps, and the word stings. Even Jake seems shocked at the venom in Marc’s tone. “Sorry we used the wrong term while you invade our mind. Is there really a fucking difference?”

He doesn’t want an answer, but you want to give one.

“Yes, you dense ass!” You wish you could think of a better insult. “Mind walking literally knocks me out. My consciousness doesn’t just touch yours and pick up some things, it’s inside of yours. Your mind is all around me. I can access just about any part of someone’s mind when I mind walk, even parts they don’t know about.”

“And you wonder why no one wants to be around you.”

Somehow that’s worse than being called a bitch. Embarrassingly, you find yourself blinking back tears. You still remember the days you thought you could befriend him, when you had liked him. You think that in the past-tense as if that crush is long past. It isn’t.

“Be nice,” Jake mutters as he finally shakes off his stunned look.

“You know,” Marc starts, clearly ignoring Jake. “You can go. We’ll be back to the real world in no time. We don’t need you meddling around with our head.”

You don’t have to explain that though, because before you can gather your thoughts Jake interrupts, “Stay. I think we’ll need your powers.”

As much as you want to go you can’t. That’s the problem with entering the unconscious mind - it’s nearly impossible to get out without bringing the other person with you. If you were at full strength it might be doable. But not now. Now your fate is tied to Moon Knight.

“We don’t-“ Marc starts.

Jake shoots him a look and puts his hat back on.

“Better to be safe. I think the hallway’s clear. Let’s get Steven and fix this.”

You follow Jake, Marc not far behind. Your trio moves silently but quickly as Jake leads you into another dingy room.

“Steven!” Marc pushes past you and falls to his knees beside Steven. This alter you had met briefly on one occasion. He had been nicer than Marc, but he still kept you at arm’s length.

Right now blood drips from a gash across Steven’s forehead, matting his messy curls to his head. He wears a loose patterned button down shirt and a jacket with light colored pants. You look over at Jake in his dark jacket with an intricately embroidered collar, white dress shirt, and flat cap. Marc, as you had noticed earlier, is wearing his usual attire. Which means this must be how Jake and Steven would dress when they front.

From a strictly academic perspective, it was fascinating. You’d never mind walked into someone with such a complex psychological condition. Each alter had a physical form in their headspace, and it seemed to be like an elaborately structured home for the three alters. Most minds were just a space, some more organized and complicated than others, but certainly none as incredible as this.

“What happened?” Marc’s question interrupts your thoughts.

“Hecca priests,” Steven murmurs in that rich British accent. “Some version of them at least. It’s Set, the sun god. He trapped us in our own mind, messed with it.”

“But this isn’t our headspace,” Marc protests.

It is unnerving to stand in a room with three men who both look the same and entirely different. Steven looks exhausted; he’s definitely hurt. Marc is hunched over, his back to you, but you hear worry in his voice. Jake’s hands are tucked in his pockets while he leans against a wall and tries to act like he isn’t staring at you.

You try to follow the conversation. Jake strolls over to whisper an explanation.

“Normally we’re in a mental ward, but clean and white with rooms of memories and no monsters. It’s rather relaxing.”

“It is our headspace though,” Steven answers Marc. “Just twisted by a vengeful god. Wonder who got us involved with those again?”

He fixes Marc with a pointed and amused glare.

“Using our own headspace as a prison,” Marc ponders the explanation and ignores Steven’s snide comment. “It is smart.”

Steven’s unfocused gaze catches on you then.

“You’re here?”

Marc whips his gaze around to you too like he’d forgotten your presence.

There’s something accusing in his eyes. No, maybe it’s not accusing. Distrustful. Does he think you are going to hurt Steven? Or does he not want them to be seen so vulnerable?

“Yes,” you answer simply. There really is nothing else to say.

“Good. Because I think we need you to wake us up.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Marc jumps in, shooting you a look that clearly says to keep quiet. “When we died, we got out fine on our own.”

Steven laughs. “Mate, Osiris loved our little heart to heart and brought us back to life. This is totally different.”

“How?”

“Well for one, we aren’t dead.” It’s Jake’s turn to argue with Marc.

“I can wake you up now, I think,” you offer.

“Alright-“ Steven starts to accept.

“Fuck off!” Marc interrupts.

That’s it. You have had it with his attitude.

“What did I do to you?” You demand, advancing on Marc who stands to face you and squares his shoulders. “I’m trying to help you! I’m your teammate! I’ve never been anything but kind while you quite literally pretend I don’t exist. Last week, I tried to talk to you at dinner, and you acted like you couldn’t hear me. When I walk into a room you leave. So what is it, Spector? My powers? They are completely under control. I just want you to not die today, so let me fucking help!”

“I don’t need you!” Marc closes the space between your bodies. “You are- you-“ He sputters.

“Marc doesn’t want someone like you seeing inside our head,” Steven jumps in much to Marc’s chagrin.

“Shut up, Steven.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone kind, sweet. A potential love interest.”

“Shut up, Steven!” Marc bites out again

“Well it’s true ‘innit?”

A potential what??

“Not that this isn’t fun and well overdue, but the longer we’re trapped here, the harder it will be to get back.” Jake is the voice of reason for once.

He’s right. There’s a time to unpack Marc’s psyche, and it, ironically, is not right now.

“Let’s vote,” Steven wipes a drip of blood from his brow. “All in favor of letting her help.”

Jake and Steven raise their hands. Then slowly, miraculously, Marc raises his too.

“Unanimous. Brilliant! What do we do?”

In a lesser mind, you would have merely snapped your fingers, maybe literally, and woken both of you up easily. That isn’t going to work here. Their mind is complicated already, made even more so by a third party holding it hostage. Plus you are, as your trembling legs remind you, exhausted.

You crouch down beside Steven and take his hand then reach for Jake’s. He takes it and grasps Marc’s hand who completes the circle.

“Think about waking up in the morning,” you say quietly as you shut your eyes and channel the last dredges of your strength even as you draw on theirs. “What do you do? What’s your alarm sound like? Think about pulling the covers back. Think about opening your eyes to the morning sun. Think about the best parts of being alive, the things you feel - really feel - when you have the body, the parts of the world that are most real. The crunch of waffles. The smell of rain.” You are talking to yourself now. Or maybe thinking. It’s hard to tell the difference between mind and reality. Maybe there is no difference.

A warm mug of tea. The soft fur of a cat. Soft white wrappings. The smell of new books. Old books. Light falling across a museum exhibit. Fluffy pillows soft beneath your head. The quiet crunch of leather gloves folding around a steering wheel. Desert sands.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake-

You jerk forward off the chair, catching yourself weakly against the mattress before any of the Avengers can get to you. Bucky slides down to the floor beside you.

“Are you okay?” He demands urgently, and the worry is prominent in his voice.

“Yeah,” you rasp and use Bucky to pull yourself up.

“He’s waking up too.” Nat breathes an audible sigh of relief.

You don’t want to see Marc. Or Steven or Jake. And the after effects of mind walking are coming. Marc didn’t develop DID from a happy childhood, which means things are about to get bad for you.

You assure Bucky and Sam that you are alright, that you want to be alone this time, and hurry out of the room, barely making it to your room as pain flares in your skull. You crumple onto your bed and don’t even have time to cover yourself in blankets before it begins.

A/N: Part 2 will be so angsty and fluffy and wonderful. It is written and just needs edited, so it will be out soon!

EDIT: Part 2

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pinkeoni · 1 year

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Thoughts on the time jump:

This is a relevant conversation today, so I thought I would throw in my two cents (this isn’t a targeted post btw, just speaking thoughts aloud)

I like the time jump. It not only allows for darker and more mature plotlines, but it allows for a new dynamic with the characters. There is already a timejump at the beginning of each season for this reason, this would just be the most severe.

I can’t imagine the painting lie reveal happening before the time jump. It is too dramatic of a plot point that begins to move too many pieces too early in the game. I also don’t think it’s unrealistic to keep it unresolved for two years, gay bitches be bottling shit up.

For the same reasons as listed above I can’t imagine Max waking up pre-time jump either. It would be a huge reversal way too early. Yes leaving her in a coma for two years feels long but thats how I see it happening. This is likely a plotpoint that will happen midseason or later.

Milkvan will likely break up pre-time jump.

J*ncy will break up pre-time jump. This is the likely conclusion after having that much unresolved conflict left open at the end of last season— if they kept them together after that it would feel like a cop out. Them getting back together post-time jump I’m less clear on but open to.

Contrary to the above bullet, St*ncy will not get together post J*ncy breakup, I don’t see their love triangle as a case where one couple is going to win, unlike the Willelmike one.

Byler will not be established pre-time jump. They are milking the shit out of that slow burn cow.

I do think that Mike’s sexuality will be revealed at least to the audience pre-time jump. He won’t come out or anything but there will be a huge signifier. Lettergate Either way I think that the direction that milkvan and subsequently Byler will be heading in should be set up in episode one.

I feel like I have a different idea than most on exactly how post-apocalyptic Hawkins will actually be post-time jump. I don’t imagine democreatures roaming in the streets, Henry would have to regain strength in order to do that, which I imagine will be an important plot point post-time jump. I also think that businesses and schools would still be operating. I do think that the particles will have an effect on the environment and that the town will be placed under martial law, however. There will still be plenty of damage and livlihoods loss but usually in situations like these people attempt to maintain normalcy as much as possible. (Which would reflect real world events as well ergo pandemic)

Time jump will likely happen either between episode one and two or a little bit into episode two. Anything after could be done but would feel extremely late to me.

As stated with the first bullet, characters are usually a little different after a time jump and I imagine this will be no different. I think that if explained well and realistic this is a good and exciting thing. But the character who is going to be acting the most different post-time jump is Will.

#please do not see as targeted if i counter an opinion you have #but also feel free to disagree!#this is just how i see things in my little head #byler #anti milkvan #anti j*ncy

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redbullcateringfiction · 4 months

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Chapter 8 -

Cantata

Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?

F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn

Eight chapter below the cut or click here for AO3

Click here for the previous chapter on Tumblr, and click here for a list of all chapters

(Total: 34872 words thus far)

Where I wander: An opinion by the ‘bitch’

Thursday, March 12th, 2021 6:20 GMT

Author: Arabella Lazaar

Edited by: Jeffrey Martens and Shane Coughlan

Editor’s note, March 12th, 2021: Arabella Lazaar is the former partner of Irish rock band Four Odd Bottles singer Cathal Lynch. Their 3 year relationship was not public knowledge until October 13th, 2019.

If I were to recall every moment during our relationship, I would not question where I went wrong.

Formula 1 is filled with huge personalities and names. There’s no doubt many fans could tell you how they imagine their favorite drivers’ to be, and I can assure you they would be 90% correct. Being in Formula 1 requires being surrounded by glass walls at all times. Your most intimate self is constantly on display. This was something I never enjoyed. Afterall, I suffer from agoraphobia. Seeing into the distance, and seeing the crowds of people is terrifying. I have forced myself to be in these situations. In God’s name, why?

I’ve always loved formula racing, but I never thought I could be an integral part of it. I never had the skills nor talent to be a driver or engineer. I, however, think I have quite the head on my shoulders. Micromanaging people and information became second nature to me. It’s a natural skill that one develops when their anxiety tells them to avoid everyone and everything. So, I saw an opportunity in Formula 1, and put my effort into joining a team. I set aside every fear I have to put my brilliance on the table instead.

During that process, I learned that if I am constantly moving (as it is a job requirement), and hiding behind those big personalities, those glass walls become a comfort. I could be entirely isolated while surrounded by people, because no one cared about me, really. I could also be socializing with some of my favorite people. Above all else, I serve as an important cog in the well-oiled machine that is Mercedes-AMG. It was the dream I sought out.

In 2016, I came upon Cathal Lynch, and our romance began to bud. Nothing new. Just another person to hide behind so I could continue to value my loneliness. This is the moment where I went wrong. Cathal had been correct from the beginning: There was no way to keep our relationship secret forever. We had two incredibly different opinions on this. I believed it could be managed for a long time. Until a wedding, at least. Cathal waited just days before asking if he could reveal me to the public. This became a constant item of discussion. In the meantime, every song Cathal released was a reflection of our relationship. The trips to Morocco to visit my extended family, our house in Brackley covered with his white cat’s hair, and of course, my career. Every time a song was written, and released, I would panic. It was all pieces of information that would lead people to me. The glass walls started to show their cracks.

Then, in 2019, they finally crumbled. I was now a microcelebrity. Yes, I had spoken to a few Formula 1 magazines, but my Instagram had never been on television. This was an entirely new world for me. Cathal did not help me navigate this new world. The strain on our relationship was too large, and Cathal moved out of my home in Brackley just a week before the COVID-19 pandemic hit. This was 2 years ago now. With the collapse of the life I knew, I tried to embrace the disaster. Maybe I’m being dramatic, but when I looked around, all I saw was the shambles.

Wherever I turned though, Cathal was there.

And so I wonder, where can I wander? Cathal follows me everywhere. My job is micromanagement, and Cathal’s seems to be micromanaging me. Every song seems to center around some sort of belief I was using him. I will not apologize for something I did not do though. 1 break up album is understandable. 2 break up albums is uncomfortable. 2 albums and 5 singles is a deliberate assault on a person’s life. I don’t know how he walked away from this so hurt, and I would like to apologize. I would also like to never see him again.

Perhaps, that is what makes me a bitch to him. I am a bitch (as it is a job requirement). I will accept that. I have developed a hardened exterior in no small part due to the previously described situations. I will not accept the assertion that I was nothing more than a woman seeking out fame. I easily could’ve found it in my own job. I chose not to.

I cannot continue to maintain my isolation though, that much is clear. Cathal hasn’t left me alone for 2 years. An essay won’t stop gossip and an army of fans to spread it. This latest incident is proof by itself. Even had the song not been clearly targeted at me, enough speculation would have led people to believe it was. So, I believe I should address at least one other item:

I choose to own the label of bitch, but no woman should have to make that decision because a man decided to label her as one. In the interest of fairness however, I believe Cathal Lynch should accept the label of ‘misogynist.’

As written through correspondence with Arabella Lazaar and Jeffrey Martens. Arabella Lazaar is currently the personal assistant to Mercedes-AMG team principal Torger “Toto” Wolff. Jeffrey Martens is her legal counsel and acquaintance.

Comments on this piece are unavailable.

“Black screens are going up,” I heard over the headset, and immediately took it off. Nothing was going to be happening for a moment.

“Fucking hell,” Toto sighed. “Gearbox issue, we’re not even on the road.” He looked over at me, and I saw a smile creep over his face.

“Let me show you what Bono sent me,” He smirked, raising his eyebrows. He handed over his phone and I saw a tweet.

PopCrave

Cathal Lynch temporarily banned from Formula 1 races after releasing “Bitch,” and showing up to his ex-girlfriend’s job. Video below.

I looked at the video thumbnail. There he was in his stupid Red Bull shirt, but his hair looked different. He had clearly cut it, and his eyes looked tired. He no longer had the shaggy, boyish look he had when we broke up. Instead, he looked like a real celebrity. I clicked on the video and listened closely.

Cathal was leaving the paddock, and a bunch of media had already surrounded him. “Cathal, Cathal. Why are you leaving the paddock today?” One called out. He stopped and spoke into the camera, as I knew he couldn’t resist.

“I was apparently ‘banned’ due to some violation. I don’t know what. My team is on it. It’s absurd. I bought my ticket. The song was planned to be released months ago. I apologize though to all the fans who might’ve expected to see me here,” He groaned out an obviously prepared reply. He knew why he had been banned. No way he couldn’t.

“Cathal, did you see Ariana Lazaar’s response?” Another reporter called out.

“Huh?” He asked walking towards them.

“Did you see Ariana Lazaar’s response?”

“Arabella? You mean Arabella? And no, what response? She hasn’t said anything,” Cathal answered.

“10 minutes ago on the Guardian,” The reporter explained.

“What? What’d she say?” Cathal asked.

“She called you a misogynist,” He responded. I could see the gears in Cathal’s head turn. “Mr. Lynch, do you have a response? Cathal, do you have a response?”

“That bitch.”

I could hear a collective ‘whoa’ come from the crowd of reporters as Cathal flipped his sunglasses down. The reporters chased him down as he climbed into his car and drove off. I looked up at Toto, and immediately laughed when I saw his huge smirk on his face.

“Nice response, by the way. PR is absolutely in love,” Toto explained.

“I…I appreciate that,” I smiled.

“I’m so very serious. I think he just ruined his own career, and you get to keep that pretty smile on your face,” Toto said, before suddenly looking around. “Where’s Netflix?”

“Not here,” I shrugged.

“They’re not going to put this in, right? No point, right?” He asked. “It’d be weird.”

“If they do, they’re not interviewing me,” I nodded.

“Where’s Susie? Do you know?”

“Uh…not sure actually.”

“Let me text her. Keep your ears open on the headset, will you?” Toto asked, stepping away from the computers.

“Will do,” I nodded, putting the headset back on. It was a series of chaotic conversations between engineers as everyone desperately tried to understand the electrical failure occurring in one of the cars. Less time on the road is less time to practice, and suddenly everyone was moving, calling, chatting, arguing, and complaining. If I took the headset off though, I would find it to be entirely silent. Maybe a door would creak open every now and then followed by pounding footsteps, but otherwise, it could be eerie during a time like this. The only time you’d find this room silent otherwise would be the delayed breaths as we all sat waiting to hear a driver was okay after a crash.

This was not silent out of fear though, it was silent because a good chunk of the engineers had run off to settle things on the car directly. The others were too busy staring at analytics on their computers. I recall one time when an assistant from Red Bull learned that I sit in the paddock and listen to things on the headset. I told him quite simply that when Toto isn’t here, I’m his boots on the ground for all things administrative. When Toto is here, I’m still his boots on the ground as he literally flies around taking care of everything else. He should have to worry the least about resource management and being sure he’s kept up on everything. I can handle the rest.

Suddenly, I felt a tiny tap on my leg, and looked over to my left and saw Jack.

“Oh, hey, Jack!” I smiled. I saw Susie was standing right behind me, as Toto ran off to handle something. “And Susie.”

“He saw you from across the room and went straight to practically begging to see you,” Susie grinned.

“Yeah? You missed me?” I asked, picking him up and putting him on my lap. “Here, let’s get you a headset. You might be able to hear your dad.”

I grabbed a pair that was too big and nearly falling off his ears. I held it with my hand as he grabbed on to either ear so he could hear.

“Y’know, Toto’s pissed about the car. I think he needed to see Jack to remind himself he can’t break any necks,” Susie nearly whispered.

“An electrical failure this soon is not exactly a ringing endorsement for the season,” I complained.

“Yeah and Red Bull is on our ass.”

“Gotta focus on our car first,” I shrugged.

“Hey, I was thinking. It’s been so long since we caught up. Did you want to grab a tea or something when you get a break from the action?” Susie offered.

“Uh…yeah, yeah. Of course,” I smiled. In a bit of a sad way, one of my only female friends is my boss’s ex-wife. At least they’re best friends, and at least she is just lovely. To be clear, I would choose to have more female friends. It just happens that I work in a female dominated field in a boys’ club. All of my colleagues who I find myself trying to impress and work against, are women. All of my colleagues who I have to work with and build a strong relationship with happen to be men. Except, really, Susie. Maybe a few others here and there, but our relationships just don’t mesh.

“Too busy?” She asked.

“No, no. I’ll make time. I’ll text you,” I explained. Jack gently pulled the headset off his ears.

“Bored,” He shrugged.

“That was quick,” I smiled at him. “Well what do you want to do?”

He shrugged again.

“Do you wanna watch me mess with…my calendar?” I asked. He nodded, much to my surprise.

“Oh! Alright then,” I responded, and went to my calendar on the computer in front of me. Susie chuckled and sat in the chair next to us. I kept one ear on the headset, the other on Jack and Susie, my eyes on the calendar, one arm around Jack’s back with my cellphone in my hand as I shot off text messages, and the other hand on the computer mouse. This type of multitasking is something they try to train into you during your training. I had been lucky enough to become particularly well versed in it at a young age, helping my parents manage the hotel. Little things here and there. Grabbing the phone while they showed someone around, or playing concierge for the guests. Then, when I came back while getting my training, I actually got the title. The idea of a tiny hotel in Ameland having a concierge was cute enough to bring guests. I mean, the island doesn’t have much, so all I really did was help them manage a little bit of travel to and fro, and tell them where to catch the best views. People still appreciated it…I think.

“Isn’t it nice to have the family back together?” My father asked.

“Yeah, pay no mind to the fact that Chadi has ran off to the nearest bar,” Nour laughed.

“Why is Chadi even here?” Farah asked. “He never shows up. Of course, Arabella offers a ticket to Formula 1 and he decides to show up.”

“I mean, at least he’s here,” I groaned.

“Thank you, Arabella,” My mother nodded.

“Besides, I give you guys tickets all the time. It’s not like this was the only time and Chadi used me or something.”

“Yeah, because Chadi would never do that,” Farah laughed.

“What are you talking about, Farah? Do you suddenly know him better than the rest of us?” Nour asked, leaning in.

“No, but I know our parents better than the rest of you.”

“Oh, listen to the favorite babble on,” Chadi slurred, suddenly appearing at the table. He pulled out the chair directly next to Farah, and smirked.

“Sorry, I tried to tell him to go back to his hotel since he’s drunk but he wouldn’t have it,” Mehdi spoke from the doorway. As the newest addition to the family, why did anyone allow him to play bouncer?

“Why are you still here?” Chadi asked.

“Well, I am married to Nour. I know you missed the wedding, but what? Are you such a drunk you can’t remember that?”

“Shut the fuck up, with all due respect, Mehdi,” Nour groaned. “It’s not your job to keep anyone in or out of the family despite what Farah may have told you.”

“Everyone, shut up!” My father shouted. “Chadi, we love you. but you can’t show up drunk and argue with your sister.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did everyone miss what she said about me?”

“No we heard it,” I complained, rubbing my temple.

“Then you should say to your favorite daughter to keep her mouth shut sometimes!” Chadi shouted at our parents.

“Favorites? We don’t play favorites,” Our mom spoke, softly.

“Raise your hand if you went to boarding school,” Chadi smirked. Nour and I raised our hands with Chadi.

“The favorite child gets the stellar education of Burgemeester Waldaschool? Meanwhile, the only one of us who is rich went to Saint-Denis and played squash because she was anxious.”

“Only one of us? I’m sorry, are you in my pocketbook, Farah?” Nour asked. “Your husband is a brain surgeon, fuckhead.”

“Watch your mouth,” My father warned.

“Stop fucking critiquing us and get on this one,” Nour answered, pointing at Farah.

“Farah, be nice,” My mother sighed.

“Be nice? That’s it?” Nour asked. “C’mon, you’ve got something better than that in there/”

“Leave mom alone, Nour,” Farah argued. “She hasn’t done anything.”

“Actually, our parents have done everything,” Chadi slurred. “When you think about it.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, you fucking drunk?” Farah interrogated.

“I think what Chadi is saying-” Nour began.

“I can speak for myself, fuckhead,” Chadi interrupted. “They chose you to be the favorite, me to be the prodigal son that has yet to return, and Nour to be the envious older brother. And Arabella to be the anxious one who sits there twisting her fucking hair and not saying shit.”

I slowly took my hands out of my hair. I mean, yeah, he was right.

“Why are you mad at Arabella? She is literally just sitting there,” Nour asked.

“Because she’s literally just sitting there. She’s not saying anything of value and just watching this thing go down,” Farah groaned. Farah turned to me, eyebrow raised, and hair falling out of her bun. Chadi turned to me, with his body clearly wanting to slump over. Then Nour, the most cleancut one at the table, turned to me with a slightly crazed look in his eyes, like he smelled blood and was ready to go after it. Then my parents. My mother and father both turned to me, instead of speaking up and trying to solve this problem.

“Listen, everyone needs to shut up. I brought you all here. You didn’t have to come, any of you. You chose to. Farah, just accept the fact that you’re the favorite. Our parents can barely admit it because it’s true. I’m sure you went through shit too though, I guess. Chadi, you’re drunk. Go back to the hotel, and just fucking sleep it off. And Nour, stop just fueling drama because you want to see the family blow up. And mom, and dad. At least realize that Farah is your favorite. Maybe if you admitted it, all of us would calm down or something. And I will keep playing negotiator since that’s all you guys want from me. But everyone, otherwise, shut the fuck up. Actually, y’know what. I don’t care. I’m leaving,” I complained. I stood up and left the table. No one came after me. Why would they? They were probably too self-absorbed to have even heard what I said.

“We’ve had Bottas on the road for 5 or so laps right now. We don’t have a lot of time left in the morning session,” Someone called from the radio.

“How many laps can we get in?” Toto asked.

“Maybe 10? 15 total?” A response rang out.

“We’ll take it. It’s day one, he needs to be on the road,” Toto groaned. Toto turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Well, at least he’ll have those. He’s going to absolutely have my ass later.”

“He’ll learn to live with it,” I shrugged.

“It would be better for him to learn to live with Max and Charles.”

“Speaking of Charles,” I gestured towards the screens. “Car’s down.”

“Well…and there it goes. Red flag. Alright…6 laps from Bottas?” Toto shrugged. “Pfft. This is just uber good, yeah?”

“I’m going for lunch in a few,” I sighed, taking off the headset.

“You’re going to be in the garage for the afternoon session then?” Toto asked, tapping my shoulder so I could turn around to face him.

“Nope, my weekend is in the motorhome.”

Toto raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ll be back, but I’m talking shit with Bono when I get back,” I sighed. Bono looked up from his place to the left of Toto and raised an eyebrow.

“Who are we talking shit about?” He asked, putting down his papers.

“Toto,” I whispered.

“Alright, you two,” Toto chuckled. “But before you go, Arabella. Give me something to distract myself for a moment. What do you want for your anniversary?”

“A pen would actually be nice,” I sighed, taking out my phone and scrolling.

“Still on about a pen. Anything else?” Toto groaned.

“There are good pens, Toto,” Bono nodded. I suddenly realized I had way too many notifications for me to continue comfortably looking at my phone. Even if just to make myself look busy.

“A fountain pen?” Toto asked.

“Oh, I would never use a fountain pen,” I sighed.

Toto threw his hands up. “Then what good of a gift is it?”

“I mean, she writes a lot,” Bono shrugged.

“She writes a lot. No worries, Arabella. I’ll make sure you get a pen. It will be the best gift you’ve ever gotten," he winked. For a moment, for that moment, everything was about what he had just said. Of course, our relationship is professional. At best, friendly. However, it would be irresponsible for me not to admit though that a part of my cold exterior could be melted away by the simple gesture of someone wanting to do something nice for me. Was that just part of my seemingly growing crush on him? I don’t think it matters. What it really says though is how desperate I am for someone to care about me.

“You see how her eyes just lit up? I think she really does want a pen,” Bono laughed.

“Maybe,” I cringed at myself. I could just imagine my doe eyed look for a few seconds. Toto just smirked though, implying that at the least, he didn’t notice the ‘desperate’ part of my expression.

“Yeah, uh…do you have a recommendation?” The security guard sighed, looking me up and down.

“Yeah, uh…Lewis Hamilton?” I mocked.

“The attitude is not cute on you,” He responded, looking through the list. “Well, just because you’re on the list, doesn’t mean you get to come in.”

“Then what’s the point of your list?” I groaned.

“Do you think you’re Grace Kelly?”

“Do you think you’re the secret service?”

“I am,” He sighed, quickly flashing his ID. Oh…

“Alright, Schatzi,” I heard from behind me, as an arm wrapped around my shoulders. “I thought you’d already be on this boat, huh?”

“Yeah, I did too, Toto,” I sighed, looking at him. First kiss, second kiss. Just a brief touch on each cheek. The security guard looked at me in the eyes, and then back at Toto, before stepping aside to let us in. Toto let go of me, slipping into the crowd, as I began to follow him. Right before I did though, the security guard grabbed my arm.

“Now I have to know…who are you?” He asked.

“His assistant,” I shrugged. The security guard watched as I slipped into the crowd, but not quite disappearing before I blew a raspberry at him. I’m childish…but who cares at this particular moment. I’m on a billionaire’s super yacht, at the request of the best F1 driver in the world and another billionaire, and within my sight right now is Prince Albert. I took my fingers through my hair. I straightened it for the first time in a very long time. I stepped further into the party. It's hard to feel comfortable when surrounded by people like this, but nevertheless, I couldn’t help but savor the moment a little bit.

My anxiety was creeping up though. I could feel it. I quickly moved towards one of the servers and grabbed a glass of champagne, and chugged it. I grabbed another before they even moved away. I refuse to not enjoy myself, no matter how much alcohol it takes. The good thing about being unrecognizable is that no one is really desperate to talk to me. So, I can float through the party like a ghost…wait…why did I come then?

“Hey, Arabella!” I heard from deep in the crowd in front of me. The British accent and ability to remain soft spoken while yelling was impossible not to recognize. I pushed through the crowd, following the hand waving to me.

“Oh, hey!” I smiled. Lewis gave me a nod, and smiled.

“I swore to God, I saw your boyfriend floating around here,” Lewis said, looking around.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Lewis Capaldi?” I asked.

“Oh, you know…it might’ve been. They do look alike, don’t they?” He sighed. “Is Cathal here?”

“In Monaco? Yeah. Here at the party? Likely not. We try to split up our engagements. Avoiding speculation and all that.”

“Ah, yeah. Not fun dating celebrities, is it?”.

“I mean…it’s great,” I smiled.

“You don’t have to lie,” Lewis laughed. “But, I’m glad you could come. Sometimes these parties feel a little…weird. It’s like 20 year olds and 50 year olds. Nothing in between. Except us, I guess.”

“Yeah, it's definitely interesting. But this isn’t my first party in Monaco…maybe the most elite one I’ve been to though,” I cringed, looking around.

“Oh, one thing I did want to mention. I am having a less elitist party tomorrow. Less princes, more fun. Bring your swimsuit, bring Cathal, it’ll be great. Less intense at least. I’ll text you the details.”

“Cathal? I don’t know…I…”

“Don’t worry. We know discretion. Despite what it may seem like, there are ways to keep things quiet. Promise,” Lewis winked.

“Thanks,” I smiled. I took a deep breath and looked around the party from my position. “I’m…going to go mingle. I’ll catch up with you when I see you.”

“Got it. See you tomorrow,” Lewis smiled.

I stepped in the direction of the exit. I appreciated Lewis’s offer, and maybe I would go tomorrow. Today though, I just am not sure if this is the environment for me. I can’t say I find this to be particularly comfortable. I’m not famous, and I don’t want to be. I barely got let in the door. I shouldn’t be here. I just shouldn’t-

“Are you leaving already, Arabella?” I heard Toto behind me.

“Oh…yeah,” I answered, turning around.

“Well, before you go, at least let me introduce you to some people. I was just telling everyone about my amazing assistant, and they were just saying how they have to put a face to the name.”

I walked directly to the right of Toto, and waved to the group of men he was talking to. 2 hours later, I was still on the boat. Sure, I didn’t belong with the celebrities, but maybe that’s not my niche in places like this. But I can definitely play assistant in places like this. And I kind of love it. Sharing stories of messy conversations and quadruple bookings, all while showcasing how damn good I am at managing it? It gets no better.

Tag list: @daddyslittlevillain, @littleheaven

#f1 2023 #f1 fandom #toto wolff #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #fanfic #formula 1 rpf #oc of color #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fluff

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restlesswritingss · 2 years

Text

Traitor

Suna x reader ft Atsumu being annoying lol

Suna was supposed to hate you. Atsumu had made that clear to him. You played for the Inarizaki girl’s volleyball team, their setter to be specific, and you were apparently now Atsumu’s nemesis.

It’d started after you were announced to be the number one setter in Japan for girls your age. Then, the comparisons of yours Atsumu’s styles got matched up in almost every single article about him. It was a big deal, having the top setters for both boys and girls was an impressive boast for Inarizaki. You were like Atsumu in that you brought out the best in your hitters. But where Atsumu demanded his hitters rise to the occasion of his sets and implied they shouldn’t play if they couldn’t, you made your hitters know that you believed they could rise to the occasion of their sets and that you trusted them to do so.

This made you a nuisance in Atsumu’s eyes. What had really set him off now as he ranted to Suna during their break in class was that you’d teasingly called him a try-hard during the last practice match between your teams.

Suna had snickered at the comment, much to Atsumu’s chagrin, so now he was determined to make Suna see how utterly evil you were.

“She is so aggravating! If her head wasn’t so far up her team captain’s ass, she’d see that she’s much better than all the girls on her team and should let them know it! She doesn’t push her players, but I’m the loser?” Atsumu ranted.

“Try-hard. She called you a try-hard,” Suna deadpanned.

“Oh whatever! She’s such a bitch!” Atsumu didn’t even notice the glares sent his way at that word.

Suna rolled his eyes, “You just said she is better than every girl on her team. Sounds to me like you like her.”

Atsumu shook his head, and vehemently denied such an idiotic notion. Suna felt relief wash over him as he could see that Atsumu really didn’t have any romantic interest towards you. Not that Suna did, he just thought you were super pretty is all.

Class began again, and Atsumu turned to face the board grumbling about Suna being a traitor and on your side.

Suna frowned, not wanting to be bothered by such a stupid issue. Was he on your side though? There really wasn’t a ‘your side’ because this feud seemed to be completely in Atsumu’s head. You didn’t pay him much mind, you didn’t pay Suna much either and that bothered him more than it should. He knew you the best of the second years. You two weren’t friends, per se, but you always smiled at him in the halls, smiles that most definitely did not make his heart stutter.

Suna sighed inwardly, there was really no point in thinking about you so much. So why was he?

Atsumu continued to bitch incessantly about you on the walk from class to the practice. Suna muttered responses in your defense, to which Atsumu just got more dramatic and annoying in his tirade.

“Speak of the devil, huh?” Atsumu yelled as he saw you of course standing outside the boy’s changing area.

You raised your hand in greeting to them and smiled. Suna caught the blush this small gesture put on Atsumu’s cheeks, ignoring that his own also felt warm. Weird reaction for a guy to have to someone he supposedly hates, Suna thought.

“What are you doing outside our changing room you perv?” Atsumu huffed as they came up to you.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Suna. Having your gaze on him made his heart race. That never really happened. Maybe he was just nervous about the glare Atsumu was sending him. That had to be it.

“Suna, I was wondering if you would be wiling to teach me blocking techniques after your practice today? Read-blocking is the weakest part of my game, and you’re the best of the best when it comes to that. I’ll buy you whatever dinner you want afterwards!” You bowed at the end of your mini-speech and this made Suna turn completely red.

He coughed and put a hand to his face, trying to cover up. Atsumu grabbed your shoulder and turned you to him as he shook you.

“Listen ya wench! You can’t just come up and steal my best blocker! Suna is my friend and he is going to help me after practice!” Atsumu had never wanted Suna’s help before, but he wasn’t going to let you swoop in and get Suna even more on your side.

You grabbed the hand that was still on your shoulder and plucked it off.

“You don’t even need help, your blocking is great,” you huffed and glared up at Atsumu.

Atsumu’s face instantly reddened as well at your compliment. Jesus what were doing to these boys?

You turned back to Suna, worry etching it’s way onto your face. You bit your lip and avoided his eyes. Suna blinked as he realized you were nervous to ask him this. He caught your eye and smiled as gently as he could to reassure you. A light blush now dusted your cheeks and Suna felt a thrill at his smile doing that.

“Sure I’ll help. I’m all about spreading knowledge and what not. Also, I can’t say no to free ramen,” he gave you a now lopsided grin to come off more laid back than he felt.

His heart was hammering at the idea of time just the two of you.

“I like free ramen too!” Atsumu yelled.

Suna swung at him. Not hard, just hit his shoulder in an effort to get him to go the fuck away and leave you two be.

“I’m not buying you free ramen try-hard,” you taunted as you stuck your tongue out at Atsumu.

Before he could really reply, Kita came out of the changing room to see what all the commotion was. Atsumu and Suna instantly stood straight up and went silent. You snickered at their reaction to their captain. Kita raised a brow, waved to you, and went on to the gym.

“Ok well, I’ll see you after practice. Thanks again Suna. I really appreciate this,” You gave him a quick side hug before scurrying off to your own practice.

* * *

Suna was using any excuse he could to get his hands on you. Your form needed fixing and the easiest way to do so to stand behind you and adjust you himself. Sure, he didn’t need to also run his hands up your arms, but they were just so soft and it helped emphasize his point of extending your reach wide. The way you shivered under his touch made his mind go to bad places.

Suna wasn’t really that promiscuous despite his reputation. He wasn’t shy about pursuing a girl he was interested in physically, but a relationship hadn’t really crossed his mind. Well it hadn’t until now.

Along with practicing, you two were also talking quite a lot. Suna was good at making conversation when he wanted to be and boy did he want to with you. Hearing about your interests was giving him butterflies for some weird reason. Every tiny fact about yourself you gave him got instantly ingrained in his psyche, pushing away less important knowledge like math.

Atsumu forced Osamu to spy on your extra practice with him. They were looking through the gym in a way they thought was sneaky, but really you and Suna had noticed them right away but didn’t pay it any mind.

“I see that Suna is heavily flirting with the girls’ team setter but I don’t see the big deal about it ‘Tsumu,” Osamu’s patience was wearing thinner and thinner as he stomach got emptier by the second, “what do you like her or something?”

Atsumu scoffed loudly, “No! It’s just that she is sinking her demoness claws into our friend and I won’t stand for it! She called me a try-hard twice now!”

“First of all, you are a try-hard. Second of all, who cares if she’s annoying or not if Suna likes her?”

“Suna shouldn’t like her!”

It was obvious Suna did like you.

You two had finished up during the twin’s argument and were now rolling up the net. Suna was doing most of the work, a shock to everyone, mostly to impress you. Once everything was put away and you two were grabbing your bags to go, you thought more about your offer in exchange for this training.

“So where do you want to get ramen?” You asked, blushing now at the realization that you had basically asked him on a date. But it wasn’t a date. It was for volleyball practice. Suna wouldn’t have said yes to date, even if you maybe wished he would.

Suna noticed the blush and it made him gain confidence, “I’ll show you the teams’ favorite spot. Also, you don’t actually have to pay for me. Dinner with a pretty girl is reward enough.”

At this you turned completely red and started sputtering that of course you had to repay him for the nuisance of staying after with you. Suna didn’t see it as a nuisance at all.

Suna just laughed, “You look cute when you’re all apologetic but really, I want to go get ramen with you.”

This instantly shut you up. Unable to respond properly, you just gingerly reached out for his hand to test the waters. Suna smiled and immediately intertwined his fingers with yours to lead you out of the gym.

Atsumu, seeing you two coming their way now shoved Osamu into the bushes to hide.

Suna and you walked hand in hand out of the gym, much to Atsumu’s dismay.

“Lock up Miyas!” Suna yelled over his shoulder as you passed the bushes they were ‘hiding’ in.

Atsumu stood up and brushed himself off.

“Traitor!” He screamed at Suna’s back, who promptly just flipped him off.

Suna didn’t mind being on your side.

#suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro imagine #this is ok?? I guesss #idk im so depressed what is quality writing anyways #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna imagine #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! imagine #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq!! x reader #hq!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine

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ingravinoveritas · 11 months

Note

Isn’t Crowley in season 2 the gayest thing you’ve ever seen?

Extraordinarily gay, Anon. If there was an early warning system for homosexuality like they have for belligerent actions in the military, Crowley would be at DEFCON Fabulous. Allow me to share a few of my favorite gay Crowley moments:

So, for the first two moments, I'm thoroughly amused and delighted by just how much more David has upped the "dramatic bitch" quotient in season 2. We saw in season 1 that Crowley could be very dramatic when the occasion called for it--such as that little pesky thing called the Apocalypse--but what feels different to me now is that this is Crowley's "everyday" dramatic bitch. The part of him he kept hidden in the first season but now feels comfortable showing, specifically and especially to Aziraphale.

It's one of several things that adds to the very "domestic" feeling of season 2, along with Crowley also whipping off his sunglasses the minute he sets foot in the bookshop. He saunters in like there's a red carpet on the floor and waits expectantly for Aziraphale to tell him he's pretty, and even just standing there, Crowley radiates The Gay in epic quantities.

And then there is the third moment. Crowley in Heaven, in that absolutely ludicrous outfit. The gold sigil. The scarf. The headband. He looks like he just got done inventing glory holes and is excessively smug about the blasphemy of it all. The entire outfit literally goes from hideously ugly to incredible just because Crowley is taking the word "extra" to new heights (or depths, as it were).

I also think that the reason Crowley is so much more dramatic and so much gayer in season 2 is because of David. We know that Michael put everything of himself into Aziraphale in the first season and repeatedly said that he didn't know where the line was between the character and himself, but in contrast, I think David was playing Crowley by the book. (Quite literally, as in Crowley the way he was written in the GO novel.)

Now, though, it's plainly obvious that David has put much more of himself into the role, as we've seen him wear that exact headband IRL and the trackslut--sorry, tracksuit--seems to be an homage to the hoodie David was living in throughout the seasons of Staged...and it's also unzipped to the navel, as David was fond of doing in scenes with Michael with nothing on underneath.

So yes, Crowley in season 2 of GO is most certainly the gayest thing I've ever seen, but not just because of the clothes. It's the level of comfort in his skin, the feeling of safety he seems to have with Aziraphale that lets him be who he really is, without fear or worry. It's that he can be a dramatic bitch knowing full well that Aziraphale will call him a dramatic bitch, but still love him anyway. I think we are going to see all sorts of levels to Crowley's gayness this season (with and without Aziraphale), and I'm so excited for it...

#anonymous #reply post #good omens 2 #crowley #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #the gold sigil though #and that scarf #he looks like a gay '80s mod jogger #so wrong that it's right #david tennant knows what's up #no way he doesn't know exactly what he is doing #choices #can't wait to watch #gifs by me #discourse

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juneknight · 2 years

Text

Idling || 8

Previous drabble here.

about this: MK system/fem!reader. Likely an inaccurate and dramatized portrayal of DID. Discussions of self harm, graphic depictions of self harm, and blood.

You, Marc, and Steven plot how to communicate with Jake.

Being awake all night destroys your sleep schedule, but neither you nor Marc nor Steven seem to mind when you find yourselves crawling into bed together with the gray early afternoon light flooding in through the window.

“I’m so sorry you were hurt,” Steven murmurs, softly tracing a thumb across the apex of your swollen cheek. When you had looked at it in his bathroom, you had just barely been able to see a blue tint to the skin, hinting at the impressive bruise that would later form.

You cup a hand over his own, enjoying the warmth of his palm against the ache. When the man in the alleyway had hit you, you had felt it in your teeth. Then you remember the wet warmth of his blood splattering across your bare legs when Jake slit his throat and your stomach rolls. That had left a mark on you that would also show in time.

“I’m okay,” you say. Physically, you are. Emotionally, you feel like a barely concealed mess, struggling to hold it together even when it feels like you’re watching the person you love most unravel before your eyes.

Neither of you choose to be the little spoon, deciding instead to embrace each other and fall asleep that way, uncomfortably warm but desperate for each other, holding on as if you were each other’s only lifejacket in a roiling ocean.

Briefly, you wake at one point to find Marc snacking, his eyes dark and distant even as he watches you. Your face throbs. Reaching up gingerly, you feel that your eye is swelling. His expression dips into even more dangerous territory. Once he comes back to bed smelling of toast, you both fall asleep again, and neither of you wake until the sun is setting once more.

Marc jolts you from sleep by shouting, rolling until his body presses you into the mattress protectively. All around you, the room seems to shake, wind rustling your hair even as you cling to Marc’s shoulder, shouting into his neck, “What’s happening?”

“Khonshu, stop!”

All at once the wind dies and the furniture stops its trembling. You don’t, adrenalin making your body shake like a leaf in the wind even as Marc rolls out of bed—unaffected by this supernatural display of fury—and begins to point his finger towards some spot nearer to the ceiling than the floor.

“You manipulative son of a bitch, I don’t care where your sidekick is!” Marc shouts.

Great, you think, eyeing the empty air Marc is shouting at. More conversations I only get to see half of.

“Yeah, well now your game is over. Release us, all of us, or—“ Marc pauses, face darkening with whatever the invisible god replies with. “—or I’ll contact the Ennead…good standing? They can hardly stand you at all!”

You slip from the bed, knees still weak from the fear of being woken so suddenly and violently. When you put a hand on Marc’s shoulder, he barely spares you a glance. “Marc,” you try. “Translate for me here. What’s going on?”

“No need,” a baritone voice booms.

You suck in a breath, only barely repressing the instinctual urge to scream. They had warned you about Khonshu—described him as best as they could during their rare moments of willingness to recount the old god and their servitude to him—but nothing could prepare you for it. The sheer scale of him, the unearthly wind that rustles his wrappings, the massive skull which reminds you of a scythe ready to cut the both of you down like stalks in a field.

“Now that I have regained the favor of the other gods, I am once again powerful enough to show myself at will,” Khonshu says.

Marc’s eyes flicker between you two. “You—can see that thing?”

“The ten foot tall fossilized bird? He’s hard to miss,” you gasp, breaths coming fast and shallow.

Marc’s head bows, forehead pressing against your shoulder. Maybe it’s with relief: he isn’t alone in this nightmare anymore, is he? He’s finally been given third party confirmation (from someone who isn’t a cult leader) that Khonshu exists. Your racing heart feels fit to break. How much more fear does Marc carry inside himself that he hasn’t yet spoken of?

You reach for his hand and squeeze his fingers. “Fill me in. What’s going on?”

“My Moon Knight did not answer the call to justice,” the bird says. Agitated, he strikes his staff against the wooden floor, and the books on Steven’s shelves rattle dangerously. “Where is Jake Lockley?”

“Gone for good, if we’re lucky,” Marc grits out.

“Is that good?” Marc’s expression grows stormier, if possible. You rush to explain, adding: “You know better than I would. Before I met you, I didn’t know anything about DID. Can alters—I don’t even know what word to use. Dissolve? Disappear?”

Marc rubs at the furrow between his eyes. “I don’t know as much as you might think. Whatever I could read on the internet. I checked out a couple books on it from the Chicago Public Library once. I’ve got a hell of fine waiting if I ever go back.”

“Discuss this on your own time,” Khonshu bellows. “The sun has set. This time belongs to me. I grow tired of dealing with your fractured mind, Marc Spector. If Jake Lockley doesn’t present himself to me before sunrise, tell him that our agreement is no more.”

The god disintegrates into golden sand blown into the void by an unfelt wind.

“That doesn’t sound good. What does that mean?” you wonder aloud.

“I don’t know.” Marc glances at the mirror. He begins a fiery back and forth with Steven; it kills you to only be privy to half the conversation, but you keep quiet. The last thing they need is you inserting yourself into an already tense discussion; especially when Steven’s opinion on the next step should hold much more weight than your own.

“No. That’s not an option…okay, first of all, what gave you the impression that this bastard is even open to negotiation? Was it the casual alleyway homicide or the months of secretly using our body like a murder puppet? No, buddy, you listen! If there’s still a wall between us and him, who the hell would he have to negotiate with in the first place?...” In the silence of Steven’s answer, Marc’s eyes flicker to you for the briefest moment. If you hadn’t been watching him so closely, you might have missed it or excused it as a trick of the light. Jaw clenched, he glares into the mirror. “Out of the question…it isn’t a matter of trust, of course I trust—them.”

“Don’t do that,” you mutter. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. You aren’t even good at it.”

Marc holds up a finger, like you’re some child tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and interrupting a grown-up conversation. “Just, give us a minute, will you?”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to snap at him, to say that you can give him plenty of minutes and then storm out. But god help you—you love him. And you know that whatever the next twelve hours bring, he shouldn’t have to face it alone. So instead, you let your jaw shut with a click of your teeth and you focus on counting your breaths, letting Marc’s voice melt into the background. Your face throbs with every heartbeat, so you begin to keep count.

“—hey.” You open your eyes, unaware that you had closed them. Steven is there, face solemn. He reaches out and cups your cheek in his burning palm. “Are you alright?”

“Not really.” You hold up your thumb and finger, the space between them small. “Maybe this much alright. Which is probably still more alright than you.”

“Spot on, you are. Always are.” He sits on the bed beside you, the mattress sloping with his weight until you lean into his body. He smells freshly showered. Jake must have done that while you were at the station answering questions. When you catch a whiff of cigarette smoke, you shiver. It’s probably just in your head. “Don’t take this the wrong way. But Marc convinced me that maybe it’s best if you aren’t here when we try to make contact with this new bloke in our brain.”

“Et tu, Steven?”

“I’m only thinking of you, love,” he says. “It’s not going to be so easy as sending up a smoke signal or sending this Jake a text. He comes out in less than ideal circumstances, doesn’t he?”

You pull away from him to stare, eyes raking over the exhausted lines of his handsome face. “What the hell are you two planning? To nearly get yourselves killed and hope that Jake pops up at the last second like a mole in an arcade game?”

“What, and let him level a city block to save us? No!”

“Then what?”

The look he gives you is so tenderly sad, the silence dragging on so long that you know it must be bad, a truly terrible idea, and the worst idea you can think of—

“I won’t let you hurt yourselves,” you whisper to him. Grabbing his hand, you pull it from your cheek and squeeze it tight, his fingertips turning dark from lack of circulation.

“I don’t think he’d let us,” says Steven.

“I don’t think it would work, anyway. What you and Marc think lures him out…I think you’re wrong.”

Steven blinks. “If you’ve got an idea and you’re holding back, by all means—“

You take a shaky breath, and then you tell him.

Jake runs until his legs give out.

He gets nowhere.

A dense fog clings to the ground twenty or thirty yards in front and behind him. Beyond it, who knows what exists. Nothing, probably. Nothing here is real, Jake thinks, clutching at his hair. Not even me.

Despite the distance he must have traveled, every so often he finds the cab appearing from the fog ahead of him, ever-idling at the curb, smoke drifting from the exhaust. No matter what turn he takes, he always ends up there. The cab. The apartment.

He glances up at the building where Marc grew up and spots a curtain twitching, long dark hair of a woman gone in the blink of an eye. The sight of her makes his stomach roll, palms damp even as they clench into fists, prepared for violence.

“No me puedo escapar de ti, mamá,” he mutters to the ghost of her. His first failure. Turning away, he resolves not to look anymore lest he see her again.

Running is useless, but he isn’t prepared to sit inside the warmth of the cab again. He can’t bear to hear the pain he has caused Marc and Steven.

And you.

He wasn’t sure if they had told you about their time in Khonshu’s service, but when you looked up at him from the dirty London alleyway, you had done it with recognition. Familiarity that he hadn’t earned and didn’t deserve.

Jake didn’t always murder petty thieves. He killed discriminately—in self defense. Other murderers. Rapists. People who sold other people like cattle. But those thieves from the alley had chosen the wrong woman to target. He isn’t delusional enough to believe he holds any claim to you, no matter if you hold and caress and kiss the body he shares with two others—but you are important to his headmates.

And the thief had hurt you.

No. Jake feels no remorse, except that he had not arrived sooner and that you had gotten blood on your dress.

Jake turns his back to the cab, rests against it and lets his body slide down to the ground. He wishes for sleep, the blissful unawareness he gets when the Body rests.

A sound jerks him from his self-pity, the shrill ring of a telephone. Across the street from him rests a payphone which had not been there just a moment before.

Dread curls in his gut. It’s for him. He knows.

The plastic of the phone is damp and cold when he lifts it from the hook and holds it to his ear without speaking.

“—looking for Jake,” spills out your voice. “If you’re there, please come…forward. Front, I mean. Please front. I am looking for Jake. If you’re there—“

Jake hangs up the phone.

It begins ringing again, almost immediately. This time he leaves it, stalking back towards the cab. He won’t go back. Marc and Steven are better off without him. He takes his seat again, closing his eyes and letting his head rest back against the driver’s door. The phone rings for so long that it becomes white noise and he is only jerked from his thoughts when it stops, the silence deafening.

His shoulders drop. How long had he expected you to try, anyway? It’s finished. Now he can relax.

Except his heart has begun to race. Fast, then faster, his chest heaving to keep up. Then he realizes that it isn’t his heart that’s pounding. It isn’t his growing panic and fear. It’s…the Body’s.

Jake is so rarely called to front that it always feels like the first time: the rising sense of wrongness, the bitter taste of fear in the back of his throat, the heart—one thing they all share—feeling like it is about to beat out of his chest. Something terrible is happening.

He told himself that he wouldn’t go back into the apartment. He knows what waits there. Reality, memory, fantasmas. He isn’t ready to face a world where Marc and Steven—and you—know that he exists. He isn’t ready to be seen.

But he is needed. And he will die doing what he was made to do. Protect the Body. Protect the System. Protect You.

Letting out a heavy breath, he picks himself up and turns back to the apartment. The door is open, just a crack.

It’s as good an invitation as any.

And he isn’t sure what he expects when he blinks hard to clear his vision. Fronting to protect Steven and Marc usually means violence—violence being inflicted on them, violence that he must inflict. He’s come to the front in a stifling uniform in Iraq. In a truck driving along the precarious curves of the Alps. On a rooftop in Cairo with a throbbing headache.

In the flat.

His face is wet. His throat is raw. His wrists throb where they are secured with handcuffs behind his back, tethering him to one of the wooden support beams. Instinct has him pulling with all his strength, deepening whatever wounds Marc and Steven have already received in their own struggle, but in an instant he goes unearthly still. Looking at you.

You, sitting cross legged on the floor across the room, knife held loosely in your shaking hand, the blade poised to do yourself more damage. Blood drips from the wounds on your arms, three parallel marks each grow deeper. In nothing but the moonlight streaming through the window, the blood dripping into your lap is black like oil.

It makes sense then, what had frightened Marc and Steven so much.

“Hi, Jake,” you gasp through your tears. “Thought that might get your attention.”

Next drabble here.

#jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader

379 notes · View notes

ack4rwoman · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒

: ̗̀➛ word count: 12.5k

: ̗̀➛ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

: ̗̀➛ notes: yep, i’ve decided that i’m gonna turn this in to a series. again, this is all satire, so no cringey bits will be written bc i can’t with the second hand embarrassment, lol

: ̗̀➛ summary: you gather your two best friends' opinions about your new crush, and while commandant shadis has a few things to say, too, you find yourself introduced in a sticky predicament.

previous chapter :) next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“you could have had a crush on anyone. anyone, y/n, and you chose captain levi?”

the much taller boy with ash brown hair did not look impressed. in fact, the more he frowned, the more he looked like a horse that had been foolishly lead to a suicide charge by commander erwin himself. it was funny, amusing, and satisfying to see, but it wasn’t doing you any favours in terms of support.

jean kirstein was a hater anyway. your best friend, yes, but also your number one hater. you could always count on him to point out your flaws in almost everything; that didn’t mean that you didn’t do the same to him. you gave just as good as you got, it was a mutual thing and although it could get annoying, it was fun. he understood your humour, he just didn’t encourage it, choosing to watch from the side-lines as you embarrass yourself time and time again (‘the one form of entertainment we can get here during training’, he would always say).

“i’m gonna pursue him,” you declared, overwhelmed with pride at your marvellous decision.

jean’s eyes widened significantly. he had been previously practicing the way he would throw more effective punches, but had come to a halt when you had said exactly that, nearly tripping over his own feet. what a dramatic bitch.

“of all the stupid things you’ve done and plan on doing,” began jean, pupils dilating, “this has got to take the cake. what the fuck?”

“wanna know my plan?” you asked, ignoring the way his eye twitched in irritation.

“no.”

“silly jean,” you chortled, “thinking i’d stop just because you said so.”

“you asked if i wanted to know!”

“and i’m telling you anyway.”

jean looked over your shoulder, forming the most expressionless look you had ever seen in your life. he was almost as monotoned as the captain you had grown to be fond of, but not really there yet.

and just who was he making that face at?

it was because of you, yes, but it was like he was silently communicating with the third party of your little group: marco bott.

marco bott, the most purest being inside the walls, would agree with you. you know he would, because even if there were a chance that he wouldn’t, he’d never actually voice that. he wasn’t jean, and he would never try to upset you. he was way too caring of other people’s feelings so you had tried to corrupt him many times, but 1. jean was always there to stop you, and 2. marco bott was literally an angel in disguise. there was no corrupting him when he was so innocent and righteous. eventually, you gave up: one can only be persistent for so long.

“eff you, jean,” you cursed, turning around to face marco instead, watching as he pulled a fallen leaf out of his dark hair. “marco, what do you think? i can pull him, right?”

marco smiled sheepishly. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that marco disagreed with you... but that simply could not be it. marco would never, unless —

you swivelled on the spot, only just about catching jean moving from some action he seemed to have been making when your back was turned, his gaze now stupidly set directly at the sun hovering above you all, and fingers stroking his long chin.

“why are you corrupting him?” you demanded angrily. “that’s my thing!”

“i wasn’t corrupting him, you psycho,” argued jean, now blinking rapidly after ripping his gaze away from the blinding light. “and even if i was, you’re such a hypocrite.”

“jean —”

“he wasn’t corrupting me,” marco interrupted gently. when you looked at him over your shoulder, you could see that his ears had turned pink. the mother fucker was lying.

“marco butt,” you stated, silently fuming.

“it’s — it’s bott —”

“well maybe you should change it to b-u-t-t.”

“no.”

“yes.”

“no.”

“please?”

“no.”

“see, now you’re just playing favourites,” you said, rolling your eyes as you gestured to Jean, who was still frowning. “if jean had suggested it —”

“yeah but i would never,” the horse interrupted, pacing, “i’ve got double the brains you have.”

“yet you still can’t figure out a way to get mikasa to even look at you.”

jean looked visibly taken aback by your response, standing up straighter and scowling.

“why would i want her to look at me?” he demanded, continuing to pace. only, the speed at which he walked and turned had increased notably. both you and marco had noticed, glancing at one another for just a split second before hiding your grins.

you also noticed the way his strides had lengthened: jean had never told you or marco about his small crush on mikasa ackerman (the girl who was at the top of the class for eveything) but the two of you already knew — the poor guy would blush over the smallest of interactions with her every once in a while. too bad mikasa wouldn't even spare him a single glance.

you chose to put the teasing to a pause for now (making a mental note in your head to bring it up later) because you still needed to tell your two best friends about your master plan.

“whatever,” you hastily said, looking at marco once more. the boy was trying to actively avoid your gaze; what an idiot, thinking he could scramble away from your clutch. “captain levi’s in the scout regiment.”

at that, both of your friends stopped dead in their tracks. usually, marco would remind you and jean to keep moving (nobody wanted to go deaf in the ears when commandant shadis would scream about how you maggots were slouching off) but this time, he had stopped moving altogether, not even scolding jean for doing the same.

you wondered if you had said something wrong.

well, arguably, everything that came out of your mouth was something the two constantly opposed, but this seemed different.

maybe it was the way marco’s eyes were wide open in a silent whisper of ‘you shouldn’t’, maybe it was the way jean’s feet were practically planted into the ground with shock, or maybe it was the way the two were unwilling to even look at you that made you slowly begin to understand what that traumatised look on their faces were because of.

you had almost completely forgotten that both marco and jean were competing with everybody else to be part of the military police brigade: marco ranking seventh and jean ranking sixth. when the faction selection part would come soon, they would be joining the mps whereas you would be joining the scouts. they seemed to have figured it out all on their own.

“you’re joining the scouts?” jean had asked after the awkward silence had passed. you didn’t even get a chance to answer before he continued. “what, are you telling me that your master plan is to turn in to that suicidal blockhead? you've got a death wish!”

you knew who he meant. close friend of mikasa's, eren jaeger had been hellbent on joining the scouts since day one of the training corps. jean and eren had quite the tendency of butting heads every once in a while. where it had once been amusing to watch, the consistency of the arguments over basically nothing had become tiring.

as much as you wanted to joke around with jean about this, you could easily tell from the way his brows were creasing that he was dead serious.

“no,” you told him, “how will i ever get to be with the captain if i die?”

“you’re signing yourself up for death with the thought of joining the scouts,” replied jean bitterly.

“oh?” you questioned, eyes narrowing dangerously. “and you’ll spend your life living instead by signing yourself up for the mps, abusing your power, living in the interior with a lavish life while the scouts and the garrisons actually get something done.”

“that won’t be me,” stated jean, voice becoming more stern as he stared at you. “when i join the mps, i’ll actually use my power for good.”

“yeah, you tell me how many mps have said that before actually joining. name one.”

“guys,” started marco, voice shaky as he stepped between you two; you had not realised how close you had gotten to jean in the heat of the moment, "i think we should continue training before —"

“i’ve never met them or spoken to them,” said jean, cutting through marco as if he had not heard the dark-haired boy speak. as a result, marco looked disappointed. "but you have. you could name —"

“nile dok. that’s gonna be your future commander, right?”

“what’s wrong with that?”

“you can’t argue that the mps are working for good if you have him you’re working under.”

“you’re just salty that commander erwin smith lost his girl to him —”

“that has got nothing to do with this!” you snapped, wanting to wipe the stupid twitch in jean’s lip. he found your anger amusing. “don’t you dare talk about poor commander erwin like that when you lost mikasa to eren —”

“what has any of this got to do with that?” roared jean, exhaling deeply through his nose. his pale cheeks had warmed. “and i don’t even like her!”

“jean...” began marco nervously.

“and that means nothing because you lost captain levi to nobody!”

you gasped, scandalised as marco muttered your name. how dare you? you thought in your head, opening your mouth to clap something witty back, only to be interrupted by the bellowing in your left ear.

“CADET L/N!”

you turned your head, ear ringing at the loud voice, and lo and behold, commandant shadis looking as angry as ever, the wrinkles pulling on each side of his eyes with the furrowing of his dark brows. commandant shadis and you had never gotten along. when you had first joined the training corps, it seemed that the commandant had it out for you because from that day onwards, he had made you a target, one to shout at and reprimand every second of the day.

of course, you were not completely innocent yourself. sometimes you would get a rise out of him intentionally.

“is there a reason as to why you maggots are slouching?” you didn’t even get an answer out before he hurried on to say, “do something!”

you did not need to be told twice. what jean had said previously about you and captain levi stung, so without a second thought, your right arm swung up and clashed against his cheek, leaving a red hand print on the side of his face. his head snapped back in place in fury.

“what the fuck?”

“you deserved it!”

“you —”

“c’mon then mp, what’re you gonna do, huh? arrest me?”

“what?”

“or are you gonna steal captain levi from me like nile dok stole marie from erwin smith?” you questioned sharply. jean looked bewildered beyond any confusion you had ever seen on him before, but you did not care. “repeating history, right? well i know better than erwin, and i’m gonna pursue —”

“l/n,” said a low voice from your right.

if you hadn’t turned your head to see who had interrupted your very important speech, you would not have believed anybody if they had told you that the person who had uttered your name so quietly and calmly was commandant shadis. that man was anything but calm, and never once had you ever gotten such a nice word from him, even if it was just your name that hadn’t been screamed at you. commandant shadis seemed surprised with himself too, but sighed tiredly instead of correcting himself.

“my office,” he said, now growling. your brows were knitting together, bemused. “i’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

and then he turned on the spot, giving you a clear view of the lines at the back of his head. now that you could see it up close, you realised how it looked very much like a face. is that how he always knows when one of us aren’t training? he’s got eyes at the back of his head...

you hadn’t realised how long you had been staring for, and it wasn’t even a pleasant sight to be daydreaming over. only when he stopped walking, turned around, and sent you a vicious glare did you straighten up, palms becoming sweaty.

oh fudge, i’m caught.

“l/n,” he began (again, oddly tranquil). you held your breath. “MOVE!”

“yes sir,” you said obediently, not even waiting a single second before jumping on the spot and hurrying to catch up with him, ignoring the laughter rising from around you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

fucking eyebrows smith.

the walk to commandant shadis’s office was awkward and incredibly uneasy. you took your time walking a good distance away from him so to onlookers, it didn’t look like you were in trouble (again). although you should have known that you were walking with a man who screams for a living, so being sneaky like this would only result in him bellowing at you again (‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, SCUM?’), ruining your entire plan as you kept your head hung with annoyance (‘okay, i am right here, you do not need to yell’), which earned another load of spit flying over to you when he began screaming again.

so now you were sitting in his office, seething silently about not him, keith shadis, but the devil in disguise, the blonde brainiac, the mind flayer, the blonde brute, the leader of the scouts, commander erwin smith. the mother fucker betrayed you.

well, not like he had not said that he would be informing shadis about you, but still. partners in crime wouldn’t do that to each other, but arguably, it looked more like a one-sided partner in crime type of relationship. erwin smith just seemed exhausted with the way you listened to nobody but yourself and somehow managed to put up with you for as long as he did - which isn’t too long, in your defence.

commandant shadis’s office was much smaller than the one you had been in previously (the traitor’s office). with a desk at the very centre of the room rather than the back, with floors made of wood rather than the easy tiles, with a bookshelf that had gathered an eye catching amount of dust, shadis’s office looked as though it were made for him, with nothing out of the ordinary. the guy even had a mega phone standing at the top of his drawer in the left corner (whatever for? he shouts just fine without it).

“you know why we’re here,” shadis began, clearing his throat and staring at you. the way his face looked, you knew that if you were seeing him in a dark alleyway, you would run the other way immediately. he had a natural scary look that many of the other higher ups did not possess.

you did not respond. what was there to say, after all? ‘yes, i’ve had this chat with the traito- erwin smith already’ and then risk getting shouted at, or ‘yes, i know’ and risk getting shouted at again? erwin’s backed you in to a corner with this, the backstabber.

“how many times have i told you to mind your own. damn. business?”

he’s not screaming?

well it looked odd. the many times you had been called out of training to get lectured by him, none of them ever had an occasion where he never raised his voice. this was extremely peculiar.

“twenty seven times, sir,” you answered honestly, because you had been counting since last month. when shadis raised a brow at you, looking almost speechless, you corrected yourself. “oh, you’re right. it was twenty eight, sorry.”

his confused look turned in to a sneer.

“that’s not why i was —” he started, growing aggravated. he closed his eyes and shook his head. “never mind. why did you do it?”

“do what?”

“you know what.”

“i don’t really —”

“i’m losing my patience, cadet.”

you sighed, feeling something hot by your abdomen.

“yeah, and i’m losing my patience. oh.. i also really need to do something you won’t be happy about.”

shadis looked as though he wanted to grab the megaphone and scream in to it. you frowned as you awaited his long overdue response.

“i am assigning you to stable duty,” he informed you, rolling his eyes when he saw the enraged look that had called itself home on your face. you bit back a witty response, your sharp tongue beginning to hurt at the repression. “and you’re doing laps till the sun sets, no pause.”

the way in which he said this made your stomach churn even further, the unsettling feeling in your abdomen remained.. and perhaps increased at his statement. you exhaled heavily, leaning back in the uncomfortable chair you were sitting in (the corps really need to use some of that money they get on comfortable seats for fuck’s sake) and clasped your hands together, both elbows resting on the arms on your seat.

oh no, i don’t feel too good..

“well you leave me no choice,” you told him, standing up and walking towards the door a large distance behind you.

“what?“ you heard him mutter, but you really did not want to suffer the experience of getting yelled at for what you were about to do, so leaving without a single glance over your shoulder would be the best option, you had decided. “cadet l/n, sit back down.”

you turned to face him, monotoned and straight faced.

“sir, i really need to step outside for this —”

“cadet l/n!” shadis started, standing up from his seat as you turned away, reaching for the door knob. he wasn’t exactly screaming, but it was closer to it than ever. “are you — get back in here right now!”

you stared at him through half lidded eyes. why would this man just refuse to listen to you? you were doing this for his benefit.

“please sir, i have to leave —”

“what is the meaning of this?” he asked seriously. “you think you’re so special you need to take a step outside and come in when you’re ready? with that attitude, you’ll be titan meal before anyone else in the corps!”

“no, please, sir —”

“you are not leaving!”

“fine, don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

your stomach churned once more, a final time, the last time before you felt the gas travel down and.. poof..

the silence was deafening, almost too loud for you to bare. it wasn’t uncomfortable, and you carefully watched shadis as the irate look on his face remained, teeth gritted and jaw clenched. your eyes travelled up to his nose when you saw it twitch, and then his nostrils flared: once.. twice.. a third time, before..

“CADET — L/N!” he all but roared, stretching out the last couple of letters of your name as the sound of his palm slapping against his nose and mouth came, louder than any silence you had the unfortunate luck of baring.

“that’s gonna leave a mark tomorrow,” you mumbled, leaning back in disgust.

if he heard you, he didn’t give any indication that he cared, for he pointed at the door, fingers shaky, a silent order for you to leave.

the smell couldn’t have been that bad. god, men are so dramatic, you concluded in your head. well, the smell wasn’t as bad to you anyway.

it smelt like raw meat that had been freshly cut and butchered, a hint of bad eggs and offed milk was evident; it seemed to have reached every single inch of the room, including all the corners. the plant that sat on his window sill, you could have sworn you saw one of its leaves droop slightly lower. the plant was probably a male too, dramatic-ass bitch.

it was a fart, it really wasn’t that bad. and that was what you smelled, so perhaps it was worse for the victims of it rather than the owner?

you scrunched your nose up at the thought as you rubbed your stomach.

“i probably shouldn’t have had the eggs for breakfast..”

“LEAVE!” shadis ordered, waving frantically at the door.

his tanned skin had turned a nasty shade of crimson, darker than when eren would pick a fight with jean and steam would flow out of his ears with every punch he sent.

“i told you but you chose not to listen to me,” you informed him, actually stepping further in to the room.

shadis took note of this and began yelling at the top of his lungs, a new form of colourful vocabulary even nile dok hadn’t showed you. interesting.

commandant shadis ran to the window, shaky hands trying to pry it open. you watched him, shaking your head at his obvious stupidity. before you could get a single word in, however, he was ordering you to leave again.

“GET — OUT!”

“no,” you answered back, defiant. “you’re really confusing me you know. when i say i want to leave, you tell me to stay. when i say i don’t want to leave, you tell me to leave. everyone says it’s women that are confusing but oh my gosh, men are just something else!”

as your speech continued (and turned in to a rant) shadis was trying to punch open his window - a stupid move, again, men - as well as try to intervene.

“i will stay in this room and i am not leaving because i know that when i leave — no, don’t interrupt me, i’m speaking — when i leave, you’ll tell me to come back in!”

“WHY WON’T THIS —” he gags “— WINDOW — OPEN?”

commandant shadis begins to wrap a veiny hand around his throat, bent over and breathing out heavily, exhaling as much as he could, but it looked as though it was only worsening things, because he had no choice but to inhale the air right back in again.

he looks up, eyes bloodshot, and you felt like a prey staring at the predator who was about to devour you whole.

“THE DOOR!” he shouted, pointing again.

you turned around, agonisingly slow. what a predicament to be in. he wanted you to open it? or keep it closed? you think you know the answer deep down, but then again, you did warn him, and he willingly chose not to heed it.

“oh don’t worry, sir,” you said, walking over to the door and holding the lock. his eyes widen in.. fear?.. when you switch it. “it’s already locked now. you were saying?”

you seemed to have pissed shadis off to the point where he was now stomping towards you, and each clash of his boot against the wooden floor was only a count down to the distance being closed between you two.

he’s going to ki-

ah fuck!

shadis, now positively fuming, did not hesitate to grab at your hair, pulling hard as he dragged you over to the door which he unlocked with his free hand, striding out and walking down the dimly lit corridors, seething.

“ow — okay, wow — ow!”

“quiet, scum!”

“okay, i would like this hair pulling thing in other circumstances, but you’re being really aggressive right now — ouch!”

in response, shadis simply pulled on your hair harder, and you could have sworn you felt him rip a few strands out. you sigh angrily as the two of you take an abrupt turn to the right, closing in on the mess hall.

“ow!” you hissed, holding onto the wrist that was attached to the hand gripping on to your hair for dear life. “ugh, i brushed through my hair this morning too! you’re gonna get it tangled, you know?”

shadis merely grunted. you were beginning to get irritated.

“never mind, you don’t know. you literally have no hair on your head,” you snapped, trying to free your poor hair from the older man’s clutches. “are you trying to rip it off and glue it on your scalp or something? it’s too — ow — tight! if you wanted me to donate hair to you, you should have just asked!”

and before you knew it, you found yourself being pushed on to the ground, knees scraping hard against the floor. you felt the fabric of your pants tear, and you winced as your hands took a nasty slap to the ground too. you exhaled heavily, looking over your shoulder to see where the bald bastard that did this to you was.

he was exactly where you expected him to be, but in a position you had not expected him to be in: doubled over with his hands gripping on to his kneecaps, sweat beading at his lined forehead, exhaling and coughing uncontrollably. damn, did your fart stink that badly?

why was he being so dramatic? it was literally a bit of bad gas, did he expect you to hold it in? there was absolutely no way you were going to do that, especially not when your mother had warned you about how unhealthy that was. you would be extremely foolish to just ignore her advice; knowing this, you did not regret how all this played out.

a faint cough was heard from beside you, and as you turned so you were sitting on your bottom, held up by your elbows, you looked up to see your fellow comrades, all watching you with wide eyes, some snickering and some looking confused, others looking as though this was long time coming.

you weren’t given the chance to wave or say hi to them, because shadis had cruelly snatched that opportunity away from you, exploding at you in a way that everyone (as well as you) were not used to. if you had him pissed before, he was indignant now, eyes white with rage. shadis looked as though he had aged a hundred times faster, glaring daggers at you. now if looks could kill..

“NEVER, IN MY —”

you shut your eyes, blocking out the cursing because you were still a child.

“— YEARS OF BEING IN THIS —”

you censored it again.

“— PLACE, HAVE I EVER MET SUCH A —”

you opened your eyes, but shut them immediately when you took sight of his face.

“— GIRL, WHO HAS BOTHERED ME TO THE POINT WHERE I’VE HAD TO ENDURE SUCH A —”

well now that was just rude.

“— STENCH LEAVE YOUR USELESS, DIRTY ASS —”

and then you found yourself smiling. why? you didn’t know either, but the way he was yelling at you was rather amusing, with his face twisting in ways you never thought could be even possible..

oh shit.

he caught on.

his eyelids were now completely out of sight, a small twitch in his left eye could be seen from where you were laying. your amazing art of rendering people speechless once more had begun again; a sense of pride swelled inside your chest like fairy dust in an old wives’ tale.

“why,” he began lowly, dangerously, calmly, “are you smiling?”

well you were honest all the way up until this point. what was the use in lying? you know you’ll end up in the stables either way. might as well own it.

“why aren’t you shouting?” you replied innocently. and it wasn’t an act, you did sound innocent the way you posed the question, and you weren’t guilty at all.

commandant shadis inhaled through his nose as if testing to see whether the air was fresh enough for him to breathe in - you didn’t blame him, because your previous gas releasing act must have traumatised him.

a vein was now protruding at his forehead, begging to burst through. he opened his mouth once more but you hurriedly raised a finger at him to halt.

“careful, i like it when people shout at me.”

it wasn’t silent anymore. you could hear gasps, whispers and murmurs surround you. you even heard a faint ‘oh god’ and a grumble of ‘are we really that surprised?’ from somebody too.

the air was thick, now. you felt hot. you had never had the unfortunate event of ever feeling embarrassed but you just revealed a very bad kink to everyone, the people you will be training with for another couple of weeks before you part.

technically, you had previously blindly told people about your weird desires, but in front of every single person in the 104th? in front of your commandant? to your commandant? that was new.. and you knew you had taken it too far..

.. for the man was now struggling to take deep breaths, and wow, you know this will never die down. the eye twitch of his had increased significantly, his fists were clenched at his side, as was his jaw, and the lines on his forehead only became more and more prominent as his brows knitted together to move further down his face. the glare his dark eyes had on you did not force you to waver, but the small smile your own face had claimed had dropped ever so slightly. you wondered whether the face at the back of his head was angry, too.

now a string of curses were leaving his mouth, threats of laps until your heart stops beating were given, and the strides to grip you by your arm had begun. at least he’s not after my hair this time, you thought, sighing as he pulled you up, his blunt nails digging in to the fabric of your jacket and no doubt leaving half moon crescents in to your smooth skin.

you remained stubborn, trying to keep your body as heavy as stone to stall for time, your eyes scanning each face frantically to look for the two people you needed most. at last, after passing over many, many people (including connie, who was struggling to breathe with laughter, sasha, who had taken this as a disturbance and used it as a master plan to steal food off of her friend’s plate, reiner, who was now sweating due to god-knows-what, conflicted again, probably) you found them: jean and marco, both sitting together at your usual table.

you noticed how there was an extra plate across from them, filled with food and by your usual seat. the sweethearts had loyally saved your place.

when jean caught your eye, his face remained expressionless and bored, giving you a ‘seriously?’ kind of look. marco was watching carefully, and every time you made eye contact, he looked away, bashful.

“jean!” you called out over shadis’s loud cursing. all eyes turned to him, but jean did not change his expression in the slightest. “help me — ow!”

your friend watched as you struggled.

“i’m not getting you out of this one,” he told you, your heart dropping at the betrayal.

you thought you had heard him wrong, perhaps it was the fact that shadis was quite literally screaming in your ear that you missed what jean had actually said, so you repeated yourself desperately.

“jean — come on — ouch, can you stop pinching me!”

this time, jean did not respond.

your worries were put to a momentary end when jean stood up. key word: momentary.

he stood up, to help you.. you felt elated, making a mental note to drop the teasing about his small crush on mikasa, only to find yourself confused.. and disappointed at last. he wasn’t going near you at all. he had walked around the table, took what was meant to be your plate, and passed it to sasha, who hungrily took it with no hesitation.

“she won’t be coming back anyway.”

your gaze hardened, face becoming stony as you glared at your friend. when i’m out of this man’s grip, you threatened in your head, just you wait.

so fine, if he wouldn’t help you, then your more loyal friend would. you averted your gaze to marco, who was shaking his head slowly at that human horse’s actions. trust marco to lecture him about this, thank the walls.

“marco!” you called out as a final resort.

what happened next must have been a dream, for marco acted as though he had not heard you. fair enough, perhaps shadis’s voice was ringing in not only your ears, but everyone’s. you’ll call him again.

“marco!” you repeated.

he looked up. finally.

but the kind features on his face, that welcoming look he usually always had diminished instantly, as if it was never his to begin with. he looked down at his half empty plate, poking at his potato.

“yeah.. erm.. i don’t know who she is,” he said, and connie’s laughter only increased at that.

wow.

marco was pretending that you guys weren’t friends, acting as though you didn’t train together nearly every day, faking the fact that you would spend nights picking on jean together (well, that was mostly you, but he was a witness). marco was betraying you too.

you take every word you thought about marco back. he wasn’t an angel, he was a manipulative bitch.

helpless, you felt yourself finally fall limp in shadis’s grip, being dragged away to your doom (which, you notice, is the pathway to the stables).

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“okay you don’t need to hold me, i can walk!” you protested sharply, shaking your arm firmly out of commandant shadis’s iron grip.

he was not impressed, and said absolutely nothing as he dug his nails in to your arm to drag you across the training field.

the heat of the sun was only just beating down on you, covering your once-cool-neck in droplets of sweat. your head felt hot and you knew that if you laid a hand on it, you’d just fry your palm; it did not feel pleasant at all. your feet were only dragging along the grass, you were trying to plant them in to the floor in (what you thought was) a sly attempt to lengthen the journey to the stables where you knew you’d be spending all day in, cleaning horse shit.

“move,” grunted shadis under his breath.

“would it kill you to ask nicely?” you grumbled back, quickly growing irritated with the situation.

“i’m not asking,” responded shadis, teeth gritted, “and the last time i tried being nice, i ended up inhaling a form of gas i shouldn’t have.”

“but —”

“god, have some self control,” sighed shadis exasperatedly, pushing you along.

“hey, now that i think about it,” you began, ignoring the way the man so rudely sighed (and he was exaggerating too), “you didn’t react nearly as badly as you did with sasha when she farted —”

“because i didn’t fall victim to it,” he answered, as the stables where the horses were kept grew closer and closer with each step. “it was probably you anyway.”

should i be offended or proud? you thought to yourself idly, as the sun smiled down maliciously at you.

small beads of sweat were now making themselves comfy on your soft skin; it did not help that the man’s grip on you never faltered once, and this act alone caused your attempt at breaking free to flee. he was breathing down your neck, harsh breaths through his nose that only added to the ridiculous heat of today. you looked around, eyeing the colossal trees as the wind playfully ruffled their leaves, the sound of nature blissfully meeting your ears in a bird song.

the area around you was growing darker as you were forced to march upon the grass, protected by the shadow of the same trees you were gazing at only moments ago. the coolness of the shade as the sunlight fell away was refreshing, like a bottle of ice cold water after training till your legs cramped up and your knees gave in. but something was off, you realised, as you stared up at the sky (a ridiculous decision seeing as the sun was not playing hide and seek with the clouds as it used to do). you were blinded momentarily, spots of green, blue and yellow clouding your vision wherever you looked.

despite this, however, your ears took charge, just as sharp when a twig snapped by the woods. you looked over your shoulder - ignoring the commandant’s grumbling - and foolishly looked around as if the spots weren’t preventing you from seeing much. there was something by the trees, you concluded wisely, brain working like commander erwin’s (well you assumed it did, because that man always looked like he was plotting some complicated shit).

it couldn’t be the cadets because they were all either in the mess hall, or their rooms. some were walking around the training field you had only just been dragged across, and the woods were out of bounds unless it was odm training season.

and then you saw it.

‘it’, because you didn’t know what it was.

a swift movement, so fast, you knew your eyes with normal vision wouldn’t have been able to comprehend it. a movement so agile, even mikasa on full speed gas wouldn’t have been able to compete with it (maybe a close call, but definitely not close enough to beat it). a movement so rapid, you might have even imagined it. a movement that was.. green?

and then there was nothing.

you shrugged it off for more than one reason: as the wooden, dented doors to the stables approached closer than ever, you didn’t hear a thing again. your normal vision was back again, so if must have been the colours that messed with your head. besides, it wasn’t unusual to hear things by the woods, like a twig snapping or the casual crunching of leaves that had fallen from the end of a tree trunk.

you swallowed down the dreadful feeling you were beginning to get - not because of the sight you thought you’d seen earlier, but because you were now forced to clean up horse poo because of the simple fact that you had passed gas.

it didn’t even bother you that the entirety of the 104th know this absurd fact. what bothered you was that you were now at the punishment everyone strived to avoid. even laps till sundown felt more appealing to do than this.

so as you (at last) finally reached the doors of the stables, pushed forward by your shoulders as you scrambled to regain your balance, you turned around to foolishly make a compromise.

“c’mon, commandant, you know i don’t have to do this,” you tried, wincing at the glare he was now sending you.

“my decision is final,” he grunted harshly, “never been more sure in my life.”

he made a small movement to turn.

“wait, wait!” you tried again loudly, swallowing a load of nothing as he side eyed you menacingly. perhaps now wasn’t the best time to piss him off even more.. so, sighing, you shake your head, a frown appearing on your face. “nothing.”

“thought so,” grunted shadis, turning his head the other way in a matter-of-fact type of manner. “up to it, cadet.”

unintentionally, you mimicked him silently, scrunching your face up and shaking your head in an exaggerative manner, mouthing the last four words he had just uttered to you. unfortunately, this did not bring you as much amusement as you wished it had, because he wasn’t even looking in your direction: he was walking away, or.. stomping away, rather. men are such drama queens, aren’t they?

you sighed, reluctantly turning on the spot and gazing up at your new home. it was very unlikely you’d spend any time training seeing as shadis seemed to have been final with his decision. usually, when he was really pissed off, you’d miss an hour of training to clean the mess hall, so it was only safe to assume that you would spend all your time with horse shit from now on. how.. eventful.

sourly, you began unlocking the wooden doors to your doom, pulling at the old-fashioned lock as you accepted your fate, frowning all the while. what had shocked you, however, was your name being called by the very man who had banished you to this very spot you wanted so desperately to leave. eager for anything to increase more time between you and the cleaning of horse poop, you swivelled on the spot, hissing inwardly as your exposed knee (curtesy of the commandant himself) scratched against the tree directly beside you. perhaps your excitement was a little too much, and could render you benched even after your punishment if you continued like this.

“yes sir?” you answered back, unsure of whether you should salute or not. perhaps not, just out of spite.

“you don’t have watchful eyes or ears, but unfortunately for me, you’re the only one i can ask as of now,” began commandant shadis, looking straight through you (quite literally, because his glare was that piercing and fierce).

you lifted your chin in questioning. curiosity engulfed your body whole, and the stinging sensation in your knee was only worsening, but you waited silently, patiently as the commandant continued.

“did you spot any movement in the woods, west side?”

you could practically fly with glee, no gear needed for the impossible. ‘yes, yes, yes i did,’ you were almost quick to answer, but then that would shorten the conversation and you’d be back to completing your very unhygienic task.

“when we were walking over here,” you confirmed honestly, trying your hardest to prevent your voice from cracking from the exhilaration you were currently feeling. “i saw movement.”

“i am going crazy then,” sighed shadis, shaking his head.

“why would you say that?” you asked, with genuine curiosity.

“because you said it.”

you frowned at him, realising what he had just said.

“bold of you to assume only this makes you crazy,” you accidentally spilled out. the realisation of what you had said caused your eyes to widen and your interest in the bland trees beside you to increase, so you turned on the spot, eyeing them in order to avoid eye contact with the commandant. even doing so, you could feel his glare burning holes in to the side of your cheek, so reluctantly, you looked back.

shit, he’s still staring.

look away..

okay look back now, should be done.

never mind, he’s persistent as fuck.

you mentally groaned before shakily pointing to the home of the horses behind you.

“i’ll just — er — yeah,” you stammered out, hastily turning away before he could say anything more.

this was going to be a long day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“stop it!” you sobbed, slamming your hands down on the hay as the midnight coloured horse in front of you looked down at you and snorted.

it had only been five minutes and you were a weeping wreck. now you understood why people avoided pissing shadis off, but in your defence, the last five minutes felt like five long and dawdling centuries doing the repetitive action of cleaning, only to then find that these beautiful (but stupid) horses have smeared their faeces over the wooden walls for you to clean again. sue me for crying, you thought frustratedly, using your sleeve to wipe away the fat tears gliding down your cheek in such an elegant manner.

really and truly, this was all erwin’s fault. you were going to lecture him when you find him, although you wouldn’t be too surprised if he attempted to avoid you from now on (that’s a lie, you’d be offended and shocked that your partner-in-crime decided to even think of such a thing).

you could hear faint voices outside - curtesy of the door being left slightly ajar to allow sunlight inside, lord knows what could pop out in the dark thanks to jean’s spooky story-telling that you stubbornly said were, indeed, not frightening at all - and it seemed to be the only thing that could pique your interest in this very moment. the horses were beginning to get on your nerves anyway, especially the one with the darkest fur, that one looked as though it were mocking your crisis. you threw the wet rag on to the floor and slowly rose from your kneeling position, grimacing after surpassing the most recent poo smeared over the walls; you listened intently.

the first voice you recognised almost immediately was shadis’s, gruff and deep, and with a slight hint of amusement? now that definitely hooked you in like a kid to sugar. who in wall rose was chatting up the untouchable commandant of the training corps? that man was picky, you could tell, and he was definitely not the easiest to please.

a tingling sensation ran up your spine, one so intriguing, you hand immediately flew to your face, rubbing away the excess salty water from mere seconds ago. what if it was a woman?

being part of the training corps was fun, sure, but it had been a long while since there was some juicy gossip around here. the only thing you had been latching on to was the love triangle that was jean, eren, and mikasa, and even that was bland, seeing as jean was clearly the third-wheeler. you found yourself beginning to carefully walk over, making sure the hay beneath you made as little noise as ever. this was news, just imagine the look on marco’s face when you tell hi—

marco.

marco that butt.

it hurts to think of him after that brutal betrayal.

it’s okay, because jean would most definitely find interest in —

jean.

jean that horse.

it hurts much worse to think of him after he monotonously handed your plate of bland food over to someone else directly in front of you.

their loss, you had concluded, as you grew nearer and nearer to the gap between the door. you still wanted to know who commandant shadis was so smitten by, regardless of whether you had marco and jean to tell or not. maybe this would be the information that could cover up your little.. incident.. that everyone was now aware of. you could practically hear their laughter ringing in your ears even now.

your plan was almost completely put to ruins when the other horses began neighing. you whipped your head back in obvious annoyance, surprised your neck hadn’t snapped right there and then.

“shush!” you hushed them, brows knitting together in contained fury. “go smear your shit somewhere.”

oh, well that was hypocritical.

you were now abruptly reminded of how shadis always wanted the opposite action from you, and when you did it, he would backtrack and say he wanted the first one. the same case has been used here with these horses, and you could even swear that the midnight one was sending you a look that said ‘look at this hypocrisy’.

before you could even begin to apologise to the poor horses you had scolded prior to this, you caught on to the second voice, presumably the one that you had supposed was shadis’s secret lover. but.. this voice was deep - muffled, yes - but deep. or maybe you were hearing it wrong, perhaps there was a much larger distance between you and them, perhaps the voices were more muffled than you thought, perhaps that was why this supposed ‘woman’ sounded more like a man. however, it’s true that many women could have deep voices too, so maybe that was it. maybe he was with a woman with a deep voice. or maybe he was with a man instead? who’s to say that the commandant wasn’t attracted to men?

you waved your hand frantically at the horses on the right that were making way too much noise, noise that was blocking out what you could hear of the conversation between shadis and his lover.

your pushed your head ever so slightly between the door and its frame, in to the gap and exposed to the sunlight. your eyes burned and watered, for you had been sheltered in the dark for more than five minutes, your eyes needed to adjust. blinking rapidly, as the pair’s conversation continued, your turned your head in the direction of their voices. the problem was, however, that you couldn’t see them anywhere. all around you was grass, trees, and the building further down where the rest of your fellow cadets were inside, no doubt eating the leftovers that were meant for you.

exhaling frustratedly to relieve yourself of the thought of the traitors, you squinted your eyes to get a better view ahead. they were still talking, and this time (now that you were fully concentrated) you could make out almost every single word..

as well as who the voices belonged to.

and that was including the second, manly voice.

one that you had presumed you would have had to wait to hear for at least a couple of weeks, after the faction selection part had occurred, so why were you hearing it now?

gripping on to the door frame so tight your knuckles turned pale, you leaned forward, one leg out in the open, half your head in view. eyes darting left and right, the minute the next sentence was uttered, you found them. they were standing near a tree farther to the left of the stables, conversing with each other about the 104th, and your suspicions were proven to be correct.

his stature could be recognised from miles away, different from any other male here in the training corps (along with the fact that he was wearing a cape with the wings of freedom etched beautifully on his back). your breath hitched in your throat, and abruptly, your back slammed against the wooden walls, knees buckling as he spoke once more. it was really him. captain levi was here, within a few metre range from you. but then that struck up the question. what the hell was captain levi doing here? it’s only weeks before the faction selection part would happen, why was he here so early?

as nosy as you were, you concluded that perhaps you would find out why he was here if you eavesdropped. you could almost sing, this was far better than sitting in the mess hall and eating. jean could give away anything of yours at this point, and you wouldn’t even bat an eye.

“many of the squirms are under the stupid impression that being part of the scout regiment is lightweight,” you heard the commandant’s gruff voice say. well, he wasn’t wrong.

“you mean to tell me that this years’ cadets have no backbone?” the captain responded, sounding as though he had almost expected this to happen.

your heart began hammering against your chest with such ferocity, you could swear it to be possible if it jumped out of your chest right there and then. you were going absolutely feral at the sound of his dulcet tones, and because of this, you were now promptly reminded of how this had never happened to you because of anyone else. how had a man you had only known for less than a week danced his way in to your heart?

you peaked your head out again. no, you concluded, he didn’t look much like a dancer to be fair.

suddenly, shadis’ head turned. your eyes widened.

you disappeared out of sight almost instantly. shit, shit, shit, you had thought all the while.

had he seen you? was he now under the impression that you were, in fact, not cleaning like you were ordered to? was he now walking over this way? what now?

your panic was put to rest the second you heard the conversation continue. perhaps he was just looking around, like any normal person would.

well that didn’t sound right. because you knew him very well, and you knew that shadis was anything but normal. at the same time, however, neither were you.

“no,” grunted shadis, and despite not being able to get a view of him, you could practically see the deep frown painted over his face, “there are a few that have potential. fat egos, but a lot of potential..”

there was a short pause before the conversation continued. even from this distance, you could hear the exasperated sigh he let out.

“why do you look like that?”

“like what?”

“like you’re constipated.”

you almost laughed, slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent anything from slipping past your smooth lips. the thing is, if you began laughing, there was no stopping. not only that, but it was loud too, and that would expose your undercover mission of eavesdropping on your two superiors, something you could not afford if you ever stood a chance with captain levi.

however, as soon as the amusement came, it went. your mouth, turned up with contained laughter, flipped itself upside down with a frown. you could feel the crease between your eyebrows beginning to form as the realisation began setting in: commandant shadis was having a conversation with his lover, right? and this conversation - which just so happened to be with captain levi - was almost flirtatious. the blood beneath your skin began to simmer on low heat, but all you could see was red. teeth gritted, it took all your sane thoughts to keep you rooted to the spot, to prevent revealing yourself and the state you were in, but that did not stop the murderous thoughts plaguing your mind like a disease deadlier than anything the people in the wall encountered.

commandant shadis was conversing in a flirtatious conversation with your beloved. he was shamelessly talking with someone who just so happened to be your husband. you felt like jean, who lost his crush to his competition, and yours just so happened to be with the very man who had ordered you to clean until your hands became calloused.

and suddenly it all clicked.

he had done this to prevent you from intervening with the captain, because he knew that once your appeared back in to the picture, the captain would wriggle his way out of the commandant’s iron grip to fall straight in to yours.. yours which were much, much gentler and lovelier.

teeth gritted, with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth, you fumed silently, listening in. if it’s a competition commandant shadis wants, it’s a competition that he’ll get, you maliciously thought to yourself.

“there’s a cadet here who’s intent on joining the scouts. lots of potential, but will give you a headache with whatever she does - that sharp tongue of hers.”

“that drive will get her nowhere but dead on an expedition.”

“i’d be surprised if she willingly went to an expedition,” snorted commandant shadis, and despite being unable to see him, you could practically see the glare he was sending to whomever he had the chance to.

who was this cadet that the superiors were talking about? one thing for sure was that it was a girl with extreme potential: annie leonhart? you shook your head dismissively; she was joining the military police brigade, and this was a well known fact since the day her and eren were sparring. perhaps you could send a message to nile dok through her, seeing as you were banned from giving it to him yourself (which is extremely unfair, you have to add).

no, it was most definitely not annie. however, there seemed to be a choice much better than annie, and that was the 104th’s current number one: mikasa ackerman.

mikasa was a girl, and very rarely had a tongue sharper than the very blades she uses to slice open those cardboard titan’s during odm training. when she did show us some of her wit, it was the type that was harsher than anything anyone has ever heard of (which made it all the more amusing to watch). eren had decided that he wanted to be part of the scouts, and you knew that wherever eren went, his friends would follow (that was including mikasa). not only that, but she’s stronger than everyone in the 104th, so if it’s potential shadis was commenting on, potential is exactly what mikasa has. still, the word ‘potential’ gives off the idea that she could do better, which contradicts mikasa greatly due to the fact that she could get no better than she already is: she’s number one for fucks sake. and you couldn’t ignore the fact that mikasa could never give any of the superiors headaches, not when she did everything perfectly first try without even intentionally showing off. the girl was brave as fuck, too, why would she surprise shadis if she willingly went to an expedition? she’d go to one without question.

so no, not mikasa.

but then that only makes room for one other person you could think of.. and you knew her very well, to be fair.

it was..

most definitely..

sasha braus!

she’d given the commandant a headache on the very first day, when everyone first enlisted in to the training corps. she’s a girl, she ranks number nine, which means that there is room for improvement as well as the fact that she’s headstrong too (showing definite potential). the only thing stopping you from considering the fact that she might be the right candidate for this topic is the idea that sasha was undecided, she had told you a mere week ago about how she wasn’t too sure what military branch she would go for and that she’d have to hurry up and make her mind. that did still show that there’s a possibility she might choose the scout regiment, you thought wisely, and if she did, there’s a chance that she might back out of an expedition..

yep, she was the best candidate, you decided, growing more intrigued as the conversation continued.

“the expeditions are a requirement. if she doesn’t go to them, what’s the damn point?”

“trust me when i say this, captain, she will find a way to escape ‘em if she has to.”

there was a silence that engulfed them completely, where all that could be heard were the chirping of the birds, the rustle of the tree leaves, and the faint sound of laughter from somewhere down the fields of grass. you didn’t even feel isolated from it anymore, you felt you would much rather be eavesdropping than joining in on whatever was happening in the mess hall (you’d be damned if it was about you, too).

“at least she’ll be out of my hands. good luck.”

“good luck?” repeated captain levi, as if the words were like poison to the mouth. and even then, with him sounding as though he’d rather be titan food than meet this cadet, his voice still remained as majestic as ever.

“three years,” you heard the commandant sigh, “three years of the same bullshit she spews up. this might be the first time you send someone back.”

“i’ll leave that to erwin,” captain levi responded. “it’s likely i’ll never meet whoever you’re talking about. not when we all have separate squads to lead.”

“oh you will hear about her,” riposted shadis swiftly. “whether you’re all the way in mitras and she’s all the way residing in wall rose. if she’s part of your regiment, you will most definitely hear about her. word of advice: assign her to stable duty, it’s the most peace and quiet you’ll ever get. i learned the hard way.”

your stomach flipped over itself. stable duty? but sasha has never been sent to clean the stables. nobody has. the only person who has, however, is..

“and this is supposed to be recent?”

“it’s right now, captain.”

you.

they were talking about you.

this entire time you had been under the impression that sasha was the person they were having a conversation about, but it was you the entire fucking time. it was you when shadis mentioned how intent you were on joining the scouts, it was you when he said that there was potential in this case, it was you when he exasperatedly told captain levi about the headaches you give him, it was you all along.

now you were completely blind with rage. everything around you was the shade of what you imagined commandant shadis’s blood to be: crimson and runny, because it was the topic of you that he was using to shamelessly flirt with captain levi.

flattered as you were about how only the topic of you was able to bring out a conversation between them, you were irked with the idea that he was trying to win the captain over by slandering your name without actually saying your name.

to make matters worse, that midnight dark horse was now breathing down your neck. you shivered under the hot wind from its nostrils as you took several steps back. expecting to collide with the wall you had previously leaned against, you lost your balance.

your stomach was now in your throat, eyes widening with the sudden realisation that there was nothing to grab on to, arms still searching despite being well aware of that fact. your legs tripped back over one another as you flew down, accepting your fate with a cold heart, eyes closing as you took the scores in your head, back callously meeting the hard concrete below you.

shadis - 1 : me - 0.

pain shot up your spine, your head pounding and a harsh breath leaving your mouth. you had been caught, you knew it, because over the chirps of the birds and the rustling of the leaves hanging on the tree branches, your brilliant ears caught on to the vague sound of a grunt, whether it be from the captain or the commandant, you had no clue.

but that didn’t matter to you, not nearly as much as the anger you felt towards that damned horse that blew you cover (excusing the fact that you would have stormed up to the flirty pair yourself anyway, but at least that entrance would have been way cooler than this harsh reveal). your head was pounding, you could feel the warm sun over your face, laughing at your foolishness; even in the darkness you had shut yourself up in (eyes being shut tight and all) bright spots of colours clouded your vision, pink and blue, green and orange. they began forming weird shapes, very weird, like sludges of mud when falling in to a puddle during training with jean and marc—

“on your feet, cadet!”

for fuck’s sake —

“i couldn’t even if i wanted to,” you responded, and had your eyes been opened, you would have seen the way in which the captain’s eyebrows rose up further in to his forehead at your response (and perhaps, your appearance, too?).

you dared yourself to open your eyes, but thought better of it. instead, you turned and laid on your side, the left side of your cheek resting against the hot grass. that brought you not comfort, you quickly noticed.

when you received no response from commandant shadis, you huffed, astonished with how he cared about formalities in your horrible situation.

“sir,” you uttered through gritted teeth, completing your sentence angrily.

perhaps you’d have been in a much better state if you were aware of the fact that captain levi was standing over you, but you were only aware of shadis, under the impression that the captain had better things to do than seeking out the clumsy cadet that landed right on her ass.

“a horrible impression you’re leaving for the captain of the regiment you’re dying to join, squirm.”

now that opened your eyes.

foolish, again, because the blinding light of the sun cause you to groan and bring your hands up to your face to turn on the spot and shut your eyes once more. hearing the snort from your commandant got your blood boiling under high heat, heat rising to your neck and tips of your ears as you scrambled to get on your feet, stumbling slightly as you saluted. it was important to note just who you were saluting at, because it was certainly not for keith shadis.

you opened your eyes, ignoring the sting of the light, because no sting would ever prevent you from seeing what you were blessed with now: captain levi was definitely sculpted to break the hearts of many, many girls.. with dark hair resembling his grey eyes, resembling a storm on a cold winter’s day. the deep frown that called his face home only complimented his features further, but only caused you to wonder just how stunning he’d look if he smiled.

a lightbulb switched on over your head. new task, you thought excitedly, make the captain smile.

you knew it wouldn’t be an easy task, for the captain must have adopted this lack of emotion for good reason, maybe because of all the things he had seen in his time with the scouts. however, you were determined to bring him some form of happiness, however long it took. besides, it couldn’t be too hard. you had a very good streak with rendering people speechless and causing them to have their bellies aching from loud laughter.

but where you looked at him with eyes sparkling in delight, he looked back at you with half-lidded ones, unamused.

okay, so it was definitely going to be hard to get on his good side. what a brilliant first impression.

“a future scout, huh?” were the first four words that captain levi had ever spoken to you, and god did it have you absolutely spiralling. still, you refused to make it obvious that you were sending heart eyes at him (at least, in front of the commandant. in private it may be a different scenario).

“she wanted to be part of the garrisons first,” your new enemy, keith shadis, intervened. “had a change of heart, it seems.”

“no i never,” you lied, thinking of how captain levi may never want to be with someone who considered a regiment different to his to begin with. keith shadis is playing a good game, you thought, panicked. he was definitely making you get on the captain’s bad side so he could then win him over, but you saw right through him. “i’ve always wanted to be a scout.”

the commandant’s left eye twitched.

that’s right, you thought maliciously, i can play your game too.

he seemed to be taken aback with how you realised what he was doing. a voice at the back of your head was suggesting that maybe the commandant was surprised that you were lying about something you were so proud of, but you brushed it aside dismissively, almost one hundred percent certain it was because of how smart you were at how you easily figured out his feelings for the captain, wasting no time at all at that.

“lying to your superiors is another reason for me to send you back inside. just make sure you don’t fall on your ass again,” said keith shadis, almost as though it were a threat.

“i’m not lying,” you retorted stubbornly.

“would cadets kirstein and bott plead your case?”

now that startled you.

wow, you hadn’t realised how good of a game keith shadis could play. but of course he could, for the few days that you knew the captain for could not possibly compete with the many years he knew the captain for.

it’s okay, you convinced yourself calmly, because captain levi and i have more chemistry than him and captain levi do.

your eyes immediately met the captain’s, aware that if there was any sort of chemistry, you’d be making out in front of your competition right now.

whatever. it’s a couple’s thing, you concluded.

right now you had to deal with the man who was knowingly trying to steal your husband.

“i have no idea who you’re talking about,” your answered wisely. “but you could always ask sasha.”

now there was a very good reason why you suggested her, because in favour of this, you would offer her your dinner without question. there were many times you had sasha backing you for trouble you’ve caused, because food was the only thing you had to offer that she would blindly accept. thank god for sasha braus.

keith shadis clasped his hands behind his back, straightening himself up as he glared at you. good, you were slowly winning.

“indecisive about the regiments,” said keith lowly, “that won’t make a good scout.”

“you’d be surprised,” the captain intervened swiftly, eyes unlacing from your smaller figure, “even the incompetent turn out to survive the longest.”

despite your face proving silent surprise, your insides were celebrating, mind reeling at the thought that captain levi had sided with you. you smugly turned your head just the slightest bit to eye keith shadis, who was still glaring at you.

you retook the points in your head.

keith - 1: me - 1.

“what are you grinning about?” demanded captain levi, who was now staring straight through your soul with a piercing gaze.

you frowned ever so slightly. he really looked as though he were sculpted with such elegance even when he was glaring. the only thing you found slightly wrong was how he was choosing to glare at you rather than the home-wrecker next to him.

“so all it took was the captain of the scout regiment to wipe that smirk off your face, huh?” snorted keith, your arch nemesis. “if i’d known that earlier, i’d have done it three years ago.”

“yeah, well, no one asked.”

silence.

complete and utter silence.

a calm before the storm, really, where shadis and captain levi both watched you: shadis’ breath beginning to be heaved out of his nose and captain levi’s face forming an expression of mild surprise. and you, however, remained rooted to your spot, no regret eating at your insides like they usually would when you would sense an incoming earful from your commandant. perhaps it was because of the fact that you knew keith shadis was after your husband that made you bolder than you’d ever been in your life, but whatever it really was, you thanked it endlessly as without it, you’d have already ran back inside to clean without question.

“i wasn’t aware that i needed permission from a trainee to speak,” keith spat out with venom, callously reminding you that yes, indeed, you were much lower ranking in comparison to him.

you narrowed your eyes at your superior, who clearly knew exactly what he was doing.

“i’m graduating in a matter of a couple of weeks,” you reminded him, and because he knew you so well, he could hear the smugness in your voice that, perhaps, captain levi could not. “and when i’m part of the scouts, you can’t boss me around anymore, keith.”

his eye twitched.

oh fuck.

not a good sign..

but i’m not scared?

why am i not scared?

“what did you just call me?” questioned the commandant, looking just as shocked as he had once been when sasha had offered him half of her potato.

you raised a brow.

“your name?” you answered, allowing it to sound more like a question than it did a statement. “you’re really confusing you know. did you forget your own na—”

“I KNOW MY OWN NAME, CADET, BUT IT SEEMS AS THOUGH YOU’VE FORGOTTEN YOURS!” he bellowed, so unexpectedly, your had to take a step back to allow the ringing in your ears to stop.

as you rubbed your right ear and stared at him through knitted brows, you did not stop to mention how wrong he was.

“what’re you talking about? i know my name. it’s y/n —”

“he meant your position,” interrupted captain levi, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. he stood there, looking up at shadis with disappointment. “you’ve lost your control, old man. last year’s cadets weren’t nearly as brave as this single one. mind telling me what happened?”

this was your cue, you decided proudly. taking a sheepish step back, you intervened.

“i can.”

both eyes shifted straight back to you. where the commandant was looking thoroughly exasperated, the captain was looking annoyed, with something else hiding behind his cold exterior of blandness.. it looked like he was almost intrigued? or had you read the lines wrong again..?

“but before i begin on that, i want to let you know, kei— i mean, commandant shadis, sir, that jean told me to do it.”

“jean?” repeated commandant shadis, with an air of confusion.

you nodded.

“jean,” you confirmed matter-of-factly. “he told me to call you keith. and as for why keith has been slacking, captain,” you added, turning to captain levi, “he —”

“get back to work, cadet,” sighed captain levi, rolling his eyes before you could even finish your sentence. “inside the stables. now.”

you nodded without hesitation, rushing back inside with butterflies in your stomach. as you slowly closed the wooden door separating yourself and your superiors, the little light left in the stables diminishing the more you pushed the wood, your back immediately met the wall, sliding down in amazement as you drowned yourself in your thoughts.

looking at him up close was a gift sent from god-knows-who, but you thanked them nonetheless. the idea that captain levi sent you back inside because he was siding with you and not keith made your insides dance with joy, the giddy feeling rushing back to you faster than mikasa on odm. you retook the points in your head one last time, before cleaning the poo with a new, positive mindset:

(captain levi’s wife) y/n - 2: (ugly, bald, home-wrecker) keith - 1

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

he felt bad.

he knew he shouldn’t, a new situation with you and the commandant arose nearly every week, he dares say every day, even, and every damn time, you tried to use him or marco as an escape plan.

to be fair, it wasn’t really his fault that he refused again. besides, what could he have done? attack the commandant, grab you, and run? risk his position as the current number six?

you, obviously, would say ‘yes! what’s wrong with that?’ and then give him a good smack round the back of his head as punishment so he knew for next time, but still, jean felt just the tiniest bit bad for refusing you.

even though he shouldn’t. that was very important to note. he should. not. feel. bad.

yet he did.

and then he felt worse when word got around that you were dragged to the stables. nobody ever pissed shadis off that much to end up there. but of course, you did. you just had to.

jean was currently leaving the boys’ barracks, slyly attempting to see if you had made it round to the next set of training exercises. the window just past the door to commandant shadis’ office was large enough to see every bit of grass that people were training on. he grimaced when he caught sight of annie tackling eren with little effort. that girl was dangerous.

“kirstein,” came a gruff voice from just down his neck, where heavy breaths were being laid.

jean froze up, every muscle in his body becoming tense and tight, like a knot difficult to untie. he turned on the spot and knowingly saluted, aware of all the mistakes you usually made in the presence of the commandant so that he (cleverly) never made any.

“sir!” he voiced firmly, heat now flying all around his body, hiding specifically under his pits where sweat was beginning to form. what was he so nervous about? he had done nothing wrong.

the commandant did not fail to notice this.

“you look like you’re causing mischief, maggot,” he stated as though it were a definite fact. “and scared shitless you’ll be caught. perfect for titan meal.”

what?

what the fuck does that even mean?

“i plan on joining the military police.. sir,” jean dared to reply.

commandant shadis snorted.

what do i do? thought jean, panicked. do i laugh? agree? what the fuck is happening right now?

“cadet l/n won’t be impressed.”

“she isn’t,” said jean hastily, guilt circling his stomach. “sir.”

“i was always under the impression that she got herself in to trouble because she didn’t know how to control herself,” began commandant shadis, as if telling a life story. jean listened intently. “part of that is true, do not get that mistaken. i learned today.”

jean held his breath.

“but you know what she did when i spoke to her?”

jean shook his head shakily. “what did she say.. sir?”

the commandant raised his brow. “so you know it’s what she said and not what she did, huh?”

“i —” stammered jean, confused. “i don’t under—”

“she said something, you know. to me. how did you know?”

“i didn’t..” jean answered, shaking with nerves. shit, sound real. “i just know her really well, sir.”

“that well, huh?” marvelled the commandant. “any idea what she said?”

jean laughed dryly. “probably something stupid, right? sir?”

“she called me keith.”

oh fuck.

oh shit.

what the fuck y/n?

jean found himself holding his breath, and something was tickling his nose like a feather, daring him to laugh. he wanted to laugh. he wanted to joke about this all day and night. he wanted to turn around and wallow in laughter. but he couldn’t, not with the commandant watching his every move through narrowed eyes.

he sucked in a load of air and kept them inside his cheeks. perhaps he could play this off as being annoyed at your antics.

“you find this funny, eh?”

“no, sir,” he responded, breathing out a little of the air he had sucked in. “not at all, sir.”

“i would assume that the very person who told her to do it would find it amusing, kirstein.”

now that stopped him from laughing.

he ran the commandant’s words through his head one more time.

i would assume that the very person who told her to do it would find it amusing, kirstein.

hang on a second, jean thought in a panic, but before he could plead his innocence, commandant shadis’ hand flew up, grabbed at his ear, and jean was being dragged across the training field in a hurry.

as all eyes were on him, jean cursed you multiple times in his head. every inch of guilt he once felt now died out as if it was never there to begin with.

“fuck you, y/n.”

“you should be grateful!” you snapped, wiping your hands with a wet paper towel as you gestured to the horses surrounding you two. “i brought you home to your family!”

and as jean made eye contact with the horse that had managed to piss him off the most compared to the rest, he made a mental note never to cross you again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

geez, 2 months since the first chap 😭 i’m so sorry, i’ve just been really busy with exams and studying like mad bc good grades = good future, but in exchange, i’ve given you a chapter over 10k words, so like y/n said to jean, be grateful :)

anyways enjoy this while i take another month juggling writing + studies 😭 i wanna kms omds

all characters belong to hajime isayama, apart from y/n, who i've inserted in to the story myself.

previous chapter :) next chapter :)

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cassandra-has-moonlit-eyes · 6 months

Text

Notes on the Il Sistina Cats production

I was able to see the Il Sistina Production on three seperate days: 19.10.2023 20:30, 20.10.2023 20:30 and 21.10.2023 16:00. These are my notes on this production.

I will use headlines so you can skip parts you don't want to read.

I'm a lazy ass bitch so I will use the English names and not the Italian ones.

First day I had the full cast.

Second day Grizabella was covered by another actress who played Grizabella a little bit different. Unfortunetly I didn't catch her name when they anounced it.

Third day Quaxo was missing so his lines went to Alonzo.

Stage/Setting:

The Il Sistina production doesn't take place in London but in Rome. This is mostly shown by the setting but is also referenced in the lyrics (I do not speak Italian, but I understand some words). There is for example a street sign on stage which says: "Largo di Torre Argentina" which is a place in Rome and the LED wall in the background shows the Colosseum most of the time. There is also a Roman water fountain on the right side which even dispenses (fake?) water. The is also a street sign with "Via della Gatta" (Street of Cats)

Characters/Cast:

They have a lot of chorus characters: Quaxo is a seperate character from Mistoffelees, they have Jemima AND Syllabub, Electra, Etcetera, George and Bill Bailey who is also named Carbuckety.

This season Bustopher Jones and Skimbleshanks are palyed by the same actor, he plays Bustopher Jones during the first act and Skimble during the second.

Gus is a seperate character with a very strong chorus identity which also takes part in the ball and in the Macavity fight.

The Macavity chorus identity is called Admetus.

Songs and characters:

Jellicle Cats:

Munkustrap is the first character on stage. His make up and wig are the only ones I do not like, but the actor, Sergio Giagomelli, is very good. He does a lot of dancing too. Second on stage is Demeter but she is later scared away by chorus Gus who wants to sit on her spot.

The number is very energetic and I really love the choreography. It "quotes" some of the Lynne Choreo but also the new Broadway one.

The Naming of Cats:

During this song they have the poem on the wall in the background which I found very distracting. They also changed some of the names. One name was Marc Aurel which was fun. The cats move when their names are mentioned. Bombalurina is very dramatic. Her collar sparkles a lot.

White Cat Solo:

Victoria dances next to the fountain. It was very beautiful. At the end Munkustrap joins her and lifts her up.

Invitation to the Jellicle Ball:

After Victoria's solo the lines usually given to Misto are given to the Quaxo character. On the day Quaxo was missing it was given to Alonzo. Still Misto isn't a mute characters, he has some lines later in the play.

The Old Gumbie Cat:

Il Sistina plays that bit where Misto thinks Munkustrap wants to sing and where he is quite disapointed when he doesn't. He needs som comfort by Tanto and Cori afterward. Meanwhile Tugger is still on stage which I've never seen before. Now it's his chance to be annoyed by her. The Gumbie Trio is absolutly amazing, all three of them are even more prominent during the musical. Gus wants to play with Demeters tail but she just smiles at him and goes away to dance with Jelly and Bomba.

Jennyanydots wears a ball of wool. There is tap dancing and rope jumping, mice and cockroaches, but the cockroaches are just knee socks. The number is very fun and energetic.

The Rum Tum Tugger:

First of all I absolutly adore the Tugger design. He is not black but gold, has amazing Make up with a heart and golden glitter eyeshadow. He doesn't have his mane but a big belt and during his number he also wears a white leather jacket. Gus more or less introduces him by showing the audience a poster which advertises one of his shows. First the Gumbie Trio, two younger kittens, Mistoffelees and Mungojerrie dance while Tugger sings. One after another the other Cats return. First Mistoffelees and Mungojerrie try to hold the other girls back (Cassandra and Tanto included) but no chance. They storm the stage.

The line usually sung by Misto, Alonzo or Munkustrap is given to Quaxo again (The terrible bore one). On the day Quaxo was missing it was given to Alonzo again.

The Gumbie Trio also plays a very prominent role in this song. Bombalurina has a great interest in Tugger, Jellylorum is very entertained and enjoys the show and the flirting, Demeter is not that amused by Tugger and his flirting but Vibes with the other Cats and joins the choreo. Sometimes she looked very shocked at him, it was really fun. The acting by Viviana Salvo (Demeter) and Natalia Scarpolini (Jellylorum) is absolutly great during this number, same for Giorgia Cino (Bombalurina).

Giorgia Adamo who plays Tugger does a really great job with his voice and acting. I flirted a lot with the audience. Really cool, really flirty Tugger.

Interesting staging choices were made too: At the end the fangirls do not stay on stage. They place themselves between orchestra pit and audience and look up to the stage where Tugger is performing, so they themselves become part of the audience. Jemima is fangirl number one and screams for Tugger until he shushes her.

Grizabella: The Glamour Cat

All in all the auditorium (Zuschauerraum) is playing a big part in the staging choices. At the end of number Tugger goes down one of the corridors and starts to hiss because he sees Grizabella. He turns around and goes back on stage. Grizabella is following him. First part of her song she sings next to the orchestra pit, then she wants to enter the stage. Munkustrap doesn't want that to happen so he blocks her path. He doesn't want her on stage, as part of the Jellicle Ball or even the play on a meta level. They stare each other down and Grizabella wins the fight. Munkustrap steps back and she can enter the stage.

Tugger attacks her coat and Electra hisses her while Jeima wants to touch her, but not on Munkustraps watch. Demeter and Bombalurina sing the rest of the song, then Grizabella leaves on the other side of the stage again.

I would say in this production Munkustrap and Tugger are her biggest foes. They do not want her around, while Old Deuteronomy and Jemima are her biggest allies.

Bustopher Jones

There is a stone foot on the right side of the stage. This is where Bustopher Jones lives. There is a hole in the foot and he pops out of there on multiple occasions. I didn't understand much of the lyrics but this Bustopher Jones loves Sushi. Jenny is very happy to sing about him, Bombalurina not so much.

Similar to the Broadway Revival this number works with a lot of food shaped props. It's very wholesome and fun.

Bustopher Jones is very involved in the first act, sadly he wasn't in the second act because then the actor plays Skimbleshanks.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

After Bustopher Jones the Macavity scare happens and interesting enough Macavity really makes an appearance. He wears a coat and a hat. There are lights on underneath his brim (Krempe?), so you can see his face. He has a very evil laughter.

Rosella Lubrina (Rumpleteazer) and Simone Raggozino (Mungojerrie) are both absolutly amazing. Simone does a lot of acrobatics, not just during his number but also during other numbers. The number is very fun with its own choreography and some propbs, like a newspaper article which is about them, a fifty Euro bill and a bucket with holes. The ending of the number is more dynamic but they also do a short version of the cartwheel.

Also Bustopher Jones makes another appearance. He wars a cooks head so I think he sang the line conected to the cook in the lyrics.

The other cats do not seem to dislike them but celebrate them which makes a lot of sense. They do some sort of Polonaise to celerbrate them.

Old Deuteronomy

Mistoffelees announces Old Deuteronomy and then Munkustrap and Tugger sing the song together while Old Deuteronomy goes around in the auditorium, mostly on the first floor.

I think Fabritio Corucci who plays Old Deuteronomy is an Opera singer because sounds very operatic.

The Jellicle Ball

The ball starts and I absolutly loved the choreography. Very fun. One thing I noted during the whole show is that there is a lot emphasis on individuality during the dance numbers. They are synchron but do not move exactly the same, the dancers bring their own style and interpretations to the movements which fits cats very well. Also there are dance groups but these groups are not strict. Cats leave their groups to join the dancing of other groups. Absolutly greatly thought through.

At the beginning of the Ball the make a formation where Cassandra is front center. There is a part during the choreography where Demeter dances alone while the two other groups dance around her. The choreographer knows which characters are important!

The first part of the Bomba section is danced by Bomba, Demeter, Jennyanydots and two other Cats. It's very acrobartic with jumps, splits and floor work, the second part of the Bomba sections are pairs, but other Cats: Tanto and Cori, Mungo and Rump, Misto and Etcetera(?), Munk and Victoria ... They do a dance with lifts. All in all there are more lifts than in the Lynne choreo, more like the Broadway choreo.

Also there is no Victoria x Plato dance. The cats dance in a group while Jemima has kind of a solo next to them. She feels Grizabella's presence. Than the cats lay down. Old Deutoronomy who sits left wants to invite Griz on stage, but Munkustrap is again not happy and so she leaves again, scared away and the ball continuous without her.

The second half of the ball is very energetic and so much fun. There are lot of acrobatics, even Bomba, Jelly and Jenny do some, as far as I remember. Like everybody has to do some. And Gus also does a lot of dancing during the ball which I'm not used to. Absolute great choreo and great energy.

At the end Grizabella returns on stage and the cats hiss at her. Interesting enough Admetus is really, really aggressiv towards her which could be the directors take on the riveraly which Macavity has to the other Jellicle Choice contenders in the 2019 movie. Admetus is really very hissy and aggressiv, he nearly attacks Grizabella but Munkustrap steps between them and hinders him. Admetus is still hissing but leaving the stage (Simone Nocerino played this part so well, he was legit scary, more scary than as Macavity). Cassandra hinders Victoria to touch her. Munkustrap hinders Jemima. Jemima is the last one to leave, Grizabella reaches out to her, but she goes away. Only Old Deut stay back on the side of the stage.

This scene was very interesting. It was like: Munkustrap doesn't want the cats to touch her and to be close to her but he also doesn't want her to get hurt by them so he protects her from Admetus.

Memory Part I

Grizabella is alone on the stage, Old Deut is still near by. She starts her sad dance and sings her song. Malika Ayane is an absolutly amazing singer, voice vice one of the best Grizabellas I've seen live. Old Deuteronomy wants to touch her, to welcome her back. At the end of her song it starts to rain. Curtain.

Intermission

Towards the end of the intermission the courtain gets lifted and people are alowed to take a picture with Old Deut. More and more Cats enter the stage and play with a tennis ball.

Moments of Happyness

I really loved Old Deuts voice, loved that it was very Opera. Jemima is great too, beautiful voice. Her design reminds me a little mit of the E-Girl trend. She is very cute. Also at the end Jellylorum hugs her before she starts singing about Gus.

Gus the Theatre Cat

Interesting choices were made again: A red curtain appears on the left side of the stage. There is also a door on the right side. For the first part of the song Gus ist not on stage. While Jellylorum is singing his shadows are projected on the curtain and the door. Only when he starts singing he steps on stage, but he doesn't sit down. One time he nearly falls but Rumpleteazer catches him. Also Munogjerrie does a salto when he calls on him (maybe it was the kittens these day part).

They also updated the lyrics. He sang something about Tiktok, Facebook and Likes and one day a woman in the audience was shouting "bravo" to that.

This Gus doesn't seem as frail and old as other Guses. He hardly even hesitates to start the Rumpus Cat number.

Rumpus Cat

The number is mostly sung by Gus and Munkustrap. It's musically quite similar to how the international tour does it, but I think different dog breeds are mentioned. What I also really liked was that the dogs are not seperated by gender. Both genders played both dog breeds. Bomba and Demeter do the wau wau part which usually goes to Rump and Mungo. Bomba, Demeter and Tugger were great dogs. I loved the choreo where all three of them were stomping and they were all so great. Etcetera was also a dog but she was a little bit more scared.

Gus comes out in a costume that reminds more of a pirate which was a fun wink at older productions. He also had a sword and he killed some of the dogs, I think Bomba died first. She did a great job at dying.

They do not play a reprise of Gus the theatre Cat. Gus just leaves and the Skimble number starts.

Skimbleshanks

At the beginning of the number the cats act in the front of the stage. Cassandra is crying (I do not know why) and Misto gives her a handkerchief so she can try her tears. It was quite funny and Gaia Soprano is an amazing Cass all in all, very beautiful, very good dancer, very dramatic, very expressive and also fun. Less proud than your usual Cass I would say.

Skimble appears wearing his uniform und sings his part. The LED wall shows a map of Italy and the route of the train. It goes through Italy, I think south. They also use long glowsticks to build a train. It seemded modernized.

Similar to the 2019 movie the stage production uses tap dancing (even the same step and later a second different step) and the other Cats sit on the ground and drum. It really sounds like a train and at the end Mistoffelees makes a really realistic choo choo noice.

The tap dancing was very simple but very effective and the audience loved the number.

Macavity

At the end of the number Macavity appears again. There is also a Macavity decoy to show his ability to teleport. The Cats attack him with Mungojerrie leading the way. But Macavity drives them away. He doesn't kidnap Old Deuteronomy yet. Old Deut stays on stage while Demeter begins the song. Macavity is also on stage, moves around in the background and listens to Demeter and Bombalurina, who mostly ignore him.

I really liked the arragement and the choreography of the number. Slightly sexy but also acrobatic and I really did love Bomba and Demeter so much. They are both great actors and dancers, active and central in every single number. Demeters make up is so fucking beautiful and it really just shows that you can do so much more than slap red lipstick on a female character to make her attractive.

There was more jumping at the end of the number. The backgournd dancers later are: Cass, Tanto, Electra, Etcetera Syllabub AND Jellylorum. They enter the stage from different sides and join the dance one after another. Loved the number so so much!

Macavity fight!

The cats come back and attack Macavity. Jenny is the first one to attack. Tugger tries to protect Old Deut but Macavity seems to be winning, so Rumpleteazer attacks Macavity from behind and saves Tugger. Mungojerrie attacks him again too but has to flee. At the end Macavity wins and disapears with Old Deut. He has a very evil laughter.

The fight has also some dance elements. At one time Macavity lifts Victoria, at another time he is lifted by two toms to attack Munkustrap. But all in all it is less brutal than in other productions I've seen.

Also, this production doesn't play the romance between Munk and Deme (or between Victoria and Admetus), as far as I saw, they are just cats, they are just vibing.

Mr. Mistoffelees

The cats do not seem very traumatized but they still want to get Old Deut back. Tugger starts the Mistoffelees song and Misto enters the stage quite at the beginning. He dances a lot and does A LOT of Magic tricks. Similar to Budapest this production descided to do more tricks and less dancing. Cassandra is his magical assistant and even does one trick by herself (cards out of the top hat). One time she is also in a floating box.

Pierpaolo Scida is a very happy, very fun Mistoffelees. He also does a good amount of dancing during the number. I think he was more happy and confident than the 2019 Mistoffelees but the production still took one idea from the movie here. Mistoffelees tries to bring Old Deut back two times, but fails two times. Macavity is seen up on the right side, laughing and holding Old Deut hostage. It seemed a little bit like a magical fight. Whose magic is stronger? Mistoffelees or Macavitys?

After failing two times Mistoffelees is very sad and he crouches on the right side of the stage, hiding his face. Tugger sits next to him, starts to sing again to encourage him to try one last time. He takes his hands and both rise up. Misto tries again and this time old Deut is back.

The Cats celebrate with a very fun choreo, Misto does some turns like in the Lynne choreo and a magic trick (turning a handkachief into a staff) and the number ends.

Memory

Grizabella is back and sings her song. I really liked both Grizabellas. This Grizabella is very strong. She didn't fall down, still Jemima sang her part.

Old Deuteronomy does announce her as Jellicle Choice, Victoria is the first one to touch her, Munkustrap second (so he doesn't hate her no more). The other Cats greet her and she goes to the heavy side layer.

The Ad-Dressing of Cats

Old Deut sings the number and the shows end. They dance a little bit on stage and go into the auditorium. End of the play.

End Notes

I really liked this production especially the make up, costumes and choreography. And I loved loved loved Demeter, Bombalurina, Jellylorum and Cassandra. Tugger, Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were absolutly great too.

The whole play seems more fun and less sad and dramatic than in replica productions. The fight was not very brutal and nobody got seriously hurt. Less romance, less violence, less sexy, less nearly dying but very entertaining and with a positive vibe to it. Neither Grizabella nor Gus seemed really like their end was near.

These cats just enjoy each others company and they love celerbrating together, which was very clear during the jellicle ball in a part where they kind of twisted with each other.

This production was really worth the trip!

#cats the musical #gatti #text

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putaposyinyourhair · 5 months

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One Brain Cell and a Whole Lot of Mistakes

• lo’ak x spider where i constantly just torture both of them because they’re ✨dumbasses✨

• a/b/o, ye be warned and shit

• seriously au but hey! trudy lives bitches

• also posted on ao3 so if y'all wanna drop any comments, go wild fam

Lo’ak and Spider have always shared one brain cell, have been the best of friends since as far back as they can remember. Unfortunately, this fact remains true even after Lo’ak mysteriously presents— because Lo’ak has won the proverbial jackpot when it comes to his father’s genes and all the human traits that come with that; including that thing humans do where they go through a second puberty and acquire a shiny new second gender for themselves.

And Spider? Well, he’d presented years ago and apparently he and Lo’ak aren’t the only ones missing a few brain cells, because every single adult in their vicinity casually forgets to give either of them a ‘talk’ that goes any deeper than, ‘This is your second gender, here are some things your body’s going to put you through, chin up, kid.’

And so, with one brain cell shared between them and all the naïveté of a human boy completely out of his depth and a Na’vi boy fed up with his fucking lot in life, they fall into the most dramatic love affair ever seen on Eywa.

Chapter 1 - Lo'ak

“Daaaaaaaad!”

Lo’ak is near hyperventilating by the time his parents get to him, accompanied by all of his siblings— which, of course they come too, drawn in by the terror in their brother’s cry— their eyes wide, battling away the sleep still lingering persistently.

“What is it?” his dad demands, sharp gaze flitting about erratically as he crouches by Lo’ak’s side— like he’s trying to pinpoint the source of Lo’ak’s distress. “What’s going on?”

Lo’ak’s got both of his hands firmly over his crotch as he attempts to reign in his unstable breathing. His face feels ridiculously hot, and his cheeks must be completely flushed because Tuk pops out from behind their mom and reaches out to poke at his face inquisitively.

Lo’ak sputters and immediately jerks away from her touch.

In response to his unusual behavior, Tuk flinches back, her little face twisting in a frown as she drops her gaze sadly.

Lo’ak grimaces, his shoulders slumping forward just slightly. He feels like an absolute prick. He’s never pulled away from his siblings’ touch before. But he doesn’t know what the hell is happening to him.

What if he’s… contagious?

“Lo’ak,” his dad calls, voice firm. “What happened, boy?”

The man’s gaze is firmly set on Lo’ak now but still Lo’ak hesitates.

He doesn’t want to say it in front of his mother. He definitely doesn’t want to say it in front of his sisters. Kiri will hold it over his head for years, she’ll never let him forget it.

And Neteyam’s probably going to come up with a never-ending supply of stupid jokes to crack at Lo’ak’s expense. Which will inevitably just get them both grounded because at some point Lo’ak will get fed up and he’ll snap and they’ll eventually come to blows.

“Lo’ak,” his mom trills softly, one hand placed on Tuk’s head to comfort her. “Tell us.”

Lo’ak digs his two front teeth into his bottom lip and looks away for a moment, his tail swishing behind him almost violently. He does his best to take a deep breath and then screws his eyes shut.

“Something’swrongwithmydick.”

He admits it quietly but swiftly and it comes out nigh-on unintelligible. And when he cracks one eye open to take a peek at his family’s reactions, he’s met with confused frowns all around.

Neteyam has one brow arched down at Lo’ak from his place over their dad’s crouched form— his expression clearly conveying that he thinks his brother’s finally lost it. Kiri meets Lo’ak’s gaze impassively then rolls her eyes with an exasperated huff.

“Again,” their mom commands, like she’s talking to an infant and not someone who’s practically mature. “But slower.”

Lo’ak opens his other eye and glances down at where his hands are pressing down against the front of his loincloth, wincing when his tail jerks sharply and it accidentally rocks him forward, sending an acute pulse of pain up his spine.

He groans softly, then grunts to try and clear his throat— his ears twitching in embarrassment.

“There is something wrong with my dick,” he gets out through gritted teeth.

He looks up— because even though he desperately doesn’t want to see their reactions, he also really does because he needs help— but his gaze is immediately drawn to the slow, mischievous shit-eating grin that’s stretching at his brother’s lips. Lo’ak only has enough time to narrow his eyes before the asshole is speaking up.

“It’s tiny, isn’t it?”

Kiri has to physically reach up and stifle her laughter behind her hands as fast as she possibly can.

Lo’ak doesn’t bother to hold in the brief hiss their antics elicits from him.

And their mom doesn’t seem to find it as funny as they do either because she turns and Kiri abruptly schools her face into an impassive expression, dropping her hands to her hips— and she’s scarily good at doing that— but Neteyam is an idiot and so he completely deserves the sharp slap their mom delivers to the back of his big-ass head. Not that it does much because the asshole just continues chuckling, even as he rubs at the sore spot afterwards.

Tuk is too young to really understand what they’re teasing Lo’ak about and so she’s kind of just watching everyone with an openly curious look on her face.

Their dad just seems kind of disgruntled. And maybe a bit relieved. Like he’d expected something much worse. Like he’d expected to find actual danger inside Lo’ak’s snonivi. Like he’d thought he might have to kill something or someone tonight.

Lo’ak scowls.

He can’t really help but feel slightly offended that something being seriously wrong with his genitals is apparently not serious enough to warrant any immediate distress from his parents.

“There’s like… a— a round thing!” Lo’ak tries to explain, bobbing his head in an attempt to gesture down at his groin. “At the base. And it— it fucking hurts.”

His mom turns back to him with a sharp dismissive, “Tsk,” a human habit she’d definitely picked up from his dad over the years.

“Language, Lo’ak,” she reminds him pointedly. Which is ridiculous because Lo’ak swears all the time— it’s another one of those inherently human habits that he and Neteyam picked up from their dad.

Thankfully, it seems that Lo’ak’s words have achieved what he’d wanted— no, needed.

His dad’s face is blanching, his eyes wide, and it looks like there’s a million thoughts running through the man’s head at light speed.

Well, finally, some concern at last.

The thing at the base of Lo’ak’s dick throbs again— painfully— and he whines softly, doing his best to muffle the sound between clenched teeth as he wraps his tail around his own waist in a useless attempt to self-soothe.

His mother’s face clouds over with something that’s halfway between worry and perplexity and then, she glances down at her mate’s face and her eyes widen.

“Ma Jake,” she inquires softly, moving to crouch beside him. “What is wrong?”

Dad doesn’t say anything. He’s just… frozen. His eyes still moving rapidly like he’s one of those computers that the humans have up in the lab at High Camp, processing data faster than any organic creature ever could.

And Mom does not like his silence.

“Jake Sully,” she calls sharply, reaching up to mercilessly tug at one of his ears. “What is happening to our son?”

His dad winces, gasping out a soft curse. Then he kind of just falls over, let’s himself tip backwards until he’s sitting sprawled on the ground— his back pressed firmly to Neteyam’s legs.

“He’s presenting,” his dad reveals, the pitch of his voice completely monotonous— like he’s in shock. “I— I don’t… I didn’t think—”

The man cuts off his own rambling and abruptly turns to his mate, reaching out in a panic to pull her hands into his as he stares up at her with a strangely desperate look on his face. A look that clearly conveys guilt.

Their mom stills.

“Like you?” she inquires, her gaze dropping to the front of his dad’s loincloth for a split-second. And when his dad does nothing but hang his head in despair and nod, she shuffles forward and pulls his face into the soft skin of her belly.

Then she looks over at Lo’ak and Lo’ak unexpectedly jerks back.

Because there’s pity in his mother’s eyes as she looks at him.

Lo’ak feels like he’s been slapped in the face.

The lump at the base of his dick pulses again, sending sharp pain skittering along his legs and up his back again and Lo’ak’s eyes fill with tears.

And not only on account of the pain, but because it coincides with the moment his dad speaks again.

“He’s even more human than we thought.”

#loak x spider #loak sully #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #avatar fandom #avatar cameron #avatar the way of water

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chaotic-super · 11 months

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For Her Sake - Chapter 13

Read For Her Sake on AO3 here!

The past two weeks have been impossibly crazy.

Between Cat being a bitch and purposefully setting her up with impossible tasks that are just a pain in the ass to try and fulfil and the weather being non-stop rain, Kara has never been so glad to reach the weekend, especially knowing that as soon as she leaves the office in less than an hour, she’s most likely never going to have to walk back in here ever again.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Winn waving her over. She smiles and gets up, grabbing a little something off her desk on her way over and hiding it in her palm.

“Hey.” She stops beside his desk.

“Hey, how are you doing? How does it feel to be nearing the end?” Winn leans back in his chair, spinning it around so he’s facing her better. “You’re going to be free in right around…” he flips his wrist dramatically to check his watch, “fifty-one minutes.”

Kara shrugs. “I have no idea how I feel. It’s kind of a relief but it’s also kind of, I don’t know…sad? I’m going to miss this place, or at least miss what it used to be. I’m glad to see the back of the never-ending to-do list I’ve been working off the last couple of weeks though. I’m really excited to start over at Reign though, I think a fresh start is exactly what I’ve been needing and with Alex working at L-Corp it’s setting us up to be just fine. We’re finally getting somewhere, Winn and it feels just so refreshing.”

Winn grins at her. “You look happy.”

“I am.”

“I’m not happy.” Winn follows up on his previous statement.

Kara’s happy demeanour drops in an instant. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not happy that you’ve been using the daycare for Alex’s job to take care of Lori where I can still pick her up. You know I love that kid.”

Kara shakes her head. “Winn, that was before I found out you were taking a pay cut to finish early to go and get her. It’s free for the daycare and you can still come over whenever you want and take her out on a weekend of anything where you’re not losing money just to help us out.”

“Ok, it was like, barely any money difference and it’s not the same. Even if it’s not every day, give me like…two days a week or something? Come on…it’s just two days.” He can see Kara breaking so he leans closer, pouting obnoxiously. “Please.”

Kara leans back, giggling slightly and giving in. “Ok, ok. Two days a week. Whichever two suit you best.”

“Good.” He drops the pout, chuckling along with her and beaming. “I miss the little munchkin.”

“You only saw her like, three days ago.”

“My point still stands.”

Kara presses her fingers into the thing in her hand. “I’ve got a little something for you.”

“If it’s not the Pikachu figurine from your desk, I don’t want it.”

Kara smiles and puts that very item on his desk, watching closely as his eyes light up. “You’re in luck. I won’t have a desk at Reign so this is for you.”

Winn snatches it up the second Kara’s hand has retracted, lifting the little figurine up and closer to his face so he can look at it closely. “Really? You’re serious? You’re giving me your desk Pikachu?”

“I am.” Kara folds her arms feeling kind of cool because she’s giving Winn something he’s been asking for since she got the little thing a couple of years back.

“You’re really giving me the Pikachu that you found in the parking lot at Comic-Con?”

“I am. Please cherish it, it took a lot of energy for me to bend down to pick it up.” Kara laughs taking it from him and positioning it between a few of his other collectables. “It’s also to help keep you company since we all know you’ll be super lonely here without me, I am like, the best person ever.”

Winn looks at the Pikachu fondly before looking up at Kara with the same look in his eyes. “I know that’s a joke but I’m really going to miss seeing you pretty much every day. I mean, I’ll still come visit you and I’m really happy you’re happy but I am going to miss you.”

“I’m really going to miss you too. You’re what made working here so fun.” Kara grabs his arm, pulling him up so he’s standing and she can give him a proper hug. “Thanks for making my time here so good, it wouldn’t have been half as amazing as it was if you weren’t here.”

She goes to pull back but Winn’s strong arms stop her, keeping her in the hug and she realizes why just moments later when she feels something wet hit her shoulder. Rather than call attention to it, she just holds him tightly, her arms strong against his back as she lets him take his time.

Kara had no idea that he cared about her enough to cry about her leaving. He’s her best friend and they are still going to see each other but he’s taking this hard, obviously not putting up any resistance for her sake so she doesn’t second guess a decision that is good for her and Lori.

He pulls back after a long sniff, frantically wiping at his eyes. “Sorry, it just got real.”

Kara runs her hands up and down his upper arms, trying her best to soothe him. “Don’t be sorry, Winn. Hey, why don’t you come back to our place tonight? We’ve managed to put some money aside for takeout and we’re ordering pizza so if you want to come and hang out with the coolest people on Earth, you’re welcome to.”

“Ok.” Winn nods, taking no convincing. “I want to play Mario Kart though.”

“Whatever you want,” Kara says. “Now get back to work, we still have like, forty-five minutes left before we’re free and while it doesn’t matter for me, you can still get fired.”

Winn grumbles. “Uh, I hate that. Is Reign hiring? I am not above following you.”

“Unfortunately not and we both know you couldn’t do a job that doesn’t involve computers, you’re very smart but I would not trust you to carry plates across a room without tripping.” Kara backs away, a big grin on her face. “Now, hop to it, Winslow. Work, now.”

Winn twizzles his chair back around, mumbling what sound like some very inappropriate words under his breath.

Kara heads back to her desk, plopping down in her chair with a thump. It’s half broken, about to give way any day now but she put in a maintenance request weeks ago and it never got replaced, she doesn’t have to worry about it anymore.

With just a little bit of time left, she decides to pack up the few things she still has on her desk. Most of it has been going home with her each night over the past couple of weeks but there are a few things still to come home with her so she grabbed an empty box on her way back from lunch and has had it stored just behind her chair since for this exact moment.

Kara places it down on the floor at her side and slowly begins piling things into it starting with the little plant she has had on her desk which she still hasn’t figured out if it’s fake or real but she has been watering for the past year with the dregs of her coffee at least twice a week. It is placed in the corner of the box, leaving lots of space for the few books she’s got in the bottom drawer of her desk, the ones she has sneakily been reading whenever there’s a free few minutes at work and Cat is out in a meeting. She’s never taken them home because the thought of the weight of them hanging off her shoulder was too awful to think about but now, she’s got no other choice.

There are several knickknacks and random objects that she’s not even sure when they migrated from her place to the office but she’s taking them home anyway. Just to be petty, she ends up taking her good pair of scissors and her stapler too because she bought them a while ago when it was taking too long for her requests to go through, that was back before the accident when she had the money to do things like that.

There’s just one thing left to go, a picture of her, Alex and Lori. It’s just a small one, mostly because she was always too afraid to show off her personal life too much but looking at that picture and seeing what she was working for has always given her the strength to get through the days that were otherwise unbearable. She’s spent a lot of time looking at it since she put her resignation in.

As soon as her desk is clear of everything except for her laptop and CatCo schedules and such, the things she can’t take home because it’s CatCo property, she closes the lid of the box and pushes it to one side. There’s not a lot she can do now, she worked through lunch to make sure all of Cat’s scheduling is done for the next week just so it can’t be said that she didn’t treat her fairly in her leave so there’s literally nothing left for her to do.

A glance over at Winn and his screen shows her that he is fully focused on his work so she can’t just annoy him so she’s got to look busy. She grabs one of her notebooks that she put in her box, she found several because she used to have a problem with buying notebooks she will never write in, and flips it open to a random blank page and then starts scribbling random lines, zigzagging along the page just to pass the time.

With only fifteen minutes left, she does that for a solid five before giving up and tossing it into the box again and then lifting it onto her desk. She then wanders around the bullpen and starts saying her goodbyes.

Most of the people there have been lovely to her and she knows a lot of them well through short conversations in the break room and through early morning elevator chitchat. They are all surprised that she’s leaving since she never told anyone and well, in most cases where someone is an assistant at a big company like this one, it’s so they can progress there and climb rank so it’s odd that she’s leaving whilst still only on the bottom rung.

She makes her rounds, getting a lot of well wishes and hugs along the way and then heads back to her desk where Winn is waiting, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Are you ready?”

“Can you wait a couple of minutes? There’s one more person I need to say goodbye to.”

“Sure,” Winn says but tilts his head at her, confused and unsure who else she could need to speak to.

His eyebrows practically shoot up into his hairline when she walks past him and knocks on the glass door of Ms Grant’s office.

“Ms Grant?”

“Yes?” Cat looks up from her computer looking bored.

“I’m leaving now so I wanted to come and say goodbye.” Kara walks through the office, stopping just short of her desk. “I want to leave on good terms with you, I have a lot of good memories here and this place still means a lot to me so I was hoping we could just put the past behind us and I can just go without any regrets.”

Cat stares at her suspiciously as Kara sticks her hand out towards her. “Why?”

“Because before everything happened, I thought we were friends and I’d like to leave that way, even if we never end up seeing each other again. Besides, it’s good for your reputation if everyone out there sees me leaving on a good note.” She nods her head aimlessly towards the bullpen where most people are packing up their things to go home.

With a touch of reluctance, Cat reaches over and shakes her hand, her grip a lot stronger than Kara imagined someone of her stature would be capable of. “Kara, I may not agree with your choices, especially your choice to leave but I do admire your drive to take care of your family, I can respect that. I wish you well.”

“You too, Ms Grant. I did your schedules for next week to give whoever you’re replacing me with a chance to figure their crap out. Call it a parting gift. Try not to make them cry.” Kara smiles warmly at her one last time before leaving, aware of Cat’s piecing gaze pinned on her back as she makes her way out for the last time.

Winn is holding her box, having been not-so-sneakily watching their interaction from his spot leaning against her desk. “You ok?”

“I am,” Kara answers and goes to take her box but Winn holds it out of her reach.

“Not a chance, now let’s go, I’m starving.”

“Me too.” Kara mumbles, somehow, not quite as sad as she thought she would be to see the back of this building that has been a major part of her life for years.

Kara and Winn get back to the apartment before Alex does because she’s picking Lori up too so for the first time in a while, she gets the place to herself, well almost to herself but Winn doesn’t count.

“Why don’t you set up Mario Kart while I go and run and have a quick shower before Alex and Lori get back?” Kara says, her question really a demand.

“You got it, boss,” Winn answers, taking one of Alex’s beers that Kara offers to him on her way through the bedroom to the bathroom.

She’s purposefully quick because she doesn’t want to make Winn wait and she doesn’t know exactly what time Alex will get back because usually, she’s home long after Alex gets back because she takes public transportation but Winn drove here today so what is a trip that usually takes over an hour was little more than fifteen to twenty minutes.

Hopping out of the shower, she throws on some comfy pants and a blue cotton tee, dressing mostly for comfort and dries her hair, not bothering with make-up.

Winn is on the couch scrolling through his phone when Kara wanders back out into the living room. “Hey, it’s all set to go, want to start now or are we waiting until Alex and Lori get here?”

“We should probably wait until they get here, I love that little girl but man does she get competitive and I don’t want to hear her spend the night complaining that we got a head start.” Kara sinks into the couch beside Winn, her head instantly leaning back into the cushions and her eyes half-closing.

“Your closed eyes tell me you’d like to sit in silence while we wait for them.”

“That’s one hundred percent correct.” Kara mumbles.

“You’re a terrible host but ok.” Winn snickers, his eyes falling back to his phone right away. He doesn’t mind just sitting here with Kara, it won’t be the first time they have gone to hang out and just ended up sitting in the same room doing two separate tasks in complete silence.

Within a couple of minutes, the past two weeks and the relief of finally leaving that place in the past where it belongs has Kara snoring, her head thrown all the way back and Winn silently laughing at her, his shoulder shaking and his fist clenched between his teeth so he doesn’t wake her. His laughter dies down after a couple of minutes but every once in a while he does look up from his phone to smile at her.

She’s still snoring when Alex unlocks the front door and sighs her way through it, Lori skipping in right in front of her. Lori spots her mom and Winn and runs over to them, her eyes bright and joyful. She clambers into Kara’s lap, effectively waking her up and wrapping her little arms around her. “Mommy! You’re home before us!”

“I am, I missed you today, baby.” Kara pulls her close for a cuddle. “Have you had a good day?”

“Uh huh, the best, we got to play in the sand pit and then Aunty Alex invited Lena to come for dinner and she said yes!”

Kara’s eyes widen and she looks over to see Alex standing in the kitchen with none other than Lena Luthor. “Oh yes, I see that. Why don’t you and Uncle Winn catch up so I can go and say hi?”

Winn wants to argue, he wants to meet Lena, she’s basically his idol, but he settles for an excitable little girl instead who is already wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Lena, hi!” Kara greets Lena, heading into the kitchen. “I’m so glad you could make it, especially after I had to cancel on you for dinner before. I’m sorry about that, I was really looking forward to it too.”

Alex throws her hands up. Kara has yet to greet her but is already all over Lena. She shouldn’t have invited her because now she’s stuck watching them moon after each other, neither of them ballsy enough to notice the way the other has a very obvious crush on them.

Lena rests her hand on Kara’s forearm. “Don’t worry about it. It sounds like you’ve had a hell of a time finishing up your time at CatCo. How does it feel to not work there anymore?”

Kara lets out a heavy puff of air. “I don’t even know. It’s strange, I think I’ll miss it but I’m also super excited to start working with Sam. I’m sure you’ve heard all about the time I saw her for lunch a couple of weeks ago, she was lovely. I managed to part ways with Ms Grant in a nice way really, we shook hands and agreed to leave the past in the past so I guess I can’t wish for more.”

“Sam did tell me about that, I should probably warn you that while she’s nice, she’s a blabbermouth to the people she’s closest to, so anything you tell her, she’s probably going to tell me and our other friend, Jack, if you don’t specifically tell her to keep it to herself.”

“Noted.” Kara nods. “Now, shall we order? I’m starving.”

“I’m so down for that.” Alex interrupts them with a small stack of takeout menus, “Winn, Lori, want to come and help pick where we eat?”

Winn grabs Lori, swinging her around as he stands up, making her squeal as he does so and for a second, Kara’s heart is in her mouth because while she trusts Winn, she’s terrified of Lori potentially getting hurt. Her hand flies to her chest, covering her rapidly beating heart. “Careful.” She warns when he settles beside her with Lori propped on his hip.

He sends her a sheepish look before focusing on the menus. “I know we agreed on pizza but I’m thinking that maybe we should order Chinese too, it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you inhale an ungodly amount of potstickers in one sitting.”

Kara clears her throat awkwardly in a mixture of embarrassment because he just really said that in front of Lena and because she feels bad because they have guests over and they can’t afford to get both pizza and Chinese food. “I don’t know, Winn. Maybe we should just stick to the pizza.”

“How about a deal then, you get the pizza you seem to so desperately want and I’ll get the Chinese food, deal?” Winn argues and then sticks out his hand like it’s a done deal.

“Ooh, How about I order Big Belly Burger too?” Lena asks, spotting a menu for there. “I haven’t had one of their burgers in way too long and it’s kind of my guilty pleasure. Come on, let’s make a feast out of it. I’ll order those, Winn gets the potstickers and you guys get the pizza, fair and square.”

Kara knows what they are playing at. Alex does too, to be fair, but she doesn’t really care. Kara feels bad that they have invited Winn and Lena over yet they are going to be paying for a good chunk of the food, it doesn’t feel right but she can’t do much about it, they know what they are doing and this is their way of doing it as delicately as they can without outright saying that they are helping to pay because they know that they are broke.

Well, not broke, not anymore. Alex has been getting paycheques now, weekly ones that help them get on top of everything, but they have mostly just been using it to get up to date on everything so they have been paying off their debts and starting to backpay the rent they missed. As soon as that is done, a couple of months more they think, and then they can think about moving out and getting a better place, one where they all have their own beds at the very least. For that to happen though, they are following a very strict budget and even splurging tonight is a treat they shouldn’t really be splurging on but Alex insisted on celebrating Kara’s new job.

“Fine, fine, but just you guys wait until we manage to move into a new place, we’re going to buy so much food that you will have to roll out of the door when you want to leave.” Alex accepts their offer when it becomes clear that Kara’s not about to.

“Good.” Lena grins, already slipping her phone out of her pocket and starting to order her portion of the food, Winn and Alex doing the same too while Kara plucks Lori off of Winn’s side and pulls her close into another cuddle, only getting slightly offended when she starts wriggling and trying to get to Lena, her little arms reaching out towards her.

Lena, despite being guilted into sitting beside her on the way here, reaches out and lets Lori climb her way over from Kara’s arms into hers, propping Lori’s butt onto the edge of the counter so she can still finish placing the order of a bunch of cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings and milkshakes. They are all eating well tonight.

“Lena, Lena, Uncle Winn set up Mario Kart!” Lori grabs at Lena’s shirt, bunching it in her tiny fists as she excitedly speaks.

“Really? Can you show me?” Lena asks, smiling at how adorable Lori is and putting her down, her heart melting when Lori grabs her hand to take her to the couch.

Kara follows them with her eyes first, her blue orbs soft with the joy that comes with Lori having so many people around that love and care for her. There’s not a person on the planet that she couldn’t force to love her. With that thought in mind, she follows them, sitting on the other side of Lori so she’s sandwiched between her and Lena.

Winn and Alex come and perch on the floor on cushions, their backs to the couch and their focus on the screen, this is about to get competitive.

Lena has made it to the kitchen having managed to finally extract the clingy little koala of a girl off her. She’s now fully leaning into Winn’s side, cheering him on in his game against Alex, who seems to be outraged that her niece is cheering against her.

She’s super thirsty and since the food and milkshakes haven’t arrived yet, she’s just planning on grabbing water or something out of the refrigerator but when she opens it, she’s hit with a wave of desire she thought she had banished to the past.

Alex’s beers sit on the shelf enticing her. She hasn’t had a drink in weeks, something she’s really proud of, but the longing is still there, especially when she gets home at night to an empty apartment and there’s nobody around to disappoint but herself. This is a new low though, she’s in Kara’s apartment, gagging for a cheap beer just because she could get a taste of what she’s been depriving herself of.

Without really thinking, her hand reaches out, softly encasing one of the beers but before she can pick it up, Lori appears beside her, tugging on her pants. “Lena, Lena, juice please.”

It’s enough to snap her out of it and make her hat herself a little because of how close she was to taking a beer. With Lori at her side though, she knows she can’t do that, she can’t get away with doing that, so she pours out some juice for Lori and then some for herself. She sends Lori off back to the others but takes a breather, leaning back against the counter and purposefully not looking towards the refrigerator because of the shame.

She stares down into her glass, taking small sips every now and again whilst ignoring the tiny voice in her head telling her that it would be better if it had alcohol in it.

Lena purposefully chases away that voice though. She was an alcoholic, maybe not as bad as other people are, not by a long shot, but she was dependent on her drinks at the end of the night to get her through to the next morning and her yearning for drinks is her body telling her that something is missing, a part of her routine that she became addicted to so she could soothe herself enough to sleep through the night. She doesn’t need that now, she can find meaning in her life without it, she has reasons to get up the next day that aren’t found at the bottom of a glass.

She’s so caught up in her own mind that she barely notices Kara sliding next to her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Are you ok?” Kara questions, her brow knitted in worry. “You had…a moment.”

Lena nods slowly, even more ashamed now she knows that Kara saw her, and what she almost did. “I did.”

“It’s normal to have moments of temptation, Lena, and for the record, I’m so proud of how long you’ve gone. I think it’s really brave, what you’ve been doing.” Kara rests her hand on Lena’s forearm tenderly, her lips curved into a small smile.

“Maybe but it wasn’t appropriate of me to have almost taken one of those beers. I was close.”

“But you didn’t. You came through.” Kara’s voice is soft and gentle in a way that makes Lena want to cry big fat tears until she’s got no more to cry. “Besides, if I had known you were coming I would have made sure there was no alcohol in the apartment before you got here so you wouldn’t be put in the position where you have to make hard choices.”

Lena ducks her head. “You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I don’t but I want to. You’ve been so good to us and let’s be real, Lori loves you more than me, if there’s anything I can do for you, you know I’m only a call away.”

“There is something you can do for me.” Lena tries carefully.

Kara’s head whips up. “Anything.”

Lena almost laughs at how eager Kara sounds and takes a tiny bit of joy in bursting her bubble. “Stop acting like you owe me something, you don’t. The truth is, helping you guys out, and spending time with you, it’s benefitted me a lot more than it has you. I only have two friends in the city, Sam and Jack, and we don’t get to see each other nearly as often as we’d like because of how busy we are, it makes planning times to get together awful and difficult. You’ve opened your home to me many times now when I had no one else to spend time with, nobody willing, it means a lot to me.”

Kara scrunches her face thoughtfully and Lena can’t help but think that she looks kind of cute. She takes several long moments to come up with something to say and each passing second makes Lena’s nerves grow. “Lena, I didn’t know that hanging out with us means that much to you. I kind of thought we were annoying you by asking you over all the time and that you’ve just been humouring us.”

“Not at all.” Lena shakes her head. “I love it actually, as sad as that sounds. I haven’t had friends that I get to see this often since I was in college and I know that sounds clingy and weird but just getting to see you pretty much every week helps me a lot and if it weren’t for you, I don’t think I could’ve stopped drinking the way I did. I don’t think I would’ve had the balls to. I mean it sucked, especially at the beginning. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I stopped, but I have to give you credit for that choice.”

“The only person that deserves credit for that is you, Lena.” Kara bumps her shoulder with Lena’s. “And just for the record, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop thanking you or feeling indebted to you because you saved our asses but I’ll try if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It does,” Lena confirms. “I think you would have managed to save your own butts anyway.”

“Not from that much debt we wouldn’t have. You gave my daughter a chance at a life she wouldn’t have had if we hadn’t met. I do regret what I did but I can’t find it in me to regret being at your building that day.”

“Lena takes a long sip of her juice. “I don’t regret hiding you from the guards.”

Kara and Lena share a look, one of mutual amusement, before falling into a fit of giggles. They get a few strange looks from both Winn and Alex but ignore them, their giggles too much for them to contain.

Once they manage to reign in their laughter, Lena looks over at the couch where Alex and Winn are sitting with Lori, her face thoughtful as her gaze settles on Winn. She nudges Kara with her elbow. “So, Winn seems nice. Are the two of you—”

“No, we’re just friends,” Kara answers, not needing to hear the end of the question to guess what she was thinking. “He’s been my best friend ever since I started at CatCo. He bumped into me in the elevator when I was going for my job interview and we’ve sort of just stuck together ever since. I don’t know what I’d do without him, he even changed his shift pattern at work to be able to look after Lori when we needed him to and he was always available to pick her up from school, all without asking anything in return. He’s been incredible and he’s the best uncle Lori could ever have.”

Lena feels a rush of admiration for the guy. She had no idea that he was doing all of that and shifted his life around to make it easier for Kara and Alex to juggle everything they had on their plates. “I didn’t know that.”

Kara shrugs. “He’s a big softie. He loves Lori and would do anything for her, just like the rest of us. As much as I love him though, there’s never been anything romantic between us. I mean, he did try to kiss me once and asked me out but he was very respectful when I turned him down and just went back to being my best friend, with no hard feelings or weirdness. He’s one of a kind. Why are you asking about him anyway? Are you interested in him?”

Lena shakes her head quicker than she ever has before. “Oh, no, no, no, nothing like that. I just thought you two were close and maybe you were together. I prefer the company of ladies myself, as adorable as your hobbit friend is.”

Kara chuckles. “He has been known to be called that every once in a while.” She ignores Lena’s other statement, unsure what to make of how it makes her somehow happy and trying to will away the thunderous beating of her heart.

Lena clears her throat. “I have another request.”

“Shoot.” Kara’s surprised to hear it but she’s more than open to it.

“You guys had to cancel on coming over for dinner on me twice now and while I get it, I still want you to come over so if you could make it tomorrow or Sunday, I would appreciate it.”

Kara’s face splits into a grin. “Well, it would be rude of me to turn that request down, wouldn’t it?”

“It would, so when are you free?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Good, call it six?”

“Six it is.” Kara agrees and then jumps when there’s a loud knock at the door. “That’ll be the food.”

Alex has to grab Lori to stop her from charging for the door. She’s Kara’s daughter through and through so she loves her food just as much as her mom does and would happily tackle the delivery person just to get the first bite of the pizza.

Kara and Lena open the door and accept the food. Two of the three deliveries arrive at once, the pizza and the Big Belly Burger order and just as Lena is swinging the door closed, she spots the delivery person for the Chinese food too, catching the door just before it slams so she could take it from him. “Thank you very much.” She slips him a tip, one much too large for what would be deemed ordinary, especially for the building they are in. He probably thinks he just got paid to keep quiet about something he isn’t even aware he saw.

It all gets piled up on the coffee table and it quickly becomes a free for all, each of them snagging whatever it is they want right out of the bags, Kara managing to wrangle a full container of potsticker for herself with no remorse, only sharing with Lori because she got given puppy dog eyes that she’s all too aware mirror her own. It almost makes her feel bad that she uses it on other people. People like Winn.

“Winn, please, you have two burgers, please give me one,” Kara begs, pouting for good measure and then cackling evilly as soon as he gives in and hands one over, taking a slice of pizza for himself as a trade-off.

Lena smirks at the exchange around a bite of her burger, trying her best not to moan at the incredible taste of it. Big Belly Burger is her go-to cheat food and it never gets old, if she weren’t worried about her health and the possibility of blocked arteries, she’d eat it every day.

The sound of milkshakes being slurped and lips smacking fills the air and while the noise would usually make Lena want to burst her own eardrums just so she can stop hearing it because it’s so grating, today it’s a symphony she could listen to on repeat. She’s surrounded by people that are genuinely good and actually care about her.

She was shocked earlier when she stopped by to check on the L-Corp building where Alex works. She made a point of only checking on Alex after talking to a lot of other employees first to not blow her cover and nobody seemed to suspect a thing, definitely not thinking anything of it and not suspecting Alex of secretly recording them doing a hell of a lot of illegal stuff and slowly but surely gathering evidence on them.

While she was checking on her, Alex mentioned them celebrating Kara’s last day at CatCo and invited her over and well, Lena is struggling to say no to any chance to see Kara. She might have a weak spot for the blonde.

Lena looks around at the small group, her eyes lingering on two people in particular and sighs happily, her heart jumping for joy knowing she’s going to be able to do this again tomorrow. Winn belches loudly, making Kara laugh loudly and she makes a mental note to invite him over too. He seems like a good guy and a great person to have in her corner.

As she’s looking around, she notices Alex staring at her and when they make eye contact, Alex smiles at her, sending her an awkward thumbs up, one that she returns just as awkwardly.

If anyone had told her that she could find some semblance of happiness on the floor of a run-down apartment in a building that should probably be condemned, she would have laughed in their face, now, she’s just thankful she’s found it and is going to keep a firm grip on it with both hands.

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