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titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys.

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable.

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party.

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that.

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now.

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought.

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!"

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening.

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?"

More cheers, more hollers.

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!"

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day.

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse.

Again—you fucking hate frat boys.

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst.

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer.

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt.

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team.

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!"

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Hell no!"

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike."

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving."

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed.

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?"

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly."

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer.

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little.

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?"

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along.

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though.

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?"

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer."

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers.

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in.

He does, and you let out a breath of relief.

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?"

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?"

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you."

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs.

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue.

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?"

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself."

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon.

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip.

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice.

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach.

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum.

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!"

"Ayyy, waterfall!"

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced.

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch.

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up."

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game.

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards.

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace.

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup.

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you.

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts.

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely.

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you.

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before.

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team?

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you.

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out.

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult.

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes.

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses.

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way.

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls.

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you.

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc.

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover.

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall.

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster.

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him.

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them.

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it.

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms.

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees.

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested.

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins.

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?”

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away.

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him.

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave.

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning.

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you.

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too.

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was.

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips.

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble.

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere.

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out.

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper.

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind.

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind.

“Holy—”

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs.

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass.

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately.

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress.

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan.

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you.

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it.

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to.

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door.

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias.

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again.

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot.

Is still hot.

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong.

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner.

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits.

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face.

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you.

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago.

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head.

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick.

God dammit, why is he so sexy?

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so...

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body.

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted.

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip.

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock.

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion.

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth.

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue.

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you.

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward.

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot.

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit.

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to.

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine.

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts.

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight."

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you.

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed.

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach.

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression.

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support.

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot.

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee."

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out.

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side.

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth.

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like.

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?"

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!"

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together.

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave.

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it.

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove.

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?"

And, there's that point.

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request.

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea.

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times.

But, it needs to stop.

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth.

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer.

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call.

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven.

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it.

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them.

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious.

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before.

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods.

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated.

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself.

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee.

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much.

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully.

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?"

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to.

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point.

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you.

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie.

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal."

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended.

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards.

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day."

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face.

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias."

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps.

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick.

"You have any classes?" You ask.

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place.

"Sucks," is all you can come up with.

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?"

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'.

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?"

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals.

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it.

"God dammit."

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear.

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to."

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan.

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole.

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane.

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name.

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit.

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air.

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess.

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat.

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate.

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

#miche zacharias x reader #mike zacharias x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #mels prima vista #mels frat house

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Text

Newcomers and Nargles

Hey folks! I wrote this for the Noot Fest on the SW discord--hope you enjoy! This is based on a few different asks I received after posting Delivery Boy, a pre-Coops sickfic where the Lovegoods live in the same apartment as Remus. Thanks for taking such an interest in it! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

Sirius checked his watch and knocked on the door a third time, slightly louder. A burst of giggles erupted from inside the apartment and he double-checked the address he had saved in his phone; it matched the worn gold numbers in front of him, but that voice certainly didn’t belong to Remus.

“Loops?” he called cautiously. They were definitely going to be late. “Loops, are you in there?”

Just as he raised his hand to knock once more, the door swung open in a burst of light and movement. “Hi!” Remus said, flushed and out of breath as he balanced a child—a child?—on his hip. “Hey, Sirius, how’s it going? Long time, no see.”

“I saw you this afternoon?” Sirius stared at the little girl in befuddlement while she expertly braided a few loose threads from his sweater.

“Right, yeah, totally.” Remus shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Uh, how can I help you? Did you need something?”

“The team dinner starts soon, and you mentioned you wanted a ride, so…”

Sirius trailed off as Remus closed his eyes with a sigh. The little girl really didn’t look like him, with white-blonde hair and the largest blue eyes Sirius had ever seen. “That was tonight.”

“Yep.”

“I did tell you I wanted a ride, didn’t I?” He groaned. “God, I’m so sorry, her mom called at the last minute and I totally forgot to tell you—”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Sirius said in a hurry as his heart sank. Remus had a child. A whole child that he needed to take care of. A child that looked close to four years old, but it wasn’t like Sirius was entitled to his private life or anything, it was just a bit crushing to know that he had absolutely no chance with the man of his dreams who (apparently) had a…wife? Girlfriend? Ex, whom he was involved with in raising their child? “I’ll just head out, then.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Your daughter comes first.”

Remus paused, then frowned. “What?”

The little girl giggled and turned her pale gaze on Sirius. “Your friend is a silly goose!”

“Definitely,” Remus laughed, hitching her back up on his hip before turning to Sirius. “Uh, Sirius, this is Luna. Her parents live a floor above me and they needed a babysitter for the night. I promise I have no secret children.”

“Oh, good,” he blurted before he could think. He internally cringed and tried to backtrack. “I mean, sorry, I really shouldn’t have assumed.”

Remus looked at him in faint amusement. His eyes glittered with it, and Sirius suddenly wanted to make him look like that every single day. “Are you done panicking?”

“Yes,” he said with a breathless laugh. “Yes, absolutely. It’s nice to meet you, Luna.”

She tightened one hand in Remus’ sweater and leaned dangerously far forward, until her nose almost touched Sirius’. After one slow blink, her face split into a beaming smile. “I like you! You don’t have any nargles at all!”

“…thank you?”

“How about you tell him what nargles are, sunshine,” Remus suggested.

Luna lit up like her namesake. “Oh, they’re fascinating creatures! They live around people’s heads and steal their thoughts, and they’re particular-ily common under mistletoe.” She reached out and patted his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about them, though. Remus has lots.”

“I have lots,” Remus confirmed, casting Sirius a secret smile over Luna’s shoulder that made his heart flutter.

“It’s why he leaves his tea out all the time, and why Mama has to bring the spare key twice a month,” Luna said sagely. “It’s alright. He can’t help it.”

A clock somewhere in the vicinity of Remus’ kitchen chimed six o’clock. His face fell. “I should head to dinner.”

“Yeah, probably.” A part of Sirius’ hopeful little heart believed that the disappointment on Remus’ face was real. “Thanks for stopping by. It was good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” Sirius offered a smile; his whole chest warmed when Remus’ eyes crinkled. “It was lovely to meet you, Luna.”

“Will you come back tomorrow for tea?” she asked. “I like you, and you can help Remus remember his tea before it goes cold. The nargles really are out of control in here.”

He channeled every ounce of self-control to nod solemnly while Remus bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I’ll see what I can do. Have a good night.”

“Drive safe!” Remus called after him as he headed down the hall.

“Wait!” There was a rustle and a light thump, and then Sirius’ right leg was occupied by a mane of blonde hair over Frozen pajamas. Luna turned pleading eyes on him. “If you see a Crumple-Horned Snorkack on your way, you have to promise to tell me!”

“Her dad said they’d go to the aquarium if she found one,” Remus explained, looking mildly embarrassed. “Luna, you need to let go of his leg so he can eat with his friends.”

“My sincerest apologies,” she said with a short bow. “You can eat dinner with us, if you like.”

“Oh, no,” Remus said quickly, before he could answer yes, yes, one hundred percent yes. “Sirius has plans, sunshine. Maybe another time.”

“Another time,” Sirius confirmed. Remus raised his eyebrows in clear surprise. “I’d love to.”

The dimpled smile that earned him carried his spirits throughout the entire team dinner.

#sirius black #remus lupin #luna lovegood #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #babysitting #noot fest #fanfic #precoops

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lovetorn · 3 years

Text

Life Was A Willow [Part 3]

Witch Hunter!Dream x Witch!Fem!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: It's always been hunters vs. witches, right? Not anymore.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings for Part 3: swearing & cute fkn shit

A/N: the final part, i'm weak :,) anyways, enough sap, i hope you guys enjoyed this series as much as i did writing it. i've been working on it for a long ass time and it's finally finished. thank you for everything, the feedback etc. it means so so much !! i hope you guys like the final part even though it’s a little rushed !!!

“Are you sure this is a good way to do it?” Dream asks, nearly running into Y/n as he turns around. “I don’t want to force this idea on people, they won’t like it.”

The witch nods, pushing the flyers into his chest. “We’ve talked about this Dream; we’re not shoving it down their throats. They can choose how to act when they see the posters.”

Dream grabs onto the papers as Y/n backs away, spinning to collect her sunhat and basket. “Let’s go!”

Making their way from the abandoned cottage, which they made their own little space, they walk towards the castle and small surrounding village. Y/n and Dream walk closer than usual, their hands brushing lightly. Birds chirp and fly around them, their singing lifting the spirits of the pair that stroll below them.

“Have you told Sapnap yet?”

Dream rolls his eyes and sighs deeply at the mention of his best friend. “No. I know how he gets with shit like this, so, I guess he’ll have to wait like the rest of the kingdom.” Y/n nods silently in reply and looks up at the blue skies.

“What do you think the moon is thinking right now?” Her question confuses Dream. “In relation to what we’re doing, of course.”

“I’d imagine he’s happy that we’re doing it—we’re making peace, aren’t we?” His answer pleases Y/n as he hoped it would. He hasn’t really thought about it before.

“I agree! I talked with him last night and he told me good things are coming.”

Dream looks at her incredulously. “You talked to the moon?”

“Of course I can. I’m a witch. What else am I supposed to do when he sits there in the sky? Ignore him?” A small smirk plays on her lips. Dream is unsure whether or not she’s messing with him but chooses to believe her, considering everything he’s learnt recently.

They walk further, nearly entering the kingdom village when a grey bunny hops onto the path and Y/n’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “Honey!” Her voice is dripping with it.

Dream furrows his eyebrows when he sees she’s speaking to the rabbit. “What? You can speak to animals now?”

The rabbit’s nose twitches while Y/n approaches it, its eyes glistening in the sunshine. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you tell me any of this? It’s cool.”

Y/n shrugs. “You never ask.”

Dream squints at her, watching as she runs her hand over the animal’s soft ears. He inches closer, catching the rabbit’s eye. Its body freezes at the sight of a human and Y/n coos, it’s okay, he’s my friend. Dream tilts his head and squats next to Y/n, reaching his hand out for her to take. Her fingers are gentle when she holds it, pulling him closer so he can pat the bunny. Its fur is softer than he thought and he melts when it stares at him with its big eyes. Awww, Dream breathes. He feels Y/n’s gaze on him before he blushes.

“Dream—”

Suddenly, the tranquil moment is cut with the kingdom bell and the bunny rushes away, ducking into a line of bushes. The pair jump at the sharp noise, Dream’s hand still sits softly in Y/n’s. He wonders what she wanted to say.

“We should go.” She whispers and Dream nods once, but neither one moves to leave. The sun beats down on his neck and Y/n’s hat sits sideways on her head, probably from when she ran towards the rabbit. Dream blinks and decides to leave it, she looks cute.

“Yeah, uh, let’s go.”

The walk through the gates goes smoothly, nobody suspects a witch amongst them as they walk in the crowd.

“Here.” Y/n points at a wooden lamp-post and Dream agrees. The first poster goes up and while they walk away, they hear mumbling from behind them. Craning his neck back, Dream sees people surrounding the poster already; some nod and some curse, but overall, it looks positive.

He leans down to Y/n’s ear. “I think people are going to show up.”

His breath on her ear and the rasp of his voice causes a shiver to go down Y/n’s spine. She turns her head to look at him and sees how close he is, and smiles. She hopes so.

—

“Citizens of Grogington, the war between magic kind and humans has gone on for far too long! Today, we will be presenting the idea of a truce between the two groups.”

Turns out, the entire kingdom showed up for Y/n and Dream’s proposal. The pair stand on a low podium in front of the castle and stare out into the sea of people. Dream spots Sapnap in the middle of the crowd, with the rest of the hunters, and could almost cry when he sees him smile and throw a thumbs up. Y/n stands next to him, her hand dangerously close to his. Her gaze drops to Wilbur who stands in the front row with Niki, despite the complaints from many people behind him—she nearly laughs at the height difference between him and the humans. But, Y/n feels a twinge of guilt when she watches him smile at her before he encourages her to continue.

The presentation continues and nobody leaves and everybody watches with intent. Y/n throws a glance at Dream while he’s explaining the truce and its outcomes. Her heart leaps into her throat when he notices and continues to turn his head to look at her too.

Although there will be a few people against the idea, the majority of the kingdom is keen on peace and that’s all they need to begin the revolution.

After the proposal, Dream helps Y/n off of the podium, her hand placed gently in his. “Dream!”

At the sound of his name, his real name, Dream smiles. George. There’s a patter of footsteps and then Dream is being jumped on by the Prince. Y/n giggles as she watches Dream wrap his arms around his best friend. “I can’t believe you would do this! You're crazy!”

Dream’s laugh is loud and Y/n wishes she could listen to it all day. Dream puts George’s feet back on the ground before he turns to her. “George, this is Y/n.”

Mischief swirls in the Prince’s eyes as his gaze lands on the witch. “Oh, I know. You’ve told me everything about her: the way her eyes look brighter in the moonlight and how her lips are the same colour as cherries—oomph.”

Dream darts his eyes at George, narrowly, his hand placed over his mouth. “Ha, ha, shut up!”

Y/n feels her cheeks heat up and she covers her smile with her palm. “That’s sweet.”

“That’s what he says about your laugh—stop!” George’s voice is muffled but Y/n still hears him and she gets giddy.

“Dream~” She sings. Dream’s cheeks are on fire and he swears the tips of his ears have burst into flames.

George still remains next to him. “Ok, I won’t embarrass you anymore, big man. You can remove your gross hand off my face now.”

Dream drops his arm and watches George hold his hand out for Y/n to take.

Y/n places her fingers in his and swoons when he brings her knuckles to his lips. Dream gets antsy when he notices Y/n giggle.

“Ok! That’s enough flirting, George.” Dream snatches Y/n’s hand from him and holds it by his side. George giggles from beside him.

“Dream, who doesn’t want to be kissed by the Prince?” She teases, reaching up to squeeze his cheek between her fingers. Dream rolls his eyes and swats her hand off his face.

“Dream!” Another voice interrupts them.

“Hey, Sap!” Although he’s excited to see his other best friend, Dream’s tone is wary. “What did you think of the presentation?”

Sapnap’s expression melts to one of awe. “Man, I loved it. I actually came over to apologise for everything I’ve said about it in the past and you know that I love you, and George, and I know I can be a bit of an idiot when it comes to things like this, but—” George slaps his shoulder.

“Ouch! Okay, okay. I’m sorry for being an entitled dick, and I fully support anything you want to do, Dream. You’re my best friend and I cannot let some outdated opinion be a burden to our friendship.”

Dream swears he feels his chest open up and admit the brightest light you’ve ever seen. His heart almost bursts at the sweet look on Sapnap’s face and tackles him into a hug. “Thank you, man.”

Dream unwraps his arms and sighs loudly. “Sapnap! This is Y/n, Y/n is this Sapnap.” Y/n raises her hand to wave at him, her smile beaming but mischievous.

“I know her already, she tied me to a tree,” He laughs, reaching his hand forward. Y/n giggles, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you properly and not when you’re using your cool witch powers to lift me off the ground.”

Y/n nods, her smile still shining. Dream’s heart rate skips as he looks at her. Her face is like the sun. He could stare at her all day and not care about the risk of going blind.

“Yes, Snapmap. I can call you that now, we’re friends!”

The group collectively laugh and they bid goodbye to George and Sapnap. Y/n turns to Dream. “I’m so happy they’re on board with it.”

“Of course George would be. I’m a little surprised about Sapnap, but, nonetheless, I’m ecstatic.”

Y/n takes his hands and brings them up to her mouth. “I’m so happy, Dream.” She places soft kisses on his fingers and then his knuckles. He watches in awe as she does so.

“Hey, Y/n!” Their moment is cut short as Dream twists to see a tall man and a girl walking towards them.

“Wil! Niki!” She releases Dream’s hands and circles around him to embrace the pair in a hug. “Did you like it?”

Her voice wavers slightly and Dream picks it up. Niki nods excitedly. “Yes! Oh my gods, Y/n!”

Niki’s enthusiasm rubs off on Y/n and she almost forgets Wilbur is standing next to her, he’s so silent. She’s nervous about his response.

Looking up at Wilbur, Y/n sees a soft smile on his cheeks. He pulls her into a hug immediately and Y/n wants to cry. “Thank you.” He whispers.

“You’re welcome.” She murmurs into his ear, and his grip tightens around her. Y/n knows why he’s thanking her but doesn’t elaborate to the others when they pull apart.

“We just wanted to come to say hello before we went back home,” Niki says, raising her hand to wave at Dream.

“Oh! This is Dream,” Y/n motions towards him and Wilbur nods once in greeting. “He did most of this, you should be thanking him. I was simply there to observe.”

And although the other two don’t read deeply into the reply, Dream’s eyes cast down to Y/n at her suggestive comment. The pairs bid goodbye to each other and then Y/n spins back to him again.

“Observing, hm?”

A cheeky grin splits her face into two.

—

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Y/n grasps Dream’s hand and stares up at the large double doors that lead to the Great hall in the castle. Placing his other hand on the door, Dream pushes. The doors swing open and on the other side of the room sits the King. The man looks large in his throne, his dark hair long and crown placed lopsided on his head.

The pair bow before him and then return to their usual heights. The King squints at them and then a smile breaks out. “Dream!”

The blonde lets out a laugh. “Good morning, your Highness.”

“Oh, stop with the titles. I’m James to you, young man.” The King waves his hand around. Dream exhales and steps closer, his hand coming loose from Y/n’s.

“I—We called this meeting to ask for your approval for the possible truce between humans and magical kind,” Dream appeals, holding his breath when he finishes. The King turns his chin up.

“And what has brought this on, Dream?” Dream sighs deeply and takes another step forward.

“I have recently learnt about some of my family history and it has changed my view. My views now pose the same as George’s.” He says apprehensively, fidgeting with his fingers. Y/n stands behind him, chewing on her lip in silence, confused about his recent learning. The King squints again, his glare hard.

“And why do you believe this is a good idea? Hm? What benefits will this bring the kingdom?” He seethes and Y/n screws her eyes shut. She wants to leave, she shouldn’t even be in the castle.

Dream fumbles his words before the witch speaks up. “Your Highness, I believe that peace between your kind and mine will—”

“You brought a witch into my castle?” The King yells incredulously. Dream winces and turns to look at Y/n. But he is surprised when he sees her with a neutral expression.

“Yes, he did. Because he knows that you won’t listen to a human on issues that are only a threat to you. Did you see the citizens of this kingdom when we proposed the idea to them? They were ecstatic, to say the least—”

“Enough. Dream, please enlighten me on the benefits, I’ve been waiting far too long.”

Dream glances at Y/n again and faces the King. He must propose points that appeal to him. “James, don’t you see? A truce between the kinds will be economically beneficial since you won’t have to pay for services that are only implemented to harm magical kinds, like hunters. And the wellbeing of the Kingdom will enhance greatly from the lifted stress of not having to worry about potential dangers—”

“Yes, but those potential dangers will now be inside the Kingdom walls.”

“I understand, James, but if there is peace, then those dangers won’t be a threat anymore.”

“Yes. All we want is peace.” Y/n says, her voice soft from where she stands. Dream steps backwards and reaches back for Y/n’s hand.

King James brings his hand up to rub his chin, his glare is still cold on Y/n. “Kids like you will be the death of me. Even my own son will give me a heart attack before I’m 50.”

Dream smiles. “So, that’s a yes?” The King sighs and drops his gaze to the floor.

“I guess it is. But, if there is any harm placed on my people, there will be bloodshed. Understood?”

Y/n looks up at Dream as they both grin. He looks down at her and their eyes shine with joy and tears.

“Thank you, Sir. I will make you proud.” Dream exclaims, his voice full of excitement and appreciation.

“You always make me proud, son.” The King smiles warmly at Dream before he nods. “Now, go, you have a Kingdom to celebrate with.”

The village roars with cheerful shouts and whistles. As cliche as it is, it's a perfect summer’s day, and it’s not too hot. Magical-kind had been wary at first, entering the kingdom grounds, but soon warmed up when the humans would throw arms over their shoulders and laugh with them.

“Let me down, you fucking crazy duck! Is that what you are? A fucking duck?” A whining voice yells, although there’s a twinge of joy in his words. Quackity has a cheeky smile on his face as he flicks his hand around, messing with some of the younger humans. One of them, named Tommy, has quite the mouth on him, which earns him up in the air, upside down.

His friend, Tubbo laughs from beside the wizard in question. Karl sits behind them, a spell-book in his lap, shaking his head when Tommy’s feet finally land on the ground. “Longer!”

“No~!”

“Tommy! Yes! You’re annoying, so this is what you get!”

The young boy groans again when he feels his body lift off the floor.

The village is alive and full of flashy, bright colours, but, upon the top of the hill in the distance, sits a couple.

The juice from the strawberry dribbles slowly down Dream’s chin. His cheeks blush as Y/n giggles and she reaches her hand out to catch the juice with her thumb, her cheeks heating up too.

The pair had decided their first date would be a picnic on the grass hill that overlooks the kingdom instead of attending the festival. Y/n brought a red and white checkered blanket and a vanilla cake, and Dream brought a basket of snacks and other desserts from the Castle. He had tried convincing Y/n that he didn’t overpack and that he ‘was just a hungry boy’, to which Y/n laughed and told him to shut up.

On their journey there, Dream had pulled a bunch of baby’s breath flowers from the basket he was carrying and shoved them in Y/n’s hand. The action made the witch giggle as she watched him blush. “Thank you, Dream. I love them.” She had said, smiling at him from behind the flowers—the sight made Dream’s heart leap.

Upon arrival, they set up their spot and sat down amongst the ankle-high grass and sparse wildflowers. The sun was light on their skin and the wind blew softly as the pair laid down and watched the clouds pass whilst talking about everything and nothing; Y/n would point out a cloud and say it looked like a goose, and Dream would disagree and say it was shaped like a cabbage, and then they would argue about how the other was wrong and vice versa for a while. They spoke of their childhoods and eventually, Y/n would bring out a book from who knows where and start reading to Dream—who was more than happy to listen to her talk for hours. The two moved from opposite sides of the blanket to right next to each other, Dream’s head on Y/n’s shoulder as she read.

Now, as late morning turns to late noon, the bright blue sky swirls into a fusion of pinks and oranges and then morphs into indigo as the sun dips beyond the horizon—a perfect end to a perfect date.

Dream drops his head to the floor in an attempt to hide his red face. The strawberry juice from Dream’s lips now stains Y/n’s thumb as she moves her hand to cup his cheek, and watches his eyes flutter closed. She traces his scar lightly and her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Y/n,” Dream whispers into the wind. Y/n almost doesn’t catch it. “You know how I told you I nearly didn’t make it when I was born.”

Y/n nods and remains silent as a sign for him to continue. “It wasn’t a miracle at all.”

“What do you mean?” She asks him, her voice soft too.

“My father was a wizard,” The news startles Y/n; she wasn’t expecting that. “And my mother told me that he died because he was defending us from magic, not that he was killed for having magic.”

“Dream…”

“So I just assumed that magic was bad because it killed my father—and I guess in a sense, it did, but not in the way I thought.” Y/n is speechless as she listens to Dream talk, although his voice remains just above a whisper the entire time.

“So that’s why you want the truce? So other children don’t lose a parent like you did?” Dream nods, an outline of a smile gracing his cheeks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

“Dream, look at me,” She whispers. Dream lifts his head slightly to meet her eye, his enchanting eyes reflecting the orange and pink fire in the sky. She runs her hands down his neck and down to his chest.

“Dream,” Y/n mumbles again, her nose brushing Dream’s lightly. His heart beats quickly and he hopes she can’t feel it through his white buttoned shirt where her hands lay. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”

Y/n tilts her chin up in an attempt to meet Dream’s mouth. He laughs breathlessly as their lips bump together, the kiss not really being a kiss yet.

“Just kiss me.” He teases, leaning further back.

Y/n sighs, her eyes closing in annoyance at his antics. “Dream, seriously. I want to kiss you.”

And soon their lips are meeting in a soft pash. There are no fireworks, no goosebumps; just airy headaches and the feeling of finally relieving the ever-growing anticipation of revelling in each other. Y/n smiles, her teeth clanging with Dream’s. He laughs again, pulling her body flush against his.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to make you mine,” He mumbles against her lips.

Y/n visibly cringes. “Gross.”

Dream giggles at her reaction and pushes his lips back onto hers. Y/n pulls away abruptly.

“Wait, does that mean you can do magic?” She asks, her eyes wide with wonder and curiosity.

Dream shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve never tried, but I’m sure if I got the right training from an amazing, gorgeous, intelligent teacher, maybe I could learn.”

Y/n scrunches her nose up and swats his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Dream laughs shortly before he dips his head back down to her lips, his knuckles brushing her cheek lightly. The wind around them picks up slightly and Y/n feels static on her skin before she opens her eyes, turning her head to see glitter falling from Dream’s fingers. “Oh my god.”

Feedback is always appreciated xx

#life was a willow fic #lwaw #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken imagines #dream x reader #dream imagine #dream imagines #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #dream smp imagines #dream smp imagine #dream smp x reader #dream x fem!reader

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stregoni-benefici · 3 years

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Can we look deep into everything wrong with midnight sun

No, I am glad you asked. Okay *deep breath* I bet I will miss something out, so it would be appropriate if someone would contribute, hence, this post should be collaborative. I apologise, in an ideal world my English would be on the level of a native speaker and this post wouldn’t be just incoherent rambling.

Let’s start with the most obvious fact: MEYER MADE ANOTHER DAMN BOOK on a story, which is exploitative of Native American culture and racist. The profit didn’t go to the Quileute tribe she exploited, but into her white privileged pocket. She did not even address the issues, she did not apologies nor took any actions to “redeem” her wrongdoing. NOTHING, instead she published a new book, which was so difficult to write because Edward is such an emo character (her words). So, she perpetuates the damage without a second thought.

Racism: Edward on various occasions have very disrespectful and questionable thoughts on the tribe “I felt the depth of rage...So the Quileutes were going to keep pushing, straining against the treaty they’d made, the treaty that did nothing but protects them. It was as if they couldn’t be happy until we did kill someone. They wanted us to be monsters” Bitch, what the f*ck?? Suddenly you don’t want to be a monster? What are you playing? So, if someone critically assesses you you go all defensive. YOU ARE MONSTERS, not just because for being immortal bloodsucking creatures, but for the pure fact you pushed the Native Americans into some messed up treaty, you were supposed to leave USA overall and just let the land be. They don’t need more colonisers oh my, is that not obvious. SMeyer basically portrays the Natives as the bad ones, for not being nice to the Cullens - even though they have every possible right to be angry at them!

Colonialist oppression: So, I have already created a rant on Carlisle calling Billy, that they are moving back. This is the worst example of internalised colonialist behaviour/entitlement/racism and it screams of such a damn privilege I cannot even. Here is the post Anyway, this just screams to heavens how ignorant and racist SMeyer is, she wanted to justify and show how good Carlisle is. Oh my, she literally thought it makes him a good person to call Billy and just casually inform him that they are returning to Forks. What the hell, was that woman thinking. It only shows how ignorant and vile Carlisle is. He was aware of the damage they are imposing on the tribe, but they are still moving back, calling the tribe just to let them know.. asjfksjflafkda how dense are you SMEYER??

Misogyny: Edward constantly keeps addressing Rosalie’s “shallow” behaviour. “Rosalie was mortally offended that I found some significant human girl more appealing than her” Like for real SMeyer? Are you trying to tell us that Rosalie is so superficial that that’s her main concern? I am sure there are other fitting examples. The way how she portrays Rosalie in MS is concerning though. Instead of supporting women, she bashes them for good looks! She has serious internalised issues.

Creepy/Manipulative: I am not going to lie, but my brain just ignored all the awful behaviour Edward does, my brain just didn’t have the energy and blocked it out. However, stalking is okay and romantic? What is wrong with you? Like for real? This can have an awful impact on young people, do you realise it SMeyer? Also, any functional parent would scold Edward for such behaviour, for visiting her at night and watching her sleep??? How disgusting! Don’t try to tell me that they just ignored it??!!! Esme just let Edward be a creep?

Family question: Renee was portrayed as a horrible mother like I don’t need to elaborate on that. Okay, I got it dysfunctional mothers are an issue and they are very real, but Meyer didn’t have to demonise her. In the contrast, the Cullens are meant to present the perfect family, yet Edward barely talks to his parents in the first place??? Like SMeyer had the opportunity to properly shows us the family dynamic and she just didn’t, instead, we got tons of Edward emo brooding. Like she skipped the Carlisle/Edward office talk or there was minimal interaction with Esme, so what’s the point of creating a perfect family premise and not interact with it.

Egocentrism: I am not into explaining how egocentric and arrogant Edward is. He is basically a judgmental asshole. No, the fact he lived for decades does not excuse his awful mind processes and terrible self-centrism. He is emo moody lad, privileged af, who is overly dramatic and blames others without critical thinking. He is condescending and judging every student at his school, including teachers. The cherry on top is his constant arrogance and I cannot digest that.

Don’t forget to donate or support the Quileute tribe!!!

#midnight sun #pls carlislesscarf #help #dont hate me guys #twilight renaissance #if I got anything wrong tell me

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joyful-soul-collector · 3 years

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❄️Week 1: December 9-15❄️

stars in the city ch. 10 by @parkrstark (Pt. 3 of constant as the stars above)

Summary: Peter and Steve are finally settling into their new life with Tony. Recovery isn't always a straight line, especially with a four-year-old, but they're trying their best. Their newfound fame has Steve juggling between his private life and the one plastered on the front page of every tabloid. He shouldn't have been surprised that the public didn't believe in his rags to riches love story. Tony usually makes it easier for him to handle it all. Until he starts to distance himself from Steve, as if now he's the one hiding something. And Steve is left wondering if he's about to lose Tony for good this time.

Relationships/Tropes: Stony, Irondad, Papa Steve, Homeless Peter Parker, Homeless Steve Rogers, No Powers AU, (Coffee Shop AU??? Sorta)

Review: This fic just always makes my heart ache in the best way. So much fluff, so much angst, it's a perfect balance that I'm just absolutely in love with!

❄️

Devils Roll The Dice ch. 9 by @ephemeralstark

Summary: “I miss you Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted as he stared up through the leaves overhead at the stars that twinkled promisingly at him, “I wish you were back here. I would give anything to fix things, I would give anything for you to be alive today.” What Peter didn't know, as he made that wish and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall shamefully, was that the Universe was always listening, and it was dangerous to make a wish and offer up anything. - Tony Stark wakes up in his bed one morning, not realising that months have passed since his death - that's going to be awkward to explain to the world. Peter Parker has been living on the streets, trying to hide his identity as the entire world wants Spider-Man dead, and dealing with the trauma that Beck left him. To make things worse - it's now his fault that yet another bad guy thinks they're entitled to owning Earth.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Spideychelle, Pepperony, Happy Hogan/May Parker, Homeless Peter Parker, Post-FFH, Post-Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Comes Back To Life

Review: Oh man this fic is so sad and so sweet, I love it so much! I love how it combines Peter's trauma after Mysterio with his reaction to finding out that Tony is alive again, it's just so creative!

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His Heart Bloomed Sunflowers (and he wore them on his skin) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 24 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Peter honestly didn't know how no one had discovered his tattoos yet. He wasn't broadcasting them but he wasn't exactly being the most subtle either. Although he was partly grateful for it since he was dreading what would happen when May on Tony saw them. But he was pleasantly surprised at the reactions that he got when he was found out. Peter had expected anger, disappointment, maybe annoyance at the very least. What he got was far from that. (A sequel to Comfortember Day 4. Anxiety) Comfortember Day 29. Make/Build/Create Something Beautiful

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Spideychelle, Tattoos, Comfortember

Review: I love this fic so much! I loved the description of how the flowers wilted when the ones he'd drawn had faded, and how the ones he got tattooed never wilted again :']

❄️

I’ll drive all night (to keep them warm) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 23 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: For the next hour they tried to calm Morgan again but, just like the rest of the day with Tony and Pepper, nothing was working. No teething rings, gel, nothing. The little girl was just well and truly grumpy, tired, and sore.

Suddenly an idea came to Peter and he turned to Tony and Pepper.

"Can I try something?"

They both nodded at him, prompting him to continue with his idea.

"Can I take her for a drive?" He asked. "I'm not sure if it'll work but Ben used to do it for me when I was younger and it always calmed me down."

Comfortember day 28. Car Ride

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Baby Morgan, Car Rides, Comfortember

Review: This one was so cute! I love Peter being a good big brother to baby Morgan, and I relate to finding trips in the car relaxing and nice :D

❄️

It’s What Brothers Do by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 22 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Morgan was somehow full of even more energy than usual that day and wanted to see if she could do the monkey bars that were attached to the jungle gym herself. Before Peter could stop her, she had already grabbed hold of the first one and let herself swing towards the next one.

But the little girl had misjudged just how heavy swinging your own body weight was and almost immediately started falling. Peter shot forward from his place on the ground, jumping and diving, just managing to catch her before they both hit the grass of the park grounds. Comfortember Day 27. Park

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Pepperony, Peter & Morgan, Irondad, Peter Protects Morgan, Comfortember

Review: Another cute Big Brother Peter fic! I love that Peter was really protecting Morgan in this one, he loves her enough to put himself in harm's way to protect her

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The Burger Debate by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 21 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Tony and Peter shared a lot of similarities, there was no doubt about it. A lot of their mannerisms were the same, personality quirks (especially in the lab), occasional recklessness, selfless hero personas, etc etc. However, one thing they didn't share was their taste in burgers. Whenever the topic came up there was a friendly, yet heated, 'disagreement' as Tony called it. No matter what anyone ever told him, Tony thought that a cheeseburger was the holy grail of burgers. And Peter, well… he happened to think the same only for chicken burgers.

Comfortember Day 26. Junk Food

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Infinity War Compliant, Not Endgame Compliant

Review: This was so sweet and so sad, especially the part where Tony couldn't eat burgers while Peter was snapped because it hurt him too much. It showed his grief really well

❄️

Career Day Drabble by @jen27ny

Summary: uncle happy and uncle rhodey come to peter’s career day

Relationships/Tropes: Happy & Peter, Rhodey & Peter, Happy & Rhodey, Minor Irondad, Career Day

Review: I loved this story so much! I really appreciate seeing some nice Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy content!!

❄️

Gifts by @wayward-fairchild (Pt. 5 of Holiday Collection 2020)

Summary: Rhodey and Tony have been together to the point Rhodey sees the kids as his own. Maybe that is why the kids agree to help with Rhodey's biggest gift to Tony yet.

Relationships/Tropes: Rhodey & Tony, Irondad, Rhodey & Peter, Christmas, Kid Peter

Review: This was just absolutely adorable! I love some Irondads content and this was very sweet

❄️

evermore by @lyssismagical

Summary: Just a Solid Vent Fic. I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho

Relationships/Tropes: Spideychelle, Irondad, Peter Overworks Himself

Review: I loved this one a lot! I definitely relate to Peter with tending to overwork myself during school and letting other things fall away, and then feeling quite exhausted after it's all over haha. I'm glad MJ and Tony were able to help him <3

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Two Hours Spent Cuddling by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 2 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: A giant snowstorm takes out the power in the tower. While waiting for the backup generator to come up, the Stark-Rhodes family finds a way to stay warm.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: I. Love this story. So much. I haven't seen very many stories that center around Rhodey being a father-figure to Peter, and this one definitely filled all my desires for such a story! It's so fluffy and sweet, and I loved every word :D

❄️

Three Stark-Rhodes’ Decorating by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Tony, Rhodey, and Peter Stark-Rhodes begin decorating for the holiday season.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This story was absolutely adorable! It was another featuring Papa Rhodey and Dad Tony with Little Peter, and it was so well done! I love that Tony's robots and JARVIS each get a stocking hung over the fire too, and the way Peter pronounce ornaments as "orminents" was so cute!!!

❄️

Four Poorly Wrapped Presents by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Peter has two presents each for his Daddy and his Papa. The only problem was, he had no idea how to wrap them. He figures the Avengers could help.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This was so sweet! Clint, Nat, and Steve treat Peter with such sweetness, and it made my heart all fuzzy and warm <3

❄️

If you look at any these stories, be sure to show the author your appreciation with a comment/kudos/reblog where applicable!

Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

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peggyrose19 · 3 years

Text

Wonderful Unknown

O’Knutzy AU where Lo and Finn don’t kiss in college, but still become teammates on the Lion, where they still meet Leo Knut and all fall for each other. They become close, Logan actually moves in with them, and they decide to have a late-night skate one night when Logan can’t sleep. There’s mutual pining and mild angst, and it’s possible there’s some romance as well. Did I proofread this? Not really. Do I have any idea how to write a poly relationship? No. Did I try anyway? Hell yes.

So apparently I wrote this in September? And then never posted it? It could be why I don’t remember it. I titled it and everything, damn. But uh, here it is now I guess? Characters from @lumosinlove <333

Logan was on the couch in the living room, the light dim as he scrolled through his phone. It was late, past midnight. Finn and Leo were both awake, Leo puttering about in the kitchen despite the late hour and Finn with a book open on his chest on the other end of the couch. Logan’s phone buzzed just then, a notification from his mom.

He opened at it quickly, a little surprised to hear from her so late, but pleased all the same. But he froze when he read the contents of the message, his mind going suddenly quiet.

“Logan? Are you okay?” He blinked and found Finn looking at him concernedly, green eyes wide. Leo stood still in the kitchen, watching them carefully.

“My sister’s in the hospital,” was all he said.

“What?”

“Sydney, she’s hurt. It was a hit.”

“Well, is she gonna be okay?”

Logan shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know.” His voice broke and Finn knelt in front of him, setting a comforting on his knee. Leo came fully into the room and crouched by Finn’s side. “Mom said it’s her ankle. The doctors are with her now.”

Finn rubbed soothing circles on his knee. “Okay. Well that’s good, it means she’s going to be okay. Ankle isn’t life-threatening.”

“Yeah, but what if she can’t skate anymore?” Logan looked down at the boys, his eyes wide and frantic. “That would kill her.”

“Tremz.” Finn pressed a gentle hand to his cheek, pretending it was purely platonic and comforting and not at all romantic. “It’s going to be okay, yeah? You said the doctors are with her, right?” Logan nodded mutely. “Then she’s in good hands. She’s stubborn, your sister, like you, right? She’ll make it through this, I know it.”

“My mom said not to come. That I have to stay here, focus on the game.”

“And she’s right,” Leo piped in. “You won’t do her any good pacing the hospital. Sydney isn’t going anywhere, she’ll still be there in three days. But we need you on Tuesday, d’accord? We need you.”

“Oui, I know. I’m staying. I just...I feel so helpless just sitting here.”

Leo and Finn swapped a glance before looking back to Logan.

“Why don’t we go skating?” Finn suggested after a moment. “We’d always do that in college, remember?”

Logan smiled a little at the memory. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

And so, that was how the three of them found themselves at the rink a little past one in the morning, ice still roughed up from practice, lacing their skates in silence.

Logan was the first on the ice, heading aimlessly in circles. The only sound was his skates gliding over the ice. Leo and Finn glanced at each other, something unsaid passing between them, before they too stepped onto the rink.

“Wanna race?” Finn asked Logan, who just shrugged aimlessly in response. “Nut?” he asked instead. Leo gave him a tired smile.

“Sure.”

They headed to one end of the rink, Logan watching quietly as Finn counted down to one and they both took off towards the opposite side.

Finn was clumsy on the ice, his feet dragging slowly. Leo didn’t look much better off as he stifled a yawn behind his hand, trying to keep his focus.

“Yes!” Finn crowed as he reached the other side first, slamming into the boards. Leo reached him a moment later.

“I’m sorry guys, you must be exhausted,” Logan said suddenly. They turned and looked at him, hovering a few feet away.

“It’s okay, Tremz.” Leo smiled softly.

“Yeah, but-”

“Lo,” Finn interrupted him. “We’re here for you, okay? Even if we’re a bit sleep deprived.” Leo nodded his agreement, even as he yawned again.

A moment later, Finn and Logan both yawned as well.

“Dammit Nut.” Leo grinned guiltily.

“What? It’s past my bedtime.”

Finn pushed him. “It is not!”

“What? I was up early this morning! All of us were. I am entitled to feel a bit tired.”

“Fine, fine. I suppose we did get up rather early this morning,” Finn allowed.

“Fucking morning skate,” Logan grumbled. Leo rolled his eyes before skating over to him and grabbing his arm, pulling him forwards.

“C’mon Logan!” he called, letting go of him and gliding ahead. “You’re the one that wanted a distraction!”

“Fine,” Logan muttered and followed Leo. Finn followed and soon they were all laughing, chasing each other around the ice and making up silly games.

After a while, Leo stopped them with a laugh and stepped off the ice, going in search of some water bottles. Finn followed Logan around the rink, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Logan was skating backwards, watching him with a soft smile.

“You’re cute,” he murmured under his breath.

Finn froze, only his previous momentum keeping him moving. Logan’s eyes were wide.

“Sorry,” he stammered.

Finn tilted his head, considering him, his sluggish brain desperately trying to keep up. While he looked at him, Logan came to a stop against the boards and Finn stopped in front of him.

“Did you just call me cute?” A small smirk played at Finn’s lips.

“No!” Logan replied quickly. He blushed and ducked his head. “Maybe.”

With shaking hands, Finn leaned out and rested a gloved hand on Logan’s cheek, his other hand settling on his waist. Logan leaned into him just a bit, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric. Finn swallowed hard. He could feel Logan’s breath hot on his face. His brown eyes were wide, uncertain and afraid, but longing lay there too.

“Lo…”

Without thinking, without giving himself time to shy away, Finn leaned forward and pressed his lips to Logan’s.

He had intended it to be quick, just a simple peck. But Logan, after a moment of complete stillness, had gasped into Finn’s mouth and wrapped his arms around his neck. Finn’s fingers dug into Logan’s hip and pulled him closer.

“Uh, guys?” a timid voice asked. They jumped apart and whipped around to see Leo staring at them, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “Sorry. Do you want me to go?” His voice was shaking a bit.

“Knutty,” Finn breathed. His lips were pink and his hair was mussed from Logan’s fingers. But his face fell as he stared at the younger boy, with this head ducked and devastation in his eyes, and something cracked in his heart. “C’mere.”

Hesitantly, Leo skated over to them, looking apprehensive. As soon as he was within reach, Finn grabbed his hand and pulled him in. This of course only lead to them bumping right into each other.

“Oop, sorry,” Finn said quietly. He made to move to distance himself from Leo though, staying pressed flush against him.

Leo stared up at him, shocked, but he didn’t move either. Logan didn’t say a word, watching them with his mouth slightly open.

“Finn?” Leo asked finally.

“Yeah, Nut?”

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Finn looked at him with wide eyes, before glancing over at Logan. He had a strange expression on his face that, for once, Finn couldn’t read.

“Um…” Instead of finishing, Finn lunged forward and pressed his lips to Leo. Leo kissed him back, soft and sweet.

Only a moment later, Finn jumped back, wide eyes finding Logan, who had begun nuzzling at his neck and pressing soft kisses to his skin.

“Logan, what-”

Logan huffed, but didn’t say anything.

Leo was staring at the two of them, eyes wide. “I-” he stuttered and both looked over at him. “I need to go.” With that, he hurried off the ice and disappeared into the locker room, leaving Logan and Finn in stunned silence.

“Finn?” Logan asked finally, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you kiss me? Why did you kiss Leo?”

Finn ran a hand roughly through his hair. “Dammit, Lo. I don’t know. I mean, how could I do this? How could I like both of you? At the same time? It’s all a mess, I don’t- I don’t know.”

“You like me-”

“I love you.”

“-and Leo? Wait, you love me?”

Finn sighed. “Of course I do, Lo. I always have. How could I not? It just took me a long time to realize it. And an even longer time to do something about it.”

“I- yes.”

Finn frowned. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I love you too, you idiot.” Logan rolled his eyes. “And Leo,” he added, brow furrowing a bit.

“You- you like Leo, too?”

“Yeah. I thought it made a terrible person for so long. I mean, how could I like both of you? Who does that?”

“We do.” Finn pressed their foreheads together, looking down into Logan’s bambi brown eyes.

“I want you, both of you,” Logan admitted quietly.

“So do I,” Finn breathed. Logan looked up at him trustingly, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His mind was on Leo the whole time, imagining what it would be like if he was there, if he even wanted them at all. Logan pulled away.

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“C’mon.”

Together, they headed off the ice and into the locker room Leo had disappeared into. They found him hunched over in his stall, head in his hands, shoulder’s shaking with silent sobs.

“Nut?” Finn asked, rushing over to him. “Hey, don’t cry sweetheart.”

Leo sniffed and looked down at him where he was crouched by his knee. “Hey, Fish.” He gave him a watery smile.

“Leo?” Logan asked timidly, coming to crouch beside him. “We need to tell you something. We-” he stopped, glanced at Finn- “Well, I can’t speak for Finn, but I’ve been in love with him for almost eight years. But…”

When he didn’t say anything else, Finn continued, “We-we talked, and realized that… that we both really like you too, Nut.”

Leo looked up sharply, gaze darting between them. “You- what?”

“We want you. If you’ll have us.”

“You’re serious? You’re not joking.”

“No.”

“Oh my god.” Leo stared at them, openmouthed. He said again, “Oh my god.” Then he lunged forward and pulled both of them close, his lips finding Logan’s for the first time.

Logan kissed him fiercely, a hand on his jaw and the other tangled in his hair. After a moment, Finn began pressing kisses to Leo’s neck, and then to Logan’s, hands roaming over both of them. Blindly, Leo reached out and grabbed onto Logan’s sweater.

Leo groaned when Finn’s hand pressed to his stomach, lips attached to his collarbone. Logan pulled away from him and Finn immediately took his place, Logan watching them for a moment, his cheeks flushing brighter.

“God,” he whispered. His eyes were bright with desire. Leo and Finn parted and looked at him, all three of them panting hard.

They stayed that way, looking at each other, with their red kissed lips and mussed up hair, hearts beating fast and breaths coming in gasps.

“We should head home,” Finn said eventually. “It’s getting pretty late.” Leo and Logan both glanced at the clock in the corner. It was almost three.

“Wow. We’ve been here a while.”

“Tremz, your mom say anything about Sydney?” Leo asked.

“Oh! I dunno.” He hurried over and grabbed his phone from his bag. He flicked through the messages before sighing in relief. “She’s gonna be okay. It’s a bad break, but the doctors think she’ll be able to make a full recovery.”

Finn grinned. “Oh, good. That’s great.”

“See? We told you she’d be fine.”

Logan smiled at them. “C’mon. Let’s head home.”

“Can… can we really do this?” Logan asked timidly on the drive home. “Be together?” Leo grabbed his hand.

“Yes,” Finn replied firmly. “It’s us. We’ll make it work.”

And Logan’s responding smile was enough to light up the world.

#o'knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #first kiss #injury cw #hospital mention cw

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (13/14)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

With attire alone, Levi was already a fish out of water.

As the seconds ticked though, his self consciousness only grew.

It wasn’t just an issue of clothing. Too many things had been against him the whole way to the dinner room. The white and silver of the windows of the private dinner room in the hotel reflected the setting sun, the marble floors, the glass bridge, the carpeted floors.

The scenery was only half the battle though. The men and women strode in and out of the dinner room with attire much grander than is. There were leather bags, the jewelry and constantly hovering in the air were the business vernacular that fell into one ear and out the order.

There were too many conversations on mergers, acquisitions, business climates, market prices he could never be part of. And his own direct companions weren’t making it any better.

As Levi soon understood, it wasn’t their job to make him feel comfortable anyway.

“Yelena,” he repeated, a memory exercise for himself. The whole journey from the convention center on the first floor to one of the rooms in the mid floor of the hotel was silent and long. In the sea of business pleasantries though, it seemed ironic that the blonde had never even made conversation beyond her own name.

Even as she sat next to him on the dinner table, she didn’t speak, not even bothering to respond to her own name. She was too close though, only a few inches away that Levi swore she had heard it.

“That’s your name right?” Levi added. He couldn’t think of much else to say. After blurting her name mindlessly, with Porco and Pieck seated just in front of him, looking at him expectantly, he knew he had to continue with something.

“I introduced myself back in the lobby already,” Yelena finally responded.

“You did,” Levi said.

“Is there anything you want to ask?” Yelena asked, no hint of benevolence in her tone.

Levi had been rolling on the bed, in and out of sleep the whole day. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. He didn’t trust himself to think.

Yelene had a knowing look on her face, as if she knew something he didn’t. And she seemed to be enjoying it. Since a while ago, she hadn’t at all been subtle with the fact that somehow, by just their first meeting, Levi had managed to rub her the wrong way. It wasn’t too radical of an idea, that she may enjoy his pain.

Levi’s mind was suddenly racing, reminding him why he had even considered going in the first place. Is there anything you wanna ask? Those words echoed for a while longer. The longer he sat there silently, the more restless he became. He avoided her gaze, looking behind her, then behind Porco and Pieck, taking in his surroundings again. He was observing mannerisms, branded bags, branded ties, branded purses and Zeke in the middle of all of it, going from one table to the other.

Eventually, after the discomfort settled, Levi realized he was torturing himself for a reason.

Hange wasn’t there. And he shouldn’t have needed that long look to notice it. But you’ve given up already? Right?

“You’re not going to eat?” Pieck was a lot more friendly. There was a huge difference between being polite and being friendly and Levi suspected, he was only seeing politeness as friendliness given the stark contrast of Yelena’s overall approach towards him

In the air, tension hung so thick. Levi didn’t notice a piece of bread and a bowl of soup had been served in front of him. “I will.” He immediately went for the spoon in front of him.

“That’s the spoon for the main course,” Yelena said.

“What?” By the second, Levi was starting to realize how disconnected he actually was. Around the soup, there were spoons, forks and knives in multiple sizes. In a panic, Levi had looked around to see it was the same for everyone else.

Yet, everyone else knew how to navigate such a complex design.

“The small one is the soup spoon.” Pieck was helpful at least. “No, that’s the tea spoon,” she added as she looked pointedly at the smallest one Levi had taken hold of.

Levi was familiar enough with tea to be familiar with the size of the teaspoon. At that point though, who cared what spoon he ate with? He wasn’t there to dine.

By some pride or just utter frustration at the whole situation, the spoon debacle was never solved and Levi never touched his soup that night. He closed himself off from everything else, keeping his world closed to anything but the entrance, Zeke, the crowds, and the one familiar face he wanted to see.

But Hange never showed up.

“She’s not coming. If that’s what you’re thinking.” Yelena could have been reading his mind.

“Who’s not coming?” Levi asked. He widened his eyes in mock surprise but he kept his voice toneless. In his mind, that seemed like a good balance to display both calm and disconnect.

Yelena never answered the question. Maybe she knew silence was the right answer, that is, if her attention had been to keep his insides boiling in frustration, his mind racing.

The grin on her face only proved it. Maybe that was her intention.

It only got worse though as the night dragged on and Levi noticed his own restlessness around the salad course that he could barely even look at.

He could barely coordinate his hands. His legs were trembling.

Those few moments he focused on evening out his breathing, he was able to grip the spoon, then the steak knife as the main course came in.

As if to add salt to whatever wound she had, Yelena commented abruptly. “It’s not everyday people like you will be able to get steak like this.”

The steak could have just been soft. Or Levi was recovering. One of those, he couldn’t be too sure. But it was a good steak. He could tell that much. It melted in his mouth and he had spent an inordinate amount of time contemplating how it was physically possible for steak to melt in his mouth.

Then suddenly the delectable steak rotted mid chew. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” It was as if Yelena was on a mission to be a total buzzkill. Maybe she was being paid by Zeke to do just that.

And she was doing a wonderful job. Levi almost choked on that last piece, his fork fell to his lap. In a bout of embarrassment, he stood up. “Toilet.”

Five minutes and an empty bladder later, whatever peace and calm he had managed to muster alone in the toilet completely dissipated. It seemed like that dinner was also on a mission to make him as miserable as possible even in a supposedly pleasant environment.

“Where’s my steak?” Levi put too much energy into keeping his tone as subdued as possible.

“Oh, you weren’t done?” Pieck asked, seeming genuinely curious.

He had only gotten two bites. Of course, he wouldn’t be done. He was close to raising his hand up to call the waiter until he was reminded, he didn’t even pay for the dinner. Did he even have the right to complain?

At that point, Levi was just a little ticked, his grumbling stomach at having missed three courses over his own discomfort and tense state was already catching up to him. “What made you think I was done?”

“You put your spoon and fork together, like this,” Pieck said. “That means you’re done with the course.” She organized her plate the same way Levi did, for just a second.

Maybe Levi had been too self conscious. In an attempt to seem more posh than he actually was, Levi had channeled his own fastidiousness into putting the utensils together before he left for the toilet.

“I would think someone who works in corporate would know this. This is standard fine dining,” Yelena said nonchalantly.

Fine dining for Levi meant a dinner at a cafe, or a sit down restaurant. The whole world that existed for the sake of fine dining, the course meals, the secret language he didn’t seem to understand felt completely unnecessary. And the longer they sat there as if deliberately keeping him in the dark while he starved, Levi only became more and more impatient.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have known any better at first,” Levi said.

“I’ve been handling Zeke’s properties overseas for years so I’ve had my fair share of fine dining experience.” She then turned to Pieck and Porco who both nodded. “Even before that, my parents have taught me this. Have yours?”

Levi’s earliest memories of fine dining had been sit down restaurants, diners, nothing too fancy. He shook his head. “Well, I didn’t come here with the intention of dining. You put me on that list yourself, without even waiting for a reply.” He regretted it, as soon as he let it out. His grumbling stomach had him almost out of control.

Yelena raised one eyebrow. “Oh? Then why did you still come, Mr. Ackerman? The free food?”

Levi froze.

“The free food you barely even touched?” Yelena pressed.

And Levi stiffened up, much harder than he would have thought was ‘completely frozen.’

“You have some business to settle with Mr. Jaeger I’m guessing?”

“It’s none of your business.” Levi managed to say.

“I’ve been working for the Jaegers for years. I manage their overseas properties, a few apartments and houses here and there,” she said proudly.

“And?” Levi challenged. “Does that make you entitled to whatever other business Zeke has?”

That question was a response enough. Enough to get Yelena crack, her expression shifted from incredulous, to abrasive to subdued. One eyebrow raised, mouth twitching slightly. “I had to clean up the mess you two left behind.”

Mess? Levi had an inkling of an answer.

A clatter of metal on a plate. “Yelena! Not here,” Pieck said.

“Then we should talk outside then.” Yelena was half way to standing up, before she stopped herself.

Levi found himself following her gaze. The one view that had her frozen in her tracks had been Zeke and before Levi even knew it himself, he was just as surprised as Yelena.

“Should we retire early?” Zeke asked.

“Sir, you haven’t eaten yet,” Yelena argued.

Zeke shook his head. “I hold these dinners to find potential business partners, not to eat.” He turned to Pieck. “I think Pieck can take over from here. I’ll leave you to answer any questions about Jaeger healthcare holdings.”

Pieck nodded. “Yes sir, I’ll take over.”

“No hurry, everyone’s still busy with their meals…” Zeke looked pointedly at his surroundings at the other people. HIs staff table had been conveniently placed by the corner, and it didn’t seem at all like their conversation had been heard by everyone else.

Pieck and Porco were noticeably eating faster, seeming deep in thought. Back into business mode maybe, the caustic exchange of a while ago completely forgotten. Or at least they looked like they were attempting to forget it.

Not burdened with that same responsibility, Yelena didn’t seem to put up any facade. Her own antagonizing attitude towards Levi didn’t falter. Yet somehow, Zeke’s presence had kept her mum, subdued her to just venomous glares.

They exited the dinner hall and made their way out of the hallway, opening up to the open hotel lobby. “We can talk in my private suite,” Zeke said. “I don’t like having a lot of my conversations in public.”

Levi didn’t respond. The glances Yelena snuck him only made it harder to come up with anything more than a few mumbles which he was sure would only make him look pathetic in front of Zeke.

“Did you pay for the flight yourself?” Zeke asked.

Levi nodded. Where’s Hange? That thought tore into his mind so abruptly, Levi found himself having to clamp his mouth shut, much tighter than normal. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. God knows, he might end up asking just that cursed question.

“You’re quiet,” Zeke commented as they entered the elevator. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

Levi nodded and mumbled some hint of a yes.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. “Really what was your favorite course?”

The steak obviously. Even those words got caught somewhere in his throat, admitting to Zeke that he enjoyed the food seemed almost like flaunting himself naked.

Luckily—or unluckily, Zeke didn’t prod, instead going for another speech which made Levi regret keeping silent. “I hold dinners every night for PR, get the right potential partners to the same room, for my healthcare holdings, my supermarket holdings, my…” Zeke rattled on.

To Levi, it felt the blonde had just been jacking himself off instead of actually making conversation. Still, that gave Levi time to think.

Thinking turned out to be a bad thing.

Even before they arrived at the penthouse floor, Levi had to admit, the hotel was posh. The scent of new wood hung in the air, the marble finishings, the lamp made out of metals Levi suspected weren’t easy to acquire. And when they stepped from the elevator wing to the matted floor of the penthouse, whatever plush they used underneath greeted him in some strange manner.

Strangely, Levi felt guilty for dirtying something which he was completely aware was supposed to be dirtied anyway dealing with foot traffic everyday. Then the more they walked, the more self conscious he became of the way he was walking.

Zeke and Yelena both walked ahead with confident strides and Zeke never stopped talking. When Levi found himself listening, he noticed, Zeke's tirades only made the grand hall seem grander, a completely different world to Levi, something he wasn’t supposed to be in.

Was he a visitor. Hell, maybe not even a visitor. A slave? A serf?

“The convention is to attract potential resellers. We’re planning on reselling our research, our products, our technology, to this region...”

They walked towards the end of the hall, stopping in front of some fancy door only accentuated by the plush carpets and the decorative lamps.

“... And this city will be our hub…” It looked like Zeke had been too distracted by his own grand plans to even bother to open the door. It was fortunate then that Yelena had the key and that she knew her way into the presidential suite.

They settled on the sofa in the living rooms, the first room past the foyer.

“We’ll set up office space... Maybe a building...”

It was around then that Levi noticed he hadn’t been offered a seat but he didn’t mind it too much. The multiple sitting rooms, the wide window to one side that gave a good view of the infinity pool on the balcony, and beyond that, a view of the city.

Did Hange get to swim? Levi looked out for a while longer and he couldn’t look away. The longer he looked, the easier it became to imagine her leaning over the infinity pool in her purple bathing suit.

“It will cost a few million dollars…”

Just like in the country club.

“Levi, you want to go for a swim?”

Levi coughed, an instinctive movement. “Sorry… Excuse me, what?”

Zeke looked very unimpressed. It was obviously a joke. “For gods sake, sit down. It’s distracting just watching you stand awkwardly.”

“So why did you invite me here?” Levi asked. If not to listen to you ramble. He added silently to himself.

“I think I have a right to answer first,” Zeke said. He nodded to Yelena. The latter walked away and back to the kitchen. “Why are you here? Don’t tell me you’re here for the convention?”

“What if I am?”

Zeke spared a small grin. He leaned back on the sofa and looked to the side, as if sharing an inside joke with himself. “And do you have plans of investing?”

Millions of dollars. Those three words echoed in Levi’s head. He didn’t have that money and he most likely never would.

Zeke didn’t give him time to speak. “Figures,” he muttered. “So why did you come here?” He asked in a clearer voice.

“You invited m---”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t here already,” Zeke said.

Yelena chose that moment to come in between them, a wine bottle on one hand, two wine glasses on the other. Her movements were too casual, the fine dining positions of a while ago seemed almost like a facade.

Zeke gave a nod in thanks. “Sit where you’re comfortable.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate. She settled on one of the sofa chairs, a comfortable distance between them. She mirrored Zeke’s own expression, a mix between mocking and expectant.

It only became harder to speak. When Levi was weighing between speaking up and staying mum, he found, as painful as it was to continue speaking, the outcome seemed more desirable.

At least in his head.

“What’s wrong? Can’t tell me why you visited my convention?” Zeke took a sip of the wine. “Unless it’s something… controversial? Embarrassing? Offensive?.”

Levi felt his skin crawl. Not completely in control of his body, he almost feared his facade cracking and not noticing it. He cleared his throat. “I was going to speak.” He paused, using that moment, to meet Zeke’s eyes. “It’s about Hange.”

“What about my Hange?” Zeke had put too much emphasis in those last two words, it seemed almost out of place. In one sleek movement, he straightened up on his seat and tightened his grip on his wine glass

It was as if Levi was walking on Zeke’s territory, completely unwelcome. And Levi was starting to notice that. He shook his head and softened his voice, a subtle peace offering. “I had plans for the emotion alarm, I wanted to discuss them with Hange, get her opinion---”

“Erwin hasn’t told you yet?” Zeke put down his wine glass. “We’re terminating the contract.

It was like a ton of bricks fell on him. His stomach followed suit. Levi went for his wine glass and took a long sip which quickly turned into a gulp then he let out a cough. Water would have done a much better job to clear the tickle in the throat, the pang in his chest and the hollowness in his chest that followed. But he wasn’t going to ask for water in Zeke’s territory yet.

A ninety five percent chance of termination. Erwin had said back in their meeting.

“So it’s final?” Levi asked. The crushing disappointment had been enough proof that Levi had been vouching on that five percent.

Zeke nodded once. “Hange won’t be bothering you anymore. We’ll find another developer for her to work with.”

“I was working on some plans. They’re suggestions I was hoping she’d consider. If I---”

“Levi, can you send it over through email? Do you have to talk to her?”

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. He bent his head down almost immediately, focused on his shaking hands that were only gripping his knees tighter. He dug his nails into his knees, as if that would be enough to stop the shaking. “No, I don’t need to.” It could have come out as an exhale or an actual response.

“Well, that makes things easier. You know, she doesn't want to see you.” Zeke’s voice was painfully casual.

Levi looked up again, regretting it almost immediately. Zeke had a look of triumph on his face. It had only served to piss Levi all the more that Zeke had tried to hide it behind a nonchalant face. Seeing the small smile that decorated his lips, Levi dug his nails deeper into his knees. “Then why?”

“Why what?” Zeke pressed. “Why doesn't she want to see you?” His voice was getting colder and colder with each word. They twisted into an almost malevolent sneer.

“Why invite me here?” Levi asked, his voice clipped. Grappling with both Zeke’s attitude and the revelation on Hange’s feeling, Levi was finding it harder to speak.

“So you came because you were invited then?” Zeke took another sip. “And how were you invited?”

Does he expose Hange? And maybe Levi had taken too long vacillating.

Zeke had ended up answering the question himself. “An email? A support ticket with a flyer? Spam mail?” He took another sip. “You and your company have your very techy love alarm. And I have my own version too, my very old fashioned love alarm.” He gestured in front of him, right at Levi. “And it’s ringing in front of me right now.”

It took a few more seconds for Levi to understand it.

Zeke was either impatient. Or probably he thought Levi was a total idiot. He bent forward, leaned his elbows on his knees and dropped his wine glass on the wooden table with a loud clack.“Tell me, why would you go all the way here, over a fake email?” he asked. “Her name really was enough for you to book a plane ticket and fly across the ocean?”

Levi didn’t respond.

And it looked like Zeke didn’t need an answer anyway. He waved one hand in front of him and rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve been in the corporate world long enough to know, there are meetings that could have been emails yet you still chose to take a plane and come here.”

“Do you want me to write an email?” Levi asked.

Zeke shrugged. We don’t need your input. This project...it’s mine and Hange’s.”

Yours and Hange’s? He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, as if that slow and subtle movement had been enough to quell the fire in his chest. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s our project. It’s my gift to Hange.”

What does that make me? Levi didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t even want that instinctive jaw drop, the twitch in his mouth that followed to expose what the hell he was thinking.

“You’re merely someone paid to do the work.” Zeke continued, as if he had heard Levi's silent question.

Levi didn’t even feel it. He wasn’t even completely aware it happened until Zeke’s eyes widened for a split second in surprise, then narrowed again, shifting instead to one could have been pure fury.

But Levi didn’t care. Even when looking down had revealed, he spilled wine all over the lush carpet. The wine glass had hit the table, scattering pieces of broken glass on the table and over the floor.

It would be a bitch to clean up. Levi didn’t care about that either, it wasn’t his mess. It wasn’t his fucking presidential suite.

Zeke just had more practice in the diplomacy department. “Why do you feel it necessary to stand up and cause such a ruckus?”

The calmness had Levi’s blood boiling more violently inside him. He could only be grateful that the breaking the wine glass had released some of that pent up energy.

Zeke was only making it harder and harder to stay still. “I’m only stating facts. The money I put into it makes it mine. The fact that you’re being paid to do it. The fact that you even signed an employment contract relinquishes all ownership you have of all the projects you do in the company. You of all people should know that. I can’t even believe I need to school someone like you on this. You can’t even keep yourself together.”

Levi looked away, back at the view of the balcony, the glowing city. How much of it was owned by people who knew nothing about construction, architecture or just the hard work that went into even making such a view possible? A tiny injustice that surfaced in Levi’s mind as he let Zeke’s words sink in. “With all due respect... ” His last few words came out softer than expected. But Levi had seemed almost confident with them. “...You know jackshit about coding or psychology.”

Soon, Levi gripped enough of that new found confidence to take control of the conversation. “You know nothing about how any of that shit works. You didn’t stay up all night working on that damn application. I’ll fucking bet my whole life savings you don’t even know how this application works.”

“Ackerman, watch your mouth!” It was Yelena who spoke, looking as if she had just recovered from shock, eyes wide, her own wine glass on the table.

Levi cleared his throat. “Once again, with all due respect.” He was mildly aware then, that he may have raised his voice. Zeke was surprisingly—almost admirably calm. He put one hand as if to stop Yelena and spoke up. “And does ‘knowing jackshit’ make me less of an owner?”

That was a question that Levi couldn’t answer. He regretted losing control. In shock, or in some punishment which only the inner workings of his mind understood, Levi could only stand still, unable to even sit back down.

Zeke stared at him accusingly. “Mr. Ackerman…” he started. “You don’t believe there’s any dignity in the labor of moving money around? Investing and reinvesting?”

Levi felt shame wash over him.

It was a strange state to be in. There was more than enough dignity in being a billionaire, in being one of the top one percent who just bought and sold whatever they got their hands on. It was an inarguable fact that society thought highly of the top one percent regardless of where they got their money. Yet Zeke had a way of speaking that made Levi reflect the validity of his own words, any disrespect or any backhanded insult he could have been sending to anyone else.

Levi knew he was being manipulated but he couldn’t seem to point out how.

Maybe it had been the way Zeke had opened his eyes, his face a mix of confusion, hurt, with a hint of derision. Or maybe everything had been Levi’s imagination and once again he was faced with the prospect that maybe he didn’t mean it.

“That…” That wasn’t what I meant.

At that point, Zeke had stood up and at that difference of height and difference of social status, Levi had to bite his tongue, not to lose his composure.

Zeke though seemed to know he had taken control of the conversation. “You’re trying to cover your ass?”

“Cover… my ass?” Levi said that last word with a little more venom in his mouth. Somehow, the eloquent Zeke suddenly putting so much force into one single curse only added to the tension of that moment.

“Trying to justify your own mistakes by emphasizing your own superiority. It’s a very common tactic. You’re not the first to employ it.”

“I never---”

“You should be thanking me. I’ve been treating you fairly, paying you for your hard work. And on top of that, I’ve tolerated the transgressions, even putting more money unnecessarily into covering this up.” Zeke said. He walked towards the kitchen island, pulling an envelope from next to the telephone and slamming it on the counter. He wasn’t motioning though for Levi to come.

Levi preferred to stay frozen, just standing between the sofa and the coffee table. But when Zeke opened the envelope, pulling out pictures, and a few pages which he waved on the air and slammed on the table, Levi’s curiosity peaked.

Levi covered the distance in so short an amount of time, he never figured out if he seemed too desperate.

In hindsight, it wasn’t important. The contents of the papers, the pictures bundled together by paper clips had only been a more pressing matter.

Zeke’s words only confirmed it. “You went on a road trip up north on Hange’s birthday?”

“We did,” Levi said. There wasn’t much else he could have said to deny it. The evidence was too overwhelming— blurred pictures, screenshots of comments online in threads, subthreads, all speculating Hange’s side relationship.

“No use denying it. Yelena made a call to our employees in our estate up north. They mentioned Hange’s companion when she visited.”

“But we didn’t do anything…”

Zeke raised one eyebrow as if he had caught them in the act. “I’m not accusing you of it. But what would you say in your defense? When the Love Alarm rings, when you book a double room in a motel and when you’re together, almost inseparable in all of these pictures,” Zeke spread the photos on the table, shots of them in the motel, in the train station, in Zeke's house. “Hange isn’t a high profile person. It never made the news, Yelena and I made sure of that but people talk, anyone familiar with the tech world and particularly interested in it, would know how our family looks like."

It was funny, how anger could so easily sour to shame. At that moment, Levi considered disappearing an almost welcome development. Zeke pushed the pictures nearer to him, in one messy pile, the screenshots on comments, mentioning words like ‘misters,’ ‘paramours,’ ‘who’s the man???’ “We purged the internet of all photos, no names. Some people repost but I have people watching and reporting. This isn’t cheap.”

I’m sorry. Levi’s first instinct was to apologize, the adamance of a while ago almost completely forgotten. But sorry’s wouldn't work. “How much? I’ll pay what I can.”

Zeke scoffed. “Can you?”

Levi couldn’t think up much to say. He scanned his eyes over the comments at first to feign business, an excuse not to speak up. The more he looked, the more engrossed he got at lines of comments. Others towards him, then as he turned the pages, they were all towards Hange.

Slut. Whore. Low life. Cheater.

“I’ll pay what I can,” Levi said.

“How much are you willing to shell out? A hundred grand?”

That was a huge chunk of Levi’s annual earnings already. He wasn’t one to disclose salary though. He kept his mouth a thin flat line and nodded.

Zeke shook his head. “I’ll be generous, considering all the inconvenience you’ve caused both of us. While you're here, humor me,” he said. “I may not be a coder or a psychologist but I’m sure, there are things I can teach you. If you’re willing to shell out a hundred grand, let’s gamble with it. I haven’t had a good game in a while.”

“A good game?”

Zeke turned to Yelena. “Can you be a dealer again?”

“You plan on playing heads up?” Yelena asked,

“We have a table in one of the private rooms, why not?”

“Heads-up poker?” Levi clarified. There was only one game heads up that the two could have been referring to, mentioning terms like ‘deal.’

Zeke didn’t even bother to answer the question either for lack of consideration for Levi or just an expectation that Levi may have understood.

Levi didn’t live under a rock and he was very much familiar with the game. He had played a few games on online poker sites back in college.

Still, he moved a little sluggishly behind his two companions. Levi could have just been a little too wary or Zeke could have been out for blood.

The stakes then and there were completely different. For one, he had never bet almost a year’s worth of his own salary on a single game. He had never played with anyone whose net worth was a thousand, or maybe even a million times his own.

At that moment, Levi felt like a total beginner and it was as if hesitation clipped every single moment he managed to pull out of himself. There wasn’t too much he was expected to do but watch as Yelena prepared a few playing cards then chips.

Zeke made himself comfortable right in front of Levi. “Willing to bet a hundred grand?” he said those last words with an ominous smile on his face.

Levi sensed danger, but he couldn’t sense any proper way out either. He owed Zeke, he knew that much, whether it be for the money or the utter disrespect he had been treating him with since a while ago. Maybe he owed Zeke for more than that, for any inconvenience Zeke may have experienced at Levi having gotten a little too close to Hange.

Levi admitted, even just to himself, he had been a little too close to Hange for either of them to have been comfortable. Guilt, a sense of duty or just hyper awareness of everything all at once had Levi conceding, “Do I pay now?”

“We play with chips first,” Zeke responded.

Yelena dropped colored stacks of chips in front of them. Levi counted reds, blues, yellows, browns.

“You should have a hundred thousand worth,” Yelena said. “Do you know the colors?”

“Yes, just a bit.” Dabbling into online poker for a few months at least, Levi had enough experience to tell the browns as five thousands, the light blues as two thousand and the rest had inferred for himself from the amount of chips in front of him. He looked up to see that Zeke had a noticeably larger stack. “That looks like a lot more than a hundred grand,” Levi noted.

Zeke didn’t answer immediately and the flicker of realization came quicker, quick enough to have Levi coughing in surprise. The odds were against him.

“It is,” Zeke said as he counted his own chips, as if it wasn’t plain and utter cheating or even deception that he had a glaringly higher amount of chips than Levi. He slipped the chips towards the side and looked questioningly at Levi.

What had Hange told him back then in the golf course?

Zeke likes winning...But the way he goes about winning is like...He’s always been smart about it, always playing safe.

And what a better way to play safe than to have a larger pile than your opponent.

Zeke spoke up. “Hange and I, we’d play games with business partners while talking contracts and logistics. And Hange always said this about games. They teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… And the more I played with Hange, whether it be mahjong, blackjack, golf, or chess, I started to notice something. Games are a mirror of life, almost a clear reflection of what you deal with in business and in relationships.”

Zeke paused for a second and closed his eyes as if deep in thought. The room filled with the sound of shuffling of cards, the sound of the clack of chips as Zeke ran his hand over the brown ones, tapping them over the wooden round table in stilted and deafening movements.

“Poker is one of my favorite games. Like business, you base your decision on three things… Tells, numbers and circumstances,” He paused for a few seconds longer and he could have been expecting Levi to speak.

Levi didn’t look up though, instead using the brief silence to make sense for himself the amount of chips on his side.

Zeke spoke again. “Yelena, shuffle up and deal. We’re playing heads up. Our small blind is five hundred dollars and our big blind is one thousand dollars,” he said coldly. “I hope that isn’t too much money.”

In truth, that was enough money to make Levi’s stomach turn. Zeke’s manner didn’t look like it welcomed any protest though, so Levi merely nodded as some weak reply.

A weak nod could have sufficed as a response. Zeke turned to Yelena. “Give our valued guest the dealer button.”

The dealer plays the small blind. Levi counted five hundred dollars worth of chips and pushed it in front of Zeke.

Two cards lay in front of him, care of Yelena. Levi had played before and he was familiar at least with what a good hand would have looked like. In one swift movement, he held the cards in front of him.

Ten of Clubs and Nine of Clubs. With just one look, he knew he could complete either a flush or a straight.

If the board plays to his advantage.

Zeke tutted. “It’s not considered good practice to lift the cards. Most poker players would just raise the corner just high enough to see their own cards.” He demonstrated that exact same movement, only raising high enough that he could get the contents cards with one glance. “You’ve never played on the board?”

“I’ve played for a few months online,” Levi muttered. He would look back at that experience with little animosity. After all, a few months dabbling with bets online and just applying what little he learned from his statistics class had seemed like an overall enriching experience at first. Then and there, on the board, with thousands of dollars at stake, Levi felt utterly vulnerable. Like a beginner. Maybe, in the grand scheme of things, someone with only months worth of casual experience was a beginner.

And Zeke held a glaring advantage, something Levi couldn’t so easily brush away. Levi’s own instinct, his own experience with odds had him considering raising. Just for a second. When Zeke was staring at him though, his own pile much bigger than Levi, Levi could only weigh between two decisions, fold and give up that hand or match Zeke’s bet.

It’s still a good hand anyway. “Call,” Levi said, matching Zeke’s bet.

By the way that Zeke was looking at him though, Levi knew he was probably not playing on the board properly. Zeke spoke up. “Tells. One important concept in both poker and business is tells,” he explained. “The way you carry yourself tells me you never played on the board. Am I correct?”

“Yes.” There was no use denying it but Levi didn't have to spare him a long answer.

Zeke dropped five purple chips on the table. “Raise to 2500.”

There was value in those chips, his lifestyle, his savings. And for a split second, he saw an abyss. He had spent too much on a flight ticket, a hotel room, just all the food he had been eating in that town. Then another year's worth of income on stake, reduced to chips.

By some strange instinct, by some adrenaline rush, Levi had managed to brush it away, reducing whatever stakes to the few chips on the board. And he was grateful for the power of delusion. By god, if he didn’t have at least a sliver of self-delusion, he could have folded right then.

“Call,” Levi said, once again matching Zeke’s bet. He needed to calm down. It wasn’t a loss yet, the game hadn’t even started.

There was hope in whatever cards Yelena was shuffling. She spread the first three on the table.

“We call that a flop,” Zeke said. “Just in case you didn’t know.” And of course Levi knew, he had played online long enough to pick up some terms. With the grin on Zeke’s face, a far cry from a face more appropriate for a game of poker, Levi was certain Zeke was provoking him. “I know what a flop is,” Levi said, running his eyes over the three cards.

Ace of clubs. Seven of Clubs. Eight of Hearts.

Levi started to calculate. He had 2500 dollars, a months worth of basic living expenses on the line. He wondered if it would have felt better just dropping the one hundred grand to Zeke from the start. There was something notably more painful and more terrifying about the possibility of watching his money whittle away slowly.

“During business meetings, I like to tell which topics, which specific products make my business partners uncomfortable, when dealing with stakeholders, with employees. I like to take a few quick guesses on the backgrounds of the people in front of me, to see whether they’re worth dealing with in the long term. ” Zeke explained. “How they handle pressure…”

Was that a threat? A challenge? Maybe it was. Levi was suddenly morbidly aware that he had licked his lips, that his hand shook as he took another peek at his cards.

He had a chance for a straight. But what would Zeke have? And Levi had made the mistake of looking at Zeke then.

“Another ‘tell’, your eyes widened just there. You have a pair? A potential straight? For someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, Hange does a much better time hiding than you do.” Zeke had deliberately put more emphasis on the word Hange.

If Levi hadn’t frozen solid, tensed up by the shoulders with Zeke’s almost accurate guess, the word Hange had done the trick to make Levi terribly, terribly self conscious. In an instinctive moment, Levi bent his head down, raised one hand in an attempt to cover his own eyes, only to realize a second later with his hand halfway to his eyes, that that had done worse to even show that he had something to hide.

“You don’t have to hide it. We all know already, you’re in love with Hange.”

Levi had accepted that part already. If he had been in complete denial at that moment, maybe he would have lost himself in Zeke’s accusing glare.

“Are you going to deny it?” Zeke dropped an alarming number of yellow and purple chips. “Raise to four thousand.”

Levi let out a sound, a combination between a no and a quiet huff and he matched Zeke’s bet.

“A month ago I heard from the staff in our summer house up north mentioning the man, who always followed closely behind Hange, the man who so willingly got a single bed hotel with her, the man in the train station who sat close to Hange Zoe,” Zeke said. “People talk, Levi. Did you consider that? And I thought to myself back then, maybe, it could have been a coincidence but Hange had her own tells as well. When Hange saved you from drowning, did you know she didn’t want to let go?”

Yelena put one more card down. Two of diamonds.

“This is a convenient turn card ,” Zeke commented. “If you have a nine, or a ten, you have a chance at a straight. Have you calculated?” He raised one eyebrow.

Levi didn’t answer. Hell, anything he did say could probably be taken against him.

“Hange would have. When we played, she would babble on about statistics. Everytime she held out a hand, completely beating me, she would babble all the calculations in her head. She has always been quick witted, intelligent, clever. That’s why I fell in love with her too.” He had said that part louder, more confidently and so matter-of-factly, and Levi was reminded he would never have that same confidence to say those words about Hange, even if he would have meant it.

There was a clack of poker chips. Four thousand dollars? Levi counted. He looked towards the pile next to Yelena. He had four thousand dollars there already. A total of eight thousand dollars on the table, months worth of rent for most.

From the expectant look on Zeke’s face, Levi was expecting he’d only go higher. Do I fold? But maybe with the excruciating mentions of Hange, that was something Zeke had wanted him to do. In a sliver of weak protest, Levi matched the bet, his own bet up to eight thousand dollars.

He needed a jack or a six for a straight. But why was Zeke easily dropping bets? Did he have something better?

“Let’s consider numbers in real life. Even with how you and Hange were acting, I thought I could give you the benefit of the doubt. When the alarm rang, when you and Hange accepted it as truth, I realized my suspicions might be right. Hange might actually be attracted to you, she might actually love you. So what does that mean for me?” Zeke was once again playing with his chips.

Five thousand dollars worth? Levi thought loudly to himself as he counted the chips.

A bluff? Levi’s mind was racing. Zeke’s own words were deliberately or even just half heartedly disturbing. But there wasn’t much else he could do, four thousand dollars were on the line. Zeke proved to be confident at least with his own hand.

Bluffs happened, Levi played enough to be aware that people did put more than enough money than necessary just to scare people into folding. Another surge of protest later, Levi had matched the bet, putting his total bet at eleven grand.

The final card on the board was a jack and Levi didn’t have to look back at his own cards to confirm it. He had a straight. When Zeke had bet ten grand in chips, it had been much easier to call.

Soon the cards were revealed, an Ace and a King. Zeke had the strongest pair.

But Levi had a straight. He took the pot, more than a total of twenty thousand dollars, more than enough to offset his whole trip. When Levi looked up at Zeke, he regretted it almost instantly.

The latter didn’t seem at all affected by losing over twenty thousand dollars. “Circumstances, the most powerful tool but the easiest to control with the right resources. ” Zeke said, as if that had been the explanation for his own strange behavior. “It’s only natural when the person I’m married to starts running off with another man, I’d feel threatened. When she started working on the love alarm and I noticed she was happier, happier than I’ve ever seen her before. Then she was crankier than I’ve ever seen her before, then sadder. I wondered, what was our head developer doing to make Hange like that.”

Nothing. Fall in love with her? There weren’t too many things which could have fit what was starting to seem like a redundant question, so once again, silence was the best response.

Yelena spread the deck of cards over the table and Levi instead focused on dropping the new blind and appreciating the deft manner at which Yelena ran her hands over the cards.

He wasn’t in any state to be mesmerized by cards though.

Zeke’s voice echoed in the room. “Levi, I asked you a question.”

“What did I do, you mean?” Levi asked. That was the last thing he remembered and it had seemed almost redundant, not worth an explanation. Zeke shook his head. “Do you think she’s in love with you?” A strange question to ask someone, too personal. Zeke had a way of speaking that demanded answers.

Levi’s mind was working faster, vacillating between answering or not. He thought back to the ringing of the love alarm, Hange’s words up in the tower. Hange seemed happier, then crankier, then sadder, than I’ve ever seen before. “That’s for Hange to decide, right?” Levi said.

Zeke’s voice was suddenly softer as if they had released a sigh with his words. “Considering circumstances though, I was assured Hange can’t just leave.”

That last word had peaked Levi’s interest. “Leave?” He repeated.

“Even if your love alarm is correct, even if by some chance she loved you, and she didn’t love me, Hange can’t leave. I made sure of that. I’ve covered my bases.”

Covered your bases? Levi bent his head down, hiding that incredulous look that forced itself out of him.

“I paid for her research. I paid for the emotion alarm. I paid for the media embargo so your photos wouldn’t get printed. I paid for everything, our home, our trips. Hange can’t just leave, after I put so much into this relationship right?”

Yelena dealt a new set of his cards and Levi pulled his new cards towards him and took a peak.

Eight of hearts. Three of hearts. Shitty hand with a potential for a flush.

Zeke slipped the new cards towards him. “She’s not going to leave. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, why are you still hurting yourself over this. Why don’t you give up?”

“There’s nothing to give up. I wasn’t holding on to anything.” Those words had been surprisingly easy to say. “Hange married you. I went here to talk to her, nothing more than that.”

“You could have sent an email. You could have sent it through Erwin. Why come here yourself?” Zeke’s words were suddenly ringing through his ear.

“Why are you so bothered by me showing up? You didn’t have to invite me here,” Levi said, and somehow, a cathartic release that came with those words.

The shocked almost speechless expression on Zeke’s face, a far cry from the calm, poker face of a second ago, sent a rush of confidence over Levi

Maybe there were things he knew about Hange that Zeke didn’t. Levi continued “I don’t understand why you had to go through all this trouble, covering the embargo, sending Hange away, buying the emotion alarm. Even if you didn’t cover your bases, even if you give Hange all of that, she wouldn’t have left you. She really believes she’s in love with you.” She’s a prideful prick that way. He added silently to himself.

“What do you know about Hange? You only met her months ago.”

Long enough to feel like I’ve known her my whole life. If his words could have at least been enough to ensure some happiness for Hange in the future, it was worth a shot. “You should have just trusted her. You take in the most free-loving person I have ever met as your partner and you trap her by hanging all that over her head? That’s not how to love someone like Hange.”

“Who are you to tell me how to love the person I’m married to?”

This time, it was Levi’s turn to ask a question. “Do you love Hange?”

“More than you’re capable of understanding,” Zeke answered venomously, as if it was an attack on Levi.

Somehow, of all the things, an attack on his own ignorance didn’t feel like anything at all. Levi was confident, he wasn’t ignorant. “Hange really believes love is a choice, love is freedom. And you think the best way to love her is to tie her down with money and gifts? With circumstance?”

“You can’t assume that.”

“Then why do you have to make her feel guilty? Why do you give her everything just so she won’t leave? Why are you assuming she’ll leave the moment she gets the chance?”

One hand on the table, and the table rocked, the pile of chips Levi had meticulously organized fell in one crash, the few others as they slid amongst each other, colors mixing amongst one another.

Yelena was the first to speak. “Focus on the game, Ackerman.”

“Check.” He didn't have the best hand. As the river opened up to reveal a potential for a flush, he still thought it worth a shot.

Zeke pushed a huge pile of chips to the front. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.” Almost all of Levi’s available funds.”

“Fold,” Levi said.

The button switched. Levi and Zeke dealt their blinds again. Yelena dealt another two cards. And the game continued.

Carefully raising the corners of his pair, Levi noted a three of spades and a queen of hearts. Even before Yelena had dealt the river on the table, Zeke had already pushed his pile to the middle. “Raise to a hundred thousand dollars.”

Levi couldn’t win, and just like the hand before, he folded.

It continued with that same pattern for the next ten hands. Zeke started to bait him, going all in towards the fourth hand, enough for Levi to lose all his savings, and Levi would fold. Hands later, Levi had lost the winnings of the first hand, he had absorbed a net loss. Zeke’s large pile was starting to seem more ominous.

Circumstances. The word started to hold more gravity as Levi reflected the unfairness of it all. Zeke wouldn't have minded putting one year’s worth of Levi’s salary in a single round, he had more than enough to spare.

You can’t win against money. What the hell was he thinking, giving up his blinds every single time. Zeke obviously bluffed a few times. No one would be lucky enough to have a streak of good hands.

But which hand? Levi thought loudly to himself, as if by some miracle, a god-sent answer could echo in his head.

“We can do this all night,” Zeke said, his composure once again collected, the exchange of a while ago forgotten.

Levi lost track of the number of hands. A quick look at his chips only made him realize he had forty thousand dollars left. Did he lose that much by just folding?

He would lose a hundred dollars that night if he continued playing but when he willed it, he realized was ready to lose that money. But the more Zeke played, the more he spammed all ins, the more urgent the loss started to seem.

It took a few more handsfor Levi to gather the courage to play, even with the stakes completely against him. Levi spared some thought to calculation, taking from Zeke’s rulebook.

Tells.

Zeke wore a poker face...Nothing there.

Circumstances

He had to do something fast, or risk losing all his money.

Numbers

Most importantly, statistics were on his side. He had opened his new hand to find a pair of aces.

Ace of Clubs. Ace of Spades. Statistically, the best poker hand. He could easily win everything back.

Then came the first three cards.

Ace of Diamonds. Queen of Diamond. Nine of Clubs.

“Raise to ten thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

Three of a kind, with the strongest cards. “Call,” Levi responded.

The next card was dealt. Ten of diamonds.

“Bet twenty thousand dollars,” Zeke said.

“Call,” Levi said again, pushing his pile of chips to the middle of the world. He couldn’t be too sure how he looked then. Were his hands shaking? It wasn’t a graceful movement for sure. He had to push his pile to the middle with three clumsy movements while Zeke did it in one elegant push.

But Levi noted the subtle way at which Zeke raised his eyebrows before they met eyes. And for one second, Levi allowed himself a long stare, a slight movement of his lips, nothing close to a smile. If that one expression would be enough for Zeke to fold and give up everything, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t.

Yelena dropped the last card on the board. An Ace of hearts.

“Raise to one hundred thousand dollars,” Zeke said, notably louder than every other time before.

Enough to make Levi jump, enough for him to doubt. He snuck another look at his cards. Four of a kind. You’re fine. Why was his heart still beating wildly? Why was meeting Zeke’s eyes for a while longer such a harrowing experience?

It’s a poker face. People do this when they play poker. Levi told himself and the longer he was able to convince himself that Zeke knew what he was doing. And maybe it had always been good practice to stay calm, even when everything was stacked against you.

“Showdown,” Yelena said.

Or maybe Zeke just wasn't that connected, especially since nothing much was at stake for him.

It could have been all those guesses, or it could have been the ugly one that opened up in front of them right then and there.

And it looked like Zeke had figured it out first. “Have you heard of the term bad beat?”

Levi was taking longer than usual to make sense of the cards, much slower than usual and maybe it had been the exhaustion of calculating the past almost countless hands.

“There is roughly a four thousand to one chance of getting a four of a kind. But sometimes, people have something better than that… Not often but… It’s still worth considering.”

Something better. And when Levi was considering every hand better than a four of a kind, it became much easier to scan the river then Zeke’s hand for the answer.

Zeke had two cards: King of Diamonds and Jack of Diamonds. A Royal Flush.

“There’s a six hundred thousand to one chance of actually getting a royal flush. First one in my life.” Zeke could have been genuinely amazed, but that big ham reaction had been more than enough to piss Levi off.

It made it difficult to sit still.

“When you consider circumstances, you introspect, you strategize and you pray for a little luck,” Zeke said. “Believe me, you had every other chance to win before. I went all in with the worst cards and you folded every single time. Are you that terrified of losing a few thousand dollars?”

Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Levi corrected in his head. An annual salary’s worth. And maybe that was the point Zeke had wanted to make. By circumstances alone, Zeke had manipulated Levi's choice.

Zeke smirked. “Circumstances rely on luck too and luck is a funny thing. Even if you play everything correctly, you can still lose. Life’s unfair isn��t it.”

“You had less to lose than I did,” Levi said, his lip trembling. “That’s all there is to it. If you lost all the money, you would have put more in.”

“I would have,” Zeke admitted.

“I was playing a losing game.”

“At least you got the lesson. These are your circumstances. Every life lesson everyone should have learned from birth, life isn’t fair. I’m surprised you’re expecting that from a casual game.”

“I never said that. I knew I was playing a losing game and I expected that.” It had taken all his effort to keep his reaction unreadable, and god he wished he had managed it every other time before. “Thank you for the food. Thank you for the game. Thank you for covering for me and Hange.”

With the game over, it didn't look like he felt compelled to wipe that smug grin off his face. And there were things Levi wished he could tell Zeke, and maybe it was worth the risk. “One last thing, I don’t agree with you about relationships, businesses being like games. Loving isn’t a game. When you give all this money to Hange do you expect her to give back? You expect to be able to manipulate relationships through circumstance alone?"

“I told you Ackerman, don’t tell me how to love my partner.”

"I don't have enough fucks to give for every single person in this world. I’m not telling you how to love the person you married because I actually give a fuck about your love life. I’m only telling you how to love your partner because your partner just so happens to be Hange and Hange’s a free bird. She doesn't deserve at all to be loved like that. Don't cage her in with circumstances. Don’t tie her down with money, with a debt of gratitude.” He pushed his seat back and walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“I need some fresh air.”

The sliding door wasn’t locked. He forced it open gently then too hard, enough to make it rattle, He gave one was long look at the infinity pool then leaned his arms on the balcony railings. He took a deep breath.

And that reprieve was just a little too short. It turned out Yelena followed behind him, a piece of paper in hand. “Zeke’s bank details,” she said.

That had seemed too abrupt. But really, what was he supposed to expect, a consolation prize? Hange’s location?

“It would be much easier if you paid immediately,” Yelena said. “Do you have the money on hand?”

He didn’t have the credit rating to pay that in one go. He opened his own banking application and attempted to transfer that much in one go.

Bank error.

“We accept checks,” Yelena said.

Levi had never dealt with checks. His credit card limit was far less than how much he needed to pay. And a few exchanges later, a quick google search later, Levi had figured it out. He could pay by wire transfer but by god, and just the wire transfer would cost him more money than necessary.

Levi was a man of principle though. Slip of paper on hand, Yelena’s contact details on his phone he made his way out of Zeke’s presidential, without even bothering so much as a goodbye. It looked like Zeke had retired to his own private room or study anyway. Did he need that pleasantry from Levi of all people?

On the way back to his own hotel, he took a long cut, through the hotels that connected to one another through glass pathways, a few floors above ground. He made sure to take a longer time than usual, enough time to reflect on his own shitty luck.

A fruitless reflection with a very very repetitive and depressing conclusion. That’s just how life is?

If it hadn't been for those two who had talked a little too loudly by the side, maybe Levi would have deemed it fruitless.

If didn’t look to his right to see the entrance to the casino, if he didn’t walk quickly past the slot machines, taking in the red plush carpet, he would have said it was a total waste of time. The dim room only further accentuated the lights that never seemed to come from an exact same place. The casino had a way of just letting some strange feverish state, some illusion blanket his surroundings.

Hange Zoe. The man at the front had said her name, too proudly, as if in total amazement. For a while, the dazzling casino lights had him doubting that name clipped into one brief exchange. Others seemed to be talking about her too. Then he was following the crowd.

Murmurs of Hange Zoe, none of them demeaning or admonishing. Others seemed breathless, and Levi thought it worth his time, to tiptoe just to see a good look of what they were staring at.

Fruitless.

Levi dove into the crowd, slipping his way through, bending over, moving his hand through when necessary. He never made it to the front, but he did note the messy mop of brown hair, tied into a high ponytail, bent over the table. The autumn jacket, the side profile and the glimmer of some tight lips.

Hange was deep in thought in the middle of what looked to be some poker game. Her own pile of poker chips right next to her, much larger than everyone elses. He knew her enough to make that type of guess.

Circumstances.

Levi decided it would be a waste of time. Circumstances were never his to control anyway. They were Zeke’s, they were hers.

Hange Zoe’s win again.

How many hands had she played before that?

She’s cheating.

No, she’s just lucky.

I heard she calculates every single hand.

Levi felt some sense of superiority, knowing something the murmuring crowds didn’t.

All summarized into three things. Firstly, lady luck was probably on her side, it had always been as if making up a string of misfortunes in a previous life. Secondly, she probably calculated every single hand. Third, Hange would never ever cheat.

And those would be last few thing he would allow himself be proud of. That would be the last time he would think of Hange as someone remotely his.

As Levi turned the heel and walked back to his hotel, he decided, although it wasn’t too fruitless a detour, he still regretted making that quick trip into the casino.

***

If Levi knew he would have felt like shit as soon as he came back from vacation, maybe he never would have gone on that stupid vacation in the first place.

Monday. Monday morning. Those words managed to taste bitter, even when Levi was barely forcing it out of his mouth. It could have been the fact that he barely had time to get over the jet lag or it was just way too early in the morning. Scratch that, it wasn't any of that at all.

Zeke was sitting on the couch, seeming very much unaffected by what should have been transoceanic jet lag and very much unaffected by the words that came out of Erwins house just a second ago.

At first, Levi even doubted what I heard, attributing it to exhaustion. He turned back to Zeke, no sadistic grin, no furrowed brows. He was calm, unimpressed and all business.

"Sorry… it's too early in the morning… I don't think I heard you correctly,” Levi said, an attempt at professionalism even with the trappings of shock, disbelief and very inconvenient drowsiness.

“We don’t usually invite lower management to these types of meetings… But Mr. Jaeger requested you be here, to answer any questions that might pop up...” Erwin said apologetically.

“No. Not that… You mentioned it a while ago...Why is Mr. Jaeger here?”

"We’re making amendments to the contract," Erwin answered.

“And why do you need me here?”

“He’s here to buy the love alarm,” Erwin said so casually that Levi had to clear his throat, get rid of whatever popping sensation had been going on in his ears.

My love alarm. The love alarm he worked more than half a decade on. The love alarm which he knew like the back of his hand, from the backbone of the codes to the front end bugs.

"It's for sale?" Levi spat out. There were only so many ways he could speak and so many ways he could even articulate the emotions running through his head.

Erwin cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortable at such a simple question. "Initially no… we never considered selling it but when Zeke called about it last week, we thought it worth a conversation.” He turned to Zeke then back to Levi. “We were able to run through Zeke’s proposal with the higher ups last Friday, and given the generous proposal, we are more than willing to sell him the rights to the Love Alarm and the Emotions Alarm project.”

How much did he offer? Levi instinctively looked towards Zeke but he soon figured out that no matter what he said, Zeke probably would never disclose the final price. In some vague response, Zeke pulled the brown envelope on the table closer to himself. "Everything has a price,” he said matter-of-factly.

Erwin spoke up. "I did the calculations as soon as I received your call last Thursday and it looks like it would be more than enough to cover what potential earnings we expected within the next two years and more than enough for the development of another project.

Last Thursday night. The night they had met in Zeke’s penthouse suite. Was buying the love alarm an impulse decision on Zeke’s part? The timing just seemed too right.

And they only continued to talk about it, as if Levi wasn’t there. What did an engineer know about business though or about purchases as high volume as the rights to the love alarm?

For something that had taken countless all nighters over time and years of development, the process of selling it just seemed too easy. “Mr. Jaeger, if I may ask, what made you consider buying the love alarm?” Levi asked.

“Hange’s research,” Zeke said, as if it was the most obvious and the most noble reason in the world.

“And when you buy it, what then?” Levi challenged.

“I’ll work with Hange. We’ll hire new developers to fix the bugs you never fixed. We’ll further improve the product and the code and we’ll break the product down, see what else we can use to improve the emotions alarm project.” The answer was disappointing, a far cry from what Levi wanted to hear.

Your other plans with Hange. He had opened his mouth, ready to expound on the question.

Erwin though may have sensed the thick tension between them. "You have the contract?"

Zeke nodded. "I had our lawyer work on it over the weekend, a rush job. You can run through it with the higher ups and I'll have someone pick up a signed copy by this week"

"Believe me, we’re decided, you can even pick it up tomorrow," Erwin said as he opened the envelope, pulled out papers and flipped through the pages. For a second, he dropped the paperwork on the table then onto the page where the executives were expected to sign.

All familiar names from the big wigs all the way, down to Erwin. Levi's name wasn't there at all. Figures, Levi after all, was merely an engineer. He couldn't help but sense irony though in the fact that the one who knew the most about the product had no say in its actual fate.

Erwin's words only made the irony seem more glaring. “We'll use the next two weeks to do some clean up on our end, pack up the resources and work on data migration.”

By ‘we’, Levi knew Erwin would be ordering him to do that.. He couldn’t help but feel slightly cheated though. He would be basically ordered to take apart something he built from scratch, send it off and never see it again. And the longer he stared at the contract that would be ordering all that, the more desolate the air around him seemed to feel.

The product he had worked on for years, taking apart every now and then, breaking and putting back together to find even the smallest bugs, going on countless hours of overtime over, was like a child to him, a child he was unwillingly sending it away to some known.

Some masochistic part of him had him still staring at the contract, long enough still to remember his first contract when he first signed into the company, something that stayed snug into the back of his mind, unexpectedly kicking his arse then.

Ownership of Intellectual Property. Employee agrees that the Company shall own, and Employee shall (and hereby does) assign, all right, title and interest...

Everyone in the room seemed to have too much regard anyway for pleasantries anyway and never felt the need to clarify it. Levi had to rely on his own memory of Zeke saying it just a few days ago in his hotel room.

The company pays you. Any effort, ideas, projects you put into our product is company property.

And Zeke will be buying it so it will be his property.

Whether Zeke even knew how the alarm worked didn’t seem to matter to him though.“So, I guess in a matter two weeks, all server data and resources should be with Jaeger corporation.”

Erwin nodded. “We’d be happy to expedite the process. If all goes well, yes.”

When a huge sum of money was on the line, suddenly red tape was so easy to squeeze one’s way through. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay calm as they signed away the culmination of his own hard work, his countless hours of overtime, the blood, sweat and personal investment he put into that one application, all signed away in a brief second, all the red tape of a few weeks ago, non-existent.

Erwin turned to him, “If you can stay behind after the meeting, so we can discuss the logistics…”

Most days, Levi appreciated the manner at which Erwin spoke, the way he took some regard of Levi’s own time when giving orders. That day, there were too many things happening to even appreciate.

What else do you expect me to do? Say no? Hell, he had wanted to say no, but by the glaring lack of his own name on the contract, the glaring lack of regard for his own opinion on the matter, Levi could only seethe silently.

“Oh yeah,” Zeke snapped his fingers, loud enough to call Levi’s attention. “Hange sends her regards. She enjoyed working with your company a lot.” He turned to Levi and gave him a nod. “And to you too Ackerman, I just have to say we’re very grateful for your hard work and your generosity.”

What generosity? The implication that Levi had any say on commercial decisions seemed mocking.

“We’ll take good care of both applications,” Zeke continued. “And regards from Hange, she wishes you all the best with Petra.”

Petra. Levi let out a cough, letting out a subtle look at Erwin. If the latter did seem bothered, he didn’t show it.

With that, Zeke left the room, and Levi started to understand how someone could keep such a confident demeanor even with the slightest inconveniences. Somehow, having that many assets, wealth and power under one’s belt really had that paper.

The way he strode, embodied it, the way that in just a few phone calls, he had completely dismantled everything Levi had worked on, making it his own.

And when he closed the door gently behind him, leaving Levi and Erwin alone in the room, Levi was reminded once again, the love alarm, the emotion alarm, were never his, as much as he would have wanted to claim ownership.

They were never his, but suddenly they were Zeke’s. Levi turned to Erwin, narrowing his eyes, as he watched the blonde make his way to the desk. Erwin seemed uncomfortable as if he sensed the strange betrayal that something so standard as corporate procedure could bring. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up.

Two weeks. Levi was given two weeks to clean everything, migrate all data and vacate the office.

It was the company's project but it was Levi's responsibility. There was a broken partnership which somehow ended with two products sold. Yet even with all the damage dealt by that deal, the management needed some scapegoat from within the company.

Erwin had explained everything with as professional of a face as possible. With the tight lipped attempt at a grin that followed, the way he had avoided Levi’s eyes one too many times, Levi suspected Erwin knew more than he was letting on.

The photos maybe? The bug with Hange? The broken partnership? Of course someone would end up having to take the blame for giving Zeke a ‘bugged’ application.

Too many reasons, many among those rooted in some attempt to save face, in filthy office politics. And by then, Levi hadn’t been expecting too much.

That probably had been the reason that when Erwin looked back at him with a much softer expression, Levi couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, something to abate whatever emotion was threatening to let loose.

I didn’t think it was right for the mastermind behind the application to be terminated completely empty handed.

Erwin had arranged for some severance pay after the two weeks were over.

Enough to get out of the country, start somewhere else.

A job termination shouldn’t have been enough to be driven out of the country. Levi didn’t make too much sense of Erwin’s words until he had experienced it for himself a week later, through an empty email inbox after sending out the same resume to twenty companies for over thirty roles.

Have you heard of a no poach agreement? Erwin had asked back in the office.

A no poach agreement?

It’s technically illegal so this usually comes as a verbal agreement among companies. They’d note their best employees and if they have to let one go, all companies agree, they cannot hire them for a certain period of time, five to seven years. It's a 'scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' type of deal.

To keep company secrets apparently or to keep Levi from making a similar application in any other company.

If you want to continue working in the development industry, your best chance would be abroad.

Around one week left before his termination would become effective and Levi gave up on finding a development job in his city, hell even his country. Around that time he had started to clean up his studio apartment, throwing out whatever was needed.

He started looking through immigration laws, consulting when necessary. He looked through apartments in other cities, then labor laws. The severance pay was more than enough at least to get him out, and Erwin had been a big help in straightening other legalities out.

He had an extra few weeks to clean out his room, pack up his things, straighten out immigration issues and buy a damn ticket out of there.

In between, his final week at work. He had never considered leaving his job of over a decade to have ended such a long bittersweet moment. In reality, he never really had the time to appreciate normalcy and he felt some regret at that.

Migrating server data, resources, making sure everyone under him had straightened out their leaves, making sure they were assigned to new projects took time. Allowing himself reprieves in-between to just sit down, and stare at half filled boxes also took longer and more effort than he had expected it too.

He stared at the ever increasing boxes that lined his office walls for a while longer. Surprisingly, for someone so fastidious, he had a lot he needed to clean out, both inside the computer and outside.

You will lose all accesses, to emails, to chat accounts and to company property by end of day Friday. He got that same message, in different forms from human resources, from Erwin and Levi was on a strict time limit to get everything out.

In some protest, some act of empowering rebellion, Levi was taking his sweet time. He continued to reserve conference rooms, staying out of his own room as much as possible, going through each line of code slowly as if he they were all individuals all deserving of their own greeting.

He started with the backend, then went to the frontend. He looked through the pull requests and the merge requests and the fixes that would never make the next release.

And Friday couldn’t have come any faster. By then, Levi had ninety percent of his office space cleaned out. He entered the room to find his own team lugging out some of the boxes.

100 percent done then? Levi thought to himself.

Eld was the first one to speak up. “We thought you’d need some help. We heard you only had until five to vacate the room." Yet, he had the expression of a guilty child caught taking cookies from the cookie jar at midnight.

His whole team looked similar.

Levi shook his head. "No, this is much appreciated," he said. A stiff choice of words if he did say so himself but the last few hours of work weighed on him more heavily than the days leading up to it.

He only had two hours before he lost access to everything he had worked on for years.

He held his work laptop close to himself as he watched them lug box after box out of the room.

"Eld was suggesting we go get something to eat tonight," Gunther suggested.

"That depends…" Levi started. Definitely, whether he enjoyed it depended on how quickly he could brush off that weight then that tightening in his chest. "Have you talked to your new team leads? Your new managers?" he asked, an attempt at a light conversation. He wondered if his expression betrayed his words.

Maybe they did. "Or we could wait a few days," Eld said.

"We'll see. We have a few more hours before the end of day," Levi said. He slipped past them and walked back into his office.

Shelves empty, desk spotless and even the floor shone with some unsettling gleam. It had always been spotless, he made sure of it but there had always been something melancholic about rooms that had been full for years, suddenly empty.

And until a few weeks ago, the room had felt like Hange. He had deliberately left many of the crooked books on the shelf, the crooked documents, the titled reusable paper tray and the test devices messily lined up on the shelfs because Hange had left it that way.

And the whiteboard right next to his desk which Hange had failed to clean many weeks before was suddenly wiped clean. Levi didn't even noticed he let out a sound, a mix between a gasp and a whimper when he saw Hange's list of emails completely gone, erased over.

"You okay in there, boss?" Petra asked.

"Someone cleaned the whiteboard," Levi said.

"Oluo, I told you he'd point out your shitty job cleaning the board!" Petra said, from just outside.

Oluo responded. "Well, he's not going to be using it anymore so I though--- Ow!" Some silence followed, then approaching footsteps. "Sorry sir, I'll clean it again."

"No, it's fine," Levi said, he put his hand up, as if to stop Oluo from making that quick trek back to the white board. "I'll clean up the rest. Thanks for the help."

For once, he was grateful for someone's carelessness. The white board wasn't as clean as he thought it was a second ago and maybe because he would have rather it wasn't clean.

Hange wrote in crooked lines where ends hit one another, others fell and the fonts and sizes were never too similar from one line to the other. And the closer Levi came to the whiteboard, he noticed it, one email peeking out, spared by the shoddy erasing job.

Wingsoffreedom132

Hange had multiple emails she used for testing and when Levi opened his work laptop one last time, enjoying the last few hours of access as he cleaned up folders and code repositories, he found himself looking back at the email.

Does she still use it? He asked himself

Maybe. It was worth a try at least.

He looked once again around the room, the very empty room. Then he looked back at his screen, opened the repositories that were ready to be sent out to the point person from Jaeger corporation.

Then he opened his own personal folder, the unfinished codes from the love alarm then the mood alarm then the plans, the files and on the upper left of the file 'the Mood Alarm.'

To hell, with red tape, bureaucracy and all that shit. It was his project, right at his fingertips. It wasn’t Zeke’s nor was it management. The only reason they probably hadn’t sacked him on the spot was because he was the only one who could have so efficiently organized it before they sent it off to some poor sap who worked under Jaeger corporation.

He allowed himself one rebellion, or more specifically a string of rebellions.

If he were forced by some bureaucracy to send all the resources of the love alarm and the mood alarm to Hange, he would do it on his own terms.

He disconnected from the office wifi. He opened a hotspot then he opened his own personal email. Opening an incognito tab, he transferred all the codes and resources to his own personal repository, organizing it in a similar manner.

Then copied the link and started to compose an email.

To: [email protected]

All the codes for the love alarm

He pasted the link right below.

All codes for mood alarm.

And below it, he pasted another link.

He waited for a few more seconds as the email loaded the attachment, the file with all the plans he had for the mood alarm, allowing himself a small smile as he imagined Hange pondering the name 'mood alarm.'

He vacillated between writing a message under and keeping it brief. Then a second later, his fingers moved for him, he didn't even realize what he had been writing until it was on the page, ending on a period for finality.

“Dedicate your heart.” He read it out loud, then he felt a pang on his chest and a twist at his gut.

Dedicate your heart to what? He didn't want Hange dedicating her heart to anything. He wanted her free, flying high, doing whatever the hell she wanted to, bound by no role, no debt of gratitude, no excuse for love.

Reach for the sky? Hell, she could probably even make it to the stars.

So he went for something that left him cringing.

Reach for the stars (or anything higher than that).

Then he added something, collateral from that rush of indignance.

Don’t let anything stop you. Just remember, I would have given you all these damn codes for free.

After sending the email, he took a few precautions. He cleared his history, his cache, his browser and he deleted the rest of the files in his laptop. With one hour before the end of day, he turned off the laptop.

“Do you need any more help?” Petra had entered the room, hands behind her back in some very faux casual manner. And she seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

Levi used that moment to wipe that last line of Hange’s email, as if that could have been evidence to that bout of rebellion. “I’m done. Let’s leave the rest to whoever will be cleaning up the desk.”

Petra didn’t seem at all suspicious, or maybe she didn’t care. “That’s good. WIll you be joining us for dinner?”

Levi nodded. “Maybe my leaving is worth a dinner.”

“You’re really leaving?”

“Looks like it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I bought a plane ticket, secured a visa. I'll go somewhere, far from here, then find a job or maybe work freelance.

“I want you to stay here.”

“I wanna stay here too,” Levi admitted. “But I couldn’t even find a job.”

“I’ll miss having you here… And working with that love alarm. I really believed in the product and it made me realize my own feelings too,” Petra leaned by the window, looking worse for wear.

When Levi gave a long look, he noted maybe she had been crying. He almost felt guilty for not even struggling to fight back tears then.

Maybe his body had already reached the point of pure catatonic, pure acceptance at the hopelessness of the situation. “I’m sorry.” What was he saying sorry for? “I mean— I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

Petra took a deep breath. “This is probably the only time I can say something so I’ll say it now and you know, if you believe in your love alarm, you probably figured it out already,” Petra started. “I like you, I really like you. Actually you know what, it might be love. I don’t know if that would change anything—”

“It won’t.” Levi kept his voice firm. “I bought the ticket. I organized my papers and I have a place to stay. I’m leaving.”

“For good?” Petra had on a wounded look, her mouth twisted into something similar to a pout, by her eyes were elsewhere as if she knew there was a little too much vulnerability in her voice. “So, whatever I feel, it won’t change anything?”

Levi shook his head. “I don’t think it would be fair to you if I accept your feelings. I’m in no hurry to date.” He let out a clipped sardonic laugh. “At this point, I’ll probably die alone.”

“You deserve—”

“And you deserve someone who wouldn’t decide to date you for convenience.” Maybe Levi had been a little too frank at that moment.

Petra didn��t respond, her mouth frozen in a tight lipped line.

“The love alarm will be back so maybe you can use that to find someone else whose alarm rings with yours,” Levi continued, his voice deliberately gentler. “Or what about growing something organically, without the help of that stupid app. I honestly think, sometimes the love alarm causes more chaos than actually fixes things.” He shrugged. “It depends on the circumstances really.”

Circumstances he probably would never understand. He turned back to the black screen and reflected for a long painful moment about it. He was a slave to circumstance.

They were silent for a while longer and Levi used that time to recover, willing himself not to meet Petra's eyes.

She broke the silence a few seconds later. “We’ll meet you by the gate for dinner?”

“I’ll see you then, just give me an hour or so,” Levi said, checking the clock on his phone. He had a little more than an hour left before EOD. “Or just text me when you find a restaurant.”

It took a little longer to convince Petra to leave and it had ended with them having to text Levi a familiar restaurant name.

Levi had taken his time doing nothing at all, just sitting on his office chair in his bare office room. He counted down the minutes on his phone until five. A few times he had even stared at the seconds counting down on the digital clock view on his phone.

Around a minute past five. He booted his laptop again, typed out his email and password.

Access Denied. Please contact your IT Administrator.

At exactly five in the afternoon, he lost access to the system. He took a deep breath and let reality weigh him slowly, then sink deep into him in one swift sensation.

The love alarm and the mood alarm were never his. Any delusion that they were his had dissipated with all the company accesses.

***

In an airport, the point past immigration is international space.

Maybe that explained that strange liberation that came with getting past immigration and walking through the gates, searching for his own. Or it could have been many things at once. He was out of his old job, out of his old environment and somehow, in its own way, it symbolized a new beginning.

Even as an international space though, some things weren’t completely unavoidable. Settling on the departure gate, Levi went through some final checklists on his phone.

He had a new bank account. He had a place to stay as soon as he landed.

And his inbox was a confluence of unread mail. Many of them were goodbyes, from colleagues, some from finance, from human resources, from his own team and he wondered how the hell people found out and what they were thinking about his leaving.

Erwin sent a few tips on taxes and getting housing loans. Petra had sent a ‘safe flight’ message with the same pleasantries of meeting up when she gets to visit.

There was one message was avoiding and he decided to open it last. He spent the first few minutes before that spamming the same thank you message to every single goodbye message.

That one other message after all, was easy to ignore, just a bank notification that money had been wire transferred.

One hundred thousand dollars, the exact money he had lost and sent over to Yelena, he realized as he opened the message and put a little more thought into it.

You have two weeks to claim it. Two weeks? The countdown started a week ago and he only had a week to claim it.

Actually, not even a week. Looking up at the boarding time, he realized he only had an hour. He could probably organize something to have it sent over to his new account. Considering timing and the logistics though was stressful enough already. And besides, his mind found it more enticing to just indulge the context behind such a large sum of money.

It could have been a scam. The amount of money though had seemed too much of a coincidence and admittedly, Levi was a still lovesick.

Don’t send me money. Just fucking talk to me. Levi whispered to himself. Just in case, just in case that was Hange.

In some indignant response, he decided to delete the message and instead, spend last few hours going through some obscure threads on the industry. Something he had been actively avoiding.

Business Jaeger Zeke Jaeger acquires the love alarm… The mogul had found a fatal bug on the love alarm…

In a noble effort to improve the efficacy and accuracy of the product, he took it upon himself to oversee development….

Head developer behind the love alarm has been terminated....

Unnamed developer. He had at least been given that much. Levi let out a sigh. For a high profile application, no one really figured out the name of the head developer. It was a thankless job but Levi never thought too much about the glory of it.

And at that moment, he could only be grateful for the anonymity, whether or not Zeke had done it deliberately.

Plane ready for boarding.

They would be starting with first class passengers first and Levi knew he had more than enough time to take a trip, to the farthest trash can, yet still something near enough to catch the flight.

He unzipped the front pocket of his backpack, pulling out a small sim card pin. He poked it, pulling out the tray, noting the bronze sheen of the sim card. It had taken him a few tries to hold the small card between his fingers and a few more tries to bend it between his fingers, bend it to the point of unusable.

He pocketed his phone and quickly made his way back to the boarding gate.

No bank account. No phone number. He wondered why he went through that much of an effort to destroy everything.

Maybe just for an attempt for a new beginning. Or maybe because he didn’t want her to find him.

The more he thought about it though, the sooner he realized he wanted her to find him. He just thought it better to assume that she wouldn’t even try.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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imdreaminadream · 3 years

Text

The results pt 2 ~ what about it makes you cringe?” Category 3

( - prologue. - part 1 - category 1 - category 2 )

Okay so this is the results to the question in the quiz, What about it makes you cringe. In reference to the questionnaires core subject about smut fanfics.

Also quick psa there will be a part for the results for the other question - “In kpop fics, Korean words i.e. jagiya, seem to be a no no, would you like to elaborate why?”

Now note these particular results are going to be split into 3 posts because I decided to split the results into 3 categories. 1 - Writing Aspects. 2 - Personal Preferences. 3 - Genuine Problems. >This post is category 3<

TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTIONS OF - rape, minors engaging in sex, child pornography, childhood trauma, unsafe bdsm/kinky sex, misogyny?, toxic masculinity? anything else that needs to be tagged message me so I can add them.

DISCLAIMER BELOW. (please read that before continuing)

This is going to be a long post. The responses were very enlightening but please don’t take this as an attack. Consider this more as constructive cheat sheet to good smut writing or just ignore it if you don’t agree with it. Some of this did a bit deep apricate trigger warnings will be put on the appropriate posts but I’m not sorry it got deep fics can also affect real life as much as we wish it were something that didn’t mix in with real life, it does. I’m no official like sex guru or big-time writer, or what ever BUT I did add little advice underneath each answer, which are just a reflection of the people’s answers. Again if you don’t like the sounds of this don’t take it personal and click off.

Genuine problems

Rape territory - There was a common theme of people commenting about what is essentially edging into rape territory. This was talked about with both sexes, where one expresses, they’re not in the mood but the other just continues to make advances on them until they end up having sex. Everyone who spoke about it mentioned it comes across as coercive or forceful (which would be dubious consent, but I personally know how no one tags it as that because they don’t realize.) something that makes them immediately stop reading and knocks an author’s credit in their eyes. When a character is crying as though they’re not enjoying it, but the sex doesn’t stop and there is not safe word that is used.

No advice for this just use common sense.

Lack of tags which indicate trigger/content warnings - This only came up a handful of times but considering its importance I added it in here to talk about. The comments about it were straight forward as is the topic. Some authors aren’t tagging their work appropriately and it’s actually quite dangerous. You tag your work for a reason to let people know what is involved in it before they read, tagging everything is crucial. If something isn’t tagged you risk the reader, at the very least, the reading but then feeling discontent because it had something in they don’t like to read. Then at the worst you risk people’s mental health, you risk them having panic attacks, anxiety attacks because their trigger was in your fic but they didn’t know because it wasn’t tagged for them to see and know not to read because it could trigger them.

Advice for this is to bold things which you know for sure are sensitive topics, and make sure to tag everything in your damn fucking tag section. You risk people having panic attacks when you don’t tag your work right and they read your work only to find out it has their trigger included in it being blindsided because after reading your shitty tags they didn’t know but you put it in there. Also please don’t just tag smut, tag everything included in that smut because something works are tagged smut and then next thing you know person b is being choked, clothes cut by a knife, restrained with rope, told they’re a slut/whore.

They’re a minor - This also only came up a handful of times, not because people don’t care but probably because they don’t commonly come across it enough however this is incredibly important topic even outside of what about smut makes you cringe. This shouldn’t be a problem, as in it shouldn’t be happening as the people who commented, me and all of you know. They’re a minor, under 18, they’re technically still considered child in the law’s eyes anything sexual about them, like writing smut about them would be considered child pornography. “Things that persons under 18 are prohibited from doing - being depicted in pornographic materials.” No one even cares about “but I’m the same age as them uwu.” It still doesn’t make it right so don’t try and use excuses. Also, the minute a person turns 18 if your first thought is oh, I can write smut about them or request someone to write it for me please just leave that’s like preying on them as though you counted down till they were 18 and now the only value you see in them is for sex.

Mine and everyone else’s advice DON’T FUCKING DO IT.

Also, to note I don’t know what the official rules are for age swapping so like writing an adult person as a minor and depicting them in smut materials, to cope with your trauma, would anyone be open to talking to me about it, like educating me? There has just been this sudden wave more fics being, it’s okay to write adult that I made a child in my fic engaging in sexual content because it helps me cope with my trauma. It just seems everyone’s started saying that and I don’t know how many are being genuine or using it as an excuse or gone with the flow treated it like a trend. Not to be rude just genuinely how legit is this? How many people who write it have genuinely experienced that trauma? P.s if you have experienced that trauma, I am genuinely so sorry and know I am not disrespecting or invalidating your trauma I promise.

Female Characters/misogyny? - Now what this means is everyone expressed how they hate the constant portrayal that it only takes seconds for a female to reach an orgasm and she already wet to go like some kind of tap. They also highlighted a big problem with constantly painting the female as this innocent, dainty, dumb, naïve, shy, small, little girl. Women have brains too; women can give as good as they get and aren’t these shy naïve little playthings. All women have different personalities, the stereotypes about women in fics I’ve seen through the answers, and myself in fics, to my questionnaire is upsetting everyone. And you can see why, is it not bad enough we are subjected to misogyny and stereotyped in real life but now we have to see it in fics too. It genuinely does make people stop reading, it makes them cringe as the answers have suggested. One person mentioned this in their response, and I feel it should also be included, “y/n is absolutely okay with everything being done to her.” This isn’t something we should ever hear. This category feels like the right category to mention it so just consider their words, consider why that makes them cringe at smut writing that includes that.

To everyone the advice is a no brainer when you look at the responses. Make sure that the female character is actually getting turned on like into the mood before even thinking about mentioning that she is wet. And consider that a lot of statistics and personal experiences of other women stating it’s not all that easy to orgasm during sex, and not typical for her to come before the male, so make it sound like it’s worth the female characters while not that they do it for 3 minutes and suddenly she is coming.

Please also STOP with the constant bullshit of stereotyping of women as exampled above. If you like to feel small or submissive or whatever in the bedroom and you express that in your fics I get you but that does not mean you have to portray the female character as dumb, naïve, small, weak like for the love of god spice it up a bit, make her powerful, clever, with personality etc.… being in charge of her own body, knowing about her body, and what she wants and how to get it.

Btw no one is saying it’s not okay to be shy and that before you come in here like “why are you shaming shy, or small girls or dd/lg kink,” it’s not that I can assure you. We’re talking about the stereotype of it that is used to make the women seem more pliable for the man to control essentially not the genuine personalities/kinks people have.

Very passive sub female reader and overly dom male - Now many people spoke how an over macho dom male, and a passive - made out like they’re dumb, submissive female is a dynamic that is making them cringe now. It’s not a dynamic they care for anymore, and I agree with them especially considering the issues it brings about. “ Whenever the female reader is extremely passive and shy/flustered whereas the idol/character is extremely assertive/condescending/dominating/leading everything in comparison.” There is a personal preference to this yes# people acknowledged this, however when talking about this dynamic they further explained the issues with it. Overly passive female has already been touched on but to reiterate the replies insinuated they’re sick of seeing women in fics treated how they are in real life essentially – like some dumb little girl. One person said, “I like when the girl can give as good as she gets, though that’s just my preference.” So, like what has been discussed before this portrayal of females it absolute bullshit and needs to fucking stop being such a constant portrayal. (mind break is different so don’t start)

Then for the male side of things it’s enforcing the stereotype men are macho an alpha male, they don’t have feelings they just think with their dick and have all grr I’m super toxically manly do you ever lift bro, I’m so strong, I get all the bitches, fuck all the girls, the have control over the passive female and not in a consenting way, in an entitled way. Which no, they can have feelings, they can be softer more feminine all whilst still identifying as a man. They can be submissive just as much as a anyone else, they can be a switch or just a dom that isn’t this macho, macho, man. They can be needy, loving, caring, in touch with themselves, their feelings and everything the female character is made out to be, apart from dumb, naïve and weak of course, yano all those negative things any gender and non-gender people want to be associated with. If the guy wants to get railed by the female and be the sub in the dynamic of male x female, then fair enough let it happen there isn’t nothing wrong with it.

All in all, it’s okay for males to be more feminine than masculine and females more masculine than feminine. It’s okay to portray that in fics genuinely. I wouldn’t say I have any advice for this other than the obvious no more macho man and passive females.

Use of Korean words. - If you’re not a Korean person don’t think you’re in the right to argue about this. The Korean people have spoken up and you will listen and respect them. Know this is an important topic, however there will be a separate post for this, so I’ll keep this bit short to then expand on more in the separate post. Just wanted to make you the reader aware that this is an issue. It’s not okay to be treating noona, unnie and oppa like a kink if you are not Korean, or have Korean heritage. The people who are Korean so kindly explained, it was a normal word for them like just another part of their culture until bad egg kpop fans got their hands on it and they have now sexualized it to the point where some Korean people do not feel comfortable to even use it without thinking of the sexual connotation it has now been given.

Now like I said I will talk further about that and more, to do with the use of Korean words in fics, in another post, I don’t already have that post drafted so it might take a while to get out and post. However in that time I’m gladly open to hearing more people who are Korean and have Korean heritage, views on this. Or if you too have experience with a word from your language having been taken from being an innocent word to now having a sexual connotation as well because of people not from your country/culture having given it that sexual meaning. It could be helpful to further emphasis the point about the Korean words but also show overall no matter the language/country that it’s making the people of that country/culture uncomfortable.

Also I hope it doesn’t come across like I’m trying to speak over Koreans. If anything i want to be helpful more than a hinderance. This was something that was spoken about on the questionnaire so I’m just writing what the Korean people have expressed about it in the questionnaire. I want to be able to give their voices from the questionnaire a platform and shed light on this situation, with them.

Also can I ask if gender is a factor in this as well? I’ve seen on tiktok where some Korean guys like being called oppa but I’m not sure if that's in a respectful light or a sexual light, if they were being sarcastic for the Korea-boos or? but i have never seen women say they like being called noona in a way that comes across as a turn on? So can anyone comment on that? send me anons pls.

Too much degradation - Of course everyone who has mentioned this has said it is quite a personal preference thing, the acknowledge that it’s a kink not for everyone. Although on the flip side them relentlessly mentioning it give the feel that it’s becoming more of a problem and less of it’s okay it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. You see they exampled “bitch, slut, whore.” It’s so commonly used, and they even said how they’re finding it not tagged majority of the time, so seeing that surprisingly in the fics constantly it makes them cringe but it’s not a type of thing one can get over it’s apparent it’s becoming a slight problem. It begs the question how much degradation is too much, why is it constantly being used in fics? Does everyone love labeling the female y/n a bitch, whore, slut? Why is the male y/n never called a slut as much as female y/n? Do females have more of a degradation kink than men?

I can’t think of any advice to give based on the feedback, apart from obviously add it to your tags that there is a lot of degradation but it there is anything anyone else wants to add on this topic feel free to re-blog with your take or send me anons.

Describing features on a y/n fic - A few people have mentioned this, and I categorized it as a problem because well it is because not only does it make them cringe in smut fics but also in normal fics and poc feel oppressed in yet another way. When it’s written as y/n it’s supposed to allow the reader to insert themselves into the fic to imagine themselves in there, yet it’s not always done like that. As one of the responses said, it seems authors like that tend to project themselves or their ideal selves onto y/n physical feature wise. More often than not as the responses have indicated y/n is portrayed as cis female, white, blonde, blue eyes, other physical traits such as breast size, dick size body type, height and hair length are portrayed too, which pulls the readers out of imagining because they’re being told they have features they don’t. It’s especially bad for poc because their race never gets portrayed in fics, so it gives the message white race is the most favorable and we already know how racist the world is no need to bring it into fics either unknowingly or purposely.

Moral of the story, stop racism, end it. Go educate yourself.

Moral of the story, in regard to fics, well don’t describe y/n thoroughly. Instead leave it as vague as possible, I mean it’s not even needed to know what eye colour y/n has when they’re in the middle of getting railed.

Quick intermission to just say make sure you tag what gender and pronouns y/n has for your fic, so people are fully aware what y/n they’re getting in this fic.

Nor do we need to know what skin colour they have, it can easily be mentioned that a character is touching y/n’s body without saying they have milky skin indicating they’re white. It is very possible to not give y/n a race. Also, height, keep height out of it don’t describe it because not everyone is 5’2. (hello yes, I’m 5’10 so imagine me reading character a of height 5’8 towering over me, I mean maybe if they wear heels yes but otherwise no.) Similarly, don’t ever describe body types, you can say an outfit flatters a person’s figure without describing it, people can have sex without their body being specifically described i.e., slim figure, toned shapely legs. Please understand that by not describing y/n you’re helping to contribute to racism, and these wacky beauty standards that are already being forced onto us in the real world never mind the fictional world.

Lack of safe word - Following on from kinks not being portrayed correctly there is the issue of lack of safe word. Now this is something that again didn’t come up quite a lot but that doesn’t mean it’s not an issue. Some are writing fics where one of the people involved, are being railed to high hell and it’s kinky as fuck or you’re writing a BDSM specific fic. Which is okay we are not judging or shaming but it’s concerning how with all this type of sex being had there is no even slight mention of the pairing having a safe word which is has the name would imply really important. It is there to keep the people participating in this kinky sex safe, without that it’s really harmful. Now if you think oh but writing in the discussion of safe words is really unsexy, especially when I’m just trying to make the characters fuck really kinky, then please go educate yourself. Safe words are incredibly sexy when you know it means you get to have bomb ass kinky sex but know that you can also have boundaries that should and will be respected, and a word or system i.e. traffic light system, to pause or stop when ever you need to in order to keep the kinky sexy safe.

The obvious advice is to incorporate consent and knowledge of safe word in your fic. It can be as simple as writing that the characters stop a minute for person a saying to person b you know your safe word. And then writing a small mini paragraph of person b feeling even more in love and/or turned on because their boundaries are being respected. Then you just carry on with writing the smut. You can imply easily that they have a safe word, that it’s been discussed, therefore they’re gong to be safe, respected and made to feel good.

Also, I know there are some people out there who are, a bit unsure on writing a fic in which one person uses their safe word. This is your friendly supportive message to just do it, don’t be afraid of what others think, do it for you it’s something great to write. There are many different ways you can go with it, so you do it if you want to 😊.

Honorable mentions of things that make the people cringe.

(Not a problem just as we are at the end of this category I figured I’d put honorable mentions. disclaimer again, these are other people’s comments from the questionnaire. You are entitled not to agree with them however do not attack me as some have been doing.)

fetishize people’s gender or race/ethnicity

uneducated use of other cultures to make it look authentic

Use of the word plum when they mean plump. One’s a fruit/colour, the other means having a full rounded shape.

PICK ME Y/N (we all know the type)

Stereotypes of all kinds. Of people, phrases, troupes etc.….

Written in a way it sounds monotone. i.e., “He did this, he did that, I did this.”

When all y/n does during a smut scene is whine. There are other synonyms people.

infantilization of y/n. stop making me feel like the person who the fic is about, is a nonce.

y/n is constantly oh so innocent. Like they can be a virgin don’t get it wrong. BUT we all know 9 times out of 10 y/n reads fanfic so they ain’t innocent.·

no refractory period.

try hard humour in the middle of smut.

terrible euphemisms

proper unrealistic dick sizes

adding in smut into a plot where it doesn’t fit

try hard

more to come potentially?

END OF CATERGORY 3

(Feel free to discuss in comments, in my messages or send anons or anything like that if you want.)

@nctsworld @lauraneuuh @jooniyah

Tag list:

@ceoofxiaojun @lovemayble @myelle-n

(@smutwritingpolice) (@smutwhy)

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rafeswife · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER ONE

Don’t forget to call me when you make it there safe!”

My mom yelled out at me as I scrambled to the door in a rush. A bag was on my shoulder full of hidden alcohol I had wrapped inside of towels, along with some snacks. I was currently on the way to see the pogues, unknowing to my mother who thought I was visiting the Cameron’s with baked goods.

I had lived in the Outerbanks for only a few weeks and the slang I had accumulated from hanging around the island still felt alien to me. My mother was a Interior Designer for one of the biggest home renovating shows in America, so moving around was nothing out of the ordinary for me. We had traveled from California to Ohio and my mothers next big project was none other then the North Carolina coast.

I had only met few people in my time on the island. On the second night of my stay I was greeted by a blonde girl who I soon placed as Sarah Cameron. The resident princess of the island; at least thats what I picked up on from listening to the Pogues. She was kind to me, it was a short exchange at the market. She recognized me as someone who wasn’t local and told me to text her if I ever needed help finding my way around the Outerbanks. We exchanged numbers and she left in a car of others in a rush.

Bringing me to my very first group of people I met on the island. My new house was in a place called Figure 8 and my next door neighbor was Kiera Carrera. One day while I was moving boxes into my house, I looked back and saw a Kiera on her porch she was in some sort of argument with her parents. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but their voices were anything but quiet. She was in a fight with her parents as she made her way down the steps. They shouted words that I didn’t understand at the time like “pogues” and “kooks” and “midsummars”.

All I knew was that I had been through what she had and I wanted to tell her it was going to be okay. Although it was none of my business, I waited for her parents to go inside as I placed the box of antiques down and made my way to the curb she sat on. I spoke to her about my parents divorce and I told her that it was okay to feel the way she was feeling. Our exchange led to her inviting me to her friend John Bs house. I don’t know why they added the B in John but I didn’t bother to ask. I met John B, and two other guys at his house. It gave me a close feel to a cabin with a tropic twist if that makes sense. John B was genuine, he told me stories of his father and welcomed me into his home with his arms open. On the other hand JJ was skeptical at first taking a minute to warm up to me because of the place where my home resided. He explained to me how the Kooks were selfish, rich people and the Pogues were the ones always ready for a good time on the island. He was fairly good looking but I shook away that thought because I could feel tension between him and Kiera. He then offered me a drink and told a few jokes that made me ugly laugh. Pope was the last boy I was acquainted with, he struck me as intelligent and determined. He seemed more worried of what I thought of them, telling JJ to calm down at times and asking Kiera questions about me. Overall the group and I had a good time and I left a good enough impression to be invited back.

Which leads me back to where I was headed. Kie invited me to a giant get together, they called it a Kegger which was just a party in Pogue language. I hopped inside my car and made my way to the beach, looking for a spot that others hadn’t found out about yet and parking. Shutting my car door and hitting the locks, I slung my backpack around me and followed the crowd. Which would’ve been the only way I knew where I was going if it wasn’t for the massive bonfire that was radiating smoke. I walked down to the secluded area and around the corner of a building saw hundreds and hundreds of people.

this has to be half of the town.

Quickly my anxiety began to creep up inside of me. As strange as it sounded because I moved all the time, I was very nervous around new people. Taking my shoes off of my newly tanned feet I stepped into the sand. I searched the beach squinting looking for the familiar faces of John B or Kiera but I was out of luck. I excused my way through strangers hoping I would run into one of the four Pogues. Digging my fingers into my hands and tugging at my backpack, I began to grow impatient.

Suddenly interrupting me from my intruding thoughts was a warm substance seeping down my white top. My eyes were met with a tall boy, who’s shoulders were broad and hair was slicked back. He held a bottle of beer in his hand as his blue eyes were set on my top.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

I blurted out, it was my fault he had spilt his drink after all. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going causing me to ram into the guy.

“I should be the one apologizing, here come with me my sister probably has a extra shirt.”

He then proceeded to grabbing my hand and pulling me through the crowd of guests.

This guy was really hot if I had to admit, his collared polo complimented his body and his hands were filled with veins. Not to mention he had on a ring, A RING! I normally didn’t try to involve myself with boys because of how much I moved around. Having to leave the last boyfriend I had behind was gut wrenching, but… I could make an exception. It had been forever since I had been with any guy and I was craving something a little more than holding hands.

As we pushed past the final few people we stopped around and empty area. The boy looked off into the distance at a girl on top of some sort of wooden post and a blonde guy struggling to get her to come down. In fact, I knew that girl. It was-

“Sarah! Come here!”

I was startled by the loud outburst beside me. Sarah was his sister… That must’ve meant he was Rafe. Dammit.

flashback

“Every Kook is BAD, now repeat after me”

JJ had a very strong opinion about the richer class, I wonder what the reason was. What about Sarah Cameron, she seemed sweet.

“I met this girl named Sarah the other day, she was actually really welcoming.”

“Sarah CAMERON?”

Kiera blurted in sort of a grimace. She didn’t seem to be too fond of her.

“Sarah Cameron is the epitome of a snobby, entitled little brat. She always gets whatever she wants and doesn’t care about anyone other then herself.”

Kiera seemed to share a popular opinion amongst the Pogues based on their reaction to her outburst. They all nodded their heads in unison.

“Don’t even get me started on her brother Rafe! He is even worse, he treats the Pogues like shit and gets away with it every single time because he goes crying to his daddy.”

Her opinions on the two struck me as cruel. I didn’t know the two so clearly I couldn’t just defend them but, I didn’t like the way the Pogues spoke so poorly of the Kooks. It seemed wrong. Especially because when I met Sarah she was anything but a “brat”.

“Just don’t get involved with them. For your own good.”

JJ said, I could tell he was amused with making fun of the Cameron siblings. John B looked at my face and could tell something was off.

“Alright, Alright, I think you guys are started to scare the girl. Let’s go check out the waves.”

end of flashback

Sarah jumped off the pole without any regrets swinging around in what I assumed to be her boyfriends arms and making her way over to the two of us.

“Yes Rafe. What is so important that-“

Her gaze met mine.

“Alexis!”

She pulled me in for a hug quickly, my nose whiffing the smell of alcohol on her. Or on me.

“Hey Sarah”

“What happened!”

She exclaimed looking down at my shirt that was stuck to my skin.

“It was an accident,”

Rafe butted in.

“Rafe.”

She drug out in anger.

“We haven’t even met the girl for more than a second and you already have spilt your drink on her. Typical.”

I looked over at Rafe in pity for a split second but then I remembered this was a sibling thing to do. It was normal for brothers and sisters to argue, I didn’t know much about it because I was an only child.

“Shut up Sarah”

“It was my fault honestly, I wasn’t watching where I was walking.”

I nervously broke the tension. They both looked at me for a split second and then the silence was stopped by Sarah taking her shirt off. I was surprised by the Cameron girls boldness.

“Chill out girl, I’ve got a swimsuit and from the looks of it you don’t plus since Rafe did this too you he can kindly take you to his car so you can change.”

Sarah tossed me the top and ran for the water waving a goodbye with a warm smile. She was gorgeous, and she made me feel good. The Pogues seemed closed minded, and my views on things were beginning to shift since they were no where in sight, even though they said they were going to meet me here. Adding onto my perspective was the fact that Sarah and Rafe were there.

“She’s a handful. I’m Rafe by the way, which you probably gathered.”

His eyes were a little red, he must have been smoking. His voice seemed a little droopy but it was still sexy. My feet followed the direction of his as I held the shirt in my hand.

“Nice to meet you, Rafe. I’m Alexis.”

My voice was a bit shaky but confident. I liked to sound confident when I met others even though I wasn’t. We shortly arrived at his jeep, and he unlocked the doors.

“Can I put this bag down somewhere?”

I said picking the heavy weight off of my shoulder.

“Yeah, here let me see it.”

I rubbed my sore skin as he grabbed the bag and sat it in the trunk.

“Beer in the towels, huh?”

I looked back at him.

“Hey, who said you could be nosy?”

I playfully smiled at him.

“No one, but I was just curious what you were carrying around, I mean for all I know it could’ve been drugs.”

“You probably would’ve been happier with that outcome, huh?”

He laughed. His laugh. Holy shit his laugh. It was so hot.

“Can you grab me a drink?, I need one”

I asked desperately.

“If I can snatch one too then deal”

I nodded at his remark and hopped inside of his car grabbing the drink from his hand. I sat the drink in a cup holder as I took my soaked shirt off. I sat it to the side and then looked at my bra.

“Shit”

It was soaked too, I took it off as well praying it wasn’t getting any colder tonight as I slipped on the yellow tank top Sarah gave me.

I grabbed my drink, took a swig and opened the car door. I looked out and Rafe was already crushing his can sitting on the hood of the car.

“Want another?”

I offered reaching in my bag and extending my hand. He turned his head and looked at me for a few seconds. My hand waiting for release from the beverage but it never came. Then I realized why as I looked down at my shirt. You could see through. Before I looked back up he grabbed the drink clearly as embarrassed as I was.

“Yeah uh sorry”

His hand scratching the back of his neck as he opened the can. I brushed off the exchange and got up on the hood of his car with him looking at the party from afar taking another sip.

“So, you’re new ay?”

Rafe said.

“Yeah, I just moved here a couple of weeks ago.”

He wasn’t making eye contact with me and neither was I. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. The scenery was calm. The stars looked perfect and the sound of the faded party and waves were in perfect harmony.

“Who invited you here?”

“Just some people I met, they told me they would meet me but didn’t follow through.”

“Screw them. You should come hang out with us.”

His invite made me feel warm. I looked over at him taking a sip of the drink, I watched as it gilded down his throat. His adam’s apple bobbing. He was a masterpiece. I must’ve been looking a little too long because he whipped his head around at me. I quickly averted my gaze away embarrassed.

“Yeah I will definitely take you up on that offer, I can’t stand unreliable people.”

We were close. His hand smoothed it way to my knee. Yes please.

“Neither can I, good thing we are reliable. Even got you a new shirt.”

He stared back down as he made this statement clearly looking at my boobs. Quite frankly I was flattered.

“Eyes are up here buddy boy”

I cringed at my own words but being a couple of drinks in at this point I didn’t care.

“I know”

He said. His hand slid a little further up my leg placing on my thigh. Higher. and higher.

“You have a boyfriend?”

He asked, I laughed at this. Hard. My laugh was one of those laughs that sounded so stupid other people would laugh at it. So as I kept laughing he began to laugh as well.

“w-what”

His high was probably making my laugh sound even more strange then it already was.

“Nothing just that question is funny.”

BOOM

Both of us flinched as we looked away from eachother. That was a gun shot. I frantically got up.

“What the fuck, we need to get out of here”

Rafe yelled. I looked at him in a panic.

“What about Sarah!”

I shouted back.

“We will grab her in the car, now get in.”

The Pogues were still down there. I looked at Rafe as he sat in the car and looked down at all the people running away from the scene. I had to make a decision quickly.

The Kooks or The Pogues

#fanfic #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #jj maybank #kiera carrera #television #chapter one #john b x sarah #jj x kie #writing #rafe x reader #imagines #reader insert

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ahsokasanity · 3 years

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Chapter Eight

A Court of Shadow and Ribbons Missed any Chapters? Go to the pinned post

Notes:

– With credit to song words (only slightly messed with) Melissa Etheridge “Do It Again”

Nessian mating ceremony.

Idisi comes from Nordic mythology around the Valkyries – ours didn’t want to be a replica of the original female warriors, but something new and their own.

Apologies if you’re fitting this in during lunch break (@TrashForAzriel !) It’s a bit longer than normal

Nesta was not nervous on the day. She was already so entwined emotionally with Cassian that it actually seemed a natural progression to confess it in front of a few important friends and family. Some of the training group would be at the service, some could not make the step from the House of Wind to Velaris proper. They had tentatively begun to call themselves Idisi – the name itself made them more a part of the Valkyrie mythology, Nesta grinned to herself as she remembered Gwyn coming to them with the idea “Well, we can’t just keep calling ourselves the training group or Cassian’s defenders.” Although Nesta quite liked the second.

Nesta had stayed at The River House overnight and Cassian, Azriel and Rhys were to fly as many from the library as they could. Mor was going to Windhaven to collect Emerie who would stay the night in Velaris. All of them might end up out on the town. Nesta was wishing for, and dreading that night as the first she would take as Cassian’s mate and the first time she would return to the nightclubs and drinking bars that she had frequented before her recovery. With Cassian by her side, she knew it would be a fun night. The House of Wind had been entitled to them and tonight she would host her friends. The House had promised to care for them all if Nesta was occupied once they got home.

Gwyn had agreed to sing but she was nervous about leaving the library. The last time she did was to support Nesta and they had ended up abducted. She knew the circumstances were entirely different and the River House was so very safe, but it did not stop the butterflies swarming in her gut or the slight vibrato when she did try to speak at breakfast. She’d put on her best prayers robe. It was a pale blue and pleated around the neck to be fastened at the waist with a gold thin rope. He feet were shod in thick leather slippers that would protect her while travelling and walking in the garden.

There were just five of them to attend from the priestesses and being that Azriel and Rhys could winnow, they took Margot, Lorelei, Deirdre and Roslin. Cassian was grinning at Gwyn. “I think that the first Idisi to cut the ribbon with her sword should have no problem getting a ride to MY mating ceremony with her best friend’s mate?”

Gwyn laughed a nervous laugh and pursed her lips. “No, you wouldn’t think so would you” She stepped toward him and stood at his side, offering her arm for him to take. Cassian wrapped one arm around her waist and took her forearm with his other hand. “I’ll hold you and I promise I will not let you fall”

She nodded but closed her eyes. The hand around her hip was firm not punishing and his other hand was gentle on her arm. She told herself over and over. It’s OK, this is Cassian, it’s OK”

“No harm will come to you” Cassian had sensed her thoughts and she tried to look up at him, to give permission for this flight. He grinned down at her

“Don’t have too much fun will you” and launched off the training area into the bright summer sky. Gwyn screeched, not in a scared way she surprised herself, but with exhilaration. Cassian merely flapped harder to get into the slip stream heading up the face of the cliff from the city. As they got into that rising warm air he extended his wings to their widest (Gwyn remembered something that Nesta had told her that night in the library of the House of Wind, about Illyrians wing spans), but she shut down that thought as they began spiralling down, down, so smooth, so free.

The feeling was immense. She had shut herself out of this world for years now and could suddenly see what she might be missing. Yes, High Fae, Illyrians and half breeds like her, could all be cruel to each other. There was also this, flying (she was flying for the Mother’s sake) and heading to a celebration of love of togetherness and she loved her friends. She felt wonderful and alive and impatient to enjoy more.

The garden and lawn of the River House (it should be called the River Palace she thought), looked picture perfect today. Elain had worked hard on getting the flowers to bloom, in the right colour order to suit where Nesta would stand. Rhys had spared no expense in the set up of a pavilion and chairs, with a spread of food for all, once Cassian and Nesta had officially Mated.

Cassian could sense her excitement and a change in her scent from flat out petrified to wonder and a happy nervousness. One more thing that he could do to make her comfortable was to set her down where Mor and Emerie were talking at the outskirts of the party.

“Thank you Cassian” Gwyn stood on her tip toes to peck him on the cheek. “I did not know that it would be like that, so free. I can’t really explain it”

Cassian merely shrugged and replied “You don’t have to. I am glad that you are here, and that Nesta doesn’t have to attempt murder because I scared her friend!” He winked and headed off to Rhys and Azriel who were clucking over baby Nyx.

“Gwynie, oh wow, you are so lucky. How was the flight? It looked so glorious today and you took the slow way down. Oh, I am so jealous” Emerie was at her side and Mor a step behind.

“It’s nice to see you Gwyn” Mor intoned. There was more to that statement than your average greeting. It’s nice to see Gwyn in Velaris, it’s nice to see Gwyn outside the protection of the library. The first time that Mor had met Gwyn, she had just been repeatedly raped and her world was imploding. Mor here, in the sun on this grassy expanse of the river flat was a beautiful sight. Her words were a balm and Gwyn just nodded.

“It is so nice to see you again” she replied, again meaning a lot more than pure greeting.

Emerie took Gwyn’s arm but steered her close to Mor as they seemed to be in the middle of something “Just stay here until you have to sing will you Gwyn?” her friend insisted “I’ll get you a drink and we can applaud from here!”

Mor laughed at that and the two of them returned to talk of fabrics and colours and what Emerie sold in her shop and what Mor wanted to show her from Vallahan that was “like a second skin that shows every curve and highlights every asset” Whatever that meant. Emerie was immersed in the conversation and brought Gwyn in on it every now and then to suggest a colour for her or to ask her opinion. Gwyn was happily edging the topics as she was having more fun watching the others, Cassian being teased by his “brothers”, Feyre taking Nyx away from them before Rhys threw the boy high enough he’d have to learn to fly to get back, and Elain talking with some others whom Gwyn did not recognise. An auburn haired Fae with a mechanical eye. One of the sons of the Autumn Court by the looks. She remembered that Nesta did not like him much but that Feyre and he were on good terms. Elain seemed very quiet. Gwyn understood her shyness.

Emerie whispered to Gwyn “The red headed male is Lucien, Elain’s mate” she just nodded her head and looked their way. There was no explanation necessary, the relationship apparent. That mating was not the happy affair that Nesta and Cassian were celebrating. Elain looked a little more alive when Azriel joined their group, but Az stayed by Lucien’s side and spoke politely to all before moving to seat people around the central point of the yard, an altar and a table.

Gwyn was not at all present, she realised. The small tension of singing while Cassian and Nesta would be preparing and eating food together had been overtaken by the large stressor of being surrounded by people that she did not know. She found a place backing on to a heavily thorned rose bush bursting with red flowers. She felt better having her back protected. Little tremors shot up her spine and across her skin every few minutes and she held one hand in the other so that she could hold herself still. Deep breathing was the only thought that she had, her singing voice would not appreciate having no wind. Emerie touched her arm every now and then, but she was engrossed in the service and in leaning in to Mor’s side to whisper comments.

Gwyn found Emerie leading her toward the centre of the gathering and realised that she had better be ready to perform. A few strong breaths down into her stomach and she found her place, Nesta smiled through some tears as she moved aside to the table with food, Cassian so pleased, the look on his face many of them had never seen before.

Gwyn tried to look over the small crowd, but her gaze snagged on the darkness in one corner. Azriel. He gave her an encouraging nod and she was able to start

The song had originally been a nightclub hit, Nesta had played it for her on the Synphonia. Gwyn had tweaked it a little bit to be more soulful. More like a prayer.

Walked your fire I got a little bit burnt

Hold on tight cause I, I never did learn

You were the one they tried to warn me about

I jumped into your ocean knowing I could never get out

Oh darling it hurts, hurts to be in love

Oh darling it hurts but I do it just because

I walk straight through your mountain

Crawl right under your sea

And if you do not know it by now

You're the only one who does this to me

But I’d do it again

Yes I'd do it again

Even when I'm tired and my feelings are hurt

Never lost desire only made things worse

I hope I'm holding out for something good

Cause we're that combination yeah we're the kind that could

Oh darling it hurts, hurts to be in love

Oh darling it hurts but I do it just because

I walk straight through your mountain

Crawl right under your sea

And if you don't know, know it by now

You're the only one who does this to me

But I'd do it again

She looked up to see Cassian kissing Nesta passionately and smiled to herself. Only to become more self aware as people started to approach her with congratulations and it was hell.

Emerie was making her way to help, with Mor at her side, but Azriel and his shadows dispersed the few gushing admirers with excuses and subtle manoeuvring to suddenly be next to her. He lightly took her arm and guided her into the house and to the summer parlour by the kitchen. He sat her down on the nearest armchair and stepped back toward the door. “Wait Azriel, please” She was surprised to hear her own voice in such a clear request.

Azriel simply turned and stopped. He did not want to be closer to this woman than he already was. She was so beautiful and her singing always seemed to open a door to his emotions. He could not hear her without remembering old forgotten feelings of being held by his mother, of being full, not the furtive being that he had become. It was undoing his resolve, his very footing on the earth.

Gwyn composed herself and looked straight at Az. “Thank you for helping me out of that situation. I didn’t want to be with so many people, but I don’t want to be alone either.”

It took three steps for Azriel to be seated next to her and looking around the room, not at her. He looked at her all of the time. He couldn’t do it now. His chest was thundering. Do not ruin this Az, he thought savagely. This woman has been through hell. Do not overstep

“I have to tell you something Gwyn” he knew once he started he would have to finish this. “I have noticed you wearing a chain at training…”

“Oh well, it’s OK if I shouldn’t wear it, it’s nothing much”

Az swallowed his next words and re-thought where he was going with this. “Really, it’s nothing much?”

Gwyn blushed a little. “Well, I do really like it but it was an anonymous gift and I probably will never know who gave it to me, it shouldn’t be important to me”

Azriel decided then to struggle on. This could not stand. “It was me”

The room was silent. Gwyn’s face went through about fifteen expressions while he watched and waited. She looked sad then like she would yell at him, then pensive, finally she looked at him and spoke. “Why?”

“You are not going to like this, but I am going to tell you the absolute truth. That is all I can promise you” Azriel got out of the chair and started to walk this way and that about the room.

“I bought the jewel and the chain for Elain before Winter Solstice, I know that sounds bad, but please listen” Gwyn was discomforted but not scared. Azriel having feelings for her would be more scary.

“Rhys made me understand that any relationship outside of her being a sister to me was off the table. So Elain and I talked and she is my sister now. She will be making changes and I will support her decisions, but we will not be together”

Gwyn was struck dumb as to how she would feature in this story. How she became a part of this story.

Azriel could tell he was losing her. “After that night when you were training in the dark” She did smile at that “I wanted to give you something that was just appreciative of you”

“Do you think that Elain will see this and be upset?” Gwyn took the rose out of her top and it caught the sun. Azriel held himself together at the sight of Gwyn seated before him, rose between the thumb and forefinger and an absolute innocent look on her face.

“I, well, I hadn’t thought of that” he shifted to the far wall of the room and looked out over the gathering and smiled at his brother being fed bread by Nesta and laughing with less worry than he had even seen. He didn’t notice Gwyn had got up from her chair and approached him. When he turned back to her she was under his nose and he stepped back hurriedly

She had never felt threatened by Azriel, never nervous in his presence, but his closeness, his casual demeanour. He was not her trainer today. She held out the chain with the rose dangling and handed it to him.

“I think that it was a lovely gesture Azriel”, she liked the sound of his name and wanted to say it more, to moan it. “But, I think that you should take it back. Keep it until you can tell Elain that you found someone that you really want to see wearing it forever.” Azriel held out his hand and accepted the chain, quickly pocketing it with shame written across his downturned face at her words.

“Thank you, for thinking of Elain Gwyn. Five hundred years is not enough time apparently to turn me into a thoughtful male”

Gwyn could not bear the tone of his voice or the hunch of his shoulders. This was not Azriel on the back foot, this was him retreating. She knew the feeling. The self-loathing, the depression. It was not something that she wanted for him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t think that you are not every bit as noble as the best males in Velaris. You are thoughtful and you are kind. Think of all of our friends, our Idisi who are starting to feel, whole again.” She touched his cheek with a shaking hand “Think of me Azriel. I would be dead, and without the training I would be close enough to dead that there is little difference”

His eyes found hers but she stepped back away from him, hand still in the air between them.

“Azriel, would you walk with me in the garden?” She raised her elbow for him to take it, prayed that he would take it. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his arm through hers and they left the parlour then the house.

The party was getting properly started now, Cassian and Nesta had left, but that was no big deal, they would resurface later in the evening and it was the guest’s responsibility to eat, drink and enjoy themselves. It was being accomplished. Mor and Emerie were talking, heads close together by the edge of the crowd. Gwyn saw Elain speaking with Lucien in the company of Feyre and Nyx. That baby certainly garnered attention. Some of the priestess’ saw Gwyn with Azriel and waved them over.

They spoke for a little while, but the overall impression was that they were generally ready to leave. Lorelei and Deirdre had enjoyed perhaps a smidge too much strawberry wine and were giggly enough for the others to worry about their choices over the next few hours. The others had felt pleased and proud to be at the ceremony, but the ongoing music, drinking and laughing was not what they wanted for their first trip out from the library in an age. Azriel went to speak to Rhys, leaving Gwyn with the others with a smile and a nod that he would arrange transport for them.

Emerie found them and spoke to Gwyn “I think I’m going to stay here”, she nodded to Mor. “She has invited me to go out to Velaris to a night Club! I think I’m going to like it. Mor said she’d take me to the House of Wind to the guest suite whenever I wanted to leave.” Emerie’s cheek flushed as she said “I can’t believe she’s here talking to me,…. I really like her” the last quietly and aimed only for Gwyn

“That’s great Em, you seem comfortable today, you look; yourself” Gwyn had noticed the calm stance and the open face while Emerie talked with Mor. She was really at home here.

“I feel amazing Gwynie, not like anything I’ve ever felt before. Free and happy and maybe,…excited” She hugged Gwyn. “Do you want me to ask Mor to winnow you home?, you look tired. Oh, where’s your chain?”

Gwyn looked slightly unsettled “Can I tell you about that later? , it’s alright though” She smiled to show Emerie that she was really fine with the loss and added “Would it be silly of me to ask, could I suggest that Mor help with Deirdre and Lorelei and the others? I’d like to speak to Azriel”

Emerie noted the confidence in Gwyn’s request and the lift of her head. She was sure about this.

“OK, sure. I’ll see what I can do” Emerie squeezed Gwyn’s hand then turned to Mor who was speaking with Lucien now.

Gwyn focused on the rose bushes and wandered around the edge of the revellers. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to talk to Azriel about, but she couldn’t leave him tonight without another word. She wanted to make sure that he was good. That he knew she was a friend. She was happy with her decision to give up the necklace. Even though the thought that it had been from Azriel was thrilling and scary all at once. She had now made a plan that he would find in the future, a need to gift it back to her with emotions attached. She didn’t know why that thought had occurred to her. It was something she could not have imagined before today.

Azriel approached her as if summoned. He was looking down and around, anywhere but her face, so she lifted her hand for him to take and stared him down. “I wanted to ask you, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please fly me home?

Azriel’s shock at the request was covered quickly. What he did know was that Gwyn was asking for physical contact with him. Winnowing only required the slightest touch. A hand or an arm. Flying on the other hand would be body contact on a larger scale. This was her choice. He nodded his head, lost for useful words. He didn’t want to sound like a clumsy novice male. He merely stretched an arm out for her to step into his side.

Gwyn turned to Emerie and Mor who were organising the other Idisi and gave them a smile. Emerie grinned in return and Azriel wrapped her in an embrace that was solid and calming yet her blood pounded and her eyes blinked. She couldn’t remember feeling so safe.

His wings spread and flapped and Azriel bent his knees and sprung into the breeze of the evening. Gwyn found herself tightening her grip around his neck and bringing her face closer to his

“You’re safe” is all he said

Gwyn simply replied “I know”

The trip down with Cassian had been exhilarating and freeing, the flying back required going across Velaris, coming to life with street lights and coloured flashes from the restaurants and dance rooms opening for the night. Gwyn got the feeling that she was missing a lot so she turned her head and took in the marvel of the city, the lights and the sun setting across the ocean. “Oh my goodness, Azriel, it is so beautiful” Azriel smiled and nodded, but he too looked properly at that view re-appreciating what he always knew was there. Trying to see it as Gwyn saw it for the first time brought a wonder to his heart that he had forgotten.

Gwyn looked at his face, and he caught her eyes. It was a charged moment. Azriel composed himself first and looked out to the sea and the river. With his free hand he began to point out landmarks and favourite haunts. From the Rainbow where Feyre went to paint and to teach, to the townhouse in the residential area and of course the sparkling flashing lights of Rita’s – their most frequented nightclub. “I guess I’ll be finding Mor and Emerie and probably the others there later” he smiled to think of what he knew of Mor now and the simmering looks that she and Emerie had been sharing during the ceremony. Only happiness filled him at the thought.

Gwyn was getting comfortable and moved a little in his arms. She squealed as she felt herself slip, but Azriel simply held her tighter and put his other arm under her legs, carrying her through the air like a princess. She surrendered, just for now she told herself, to the warmth and the stillness here in his chest.

Azriel relaxed into the embrace and flew steadily ignoring the thundering of his heart and the closeness of her lithe warrior’s body. The distance was covered all too soon and he stepped onto the roof of the house, jogging a few steps toward the double doors before coming to a halt. He placed her on the ground feet first, before facing her with his arm still around her middle. Gwyn stepped away first and walked backwards toward the entrance. She smiled at him

“Thank you Azriel” She looked down as if remembering where that jewel had rested until this afternoon. “I did really love that chain” She winked, as she had to him once before. This was not a student teacher interaction, this was a suggestion, a question to his searching. He took a step toward her and she held up a hand

“See you at training” and she turned, with every fibre of her being she kept walking toward the library. Willing him to watch her, to make a plan for the future to stop her from walking away. But not today. She was tired, she was wrung out and she did not trust herself to spend any more time with this male. He had opened too many doors within her to be careful of her wellbeing. She needed more time.

Azriel was old. He had bedded women across continents and had held a candle for Mor since he could remember wanting. Gwyn had him questioning any reaction that came to mind. Instead of those he just whispered “You will” He meant more than training tomorrow. He fully intended to show her what a thoughtful, evolved Illyrian male could evoke in a woman. She would not have a straw of fear left for him by the time she came to him ready to accept the necklace as truly hers.

#acotar #Gwynriel #Nessian #acosf #mating ceremony #Elriel #flying #Angsty #No Smut yet

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lyranova · 3 years

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You are Beautiful Pt. II

Hi guys~! So here’s part 2 of my greyche fic i posted yesterday, i wasn’t planning a part 2 but i thought this would be something fun lol! This one is safe for minors to read and you don’t have to read part 1 to understand this fic (i hope)! Anyway I hope you all enjoy this 🥰!

Word Count: 1,466

Warnings: Language (maybe?)

———

Gauche was walking through the streets of the Capital with purpose, he was very angry. Last night, a couple of women had told Grey that she was plain and not very attractive and it upset her a lot. It really pissed him off that those women felt it was ok to put someone down because, in their opinion, they weren’t ‘beautiful’. Even thinking about it now made his blood boil. After Grey had told him he made it his mission to make her feel beautiful that entire night, which, in his opinion, he succeeded at. Well, he hoped he did anyway. He felt Grey holding onto the back of his shirt as they walked, he asked her to come with him so she could point the women out to him.

“ This is where you were sitting right?” He asked as they came to the courtyard where they had set up the food stand. He felt Grey let go of his shirt before she moved to stand next to him.

“ Y-Yeah, but Gauche, do you really h-have to do this? I mean, I’m ok now.” She stammered as she grabbed his arm, she should’ve known better than to tell him. She didn’t want him to be upset and cause a scene, it would be very embarrassing!

“ Yes I do. Those hags need to learn that their opinion is just that: an opinion, not gospel.” He told her as he looked around, he saw an elderly man cleaning up some trash and he walked over to him.

“ Hey old man! Were you here last night?” Gauche shouted as he walked up to the man, Grey followed closely behind, although she stayed hidden behind him.

“ Yes I was, why? Did you lose something?” The old man asked patiently, not seeming to mind Gauche’s gruff attitude.

“ No we’re looking for two ha-i mean women,” Gauche all but spat those words out. “ they were sitting over there, talking about my girlfriend behind her back. I’d just like to know their names so they can apologize to her.” He added as he crossed his arms, the old man seemed to think for a moment.

“ Oh, you’re probably looking for the Carrion sisters. They’re a rotten bunch I’ll tell you that.” The old man shook his head, apparently this wasn’t the first time these girls mouths have gotten them into trouble.

“ Where can we find these Carrion sisters?” Gauche asked Grey peered around Gauche to also look at the old man.

“ Probably at their dress shop, it's just down that street. You can’t miss it.” The old man directed. Gauche nodded in thanks and headed in that direction, Grey following behind.

As they came upon the dress shop Gauche felt his blood boil even more, he was about to walk inside when Grey grabbed onto the back of his shirt.

“ Y-You don’t have to do this Gauche! You’ll get in trouble i-if you go in there like this! I’m not worth it.” Grey pleaded, she didn’t want him to go back to prison for defending her, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if that happened. Gauche turned slightly and looked at her.

“ Grey, you are worth it. If I get in trouble for telling two old hags how stupid their opinions are, than so be it. I’m not going to let anyone think it's ok to hurt you, that it's ok to make you feel unworthy, that it's ok to try and break all the confidence you built up. I won’t let them get away with it!” He told her, Grey felt herself blush. Even though he acted cold and uncaring, he was actually the opposite. At least with her anyway.

Gauche walked inside the dress shop and saw a woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties, at the counter. The woman looked up and instantly a smile appeared on her face, it looked like it was supposed to be a flirtatious smile but it failed miserably in Gauche’s mind.

“ Hello there, how can I help you?” She asked sweetly as she leaned on the counter. Gauche walked up to it.

“ Are you one of the Carrion sisters?” He asked as he crossed his arms, Grey hidden behind him still with her face covered.

“ Yes I am.” The woman confirmed with a nod.

“ Good. Is your sister here? I need to speak with you both.” Gauche told her in a surprisingly calm voice, Grey had figured he would have started blowing up by now.

“ Of course, let me go get her.” The woman walked away and went to the back of the shop, Gauche and Grey could hear whispers and soft giggles. Gauche was beyond irritated at this point. Both girls walked out and stood behind the counter.

“ I’m Alyssum Carrion, and this is my sister Trillium. What exactly can we do for you?” The one called Alyssum asked in a seductive sounding voice, Gauche visibly rolled his eyes. These two were unbelievable.

“ Firstly; there is absolutely nothing you two can do for me,” he started, his voice beginning to get louder. “ Secondly; you two disrespected my girlfriend, you called her ‘plain’, ‘unattractive’, and ‘small chested’. All of those things are untrue!” Grey was silently hoping the floor would suddenly open up and swallow her whole as Gauche continued.

“ I understand everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but yours is stupid. Very stupid. Putting down another girl because she doesn’t meet your definition of ‘beautiful’ is absolutely disgusting! If anything you two are the plain and unattractive ones. Anyone who thinks it’s ok to put others down for their looks in order to make themselves feel better is a low and poor excuse for a human being, especially when the person you’re putting down is my girlfriend!” Gauche all but yelled as he slammed his hands onto their counter, the smiles were wiped clean off the women’s faces.

“ You two, heh, you’re both pathetic. You think talking about someone behind their back makes you so big and special, well guess what? It doesn’t. It makes you small and insignificant. I know you both aren’t going to apologize for what you said to Grey, you’re too much of a coward. But, if I ever, and I mean ever hear you two say something about Grey again. I will come back here, and I will make sure those plastic heads of yours roll.” Gauche glowered down at the women, they were terrified. The more Gauche had spoken the louder he got, disgust had been laced in every single word he uttered, he found these women beyond disgusting.

Grey, on the other hand, was standing behind him, her face as red as one of the dresses on display. She was beyond embarrassed! Why did he always have to make a scene? Although she would admit hearing him call her his ‘girlfriend’ did warm her heart a bit.

“ C’mon Grey let’s go.” Gauche said as he turned around, he took Grey’s hand in his and he pulled her out of the dress shop, leaving the two women stunned.

“ W-Why’d you do that Gauche? I told you, i-it was ok!” Grey stammered as he led her through the crowd that had gathered outside the shop, apparently they could all hear Gauche shouting from outside. He sighed before stopping to look at her.

“ And I told you that I wasn’t going to let them get away with talking about you like that! Every word I said in there about them was true and you know it! Do you really think I’d let anyone talk about someone I love that way?!” Gauche shouted, causing everyone to look at them. But Grey didn’t even notice, she was too stunned by what he said; he loved her? She watched a blush creep onto his cheeks.

“ Y-You love me?” She asked softly, Gauche rubbed the back of his head nervously.

“ Of course I love you, did you honestly doubt that? Especially after last night?” He muttered. Last night was one of the best nights of Grey’s life, he made her feel so warm, so loved, so safe, and, just like he promised, oh so very beautiful.

Grey quickly wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face into his chest, she could tell this had surprised him as his body stiffened. But he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head.

“ I love you too Gauche! I promise, I’ll try to defend you just like you defended me!” She told him with a firm nod, causing him to chuckle softly.

——-

I’m sorry it fell apart towards the end but I still hope you guys enjoyed this! Thank you for reading and I hope you all have a good day 🥰~!

Taglist: @eme-eleff

#black clover #black clover fanfiction #greyche #grey x gauche #gauche x grey #gauche adlai #black clover grey

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deancas-fanfiction · 3 years

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A Daydream Away

Chapter 1/?

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

available on ao3 Read Ch. 2 Here

“I think I found us a case,” Sam announced, entering the Dean Cave with his nose buried in his laptop.

Dean sighed in irritation, pausing the movie he and Cas were in the middle of watching. “This better be good, if you’re interrupting our movie night. You know we’re in the middle of Half Blood Prince, and Cas hasn’t seen it.”

“Metatron did upload the movie content into my –” Cas argued, but stilled at Dean’s murderous glare.

“Being told what happens and actually experiencing it are two very different things, Cas. You have to experience it firsthand.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue but didn’t get the chance, as Sam interrupted him by loudly clearing his throat.

“Are you two done?” Sam looked at the two of them in irritation and Dean had to stifle a laugh at the almost stern expression on his face.

“Sorry, Sammy. The floor is yours. Tell us about your case.”

“Okay, so get this. There’s this resort called Grand View Lodge in Nisswa, Minnesota where couples have reportedly gone missing. In the past month, three couples have disappeared without a trace. No evidence of foul play and all of their personal belongings were left behind as were their vehicles. None of the other guests saw or heard anything.”

“That does sound suspicious,” Cas agreed. “Did the missing persons have anything in common?”

“All I can ascertain from the articles and social media posts is that the couples were very happily in love and were staying there on their honeymoon. But there isn’t a lot of information out there. I think we need to check it out, but we’ll need to pose as a couple if we want to gather information and attempt to lure whatever entity this is.”

“Go for it,” Dean shrugged. “When are you and Eileen leaving?” Dean noted the sudden look of discomfort on Sam’s face as he awkwardly shifted the laptop to his other hand.

“So that’s the thing…”

Dean groaned. “Of course. It’s never that simple.”

“Eileen is on a hunt in Ohio right now. She just got there, so she won’t be back in time.”

“What about Jody? Or Donna?”

Sam shook his head. “Neither can get off work. Claire and Kaia are both out on a hunt, too. That leaves just the three of us.”

“So…?”

“So, that means you and Cas will need to pose as newlyweds, and I can come as backup. The resort is looking for temporary help for the holiday season so I can work at the front desk and interview the employees for information, while you guys can lure the entity and interview the guests.”

Dean choked on his beer and barely managed to sputter out a response. “You want me…and Cas… to pose as a couple? Are you serious?”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Me and Cas will pose as a couple then, and you can get a job there. I just thought you’d prefer not to work at a customer service desk.”

Dean felt a flash of irritation surge through him at Sam’s suggestion. The idea of Sam and Cas posing as a couple left a bitter taste in his mouth. Imagining them holding hands or having a romantic dinner just the two of them caused him to involuntarily clench his teeth and form a fist. He wasn’t jealous. No really, he wasn’t. It just – wasn’t right, okay? Sam and Cas probably wouldn’t be able to even pull off posing as a couple. So really, for the sake of the case, Dean should agree to pair up with Cas. All for the sake of the case. That’s all.

Suddenly Deans thoughts consisted of posing as a couple with Cas. Well, not just a couple, but Cas’ husband. Dean’s mouth went dry and oh. Okay. That scenario suddenly seemed a lot more pleasant. They’d have to hold hands, but really, that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe add a few lingering touches and cutesy nicknames into the mix. But that shouldn’t be too bad, he’s used to Cas being in his personal space. In fact, he’s sort of grown accustomed to it at this point. Cas has always gravitated towards Dean’s personal space. While it was a mild irritation at first, it evolved into a comfort as it was something so expected. Besides, since Cas became human with the help of Jack, they’ve spent much more time together. Movie nights were nearly a nightly occurrence at this point. Their thighs always pressed against each other as they fight over the shared bowl of popcorn. Or in the mornings, when Dean rests his hand on Cas’ lower back for balance so he can reach a mug from the top shelf. Or when Dean tries to teach Cas how to properly play pool by standing behind him, helping him aim the cue. Really, the list goes on. So, pretending to be married shouldn’t be that much different than their current dynamic.

Huh. That’s a new revelation. Before that thought can cause too much panic, he buries it deep inside and ignores the way it made his stomach swoop. “No, no. You’re right.” Dean cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the way his voice sounded borderline frantic. “I would be a terrible employee. I would probably be fired for flirting with the guests or yelling at my boss.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, great. So, you and Cas can pose as newlyweds, just as I suggested. I’ll book the cabin and we’ll head out early in the morning.” He stomped out of the room and Dean mirrored his brother, rolling his eyes in return.

Cas wordlessly grabbed the remote and pressed play, leaning back into Dean as the movie resumed.

---

The next morning, they were on the road much too early, in both Dean and Cas' opinion. They stayed up later than was probably wise to finish their movie. Then Cas had questions, to which Dean had to patiently answer and suddenly it was nearly two in the morning. Meanwhile, Sam was bright eyed and happily sipping his thermos of coffee as he lowered himself into the Impala.

"Dean, if you wanted to keep sleeping I could --"

"Don't you dare." Dean warned. "I'm driving, now shut your mouth." He heard Sam sigh in response and turned the key, feeling the car rumble beneath him. He pulled out of the garage and turned onto the road, getting a start on the nine-hour drive to Nisswa.

The first hour of the drive was nearly silent. The radio played quietly in the background as all three occupants took the time to fully wake up. Every now and then Cas would nudge Dean's arm from the backseat, his silent way of asking for Dean's coffee. Dean would roll his eyes, but nevertheless pass him the thermos with a smile tugging at his lips.

The silence wasn't broken until Cas complained that Dean finished the coffee. This, of course, prompted into an argument over who was entitled to the last sip of the coffee, only to be broken by Sam's frustrated interjection.

"Guys. Cut it out. You can get more coffee when we stop for gas."

"Gas station coffee is not the same as bunker coffee."

"Yeah, they don't have almond milk at gas stations, Sam."

"See? Not the same." Dean chirped, enjoying teaming up with Cas against Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and changed the subject. "We should probably discuss the case in more detail before we arrive."

"What's left to discuss? Couples went missing while banging on their honeymoon. Probably a routine salt and burn of some pissed off ghost."

"Delicately put, jackass." Sam scoffed. "I was thinking, we should discuss your relationship with Cas."

"My what?" Dean's pulse quickened and he internally cursed his body for betraying him.

"Your relationship with Cas. You know, for the case. We need to come up with a back story so that way if someone asks how you met, Cas won't say 'I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.'"

"That is how we met, though." Cas insisted.

"Dude, you can't just tell people that!"

"We just need to think of a way to twist it, so it sounds normal." Sam explained. "So, for example, Dean could say he met Cas during a bad time in his life and Cas saved him."

"That's putting it lightly," Dean commented. "Cas? Does that work with you?"

"Fine."

"You're grumpy today." Dean observed, meeting Cas' eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I'm not grumpy. I'm tired. And I didn't get my full amount of coffee."

"You drank your whole thermos and half of mine. How much do you normally drink?"

"More than that."

"You have a caffeine addiction, you know that?"

"Well, at least you two already have the bickering of a married couple down." Sam half joked.

Dean rolled his eyes and focused back on the road; lips drawn into a straight line.

"What else do we need to cover?" Cas resigned, breaking the silence that once again settled over the car.

"Length of relationship."

"Ten years." Cas answered easily.

Sam pursed his lips. "Why don't we say you've been together for 5 years, and friends for the first 5. That will make you fit the same profile as the other missing couples a little more closely."

"Jesus, Sam. We'll be fine, we've been in situations like this before."

"I just don't want your cover blown. We have no one else to fill in. We need to discuss what your wedding was like, who proposed, how long you were engaged --"

Dean cut him off with a sharp look. "The wedding was small, just close family and friends. No one proposed, we both talked about it and together we agreed to get married. The engagement was short, less than a year. How's that for our cover?"

"That's great. Cas, did you get all that?"

"Yes. Can we stop and get more coffee now?"

"I thought gas station coffee wasn't good enough for you?"

"It's not. There's a Starbucks at this next exit. I saw a sign."

"Cas, we're not even halfway there yet. Dean's not going to stop yet."

But sure enough, Dean was already turning towards the exit, cataloguing the way Cas' lips turned up at the corner.

The remaining hours of the trip passed rather quickly. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to his Zeppelin tape, Sam read lore in preparation of the case, and Cas happily watched the passing snow-clad landscape while sipping on his venti coffee.

As they neared the town of Nisswa, the scenery gave way from a frozen landscape with nothing but bare trees and the occasional truck stop to boutique shops, rustic restaurants, and log-cabin-like structures that served as hotels and cafes. As they neared their turn off the highway, Sam requested to be dropped off in town so he could secure a car rental and check into his own hotel. Sam would be interviewing for the seasonal front desk position early the next morning, so he couldn't be seen arriving with Dean and Cas.

"Oh! Before I forget --" Sam paused after stepping out of the Impala and dug around in his bag. He retrieved two gold bands and handed one to Dean and Cas. "Your wedding rings."

Dean slipped his on and scowled at his brother. "Where did you get these?"

"A pawn shop," Sam said sheepishly. "I grabbed them when I went out on a supply run last night. Don't lose them - I'm pretty sure they're actually gold."

"It's probably a knock off and will turn our fingers green."

"No, Sam is right," Cas observed. He held the ring close to his face, carefully scrutinizing it. "It's 24k gold. It's actually quite good quality."

"Thank you, Cas." Sam said pointedly. "You two better get going and check in. I made your reservation under "Smith." I'll be at the resort tomorrow morning for my interview. I made a very persuasive resume so I should be hired no problem. Just keep your phones on you and check in with me occasionally, yeah?"

"I know how to do my job, Sam. Cas and I will get settled in then we'll talk to some of the guests at breakfast tomorrow morning. Don't worry about us. Worry about your interview," Dean said with a wink. "Cas, you've been upgraded to shotgun, let's go."

With that, Sam stepped away from the car, making room for Cas to climb in. "Be careful, guys."

"Yeah, you too," Dean replied. Cas then shut the door and Dean pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway. "You ready for this?"

Cas nodded, fidgeting with the gold band on his finger. "We met 10 years ago and started dating 5 years ago. A few months ago, we decided to get married and we had a small wedding with our closest family and friends. Now we're on our honeymoon."

"Yeah, that - that's good."

Dean cautiously glanced over at Cas. His hair was tousled from leaning against the window, with the left side matted down and the right side sticking straight out. He had an air of contentment radiating from him, no doubt from the dangerously high levels of caffeine racing through him. Since becoming human, Cas formed a very dependent relationship with both coffee and sleep. Sleeping became his favorite pastime as he was finally able to experience dreams. However, that meant he would often sleep for the better part of the morning, only begrudgingly getting out of bed when Dean would pound on his door to inform him breakfast, and more importantly coffee, was ready. Even then, Cas would be grumpy until he was halfway through his second cup of coffee.

Dean would never admit it to anyone, but he always enjoyed his morning routine with Cas. Cas would silently sit at the table, watching Dean dish up breakfast. Dean would slide a fully loaded plate of eggs and bacon towards him and watch as he took his first bite. Cas would always groan in appreciation (which okay, maybe Dean enjoyed that part a little too much, but he would never admit to that either) and then Dean would refill Cas's mug. At that point Sam would enter the kitchen, just back from his run and openly making a disgusted face at the heaping pile of bacon on Dean's plate. Ignoring him, Dean would sit next to Cas, and Cas would scoot closer to Dean, soaking in his body heat due to the endless cold draft in the bunker. That's the only reason Dean would lean back into him. No other reason, whatsoever, regardless of the knowing look on Sam's face.

Dean ended his train of thought there and signaled for the coming turn which featured a large stone sign with "Grand View Lodge" neatly printed on it. The road was illuminated by string lights and lanterns along it and Dean could see cabins in the trees along the road, with warm yellow lights illuminating the darkness around them. The Impala's headlights shone on a sign directing them towards the main lodge for check-in. The resort grounds seemed beautiful and very quiet. Dean could understand why it was a popular destination for newlyweds. The cold winter air made the glowing cabins seem all the cozier. He could imagine the resort in the summer, filled with families and children running towards the lake with sunscreen and beach towels in tow. It would be quite the opposite than it is now, in mid-December with below zero temps and not a single person in sight.

The first sign of life they saw was the dozen cars parked outside of the main lodge for check in, otherwise no one was out of their cabins. "It's going to be hard to talk to the guests when it's this cold. No one will want to leave their cabin." Dean frowned.

"Sam said there's an optional itinerary over the weekend for all of the guests. We'll have to sign up for some activities so we can interview them."

Dean sighed. "As long as it involves free food, I'm in." He put the car in park and traded the warmth for the frigid cold. It was a sharp cold that hurts your lungs as you breathe it in. It was the kind of cold that you don't spend time in unless you have to. Dean pulled the jacket tight against him and motioned for Cas to follow him inside.

The main lodge was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The interior was covered in dark wood, with large leather couches set in front of a roaring stone fireplace. A small gift shop was off to the side and there were large rustic chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Dean could hear silverware clattering and subdued conversation which hinted to the presence of a restaurant down the hall. The front desk was near the doors and they quickly approached to check in.

"Good evening," The receptionist beamed. Her name tag identified her as Brenda. "Welcome to Grand View Lodge. Have either of you stayed with us before?"

"No, Ma'am," Dean responded, leaning against the desk.

"Well, welcome!" She said cheerfully. Dean could already anticipate that she and Sam will get along perfectly once he’s hired. "Here's a map of the resort grounds for your reference. It shows all of our cabins and the four restaurants we have on site. You can dine in or order room service. All of that information is on the back of the map. Now, can I get the name your reservation is under?"

"Dean Smith."

Brenda typed in the name and clicked a few times then looked up at Dean and Cas grinning. "You should have mentioned you were on your Honeymoon! Congratulations, love birds!" Dean felt his face heat up and avoided eye contact with Cas. 'Minnesota Nice' was very real and it was making Dean very uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Dean choked out. "Could we get our keys now? We just had a really long drive and we're tired."

"Oh, of course! I don't want to delay your honeymoon activities," she stated not-so-subtly. She opened a drawer and handed Dean two key cards. Then she grabbed their resort map and circled their cabin number.

"Do you have a list of activities you offer?" Cas questioned.

"Oh! Yes! This weekend we offer both wine and bourbon tasting, depending on your preferences. We also offer couples' cooking classes, and our spa is open for couples' massages. I see you’re staying for a week so here's a pamphlet of all the activities we're offering this month," She explained as she handed over a brochure. "We also have an ice rink which is open until 8pm and free to all guests."

Cas opened his mouth to assumingely ask a question that would only drag out the check-in process, so Dean interrupted him.

"Great, thank you. We appreciate your help," He then grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him back into the cold.

"She seemed nice," Cas observed.

"Too chipper. Sam will love her."

Cas laughed at that. It was the kind of laugh that shows his perfectly white teeth and makes his eyes slightly crinkle. It was the kind of laugh that was Dean's absolute favorite.

Dean glanced at the map, noting where to drive to get to their cabin. It appeared to be a short drive from the main lodge. He started the car and turned back onto the gravel road they entered on. Following the signs, they were led along a winding road towards the south end of the grounds, where the now frozen lake is located. The trees were dense, and the cabins were growing sparser as they continued along the road. At last, they pulled up to a quaint log cabin that matched the number on their keys. The cabin had large windows and a wrap-around porch that would be perfect to utilize in the summer and fall. The porch light was on, illuminating the front yard which was littered with large pine trees.

He put the Impala in park, and they grabbed their bags out of the backseat. The night was still and silent. There were no lights except for those on the porch. A large expanse of stars and sky nearly took Dean’s breath away. Growing up, Dean would always take solace in the night sky littered with millions of stars. With the ever-constant change of living on the road, the stars were always there. When John would drink too much or be gone too long on a hunt thereby forcing Dean to parent Sam, he would step outside of their usual run-down motel and take a deep breath, taking in the stars. As they got older and Sam’s nerd tendencies began to develop, he would tell Dean all about the constellation. They’d sit on the sidewalk with their backs against the brick motel and Sam would just talk. He’d point out the shapes in the stars and talk about the history and the namesakes behind each one. It was a most welcoming distraction from the constant shit in Dean’s life.

Even now, as he looks up at the brilliant set of stars unhindered by city lights, Dean can’t help but feel grateful for where his life is. Sure, his kid is basically God. And he’s helplessly in love with his best friend who was an angel but is now a human and probably doesn’t feel the same way about him and now he has to pretend to be his husband at a romantic resort, which can only go poorly. Then there’s the fact that his mom was dead, then she was alive, and then she was dead again. Really, just piles and piles of trauma that he’s had to deal with. But God, Dean still feels lucky. Because he has a family. He has Sam, Cas, Jack, Eileen, Jody and the girls. During those years growing up he always assumed he’d be dead before living a life like this.

A gust of wind whips across the yard, stinging all exposed skin which pulls Dean out of his spiraling thoughts. Cas is mirroring Dean from moments ago, also gazing up at the night sky. “I’ve been alive for so long yet the beauty and wonders of this life will never cease to amaze me.” Cas simply states, as if that wasn’t the most poetic shit to ever come out of someone’s mouth.

At a loss for words, Dean clasps Cas’ shoulder and leads him through the snow and into the cabin. He unlocks the door and welcomes the immediate warmth radiating from inside the cabin. The cabin is incredibly cozy. The walls are a dark wood, with leather sofas next to a large electric fireplace and a big fluffy rug. The kitchen is off of the living room, which on a normal occasion would be perfect to cook some proper meals. Then there is a beautiful wooden table in the dining room with dim lighting that would be perfect for a romantic meal. Dean cut off that dangerous train of thought before it went anywhere that made this situation even more complicated.

Speaking of complicated, Cas was no longer by Dean’s side. Frowning, he walked down the hallway that led towards the bathroom and bedroom. It was in the bedroom that he found Cas hovering in the doorway and oh.

Oh.

There was a king size bed in the center of the room with rose petals scattered over it. An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne rested in the center of the bed with a box of chocolate next to it.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Cas looked at Dean questioningly. “Who?”

“Sam. He told them it was our honeymoon! Then this happened.” He gestured at the array of items in the room.

“I see no problem with this behavior. They needed to know we were on our honeymoon for the sake of the case. And we got free champagne and sweets. Usually, you’re all about the free stuff.”

Dean sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just – never mind. It’s late and I’ve been driving all day. Guess I’m tired.” Cas just nodded and set his bag down. “So, uh –” Dean started, rubbing his hand over his face. “Want me to take the couch tonight? We can switch off every night or something.”

“Dean,” He sighed. ”You said yourself that you’re getting too old to be sleeping on couches and pull outs. Hence, the memory foam in the bunker. Besides, we’re playing the role of a newlywed couple this weekend. We should probably keep up with appearances and not make it seem like we’re already sleeping in separate beds like unhappy middle-aged couples who are too stubborn to admit they need a divorce.”

Dean barked out a surprised laugh. He loves when Cas goes on his weird tangents. “Yeah, okay Cas. That bed is huge, so it shouldn’t be a problem anyway.”

Cas just nodded and began digging around in his duffel bag. Meanwhile, Dean removed the ice bucket with champagne from the bed and set it on the dresser. Then he brushed off as many rose petals as he could, determined to clear the bed of any romantic connotation. When he was satisfied, he began stripping out of his jeans and flannel. It was a long day of driving and his body was no longer accustomed to sitting for so long, so he was ready for bed at this point.

Dean stopped mid-action, catching sight of Cas doing the same. Cas removed his jeans and then lifted his shirt over his head. Dean swallowed, trying to

tear his eyes away from his best friend’s body but holy shit – Cas is toned. As he bent over to put his discarded clothes back in his bag, the muscles in his back and legs jumped out. His golden skin was completely on display and as a result Dean’s brain was short circuiting. Panicking, he grabbed his toothbrush and locked himself in the bathroom as an attempt to get his breathing and body back under control.

So much for uncomplicated.

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #deancas #deancas fanfic #fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural #fake relationship #team free will #destiel fluff #eventual smut

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that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick · 3 years

Text

Summary: Winry sat in the optimal place to study in the school cafe for the entire fall semester. Then spring came, and suddenly some self-entitled twit who dressed like off-brand Gerard Way decided it was his territory. He was so not going to get off easy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k words of coffee shop/college AU with a side of enemies to almost-lovers

A/N: It's finals week, I posted this on Ao3 at almost 5am, and if the rest of the sentence didn't make it obvious, I'm writing from unfortunate experience. Not beta-ed or proofread, although I happened to see one thing to fix when I woke up this morning. Feel my raw power. Rawr.

It wasn't that big a deal.

It kind of really was, though.

Every Thursday morning during the fall semester, Winry sat in the same spot at the same school coffee shop. It was the spot sent by the entire patron pantheon of cram papers. Maybe one person didn't need an entire booth, but it was in the corner, and the tops of the bench seats had opaque plastic barriers that just so happened to be perfect for minimizing excess visual chaos. For the most part, there weren't loud conversations, and the jazz music that came through the speakers helped her tune out people ordering coffee. Add to that the fact that she could use campus flex dollars and not her own bank account that was begging for mercy, and it was the perfect spot to get papers done.

But apparently not this spring.

As soon as Winry walked in, she noticed him in the corner. Some emo wannabe guy on his computer. Probably on Reddit complaining about how women didn't appreciate the amazing pics he sent them on Tinder. Or at least, it was a fair guess based on the sour look on his face. Why did this guy of all people have to steal the holy grail spot? Ugh. She was still gonna get her coffee, darn it.

"You know the deal, Sciezska. Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer."

"On it! You paying in flex?"

"Yeah." She scanned her student ID and lowered her voice. "Who's off-brand Gerard Way in the corner?"

"Who's Ger—"

"The punk kid."

"Ohhh. I can try to get his number for you, if you want."

"No, he looks like a total tool! And not the kind I like dealing with!"

"Which means you think he's hot. I didn't think you were into that type, but you're not wrong."

"For the last time, no, Sciezska! He took my spot! And I'm trying very, very hard to keep this to a stage whisper, but if you keep trying to set me up with some random creep, I won't be able to!"

A distinctly male voice grumbled, "I'm not a creep."

"Keep telling that to the girls on Tinder. I'm sure they'll understand eventually."

"Yeah, and I'll bet if you look at your 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign a little more, you'll understand it eventually." He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Lay off, it's eight in the morning. I said the only reason I even have a Tinder account is because my roommate stole my phone while I was going to the bathroom."

"Well, if you didn't want it, why didn't you delete it?"

"Eh, I figured if I really got sick of being single one day, it'd already be there."

"Never would have guessed you were single," Winry said dryly.

"Come on, it's way too early to be rubbing that kind of crap in. Who says I'm not fine with being single anyway?"

Sciezska timidly spoke up. "Medium roast with espresso and vanilla creamer?"

Winry thanked her as red jacket boy continued. "'Edward Elric, Bachelor.' Almost sounds as good as 'Edward Elric, Bachelor of Science.'"

"B.S. degree. Sounds about right."

"About time you stopped acting like I'm an idiot!"

Winry snorted. "That's not what I meant."

"Hey!"

"And with that, I'm going to go find some other spot to write my paper."

Edward, as his name apparently was, scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "good riddance". Maybe the librarians wouldn't get on her case too much for bringing in coffee.

-----

A week later, Winry walked into the cafe, assuming the circumstances of the previous week were an anomaly. They were not.

"Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer," she grumbled and sulked in the direction of the corner seat.

"Hey, don't start with me again, blondie. I've had a whopping four hours of sleep and I can't promise you'll like what comes out of my mouth."

"We're at a coffee shop. Get some coffee. I can't help it if you're too hung over to be polite."

"Now look, genius. I did not stay up until 4 A.M. working on a stupid chem paper for that sadistic pyromaniac excuse for a professor just for some random chick to accuse me of being hung over."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And for your information, coffee doesn't really help me wake up. It just helps me focus on homework." He lifted up his empty cup and gave it a shake.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"ADHD is a weird thing, and yet, here I am."

"Huh, interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pick up where I left off with the same stupid ten page paper I started last night."

"Oh right. Sure," Winry stammered. "Listen, I'm really sorry I just assumed things about you. It was wrong of me, and I'd like to make it up to you, if that's okay."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well...I could look over your paper once you're done writing it? I've got a paper of my own to write while I'm waiting, and I can sit right across the table here so you don't have to come get me. I won't try to talk to you or anything. Neither of us need that kind of distraction."

"Alright, alright. Get your coffee and sit down. The girl at the counter's been up there waiting for a good minute or two while you've been at confessional over here."

"Wait, she has?" Winry's eyes widened, and Edward laughed at her expense. He was kind of attractive when he wasn't scowling...wait what? She pouted and got up to retrieve her coffee. When Winry returned, she plopped down on the bench opposite Edward and opened her laptop. Peeking out from behind it, she added, "By the way, I'm Winry. I figured you ought to at least know the name of the person who's proofreading your paper."

"Well, Winry, you're the one who volunteered." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. The two worked on their assignments in silence, occasionally speaking up when necessary.

-----

Edward was in the corner again the next week as well.

"Hey, Edward! Mind if I join you for homework again?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but you didn't bother me too much last week, so you might as well." He turned away slightly.

"Great! Have you gotten your coffee yet? I didn't see a cup, and you got something the last two times."

"Eh, I haven't been here long. If you're going up and getting yours, would you mind ordering a caramel macchiato for me?" He asked, sliding his ID across the table.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be back in a sec."

She returned and slipped his ID back before pulling out her computer. "Do you have anything for me to look over this time?"

"Not this week. But if you have anything you need looked over, I can do that, too."

"Actually, I do, if you wouldn't mind."

"Winry, I just volunteered. Just send the paper to my school email. Mine's 'elricedwa'," he instructed as he proceeded to spell it.

"Medium roast and a caramel macchiato?" Sciezska called out.

"Coming!" Winry replied and turned to Edward. "I just sent it, so you should be able to start while I'm getting our stuff." Eyes glued to his laptop, Edward gave a thumbs up.

Once she returned with their drinks, Winry sat down and wordlessly set Edward's drink next to him.

"Thanks," he muttered distantly. His lips mirrored the words he was reading. Though his lips weren't plump by any stretch of the imagination, they were shapely. His steely concentration made the air leave Winry's lungs. To top it all off, the first rays of sunlight came through the window just right, hitting Edward's hair in a way that made it positively glow.

What was she thinking? Those were only the sorts of things people thought when they had a crush. She'd only had two positive interactions with him, including this one. ...well, maybe it was a crush. She could certainly do worse than someone with a questionable fashion sense. After all, he worked hard, and he got good grades, if the quality of his writing was any indication. Okay, fine. He was also drop dead gorgeous, if you could see past his clothing choices. Yeah, she had a crush.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"...no."

"Figures. I finished reading your paper. It's not bad, I just left a few suggestions for sentence structure. Now I am going to enjoy my caramel macchiato." He took off the lid and breathed in the steam with his eyes closed, nearly drooping into the cup in content. When he opened his eyes slowly, Winry was awestruck by the similarity between the color of his eyes and his drink.

"What?" Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. At all. Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged. She reopened the document and went through his suggested edits. Gnawing her lip in concentration, she leaned forward a bit to settle in and tackle the editing.

"...hey, uh, Winry?" Edward gulped. "Are you going to drink your coffee?"

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks, Edward!" she smiled.

"No–no problem. And you can call me Ed, you know. Most people do. Except for that excuse for a professor that calls me pipsqueak. Can you believe he's my advisor? I mean, come on, I'm a grown man. I'm not that short."

Winry made a poor attempt at containing her laughter. "Okay then, Ed. Prove it. Stand up."

"Fine." He slid out of the booth and stood. Winry followed suit and appraised their respective heights.

"Well, I'd hardly call you tall, but you're at least taller than me by a few inches, for whatever that's worth."

Edward grinned as if he had won some sort of prize. "Time for shorties to sit down now!"

"Watch it now. You're not too far from that label yourself, mister."

They both returned to their positions in the booth and worked steadily for the next hour. At the end of that time, Winry closed her laptop. "Ed, are you okay? You seem distracted."

"ADHD. I'm always distracted," he dismissed.

"No, like, are you sick or something? You did get more than four hours of sleep this time, right?"

"No comment." Ed's mouth twitched. He mumbled barely loud enough to hear, "Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can drive you over to the health center."

"N-no. That's not it." He exhaled, then slid a napkin across the table. His hands trembled slightly. "Anyway, here's my number. In case you need me to look over a paper. Or whatever. I've got a class soon."

Winry blushed, but tucked the napkin in her laptop. "Thanks, Ed. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

-----

Winry: This goes with your major, right?

Edward: Blocked

#fma #fma fanfic #503 day #when i wrote it it was probably still 503 day somewhere #edwin #edward elric #winry rockbell #fma sciezska #fma sheska #my writing #my fic #coffee shop au #college au

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sothischickshe · 3 years

Note

Great picks! But I actually meant fanfic authors

Oh lollll see this is why you've gotta be specific 😂

ok so i thought there’d be more elements to this matrix, but i think a couple of them cancel each other out? liiiike, i think i pretty much know what my fave stories are (and i even know who wrote them, go me), but a lot of those authors havent written thaaaat much stuff and/or aren’t writing gg ff any more, and im a greedy bitch yknow? but on the seventh foot, i guess it adds to the ~Mystique yknow? so!

fireinsideforfun

cons: only two stories

pros: both stories disgustingly iconic, one of which is a WIP and so you get coveted update excitement swiping at you out of nowhere!

@ohmisterjapan / ohmisterjapan

cons: hasn’t posted anything in a while which is fine but i do hope they return to the fandom one day

pros: every story is amazing

@johnisntevendead / convolutedConcussion

cons: seems to have left the fandom :( and im greedy :(

pros: the RANGE! gorgeous writing, great comedy & amazing smut

@septiembur / septiembre

cons: cannot be trusted. you’ll hear nothing for ‘months’ and then suddenly there’ll be five fics!! cannot be good for your blood pressure.

pros: got basically all the angst our of her system in her first (PERFECT) fic then made a habit of writing established relationship brio where they��re still pointy and annoying. wrote beth concussing rio really adorably?! blatantly loves nonsense more than even me. will slowly edge beth and rio into the background to focus on jane instead bc she’s more interesting.

mintletters16

cons: only 3 fics, one is a WIP. hasnt posted for a long time :(

pros: the RANGE! and all 3 fics are perfect

thatbluenote

cons: only 3 fics. hasnt posted for a long time :(

pros: three fucking perfect fics. When we fall asleep particularly lives in my head rent free

odenkirk

cons: only 1 fic

pros: it’s like offensively good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@betterhomesandhobbits / EnsignDisaster

cons: wrote a fic abt a film which i still havent seen, which i consider to be rude

pros: the RANGE!!!!!!! BUDDY THE DOG POV, HELLO!!!!

@hypermania / prettylittlementirosa

cons: has to be bullied to put tumblr prompts on ao3

pros: the RANGE!!!! annie/nancy, rio/turner beth/rio, all gorgeous

entitled

cons: only one gg fic and it’s a WIP and they havent updated it in a long time :( :( :(

pros: it’s so fucking good though

hereliesbethboland

cons: has left the fandom & deleted all the stories :( :( :(

pros: they were really good though

cons: very sleepy

pros: caters very specifically to my interests

#what #i said i was greedy #nbc good girls #tv #fanfiction #fanfic

46 notes · View notes

eloarei · 3 years

Text

Hiatus’d WIPs: “Touch” (bnha)

I recently had a conversation with a friend/reader about how many unfinished fics I have lying around, and it made me decide to finally make a post for each one; under the assumption that I never write any of them again, I can at least link these posts at the end of the AO3 WIPs for people who are curious how the rest of the story goes. So here we have: WIP and notes for Dekumight fic series “Touch” (including unfinished next chapter) My thoughts: This was really one of my favorites for a while. There was something really fun about writing the sort of non-verbal communication they had going on, and the deep love and also awkwardness. However, the actual story of the fic doesn’t differ much from the canon plot, which makes it a little less interesting to write, and also difficult to pick up, because frankly I don’t remember shit anymore about canon. Under the cut: (8,300 words total) 3,000 words of what would be the next chapter (ending about halfway through), then a rough draft of the second half of the chapter. After that, there’s a super-rough draft/ outline of the next several chapters, followed by a bunch of notes from when I was initially planning. NOTE: Tumblr completely destroyed all formatting, so this should be full of italics, which implies thinking, but instead you’ll just have to puzzle it out. Similarly, my notes have a bunch of bolding and some strikethrough, which probably doesn’t work either. Sorry.

Takes place directly after “Retouch” (chapter 2) :

Chapter 3

It was just a few minutes later that Toshinori was hit with a spike of pleasure that he really shouldn't have been surprised by. He was finishing up some paperwork for UA though and wouldn't be getting ready for bed for a while, so instead of following through with the echo of Izuku's intense sensation, he just took a deep calming breath and willed himself to leave it alone. However, he did take a moment to send Izuku a well-timed text saying simply, | Sleep tight |. He still wasn't sure if the boy was aware of what he was doing to him, but he figured he'd just tip him off a little bit instead of asking outright. Not yet.

Izuku responded with a cute, embarrassed | ^^; you too |, and Toshinori laughed. So he hadn't expected to be called out on it, huh? Well, they could talk about it later; maybe over the weekend, if Suzuki's papers didn't scare him off. (And even then they'd probably still want to talk about at least a few things. Even if Izuku suddenly wanted nothing to do with him, even if they never saw each other again (a chilling thought), they'd still be affecting each other like this for the rest of their lives. It warranted at least a short conversation.)

Most likely, though... Most likely it would be a long conversation they'd be having, if Toshinori's impression of Inko was anything to go by. If it were just him and Izuku, who knew if they'd ever do much serious talking. It was far too tempting to just sit side by side with their hands tangled together and feel. So, it was probably good that Izuku's mother had such a strong hand in the situation-- and it was definitely good for both of them that she was such a reasonable woman. He knew she would probably bring up all the right topics (the things he still hadn't really researched; Suzuki wasn't going to be pleased with his ignorance), and ask all the right questions, and be super tactful about the whole thing, so he didn't fret about it, focusing instead on just getting through the week.

Easier said than done, he'd have told you, if you asked him at any point during those next few days, but eventually it was done, and he was standing outside the Midoriyas' apartment door with a briefcase in one hand and the other poised to knock. But before he could make a sound, the door opened, and Izuku was standing there, looking up at him with the brightest eyes.

“Hi,” he said, the simple word both enthusiastic and shy. His smile was impossibly wide, sending his freckles up into his eyes. “I, um, I could tell you were there,” he answered, before Toshinori could even ask how he'd known to open the door. Without further ado, Izuku reached out and took his hand, leading him into the apartment. They both breathed deep, relieved sighs as soon as they touched. Three days had just been too much.

Inside, Inko was doing dishes. “Oh, Toshinori, hi,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “I'll be done here in just a minute. Izuku said you have some papers for us to look at?”

“At my manager's insistence,” he explained. Guided by Izuku, he took a seat next to him at the kitchen table, their hands still joined, and set the briefcase up where his other hand could find what he needed. He pulled the stack of papers out and set them in the middle of the table.

“How's your week been?” Izuku asked quietly, as they waited for Inko to join them.

“It's been fine,” Toshinori answered, though the emotion rolling around in his chest said 'I missed you', and he was fairly sure Izuku could feel it.

The boy squeezed his hand at the feeling and replied, “Me too,” in response to the unspoken sentiment.

Drying her hands off on a dishtowel, Inko sat down across from them and gave the pair of them an appraising (but ultimately approving) look, before she slid the stack of papers over to her. “What have we got here?” she asked, apparently rhetorically, as she didn't wait for Toshinori to attempt to explain. She read through each page carefully and then passed it over to Izuku, who seemed mildly surprised but also read each one before sliding it over to Toshinori. (He skimmed them again for familiarity's sake, but he'd already read through them in detail with Suzuki a day or two before.)

Other than a 'hmm' here and there, Inko didn't make any comments until they were through the entire stack, which took about an hour. (Although she did stop to tell Toshinori to make himself at home, when she realized he might be thirsty or something.) It was a very quiet hour, and it would have been unnerving for Toshinori if he hadn't still had Izuku latched onto him, feeding him wisps of emotion as he read.

Once they'd gone through the whole stack, Inko started over from the beginning, and began to point out little details here and there and ask questions.

“I think most of it is reasonable enough,” she said. “We're not entitled to any of your income or royalties; that's fine. And we can't talk to the media about you. I'm alright with that. Izuku?”

Izuku nodded. “That's okay. I wasn't going to.”

“But this part here--” She pointed at it. “--says we're not allowed to tell anyone about the situation at all unless we have express written permission. That seems sort of... broad.”

Toshinori looked at the passage that Inko had indicated. “Uh, right. I told Suzuki I didn't think it was necessary, but he claims it's a safety precaution.”

“For you,” Inko said, and she did sound accusatory, but not overly much. “What happens if we break the contract? Suing us won't get you very much.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Toshinori tried to say, but Inko continued on.

“What if we need to tell someone and you're not around to give us permission? Like, Izuku's doctors? It just seems unreasonable. Dangerous, even. I get that you want to protect your status, but--”

Toshinori could feel Izuku begin to speak before he could hear the sound. “It's fine, mom,” he said. “It's not just for him. It's to protect us too. Remember that story a couple years ago? There was that lady who was kidnapped by villains because they thought they could use her to get to her husband?”

Inko pursed her lips, a slightly sour face. She clearly remembered the story, and how the woman had been tortured just to hurt her husband. Toshinori remembered it too; it had made him sick. It would have made anyone sick, especially anyone who was close to their soulmate.

“That's probably what Mr. Suzuki was thinking of,” Izuku added softly, and Toshinori could tell that he didn't quite believe in Suzuki's altruism (hard for him to, when he could feel Toshinori's own skepticism about the man), but that he did still believe the reasoning was fair.

A bit subdued, Inko nodded. “Well of course we won't go around telling everyone. I... just think it's a little silly to have to get it in writing like this.”

“You're right,” Toshinori said, shaking his head. “Leave that one, then. I'll get Suzuki to take it out.”

It went like that for another hour or so, Inko pointing out things she wasn't sure about and Toshinori mostly telling her to just cross them out, because honestly, Suzuki was going to be pissed, but who cared? There was no one in the world who mattered more right now than Izuku, and that necessarily made his mother pretty important too. Toshinori would do whatever it took to make them comfortable, and his manager could just deal with it.

By the time they were done, they'd tossed out about half of the papers and scratched through parts of most of the rest of them, and were left with a reasonable list of promises that read roughly like this:

The Midoriyas could not talk to the media about All Might, and they couldn't knowingly do anything that would jeopardize his career, and Izuku couldn't act in any way that would hinder All Might's ability to do his job as a hero. That was pretty much it, though the basic meaning was hidden in so many superfluous details that it had their heads spinning.

As for Toshinori, he would not infringe upon the Midoriyas' anonymity, or use his status to coerce or extort them in any way, and he would be responsible for any financial issues that resulted from their connection (including, but not limited to, doctor's bills and lawyer's fees).

Honestly though, they all knew that these were pretty moot points. If Izuku or his family broke any of these rules, there was really nothing that All Might's lawyers could do about it. And if All Might failed to uphold his end of the bargain, the Midoriyas could take him to court for it, but it would be inviting far more trouble than it was worth.

More than anything, though, they trusted each other enough for this whole paper-signing situation to be mostly just laughable. Getting the papers to Suzuki was not a high priority (well, he might have thought so, but he was a failure of a manager if he actually expected such a quick turnaround, after all these years), so Toshinori didn’t hurry off, instead offering to take the two out for lunch. “Oh, thank you, Toshinori,” Inko said sweetly, “but I’ve got some work to finish up. Why don’t you two go out and take advantage of the nice day?” At his elbow, Toshinori could feel Izuku’s slight surprise echoing against his own. Although Inko had only been supportive so far, they still couldn’t help expecting that she was going to try to keep them apart-- though maybe they were just projecting their reasonable fears about society onto the only other person who knew just yet. But whether or not she might be more strict about them seeing each other in the future, she seemed fine with it just now, and they were grateful. “Thanks,” Izuku told her with a sunny grin, while Toshinori nodded in agreement. “Want us to bring you anything?” Inko shook her head. “Just be back before it’s late! And stay safe!” They promised they’d be careful (in every possible way), and left the apartment together, walking close by but with their hands in their respective pockets-- the safest place for them, when they would have wandered if left to their own devices, gravitated naturally toward each other and the fulfilling feeling they provided. “So what did you think of the papers?” Toshinori asked, a relevant icebreaker to start conversation once they were on their way. “I hope they didn’t seem too strict.” Izuku grinned, and drifted close enough to bump their arms together. “They seemed fine,” he said, apparently unbothered by them. “Honestly, I’d sign whatever I had to. It’s already crazy that I even got to meet you. So, whatever I have to do now… I’ll do it.” That smile was an absolute slice of sunshine, and if Toshinori wasn’t warm just by their proximity, it would have done the job.

They wandered for some time, down towards the city center where they might find something for lunch (maybe something other than ramen, so they could expand the list of foods they knew they both liked), chatting a little. The topics were never anything consequential; Toshinori thought Izuku was still a little nervous around him and wasn’t sure what to say. He understood the feeling, even without a physical link, rather feeling that way himself. But Izuku also had the natural anxiousness of the young and quirkless (he remembered feeling that way), so Toshinori tried to guide the conversation in comfortable directions. Heroes were always a safe topic, and one with no end of iterations. They’d walked a few casual miles, keeping their attention slightly on their surroundings in case a good restaurant caught their eye, and were in the middle of discussing Kamui Woods when something else caught their attention. In the distance a block or so, there was a crowd gathered, their exclamations and worried murmurs rising to a concerning pitch just as an explosion shook the area. Many of the citizens shrieked and ran for cover, but plenty of them were still huddled around in a nervous fashion, like people observing either a train wreck or a predator from which prey could have no hope of escaping. Toshinori became aware of Izuku latching on to his arm more than he strictly felt it, the young man’s concern bleeding over into him and mixing with his own. He could feel Izuku’s natural empathy coming strong through the connection, something he’d only glimpsed the times before. There was something happening nearby, something that frightened and worried everyone; should he help? What could he even do? Should he stay out of the way? After all, they’d only just found each other, and to lose Toshinori now would be devastating; to be found out might be even worse! Izuku would hate himself if he ruined All Might’s career by causing a scandal, but he couldn’t just sit back if someone was in danger and, ahh, if only he had powers, if only he could do more than cling and be a burden to his soulmate and-- Oh, Toshinori thought. These were not his fears; they were Izuku’s. It was Izuku’s desire to help whoever might be in trouble, his desire and his desire and that was right, he wanted to help too. Of course he did. He was a hero, wasn’t he? There was only so worried he could be for his own safety and his reputation and Izuku shouldn’t worry either because it would be okay and I am here and it was amazing-- he really was the right one for him. The perfect soulmate, and maybe something more, but that was something he could think of later. The screams were louder now, and the worried murmurs too, and as an explosion shook the windows of a building half a block down they agreed they couldn’t turn away, not when there was a chance they could do something, anything. Even if there was no power left, it was still his duty, and he didn’t have to do this but yes he did. “You’re at your limit?” Izuku asked, glancing up at him through his fluffy bangs, concern bleeding out of him through more than just their physical connection. It couldn’t have been much more than a guess, but from his expression Toshinori could see that Izuku somehow knew it, like an intuition.

He nodded. “Essentially,” he replied. He wasn’t sure how to explain it in detail, but hoped a more nuanced understanding of it would flow through their bond. “I always have a reserve amount, but it’s… not much.” Izuku seemed to get it. “Maybe we can just… go see, if there’s something we can do.” That seemed fair; that seemed like the least they could do. Maybe there was something, some way to help. Inspired by each other, they jogged over to the scene and the crowd surrounding whatever trainwreck was keeping their attention so strongly. Toshinori froze down to his veins when they saw what was the cause of the commotion. It was a mutant; the same mutant he was sure he’d captured just the other day. Yes, he’d been distracted by Izuku’s presence, but he distinctly remembered turning the water bottle full of sludge over to the police before absconding with his new soulmate up to the rooftop. Izuku’s arm brushed Toshinori’s as he stepped closer in a subconscious bid at safety. How had the mutant escaped? Was it perhaps a different man after all? A twin, or someone with the same quirk? Had Izuku done something wrong? Distracted All Might from his task and caused the villain to escape? Was it the police’s fault? He glanced down at Izuku, who glanced up at him, and Toshinori shook his head. It’s not your fault, he said wordlessly, or Don’t worry about all that. And Izuku nodded, back on track after a momentary lapse of focus. How and why the mutant was here was of little concern. They both turned back to the scene at hand. “Okay, stand back and I’ll try to handle this,” Toshinori said, looking down at Izuku in a way he hoped was reassuring, and knowing anyway that he didn’t have to; Izuku could feel his determination, and every little ounce of worry that things might not go as planned. It was a nuance that Toshinori had learned to deal with in his life, and it was something Izuku was going to have to deal with as well. (Though given the boy’s penchant for overthinking, perhaps it wouldn’t be that much of a trial after all.) “Do you have enough energy?” Izuku asked nervously, obviously not wanting… well, all the things that could go wrong if Toshinori ran out at the wrong time. Toshinori laughed in soft self-depreciation. “Probably not,” he admitted. “But I’ll do what I can. That’s what it means to be a hero, right?” With Izuku’s arm still brushing his, he could feel the boy’s admiration, and it doubled in him and gave rise to a heroic rush he didn’t think he’d felt for years. Still, he waited for the right moment. That was another thing about being a hero; you couldn’t rush in blindly (not with his level of experience, anyway). He watched as the mutant swung his head around, like a cornered animal watching viciously for its enemies, and he could just about guess when it was going to let its guard down. Almost… he thought, his muscles tensing in anticipation. But just as he was about to spring forward, he felt a twinge of panic from Izuku’s side of the connection. It was a spike of recognition. Kacchan!

The roughest of drafts:

Izuku freaks out and runs to try to rescue him and they're all surprised when he actually manages to do some slight damage to the mutant; it's not enough to defeat him, but enough to stun him into dropping Bakugo, at which point Toshi transforms and rushes to finish him off. Tl;dr, turns out that a very tiny amount of Toshi’s power has become available to Izuku. (Make some note of the pain aspect, Toshi feeling Izuku’s pain from using OfA.)

Afterward, when Toshi is talking to reporters (and Izuku has managed to avoid at least a little of the reprimanding from canon, due to appearing to have some power) Izuku can feel the discomfort, Toshi’s power draining. Perhaps he plays the fan, comes to shake his hand as thanks for saving him and they're both a little surprised that it eases the discomfort, seems to give Toshi back a little strength. Izuku had just done it as an instinct, but in light of what had just happened with the power sharing, they're both very curious how this whole soulmate thing is going to work.

Toshi excuses himself from the crowd before too long and goes to find Izuku. He finds him being confronted by Bakugo, who knows that something is strange but doesn't know what (and is upset like in canon about Izuku trying to help him). Toshi tries to stay out of sight until Bakugo runs off, feeling that Izuku is confident enough in his ability to handle this. When they rejoin, Izuku explains who Bakugo is.

“[But enough about that.] Are you okay?”

They join hands. Toshi can feel that Izuku is fine but still he says, “It's you I'm concerned about. Do you know what you did back there?”

“That was your quirk,” he said, and Toshi nodded.

“Some of it, at least. Is your arm okay?”

Izuku stretched his arm out, wiggling his fingers. “It aches a little, but I'm okay. I'm just… I've never done anything like that before. It felt… kind of amazing.”

Toshi could tell that it was a little more than an ache, but that Izuku wasn't lying. It really wasn't hurting him much, and he was really feeling exhilarated. He remembered feeling like that when he first took the quirk himself.

Izuku’s side of the connection was curious and Toshi realized he could feel him thinking about his past. He debated with himself for a minute. Was this the right time to tell Izuku about his past? He would have to tell him some time, and there was no reason to wait. “I felt the same way the first time I used it,” he said. “When my mentor gave it to me. I was about your age.”

The feeling of surprise that Izuku emanated was not as much of a shock as he expected, more of a warm melting feeling, a soft realization. “You were ...quirkless? Someone gave you your quirk? But how?”

Toshi tells the story as they head back to the apartment, but they take a detour to sit somewhere and finish talking. (Way before this, Izuku texts his mom to tell her what happened and that they're fine and they'll be home in a while.) It's gotten dark by the time Toshi has finished telling of Nana and AfO and needing to pass OfA on, and they're sitting on a bench in a corner of a park or something.

“It was just an idea before,” Toshi says, “but now I'm pretty sure it's the right one. Would you be willing to take it? One for All?”

The surprise this time really is a shock, and it nearly knocks the breath out of him. “...Really?”

“You can tell I'm serious,” Toshi says with a smirk, and then he nods. “Yes. Really. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

He thinks of the reasons: he needs to pass it on, and Izuku wants a quirk, needs one to get into UA. And he's defenseless without one, a real danger with them together now. And he's already shown that he can handle it, at least a little.

“Should I think about it?” Izuku asks, looking unsure. He's probably thinking about all the things they talked about with his mother earlier, trying to be careful. But Toshi can tell he really wants it, and that's enough for him.

“If you want,” he says. “Take your time.” He knows that Izuku will say yes. (He's less sure if Inko will agree, but he knows that between the two of them, they can convince her.)

He can feel Izuku trembling, and it's with excitement he thinks. “Thank you,” Izuku says, almost breathlessly, and he leans forward and kisses Toshi, softly and quickly, and then looks him in the eyes for a short moment, twists his body in his direction more and leans in for another kiss. This one is a little deeper, lingering, not obscene but less than entirely chaste and Toshi can feel so so much through it, especially as he allows himself to kiss back. They don't take it far; Toshi can feel that Izuku knows there are boundaries, though Toshi is nervous about himself, unsure if he would be able to keep himself from crossing them, to stop when it was time. He's a bit anxious, but he's glad Izuku is reasonable, and he's excited and he's happy and they're melting into each other even though they've stopped kissing and it is finally Izuku who speaks up to interrupt them getting stuck in their twofold thoughts.

“I should get home. I have to tell my mom about all this. Am I… Can I tell her? About OfA?”

Toshi nods. “It's a big part of all of this. I guess she should know. And that'll give you a chance to talk it over with her. Decide if you want it.”

‘I do want it,’ he could tell Izuku was thinking, although maybe not in so many words. Izuku was trying to be patient and make smart decisions. He was doing his best to be worthy of being Toshi’s soulmate, and Toshi was overcome with affection for him. He hugged him close, and even more than the kissing, that was the most they'd ever felt, the most contact they'd ever made. It was less electric than kissing, but like an overblown, overexposed photo. They stayed there like that for a little while before they silently agreed to get up and go back.

The end of chapter 3, more or less.

Chapter four.

Izuku took a week to act like he was thinking about it, but in truth he'd decided almost immediately, and convinced his mom that it was a good idea (or that she should let him do it at least) on that first night, after Toshi had walked him home and said goodbye.

“Izuku! I saw on the news about that mutant attack! You're really alright? And Toshinori, and Katsuki?”

“We're fine mom! Toshinori saved us. But…” A pause. “With dad, have you ever… accidentally used his quirk before?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, looking a little worried. “I can feel when he's using it, but i've never breathed fire myself.”

Yeah, it wasn't anything he'd ever heard of before. Maybe it was because most people's quirks weren't that strong. Maybe it was because he was quirkless. Maybe… well there were a lot of reasons it could be. It didn't matter that much why; it had happened, and they'd both felt it.

“I used it. All Might’s power. Just a little bit of it.”

“Are you okay?”

He said he was fine, he thought, but Inko was skeptical. She remembered some times when he was younger, when he thought an injury was less serious than it was. She convinced him to go to the doctor tomorrow and he agreed, dismissively as he was so invested in telling her about Toshinori’s offer. She's a bit nervous about the idea but it doesn't take long for her to give in.

At the doctor's tomorrow (maybe only mentioned, not a scene) it turns out that Izuku did in fact fracture a bone in his arm. (Is a cast needed for that? Probably not.)

Later that afternoon, Toshinori texted him and asked if he was okay; his arm felt a little off. Izuku responds casually that it was just a fracture and he's fine, and Toshi fusses over him a little, apologizes for putting him in that situation. Izuku really is not bothered by it. Toshi doesn't ask if Izuku has decided and Izuku wonders if he's changed his mind. A week later, he says that he's decided to take OfA, if he's still offering it, and Toshi says that he'd be happy to give it to him, if he's really sure. But! There's no way Izuku is going to be able to handle it in his current state. They begin to train (though not until Izuku’s fracture heals). In the meantime, Izuku continues school, and Toshi continues work, and they see each roughly every weekend. Sometimes they'll meet out for lunch or sometimes Inko invites Toshi over for dinner.

(Cover some catch up. Mention Suzuki being annoyed about the edits to the paperwork etc)

It's a few weeks before they start to train, but of course it's much less covert than in canon. Inko knows exactly where they're going; Toshi has discussed it with them over dinners and such. He doesn't tell them that his plan is for Izuku to clean up the trash on the beach until they get there though.

The next several months are a more efficient training than canon. After Toshi is pretty sure Izuku has grown strong enough, they try the power-share again, and Izuku is able to start using the very tiny percentage of OfA, sometimes. It works if he's recently been in physical contact with Toshi, and fades after a minute or two. It's not enough to do anything very heroic, but it is a significant boost to Izuku’s natural strength, allowing him to move items several times his normal weight limit.

(They also find that Izuku can actually use a version of OfA that is more than twice as powerful as his tiny version, only if Toshi is currently in contact with him. However, Izuku hurt himself the first time they did that, so they avoid it until much later.)

They still don't have a perfect grasp on Izuku’s ability to handle it by the time they transfer it to him, but it's better than canon, and they do it earlier so he has more chance to practice. He has at least some ability to use it at half-power before the entrance exam (chapter 5). The only reason he hurts himself so badly there is because he freaked out and wasn't careful.

Training is pretty fun for them. It's more like play than in canon, with Izuku showing off, carrying Toshi around, silly stuff like that. He's moderately less concerned about being a hero, mostly because Toshi is so constantly encouraging so he doesn't worry about it. And he knows that even if he doesn't make it somehow, he's still got Toshi and nothing can take that away.

Aside from training, they still spend a good amount of time together. Events and holidays and such. Izuku meets Suzuki. Toshi invites Izuku (and probably Inko) to his place once or twice, though they still spend most of their time out or at the Midoriyas’ apartment. Inko politely requests that they not stay at Toshi’s place. (She isn't /too concerned, but she just wants them to know that she has some kind of expectations about how they'll handle their relationship. She half expects Izuku to go behind her back in some of those regards.)

Izuku has his 15th birthday not long after they start training (might have to look this one up) or thereabouts. He has mixed emotions about this, and about inviting Toshi to his ‘party’ (probably just a fancy-ish dinner with his mother (maybe dad too?) Since he doesn't have any friends). He wants Toshi there, of course, but he's somewhat embarrassed about still being only 15, and doesn't want to draw attention to it. On the other hand, he's also excited to be getting older, closer and closer to the age that it would be appropriate for he and Toshi to act however they liked. (This birthday scene goes in early middle of chapter.)

More holidays: Christmas, new years, Valentine's day. Maybe just slight mentions of those.

Chapter ends when Toshi wishes Izuku luck at the entrance exam. He kisses him and Izuku is a little shocked because Toshi is rarely if ever the one to initiate that sort of thing. He heads to the exam, excited and confident.

Chapter 5.

Toshi heads to UA (potentially along with Izuku), and goes to watch the exam with his fellow teachers. He's met them several times and they know about his injury and resting form, but only Nedzu knows that Izuku is his soul mate. Most of the others are familiar enough with him to know that he doesn't have one, and many assume that he's one of the few who will never have one.

When the exam starts though, they might be able to tell that he is on edge, excited but nervous. However, they are all focused as well. It's not until Izuku smashes the robot (and everyone is shocked) and Toshi reacts to the pain that they notice the connection between them. He's not incapacitated (like Izuku is) but he is distressed and in pain and having to deal with the commotion from the other teachers. (Choose one teacher to perhaps help him out.)

As soon as he's able, he goes to Izuku. (At some point he calls Inko to let her know what's happened, and she's worried and upset and he has to talk her down until she realizes that he's upset too.) In the infirmary, Izuku is knocked out, which Toshi already knew, could tell because the pain subsided very quickly. Chiyo looks up when he comes in, obviously connecting the dots.

“He made quite a mess of himself,” she tells him, pulling up a chair next to Izuku’s bed for him. She tells him the details of what Izuku broke. “But he'll recover.”

“Thank you,” Toshi says, reaching out to carefully run his hands over Izuku’s arm, laying his hand on the side of his face, thinking about if this was a good idea, etc.

Eventually, Izuku wakes up and they talk. A few people might come by in the meantime. Izuku is eventually clear to go home. Toshi takes him. Izuku asks if he passed, knowing that Toshi was there, and all Toshi can say is that he thought he did a good job, but he doesn't know for sure. (He later finds out that Izuku scored quite well, but refrains from telling him, letting Izuku get the letter from the school.)

He gets a phone call from Izuku after the letters have gone out, and he can feel a sense of excitement even before he picks up. Izuku is crying on the other end. “Why didn't you tell me I made it?!” But he is obviously extremely happy.

Out on patrol or something, Toshi can't stop grinning for the rest of the day. When someone asks him, he just says that he's excited for new opportunities.

Chapter 6

Izuku and Toshi both begin at UA. Izuku has already made friends with a few people from the exam, and of course he knows Bakugo. Bakugo is extra suspicious of him, confused about how he's got a quirk suddenly, and knowing that he's been acting strange the whole past year. He might even suspect that they're both related to izuku’s soul mate, considering the timing.

School is, of course, plenty for them to focus on, but izuku and Toshi are still very focused on each other as well. Toshi treats izuku much the same as in canon, inviting him for lunch and etc, “playing favorites”. But since the other teachers know they're soulmates (at least, some do?) they don't criticize him quite as much for it.

Toshi and izuku continue to progress in their relationship, lightly, balancing their personal and professional relationships. They act very casual around each other and have to be careful not to be too casual in front of the class.

Izuku makes friends, which is sort of new for him. He loves them and wants to be open with them about his situation, but he can't. He's thought about telling, but he knows he can't break the rules they set. It's harder when perhaps the rumor (true rumor? What do you call that?) goes around about how he was affected by the soul link pain when he was little. He can easily tell his friends that it's not bad anymore, but it's hard having to pretend he doesn't know who it is. (Also may have to decide about sub-pairings? Otherwise it will be very hard for any of the other students to talk about their experiences. If they had mates in the class (like most ships) they would likely find out very quickly.)

Most people won't immediately assume it's All Might, even if they spend a lot of time together.

Key point: they hone their energy sharing, as Toshi becomes a bit exhausted some days. Simply being in contact for a while (lunch or something) acts as a recharge for him. When the other staff figure this out, they're much more accepting of izuku hanging out in the staff lounge.

(Need to rewatch to see what the first few weeks are like.)

Maybe include some scenes with Inko.

Chapter 7

This is the USJ incident. Toshi gets caught up in work and is late to help at USJ, but less late than in canon because he feels/hears Izuku crying out for him. Don't have to describe most of the USJ events because it's from Toshi POV, but have to decide when he gets there and if it all goes more smoothly.

The way that Toshi and izuku act towards each other (calling by their first names, extreme familiarity and working together) is what starts to tip off some of the students, though it's not relevant at the time.

The encounter is a little easier this time, with the power-share (this is probably the first time they try it out seriously) and the desperation to save each other (and the others) echoing between them.

Any character who takes notice of their bond and quirk in canon is likely to notice the soul link instead.

After the incident, emotions are running high. This was the first time they were honestly scared of losing each other. They want to hold each other for a very long time. Perhaps they are seen by some of the students (who maybe chalk it up to generic relief over the situation, but would definitely file it away for later). Later, they still don't want to let each other go, and perhaps spend their first night together (not necessarily sexual or anything), Inko having not allowed them to do so before.

Emotional wrap-up; they're scared but calmed by each other's presence. They know they can handle the future together.

END? (of this particular story, probably) Brainstorming, notes, and ideas for further fics in the series

And the notes below: (my shorthand for the characters is IM = Izuku Midoriya, AM= All Might, IMmom = Inko (not shorthand in that case I know lol, I think I didn’t want people reading over my shoulder)) >>>"Touch" sequel

A lot of people actually expressed an interest in this, so let me jot down my ideas-- as well as their ideas.

AM and IM have met, and now keep in touch. How has this changed their lives? Well now whenever they feel a strange pain, they'll call or text each other to make sure they're okay. They're both aware of what their relationship would be, if IM was older, and so is his mom, and so is pretty much everyone else that knows. In fact, most people assume that they're 'together' anyway, and it causes some tension. They try to keep it mostly under wraps, but it's nearly impossible. IM's friends and classmates are sure to notice, and AM's manager thinks maybe they should just come out with it. For their part, IM and AM just want to enjoy each others' presence and keep their moral concerns personal. IM is of course more brave (between the two of them), while AM knows he's 'supposed' to refrain. In public, they're both very good about it.

Some time in the future, after they've really adjusted to each other, and the drama (at least from their friends and family) has died down, they take to being heroes together, as they at some point realize how much more receptive they are when they're together/touching.

Questions! :

--Does IM still get OfA? (I'm leaning towards yes? Most of the rest of the story wouldn’t make sense if he didn’t.)

--How do friends/family react? Some people are jealous? BK particularly? IMmom is as supportive as possible, but she still worries for IM. As time goes on, if IM get OfA, she worries for AM too. (What about AM's cop friend?? I dunno, haven't thought about him much.)

--How do media/people react? Manager wants to tell, because he knows people will find out and it's better to come out with it before they do. But AMIM want to stay private. Perhaps at the tournament, it is no longer possible to avoid media attention. Someone notices AM's discomfort when IM fights TS, notices IM look to the stands for AM before doing something reckless. When they find out, it's all anyone wants to talk about. AM's thin form becomes very useful for avoiding the media.

--Perhaps around then, IM is kidnapped to be used against AM?

--When things are calm, AMIM often text each other just to talk-- sometimes in the night. "I miss you" IM texts. "Is that what you were thinking of?" AM asks, aware that IM is awake and wound up, and winding him up too. This is before they've really worked out how things are supposed to go between them. IM is bold; AM is holding himself back.

-- IM goes to UA, begins to use quirk. -- AMIM work harder at managing IM’s abilities than in canon, because its effects are more obvious on them. -- AM starts at UA as a teacher; AMIM have to hide their link. IM has not told anyone. AM had to tell the staff. -- When the villains attack, AM gets there sooner, as he’s tipped off by their link. Things happen about the same. -- (Should I bother to include that part if nothing is significantly different? Leaning towards no. Maybe just touch on it.) -- At the tournament, that’s when people take notice of AMIM’s link. (IM’s friends have already begun to notice.) -- After that, it’s all anybody wants to talk about. AMIM are in the spotlight, though UA tries to protect them. -- The media begins to gossip about them, some piecing the puzzle together about their quirks. Some guess that IM is AM’s son (and has inherited his quirk). (It’s not unheard of for family to be platonic soulmates.) -- Manager makes them come out with an official statement finally, despite their reluctance. -- IM receives many invitations to intern with heroes. For safety’s sake, they turn them all down, except Torino. -- IM goes to train with Torino, covertly, while AM stays behind to deal with the PR mess. -- Things happen about as usual. Maybe only touch on this part as well? Not super relevant to the AU. -- IM thinks about AM during the fight with HK, and AM wants to get to him, knowing something is wrong, but knows he won’t make it in time. (Remember, “Touch” was 3rd person limited-omniscient. POV can be from IM, AM, and other relevant characters.) -- Would AM be allowed to test IM during the midterms? Maybe gloss over that part. Especially towards the end of Season 2, go more vaguely into the ending, to avoid making it obvious that you have no idea what happens after that. XD; Isolate the emotional core of the story (the emotional drama or problem) to solve in the final scenes, even if it avoids canon entirely. That’s preferable, in fact. Points to write, unrelated to canon occurrences: : -- AMIM want to spend a lot of time together, but they must balance their responsibilities. IMmom is pretty understanding and allows them a lot of freedom. -- Manager (needs name) is less understanding, hounds them to release a press statement. -- Most of their time together is spent in private or secluded places. Obvs, they frequent the beach for training. -- They often text and talk to each other on the phone, nightly if they haven’t seen each other. -- AM is still struggling a little bit with the fact that IM is so young, but he’s impressed by IM’s emotional maturity. -- IM is over the moon about AM, not enduring nearly the moral struggle AM is. He’s not an idiot, and he’s not oblivious, but he doesn’t think that there’s anything particularly wrong with them messing around a little. He’s considerate enough not to wind AM up when he’s busy or they’re in public, although sometimes he can’t help how he feels. (Being ‘turned on’ isn’t really strong enough of a feeling to cross the link; only acting on it is.) -- For his part, AM (at first, at least) tries not to touch himself, or at least only when he thinks IM is sleeping. Eventually they come to the conclusion that that’s not working out well-- and the most logical way to handle it, so as not to inconvenience either of them, is to go at the same time/ at set times. -- That is the most AM allows them to do (hugging/cuddling is totally fine, limited kissing is okay), and even that seems like too much to him, but he compromises with himself because he knows it would be worse if he didn’t. (It’s not as if he’s going to convince a 16-year-old to stop touching himself for 2+ years, and though his own urges are less frequent, it’s been uncomfortable trying to hold back entirely.) He doesn’t allow them to touch each other, and IM is actually pretty okay with this. Well, he respects it, at least. He’s just happy to have AM in whatever capacity he can. Some notes regarding the universe: -- laws regarding consent ages are a bit more lax, given the soulmate thing. AMIM would be more-or-less within their right to do whatever they want with each other, as long as IMmom is okay with it. And even if she weren’t, they could apply to be married, even at IM’s young age, by passing a test that proves they’re soulmates.(I don't think they'll do this. Manager would have a heart attack. ...then again, maybe he'd like the idea…) -- however, there is still certainly a stigma about age-difference relationships, particularly where one party is underage.

Story 1 plot points to mention our resolve:

-- telling IM that his mom already knew

-- AM coming to terms with IM being a fan

-- AM telling IM his real name

-- AM telling manager about IM immediately. (Might be a good point to start with.)

To time skip or not to time skip? I'm leaning towards not. New outline, after I've written a bit.

1. AM talks to manager, Suzuki, and tells him about the whole situation, almost entirely honest. They decide to keep it a secret until AM has a successor. (AM POV)

2. AMIM go on a date, where they talk about both applying to UA. IM wonders what AM is not telling him. They hold hands. AM brings up the paperwork Suzuki wants them to sign, and IM agrees. (IM POV)

3. AM sees something that convinces him to offer OFA to IM. (AM POV)

4. IM begins to train for OfA. (IM POV)

5. IM goes to UA entrance exam. (AM POV)

6. They begin at UA, and try to figure out how to act around each other, after they've had so much private time over the past months. (IM POV)

7. The villains attack UA, AMIM touch-team to beat them, and people start to really put their relationship together. (AM POV)

END S1. Ugh how did this get so long that I have to separate it by season?!

Touch2 titles:

Some related words: Touch, feel, sense, sensation, emotion, Touch, touched, touching, touches, touchstone, touch-tone, aftertouch, finishing touch, retouch, out of touch, in touch, untouched, Touched can mean: physically touched (he touched my arm), lightly mentioned (he touched upon the issue), emotionally moved (he was touched by the story), brought together metaphorically (their lives touched), affected (his life was touched by his decisions) Touch, taste, smell, see, hear

Leaning towards using other ‘touch’ words for different parts of overall story.

Touch - original story

Retouch(ed) - this story

Touch-up - maybe the next part

Finishing touch - the last story (though there might be another in between)

Untouchable - first nsfw side story, before izuku is of age, on the phone with each other, feeling the echoes of their actions.

Untouched - second nsfw side story, when izuku comes of age and they finally get together physically.

Aftertouch - epilogue (years in future, maybe, working together)

In touch - side stories taking place in the timeline of the story

Out of touch - side stories taking place before or after story, or from different character's point of view or about different characters.

Chapter quotes: Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity.

-Edwin Hubbell Chapin (Chapter 1, Retouch) The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.

-Helen Keller The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: a human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him, a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.

-Pearl Buck Aim for your star, no matter how far, you must reach high above and touch your life with love, you must never look back, but charge on! Attack! See your goal your star of desire, see it red hot, feel it burning, you must be obsessed with it to make it your true yearning, be ready my friends for when you truly believe it, you will certainly achieve it and by all of God’s universal laws you will always receive it!

-Bob Smith We do not do well except when we know where the best is and when we are assured that we have touched it and hold its power within us. (lol god this one is awfully literal)

-Joseph Joubert If you can learn from hard knocks, you can also learn from soft touches.

-Carolyn Kenmore, Mannequin: My Life as a Model When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.

-Henri Nouwen And that’s everything I’ve got about Touch/Retouch! I might clean up that third chapter and post it some day, but *shrug*.

#elo fics #Dekumight #long post

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