#sureeee it was the numbers

[locklyle1kanij]

The real reason netflix canceled L&C is because they know with the next seasons it would have be the best netflix original they’ve ever created (it already is in my book tbh) and they know that any show they make after that, people would be like “Oh that’s shows okay, but it’s nothing compared to Lockwood and Co.”

#netflix are fucking wimps #sureeee it was the numbers #renew lockwood and co #i hate netflix #lockwood and co #locklyle #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #save lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and lucy #george karim #george cubbins #quill kipps #holly munro #i forgot how to spell her last name for second there😭

[natspookie]

match made in uni

☆ teacher college au ; strict adviser!nat (science teacher) x coadviser cute!reader (english teacher)

— im sure school isnt the same for everyone butttt for me in each class we have a teacher assigned as our advisor!!! they also teach classes

— longass oneshot because i’ve been working on this for two months……

soon, it was the beginning of a new school year at nyu. natasha, a science teacher known for her strictness, is finally getting her own advisory class.

natasha walks over to to her desk at the large, wine colored faculty and the new paper at the bulletin board catches her eye.

the list of co-advisors and advisors for this school year. natasha walks towards it and racks her eyes for her name and sees another beside it.

advisor - co advisor

Romanoff, Natasha - Y/l/n, Y/n

Barnes, Bucky - Rogers, Steve

Maximoff, Wanda - Barton, Clint

…

natasha furrows her eyebrows at the unfamiliar name next to hers.

“wanda, who is y/n y/l/n?” natasha turns around to the other redhead. if anyone were to know who and what, it would be wanda.

wanda was always the first to get on campus, natasha second.

“oh! she’s the new english teacher. very sweet young woman, maria accepted that job in harvard, remember?” she says with a sweet smile.

“you know this how?” natasha takes her seat in front of her desk, beside wanda’s “i bumped into her as she was given a tour, you’ll love her as your co- advisor!” natasha gave a hum.

she didn’t meet you till 2 weeks before the school year started. a faculty meeting was held at the auditorium. natasha walked in, expecting to be second, but was now third. she saw wanda and a y/h/c talking.

“nat!” wanda waved her over as the y/h/c turned her head to see natasha approaching “natasha, this is y/n! y/n, natasha”

“y/n” you smiled, extending your hand for a handshake “romanoff” she shook your hand once and dropped it “oh- of course, y/l/n then” you laughed as she nodded, taking the seat beside wanda.

natasha wouldn’t lie, you were attractive. she just didn’t know you enough. the meeting soon started, briefing what would happen when the students came. the list of advisors and co-advisors came up, making each person familiar with who they were working with.

after that, natasha soon realized your desk was beside hers at the faculty. you didn’t have much but some flowers at the side and sticky notes up.

natasha didn’t see much of you till the week of school starting itself. “wanda, do you happen do have y/l/n’s phone number?” “why don’t you ask her yourself, flirty” wanda giggled

“not in that way, genius. we need to prep our classroom” “sureeee… here ya go” wanda gave a post it as natasha grumbled, taking it.

Natasha Romanoff

Y/l/n, if you’re free please meet me

at our assigned room tomorrow. Thanks.

— N.R

Y/n Y/l/n

Sure! Around what time? :)

Natasha Romanoff

11AM Sharp.

Y/n Y/l/n

Got it! See you there!

“nat why are you being so dry to this poor woman” wanda looked over natasha’s desk as she hid her phone to her chest. “snoopy” “dry texter” “Well she’s my co-advisor! I’ve never had one and I like to handle things on my own”

“A, you’ve never even been an advisor, you need help. B, she’s kind, don’t break her. C, she’s pretty, maybe date her” wanda winked again “oh fuck you” natasha rolled her eyes “romanoff! we’re in school” “oh come on, I hear you swearing at little maximoff all day”

11am the next day came and each advisor and co had to decorate their own classroom. natasha and you decided to just make it as simple as possible. you two were decorating with quiet music playing from a vinyl player.

“sorry if ever i’m being rude or dry, i don’t trust people easily” natasha said, breaking the comfortable silence as she hung up decorations over the board.

“i don’t blame you, you did just meet me last week” you let out a chuckle as natasha climbed down the short ladder “natasha” she extended her hand “y/n” you shook it “I think this is good enough” natasha looks around the decorated classroom, satisfied.

“mhm… hey, wanna grab lunch? i know a great place around here” you suggested “why not”

you and natasha walked over to a café after lunch for come coffee “order?” she asked you as you took a seat “iced caramel macchiato please” she nodded and ordered for you both

natasha told you about her many stories as a teacher. “yeah this one time some kid threw a fit and ripped all the pages from their book” natasha said with a low laugh “oh lord” you shook your head with a smile

“what about you? is this your first teaching job?” natasha tilted her head “sort of? i was a student teacher for 2 years before i graduated this year”

“oh, so you’re like fresh out of college?” “yup, i kind of retook a year in grade school though so i was like a year or two older than my batch mates. they graduated 22 and 23 and me, 24” i shrugged sipping on my coffee. “that’s nice”

“what about you?” “my age? i’m 36.” your eyes widened at that “look, i know i’m old but at least don’t make it obvious” natasha laughed lowly “no! no i just- you don’t look it at all, i honestly thought you were in your 20s” you chuckled “well thank you, i’m flattered” natasha smiled

the morning of your first day, natasha handed you an iced caramel macchiato and you blushed as she remembered your order. “nervous?” she smiled, taking her seat beside you.

natasha wore a black betau top with cream wide leg trousers. you wore a lace flare top with flare pants.

“sort of, i have 3 classes today. they’ll probably hate me” you groan and take a long sip of the coffee “unlikely, you’re very likable. you may even take wanda’s place as nicest teacher. but if they ever disrespect you or any of that, i will personally have a chat with them”

“i really appreciate you, natasha” she nodded and stood up, extending her hand “time to have our first advisory class” she winked and you chuckled, shaking your head.

“good morning class, i’m ms romanoff, your advisor this school year. and beside me is your co-advisor, ms y/l/n. i’ve been teaching at nyu for 5 years and this is my first advisory class. i will also be your science teacher.” natasha said with a straight face as she turned to look at you before looking back at the students

“hi! good morning, i’m ms y/l/n, your co- advisor and english teacher this school year! it’s my first year teaching and i look forward to getting to know everyone” you smiled

natasha briefed everyone on general instructions and the schedule. english as first period today and science as last.

“that’s it, be good everyone, thank you” natasha stopped her presentation and all the students went off to chattering. you opened your laptop, opening your slides when natasha whispered behind you. “good luck, you’ll do great” she winked and you thanked her before you heard the door shut.

if’s been a month of teaching with natasha. you were cleaning up your things as your finished your class when natasha walked in, her class being the one after yours.

she made small talk to you while setting up her own things. she made you laugh when a student suddenly asked. “ms y/l/n! you’re a lesbian, correct?” your eyes widened at the topic

“excuse me, i don’t think it’s appropriate to ask a teacher that.” natasha shut them up as you both left the classroom, sharing a laugh

you had slipped out the fact you had a girlfriend in college to natasha on one of your café hangouts so she probably got the hint.

"what got them to ask that question" natasha chuckled "well the boys keep asking me out and i keep declining them. but don't they get they are students?!" “oh trust me, it gets better. i’ve had my fair share of questions and-” natasha halted her words when she got the hint some students were whispering as the both of you passed by the halls.

“what are they whispering about?” “i’m actually not sure as well” you said “well i’ll see you after class” you waved to natasha, making your way to the classroom.

“ms y/l/n, i don’t mean to invade your privacy or anything but- are you and ms romanof dating? everyone has been talking about it and- i- i just didn’t want to assume” a student came up to you and you choked on your spit

“i- um- no! and i’m sure ms romanoff wouldn’t fancy the idea of students talking about her love life.” you shook it off with a smile, thoughts racing through your head. no way natasha would go for you.

“students are saying we’re dating?!?”

"hey, you've been staring intently at that paper for awhile, you alright?" natasha tapped your shoulder, standing beside you.

"this interpretation is so..." "so.." "read it for yourself" you lifted the paper up to natasha "pick a line from any shakespeare poem and interpret it... the answer was..”

'my chosen poem is 'o never say that i was false of heart' and my line is 'as from soul, which in thy breast doth lie', i think it means shakespeare approves of lesbians’"

"you can laugh" you said as natasha let out a loud laugh, covering her mouth. you looked up and you saw natasha smile widely before looking into your eyes.

time went by too slowly when natasha cleared her throat and handed you back the paper. “it’s funny” she stated, sitting back in her seat. the silence was now awkward.

of course she wouldn’t go for you. “yeah” you whispered and stood up. natasha watched you as her words died in her throat.

the next few weeks were you avoiding natasha as much as you could, and her doing nothing to fix it.

you had a particularly rough week with taking an extra class since wanda was down with the cold. you happened to have a love for history as well.

the papers to grade were twice as much now. you rubbed your forehead in frustration as you were the only one on school campus.

“y/n?” you turned around to see natasha by the door “yeah” you murmured before turning back to the papers. “it’s 1 am what are you doing?!” she walked over to your desk and saw the amount of papers scattered.

“go home” she stated “not done” you whispered, leaning on the palm of your hand “you can continue tomorrow, dekta” natasha let the nickname slip but was thankful you were too out of it to notice

natasha started filing the papers for you as you rested your head against the desk. “i can take homeroom alone so you don’t have to get in till 10am, ‘kay?” she helped you stand up as you murmured a yes.

“you won’t fall asleep driving?” she asked and you shook your head. “safe travels” she watched as you drove off.

the next morning students frowned at the loss of their favorite teacher in homeroom. “alright, we finished a few minutes early so… any questions?” natasha asked and received many raised hands

“yes, diana?” “where’s ms y/n?” natasha softened at the mention, not going unnoticed by the students “she- she’s taking a rest but will be here for your 3rd period”

“is her girlfriend taking care of her?” a student piqued. natasha stiffened “whatever ms y/l/n and her partner do is not relevant.” natasha looked at her watch and grabbed her stuff “have a good first period everyone.”

natasha couldn’t help but feel a weight on her chest by the thought of you having a partner that isn’t her.

unbeknownst to her, the students were ready in their cupid skills.

“i’m telling you, diana! she frowned and got all cold again by the mention of ms y/n having a girlfriend!” the student argued. “what if we sent fake flowers to her desk and ms romanoff got more jealous!” “that’s so childish!” “well- i am a teen?” the students bickered but quickly got quiet when their next subject teacher came.

the next day natasha’s mood got worse upon seeing roses on your table, with a note. you came a few minutes after hers.

“morning ms romanoff” natasha tried to hold her tounge at the downgrade from natasha to ms romanoff.

“morning y/n, you know you can call me natasha, right?” you nodded but smiled at the flowers on your desk

“girlfriend?” she asked and you laughed “no” you opened up the card to see a horrible pickup line that made you laugh.

“people ask me what blush i use, i just show them a photo of you and i’m all roses” you read out loud to natasha.

“corny” she snickered “yeah? you can do better than that, romanoff?” natasha spun her chair to face you “as a matter of fact, yes.” “try me” you smirked “oh you’ll see.”

since then, every morning you would get to your desk with a pickup line from natasha which were undeniably good.

it’s been four months of teaching when you left quite frantically that piqued natasha’s interest,

“what’s the rush?” she chuckled “gotta date” you shoved your stuff into your bag “bye wanda, steve, bruce, tasha!” you left before a reply

“hope she gets laid” wanda muttered, earning a slap from natasha “what! i’m being supportive!” natasha grumbled in response

the next day, natasha was surprised to see you and wanda earlier than usual. “morning nat!” wanda greeted and you forced a smile to her as well “what’s wrong?” “she stood me up… i got a lot of work done last night though” you leaned back in your seat

“i’m sorry y/n/n” natasha set her stuff down and handed you the daily pickup line. she smiled when you laughed. “how do you never fail to come up with a bad one?!? this is like number sixty!” “one of my many talents” natasha winked.

“imma get coffee, be right back” you left and wanda immediately said “ask her out.” “what?” natasha looked at wanda “come onnnnnn! it’s been 4 months” “should i really?” natasha asked quietly and wanda shrieked a yes. a small smile was forming on natasha’s face at the idea.

the next day natasha came even earlier than wanda and set roses on your desk.

natasha fiddled with her pen when you walked in “morning wands, morning tasha” you sat on your desk and smiled at the roses. wanda quietly snuck out the door. “are these from you?” you smirked, jokingly at natasha. “yes, and this is for you, natasha said seriously and handed you a post it. in specific, a sticky note that asks you out. this one finally has her name signed on the bottom.

“i- of course” you smiled at natasha “great! i- um- i’ll pick you up tonight at your place” “alright” you smiled widely “i have a thing- i’ll be back” she nodded as you left.

bonus-

you kept all post its from natasha and she was in awe when she saw them in the box.

the students all went crazy when they saw you both kissing online.

wanda was a bridesmaid at the wedding.

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #black widow fic

[jadeittic]

can you do wednesday x fem reader hcs abt them dating!

(hc) DATING WEDNESDAY ADDAMS

— guys i am so fucking sorry for this i was in the car and i got so fucking dizzy😭😭😭

WARNINGS: swearing because i cant help it

no one will make me think otherwise

but i am SUREEEE so fucking sure that she leaves these novels, or her own works quotes on your bag, bed, or just anywhere where you see in general

whether it may be the most darkest quote you’ve ever read in your life, you love it either way

head pats if theres a height difference between you two

AND LAYING YOUR HEAD ON HERS😭😭😭😭😭

in the outside you’d think wednesday hates it but her dark heart just goes 🤯🤯🤯

she was never really a big fan of physical touch

until she met you😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

she’d catch herself always holding hands with you, everywhere u go

or just sitting so close next to you youre both practically hugging

AND SHES SO CUTE WHEN SHE GETS YOU MAD

it was a pretty heated argument and it ended with you just storming off and out of her room

poor girl didnt know what to do☹️

she’d ask thing for help but he’d just sign to her that it’s her own problem to fix

which she eventually agreed to

soooooooo she went to enid for help to make up with you and she was more than okay with it

yk what she did?

SHE COMPOSED A SONG FOR YOU.

a FUCKING SONG

you almost cried cuz you never thought she’d do this to make up with u😭

and when she finished you jumped into her arms, repeatedly thanking and forgiving her even if it wasnt her fault

and the first time ever

❤️she hugged u back with the biggest smile on her face❤️

overall cutest couple ever

OTP OF NEVERMORE IM TELLING YOU

with enid and ajax as your number one fans<333

she loves u very very much she just wont tell u

and you, yourself says ditto

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tyler galpin x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #enid sinclair x reader #bianca barclay x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #jadeittic

[strgrlxox]

a/n :: last night i had a dream abt this so i had to write for it obv!!

thinking abt james potter, and domestic life w him.

marriage.

james has told you many times that he breathes for you

from the moment he knew he loves u all he wanted was to start a family w u

james potter is the family man

marriage is a big thing to him and he always said

“i can’t wait to make you my wife.”

and he fucking meant it

he knew that u (obviously) wanted to wait until gradation to get engaged

so he waited

until literally the day u guys graduated

he was fucking committed too

he’d never propose half-assed

he’d most likely been planning it since u first started dating 😭

it’d be so thoughtful and catered to what he knows you’d like

bridezilla for sureeee

just once your special day to be perfect

he probably invited u to his bachelor party (much to sirius’ dismay)

u didn’t go and he pouted the whole time w/o u

wouldn’t get drunk before his wedding

cause he wouldn’t want to feel anything less than good the day of

hates not seeing u immediately but probably really wants to do the first look thingy (he’d pout the entire time though fs)

children.

wants a really weird number of kids

like seven or something

would totally understand and be fine if u don’t want that many

but he wants a big family

defo insists the names be something u mutually lovee

he’d be a great dad istg

he was born to be a father and husband istg

wants all the babies to look just like you

talks to ur stomach while pregnant

like a lot

full on (one sided) convos

it’s almost ridiculous but he’s cute so we let it slidee

#ꗃ%jamieˑ༄ #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #ꗃ%jos library⤷✰

[thenewausten]

Quackity and his S/O in a rock band HC's!

First at all, he'd be the vocalist for sureeee! You'd be the guitarrist!!!!!!

On the shows, Alex'd for sure sing for you the love songs of your band <3 He'd look at you all the time while singing it, making everyone including yourself almost die because it's too beautiful, cute and sexy!@@

Grabbing your waist during his performances 🤭 Or almost kissing you sometimes. Man, the tension between you two would be so big. Probably you'd make out backstage on your dressing room while your band mates are getting ready to leave :))

Probably you'd also have sex on your dressing room or bathroom after the show. He'd grab your waist and thrust into your cunt like there's no tomorrow, making you moan as you hold on the sink edge. "Fuck, you're so hot!" He whispers in your ear as he groans. "Alex, I'm so close!" You say, a loud moan escape from your mouth. "Yeah?! Cum for me, princesa. Let them listen to you so they can know you're all mine." The boy grabs your throat. "Only I can make you feel this good, uh?" You nod, moaning his name while you cum, he'd come right after, thrusting his cum inside of your walls while he grabs your hair. "So 'fuckin hot and all mine." He whispers on your ear as he kisses your neck.

He'd for sure write songs about you <3 I can picture you both lying down on your bed at night, you're almost on top of him, he's with one of his hands inside your shirt and you're making out like two teenagers when Alex breaks a very intense kiss, so suddenly that it scares you. "What happened?!" You ask him. "Uh, I just... I had an idea, I'm sorry, mi princesa, pero necesito escribir." Your boyfriend gets up and grabs a paper and a pen. You watch the boy write it down and get up to see what's it. "Is it a song?" You ask him and he nods. "Sit on my lap, hermosa." You sit on his lap and read the lyrics. "It's about you, mi vida." He whispers and kisses your shoulder and neck. "It's so beautiful, baby." You say to him and turn your head so you can reach his lips. "It's almost done." He kisses you and then starts to write again, he finishes writing and kisses your neck. "We can put it on the next album." He whispers and you nod. "I love you, amor." He whispers again, hugging you tighter. "I love you, 'Lexie." You kiss him with a smile on your face.

He'd get crazy with all your outfits for the shows 😭 "You're so hot, baby." He'd whisper in your ear and sometimes would stare at your body while you play.

Oh, the edits on TikTok would go crazyyyyy aswell

At the end of a song about you and your curves he'd kiss you, not a peck on the lips, a very intense kiss in front of everyone, even grabbing your ass as he pulls your body closer to his.

You'd always sit on his lap on a interview or 'somethin, Alex'd provoke you or you'd provoke him, always laughing and being on your own world that you both created <3

He'd be a very protective boyfriend, tho. On the shows, at parties, meeting fans or whatever. Always a very protective boyfriend with you, always making you feel safe around him!

He'd write almost all the songs of the next album for you, about you and your relationship!!! He'd be so in love he couldn't think about other things, situations or people, only about you :((

The boy would buy you flowers everyday before your show so you can get on the stage very happy and even more in love with him <3

He'd post a lot of photos of you, he'd be your number one fan!!!

He'd take you to a lot of midnight drives!!! You'd talk, laugh and kiss, maybe get a little bit drunk and have sex on his car.

"You're my favourite rockstar, Y/N." He'd whisper in your ear all the time, you'd laugh and kiss his lips. "You're my favourite rockstar, 'Lex."

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)

Requests are open!

#quackity #qsmp #qsmp brazil #quackity imagines #alex quackity #quackity x reader #qsmp brasil #quackity imagine #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity smut #quackity fluff #quackity fanfic #quackityhq #qsmp quackity #quackity headcannons #quackity scenario

[hayden-christensen]

I won't be surprised if he disappears again, he's getting stalked and harassed, I don't think he'd be thinking about himself as much as he'd be thinking about his daughter when people are texting his number and finding his home address, it's totally unsafe.

oh yeah for sureeee 😔 do people not have common sense like????

#anonymous #ask

[digitalagepulao]

Chp 3 time!!

Okay, gotta say that I love the bit where it's shown that Wukong's ten years wandering amongst humans wasn't in vain. He learned a lot, and he shares what he's learned with his monkeys, from crafting weapons to actual war maneuvers! And I love the explanation of how wild creatures got their hands on actual crafted weapons. Not only is it a display of Wukong's newfound powers and cunning, but also shows how the monkeys are later able to keep up against Heaven's armies. Really nice attention to detail and immersion, which shows off even more in the later arcs!

And oooh finally we get Ruyi Jingu Bang!! So so nice to see it, just two chapters in and Wukong's got his fated weapon. And, I do appreciate that, while the Cudgel was indeed meant to find him, it was a bit show of greed and throwing his weight around to get more than he should have. He had promised to give Ao Guang payment for the stick, but as soon as eh had it in his hands, he started threatening him for a suit of armor to match. Plus, we see here him constantly quoting sayings and expressions at the Dragon King, a stark difference from his confusion at Subodhi's own use of sayings in the earlier chapter. I like how it kind of shows when he's acting at his haughtiest, especially in the later chapters, as if he's flaunting his knowledge and wisdom to be taken more seriously or be dismissive.

It's slightly handwaved away but, I love how the Monkey King was never idle and went off to show off to heroes and other demon kings. He just makes friends and allies wherever he goes, and it's a great bit of characterization.

And of course, the Underworld portion. I find the number of years he's given quite interesting, since it was earlier said that he lived as a monkey for "three or four hundred years" before he goes to find immortality. If we go by three hundred, then he spent about two decades wandering, which means he had a reign for about twenty or so years! It's also a bit comical that he was to be given a good peaceful death, and he promptly refused it. That's not what he signed up for, and he won't stand for it!

Also, I find this passage rather... ominous, given what happens in a few chapters. "Jumped clear of the Five Phases", have ya? Sureeee

Then the cut to Heaven and his antics reaching the Jade Emperor, and we're given a bit of a cliffhanger for next chapter as he accepts the invitation. Boy oh boy...

#journey to the west #jttw #xiyouji #jttw book club #community liveread

[gingerjolover]

omg hello there 😁

crazy to find you here. 😼 listen… I know you asked for valentines requests and I know you might have other stuff to write about before you get to this ask… but I wanted to know if you could do more controversially young gf with the other munagenius members jo, naomi and lucy in specific (lmao just practically naming all the members. btw this is not phoebe and katie erasure i’m in love with them and would want fics for them aswell but those three are my personal biases 🙄💅)

you asked a while ago like idk a couple months ago if this was something we would have wanted and i was actually going to request it. but I didn’t know how asks worked until last week. longwinded way of me saying this was something i wanted 🙄

i will wait years if it meant we got a fic like the julien x contro young gf one but for the other members cause i’ve read it too many times since it came out 🥴🤨

i wish i had some ideas to help you yet i am useless and don’t know how to put into words what i want. i know you would create magic though 😉

anyway…. thank you so much if you decide to do this or even read this long ass ask i would be so super grateful if you do 😁

coming from your number one fan, a gay loser with too much time on her hands 🤘

so sorry for the lack of punctuation and sucky grammar lmao i use grammarly and am too ashamed to run this ask through the system before submitting

be my friend please

xoxo 💁‍♀️😼😽😻🫶🙌😹🤘

omg hi baby!!!

first off, yes let’s be bffs! i know i’ve been absent for a while and im a lil flaky but im trying to get better and am always down to chat!

i do plan on doing at the very least blurbs of munagenius x controversially young!gf

idk if they will all get full length fics but we will have some type of stories for sureeee

also i love long asks! i’m sorry im responding sooooo late, i have 300+ rn 😫

thank you for following along honey<3

#anon cutie #one of the cutest anons ever #aren’t we all just gay losers #at least we have each other #gay<3 #muna x reader #boygenius x reader #munagenius x reader #controversially young!gf series

[manjibunny]

so happy to have you in the barou harmen <333 just letting you know now his fav position is doggy to prone bone bc he likes to see your ass jiggle and make you feel smol underneath him <333

Ahhhh Bunbun my love <333

Na but fr, this man also likes slapping your ass. He's the king on the field and cally you his queen in interviews for sureeee, makes sure you wear a jeresy with his number and name on it whenever you're out so everyone knows that you're his.

This man also knows you have a thing for his voice and whispers the nastiest things into your ear as he fucks you for the n-th time 😵‍💫😵‍💫💜💜

#★~(◡‿◡✿)(bunbun)! #this man is so hot and for what??? #but he's got this special soft side that he only shows you as well

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 1: The Clockwork Laws

Fandom: In Time

Pairing: Raymond Leon x OC

Summary: Rose gets a wake up call as to what it really means to be a timekeeper.

Word Count: 3,408

Notes: Warnings for depictions of violence and references to sexual content.  

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part

Chapter 5: Drained

“Hey, Raymond, we got a problem.”

Leaning back, chair swinging from side to side, he raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

Vaughn handed him a sheet of paper. “This is how much time was logged by the Timekeepers as being collected from Cyrus’s apartment,” she pointed to a line on the chart.

“Okay.”

“And this,” she pointed to a line further down. “Is how much was just entered into evidence.”

Raymond frowned down at the two numbers, leaning over the paper, running the numbers through his head. “That’s…”

“It’s about one duffle bag’s worth, give or take.”

His teeth grinded together, a stress headache already beginning to build behind his eyes. “Vaughn.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please tell me that it’s possible that someone who wasn’t a Timekeeper had access to that time between when it was moved from Cyrus’s apartment to when it was logged into evidence.”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. Shit. “Shit,” he glanced back up at Vaughn. “Keep this quiet for now, okay?”

“Of course, sir.”

There was the thud of shoes behind him, and then a clatter as Rose tossed her bag onto her seat. “Okay, I know I’m five minutes late, but there was the cutest fucking cat sleeping in this little patch of sunlight right outside of my apartment building, and I had to pet him–what’s wrong?” she ended her rambling when she spotted his face, brows furrowing. Raymond glanced around the office, at the other Timekeepers bustling around them, going about their work. He made a little jerk of his head towards the hallway that led to the restrooms, break room, and stairwell. Her eyebrows raised, but she followed him out in the hall. He eyed the slightly ajar door to the breakroom suspiciously, a few mumbled voices from those getting their coffee leaking out into the hallway.

When he reached down and opened the door to the supply closet, Rose gave him a look like he’d lost his mind.

“Please?”

She looked like she had half a mind to argue with him, then huffed, stepping into the closet. He closed it shut behind him and grabbed a broomstick, wedging it up under the door handle, effectively locking it before flicking on the single bulb hanging precariously from the ceiling.  

“What if someone needs supplies?”

“Please. The only reason people come in here is to have sex.”

Her eyebrows flew up to nearly her hairline. He choked. 

“That is not why I brought you in here.”

“Uh huh, sureeee.”

“No, I swear–” his eyes narrowed as his mind caught up with his mouth and realized her tone was teasing. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

She snickered, quietly. “Mm. Sorry. To be fair, I was only about ninety percent sure that this wasn’t some weird sex thing,” she moved a step closer to him, pulling one of her shoulders in to prevent it front knocking against a shelf lined with cleaning supplies. “What’s up?”

“Okay, listen,” he leaned forward, keeping his voice low despite them being alone. “Some of the time that was taken from Cyrus’s apartment has gone missing.”

“Missing? Did the evidence room get robbed?”

“No, it was gone before they could log it into evidence.”

“So…?”

“So the only people who could possibly have had access to that time between when it was transferred from the apartment to evidence were Timekeepers.”

“Andddd you know that it wasn’t me because we spent a good chunk of the day together and then you dropped me off at home where I spent the rest of the time before the party at the base eating cold pizza in my pajamas.”

“Actually I just trust you.”

“Aw, Ray…” 

He shushed her lightly, fighting a smile. This was serious. They needed to be serious.

“Who do you think it could be?” she asked, head cocked. He shook his head, mind going through the mental list of all the Timekeepers that he kept in his head. No one was a definitive suspect. Nor was anyone definitely innocent. 

Something passed across Rose’s face. “Whoever took the time, they would have already had it before the party, right?”

“Probably. What?” he asked, noting the way her brows drew in.

“It’s probably nothing…”

“What!?”

“It’s just…Cassius had a really fancy watch on. Like…more than a month’s salary, type of fancy. But he said that it was a birthday gift.”

Raymond’s blood went cold, just staring at her.

“What?”

“Cassius’s birthday isn’t for four months.”

“...Oh, shit.”

Outside, an alarm started blaring. They shared one quick glance with each other before scrambling for the door, shoving the broomstick out of the way and bursting out into the hallway. Jogging to the open office, he came to a stop in front of the map that was beeping insistently, the section that was Dayton glowing red.

“Sir, fifty thousand years was just dispersed in Dayton,” Vaughn reported. 

“God dammit,” he breathed, already, alerts at system instability were beginning to pop up. Fifty thousand years wouldn’t crash everything, but it wasn’t good either. 

“You remember when you had Cassius drive me home, after I was released from being arrested?” Rose asked softly, standing at his side.

“Yeah?”

“He didn’t talk much, but he said something funny…something about how it must have felt nice to actually be helping people when I was with the rebellion.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Did no one pay attention during their economics class? Did they really not understand how just flooding the system with time had the potential to doom them all? Fucking idiot just wanted to be a hero. But all he would accomplish was Dayton being hit with more and more taxes until all that time he just gave them was sucked away and the people were starving and timing out on the streets. 

“Vaughn,” he shouted. “I want you to take a team and go to Cassius’s apartment. If he’s there, arrest him, if not, break down the goddamn door and turn the place upside down.”

“Yes, sir.”

He touched Rose’s elbow. “You’re with me, come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Dayton.”

∗ ∗ ∗ 

They cruised idly throughout the streets of Dayton, patrolling through the areas close to where the time had been distributed.

“You see him?” Raymond asked, gum snapping between his teeth as his eyes scanned all around them. His stress and irritation was contagious, leaving her jittery.

“No.”

The car rounded a turn slowly, cutting through the people walking on the street like a shark as they parted to make room for the vehicle.

“How much more time does he have on him?”

“Assuming that he’s only given away fifty thousand years, about another fifty thousand. Give or take.”

“Hey, wait,” she stretched her neck around.

“What?”

“Isn’t that his car?” she nodded towards the Timekeeper car parked in the near empty parking lot by a gas station. She jumped as the car nearly spun with how fast Raymond whipped them around, grabbing onto her seatbelt for stability as he brought the car swinging into the spot next to Cassius’s car. Jumping out, they both rushed around to the car, peering in the windows. “He’s not here,” Rose huffed.

“Hey, guys,” Cassius was walking from the gas station, a paper cup of coffee in his hand.

“Cassius,” Raymond said slowly. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come out and check out that time that just went off. I was patrolling near the area anyway,” he pointed to the store behind him. “Just ducked in to get a cup of coffee.”

“How do you know about that?” Rose asked.

“I heard it on the radio,” he pointed to the car. “Thought that I would see if there was anyone suspicious around.”

Uh huh, sure.

Raymond’s phone buzzed, and he brought it to his ear, eyes near leaving Cassius. “Yes? Uh huh. You’re there?” he blinked, once. “Okay. Keep me posted.”

“Did they find it?” Rose asked.

“No,” Raymond shook his head, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Find what?” Cassius looked between them curiously. 

“Unrelated case,” Raymond waved him away. Rose began to walk slowly around Cassius’s car, peering in the windows. Nothing looked out of place. Raymond was continuing to talk to Cassius, questioning him. Rose didn’t pay either of them much mind.

“Ray, could you unlock the trunk, please?”  

He raised an eyebrow but did as asked. She rifled through the various tools they had stowed away in there until she found what she was looking for, swinging the crowbar casually from her fingers as she went to the trunk of Cassius’s car. 

“Hey, what are you doing!? Hey!” Cassius yelled in sudden panic when he spotted her pressing the crowbar to the trunk. He made a move towards her, but Raymond had his gun pulled from his holster in the blink of an eye.

“Don’t touch her.”

Grunting, she had to put most of her weight on the crowbar before the trunk popped open. “We really should increase the security on these things,” she said to Raymond before lifting it, peering around. It was empty. She pulled up the covering for the spare tire. Nothing. Just the spare and some dust. Slamming the trunk closed, she shook her head at Raymond. His lips were pressed into a firm line. A look of silent dread filling his face.

“Cass, I need to see your clock.”

Cassius hugged his left arm protectively to his chest. “Why?”

“I think that you know why.”

“Ray, listen—ow! Hey!” he yelped as Rose rushed him from behind, grabbing his arm and thrusting it out towards Raymond. Taking the arm firmly, he pulled back the sleeve, jaw clenching at the sight of the thousands of years ticking away on Cassius’s arm.

“If I ask you where you got that, will you tell me the truth?”

“It’s just a loan.”

“Of thousands of years?” Rose snorted.

“The bank knows that I’m good to pay it back.”

Raymond tilted his head, snorting in disbelief.

“It’s not a crime to carry around large amounts of time, Raymond,” Cassius said simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Cassius,” Raymond said sternly. “We know that some of the time from Cyrus’s apartment was stolen before it got to evidence, and we know that it was you. So please, don’t insult me with your bullshit.”

Cassius’s shoulders slumped, before he looked at Raymond, pleading. “Ray, please. How long have we known each other? Just…” he trailed off at the ice cold look in Raymond’s eyes.

“You're under arrest, Cassius,” he said. Rose pulled a pair of handcuffs from her coat pocket, using a firm hand on his shoulder to push him to the ground.

“You know what they’ll do to me, for giving away time,” Cassius was still speaking to Raymond. “I supported you, when no one else would. When you first joined us. Back when everyone else still thought that you were nothing but a–”

“I suggest that you think very carefully about what you say to me,” Raymond growled, and Cassius grew silent as Rose cuffed him. Raymond pulled out his phone, dialing and stepping away to speak to whoever he had on the other end.

“You don’t know what he was,” Cassius said, just staring at the ground. “What he still is,” he looked up at her. “This is what he does when people don’t have any more use to him,” he shot a glare in Raymond’s direction. “He uses them, betrays them, and then leaves them to twist in the wind.”

“Shut the fuck up, Cassius,” she said simply, hauling him up and leading him over to the car.

“Heh. Given your track record, you two might actually be perfect for each other,” Cassius snorted bitterly, she shoved him into the back and closed the door behind him. Sliding into her seat. Raymond hung up the phone and joined her at the wheel.

“What about his car?”

“Someone will come pick it up.”

“Okay,” they pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the road. Raymond cleared his throat awkwardly. Watching the traffic signs pass them by, she frowned. “Ray, you missed the turn.”

“I need you to listen very, very carefully to me,” he said, still steering the car out towards the road that led to nothing but open desert. “You do exactly what I tell you to do, okay? We’ll talk about this more when it’s done.”

“What’s going on?”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He looked like he was in pain. “It’s just another part of the job.” 

There were a few other Timekeeper cars convened off the side of the road. Raymond brought them to a stop beside them and killed the engine. But before stepping out of the car, he leaned over, grabbing her hands.

“Trust me.”

For a long second she just stared into his eyes, taken aback at the pleading worry that shined in their light blue depth. She nodded. “Okay.”

Stepping from the car, she watched as Raymond plucked Cassius from the backseat, pulling him along down the small hill to where the other Timekeepers were gathered, talking quietly to themselves. Rose trailed behind slowly, boots kicking up sand into little dust clouds. By the time she got to the bottom of the hill, Raymond had already deposited Cassius in the middle of the circle of Timekeepers.

Joelle was standing with her arms wrapped around herself, looking anguished and furious. The moment Cassius was tossed onto the dirt she lunged forward, slapping him so hard across the face that his lip split. 

“You want to be the one to do it?” she asked. Raymond shook his head. She shrugged. “Alright. I call dibs then.”

“I’ll help you,” Vaughn said, her bright red hair fluttering in the slight breeze. Together they descended upon Cassius. Vaughn unlocked the handcuffs binding him and grabbed his left arm, forcing it out towards Joelle. Raymond began to walk to Rose, sand barely making a sound under his boots.

“Come with me.”

“Wait–what are they doing?” she asked, trying to crane her head around to see. Raymond took her gently by the arm, leading her away. “I don’t understand–”

“Rose,” he pulled her along with him more firmly, tugging her out of the circle of Timekeepers and away across the expanse of desert. But while she let him lead her away, she still kept glancing over her shoulder, feet skidding to a stop when she watched Joelle grab at Cassius’s arm. He was trying to tear away from her, but Vaughn held him in a tight pin. 

“Wait, wait. She’s taking his time–”

“I know.”

“You know!?” her voice raised a slight octave in her disbelief. She tried to rip away from him, to go and stop…whatever fucked up ritualistic killing was about to take place, but he caught her before she could get more than a step or two, hauling her up into his arms, spinning her away so that she couldn’t see, caging her in against his chest. “Rose, Rose,” he chanted in his ear. “Shh. You have to let it happen, okay? It’s going to be fine. I need you to trust me, okay?”

She only realized then that she was shaking, a memory bursting at the seams of her mind of Luke grabbing her by the arm, pressing down as the number ticked away. Please, stop, you’ll drain me, you’ll bleed me dry, you’ll kill me–

Behind them, there was the telltale pulse that signified that Cassius’s clock had run down to zero. Then a thud as a body hit the sand.

“Shh,” Raymond soothed as a hiccupping sob burst from her throat. One hand stroked her hair, trying to calm her.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, twisting away from him. “You let them–you let them kill him.”

“It’s not that simple,” he said gently. “I’ll explain on the way back, just–”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!”

“Rose, please–”

“No!” she pulled away, turning and beginning to walk away from him, climbing the little hill they’d driven down and back onto the road. Behind her, she could hear the hum of other Timekeeper’s voices, but she ignored them, forcing herself not to look back.

They’d just–they’d just executed him. No trial. No discussion of sentencing. Just dragged him out to the desert to be dealt with; like they were no better than a street gang. She felt like she was going to be sick.

The Timekeeper cars roared up the hill and blazed past her, heading back towards the city. She sighed, wiping at her brow, the heat already beginning to get to her. Damn, she hadn’t realized just how far they’d driven out.

“Rose,” one car lingered behind, coming to drive at a slow pace beside her. “Rose, get back in the car,” Raymond’s voice was more pleading than demanding.

“No.”

“You’re going to get heatstroke if you try to walk all the way back. Especially in that coat.”

“Maybe I don’t care,” she grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well, I do.”

Her feet skidded to a stop. Raymond brought the car to an idle standstill next to her.

“You can scream at me, if you would like,” he offered after a moment of silence. Sighing, she finally looked at him.

“I don’t want to scream at you.”

“At least let me drive you back into town.”

A bubble of frustration rose in her chest and she let out a petulant growl, kicking furiously at the sand. “Fine,” she got into the passenger side of the car, slamming the door a little harder than was necessary. The car didn’t move, and Raymond sighed, hands hanging loosely against the steering wheel. “Talk.”

“Cassius was right. We couldn’t arrest him just for having a large amount of time on his clock. And even if we did, when he goes to trial, the lack of evidence would have him free in no time.”

“So you kill him?”

“This is what happens to the people we can’t provide substantial evidence for to be taken away but who, if we leave out on the streets, could cause enough damage to leave the entire system in shambles.”

“The people who give away too much time.”

“Yes,” he shifted in his seat so that he was facing her. “Rose, if we’d let him go, he would have dispersed those remaining years, probably in Dayton. And it wouldn’t do anything to help anyone, except cause the authorities to cut wages and raise taxes. And more people will die.”

“God,” she shook her head, staring up at the ceiling of the car. “There really is no way out, is there? No way to fix it.”

“Not without thousands or more dying in the process.”

She rubbed at her eyes, cursing when she realized that she probably just smudged her makeup to all hell. “How do you live with it?”

His lips pressed together sympathetically, a hand reaching out to stroke the back of his knuckles along her cheek soothingly. “At the end of the day, we save more lives than we take.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.”

His lips quirked. “We’re all stuck in the same system. Live or die. Seconds counting down. As a Timekeeper, you have a guaranteed salary that’s enough to keep you alive for forever, if you want to. And you have enough to be able to have a life for yourself. You can have nice things. Go out and have fun, do things without needing to rush or constantly be looking at your clock, needing to make every second count.”

“So I should make my peace with being selfish?”

“I don’t think wanting any of those things is selfish.”

She licked her lips, realizing as she took a breath that she was close to tears. “It’s hard to stop feeling that way.”

“I know,” his thumb brushed away a tear on her cheek. “We can’t stop the clock. Or turn it back. All we can do is keep it running. It’s what we do,” he gave her a sad smile. “Come here,” he gently pulled her head down, until it rested on his shoulder, arms wrapping around her. “It’ll get better,” he promised. Rose closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of leather and mint gum and the slight trace of cologne, and after barely a moment of hesitation, wrapped her arms around him.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

#raymond leon #raymond leon x oc #in time #rose mason #rose mason x raymond leon #my ocs #fanfiction #the clockwork laws #my fanfiction

[anemptypuddingcup]

Apparently I missed my baby Kenma’s birthday on Sunday so here’s a little interaction between me and him- or anyone in this case. (He’s gonna say you’re young bc I’m 18 and I wrote it like that-)

“Happy birthday Kenma!” You beamed, holding a small box in your hand. You handed the box to Kenma who seemed a little dazed, he didn’t even know who you were.

“Uhm…Thank you?” He said questionably, kindly taking the box from you. “I…hope you like it, I’m one of your biggest fans who watches your streams daily.” You blushed.

Kenma raises a brow and slowly opens the box. His eyes widens as he see’s a glimpse of money in the box. You looks back at you, a bit blush dusting his cheeks.

“I’m a big gamer myself, but hopefully this’ll get you the latest game you wanted or something, not like you couldn’t with all the money you have.” You laughed nervously.

Kenma could only smile at your kindness.

“I-I just wanted to give you a little pocket money is all..”

Kenma looks down at the box, and lets out a soft chuckle. He moves in and kisses your forehead, earning a shocked expression from you.

“You’re a little young for me kid, but the gift was so thoughtful that I knew a hug wouldn’t be enough.” He sighed happily. You were shocked and ecstatic.

He handed you his phone. “Maybe we can stream sometime together though.” He said happily.

You nervously pressed the buttons entering your phone number into his phone.

You handed his phone back after you put in your number.

“U-Uh, s-sureeee~” You said, your heart fluttering. He smiles and waves before walking off. Your heart felt like it had bursted after that awesome altercation with the the popular streamer, Kozume Kenma.

#kenma kozume #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kenma #kenma fluff #kenma drabble #puddingcupfics

[jotatetsuken]

everybody falls in love somehow

submission for: mailcarrier may server collab organized by @burnthoneymint @leydileyla and @scandalous-chaos (y'all should check out the works here for sureeee <33)

features: steve rogers x f! reader

type of writing: oneshot

trope: mail carrier au, strangers to lovers but with major angst

synopsis: when steve rogers didn’t feel that he did enough when it came to connecting with people that he swore to protect, he decided to be a mailman and interact with people to forge connections, until an interaction with a certain someone (you), changes him.

warnings: reader’s husband’s passed away, so has peggy carter, so angst (coping with grief), mentions of alcohol consumption (in one line), anger, fear of commitment, visitation of grave, character deaths, overall fluffy, not proofread I guess, lol, setting is after the 2012 avengers movie and before the winter soldier movie, a popular superhero makes a cameo appearance hehe

song: this playlist, especially everybody loves somebody - dean martin

number of words: 2.1k

(taglist form / library account, turn on notifications to be updated)

a/n: tbh, i didn't know if i was going to get this done on time haha, but i did. i know not many people think high of steve rogers, but i love him. so when @leydileyla suggested to write postman angst, this brainchild came into my head, and while i’d thought of doing an entirely new story with him, but this story just flew haha, and i hope y'all like this <33 likes, comments and reblogs, especially reblogs are appreciated. also, yes, my crush on steve rogers is back and HOW!!

Cold. That’s how Steve Rogers first felt after being frozen in the Arctic for nearly seventy years and then revived in the 21st century. Worthless. That’s how he felt when he was trying to come to terms with the world that moved on without him. Broken. That’s how his heart felt for a moment when he learned that Peggy Carter, the love of his life, had passed away in her sleep. Dejected, that’s how he felt when he couldn’t save his best friend, Bucky Barnes.

However, after he, along with the rest of the Avengers, defended and protected New York City from the invasion of the Chitauri, he still felt hopeful in a certain way. He felt relieved that people would now remember him differently, in a good way. Nevertheless, he felt that that wasn’t enough. He felt a strong urge to be in touch with the generation in front of him, that was deeply engrossed in new inventions, newer mentalities, and newer environments. He felt the need to practically reach out to the people of modern America and connect with them.

He calls Nick Fury, the man who brought them all together, and says, "Hey, I am retiring temporarily from superhero action. Following the events of the last few months, I need time to rest and recover.”

Fury nodded, replying, “I understand. You should take some time off for yourself. However, we’ll need you. So, come back soon.”

Having then hopped on his Harley-Davidson, a 1942 WLA “Liberator,” he donned his sunglasses and drove to Washington, DC. As soon as he arrived, he shook hands with the manager of the United States Postal Service (USPS). In the office, Steve expressed his desire to work as a mailman, and the manager was astonished. 

“What for, Mr. Rogers?” the manager cried. “You are a hero to many of us. You shouldn’t be involved in a blue-collar job like this.” 

Steve shook his head, and stated plainly, “ I understand that. However, saving the world isn’t enough for me. I want to connect with them, make children smile, help families reconcile, and I want to move around and be in touch with what the world looks like today.” 

As he leaned towards the table, he continued, “Look, when I can protect America as a superhero, I can most certainly strive to connect with Americans that I’d sworn to protect by delivering mail.”

The very next day, in New York City, he completed his orientation program and wore a powder blue half sleeve shirt with the logo, dark blue trousers, and a black leather jacket. He painted the motorcycle in the country's colors and attached a box for carrying letters, money orders, and small packages. Over the next couple of weeks, he started going house to house, door to door, delivering mail, and this caught everyone off-guard. 

He was glad that he could still draw well, so he used that to his advantage by drawing portraits of children with their pets, toys, and parents. This helped people feel more connected to him and his work and image as a superhero. Kids took pictures with him, parents thanked him, many were jealous of him, and many fawned over him. Well, except for you. You were looking at him from afar with ragged breath as your contempt for the Avengers, especially him, surfaced again.

One day, he’d walked over to your house to deliver mail, and he knocked on the door. 

“I’m coming,” you cried out as your scuttling footsteps approached the door. When you opened the door with a smile, only for Steven to smile back, he was then met with a frown and a closed door. You then closed your ears with your hands, shrieking.

“Are you okay?” He inquired politely, continuing to knock on the door as he was curious about what had just happened. Is this Mr. (L/N)'s house? I've got mail for him.” 

Suddenly, you felt the world turn red around you, as you screamed, “Yes, but he is no longer living here, and will never live forever because of you, so, please, leave!” 

Perplexed, he walks out of the house and calls Tony Stark for help. He earned a deep sigh from Tony, who answered, saying, “What do you need, Capsicle?” Rolling his eyes, Steve inquired, “Listen, I need your help, specifically JARVIS’.”

Tony shook his head in surprise, rolled his eyes, and questioned, “What, why? I’m pretty helpful too, thank you very much.” 

After Steve chuckled and explained everything, Tony replied, “So you basically want me to be your wingman.” 

Scoffing, Tony continued, “Not interested.”

This causes Steve to take deep breaths and respond, “Look, Tony. I need help, okay? She seems to have a problem with me, and I want to know what happened that led to her harboring resentment against us.” 

Rolling his eyes, Tony replied, “Fine. I’ll call you in a couple of minutes, old man.” 

After a few minutes, Tony called Steve and said, "Oldie, this does not look good. The woman's name is (Y/N) (L/N). Remember how many buildings were near Stark Tower when Chitauri invaded the Earth? Her husband held a white-collar job around that time, and one of the enemies caused his death, and we fought those who came toward us, failing to save him. I can actually understand why she's upset.” 

An hour later, Steve, racked with guilt, hung up the phone and slipped an envelope through the tear in your door. You opened the envelope to find a sketch of you and your husband, along with a letter in which Steve mentioned: “So, I just found out why you were angry with me. My heart breaks at the loss of your husband, and I wish I could have saved him. As a gesture of apology, I drew a sketch of you and your husband. In return, I would like to be able to provide you with closure if you could allow me to open the door.”  

When you opened the door, puffy-eyed, you saw that Steve had gloves on his hands and gave you a small box. When you opened the box, you found a locket inside that you gave to your husband for your birthday. The locket was in the shape of a concentric circle, symbolizing a vinyl record. Having been big fans of vinyl records, you two always bought something related to it, including a locket. As you held the locket close to you, tears streamed down your cheeks. The burden on your shoulders eventually lightened, and you broke down in what felt like ages, with Steve consoling you by splaying his hand on your shoulder.

As Steve continued to go door to door, and encounter different groups of people while giving people their letters, they invited him to different homes, and he had barbecues at a couple of them, some of them even encouraging and praising him. That’s when you started going out more often, wishing everyone a good morning. One of the ladies even commented that you’d started becoming more cheerful, and that gave you a sense of relief. Then you had an encounter with Steve and thanked him for everything. 

He then made sure to visit you now and then whenever he was done delivering letters, and you two would bond over glasses of Chateau Cheval Blanc and watch a couple of movies together, while you two shared stories of your upbringing. While he shared stories of his time with his family, Peggy, Howard Stark, Bucky, and Tony and the Avengers, you mentioned how you came to New York to work as a budding graphic designer and that you met your late husband at a success party in the company both of you were working on, and after you, two got married, you two moved to live in the suburbs while your husband went to work in the city. Over time, you two had gotten closer, something you didn’t imagine would happen.

One night, when Steve came to meet you, clad in a blue t-shirt, a brown leather jacket, and denim jeans, and with a serious look on his face, as you opened the door, he muttered, “(Y/N), we need to talk.” 

You nodded and asked him to enter, with your gramophone playing a collection of songs that you’d curated. As he entered, he sighed, saying, “I hope you know that I still miss Peggy, right?” 

You tilt your head in confusion, replying, “Yes, I do, the same way I miss my husband.”

He nods, continuing, “Okay, so we’re on the same page then. I’m also scared to commit to someone again. You know that, right?”

Raising an eyebrow, you inquire, “It is the same for me, but where are you going with this, Steve?”

With his arms around your neck and your arms on his side, you could hear both of your hearts beating faster. As you two draw into a kiss, with your eyes closed, and lips brushing against each other, Steve suddenly opens his eyes and takes a step back. 

He then replies, “I have to go,” and walks out of the house, leaving you feeling restless, and impatient. What you were unaware of was that Steve had gone to see Peggy’s grave and visited her grave. 

He then squatted and whispered, “Hey there, girlie. There’s this girl that I like, and I want to take it forward, but, Peggy, I’m,” his voice quivers.

Then he continues, “I’m scared. What if I lose her, the way I lost you? It would hurt all over again. If you could just give me a sign, your blessing, somehow, I shall go ahead and wait for you in alternate timeline. However, if you want me to wait for you, I can also do so, but just give me a sign.”

Someone faintly humming a song from afar caught his attention, the lyrics of which he recognized as “Everybody loves somebody, And although my dream was overdue, Your love made it well worth waiting, For someone like you…”

When his breathing relaxed, he felt that this was the sign he needed to continue. Looking at her resting place, he said, “thank you, girlie.” 

An hour later, while you were pacing around in the living room, you hear a rustling sound, causing you to turn your attention to the door. An envelope slid from under the door again and this time when you picked it up and opened it, it looked like an invitation to come to a park. 

Biting your lower lip in nervousness, you freshen up, get ready, and you get to the car to start it, taking you to the park. As you were told to walk to a certain area, your mouth gaped wide in shock to see a picnic blanket, some of your favorite snacks, hanging lights, and a couple of letters. However, you don’t see anyone. As you inspect the whole area, you hear someone asking you something. 

“Do you like it?” 

You then turn in the direction of the voice to find Steve walk to you with a smile on his face. With his eyes looking at you clad in your pink frilly long skirt, and white t-shirt, you run to him and hug him.

He then releases you from the hug, saying, “ I’m sorry that I got cold feet, (Y/N). I had to make sure that I could move on to start something anew with you. Truth be told, after everything that’s happened, I don’t ever want to take life for granted anymore and I don’t even know what would happen should I go back to becoming a superhero, but-” 

to which you then interrupt him with a kiss on his lips, and you release yourself from it with your arms around his neck, then saying, “I know, Steve. I was upset that you walked out on me, ” causing them both to chuckle, and then you continue, “but, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that for now, you aren’t Captain America, but you’re Steve Rogers, a normal guy that went around delivering mail, and that way, you found your way to my heart.” 

You then close the gap between your faces, your lips pressing onto each other, your arms around his neck and his arms on the sides of your waist, slowly dancing, with the moon bearing witness to a new love story blossoming. Who would’ve thought that both of you would get second chances at love again, all by the means of articulating words on a piece of paper? It thus felt true that everyone falls in love again and again, and when life gives you a second chance, you should never let it go. 

© Shyna 2022 - reposting in any other platform is not allowed

tagging: @saintlike78 @beware-of-the-rogue @wakatshi @hyeque @akaashi-todorki @ceo-of-daichi @ambieux @thesecretwriter @moonbcrry

#.mailcarrier may! #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #tw alcohol mention #tw death mention #steve rogers fluff #shyna angst #mcu angst #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x you #marvel cinematic universe #marvel x reader #musings of an extrovert #shyna muses

[namchyoon]

so hanteo "overcounted" the layover album by 600k sales??? SUREEEE. for some reason this ONLY happens to bts members have u noticed?? first jimin now tae. aint no fucking way your algorithm "miscounted" 600k sales... bitch what is so hard about total += 1??? TELL ME

literally just talking abt it on call anon like THERE'S NO FUCKING WAYYYY your entire job is counting like it's not a small number either like 600k is INSANE and what abt all the people who spent money on the album are we all insane like what the fuck actually

#ask #anonymous #this happening to jimin to somehow it's always bts....

[noctualagenaria]

Choose violence 1-25

all in one? ok you asked for it buddy

1) the character everyone gets wrong

- most if not all of the men, even itto he is Not a himbo im sorry hes literally a twunk,, or as much of a twunk as hoyo can make them hes also jus awful in general 2) a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom - my top fave is baizhu and he's 100% a switch hes both at the same time so this is difficult for me to argue-- alhaitham and ayato however !!! paragraph incoming sorry--

alhaitham is 100% a bottom not because he wants to be but because he doesnt wanna put any work into the act, he just wants others to do things to him, others doing the work for him basically dfsfsd so ofc that reflects here ( also flushed alhatiham expression >>>)

ayatoooo isss s s s i think also a switch but i dont think too much abt it sjhdf he could be a service top and a power bottom at the Same Time 3) screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

-- every diluc x fem!reader im sorry they are all so bad and also the unironic use of "yandere!(guy)" is,,, never done right or like,,, isnt good sdfsdf at all 4) what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

-- there was this artist i found bc i wanted to look for more diluc artists, right, as one does ! and then after like a couple weeks of tolerating the chiluc bc it started to get on my nerves, they posted a komi cant communicate diluc au thing, and in the caption they had literally said "i thought it fitting considering diluc deserves to be worshipped <3" liKE DID YOU WATCH THE SHOW???? diD YOU PLAY THE GAME?? ?? ? diluc doesnt deserve that nor Want that and the show character komi has a mental illness that makes it awful its not something to be romantisiced at All and they were romantisicing it AND diluc like aughhhh

5) worst discord server and why

-- main genshin server or the keqing main one bc i think the main one jus is Hoyolab part two (derogatory) and the keqingmains is just meta fighting over numbers n shit orz orz orz

6) which ship fans are the most annoying?

-- any and all popular ships but mostly the popular mlm shippers bc they are,,, practically if not Exactly ,,fujos basically (the popular wlw shippers are either Cis Het Men or also sapphic ppl 7) what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them? -- itto for sure, tho the more i saw abt canon the more i hated him, i jus saw a buncha fanon that i hated so sdfsdf 8) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about -- most if not all of them, most specifically kazuha/beidou family and zhongli/xiao family i fucking Hate that SO much because WHERE did it come from????? the infantalising short guys bitches??? fucking stop it

9) worst part of canon - ugh too much to fit here it could be a2 hour long video essay atp but mostly the colorism fucking Sucks 10) worst part of fanon -- also a lot, but the part that irks me the most is that No One thinks outside of the box, and im not pretending like im special or anything bc of certain things but like,,, at the mere mention of a rarepair they just go "oh no but i like (popular ship) better!" like ughhhhh stop it think differently 11) number of fandom-related words you've filtered - too many to count on twitter but here ive been spacing it out ;> 12) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them - baizhu for SUREEEE and like look at the everything about him literally WHY after his release whyyyYyyYyyyYY is he STILLLLL unpopular why is he STILL lacking in fancontent im ehrgehrgeehrgere upsET 13) worst blorboficiation - childe,,,,, who made him a fuckboy 14) that one thing you see in fics all the time - they/them pronouns for baizhu ( not a bad thing but not rlly a good thing im getting sick of it a little bit ) 15) that one thing you see in fanart all the time - diluc with a Bow WHY 16) you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc) - a LOT a fucking LOT mostly ships and the Collective Dynamic of the ships bc aughhh they are so boriinnnnnnggggggggggggggggg g g g g g and again the "found family" that comes out of NO WHERE

17) there should be more of this type of fic/art

-baizhluc 18) it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

-baizhu,,,,,, 19) you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

-,,,,,, tighnari-- and i used to absolutely HATE him bc the voice was so just IRked me so Badly it rubbed me the complete wrong way and ruined the character for me, yes i play in eng and ever since the recasting my view of him is much nicer now he doesnt irk me anymore 20) part of canon you found tedious or boring

-ayatos story quest he deserved better still 21) part of canon you think is overhyped

-,,,,,raiden and yae content 22) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

-- the fact that diluc is 1) BANNED from snehnyaha 2) got WASTED in snezhnya 3) was part of a secret underground organization WE STILL know NOTHING about??? it was never brought up again and 4) Killed his Own Father out of his misery 23) ship you've unwillingly come around to

-uhhhh is i bad i dont know, 24) topic that brings up the most rancid discourse -- "are kaeya and diluc brothers " and to that i say they are exes fuck both sides of the argument 25) common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

--"genshin fans need to touch grass" "genshin fans are the worst fandom ever" literally look at every other fandom, any big hit anime fandom ,, (ahem mha) are like 100x worse then genshin fans, like yeag we're ruthless sometimes sure and will chew each other out thanks to most of the fanbase being on twitter of all places but we wont put glass in cupcakes

#and yeag the glass cupcakes was probably fake but regardless its the reputation of the fandom that ppl rememer the most is it not #this was a Very long post im so sorry #anon asked for it so #anon.txt #long post.txt

[goldennikko]

the hint for which group is the number of crossed-fingers emojis I did 😋 (amount of members)

106) Orange juice vs apple juice?

107) McDonalds vs Jollibee?

108) Do you own Crocs?

109) First thing you would do if you heard that an asteroid was going to hit earth?

110) Do you use a long umbrella or a short one?

111) Have you ever been inside a broken elevator?

112) I'm thinking of going by ❓ anon, for question anon, is that ok? 👉👈 (super late to the game) 🥺

uHH itzy or rv?

106. apple juice

107. THAT'S HARD COZ I LOVE BOTH TT but i'm craving for mcdo, so mcdo it is

108. nopeee

109. sleep, so i can die peacefully jk

110. the short one, i don't like carrying the huge one around

111. THANKFULLY, I HAVEN'T???¿ i hate elevators because i'd get dizzy after. yes, my motion sickness is that bad

112. SUREEEE, BE MY ❓ ANON. DW, IT'S OKAY

#nikko reply! #nikko is bored! #nikko ❓~

[lacheri]

|| moon river. || part vi. ||

|| masterpost || taglist form || part v. || part vii. ||

pairing: Levi x fem bodied reader

chapter content: modern au, neighbors au, coworkers au, alcohol mentions, description of a hangover, emotional angst (reader's past), Levi is a complete and total asshole in this one, reader and Levi have a heated argument, minors/ageless blogs do not interact.

summary: in which Levi acts a little off. “friends hang out with each other, don’t they?

wc: 7.2k

a/n: ended up scrapping some of the ending, so the wc isn't as lengthy!! this chapter is dedicated to the beautiful birthday babe @esroh06!!! hope you enjoy <3

A headache is defined as a continuous pain in the head. A migraine — a recurrent throbbing headache that typically affects one side of the head and is often accompanied by nausea and disturbed vision. Two similar words, two similar meanings, two different severities of pain.

Which makes the definition of the word hangover, a severe headache or other after effects caused by drinking an excess of alcohol, the perfect word to describe your current state.

The sun is a cruel being. It intrudes in spaces you’d rather it didn’t, like your bedroom for example. It slithers its radiant claws across the surface of your mattress, crawling menacingly over the creases of your comforter. Finally, it reaches your face, taunting you by dancing across your eyelids. The light is loud, overbearing, and unwelcomed.

Your skull pounds, deep and raw with the texture of pain. Your tongue is dry, as if you’ve never had a drop of water before in your life. You hope you can find the will to fall back asleep.

With a groan, you roll over, shoving your face into your pillow. This only provides an escape for a brief moment, because with the appearance of the sun, you’re already awakened. Your body aches, but it’s ready for the day.

Sitting upright feels treasonous, but it’s an act you have to do. Your head spins, brutally sober now, and force yourself out of the blanket cocoon you’ve spun overnight.

You go about your morning routine with the least amount of effort possible. You dump a cold cup of water on Jeremy, opposed to the gentle stream you’ve been careful to do in the previous weeks. He’s getting his water, and that’s all that matters. Your self brewed coffee is made black, your breakfast is last night’s leftovers, and your shower is long, the water scolding as it flows over your skin.

You haven’t heard that annoying fucking clock go off once, and that realization is what makes you look at the digital numbers presented on your phone.

It’s five o’clock. You have work in an hour. You’ve only been awake for two.

You’re never drinking with Petra again.

“Hey, just wanted to text you and make sure you’re alive lol! Thanks for going out with me last night, I had so much fun! I would love to do it again sometime (:”

You hit send.

“I’m barely holding on, I just woke up lmao. I had the best time! Next time though I’m making YOU do those shots instead of me”

“Levi literally had to carry me home, I’m declaring NO shots for next time actually”

“Levi had to carry you home huh? (;”

“Not like that!”

“Uh huh, sureeee it wasn’t like that.”

A repetitious knocking on your door pulls you from your phone, biting your lip as you type out one last reply.

“He doesn’t even like me dude, he was just being nice”

“All I’m saying is I have my money on you being the first one”

Your eyebrows scrunch together. First one for what?

Another three knocks, and the sound starts to bite and claw at your eardrums. You don’t know if you have the energy to be cheerful today. You hope Levi will understand your bad mood.

The door swings too fucking loud, the hinges screaming in protest. You wince involuntarily, and meet the gaze of the man standing before you.

Levi’s glaring those icy eyes at you, “We’re going to be late.”

“Sorry,” you grumble, fumbling with the chipping golden lock of your door.

Usually, either one of you would make a snarky remark by now. You’d try to annoy him, strike up a witty conversation, worm your way into his heart. You don’t have the strength to today. It’s taking everything in you to stand upright, to not whip around and slam yourself back into bed. His cold demeanor isn’t exactly motivating you towards a happier disposition either.

Levi doesn’t make a single noise as you walk to the bar. He’s distant, walking a few steps behind you. Had you not known for a fact he was there, you would’ve believed you were entirely alone. His footsteps fall in perfect sync with your own, the streets barren and the noise thankfully dull. He feels like a ghost behind you, as if you’re the only person in this entire city.

The bar is empty when you arrive. Sundays typically promise the absence of a crowd, only a couple regulars lingering about. The usual older men, Claude being amongst them, sit in their typical barstools. They should’ve written their names on their seats by now, carved them into the wood. You’re sure their behinds leave permanent indents on the leather cushions when they stand.

Levi floats away to the office, and you tend the counter alone. With stiff smiles and a low voice, you make it through the night. The smell of the alcohol you pour leaves a metallic taste in your mouth, twisting and pulling at your stomach unpleasantly. You hold your breath as you craft the requested drinks, but it’s not enough to stop the overproduction of saliva under your tongue.

You’ll never drink the night before work ever again. This is pure hell.

Time passes by slowly, and you’re bored out of your mind. You’re almost tempted to ask Levi to close earlier, the patrons flowing out by nine o’clock. It’s ten now, and not a single face has appeared within the hour. You can try to distract yourself on your phone all you want, but watching tv shows gets boring and you have no social media to immerse yourself in.

So, your mind wanders like it always does. Back to the same thoughts that seem to creep up on you when your brain has nothing else to do.

Mikasa looked so heartbroken when she found out you had purposefully flunked out of college. She was the first one you told.

You had been doing well, fantastic in fact. Majoring in fine arts, turning in your assignments on time, getting high praises from your teachers. You loved it — until you didn’t. Highschool sucked, but college provided you the freedom of choosing your own path. Your mother had been disappointed to say the least, angry you hadn’t chosen a more reliable area of study. Like business, or even social work. She didn’t believe you could be successful with art, and you were hellbent on proving her wrong.

Until she got remarried. Then she couldn’t give a flying fuck what you did with your life.

Still, Mikasa had been the voice of reason for the majority of your friendship. She was great at that, being supportive. Even after all the things you had put her through, she was always there. Even though your friendship blossomed out of an awkward situation, she stood by your side through it all.

She was the one who told you to go to school for art. Mikasa was the first one to tell you that you had talent. Mikasa made you believe you had talent. You couldn’t have asked for a better best friend. She meant the entire world to you.

You spent every weekend together, more often than not at her apartment. Your step dad was a real asshole, and your mom’s boss, how utterly cliche. They met in your sophomore year of highschool, and by senior year, you were living in that man’s house. Had you been able to afford it yourself, you would’ve moved out. Though the man was loaded in terms of money, he and your mother never really helped you out in that department. So you avoided sleeping there at all costs.

Then you got fired from your bookstore job, flunked out of school, and moved to another country. So, you got away in the end.

You left them a sweet, simple note on the kitchen counter. “Don’t find me.”

You really wish out of everyone, out every single person you had left behind in that shitty town — you had told Mikasa where you were going. She would’ve understood. She would’ve kept your secret.

But she would’ve come with you, and thrown away her own life in the process. She was going to be a doctor. You couldn’t jeopardize that. You had already been selfish enough, ruining one of the most important nights of her life already. You didn’t have it in you to ruin her life on top of that.

She would’ve really liked Petra, though. Definitely would hate Levi, and probably tolerate Hange.

Staring at your dimming phone screen now, you realize you could still contact her if you wanted to. You know her number by heart. Eren and Armin too. You could text them. You could let them know you’re okay, and that you’re sorry for leaving them behind. You could finally tell them how much you miss them, how fucking scared you’ve been. How you don’t know anyone here, but you’ve met a few people along the way that have been kind enough to help you out. How alone you feel despite that fact.

You smile. You’d send a picture of your begonia, too. “Look what I’ve accomplished though, look at how hard I’ve worked. I did it, I got out. Come join me.”

If only it could be that simple. You’d do it in a heartbeat if you knew for a fact your friends would live happy, fulfilled lives here. But they’re six feet deep in student loans and chasing after a life they’re working so hard for back at home. Maybe Armin would’ve figured it out, he always did, but Eren was utterly hopeless. He wouldn’t have lasted a day in the city.

You can see him now trying to tell you that you’re wrong. Maybe you would’ve been, who knows. He’s not here, none of them are. It’s just you.

“You ready to go?”

You don’t want to look to your right, don’t want to see Levi right now. Not looking how you do. Your phone screen is black and your reflection is vivid in the glass. You look so sad.

“Yeah.”

Levi goes about closing up the bar, doing so quietly and with speed. Wordlessly, you leave through the front door, managing to wipe your expression off your face. Levi doesn’t question your blank stare and silence, doesn’t make a single comment as you head home.

Tomorrow’s your first day working alone with Hange, you should be asking him an abundance of questions. They stay dormant on your tongue, but there’s a longing inside of you. You want to talk to him, but you don’t. His energy is off anyways, he’s barely looked you in the eyes today. Maybe he’s trying to be accommodating for your hungover state, but your headache has long passed. You just feel tired. You think he knows this, but your brain feels too big for your head. You don’t trust your thoughts or your body at the moment.

The light bulb on the hallway ceiling is flickering, and you should probably let the building owner know. It goes out for a few seconds at a time, a distinct buzzing noise taking place in the absent lighting. Your doorknob feels cold when your fingers go to twist it, but you pause. It fogs under the pads, smudging prints across the surface.

“Do you know how to work the heat?”

Levi has one foot in his door, he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, “You turn the dial.”

“I don’t know where it’s at.”

“Ask the landlord. I don’t know your apartment.”

The door shuts. You don’t need clarification to know Levi has had enough of you.

Enough is a funny word. As much or as many as required. You’ve never known how to determine that. You’ve always been too much.

Or not enough, depends on who you would ask.

The mind is a balancing act, the human ego is fragile, and the soul is blinded. You are no exception to this, walking on a tightrope most of your life.

Too much passion, not enough courage. Overflow with positivity and kindness, crumble in the face of negativity and frowns.

Ruin Mikasa’s prom and fuck her date, become her best friend. Salvage all your friendships, leave them all behind in an impulsive string of decisions. Chase after your dreams, lose them all by choice.

Move to a place where you can be whoever you want, carry emotional baggage with you everywhere you go.

It’s funny how the world works. Nothing is ever enough, but it’s always too much. All of it is sort of humorous, in a way. A joke without a punchline. An endless give and take, actions and consequences. You wonder if any of this will make sense in the end.

It feels sort of lonely navigating the city streets by yourself — you make mental landmarks of all the cracks in the pavement, of each unique street lamp not yet illuminated. You’re on your way in for an opening shift, twelve o’clock sharp, so the sun will be setting on your way back home.

Which means you’ll be put to the test at happy hour, in front of the person who has the ability to determine your continued employment. Hange.

Warmth floods through your bones as you step into the bar, opposing the outside forces that seem to get colder every passing day. The atmosphere is docile, the supposed calm before the storm, and you assume Hange got here earlier than you did to open things up.

A scratch of your name on the clipboard later, you set up shop behind the counter, and wait.

You would have approached Hange in their office, but you didn’t want to intrude. Besides, you’re still not fully recovered from the night out with Petra. A bad mood lingers in the back of your consciousness, but a somewhat genuine smile covers its traces. At least now you can look at the copious amounts of booze and not have the urge to gag.

Claude and his old misfit friends show up about an hour into your shift. You’ve grown familiar with their drink orders, so you’ve had their glasses ready to be filled at a moment’s notice. Levi’s cheat sheet proves to be a blessing yet again as it guides you to choose the liquors required. The men grunt their thank you’s, offering polite pursings of their lips.

“You’re making out quite well, aren’t you?”

Hange appears to your right, crossing their arms. Their hair sways in their signature ponytail, glasses perched high on the bridge of their nose. They have dark circles under their eyes, so you wonder if they’re getting enough sleep lately. They look tired, even though their voice is bright and chipper.

“I hope so,” you chuckle bashfully. “How are you today?”

“Tired,” they confirm your suspicions, closing the distance between the two of you to help man the counter. “My partner’s out of town for the week on another business trip, and we just got a puppy.”

“Puppy?” your eyes widen in excitement. “Please tell me you have pictures.”

“You know I absolutely do,” they grin. “But one newly acquired puppy and one missing husband is a recipe for disaster. I have one of my friends, Erwin, literally puppy sitting right now. Or house sitting, whatever crisis happens first.”

You laugh at Hange’s choice of words, “I’m sure your partner will be back in no time.”

“You’ll understand one day when you’re married,” Hange smiles fondly. “Moblit’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot. I miss him being an idiot at home.”

You don’t think it’s your place to say it, but the way Hange talks about their husband is really sweet. A smile seems to convey those unspoken words just fine, Hange’s own grin only growing softer.

You do find the courage to ask to see pictures of their puppy, and with giddy hands they scroll through their phone to show off the most adorable photos you have ever seen. Hange excitedly goes on about the latest installment of the puppy series — a quick snapshot from before they left the house today, a handsome, tall blonde man holding the precious pup in his arms with a crooked smile.

Hange’s eyes flash between their phone and your expression, “That’s Erwin.”

You nod, “He seems nice!”

A pause, “Yeah, he really is. Late twenties, newly single, stable job, loves the outdoors.”

Your eyes leave their screen, “You should write his dating profile bio.”

“Is my pitch working then?”

Your head is thrown back as you laugh, “He seems nice, Hange.”

They sigh, tucking their phone away back into their pocket, “I’m setting you up with someone, I swear. Levi told me all about how new you are to the area.”

“Levi did, did he?”

“Mhm,” a smirk crawls on their lips. “Unless you already have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Haven’t had time to go looking for one. Not that I’m really looking, if I’m honest.”

Finding a significant other wasn’t exactly on your list of priorities. Making sure you could pay your rent and have food on the table was slightly more important. And to be truthful, you really didn’t want anything serious. You’re terrible with commitment anyways.

You’ve never really had a serious relationship, come to think of it. Your experiences, romantic and sexual, were fleeting. Gratefully, you can say the more intimate ones have been worth remembering. You can thank Eren for that.

“C’mon!” Hange says with a laugh behind their breath. “You’re in a new city, you’re cute, you should explore your options! They don’t call me Horny Hange for noth—“

Your snort ends their sentence, “I’ll think about it.”

“Erwin’s really nice. I’ll leave it at that. Unless, you’re saying all this because you already have your eye on someone?”

“You know, now that you’ve said something,” you place your finger to your chin. “Petra is really pretty.”

“Wrong coworker, love,” their eyebrows wiggle suggestively on their forehead.

Your palm flattens across your chest, your lips releasing a gasp, “Hange! You’re married!”

They deadpan, “Grey eyes. Black hair. Bad attitude. Ring any bells?”

“No, but I’ll be sure to check in with my doctor if I start to hear ringing in my ears.”

“You two are perfect for each other.”

“I know, my doctor is a really fantastic lady.”

“And this is why my money is on Levi.”

You’re slammed with the realization that Petra had texted you something so very similar yesterday. With a frustrated twinge, you ask, “Are you and Petra taking bets or something?”

“No,” they smile mischievously. “Not just us, Claude’s in on it too.”

“On what?” you ask exasperatedly.

“I’ve said too much.”

You narrow your eyes at your boss, wondering what they could possibly be plotting. Your pupils slide to the corners of your eyes, eyeing up the curly mustache man — Claude sits back in his stool silently, taking a cold sip from his vodka straight.

“You’re on thin ice, Claude,” you grit your teeth. The older man only snickers into his glass.

Fucking Claude.

“He won’t open his mouth, if he knows what’s good for him,” Hange jokingly threatens. “Or no more discounts.”

The bushy faced man takes the tips of his fingers, zipping across his lips and locking the corner with an imaginary key, throwing it behind himself. All without making eye contact with either of you.

The audacity.

Despite this, you laugh along with the brunette. Your shift seems to fly by after that, being forced into good spirits by the chatty brunette who does not leave your side for the next few hours.

Hange’s amazingly smart, and funny. They have you keening over in giggle fits with nearly every sentence, struggling to catch your breath. Hange holds such a bright light within themselves, the warmth bursting at the seams with every word that falls from their lips. Their smile is contagious, as is their good mood.

You nearly forget that this person is your boss. They feel more like an instant best friend, like Petra — like Levi, if he’d just let you be his friend already.

The ravenette in question shows up ten minutes before six, sour faced as usual. Still, your heart races in your chest as you take in his image. Levi’s gotten a haircut, his bangs resting shorter on his forehead, undercut perfectly maintained, appearance as perfect as ever.

You smile his way just to be ignored. You don’t take it to heart, at first.

Collecting your belongings, zipping up a jacket, you go to greet him, “Hey! I cleaned most of the glasses already, and wiped down all the tables, so you should be set for tonight.”

He simply grunts, not looking you in the eyes. Weird.

Your tongue presses to the back of your teeth, eyebrows furrowing, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Again, nothing.

You start to wish him a goodnight, but stop yourself. There’s an absence of amusement in his facial expression, absolutely no friendliness to be seen. Not that there usually is, but there’s always some spark in his eyes. Some kind of emotion. The silver of his orbs look blank, and Levi looks bored. So, you decide to leave him alone, and head home.

The same thing happens the next day. Complete silence encompasses your conjoined walk to and from work, absolutely no words spill forth from his pretty lips. Just half hearted grunts and nods of his head. He doesn’t look at you at all.

You don’t remember much of that day, only that your heart feels heavy in your chest the rest of the evening.

Maybe tomorrow, you tell yourself.

Wednesday, you work alongside Petra. Levi switched shifts with the strawberry blonde, unbeknownst to you. You don’t ask why, but it settles in a weird place in your mind. You hope he’s okay. As much as you want to ask Petra, or even Levi himself, you refrain.

It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk to you, which is fine. Petra distracts you with plans to go sightseeing in the city, listing off multiple tourist attractions. You agree with excitement, but you can’t help but think about your neighbor and his feelings towards tourists. You wonder if he’s ever been to these places Petra talks about, or if he’d like to go with the two of you. You’ll have to ask him when you see him again.

Thursday is when you start to really get upset.

You cross the street an hour before you’re due for your shift, and order yourself a coffee from the cafe. The words “green tea” fall from your lips before you can stop them, and suddenly you’re holding two cups to go in your hands. Maybe this will cheer him up.

Knocking on his door, you stand bundled up in a thick knitted sweater and your freshly broken in sneakers. The cups are warm when you first knock, but as the minutes pass, five becoming ten, ten becoming fifteen, the drinks cool to room temperature.

You place his tea on the floor, and text him, “Hey, not sure if you’re home, I got you a green tea! It’s outside whenever you get around to it! (:”

“Read at 5:02 p.m.”

You frown when the time passes on. He must be busy, or something. You leave for work, not thinking much of it, and Petra’s wide eyes and brilliant smile distract you once again for the night.

You see the cup still outside his door once you return to your apartment in the early hours of the morning. Untouched, and still full. Your heart lurches in your chest, the muscle squeezing tight.

You try not to think about it too much, but a flicker of anger starts to build in your stomach. Alongside it brews rejection and hurt. Your feelings are wounded, the damage cutting deep into your perception of the ravenette.

Maybe the kindness you had previously believed Levi to hold was an act. It feels wrong thinking that, but it could be true. Maybe he truly did just feel bad for you, and after helping you out, he was ready to sever all his ties to you.

You wake up Friday morning with a pit in your stomach. You water Jeremy, you shower, and get prepped for your mid day shift as slowly as possible. Sluggishly moving around your apartment, those previous feelings of hurt morph into a searing anger.

Levi doesn’t owe you anything. You know this, he’s done more than enough to help you out. You start to think about every interaction, every exchange of words you’ve had with him. Were you just a thorn in his side after all? A lingering headache in his skull that just couldn’t go away? Perhaps you had been too much for him. You hadn’t meant to be, if that were the case.

Maybe your need for human interaction was too overwhelming for Levi. Maybe he didn’t understand you and your way of showing affection. With Eren, Armin, and Mikasa, they had just inherently gotten you, and knew exactly where you had been coming from in any given situation.

Perhaps you had pressed your luck, overstayed your welcome in his good graces. Maybe Levi didn’t like you at all.

No, that can’t be it. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have gone to the extent that he has. Securing you a job, accompanying you on your journeys to and from the bar, being an active partner in your witty bantering. Levi wouldn’t have done any of that, if he truly didn’t like you, at least to some degree.

Levi doesn’t owe you anything, but it doesn’t cost anything to be a decent person. You hadn’t done anything to deserve his silence.

Did you do something while you were drunk that overstepped his boundaries? Why hadn’t he confronted you about it, if that were the case?

The maybe’s and the what if’s made your head hurt, possible varying answers only prompting more questions in their wake. Gritting your teeth, you stand outside your apartment door, arms crossed.

You’re solving this today. If you did something wrong, you deserve to know. If you didn’t, you’ll simply cut off any hopes for a budding friendship.

The click and creek of Levi’s front door pulls you from your thoughts. Your spine stiffens as you stare straight ahead. He doesn’t even stop in front of you, walking straight down the hallway to the stairwell, ready to continue his silent streak.

You’re not having that.

“What’s your deal?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level and calm. “Why have you been ignoring me?”

He halts, freezing in his footsteps. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t respond. You continue.

“Did I do something to piss you off?”

“Don’t you always?”

“Seriously, what’s your fucking problem?”

Levi shakes his head, feet moving down the creaking stairs, “Come on, we’ll be late.”

You want your mouth to move more than your feet, but the opposite happens. Your legs go on autopilot as you follow after him, this time, you’re the ghost in his shadow.

Like the rest of the week, Levi doesn’t say a single thing. You can’t even read his facial expression, purposefully stoic and blank. All week, you’ve been pondering over what could possibly be going on with him. Nearly worried sick, if you’re honest.

You get it though, you understand. When you made the decision to leave home, you didn’t talk to a single person for an entire week while you collected your savings and supplies. Not that you think Levi is about to run away, or at least you think he isn’t, but that silence is more protective than it is harmful.

Or, he just doesn’t like you.

Either way, you stop trying to give him a piece of your attention. If he wants to be this way, then you’ll let him. Levi doesn’t owe you anything, you remind yourself.

But if he doesn’t like you, why does Levi finally look at you when you stop pestering him?

“You really have to work after this?” Petra groans, fisting her jacket at the buttons in the center.

You sigh, “Yeah, but hey! We have plenty of time! Besides, Hange’s cool if I’m a little bit late, I already talked to them.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t been here yet,” the strawberry blonde snorts. “I mean, I wasn’t even unpacked in my own home before I visited the art museum! It’s tourist priority number one.”

You silently agree. It should be, this building is probably the most beautiful piece of architecture you’ve ever seen with your own eyes. The exterior is reason enough to call it an art museum — wide arching windows, stunning sculpted brick lining the roof. It’s beautiful, something you could only Google and hope you’d get to see in person one day. Most people don’t get the chance to, but standing in front of the museum, you get thrown into a new perspective.

It doesn’t matter if Levi likes you or not. You didn’t move here for him. You moved to the city because you were tired of not believing in yourself, not believing you could make something out of nothing. It’s weird, but this realization brings on some of the strongest feelings of pride you’ve ever felt.

You did it. You got out. You’re standing in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, alongside one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever met. You own your own apartment, you have a job, you take care of yourself and a plant. You did it.

“You’re in a new city, you’re cute, you should explore your options!”

Maybe Hange is right. Maybe it’s time to try new things. You’re more than capable at new beginnings.

Before the two of you explore the insides of the museum, you whip out your phone, and send a text to the brunette.

“Is Erwin busy tonight?”

Turns out, Erwin is busy tonight — busy talking to Hange, leaning over the bar counter, sipping a glass of whiskey carelessly.

He’s a lot taller in person, a lot blonder. You nearly mistake him for a model when you first walk in. Chiseled cheekbones, a jaw that cut slice your wandering finger, eyes that sparkle in a way that says “don’t you want to talk to me?”. He’s intimidatingly handsome. You have yet to work up the courage to approach him, but you know the second Hange’s eyes lift from his, you’ll be introduced.

It’s why you’re pressed against the wall furthest from the bar, facing away and wiping at tables. You’re fucking terrified. What if you like him?

What if he likes you?

You’d rather swirl that rag in your hands over every surface in the building until your fingers prune than find out the answer. You’re embarrassingly inexperienced, and Erwin is outrageously out of your league.

So is Levi, come to think of it. That could be why you wanted him to like you so bad at the beginning. There’s just something about that ravenette though that makes him so approachable.

Erwin is so hot he’s scary. You find that the spectrum of attractiveness starts at charming amazement, and ends with gut wrenching terror. Levi falls somewhere in the middle. Erwin is at the dead end.

You cast a curious glance over your shoulder and — oh fuck, Hange’s noticed you, and they’re calling you over now.

Fuck. Okay, keep cool. You got this.

You leave the rag on the table, straighten your shirt (low cut, of course), and will your feet to move. Your brain screams in rejection, wanting you to run the opposite direction, but you ignore it.

Erwin has beautiful eyes. You want him to blink so you don’t have to look at them. It’s unfair for a person to be this stunning.

“Erwin!” Hange grins suspiciously large. “I’d like you to meet my newbie!”

You state your name in a voice you hope isn’t shaky, and smile, “It’s nice to meet you! Hange’s told me you’ve had your hands full with puppy duty.”

His laugh sounds like trumpets, “Yes, but honestly, it’s taken everything in me to not take the little guy home with me everyday. He’s cute, you should bring him in sometime Han’.”

No fucking way. You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

Erwin’s fucking British. Like he needed another point on his hotness chart. It’s almost laughable.

Hange must see the surprised look in your eyes, because they immediately start cracking up, “Maybe when we get him potty trained!”

Erwin’s smile falters for a moment, “I can’t believe when you got him, you didn’t buy training pads. Moblit picked a fantastic week to go on a business trip.”

“You should’ve seen the look on his face when he came home yesterday though,” the brunette sighs wistfully. “He was so excited! A little confused, but excited!”

“Oh, your partner didn’t know about the puppy?” you ask. You could’ve sworn you remembered the words “we just got a puppy” had left Hange’s lips the other day. Emphasis on the “we”.

“Not my fault he left me alone. Moblit should’ve known better.”

You share a laugh with the two before shaking your head, “You’re something else, Hange.”

“That, they are,” Erwin glances at you from the corners of his eyes. You want to disappear immediately.

Thankfully, or maybe not, a clearing of a throat interrupts your conversation. The three of you turn towards the source, Levi standing with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

He says your name in a dull tone, “You forgot to write down your initials on the clipboard.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll go do that now,” your teeth tug at your bottom lip. You send Erwin one last smile, “It really was nice meeting you.”

“Yes, it was,” the blonde hums. “Maybe all of us could go out sometime, I’d love to know how you ended up in the city. Hange told me you just moved here.”

You nod, feeling the tips of your ears ignite with blood, “That’d be wonderful!”

“Clipboard, now.”

You clench your hands into fists at your sides, and grit your teeth into a grin. Hange offers you an apologetic grimace, and Erwin’s lips twitch into a frown. Levi’s in a mood today, that much is obvious. You circle the bar, and head into the hallway, not wanting to further piss off the ravenette.

It takes every bit of your strength, but you don’t cuss Levi out as he follows you. The angered words sit in your mouth and kill off taste buds, your lips a thick wall, preventing them from escaping. However, if Levi prompts you to part your pout, you can’t promise yourself you’ll be able to hold back every thought that’s been stewing for a week.

Of course, he does just that.

“Your handwriting is awful,” Levi grumbles behind you. “You could at least try and put in some effort.”

“Who cares? My name’s on it, isn’t it?”

“Do you even give a fuck about this job? You half ass every single thing you do.”

“What’s your fucking problem?” you slam the clipboard back on its hook and whip around.

“I just told you. You’re suddenly deaf now?” Levi’s words feel like lashes across your heart. His vocabulary has always been like this, but his tone has always been light hearted. Not now though, his voice is intentionally mean.

“Levi,” you breathe in through your nose, trying to calm yourself before you explode. “You’ve been ignoring me all week, being down right fucking mean, and now you want to talk to me, and all you’re doing is criticizing me?”

“Do things right the first time and I won’t have to,” he bites back, silver eyes blazing.

Is what you’re about to say worth you getting potentially fired? Guess you’re about to find out.

“With all due respect, go fuck yourself,” your hands shake at your sides, your body vibrating in rage. “I don’t deserve to be treated like this. I haven’t done anything wrong! And if I have, please tell me. Because as far as I’m aware, you’ve been an asshole for absolutely no fucking reason.”

“It’s your fucking attitude!” he snarls in the loudest voice you’ve ever heard from him. “You walk around like the world owes you something, like you expect everyone to fall to their feet and thank you for gracing them with your presence. Not everyone wants to be your friend, chérie, not everyone wants to know why the petite fille triste ran away from home, why she has no friends.”

(Darling — sad little girl.)

“Fuck you,” you breathe out, eyes brimming with fiery tears. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” Levi spits.

“Why don’t you like me, Levi?” you’re asking before you can thoroughly think it through. You throw your arms up in frustration, “I have been nothing but nice to you! I thought we could be friends. What a fucking joke that was.”

He throws his head back in a humorless laugh, “I don’t like you? J'aimerais que ce soit le problème—“

(I wish that was the problem.)

“Stop!” you raise your voice, eyes wide. “You know I don’t speak fucking French! I’m sorry that I don’t — Levi, you, fuck! You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through, why I’m here! You don’t know me! You won’t even try to!”

“I don’t need to know you,” he speaks so calmly it’s eerie. “I know your type.”

“And how far has that attitude gotten you in life?” you snort. “You want to say I have no friends? Sure, you’re right. I don’t. I just moved here, what’s your excuse? I’m sure it’s your positive outlook that brings home your group of no friends. I have the attitude problem, Levi? Maybe you’re so afraid to have a real connection you shut out everyone around you. Are you that dense? Oh I’m sorry — stupide?”

(Stupid.)

“See, you know French,” Levi’s eyes drift to the floorboards, his body releasing tension as he slumps his back against the wall. “Still want to be friends?”

“Is this what you do?” your voice is softer now, your arms circling around your midriff. “Push everyone away on purpose? I was worried about you all week. You wouldn’t even look at me. Did I do something?”

He’s quiet, too quiet. You’ve seen Levi tired before, but right now, he looks downright exhausted. As if a smile has never graced his face, his expression spells out how lonely he must be.

His words hurt, but you have the overwhelming realization that maybe he’s said all these things because he feels this way towards himself. Hurt people hurt people. Or whatever that saying is.

That doesn’t excuse his behavior though, you remind yourself.

“No, you didn’t,” he sounds as if he’s been kicked in the stomach. His eyelashes brush against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” you mirror him, pressing your back to the opposite wall, facing him. “Levi, I like you. I think you’re kind, funny, even charming when you want to be. I just don’t understand. I know you don’t owe me anything, but you’ve been so nice to me, up until right now. You didn’t have to be, you chose to. I didn’t ask for you to feel bad for me, I’m not asking you to even now. All I wanted from you was to be your friend. If you really don’t want that, that’s okay, I’ll leave you alone. Just, tell me what you want.”

“You really think I don’t like you?” his voice is monotone, expression unreadable.

“No, I don’t think you do,” you press your lips together in a tight line.

He carts his fingers through his hair, tilting his head towards the ceiling, “It’s, that’s not it. This has nothing to do with whether or not I like you. You’re right. I don’t know you.”

“So what do you want?” you ask gently. “We can just be coworkers, if you want to be. We don’t have to speak to each other. We can just be civil. I’ll leave you alone.”

Levi’s lips twitch upwards, “I don’t want that.”

“Then what?”

“You still want to be friends?”

“If you promise to never speak to me like that ever again, I’ll think about it.”

“Get your things.”

“Huh?”

Shit. You’re about to get fired, aren’t you?

“Do you need me to say it again?” Levi’s laugh is so light hearted it’s almost bone chilling. “Get your things — prends tes affaires.”

Your eyes begin to water again, your voice shakes as you respond, “Okay. Should I tell Hange?”

Finally, he makes eye contact with you, “Do you think I’m firing you?”

“Aren’t you?” you want your voice to stop wobbling. You won’t let your last few minutes of your employment be filled with tears.

“No,” he pushes off the wall, coming to stand a few steps in front of you. “We’re leaving, Hange can cover tonight. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be busy.”

“Why are we leaving?” you sniffle despite being completely relieved. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“Friends hang out with each other, don’t they? We’re going out, somewhere that’s not this bar.”

You take a good look at him then. You think you understand now — Levi’s been scared. As much as he doesn’t know you, you don’t know him. You have no idea what he’s been through, what’s made him out to be the man he is today. It all suddenly makes sense, in the vaguest of ways.

Maybe you and Levi are similar. You run away from things you find hard to deal with. His just happens to be the weight of emotions, of human connection. He’s scared of you.

“You’re not off the hook, just so you know,” you chuckle, running your palm over your forehead. “What you said was really mean.”

He nods in understanding, “I know. I’ll make up for it.”

With a brief explanation to Hange, quick goodbyes to them and Erwin, you and Levi stand on the street corner waiting for a taxi. Your arms are crossed over your chest, shivering in the late October weather. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, the comfort of the sun long gone. The moon greets the plains of the city with freezing solace.

“Just so you know,” you whisper, still not over Levi’s words. “I have friends. They just don’t know I’m here.”

“I’m not going to see you on the back of a milk carton, am I?” Levi breathes out through his nose in a laugh.

“Don’t turn me in if you do,” you retort.

“What am I getting myself into?” he’s smiling — teeth on full display, head tilted towards the sky. Levi looks beautiful.

“I don’t know, ask yourself in French and see if that helps,” you grumble despite the rapid warmth spreading in your chest.

He laughs, full bodied and completely humored, “Peut-être que ça le fera.”

(Maybe it will.)

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.

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