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angelamajiki · 3 years

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PAIRINGS: Father! Yandere! Enji Todoroki x Daughter! Reader

CW: yandere, incest, soulmate AU, fluff, slight angst, nsfw, kissing, praise kink, virginity kink, size kink, bathroom sex

A BNHarem Collab!

AN: my longest piece to date! the prompt this month was sex work, so i decided to stretch the prompt and do sexual slavery. wanted to go for a softer version of daddy endeavor, so please enjoy <3

5.2k words

The mark on his wrist was one that was shared with yours. Enji had given up on finding his soulmate, deciding that his career and legacy were far more important than some silly marking on another’s body. Love was something he thought he could go without. But when he saw your bright eyes gaze up at him, your chubby hand wrapped around his index finger, his heart had fallen hard—such a sweet, gentle thing. No traces of fear, of disdain, of disgust for him as a human being. Just pure curiosity and unconditional love. His heart leaped for his little girl.

Enji was determined, then and there, that he would never fail you, not like he forgot the others.

Oh, what plans he had for you, his precious princess. He couldn’t wait to spoil you, to marry you and start a new family once you were old enough. Rei realized this as well. Her youngest daughter, her last hope at salvaging her broken family, was to be had by her husband. The thought frightened her, especially after seeing the adoring look in her husband's eyes when she saw him cradle you for the first time. It was so unlike the stoic nature he held for the other children when they were born, only caring to see that they were healthy before leaving off back to his agency, never giving them more than a fleeting touch. It was nothing like when he held you, snarling at any nurse who dared to take his soulmate from the grips of his arms.

Something that had Enji’s conviction more so than his career was something to be feared. Your mother swore to herself that she would not let her husband ruin you.

Once he fell asleep with you tucked in the crook of his arm, a social worker came and collected you to be sent to a foster home and be set up for adoption. It was better than falling into the hands of the monster of a husband.

After the death of Touya, the pair decided to have one more child in hopes of fixing their broken family, but Rei now knew it was for naught. Nothing could save them know, especially now that Enji had nearly burned the building down when he discovered that his little girl was gone, just hours after he had finally found you.

Rei alerted the commission as well for your protection, that utter bitch of a woman. They very well couldn't have the number two hero caught in an incestuous bond with his daughter, now could they. All information of your whereabouts was hidden from him, blacklisting him from working with any foster children, lest he loses his hero license. Enji may have lost you for the time being, but his patience grew as he did. They couldn't keep him from you forever. You'd be reunited one day; he knows it.

The first time he saw you again was when you were fifteen. It was your birthday and the day he had become the number one hero officially, plenty of reason to celebrate. Usually, he would have taken the time to sit near the rose bush he planted in your honor in his courtyard on your birthday, renewing his vows to find and love you to the best of his ability. Enji took great pride in keeping your memory alive with the bush for his beautiful little rose gone too soon from his grasp. But there you were, mere meters from him.

The foster home you stayed at took you out for dinner when he was meeting with Hawks after the billboard awards. Your eyes were unmistakable, a perfect cerulean just like his own. He was so close, yet so far. My, how you had grown since he saw you. Unlike him, you bore your mark proudly on your wrist, not ashamed to admit to the world who your soulmate was. Not like you actually knew who it was anyway.

Enji was prepared to leave Hawks at the table; a new flame lit under his ass, one far more exhilarating than the thought of being the number one hero. He was up and on his way to speak to you before Nomu attacked him. Damn villains, they'd pay for separating the two of you once again. But his conviction only grew stronger. It wasn’t hard to find you after that; he knew what city you were living in. Instincts lashed out at him, demanding that he go sweep you up and hide you away. No, no. That would make you frightened; he can't have that. He’ll watch from the sidelines, waiting until you were of age to make a move. He was curious to see just how life as a foster child was treating you.

Growing up in the foster system had been a nightmare from hell for you. A cursed child is what they saw you as when your skin sprouted flames every time it was touched by the human hand, burning everything and everyone who came in contact with it. From the moment your quirk manifested, you were an outcast, an untouchable, unlovable freak. Someone destined never to feel the touch of their new parents, their lover, their soulmate.

It wasn't long before you realized that you would remain in the foster system until you aged out. Who would adopt a child they couldn't hug when they cried, hold their hand when they crossed the street, snuggle up to when it was chilly outside? Any potential parent was taken aback by your quirk once you reached for the warm touch of mommy and daddy, only to singe their hand or burn a hole in their shirt.

You learned quickly that your touch was something to be feared, that you were something to be feared. You supposed that’s why you looked up to him so much. So much so that you thought about him late at night when the loneliness seemed to drown you in the sea of your insecurities.

Endeavor was the only one who could understand you, understand your quirk. If only your soulmate mark could match him, maybe you feel the warmth of another human being without hurting or mauling them with your power. Abrasive he may be with the media, but there something about him that was so comforting and endearing to you. In your eyes, he was simply misunderstood, a gentle giant amongst the mass personalities of the other pro heroes.

Watching his interviews brought you comfort when you were lonely, his merchandise made you swell with pride and confidence, and his posters on the wall reminded you that you were never alone. It was a silly crush, but it made you feel better about your miserable life.

You even got to see him on your birthday! Well, not exactly. You happened to be in the same restaurant when your foster parents took you out for your birthday. It was apparent that they just felt bad for you, having looked after you for 15 years only to still have custody of your sorry ass. You were almost certain that they were going to kick you to the curb the morning of your 18th birthday.

Too bad they never had the chance. That fate would have been much kinder than the reality you faced now.

Once the Paranormal Liberation Front had effectively ripped society up by the roots and let the tree of life rot for the world to see, your foster parents packed their shit and left the country while you were at school. You’d been alone in the world ever since and were snatched off the streets, ready to be sold into slavery by the villains of the world. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being bought like a bitch from the auction floor.

Enji, on the other hand, was more than eager to do just that. After his public smear campaign by his allegedly dead son, he was dead to the world, finally abandoning his family for good in hopes of finding his beloved daughter. His life was dedicated to searching for you, having managed to track you down through his vigilante work. He likes to lie to himself and say that he’s continuing to fight for the greater good, but Enji does it just to have the chance to see your sweet face again. There wasn’t much to go off of, but he’d rather see his fiery end than to give up. That's how he found you at the auction.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Another auction night was approaching, which meant another night of humiliation and being displayed like a slab of meat for a crowd of degenerate wolves. Your quirk was the only thing keeping you from being sold; no one wants a fucktoy they can’t touch. It reduced you to physical labor for your captors, but you were better fed because of it. That didn’t mean they still didn’t try to sell you.

After being stripped down into nothing but a collar, leash, and a muzzle, you were brought to the stage and shoved in front of the ravenous, roaring crowd. You could feel their stares seep into your bones, the grime from the floor on your bare feet only adding to the overwhelming sensation of disgust you couldn’t even begin to describe.

The crowd’s excitement was raucous, jeers and shouts echoing off the halls of the underground auditorium. Masks covered their faces for the sake of privacy lest a vigilante break-in and hunt them all down. Even in the lawlessness of the world, heroes were still crawling everywhere to trail after even the slightest scent of villainy. Doesn't mean they’ll win, but hey, the death of a hero is just the same as the auction was to them.

“Up next, a darling girl with a fiery quirk!”

That was your cue. A handler had a fierce grip on your leash, giving it a few tugs for good measure as the crowd laughed at your stumbling. The auctioneer began to list your qualities and physical attributes, including your quirk.

“And she’s a virgin!”

Added for good measure, the crowd fell silent after listening to the abilities of your quirk. You couldn't hate it anymore; it's what was keeping you from being someone’s onahole until the day you kicked the bucket.

“Can I get $10,000?”

Ah the starting bid. The silence was relieving. Just a few more moments and you'd be off that damn stage.

“No? Going once, going twice, going-”

“One million.”

A booming voice came from the back row, the depths of the shadows to further hide the masked man who just bought your life. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Outstanding! One million dollars for the young lady!”

“Going once.”

It couldn't be.

“Going twice.”

This can't be happening.

“Sold for one million!”

No!

You were supposed to be unwanted, just like you have been your entire life! Yet some mysteriously familiar man outbid the entire auction for little ol’ you.

“Off the stage, bitch.”

The handler snarled, yanking you off the stage and causing you the fall and bruise yourself in the process.

“Watch it!” He spat, picking you up by the roots of your hair. “The merchandise needs to be handled carefully before reaching the customer. Let's hope he doesn't mind some bumps and bruises. For your sake.”

“That won't be necessary; I'll be taking her as is. Immediately, if you will.”

The mysterious man stood had already made his way backstage and behind you, standing formidably over your stark form. Your hair was released, dropping you back to the floor.

“Excellent, sir! I’m more than happy to get this welp off my hands.”

A brief exchange was made while you recovered on the floor, shaking in fear as the situation weighed heavily on your already broken self. The handler took the money and returned to the back room, leaving the two of you alone together.

The stranger crouched down to you and extended a hand to brush the stray hair out of your face, touch remaining tender and gentle when you flinched harshly.

“My poor girl, what has the world done to you?”

His coat enveloped your body as he scooped you up in his arms. The scent of him comforted you more than you would have liked to admit. Teakwood and coffee grounds filled your senses as he held you flush against his chest, leaving the auction house with a renewed sense of vigor.

You were placed in the backseat of a car before he dressed you in simple pajamas.

“Rest. You deserve it.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

At some point in the car ride, you let yourself fall asleep only to wake up in a cozy king-size bed wrapped up in a soft blanket next to a warm fireplace. The false sense of comfort lulled you for a few moments before your situation hit you like a ton of bricks. The anxiety you'd had known your whole life had finally kicked back into gear, forcing you out of bed and into the rest of the house.

It was daybreak, the sunlight slowly trickling in through heavily curtained windows as you walked through the halls and into the kitchen. The man was standing over the stove, sans mask, dressed in a wife-beater and his pajama bottoms. It couldn't be-

“Come in; breakfast will be on the table in a moment.”

Now you were certain.

“Who are you?” Your voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you buy me at the auction?”

A deep, rumbling chuckle flowed from the man.

“I think you know the answer to that, little one.”

His focus was retained on the meal in front of him. “I’ll explain myself over breakfast. Now sit.”

You couldn't help but feel compelled to obey him. While sitting, you took the time to honestly look him over for the first time in your life. Never did you think you would be so close to your childhood crush in such a domestic setting.

He had noticeably greyed but still possessed a majority of his red hair. Muscles were still taught and budging, but he had grown a little bit of a belly. Endeavor was as handsome as ever, aged like a fine wine that you couldn't wait to sip on.

The food was placed in front of you as he took the test next to you.

“Eat and have some water. Then we’ll talk.”

Once again, you obeyed him without question and refrained from eating like a rabid animal. It wasn't even a question, so much so that it is evident that you hadn't had a decent meal in a long time. You were still muscular from the labor you did for your handlers, though.

And Enji liked that about you. How resilient you were, he loved that you inherited his strength but still possessed Rei’s gentle nature. Not that he wanted to credit that woman for anything, but he couldn't deny the obvious. You were his strong, beautiful little girl who had to endure so much because his bitch of a wife decided to separate you from him.

But he was here now, ready to give all his love and protection to his only love. It took everything in his power not to swoop you up from your seat and hold you in his arms until his last breath.

Enji watched you eat, pride swelling in his chest at the thought that you liked his cooking. He couldn't help but wonder what your favorite meals were as well. There's certainly all the time in the world to get to know his little girl now that he had you. And he was never going to let you go.

Your breakfast was devoured quickly, both out of desperation for a real meal and answers to your questions.

“Why did you buy me from the auction?”

It was a complicated question, but you wanted a simple answer.

“I’m your soulmate.” His wrist was on display as he reached across the table to hold your hand.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Your one, shining hope was meant to yours and he wanted to be yours. You didn't even question how he knew at all.

His touch was warm and slightly rough, but it was welcome all the same. Even though your skin was lit aflame at his flesh against your, he paid it no mind. He was built to take your quirk, to take you.

“Endeavor…”

“Please, call me Enji.” His thumb rubbed over the palm of your hand. “I’m sure you feel better after having something to eat.”

“Why don't you go take a bath? It’ll help you relax, I can take care of your dishes.”

It was strange how insistent he was on taking care of you, but you can't say you don't enjoy the attention. He seemed to care for you in a way that went beyond caring for a partner, or in your case, a soulmate. But who were you to judge? It wasn't like you had a lot of experiences to use as a comparison.

Making your way back to the bedroom, you took the time to study the house you were in. A traditional, well-kept home, it practically looked like it was untouched. And maybe it was; buildings and homes fully intact were hard to come by these days, let alone ones that were clean and warm.

Enji seemed to lull you into an instinctual sense of safety, even though he bought you out of slavery. Just because he was your soulmate didn't mean that he had good intentions for you, but somehow, his presence alone filled a void in your heart that you had forgotten was even there.

Once you made it to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, you drew yourself a bath just like Enji had instructed you to do. It wasn't the wisest decision to let your guard down like this, but the man already had plenty of opportunities to fuck you up by this point.

The water was warm and inviting when you sank yourself into it; you couldn't remember the last time you had warm water to clean yourself with. It made you feel light and hazy, slipping into a headspace you had long forgotten—a place of safety and comfort.

Three raps on the door pulled you from your haze as Enji entered the bathroom with fresh towels. Despite the fact that he had already seen you naked, the intimacy of the situation only left you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

“Let me help you.”

He kneeled next to you outside of the tub and pulled a lavender chamomile shampoo from the tub’s shelf. There was room to protest, but you couldn't find yourself willing to do so.

Water was poured over your head before he started a lather in your hair, gently scrubbing your scalp for a while. Even this simple touch made you shudder, it was a long time since you last felt the warmth of someone’s touch. And everything about this man was warm, for you at least. His words, his touch, his heart.

Conditioner was added to your hair as well before he moved onto washing your body. The scrub was gentle across your skin, his hand following after it to help keep the suds from rising too much. Strong hands massaged your back and your neck, both of which needed the much-deserved relief.

“So tense.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

There was a comfortable silence shared between the two of you as he massaged out all the knots and kinks that had built up over the years with your handlers. His touch should have made you flinch but you found yourself pressing into it. A small moan escaped your lips as he worked through a particularly tender spot on your neck.

“Are you enjoying this?”

His lips ghosted your ear as warm breath tickled your cheek and neck.

Your face flushed with a fiery warmth from a combination of the steam, your embarrassment, and the man whispering sweet nothings in your ear as his hands worked at your tired skin.

“Let me help you relax, sweet thing.”

Enji picked you up momentarily to slot himself behind you in the tub. Placed on his lap, you gasped when you could feel his erection hard against your back. Fear started to trickle into your veins as you squirmed slightly, attempting to get out of his grasp.

“Shhh, it's alright, you're okay.” His hand made its way to your throat and rested there gently, stroking over your artery with his thumb. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. Let me show you how much I've missed you.”

His touch made you feel alive, feel wanted for the first time in your life. You couldn't help but whine when his other hand made its way down your body, gently groping your breast as his lips were pressed to your ear.

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”

His fingers toyed with your nipples, obviously skilled.

“Do you trust me to make the sweetest love to you?”

Another whine caught in your throat as his hand went further, cupping your sex in his much larger hand. He kneaded gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple when you writhed in his grip.

“Please! Enji-”

Shushing you gently, Enji’s thumb made its way to your clit to stroke in small circles.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

You were used to touching yourself, but oh God it never felt like this.

“Good!” You managed to choke out in a wanton moan. “So good! Enji, please, I need-”

A warm pair of lips sealed over yours, silencing you once again. Enji knew how wrong this was, to take advantage of you like this without revealing the truth. But he wanted at least to just once to have you in his arms willingly and eagerly. He wanted to kiss you breathless, listen to your cries and feel your nails dig into his skin as he gave you all of himself without a fight from you. He can worry about revealing himself to you later.

The rough pads of his large fingers started to apply pressure to your clit as his middle finger slipped into your tight hole under the water.

“Don't worry, little one. I'll give you what you need.”

Soft kisses were trailed along your cheek and hand that was on his that was still holding your throat tenderly. Finger pumping in and out of you, Enji whispered sweet praises to you as he felt your hole clench around him.

“Doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

Your breathy moans and whines only served to harden his cock. He felt like a teenager all over again, closing to cumming just from the sound of your voice.

Another finger slipped into your tight core, careful not to overwhelm you too fast. It was obvious you'd hadn't been touched before, not even by yourself. You felt full but greedy for more of his touch.

“Deeper, Enji! Please, can you?”

You were babbling at this point, writhing in his lap as he fingered you nice and slow with thick digits. Enji hummed as he pressed further into, curling his fingers into your G-spot.

Your cry was loud as he began to abuse your most sensitive spot, fully squirming in his arms as tears of pleasure breached your eyes. The sensation was too overpowering for you, making you thrash and arch in his arms.

“Shh, you're okay, sweetheart. You're okay; I'm right here.”

His fingers continued to stroke in a curled fashion, thumb still circling over your twitching clit. Enji kissed you again, deeper and more fierce as he began to fuck you earnestly with his fingers.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Squealing, you gripped his forearm and cried helplessly into his mouth. The build was slow and intense, allowing your orgasm to wash over you in waves of pleasure rather than a blinding, quick light.

“E-Enji!” You wailed. “Enji!”

You shook in his arms, holding onto the larger man for dear life as you experienced your first orgasm. It seemed like Enji knew your body better than you did.

No words were exchanged between the pair of you, but you could feel the tension of your desired hanging thick in the air. This man was going to take your virginity, here and now.

Enji removed his hand from your throat and between your legs in order to maneuver you to sit facing forward in his lap.

“Are you ready for me?”

His honesty made you flush even more. Biting your lip nervously, you hesitated to answer. Were you ready? It wasn’t like you had much of choice; the man could very well take you by force if he so chose to. But you felt safe in his arms, safe with him.

“Let me help you, my love.”

Warm, large hands gripped your backside as he held you steady above his cock. Your hand reached down to line yourself up with his throbbing sex, lowering yourself down on it slowly.

It burned in the best way, stretching you out fully as you pressed your forehead against his chin.

“Good girl, taking my cock so well, darling.”

A pitiful whine left your throat at the praise, hands gripping the forearms that held you in place.

“Can...Can you hold me?” You whimpered. “Please?”

Enji’s arms enveloped you and pulled you flush against his, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you continued to lower yourself onto his cock. Your breath tickled his ears, making him groan lowly once he bottomed out inside of you.

“Such a sweet girl you are, taking all of me on your first try.”

Another whine responded for you as you ground your hips down on his.

“E-Enji.” You whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer. “Enji!”

“Be still, little one.” Hands back on your hips, holding you in place near the tip of his girthy length. “Let me take care of you.”

Hips in place, the man began to thrust up into you slowly, holding you tight as he stood up from the water. You only gripped and nuzzled yourself into him further, letting out sweet whines and whimpers into his ear while he thrust into you.

Your back was placed against the cool tile of the wall when he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. Even in this position, he was still at least another head taller than you.

“Look at me when I make love to you.”

Through wet eyelashes, you gazed up at his eyes and let your mouth hang open as he rolled his hips into yours. His eyes shut briefly when he moaned, hissing at the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock so well.

“You were made to take my cock, little one.”

Arms reached up to wrap around his neck as he thrust into you, taking his time to make his strokes slow and deep. His hips were flush against yours when you asked him, “Kiss me, please? I want all of you Enji.”

Your bold proclamation stunned him for a moment before yielding, placing a deep kiss and a hot tongue against your lips.

His thrusts became faster as he kissed you with more passion and vitality. For an old man, he certainly had his stamina up to par. Your fingers thread through his red and grey tresses, tugging him closer to you gently as you moaned shamelessly into his mouth.

The pleasure in your core was more intense, fiercer this time around as his thrusts became hard and fast. The sounds of both of your moans and skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiled bathroom walls as the both of you felt your orgasms coming.

“Enji, fuck!” You whined, beginning to squirt on his fast-paced cock. “I-I’m cumming; I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, princess.”

With a choked sob, you creamed yourself all over his cock, which continued to pound into your hole before he groaned your name and came deep inside you.

Nothing but the sounds of the water sloshing and your labored breathing could be heard as you both came down from your highs.

After a moment of rest, Enji pulled out and wrapped you in a towel before laying you gently on the bed. A towel was wrapped around his own waist as he looked at you fondly, brushing stray hairs out of your eye sight as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I must ask, how did you end up at the auction site?”

What a loaded question, but the intimacy you two shared allowed for it.

“I was kidnapped off the streets after my parents abandoned me when the prison break happened.”

He sighed gruffly and took your hand in his.

“What utter fools, tossing aside a beautiful rose such as yourself.”

His thumb traced over your soulmate mark. You still had yet to know how he knew before ever meeting you.

“It's alright; I never considered them my family. I just wish I could have met mine, but at least I met my soulmate.”

A crinkled smile adorned his face.

“You've done more than meet them.”

What could that have meant?

“I’m your father and your soulmate, little one.”

A rock hit the pit of your stomach as you retracted your hand from his.

“That isn't a funny joke, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” His hand was quick to snatch your back. “What could I possibly gain from lying to you?”

“P-Prove it.”

“Our soulmate marks, I saw yours the moment you were born in the Hosu hospital before my wife separated us all those years ago. I can recite your birthday if you'd like me to, for good measure.”

Fuck, he really wasn't lying. A lump formed in your throat as tears sprung in your eyes.

“Why would you do this to me?” You whispered, barely even able to hear yourself.

“Because I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. Ever since I saw you for the first time in the hospital, my entire life has changed because of you. All I ever wanted was you.”

Enji was quick to shush your cries, using his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“Will you forgive me for being selfish?”

The disgust and horror filled everyone of your senses, especially when you came to a realization that he was everything you've ever wanted.

What came out of your mouth next stunned the both of you.

“You can apologize by begging on your knees and cleaning me up with your tongue, Daddy.”

TAGLIST: @tomurasprincess @bonesoftheimpala @sightoru @cxnicalsweetheart

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arcticfox007 · 3 years

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Suptober Day 1: Harvest

This is my first time doing Suptober and I probably won’t do every day (and am already a day late) but I thought it would be a good creativity boost and looking through all the other work it seemed like a lot of fun! Thanks to @winchester-reload for organizing this :)

Check it out on AO3!

Castiel hadn’t meant to overhear the conversation. He was supposed to be on break, but had volunteered to reset room 5 for the next patient because he knew his friend Alex had been in dire need of a break. Cas was only a volunteer, spending his junior year of college shadowing various medical professionals to get a better idea of what a career in medicine would really be like. When Alex had suggested shadowing one of the doctors she worked with, he’d readily agreed, knowing that his friend spoke highly of both Dr. Barnes and Dr. Fitzgerald.

He’d already spent the past few hours shadowing Dr. Fitzgerald (or Garth as he insisted on being called) and had seen enough to realize that Family Medicine was understaffed and struggling to do the best they could for their patients given the absurd constraints on their time. Garth was currently seeing a patient who didn’t want a stranger in the room, so the doctor had told Cas to grab some lunch. Cas had intended to do just that when he saw Alex making frantic phone calls at the front desk. When she’d hung up, she’d looked at the end of her rope, explaining to Can that one of the other nurses called out and she couldn’t find anyone to cover for them.

Which is how Cas ended up in room 5 wiping down the surfaces and pulling a new paper cover over the bed. Cas knew all about patient privacy, but really, the conversation easily carried into the room when the man who must be one of Dr. Barnes patients had decided to continue talking to her out in the hallway. The man had a compelling voice and by the time Cas realized he was eavesdropping it was too late to avoid it as leaving room 5 now would have only made the unsuspecting patient realize he’d been overheard.

“Um, and, I’m really sorry about this doc, but I probably can’t afford the bill for today’s services right away.”

“Dean, just call Meg like I told you. Our pharmacy here is amazing at finding co-pay cards for these types of medications.”

“I will talk to her, I swear. It’s just when we had to switch insurance plans the new one says the co-pay for that grade of medicine is $100 a dose. I’m honestly not sure I can make that work Dr. Barnes.”

“I understand, but you need this medicine Dean. Your RA will flare right back up without it. If that happens you eventually won’t be able to work at all. Even skipping doses is ill-advised, letting the inflammation persist could eventually cause permanent damage to your joints.”

“I get it doc, I do, but $400 a month? It’s basically choosing between eating and my ability to move without pain.”

“Dean, just talk to Meg. We will figure something out. At least promise me you’ll take the Humira every other week. I know it didn’t manage your symptoms well at the lower dose before, but it was still better than letting the RA go untreated.”

Dean must have responded to Dr. Barnes in some way Castiel couldn’t hear, because after a few moments the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading as they moved towards the front desk. Cas hurried out of room 5, the trash bag hanging unnoticed from his wrist. His heartbeat sped up as he worried that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of “Dean” before he left the office. Cas didn’t really know what he was planning on doing, just that he couldn’t stand the thought of this man resigning himself to pain all because the healthcare industry was such an awful mess that it would burden someone with choosing food over medicine. Something about the way Dean had sounded reminded him so much of his sister, Anna, right before she had left Castiel forever. That feeling drew Cas forward to meet a man he didn’t know. Cas couldn’t solve Dean’s money problems, Cas couldn’t force the government to change how healthcare was run in the country, Cas couldn’t even make Dean’s medical issues any better – but he could meet this man and maybe make him smile for a moment. Maybe, if he was brave enough, he could offer him some sort of friendship so maybe he would have one more person to help him through his struggles. Cas had been too young to understand how alone Anna must have felt but he knew more about it now. Helping people like Anna was what had drawn Cas to medicine in the first place.

Turning the corner Cas was startled to see what could only be a 6-foot flannel-wearing freckled god. The man was Hollywood beautiful and for a moment Cas forgot what had brought him rushing around the corner in the first place. The sound of Alex pointedly snapping her fingers brought Castiel back to reality as he broke of his inappropriate staring. He felt his skin heat up rapidly as he blushed.

“Did you finish room 5, Castiel?” Alex stared at him expectantly. Silently, Cas handed over the trash bag and muttered something about taking his lunch break outside. Too embarrassed by his very obvious admiration of the man that must have been Dean, Cas didn’t think he could talk to him in front of Alex. He rushed out the front door in the hopes that the autumn air would help him pull himself together. He didn’t know why he’d felt so compelled to talk to a man who’s private and very personal conversation he’d overheard. He was almost glad that his humiliating gawking had saved him from speaking to the guy. After all, what would he have said anyway? The air alone wasn’t helping Castiel’s composure, so he began pacing in front of the building.

“I mean how do you go up to a stranger and tell them they aren’t alone and that good things do happen? It’s not like it wouldn’t embarrass the guy to know I overheard him talking about his money problems…” Cas froze as he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Uh, hey man. I actually came out to ask you something else, but I think this just got awkward.” Cas took a deep breath already knowing it was Dean standing behind him. Cas’ habit of muttering to himself when anxious had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion, but never quite as badly as this felt. Sadly, his fervent wish to turn invisible on the spot was being ignored by the universe and he found himself staring into striking green eyes while wondering how he could possibly salvage this situation.

“H-hello Dean. I’m Castiel, and I can’t apologize enough for overhearing your conversation with Dr. Barnes. I swear it wasn’t intentional, I was cleaning out the room you were standing near and – “

“Whoa, hold up buddy. I’m not mad or anything. I mean, it wouldn’t be my topic of choice to start chatting up the hot new guy at my doctor’s office, but you clearly work in healthcare, I’m sure you’ve heard the same thing from lots of folks.” Cas’ brain froze a bit when Dean referred to him as hot, but then it caught up with what he was actually saying.

“Er, actually I’m just shadowing Dr. Garth for the day, but yes, I have heard stories like yours. My sister, Anna, went through something similar. That’s why I wanted to say something to you but wasn’t sure what. Then I actually saw you and, well, you saw. I’m not really good with subtlety. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” Dean threw his head back with a barking laugh and Cas found himself staring at the beautiful man yet again.

“Having someone like you checking me out definitely doesn’t make me uncomfortable. If it makes you feel better, I came out hoping to ask if you’d be interested in going to the Harvest Festival tonight. I have to work for a bit at my store’s booth but if you were free around 7, I’d love to talk with you more. Even if it’s just whatever you wanted to talk to me about before.” Dean smiled flirtatiously at Cas, and there was no way to resist that.

“Yes, I’d love to! Where should I meet you?”

They exchanged information quickly, and parted ways with matching smiles. Cas would get his chance to tell Dean how his sister gave up her fight with cancer because she knew her treatments were bankrupting the family. He’d tell him how he’d was hoping to be a doctor himself one day to maybe help someone else like Anna win their fight despite the shitty healthcare system. He’d also tell Dean that he’d chased him down the hall because he’d desperately wanted to tell him that maybe they were strangers, but that he hoped Dean didn’t give up and that he’d be willing to be there for him if having a friend would help.

Now though, Cas thought maybe he’d already made Dean’s day a bit brighter, and he looked forward to getting to know the handsome man better. Maybe his impulse to offer his friendship to a stranger wasn’t as insane as it first seemed, and if Castiel was reading things right perhaps friendship wasn’t the only thing they had to offer one another.

#suptober21 #arcticfox007writes #Destiel #Destiel fanfic #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural fic #yeah I know I barely worked in the prompt #my bad

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avi17 · 3 years

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MK X Pacific Rim AU Concept

You ever get an AU idea in your head and go absolutely feral for a bit putting it all on paper? Me neither, until now! This isn’t so much a fic as just a detailed wiki-style outline, but hopefully it will still be fun to read! I had a ton of fun figuring out how to translate all these concepts and backstories into the PR world. If anyone feels like doing anything with these ideas they’re absolutely welcome, just please credit me and link back to this post if you do! I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write this into some massive longfic, but I definitely hope to do some shorts in this ‘verse. I brainstormed this with a bunch of people, and got some fun ideas from @sxvethelastdance, @bastardsunlight, and @fallen-angel-lucifer- thank you guys so much for humoring all this!

Pan Pacific Defense Corps Marshal Raiden was a legendary Mark 1 pilot dating back to when the program was first launched. Based out of the Shatterdome in Tokyo, he and his brother Fujin, in their Jaeger Thunderbolt Gale, were the first line of defense from Kaiju attacks headed westward from the breach for five grueling years. However, they met their match in Motaro, the first Category 3 Kaiju to make landfall on Hokkaido, and when Fujin was torn from their Jaeger and killed, Raiden was forced to take down the creature solo- a feat replicated only twice since. The physical and emotional toll of that day led to his retirement from active combat, but he remained in the PPDC as a commander, as well as a mentor of other pilots. When the Jaeger program was decommissioned, he was the last one to retain his faith in it, and took up leadership over the few remaining Jaegers at the Shatterdome in Hong Kong for one final stand against the Kaiju. Current Pilots:

Liu Kang and Kung Lao Jaeger: White Lotus Original base: Hong Kong

The home base heroes of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, pilots Liu Kang and Kung Lao are the top graduates and darlings of the Wu Shi Jaeger Academy. Raised together in a martial arts sect before the first breach and drift compatible since their ranger training began, they are nearly inseparable- though Kung Lao has never quite forgotten how Liu Kang's scores just barely edged out his own in their individual skill assessments, and he strives constantly to prove himself his partner's equal (despite Liu Kang's insistence that such competition is unnecessary). Their Jaeger, White Lotus, is a well-rounded, powerful machine, featuring high-powered flamethrowers, as well as a system of fuel vents that allow it to set its fists alight and heat them to brutal temperatures in close-quarters battle. For ranged combat, it utilizes a circular blade mounted to its head, which can be thrown like a boomerang with enough force to slice through buildings.

Kitana and Jade Jaeger: Edenia Glory Original Base: Lima

Interplanetary refugees, Kitana and Jade escaped to Earth after their homeworld was attacked and overrun by Kaiju invaders. Their spacecraft crashed in the middle of the Amazon rainforest, and though they immediately searched for civilization in order to warn Earth’s people of what was to come, the first wave of attacks had already begun. After making their way to Lima, they volunteered to put their combat skills and close bond to use as rangers in the South American Jaeger program. Together they have defended the coasts of Chile and Peru since the Mark-2 days, though between battles, they spend their time in communication with the PPDC and the U.N., sharing what information they can about the Kaiju and other alien life previously unknown on Earth. Their Jaeger, Edenia Glory incorporates technological elements from their original planet not used in any other Jaeger, and is lithe, fast, and deadly, with a style focused primarily on precision bladework rather than hand to hand brawling. Its name is a tribute to their lost homeworld, and they use it to great effect to prevent Earth from suffering the same fate.

Sonya Blade and Jackson "Jax" Briggs (later Johnny Cage) Jaeger: Flawless Victory Original Base: Los Angeles

Both Lt. Sonya Blade and Maj. Jax Briggs had successful careers in the U.S military behind them when the first Kaiju came ashore and attacked San Francisco. Though at the time, Sonya was in the field pursuing the criminal Kano, she returned to the states when her friend and superior officer, Jax, suggested that they might be good candidates for the newly-formed ranger program. He proved to be right, and the two did time at the Shatterdomes in both Los Angeles and Anchorage, fighting off Kaiju from Canada to Mexico, and became well-admired figures within the military for their ascent. Though far from unscathed, the ostentatiously-named Flawless Victory is the last American Jaeger left standing by the time the program is decommissioned and is a tank of a machine, sacrificing some speed for the greatest physical strength of any Jaeger still on the field. Like the other American Jaegers, for long range combat it favors plasma cannons and explosives- particularly a ring-shaped plasma blast with wider coverage than the usual single beam- but it is at its most effective when delivering a crushing beatdown up close and personal. Johnny Cage is the star of a popular series of action films dramatizing the battles of the Jaegers and Kaiju, and to many civilians at home, is as much the face of the Jaeger program as its real members. He has a secret ambition to become an actual pilot and has an impressive record in simulations, but because of his celebrity status (and his personality), Marshal Raiden and the other Jaeger teams refuse to consider him as a true contender. However, when a vicious fight with two Kaiju at once leaves both of Jax's arms shattered, taking him out of commission as a pilot for the foreseeable future, Sonya is forced to accept Johnny as her new co-pilot in order to keep Flawless Victory in the fray where it is needed. Despite her irritation with him, they turn out to be drift compatible, and become a formidable duo in their own right.

Hanzo Hasashi and Kuai Liang Jaeger: Phantom Vengeance Original Base: Nagasaki

From the Nagasaki Shatterdome, the bright yellow Mark-3 Jaeger Shirai Ryu defended the coast of the Yellow Sea across three countries. Its building was overseen by its husband and wife pilots, Hanzo and Harumi Hasashi, and it was named for the legendary warrior clan from which Hanzo claimed descent. It was in service for four years, though Hanzo and Harumi always spent as much time as possible between missions with their young son Satoshi, who lived with them in their quarters at the base so that his parents could still have a part in raising him in a world that would not guarantee a reunion for families who choose to separate. Across the sea based in Shanghai was an organization known as the Lin Kuei, a private military contractor funded by shadowy, unknown sources. Though its bread and butter was anti-Kaiju weaponry, it also began to develop its own Jaegers- the only ones outside the PPDC, created from illicitly obtained blueprints, and hireable for the right price. Its crown jewel was a small, stealthy machine called simply Sub-Zero, unique for its proficiency underwater and tendency to use coolant as a weapon rather than fire or explosives, and piloted by two brothers- Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. When the massive Kaiju Kintaro directly attacked the Nagasaki Shatterdome, Shirai Ryu was the only Jaeger left to defend it. Desperate, the Hasashis attempted to contact the Lin Kuei, as they were closer than the nearest other Shatterdome in Tokyo. They received no response and were forced into battle alone, and though they prevailed, the price was too high- not only Harumi’s life when part of their cockpit was crushed, but Satoshi’s as well, buried in the wreckage of the base. In his grief, Hanzo blamed the Lin Kuei- particularly Bi-Han, with whom he had never gotten along- for what he perceived as a failure to act due to greed and amorality. What Hanzo did not know that day was that they were experiencing the first double event in history, and Sub-Zero and the Lin Kuei were under attack by the Kaiju Sheeva at the same time. The Kaiju hivemind had figured out Sub-Zero’s usual strategy of attacking from the water, and were ready with an acidic bite that tore a hole in the cockpit, which rapidly flooded. After a similar failure to make contact with Shirai Ryu, Bi-Han was swept out into the sea and presumably drowned (though his body was never recovered), but Kuai Liang, despite a bleeding face and water up to his neck, managed to kill the Kaiju mere moments before Sub-Zero ceased to function. After his release from medical, a furious Kuai Liang set off immediately for the remains of the Nagasaki Shatterdome to confront Hanzo for his failure to respond to the attack, since Shanghai was within Nagasaki's area of coverage. Both blinded by rage, they nearly got into a fistfight in the middle of the base, but once they realized what had truly happened, their anger cooled. They bonded over their grief, and the unfathomable experience of having to pilot a Jaeger alone after such loss- and in the process, discovered they were drift compatible, and that they both wished to continue the fight in retaliation for what the Kaiju had done to their families. Their new Jaeger, Phantom Vengeance, is a strange sight- constructed from salvaged pieces of both Sub-Zero and Shirai Ryu (along with some newer tech to fill the gaps), it looks as much like a walking ghost as its pilots. However, it should not be underestimated based on its appearance. Quick and light (for a Jaeger), it features a retractable grappling hook to drag Kaiju into the range of its blasts of powerful coolant, and a devastating grip to snap them like twigs once frozen.

Other Players:

After the destruction of Sub-Zero and the defection of Kuai Liang, the Lin Kuei concluded that the problem with the Jaeger program was the human element of drift compatibility, which limited the number of possible pilots and held them back due to concern for their partners in battle. Therefore, in secret, they began a series of horrific experiments, fusing subjects with their Jaegers to operate more like batteries than true pilots, and erasing their memories through drugging and electric shock in order to create blank minds that could operate together without the complications of emotion. Assassins Cyrax and Sektor, along with Kuai Liang’s close friend Tomas Vrbada, were among the subjects of this initiative, forced to operate a three-armed machine called Triborg.

Shang Tsung is a scientist, shunned from the academic community and at times running afoul of the law for his unethical- if not outright twisted- biological experiments. He and Marshal Raiden have crossed paths in the past, and though no one knows the details, their enmity towards each other is clear. However, in his desperation after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, Raiden had Shang Tsung brought from prison to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, and gave him access to whatever parts he needed to find a way to destroy the Kaiju- by any means necessary. Shang Tsung agreed partly because of the money offered, but mostly because the world's destruction would throw quite the wrench into his own personal goals. (And maybe because it was deeply satisfying- and perhaps useful- to have the Marshal in his debt.) Where his allegiance will lie at the end of the day, however, is anyone's guess.

For such experiments, one needs a steady supply of Kaiju parts, and for contraband like that, Raiden had to look even lower- to the crime syndicate the Black Dragon, led by Kano and including his associates, Kabal and Erron Black. Though once mercenaries dealing in everything from illicit arms trading to assassination, the Black Dragon followed the money and and put all their resources into the trafficking of Kaiju parts. With demand so high, they have become immensely powerful, but their involvement with the PPDC in the name of greater profits ends up bringing Kano face to face with his old nemesis, Sonya Blade- with predictably violent results.

Nightwolf was the historian of the Matoka tribe, which had long ago predicted a great cataclysm that would bring about the end of life on earth. Though he had been skeptical that such legends were real, when that cataclysm came to pass in the form of the Kaiju invasion, Nightwolf was not content to merely await a prophesied destruction. He left home and applied for the ranger program, but although he trained toward being a pilot and had the necessary combat skills, he never found a partner with whom he was drift compatible. Rather than dwell on this with resentment, he pivoted his focus into other ways he could help, and found his place as a technician and LOCCENT officer. Transferred to Hong Kong after the decommissioning of the Jaeger program, he was the rangers’ primary point of communication with the base while in battle.

Though most of the world fears the Kaiju, there are also those who worship them, and such admiration has evolved over the years into a full-blown religion. The shadowy high priest of this cult is Quan Chi, who claims that the Kaiju have been sent by the God of Death himself- to end the days of humans on Earth as we so richly deserve. Recently, a strange, hollow-eyed man calling himself Noob Saibot has appeared like a shadow at Quan Chi’s side, serving as his personal bodyguard against all threats and a fellow ardent believer in the inevitability of humanity’s destruction. Mileena is a grotesque fusion of Kaiju DNA with that of Kitana, which was stolen against her will when she was injured and bled during the invasion of Edenia. She enters Earth as a general of the Kaiju, connected to their hivemind, along with the first Category 5 to ever come through the breach, Goro. Together, they intend to ensure the will of their creator and the ruler of the Anteverse- Shao Kahn- is carried out.

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watevermelon · 4 years

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Cheater!Akaashi x Reader

✧ Summary: (Continuation) Akaashi is still in love with you and begs for your forgiveness.

➳ A/N: It surprised me how many people wanted a part 2 to Akaashi’s initial cheating imagine, but here we are!! Ask and you shall receive. People want good things for the reader and I agree -- that’s too bad this is what we got instead LMAO ➳ Masterlist ➳ Part One

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You could’ve gone the rest of your high school career without ever having to hear the word volleyball ever again. The only interest you had in it was from your ex-boyfriend and now any reminder just left a bitter pang in the pit of your stomach.

Thankfully, Akaashi was not in your class and there actually were not any volleyball players in your homeroom. But that didn’t stop them from popping up in your peripherals or in some rumours around school.

Some of the members of the volleyball team would shoot looks at you, whether out of pity or curiosity, you couldn't care less. You fostered your own relationships with the athletes individually - whether it was Haruki’s strange brand of humor, Sarukui’s constant references to memes, or Wataru’s lopsided smiles - you knew them.

You shared, or rather suffered together, in a class with Konoha the year before. A bright first year with no friends yet, Konoha was a nice person and the first one of the entire volleyball team to actually speak to you. He was even the one to introduce you to both Akaashi and Bokuto.

Out of the bunch, Konoha was often a tag-along when it came to hangouts. Whether it was to the arcade or the movie theatres, you and your (ex)boyfriend were quick to include the others. And usually Bokuto and Konoha would come along as well. Looking back, now you felt like an idiot, Konoha was one thing, but Bokuto was always there.

Nonetheless, as a member of the volleyball team, you knew Konoha was close to Akaashi. And there was no doubt which side he would be taking, no matter the moral high-ground.

There was too much history there and there would be no attempt on your part to salvage the friendships you had with the volleyball team.

There was no doubt of the curiosity in everyone’s minds the moment you and Akaashi were broken-up and there was a new person he was holding hands with. It went from general confusion to malicious rumours. Akaashi was the silent boy next door, the person everyone thought to be the perfect boyfriend without a bad bone in his body.

Some said that he broke up with you because you were too mean, too boring, or he simply lost interest in your boring lifestyle.

If only other people knew what he had done to you and Bokuto.

You didn’t believe this was the hill you wanted to die on. And so you ignored the carefully whispers that followed you in the hallways. Your best friends urged you to clear your name - you were the wronged party so why must you be the one to continue suffering? But this was not something you wanted to bring up again, not something you wanted to think about and relive after how painful it was the first time.

But it seemed the volleyball Gods really hated you.

Konoha approached you one day, after class had just ended but before extracurricular clubs were about to start.

“Hi.” He stood beside your locker as you organized your things, “Can we talk?”

You nodded wordlessly, packing up your bookbag and following him out the door. He guided you toward the outside fountain by the athletic building, not many students passing by as they rushed home through the main entrance. A part of you worried that some of the other volleyball members would pass by as you sat there together, but then you realized that it was no longer your problem.

You were seated on the edge, silently watching his pensive expression before he finally turned to you.

“I feel like I owe you an apology.” He started.

“What, why?”

“I could’ve told you a year ago that something strange was happening between Akaashi and Bokuto.”

You felt a lump in your throat, not sure what to say.

He shook his head and turned away, “There was something there even before you two were dating. And so even when Akaashi asked you out, I bet you were surprised?’

You frowned, but agreed quietly with a nod of your head.

“We barely knew each other at the time.”

Konoha scoffed, you were unsure why exactly, but he continued, “Out of curiosity, why did you agree?”

You smiled back wistfully at the memory, remembering how you had excitedly texted your friends on how the Akaashi Keiji had asked you to be his girlfriend.

“It was so simple back then.” You explained, “He was the kind, pretty setter of the nationally-ranked volleyball team. It was shallow, based off of what little I heard about.”

“But you grew to love him.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed, “And look what that brought me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Haruki passed by, texting away on his phone, mind on something else before he spotted the two of you. He waved at Konoha first before his eyes landed on you, widening in obvious surprise before he shot you a genuinely wide smile.

“A lot of them miss you too.” Konoha explained.

“Well sorry, I tend to avoid anything regarding the volleyball team these days.”

“Don’t worry, as much as this sucks, we understand.” Konoha frowned, clenching one of his hands into a fist in annoyance at the situation.

“But I do miss you guys too.” You added.

Konoha smiled, fondly remembering the last time you had all gone to the arcade, “Who could forget the time you beat Haruki at Dance Dance Revolution?”

“He certainly did not.” You recalled, “He kept challenging me all the way up to mid-terms.”

Konoha laughed, no one on the team was able to defeat the libero. And yet here you were, all smiles and confidence radiating off of you, bringing the third year to his knees. It made Konoha wonder if the last year could have been different.

When Akaashi had approached you, Konoha had dutifully stood to the side. The setter was one of his closest friends and never had he approached anyone in the past. He was often busy with the team or Bokuto. And for Akaashi to have asked you, it meant he was serious. And so Konoha had stood to the side, his crush on you mollified if that meant you’d be happier with the setter your age.

If Konoha had the courage to ask you out instead, would you still be close to the volleyball team? Would you be celebrating an anniversary together rather than crying over some lecherous bastard he called a friend?

You sighed and turned to Konoha, registering his earlier words. “Why are you sorry?”

“What?”

“Why are you sorry about what happened with Akaashi?”

“Ah.” He raked an open palm through his hair. “Maybe I could have stopped you.”

“What?” You asked, a confused smile on your face.

“I introduced the two of you after all.” He explained.

“Shut up.” You said in a teasing tone, “No one could have stopped it. I was just dumb enough to fall for him.”

Konoha shot a small grin back at you, “Yeah, you were.”

Sighing loudly, you made sure you had all your stuff before standing. “I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.” Konoha held out a hand for you to shake, “I hope we can still be friends.”

It was odd, to feel the small blossom of something in the pit of your stomach. This was Konoha, your friend of two years at this point. This was nothing more than him trying his best to affirm your friendship, you reminded yourself.

“I hope so too.”

And, to his credit, he really did try. It was simple things - you had each other’s chat ID’s from your shared class together and, every once in a while, he would send you a meme or a small tidbit of information. You still had things in common, subjects ranging from the current shounen anime and TV shows you kept up with.

It was refreshing to talk to him. Your friends had your back, but the school’s curiosity was not easily satisfied with time. People were naturally nosy, eager to know the true reasons behind your failed relationship. Both you and Akaashi had yet to even address it and it only got worse with Bokuto’s increasing PDA.

Thankfully, no one was audacious enough to actually approach you about the situation. No one else was involved in your relationship and they had no right to actually point fingers.

That was until someone had the audacity to come up to you during the free period, most of everyone on campus enjoying their lunches.

You were sitting at your usual table, waiting for your friends to come from their respective classrooms when one of the more annoying third-years came up to you.

You recognized her as president of the Fukurodani Volleyball fanclub, this should be fun.

“I think you should apologize to Akaashi-san.”

You closed your book and looked up. The usual bustle of the lunchroom was dying down, many people silencing as they turned to the interaction.

“What?”

“For wasting his time - he deserved so much better than you.” She bit out cruelly, the other girls behind her nodding in agreement. “And we all think it’s high time you beg for forgiveness.”

You stood up, pure annoyance rolling off of you. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? I don’t?” She challenged, “Why would Akaashi date you of all people? And now that the two of you are broken-up he’s been sadder than I’ve ever seen him! This is your fault!”

You slapped your book down and raised your chin, “If that’s what you honestly think then you’re as ignorant as you are a meddling piece of shit.”

The murmurs that followed were obvious, people listening in to your harsh response.

She raised her hand as if to slap you, obviously offended at being called out to the entire lunchroom. “Why I outta --”

But the offending hand never came.

“Leave her alone.”

You could recognize your ex-boyfriend’s voice anywhere. Turning, you saw Bokuto enter your field of vision and grasp at her wrist in a tight hold, held high above your head. Akaashi was standing on the other side in front of you, an arm-outstretched as if to protect you from the group of girls.

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” Akaashi stated clearly, his gaze was unwavering from the girl, but you were sure that the entire room was now listening in. “It was me.”

She stuttered, attempting to save face, “Akaashi-san, surely that’s not true.”

He turned to her, his blank expression now marginally colder. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

The mean third-year visibility recoiled, turning to you and apologizing under her breath. Bokuto swung her arm away, his glare enough to scare away the rest of the group, but the room was still obviously silent. Bokuto scanned the rest of the room with his tough stare, many people turning away and vainly attempting to restart their conversations.

Akaashi turned to you, an unsure expression on his face. There were words on the tip of his tongue, you were sure, since he looked as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say.

“I’m not going to say thanks.” You decided to start for him.

“I know.”

You wanted to turn away from him again, no words left for you to say or even scream at him through your anger. This was more than just some ex, you genuinely loved Akaashi and thought he was going to be your future. And from the way he acted, it seemed like the setter wanted that as well.

“There’s something I want to say.” Akaashi stated before you could flee.

“Maybe not here.” Bokuto tugged at your elbow, motioning to the nearest hallway with his chin.

You followed Akaashi wordlessly, Bokuto behind you to make sure you didn’t just run away. You sure that there were more than a few dozen pairs of eyes sticking to the backs of your strange trio.

Akaashi led you to a corner, no one to spy on your conversation unless they hung outside the building from the window. He moved to gently grasp your forearms, but you pushed him off before he could get a firm hold on you.

He frowned, but looked at you intently. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” You stated back plainly, “I can’t forgive you.”

Akaashi hesitated, a dejected look on his face. “I know.”

Every bone in your body was screaming at you to walk away, to stop looking at his despondent pout and not fall for his sad look. You remembered the first time you fell in love with his smile - how easy he would flash that beaming expression at you. How Akaashi would tell you how much he loved you and it filled your heart until it overflowed.

And now all of those memories were worth nothing.

Screw being a bigger man, your heart had a thousand things it wanted to say.

“I really loved you, you know.” You pushed at his shoulder, “And now I can’t look at you without feeling like I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I was so in love with you I thought this would be it.” You felt your heart crying, but urged the motion down. “Why kiss me and tell me you love me when you had someone else on your mind the entire time?!”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Akaashi looked just as anguished, trying to reach out to you with shy hands on your shoulders. “Please just listen to me.”

But you shoved him away this time, “What could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I love you.”

His blue eyes bore right into your own, determined and sure of his previous statement. Looking over his shoulder, Bokuto was standing to the side, his gaze stuck on you as well. How the hell was this normal?

“What?”

Akaashi paused, hands coming up to hold you but stopping short again when he realized that was the last thing you needed. “I’m in love with both of you.”

You huffed and took a step back, what could you possibly say to that? There was a sudden flurry of emotions just whirring around your mind - a rush of elation at being loved, immediately squashed down by the annoyed at Akaashi’s selfishness.

You turned to Bokuto, “You believe this?”

The wing-spiker frowned, but affirmed it in a loud voice. “Yes.”

“No.” You started back quickly, shaking your head. “I refuse to be part of this.”

“It’s true.” Akaashi pushed, moving toward you with an ernst expression on.

“I don’t care if it’s true or not.” You moved away again, but this time Akaashi did not let you evade him. Putting firm hands on your shoulders, he pulled you against his chest. “Stop.”

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I can’t.” Akaashi continued, “I love you and it hurts me so much that I hurt you in the process.”

You struggled against his hold until he let go. “How could I listen to you be so selfish?”

“I know.”

“Don’t involve me in this.” You motioned at the both of them in a wide circle.

“(F/N).” Akaashi stressed, eager to get you to see his side, but you wanted nothing to do with him or Bokuto. He broke your heart enough, there was no way you were willing to entertain him back in your life.

“What don’t you understand about leaving me alone?” You raised your voice, annoyed that Akaashi was asking anything of you after treating you so cruelly.

“Please let me explain.” Akaashi kept repeating.

There was nothing, absolutely nothing that Akaashi could say that would ever make you think about introducing him back into your life. He was terrible for lying to you for months, maybe even as long as a year, but you didn’t want to exactly ask the length of his infidelity. He was a terrible boyfriend and an even worse person - you were ready to raise hands at both boys if they didn’t let you go this instant.

Bokuto blocked your path this time, “(L/N), come on we just -- “

“What’s going on here?” A gentle hand fell on your shoulder, pushing Bokuto aside as a new person entered your conversation.

Konoha stood tall behind you, his sudden appearance quelling your rising anger. If not, you were sure that you were going to throw hands with the volleyball boys. Bokuto would probably fight you off, but slapping Akaashi would feel cathartic in a way.

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Bokuto tried to wave away the other wing spiker. “We’re just talking.”

“(F/N), please. Let me explain it all to you.” Akaashi stressed, moving a step in your direction, to which Konoha challenged when he tilted his head upward.

“Right, just talking.” Konoha murmured in disbelief before turning to you. “And how do you feel?”

“I’ve had enough of this conversation.”

Both Akaashi and Bokuto exclaimed your name in contrasting tones, but you hardened your expression before turning away from them. Konoha still had a hand on your shoulder as you walked back to the lunchroom.

Your friends were already at your table, some of them standing around pacing while others were angrily chewing into their food. A chorus of your name followed as the two of you neared the table, some of them getting up from their seats to give you a comforting hug.

“(F/N)!” Your best friend was quick to rush you, crushing you between her arms. “We heard that Akaashi and Bokuto basically ushered you away.”

“The whole lunchroom was basically watching that door.” Another stated, pointing to the one you just came from.

Your best friend put her hands on your shoulder, steading your attention back to her. “Please tell me you remembered that men ain’t shit.”

Konoha laughed as he put a mocking hand of offense over his heart.

“Yeah, yeah.” You assured her, “I’m not about to make the same mistake again.”

“Good.” She confirmed, before turning to Konoha. “Okay, only Konoha has rights.”

“Thanks.” He stated back half-heartedly, guiding you back to your lunch and taking the seat beside you.

“When people told us they took you away, we weren’t sure what to do. Go after you? Call you to give you an out? We didn’t even know how long you had been gone for!” She explained, “Thankfully Konoha here came to the rescue.”

You turned to the wing-spiker, smiling as you did so. “He really did, thank you.”

He reflected a similar expression back at you, holding your gaze before springing away to take out his own lunch out of his bag.

“I take it back, the volleyball team has no rights with the exception of Konoha.” One of your friends joked.

As for you, you could not help but think back to the fond expression Konoha just shot you. It was so quick, and yet so genuine, you felt it pierce your heart so suddenly just to rip away from you when he turned away. But not in a bad way, per se.

If anything, this was a nice feeling, for a lack of a better term, to have again. You were not totally healed, still angry at both Akaashi and Bokuto for being complete fuckheads. But a part of you was still alive, happy to see Konoha as your friend and just maybe… maybe something else.

Akaashi and Bokuto returned back to the lunchroom silently, having left their stuff at their now fully occupied table. Bokuto didn’t bother to even turn in your direction, but Akaashi shot you a devastatingly sad frown as he passed.

A part of you wanted to comfort it, to leap out at the man who loved you for the past year. But you were thankfully steadied back to reality when Konoha put a gentle hand on your own. Akaashi’s gaze fell to the contact, making him stop entirely in his tracks. It was only when Bokuto grabbed his hand did the setter continue walking, but the shock on his face was palpable.

No matter, Akaashi was the last thing you wanted on your mind right now.

You upturned your hand and squeezed Konoha’s smiling at the third-year before turning back to your lunch.

The situation was far from resolved, you still had another two years at this drama-infested school and Akaashi seemed keen on explaining something to you. You were far from completely healed and it seemed the student body would not let this drama go unnoticed.

But you were getting there.

Little by little, you were re-learning to smile and laugh more. Places on campus were no longer bitter memories, but quiet lessons for you to remember. You had your loving best-friends and suddenly, the kind Konoha, at your side.

You had no worries about the rest of the school year, you would get through this with a head held high.

--------xXxXxXxXxXx--------

A/N: TBH for myself i could see this going both ways; reader saying nah OR reader entering a poly relationship. idk - i’ll write it if someone wants to see that ending but otherwise here we are :):

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

Note

Hey so how does it feel to carry the entire Levihan fandom on your back? I absolutely love all your stories! I always look forward to when you update! I had an idea for a fic but I haven't seen anyone do it. Where past levi wakes ups ( when he only sees hange as a friend) in the future to find that he's happily married to hange or living domestically with her and just contemplates his feelings for her

Title: Unwritten

Summary:

“Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she creates really quality works is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the direction, to the design and just the overall production… And she knows how to do it. When I watch her movies, it feels like they're peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“What makes Hange Zoe's writing special are those in betweens. The unwritten parts... if you know what I mean?"

Levi is assigned to work with screenwriter Hange Zoe and he is left constantly wondering why the hell she's taking her work so seriously.

Link: AO3

Note: I conceptualized this long fic after looking through a some of the prompts in my inbox and playing with them.. TYSM to everyone who sent those. I won't be dropping all the prompts I used when making this now because it might end up spoiling the fic as a whole but I will be dropping the prompts with every chapter I updated.

This fic doesn't actually follow any prompt strictly, I twisted the prompts around them, tore them apart, put them together so they might seem unrecognizable for some.

Either way, I'm very grateful to readers who are sending me prompts. It keeps me writing and brainstorming even when life gets terribly busy.

So thank you for them :D. I'm trying to get back to posting my writing more regularly again and this fic has been sitting in my folder for a while, I was just a little nervous to post it. Thanks to itShailaAM for looking through it!

If neither of us remember anything… Then it’s like it never happened right?

The voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic. It had a unique way of twisting at his gut, spidering up his spine then leaving an almost painful pang in his chest.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, Levi found himself still able to take control.

So he reached out.

Then he was chasing after her again.

Chasing… He then wondered. How long had he been chasing? How long had he been awake?

With the first light of morning, whatever message, whatever meaning he could have made up for himself dissipated.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

For the first time in years or even decades, Levi was wasting his early morning window before work. He wasn’t doing much of anything but staring up at the white ceiling in some feeble attempt to make sense of it again. He came up empty save for two things: a faint throbbing in his head and a half hearted conclusion that maybe it really was just some fevered dream.

“Good morning!" Someone was right next to him. Her voice was higher, more mellow. A hairs breadth away from his ear though, it grated.

Levi narrowed his eyes and the blur cleared somewhat. “Petra?” He heard himself speak. He was in an unfamiliar in-between, completely in control of himself, yet strangely disconnected. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Petra put one hand on the back of her head and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about barging in like this…” She didn’t have to apologize. They were childhood friends and with all the family gatherings they had spent together growing up, they were more than comfortable just flitting in and out of each other’s apartments.

Levi didn’t respond. There were more important things to think about like the slow and almost painful process of sitting up. That morning, he was a little more careful than usual.

“Your mom told me to check on you.” Petra continued.

“Typical,” he muttered coldly. He turned towards the window, and took in the view of the blue sky, a few stories above ground. It should calm him if he stared at it long enough. “She always overreacts,” he added. At that point, the crankiness had started to subside and Levi realized he didn’t mind the doting too much. His mother had always been like that anyway. Growing up, a sprained ankle or an animal bite from a family pet had always been enough for Kuchel to insist on a visit to the doctor.

Petra let out a dry chuckle. “I don’t blame her though. Since the accident, she’s been asking about you every...”

Everyday. Levi completed it for her. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had asked about him every hour. “She can always ask me directly,” he said out loud before Petra could finish. He didn’t feel too bad about interrupting. Petra had been speaking particularly slowly since a while ago and if he let her speak like that for any longer, they might not get anything done.

As if she had read his mind or at least noticed the impatience, she immediately gathered herself. “You always downplay it,” she said, more clearly this time.

“She always exaggerates it.”

“That accident was pretty bad though.” Petra cocked her head to the side. “I’m sure you understand that, right?”

Levi averted his gaze for a brief second. He couldn’t deny that part. That accident had apparently been bad enough to merit a month long hospital stay, bad enough for Levi to not remember much of it aside from the phantom pains in his chest, And bad enough to take the brunt of the pain and the inconvenience of dealing with the symptomatic disorientation, the fatigue and the begrudging need for some support.

A few seconds of reflection later, Levi concluded maybe there was good reason for that overreaction. “But I can take care of myself.”

Ironically, his body chose that moment to teeter.

“Hey, you okay?” Petra put one warm hand on his shoulder. “You think you can make it to work today?”

The throbbing at the back of his head had dulled to a bearable ache but he could have sworn it had been worse in the hospital. “I don’t have enough leaves,” he said. He focused for a while longer on Petra’s eyes and saw reason.

Maybe I can take a longer break?

His body was probably silently begging for more leaves. On the contrary, another part of him had been yearning for normalcy for a while. Practicality had been the deciding factor. Although Levi had more than enough leaves, did he have more than he would have been comfortable giving up? Maybe not. He wouldn’t take it anyway. He had more than enough strength to push himself out of bed and pad lightly to the bathroom.

Unwillingly or willingly? He was too tired to tell.

“You were in the hospital just a week ago.” Petra was a voice of reason or a voice of temptation.

“I can’t take any more leaves,” Levi repeated again, as if saying it louder somehow made it more convincing. He made his way to his closet, keeping his strides purposeful, partially for himself, partially for her.

Even for a long time friend, Petra had always been shy and conservative. As soon as Levi motioned to pull his shirt up, she rushed out of the room in some characteristic gesture of modesty.

His bedroom door closed with a click and Levi started to slip his clothes off much faster. His head continued to throb. There was a strange ringing in his ears and the room was a little drafty, typical for early spring.

Levi didn’t have the mind space to prepare for that brush with icy wind. Fucking hell. Discomfort then the desperation that followed had him considering calling in sick again.

After using up three week’s worth though, vacation leaves were starting to feel more like a scam than an actual benefit of the job. He ran through the motions of his typical morning routine. Or at least, what had been typical a month ago. Since the accident, he hadn’t worn anything but loose shirts, pajamas and hospital gowns. Back in the hospital, he had been asleep a lot of that time.

He pulled his pants on, then sluggishly pulled his sweater over him, dolefully noting how snug fitting clothing seemed like strangers to his skin.

He didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

It looked like Petra did notice something was different. Over breakfast, she had pushed the plates closer to him. She did the honors of pouring the scrambled eggs onto his plate, then placing a loaf of bread right next to him. “Eat, we have a long day ahead.”

Levi mumbled something that could have been a ‘thanks’ or a ‘yes.’ He didn’t think too far about it either. There were more pressing things to deal with, like internally psyching himself up for his first day back at work and finding routine once again in the recovery process.

For a few minutes after, the two were silent in the small kitchen save for the sound of chewing and the sound of cutlery clacking on the plate.

“Hey Levi,” Petra hesitantly broke the silence. “You really don't remember what happened?” She had asked that question countless times before, back at the hospital, on his first day back at home and every single time she paid a visit.

He chalked it up to worry. In some semblance of a response, Levi downed the bread in his mouth in one painful gulp, then took a sip of tea. “I remember waking up in the hospital.”

“Before that.”

Levi dropped the half eaten bread on the plate and stared straight up at the ceiling for a second. “Leaving work,” he answered. It was too vague of an answer and Petra didn't seem satisfied.

Of course she wouldn’t be satisfied. He always walked the same route home and routine wouldn’t give too much of an answer to the question of how the hell more than a month ago, he had ended up with a severe concussion and a few contusions in the hospital emergency room, a few towns away from his own.

Past was past though. There was no use digging into it. At present, he had medical bills to pay and a career to salvage. No time for a personal investigation. He attempted to digress. “What did I miss?” Levi asked. “At work?” He noted Petra’s very disconcerting expression, a combination of pity and uncertainty. It was starting to get annoying.

Petra furrowed her brows, a little more hesitant to speak that time. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about...”

In protest, Levi put the bread down and stared at Petra, his stone cold expression unwavering. He wouldn’t be eating unless Petra continued. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A few minutes of silence later and it seemed to work. Petra looked down at the bread then up at him. Whatever was plaguing her mind then had taken some control over her. “A lot has changed since the accident,” she started.

“With work?” Levi asked again. He dropped the bread on the plate, deliberately allowing the clatter, as if the loud jarring sound would be enough to drive away the disbelief. Three weeks or fifteen business days wasn’t supposed to be a long time taking into account the speed of office bureaucracy.

Petra nodded, a wry smile on her face. Her expression, her demeanor gave the uncertainty away before she spoke of it. “You’re probably going to have to talk to Mr. Zackley about it…”

Levi’s mind was racing. Despite the throbbing, Levi had managed to fill in the blanks for himself. Even before Petra expounded on it, Levi had started to accept already, going back to work was probably not going to be such an easy ride.

Being gone for weeks had done a number to his job.

Three weeks to be exact. It was just three weeks, fifteen business days. Despite Petra’s apparent discomfort, her incessant warnings not to ‘expect,’ Levi had expected some semblance of normalcy. When his hopes were dashed, Levi felt like he had been body slammed out of nowhere by an oncoming train.

“I’ve been working on their set for years…Since the pilot episode, ” Levi said slowly. Hell, since even before the pilot episode if you consider the preproduction stage. He didn’t want it to seem at all like it was an argument and he subdued his tone to something lighter, with the intention of reminding himself not to talk back at authority.

“And we’ve transferred you,” General Manager Darius Zackley said matter-of-factly. “Underground City has been garnering a lot of attention lately and we couldn’t afford to be undermanned at such a crucial point of production.”

“But was it necessary to transfer me?”

Mr. Zackley’s expression softened. He didn't have a natural expression that demanded authority but he made up for it with reason. “It’s a primetime show,” he explained. “One of our best, and given the uncertainty regarding your accident…” For some reason, he had hesitated at that word. “We couldn’t take a gamble. We had you immediately replaced after the first week.”

“And?” At face value, the new developments were starting to seem terribly, terribly disappointing. “I can still work there.” Levi was perfectly aware of where the conversation was going. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

Mr. Zackley was surprisingly patient. “It’s not an issue of you not fitting in. But we want to properly and more efficiently distribute our labor. The production of Underground City is currently…” He cleared his throat. “Oversaturated.”

Oversaturated with budget, resources. Underground City was a crime and mystery drama, one of their more high budget productions. Levi wasn’t too surprised at that piece of information, having worked closely with the producers and the writers since the pilot.

With a boss a few reporting levels above his own though, Levi couldn’t do much but listen quietly. Disappointment and uncertainty loomed over him and he was tiring more quickly.

“We’ve made some arrangements, set you up with a new role.” Mr. Zackley was taking his sweet time, his painfully sweet time.

At the butt end of Mr. Zackley’s whims, Levi was a mess. He racked his brain for all possible outcomes of the ‘arrangements’, a painful process, hampered by the weight of too many possibilities. They were a medium sized network that produced most of their own TV shows on top of news coverage and documentaries, still too many for Levi to have cared enough about to count.

At that moment, he was determined to make up for lost time. Naturally, his mind first flew to the more well known productions, those that had been receiving the best ratings in prime time TV since he had started working there.

Underground City. Military Police.

Working at the set of the crime drama ‘Underground City’ had been a good run for Levi, one he would have liked to continue but Mr. Zackley said so himself, they replaced him. ‘Military Police,’ one of their more popular historical war dramas, also received one of the bigger chunks of their budget. With Zackley’s very sullen expression, it looked like he wasn’t at all there to give Levi a promotion.

He didn’t really mind not working on the ‘Military Police’ set anyway. Everyone there seemed like a lazy prick and that long running drama had always seemed overrated to him. What else would be waiting for him though? “To where?” Levi pressed.

The old man hummed for a second, leaned forward on his seat. “I talked to Erwin about this and we have an opening in one of our daytime shows.”

“Erwin?” Levi repeated. The name was more than just familiar and he allowed himself a brief moment to recall. Erwin Smith. One of the more prominent in-house directors. Just digging deep into his mind, riling up whatever was causing the headache in the first place. He sat still and waited for it to subside again.

Then he wondered if it had been physical or just an emotional reaction to the mess he found himself in. He was barely recovering, he was plunged into a new position and he was confused, utterly confused.

“Consider it a temporary position until something else opens up,” Mr. Zackley added. “Given that you just got back from the hospital, it would be better if you started small.” He shot Levi a placating look. “Either way, this is a good opportunity for you, Ackerman…” It didn’t seem so genuine. “To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.”

Zackley spoke for an eternity longer after that but it had done nothing to make the transfer any better.

Levi had been working with that same hustle and bustle for years and he was confident, a three week break at the height of production wouldn’t have been enough to throw him--- hell, most people off completely.

But he was being treated like some invalid. Zackley’s warm words yet his uninviting demeanor sent some alarm bells ringing inside Levi.Mr. Zackley was overly consoling, overly placating and Levi’s mind was racing.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders, willing himself to relax and focus on the present. Whatever the catch was, he’d find out soon anyway.

To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.

What a magnificent fucking lie.

“Start small my ass.” With the stress just piling up and his body barely catching up, Levi was tempted to let it out as anything louder, accompanying it with the very dramatic motion of dropping the paper work on the floor and relishing the loud thud. He imagined scattering the pages on the table, spilling them onto the floor and maybe kicking them out onto some curb.

Then he brushed off that mental image completely.

That would only create an unnecessary mess, maybe even cause a scene in that small cafe. Although his life seemed like it was complete chaos, his fastidious side wouldn’t have allowed him to make it any more worse. Then and there, he deemed it the best option to just take a sip of his tea, allow it to warm him up slowly and create a comfortable distraction, somewhere convenient.

A minute or so later, Levi accepted, tea didn’t do too good of a job. After all, what could tea do, aside from supporting him through the long and painful two days of ‘adjustment’ and the journey to the very frustrating conclusion that the general manager of the studio, Mr. Zackley was too out of touch with the struggles of the average worker.

“Just for long enough to get back to the hustle and bustle of TV production? What a fucking liar,” Levi muttered again. He dropped the tea cup on the saucer with a clank.

“Well, technically you are starting small,” Petra said. “They don’t expect too much quality wise from a soap opera on a day time slot.” She flipped through the pages of scripts and the storyboards that formed an overwhelmingly thick pile of papers on the coffee table.

It wasn’t too thick. Levi stared for a while longer and he decided it was a manageable pile of documents. The soft copies on his laptop were also of a countable number.

The deadline to be completely functional in two days though wasn’t as reasonable.

In search of some semblance of a break, Levi shifted his gaze towards Petra.

Her familiar presence had made the job change bearable. A half hearted response with her attention mostly channelled towards the piles of scripts had still been enough to have Levi more at home in the middle of the coffee shop in the late afternoon. “You didn’t even need to transfer,” Levi said. The indignance and the bitterness of a while ago seemed to be mellowing into something almost sweet.

Petra turned a beet red and she put her hands up in defense. “No no… I wanted to. Besides, this type of set is always in need of more people.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in response. Soap opera sets? Or maybe just daytime soap operas in general. Or maybe just that particular soap opera set. He turned back to the pile of papers on the table then back to his laptop.

The pile of papers on the table was the script for that month alone. The folders in the USB were eight seasons worth of soap opera scripts and episodes. Levi was once again reminded why such a project could have been so undersaturated.

Scratch that, he had never forgotten and he didn’t think he would ever forget anyway.

The script for just that month was much larger than the piles Levi worked with at his previous production. By the second day, he was starting to conclude, working with daytime soap operas was turning out to be a grind, a seemingly thankless grind.

Soap operas ran with the expectation of producing five episodes a week with a shoestring budget. The pressing deadlines and just the amount of content that had to be produced meant vacations and holidays were few and far in between for the average employee. And the unreasonable demands usually meant that quality would naturally suffer.

Since he started assimilating into his job, he also started to wonder. What audience were they even producing soaps for in that day and age?

“Do you think you’ll even enjoy this?” Levi challenged.

“It’s too early to tell,” Petra said.

Levi didn’t want to admit it then, but he was convinced that she would even find a way to enjoy it. The question should have been for him. He was the one who could barely even get past the first page of the script.

Petra flashed him a knowing smile, flipping the pages a little faster. She wasn’t reading them and all attention was on Levi.

Her face could have been asking questions. Or Levi could have been projecting. He repeated the question to himself. What now? More specifically, what was he supposed to do?

Then he answered it. Get used to it? Or maybe just accept it as a job. The grind would eventually get less painful he was sure. But would he ever see the beauty in it?

Levi had never taken the time to watch that particular soap opera but he had seen too many in passing to know what he would be working with.

The stories didn’t make fucking sense. The sets were cheaply made. The lights, the cameras and the resources for special effects were far from what he was given when he was still working with the twenty-one-episodes-a-season, one-season-a-year ‘Underground City.”

According to Erwin, they just didn’t have the budget. Besides, the average viewer didn’t expect much else anyway from a soap opera.

Either way, he was still hired as the cinematographer. This is still your job. Levi took a deep breath then exhaled with a soft huff. First things first, he had to familiarize himself with ten to fifty episodes worth of scripts. That night, he would be watching the blocking, the lighting, the editing, the overall production.

That was the job of the fucking cinematographer anyway. Erwin had warned him though, they were severely undermanned in all facets of production, pre production, production proper and post production. And for shows that aired multiple times a week, that meant, the grind wouldn't end.

So he wouldn’t just be the cinematographer.

At the impending workload that followed his orientation phase, Levi closed his eyes tight. For a second there, his mind flew to other opportunities and just the process of editing his CV and applying elsewhere.

Maybe in a year he would reapply, or maybe even in months.

He wondered if Petra was thinking the same thing. If she were, she didn’t make it obvious. Petra enjoyed the production process just as much as he did and she had been the reason he had found a job there in the first place.

“Welcome back to the working world.” Petra chuckled.

Levi blinked back the surprise in his eyes as he was once again pulled back to reality. Admittedly, he was overwhelmed. The weak throbbing returned and after spending too many hours insisting to Petra that he was ready to go back to work, he didn’t think it right to take a break.

He sipped his tea and deemed that a quick break.

“God I miss our tea times,” Petra said, looking pointedly at Levi's tea caup. She flipped the script over and pulled her teacup towards her.

Levi noted the wistful expression on Petra’s face. “I was only out for a month,”

Petra shook her head. “But for a week or so, we thought you wouldn’t make it.” There was a subtle crack, not too noticeable if Levi hadn’t tensed up and watched her closely.

It was bringing up too many unwelcome emotions at once, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a haze of memories aggravated the throbbing in his head.

Levi turned back to the pile of papers. With the amount of work to do, he would never have the time to ponder what happened anyway. In an attempt at digression, he pulled the script towards him, and started to flip the pages, poring over words yet only taking in half of it.

A very boring half.

Eventually, he gave up. “Let’s go back home. We’re not getting anything done here.” He gathered the pages, and meticulously returned them to each envelope.

He was supposed to be reviewing the scripts to get some idea on how the TV show worked. They had chosen to work in the cafe to escape from the bustle of the sets and attempt some productivity. Yet, they had been in the cafe for a few hours already and he still didn’t remember what the story had been about in the first place.

Soap operas didn’t have logical plots anyway. Levi thought to himself. Maybe just accepting could make his work feel more unbearable. He watched as Petra gathered the pages on her end, stuffed them into her bag.

“Sorry, I thought you would have wanted tea. You always liked this place…” Petra was explaining herself. The not-so-eloquent way at which she did it was a distraction. In fact, everything at that point was either a distraction or even irritating. Levi took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the throbbing take control for a second.

One step at a time. Levi slung his bag over his shoulder. “The tea was good,” he said, more for her than himself. That was a lie. In fact, the tea tasted underwhelming. Tea usually didn’t disappoint though and Levi was starting to suspect the fault was in him. “Just give me some time to get used to life again,” he added, his tone more apologetic that time.

A few seconds or even minutes of reflection later and Levi had to admit, he felt like he really had changed during that break.

Cinematography is visual storytelling. Or so, that was what he had been taught when he started working with TV shows years ago.

When there was no story he could follow, there was no essence or heart to portray. So, Levi naturally approached it like a cold hard science. The hard copies on folders lay abandoned on the coffee table. His laptop remained unopened.

Levi's attention was trained on the big screen. He had silently been sprawled on the sofa since they arrived back to his apartment hours ago. Bundled up in a sweatshirt, legs propped up on the coffee table, Levi was in that convenient trance between relaxing and analyzing.

He had no idea what the couple on the TV had been arguing about. He had no idea who had fathered the large overly tacky baby bump sticking out of the woman.

The latest episode was playing on repeat and Levi remembered two things happening in the past ten minutes. A pregnant woman entering the crappy set of their mansion, hand on her oversized belly and man looked back at her then approached her, a look of abject horror on his face. He was shouting something, obscenities maybe?

By that point, Levi’s mind started to wander with too many other passing thoughts.

The horror at finding out the protagonist was pregnant was overly exaggerated. Were baby bumps really supposed to be that big? And why did it take them that many months to figure it out? How many pregnancies did the protagonist go through? How many love interests did she have?

Then the cinematographer and the photographer in him took over.

There were more important things to look into. The camera never moved. Levi was familiar with multi camera setups and he didn’t need to think too hard about it. Most of the scenes were filmed in the house, in the office, all conveniently made sets, the conveniently written scripts were written around the shitty budget.

And the high frame rate, in tandem with the inorganic lighting, the lack of special effects and just the lack of some careful camera movement, made the overall story and the overall view, underwhelming, not at all cinematic.

The soap opera effect.

Some wouldn’t see it. Others would probably notice it but not glaringly enough to complain. Levi had worked in film for years and when he would search for the characteristic motion blur, he would immediately find it. The culmination of a simple camera set up, a few sets, a cheap camera, and with a studio and network always in some hurry to cut the budget, the soap opera effect was very apparent.

And they would be expecting the same cooperation from him in putting together a cheaply made production. On the bright side, that meant that despite having to deal with some shitty soap opera plot that didn’t make any sense, he wouldn’t have to do too much thinking with lighting, blocking and editing. Planning sets and scenes would be a light stroll in the park at best, soul suckingly monotonous at worst.

Levi reached for the remote and started to rewind, his interest suddenly piqued.

“So what do you think happened to the baby?” Petra asked. She dropped a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

Levi wasn’t in any mood to eat. More importantly, he in the mood to speculate the cheap excuse for a plot. “Am I supposed to care?” He pulled his legs close to him and leaned further on the armrest of the sofa, giving Petra more than enough space to get herself comfortable.

“Well, you’re working on the set right? Better to at least know the major plot points of what you’re working with.”

“Spoil me,” Levi said.

Petra reached for the popcorn and grabbed a handful. She turned to him, a wry smile on her face. “You really don’t even wanna try to enjoy it?”

“This is a job. ”

Petra dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Well… Hanako gets kidnapped…”

“Hanako?”

“The baby…” Petra answered, looking pointedly at him. “They literally spent an episode discussing the baby’s name.” A laugh was very much evident in her voice.

And there are a hundred episodes to sift through. “I don’t have to know the baby’s name to do my job.”

“The baby will be the main character in the next season. If you have been reading the script--- Or even just following the story...” Petra put her hands out and pointed at the TV, starting to look more exasperated by the minute.

“Okay,” Levi responded firmly, not in any mood to stomach accusations. “Then I’ll learn her name when I start working. Just tell me what I need to know to do my job. ”

Petra sighed. “When we get back on air, there will be a time skip. Then the season post time skip picks up after Hanako’s first day of college. So before that she grew up with her adopted parents who found her abandoned in a box. They went through some tough times financially and in the latest pages of the script she gets a job in a coffee shop.” She turned towards the thick envelope on the table then glanced accusingly at him. “I could have sworn you were reading through that back in the cafe.”

Levi didn’t notice it. He had only half heartedly read the script. Still, he feigned a look of interest.

“Then a lot of the writers quit,” Petra continued. “So a lot of what happened hasn't been written yet.”

Levi flashed Petra a knowing look.

Petra sighed. "Apparently, people were overworked, the job didn't pay much so a lot of the crew, cinematographer, production designers, they all left which was most likely why they put you there.”

Levi only had to look back at his first day and his second day to understand the turnover rate. He had spent a little less than an hour familiarizing himself with systems that seemed to be put into place for show. Soon after that, he was bombarded with unreasonable deadlines, timelines, responsibilities outside his actual job title and a little less than two days to sift through eight seasons worth of scripts.

“And why they easily transferred me. We're really behind now. Post production for the last few episodes should be completed this week, aired by next week.

"Then we have a hiatus at least," Levi said, repeating it with that same cold professional tone Erwin had used with him on their first day. Except he knew that was a scam too. They would be using that two week hiatus to start filing.

That reminder at least pulled Levi back into reality. He couldn’t flit mindlessly from side to side and clock it up as ‘learning the ropes’ forever. Eventually, they were going to ask him to actually know the ropes. “Erwin said something about me working with production proper and post production,” Levi mindlessly rewinded some of the scenes again. “But they can’t expect me to write the script right?”

Petra shook her head. “No, I don’t think you will,” she said. “I talked to a few of the crew. They said they were hiring a writer. A whole writing crew actually--- And you know, among them, there are rumors about a big name screenwriter.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Joining the set of a daytime soap opera.”

She put her hands up in defense. “It’s just a rumor.”

“A stupid rumor. What kind of screenwriter in their right mind would want to work here?”

Petra paused for a second, deep in thought. “Fine, it might just be a rumor. Still, ask yourself, why would there be rumors circulating in the first place?"

Levi sighed. “Which screenwriter then?” he asked, mostly in an attempt to humor her. And himself. The fact that a big name screenwriter would work in soap operas, might actually make ‘soap operas’ work.

“Hange Zoe,” Petra said, a wry knowing look on her face. As if it was a name Levi was supposed to know.

“Hange Zoe?” And if he followed the same ups and downs of Petra’s tone, he could pretend it was familiar to his lips. “Hange Zoe,” he said again.

Petra nodded. “The writer of the Titan series? The final movie of `Advancing Titans’ is coming out in the fall.”

Advancing Titans. The name had seemingly come out of nowhere, especially when Levi had already run through a few possible names in his head. Hange Zoe hadn’t been one of them. Although she was a big name in the screenwriting industry for sure, the idea of Hange Zoe working with soap operas seemed almost preposterous.

“Hange Zoe…” Levi said it one more time, in surprise or in some attempt to practice saying it. “You’re seriously talking about that writer?” Levi looked to Petra for confirmation. Hange had only ever written one movie series from a completely different genre, which begged a question.“She has some experience in soap operas?”

Petra unlocked her phone, opened the browser and started typing and scrolling. “No… Just the movies…” she muttered a second later.

“Then why do you think she would suddenly want to work in a cheap ass day time soap opera?”

Petra looked back at him, a dumbfounded look in her face. “But the timing just fits too well. The final movie is about to be released. Apparently, she didn’t renew her contract with her studio. There are even rumors of her leaving the movie industry… And there were speculations and everything.”

“Retirement?” Levi suggested.

“Why retire in your thirties?” Petra said.

“Well, when you’re earning millions per script…” Levi trailed off. Thinking up an argument was too much of a tall order. He continued flipped through channels in silence and he had managed to pick out the movie ‘Advancing Titans’ by just a few seconds worth of a scene.

Speak of the devil.

But it wasn’t strange at all to come across the movies while flipping through channels. After all, Advancing Titans had become a household name over the past few years.

A person in a green cloak was flying, killing some man eating a zombie. It was a familiar scene, Even Levi, who almost prided himself in never having watched the movies, was familiar enough with the iconic movements, the colors and the insignia on the back.

The wings of freedom. How the hell that was connected to the story, Levi never watched enough to find out. Nor was he interested. Science fiction and fantasy were just never his cup of tea.

If Levi had to guess, soap operas and crime dramas shouldn’t have been big wig screenwriter Hange Zoe’s cup of tea either, especially after dedicating years of her life into a production as complex as a science fiction, dark fantasy cinematic universe..

“Do you really think Hange Zoe can actually work with low budget soap operas?” Levi asked.

Petra shrugged and Levi wondered why he had even asked her in the first place. Of course, she wouldn’t know. Still, she spoke up. “Even if the rumors were wrong and it wasn’t Hange Zoe. The important thing is they get someone to pump out scripts right? And your job anyway is to make sure everything gets filmed.”

“I guess.” Levi kept his eyes trained on the screen. The scene shifted from a forest, to the cobblestoned streets in town. A parade of miserable soldiers entered the town within the walls. The camera focused on a father, who navigated through crowds of people, zooming in one of the shorter soldiers.

Captain, I wanted to talk to you about my daughter… She wrote me a letter… She’s too young to get married.

Something about the expression of the soldier pulled Levi in. For a moment, he was frozen on his seat, completely hypnotized.

Petra’s voice tore into his trance. “That’s one of the scenes I can never forget.”

In some desperate bout of retaliation, Levi switched the channel of the TV. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Why? You okay?” Petra asked.

“I’m fine. I’d rather watch something more productive.” Levi flipped more rapidly through channels. He was tempted to just turn off the TV and call it a night.

“There’s a lot to learn from watching that,” Petra started.

"Like what?" Levi asked, his grip on the remote was still firm.

Petra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. “It's hard to explain... but remember that scene just a while ago. The father approached the captain about his daughter… She died while fighting the titans and they had to empty the cart so they lost all the bodies..."

Levi kept his eyes glued to the screen, suddenly hyper aware that there might have been a judgemental or impatient look on his face. “Go on,” Levi said, as if that could do anything to placate the discomfort already apparent in her voice.

“I guess the point I wanted to make is…” Petra still seemed far from calm. “Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she writes really quality works apparently is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the blocking, to the screenwriting and just the overall production… Which makes the storyline and the movie so gripping. When I watch it, it feels like the movie is peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“A lot of the novelty of Hange Zoe’s writing… The parts that make it special are those in betweens. The parts she left unwritten... if you know what I mean?"

“That’s cool,” Levi responded, only barely. He switched to their local channel, to the late night reruns of the soap opera. .

“They’re good movies. I don’t think they were overrated," Petra said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"I never said they weren’t good movies."

"You don't seem to want to hear about it at all."

"I'm just not interested. Besides, I'm too busy with work." That was the right moment to feign business. Levi held his phone in front of him, opened up the browser and wrote out a few familiar keywords. The movies of the titan series were all ranging from four to five star ratings. Whether it had been commended for cinematography or writing, he had been too lazy to check the more detailed reviews.

The reviews were most likely raving, sloppily made and potentially biased and Levi didn’t want to hear another synonym for ‘peers into your soul.’

His eyes were drooping, he was exhausted. Petra seemed to be ready to leave as well. But he had some space, he needed some break. And what better way to spend it than to do a little stalking? "Petra, could you send a file of the first movie? I think I might wanna watch it."

"You can stream the older ones on demand," Petra said.

Levi only had to open the menu on his TV to see the option for streaming. Right. Watching movies was starting to feel like a chore though and he was in no mood watching that night.

He didn’t say much else after that and the night ended with greetings exchanged. Petra only lived a few floors below him and it didn’t feel any different from being alone.

Before he knew it, he was half asleep already. He gave up, turned off the TV and allowed himself to doze off. When he came to his senses again, the sun was streaming through the window, and with work starting in an hour or so, he had little to no time to even start the movie.

The set was small. The budget was miniscule. The turnover rate was high.

And for projects that wanted to disguise themselves as official and corporate, it was utter chaos. One week into his job, Levi had to admit, he was reaching too widely, and he was spread out too thin.

There was a semblance of structure within his team. Petra and Eld worked with cinematography, filming and camera management and all he had to do was make sure the blocking looked good, limit the amount of retakes needed. Gunther and Oluo worked in post production and video editing.

But structure was an illusion.

The actors hadn’t arrived yet. Other new roles hadn't been finalized. The script was still unfinished. Yet, they were under the mercy of the vision of higher ups

"We're heavily delayed,’ or so that was what Erwin had explained. ‘Feedback of the higher ups.”

There were deadlines, unreasonable deadlines for the employees, yet a reasonable wait for the average audience. They had less than a month to finish filming and post production for the first few episodes of the new season, less than a week to produce everything for the old season.

When he was in a pseudo-management role, as a cinematographer, it was automatic. When filming, he should be going down to the set. But they weren't filming yet. In fact, there were people in the set not doing anything.

In the chaos, everything didn't seem to add up. So Levi forced one memorandum, one attempt at structure. He would finish the final editing by that night and start the next day with a blank slate. Even if he needed to, he would stay until midnight to make it work.

That new writing team should be coming soon. Levi repeated to himself. Erwin had said so himself, Petra had also mentioned it excitedly over lunch.

All Levi had to do was get the episodes ready for review by the higher ups, then ready for airing then he could start that new season with a healthier approach, maybe find some way to add more structure to his already hectic job.

“Petra, don’t wait for me. I’m working overtime today.”

Petra jumped on her seat.

Levi only realized then, he had come up from right behind her. And Petra had been busy reading through something in her laptop, a quick glance confirmed, it was the unfinished script.

Levi continued. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Petra looked back at him, a worried look in her face. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Deadlines,” Levi answered.

“You need any help? You know Oluo and Gunther, they can stay too. Or even me.”

“I can finish it myself,” Levi said. He was completely aware either way that it was his job to review everything before anyone else reviewed and before it went on air.

There was an indignant look on Petra's face. But Petra never really imposed. She nagged, doted, argued but she never imposed.

And he managed to pacify her by requesting an espresso and a cup of tea from the tea shop right in front of the studio. Beverages were frowned upon in the video editing room. Levi though was particularly meticulous, he was tired and stressed and he allowed himself some leeway.

Just today. And when they start filming the new season, during the hiatus, Levi would reopen his work with a more organized approach, more suited for his personality. He constantly reassured himself of that as he continued to edit the videos, crosschecking with storyboards and scripts.

Most of the work had been done. Most of the work had been easy to scan through. Still it was hours of sifting through retakes, reviewing and setting them up for reviews and cuts. In the silence, completely alone, He gladly gave the task the required focus, more than enough not to have noticed the sound of the door click behind him.

“This is the coffee you asked for right?” The voice wasn’t Petra’s but still it didn’t seem at all hostile. In fact, the voice seemed friendly.

Friendly enough for Levi to feel obliged to respond.”Thanks.” A new hire maybe? In the one week he had been working there, three people had already quit.

It wasn’t worth a second thought. The important thing was he got his coffee and tea. So he didn’t bother looking up, only looking with his peripherals to see the paper white of the cup just a few inches away. He reached one hand towards the cup and surprisingly, his hand didn’t grasp for paper. It went for something a little softer, something a little cooler but still warm to the touch.

And it moved. A bug? A pest? That had been Levi’s first speculation, being the paranoid clean freak he was. Before his guesses could get anymore creative he looked at the cup and saw the cup was stable on his desk. He had a grip, not on the cup itself but on the other hand which held the cup. The movements were from a hand underneath his..

A wild hand. It slipped out of his grip, and before Levi could pull away, it gripped him in return, squeezing harder on his pointer finger and his middle finger.

For just a second. A painfully awkward second.

A second of realization was all Levi needed to pull away. “May I help you?” he asked. It took a lot more willpower not to curse at that strange invasion of privacy. A second later, reason took over and Levi realized that he was the one who had gripped her first.

He had planned to grip the coffee cup, he justified himself.

“They said… You needed some coffee.” The voice was nonchalant. Yet somehow, nonchalance had managed to make his blood boil. “So I came here to drop it and say hi,” she added, as if that was the most natural response.

‘Say hi’ didn’t usually involve two hands gripping one another, then interlocking. Her hands were still gripping the tip of his fingers and for a second they were frozen.. “Are you always this touchy then?” Levi pressed. Especially with a total stranger. Levi looked up, turned his head towards the voice and confirmed it, she was definitely a familiar face but they were barely even acquaintances.

Brown hair tied up in a ponytail, glasses propped comfortably on her nose and just underneath them, warm brown eyes that had no problem just staring, studying… And in their own way, leaving Levi very very jarred by the mundane gesture called ‘eye contact.’

“I was hoping to talk for a bit,” she said. “If you’re not too busy, we can---”

“I’m busy right now,” Levi said. He pulled the coffee closer to him, suddenly careful when awareness dawned on him abruptly. Suddenly, he was completely aware that the coffee cup was only a few inches away from the computer. “Can this wait?”

Those brown eyes were suddenly wider, a hint of surprise. Then they narrowed at him and Levi felt some pity blanket his already sluggish and aimless movements. Before he knew it, he was very very unproductive.

He had to do something. “My name is Levi by the way.” He was deliberately gentler that time and usually lowering his voice and slowing down did some magic to make him seem kinder than he usually seemed to new people. Or so, that had been what Petra had advised multiple times before.

Levi looked up, forced a subtle smile, a combination between a tightlipped line and crinkles at the edge of his mouth. The most he could manage for a courteous introduction.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. He noticed her eyes first, the way they widened. Her jaw dropped. She closed it again, a subtle twitch in her lip.

Did I say something wrong? Levi thought to himself. He looked back at the computer screen. “Levi… Levi Ackerman,” he added. Would that help ease the tension of the room?

Even when Levi started to make a game for himself, playing video edits again and again, he realized he was more focused on pretending to concentrate than in actually polishing the transitions between scenes.

Hange eventually spoke up. “Hello Levi. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was softer in that last sentence.

“Nice to meet you too.” That had been surprisingly difficult to say. He sensed the discomfort in her voice, and maybe he had unknowingly mirrored it.

“My name is Hange Zoe. I’m going to be working as a screenwriter here…”

Oh. Oh. So that’s Hange Zoe. For someone who spearheaded blockbuster hits, who had people talking like crazy over rumors, it turned out she was a very underwhelming presence.

“I’m the cinematographer here,” Levi said. Technically, that was his job title but at that point, he was doing everything. “So I guess we’re going to be working together a lot.”

“We will,” Hange responded. Her presence was underwhelming. So underwhelming that Levi felt no need to even be excited that they had a prodigy screenwriter in their midst. Her voice was soft when she spoke to him. Her eyes were some mix of disappointment, nervousness, uncertainty.

Levi suspected it was her demeanor, her approach towards him that had caused such tension to settle in such a tiny room. “Thank you for coffee,” Levi said. Any nice gesture seemed like a worthwhile attempt to ease it.

A wide smile played at Hange’s lips, still far from what Levi would have considered confident though. “Happy to help.”

That’s the award winning screenwriter? “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I’m going to be working on a few scripts tonight, have Erwin look at them in a day or so,” she said. Her voice had shifted to something more professional, and her meekness was starting to feel more like a misinterpretation on Levi's end..

“Looking forward to them,” Levi said.

The door slammed behind him, a little louder than the click that followed. The room was dim, it was almost distracting. When Levi turned towards the lights, he considered turning it on, to save himself the discomfort of sore eyes.

He turned his chair, put enough wait into one leg only to notice the sluggishness, the numbness underneath. His legs were jelly. Her hands were trembling and his breaths weren’t coming out in predictable bouts. He turned back to the computer and prepared to review what he had already edited.

The video was playing and Levi was convincing himself that he was productive.

Halfway through the episode, or even a quarter through the episode (Levi wasn’t counting), his mind had wandered. When his surroundings just became a little too overwhelming, Levi let loose just a little bit. He let the heaviness in his chest and the stiffness of his limbs speak for him then.

That voice of a while ago, Hange Zoe’s voice. That voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 3 years

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Enzo anon here - the more this era is progressing, my theory about gaymila being used as damage control and for profit seems to be happenening.

I have some thoughts that I know many other CS share, i think it would be good to summarise what i’ve seen on different blogs into one post as well as adding my own theory. So this will be a long one but i hope you guys find it insightful and Stuck thank you again for giving me a space on your blog!

Let’s look back on CC2 and the aftermath of its release. A quick disclaimer : I’ll only be addressing her situation in terms of the social/PR aspect as we have no idea what other factors might be at play such as contracts and money etc.

It’s fair to say that C was and is not in a good place reputation wise. Señorita was of course a smash hit but was mostly used to promote S. Her fans complained about C almost becoming a double act with S. These fans understandably signed up for C, not S and so subsequently most of them unfollowed her on SM and stopped paying attention to her to escape the constant Showmila. For the GP, Showmila became a mockery and so it’s asking a lot from her fans to stay when she was constantly embarrassing herself to the point that it made it uncomfortable for them. Of course with this comes the racist controversies also involving Normani which brought back the entire 5H feud. This put C even further than she already was against LAND and so the narrative that she was hated by the other girls for being obnoxious and attention seeking was further reinforced by her being racist towards N. All of this made/makes Camila extremely easy to hate, to the public she seems like a privileged straight girl who has never once had any sort of difficulty or obstacle in her life.

On the CS side of the fandom, many having left after having enough of the Showmila circus, leaves very few CS to fight back against the narrative. Even more leave after Lauren’s bombshell of a podcast. For example, this graph from google trends show how searches for “camren” or “camila cabello camren” are/were decreasing.

We know that CS are a very large part of C’s fanbase so who are we left with ? Many solo C stans all have converted into SS accounts and again even then S takes the main focus, not C. So… its not looking good, having people being fans of yours only for your relationship is a risky move business wise. We’ve all wanted Showmila to end for a long while and we definitely can all agree that the end is long overdue, infact a lot of us believe that had there not been the pandemic they would’ve broken up a while ago. So where does C stand now? Well, in my opinion, after this entire circus (which unfortunately is still ongoing) C is in a very vulnerable position. How does she promote her upcoming album with so much of her fanbase gone? Perhaps a big break up album? That option doesn’t sound great when she most likely will get the short end of the stick narrative wise and be further disliked by the little fans she does has left. If Camila doesn’t have Shawn anymore, the SS will most likely all disappear leaving her with a very limited amount of people who have the guts to actually publicly support her. Another option she could have is to keep riding on this relationship until people get bored, only that’s already happening and Showmila does not have the punch it once did to get a second Señorita. What about a fake pregnancy or a marriage? God we hope not and I really believe that Camila would do anything in her power to avoid that as we’ve seen how extremely unhappy she seems just being his girlfriend. For all we know Shawn might be very against this idea too and even if they did go along with it would it really be enough to promote CC3 ? After a few weeks the excitement would have died down again and leave them both back to square one. Not to mention that C getting married/pregnant would make even some of her most dedicated fans leave for good and would still not be enough to get her out of the racist accusations.

This is where my theory comes into play, however i think her team will only follow through with this if they are smart and if they aren’t actually sabotaging her. This past year I watched as Taylor Swift released her two albums and broke numerous records and achieved incredible success. I do not think this success would’ve been achieved had it not been for the insane rise in speculation over her sexuality due to her new songs. T is of course a household name, she’s earned her place amongst the top artists of this generation but people were starting to get bored hearing dramatic songs about her oh so difficult love life being a straight white girl. This is why when folklore and evermore came out there was so much buzz and excitement about T possibly being LGBTQ to the point that it found it’s way to the GP. People were wondering what these gay songs with gay lyrics were and so they went to listen for themselves. Eventually tons and tons of extra streams and talk generated from people who would’ve otherwise never paid attention. Myself included. You can see below on google trends the massive increase in online searches for “gaylor swift”. The gaylor side of tumblr also expanded as there had never been so many songs with so much queer interpretations to analyse and discuss and more and more of the GP were getting curious enough to read the blogs. Regardless if you think Taylor is gay or not, the general public discussing it was an essential part in improving her image for Gen Z and promoting her albums thus creating $$$ for her team and label.

Keeping this in mind, I believe that C might (not having many options left to salvage her career/reputation) take a page out of TS’s book and have an era that will attract more LGBT fans than ever before. We’ve seen how camren is slowly coming back. Even just by C liking a picture of L’s it was enough to bring back out a whole lot of fans who had abandoned her. Her team see this, they know this, they are aware. If talks of Camila being gay will generate more $$$ they will use that to their advantage and push out the new gay narrative as much as they can. I don’t think she will explicitly come out any time soon, and i don’t think that they will “confirm camren” but this era will definitely set her up for it in the future like the way it has for TS and it will give her a stable fanbase for a long while, which at the moment she is in dire need of.

Although C would’ve probably liked her relationship with L to remain private I think she may have no other choice but to use it more than she ever has before to save herself. Sadly no amount of self improvement and apologies will ever erase her racist past, it will follow her forever and people will never stop talking about it, unless there’s something more interesting to discuss. That’s the way the internet works, a photo of camren together in 2021/2022 would generate more buzz than anything Showmila related. Not only would all of the CS who left come back but all the anti-CS would be talking about it too and an entire wave of new fans would be interested enough to join. There would be no room to talk about Camila Cabello being racist when Camila Cabello is actually gay/dating Lauren Jauregui is the new talk.

Of course this entire process will not be instant but we can see that they are building up to something like that. Perhaps Camren being public friends again which would still generate a ton of talk as it did back in the 5H days. She will not instantly break up with S and then be seen making out with L the next day but I do think that although it wasn’t her or her teams plan to use her relationship/sexuality, i think she has no other choice if she ever wants to gain favour with the public again. Let’s not forget that the rest of 5H seem to be on their way to having new music out very very soon and just as camren worked to promote 5H in the old days it will work again in 2021/2022. This would encourage her team even more to follow this route as it would suit everyone, even if they no longer are a group they will always be connected.

We shall wait and see what happens, of course circumstantial situations may arise to cause them to switch up their plans but for now all this 5H, camren and gaymila interactions are no coincidence. That’s for sure.

This concludes my very long post! thank you to anyone who took the time to read this, thank you again to Stuck and if anyone has anything else to add that i might have missed or any questions don’t hesitate! I love hearing what everyone else has to say. To clarify these are all my personal thoughts and speculations and I am not claiming to know anything for certain.

____

Wow, I didn't expect to be a window into another great submission from my dear buddies, but Enzo, I loved your post. And I really totally agree with you in what you mentioned.

The truth is that it is true, Camila has been selling her LGBT + agenda of hers since 2020 and even long before because I always had the theory that she would be let out after having a big heterosexual PR circus. This PR circus with the diva is that circus and what we have been seeing, because it checks all our theories.

As for Gaymila, she has always been there. More crushed with the fucking circus shit maybe, but she's always been there and one thing I want to emphasize is that most of Camila's fandom other than SS or homophobic, would accept Camila out of the closet, ALWAYS AND WHEN NOT WITH LAUREN.

That is why I think Camila would have more followers if the aforementioned are left aside, because they would have no problem supporting her and we would be more, considering that those clowns are partly paid fans and bots.

I don't think she will even give him permission to leave her, but if she does it is because that would also be part of her contract. Of her agreeing to do all this theater of the absurd with the circus, as long as they let her out at the end.

The fucking shit hole that is the industry knows that it has to please its LGBT + audience because we are the ones who support artists the most. The main audience for them may always be heterosexuals, but when they get bored and look for something else, the ace up their sleeve will always be the community and with the examples that you have given my dear Enzo, that is proof of it.

The thing with Camila is that she's never been in the closet. They forced her into a closet and that's different. Camila always felt good being herself and they have tried to cover that with different types of circuses since she was in the band because it is what suits business.

What we are seeing now with Camila is that, a double agenda, that of the circus managed by the idiots behind it and Camila's own agenda that lets us see Gaymila from time to time.

And when I talk about an agenda, I do not do it in a negative way but as something that she must have already planned.

My theme now is that it will come in that aspect. I don't think I'm waiting for a circus engagement or a lavender marriage, but I do hope that Camila can set Gaymila freer every time. Unfortunately, everything else is still very screwed up and this circus just represses it more and more.

The problem is that as long as she does not regain some control over her career and her image, no matter how small, nothing will change.

#submission #enzo anon #love you buddy

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2996-sana · 4 years

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Not So Unrequited Love - Jennie

At 11 on a Friday, Jennie finds herself at Coffee Beanz where her, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rosé usually meet for their weekly brunch. The quaint little coffee shop that huddled despondent among huge city buildings has cemented itself as their go-to place ever since Jisoo came across it during their freshman year of college. The interior was warm and cheery and always played really good jazz during Fridays which Jennie absolutely loved.

Now professionals with outstanding positions in their own industries, the four girls still haven’t forgotten about the one place that always gave them a bittersweet recollection of their time as broke and stressed college students. Not that they need the weekly trips to the coffee shop to see each other. They all lived in the same apartment complex separated by just a few doors from each other after all. It was just a nice little tradition that reminded them to remain grounded no matter how far they come in their own careers.

This week, the topic at hand over their usual coffee and brunch orders was Jennie’s struggle to find a date.

“Why is this happening to me?” Jennie complains, throwing her hands in the air. “Am I lacking something?”

The three girls rolled their eyes at their best friend. Jennie really did have a flare for the dramatics.

“Jen, you literally have people lining up to date you.” Jisoo reassured while the other two hummed in agreement.

“That’s right,” Rosé says, taking a pause to sip her coffee. “I mean Y/N is literally the living embodiment of that statement.”

Lisa snorts at Rosé’s words. You were Rosé’s childhood best friend and business partner who first crossed paths with Jennie about three years ago during their company launching and was notorious in their friend group for your not so subtle crush on Jennie.

This was not lost on Jennie however. Not at all. Moves were made. These so-called moves could’ve definitely been executed better, Jennie was sure of that, but she appreciated your efforts.

You just weren’t her type.

Jennie grimaced hearing your name. “I-I don’t know, Rosie. Nothing against her or whatever. She’s just not my type is all.”

“You know, Jennie, just because Y/N isn’t the typical person littered with tattoos that you usually go for, doesn’t mean she won’t make good company on a date.”

She wanted to rebut Lisa’s argument but she knew the girl had a point. Looking at her dating history, she was known for being with people – boys and girls – who all looked and acted like their moral compass could use some adjusting. What can she say? She has always been a sucker for someone wild.

You on the other hand could be compared to sunshine. Jennie can’t ever recall seeing you without a smile on your face. It almost seemed like it was the last step in your morning routine before walking out of your house. In Jennie’s eyes, you were too nice. Nicer than Rosé (if you’re on her good side) and that is saying a lot.

“Lisa is right, Jen. Y/N is actually super cool,” Jisoo insisted, remembering the time she bumped into you at an art exhibition. It was there that she discovered that you were one for the arts and had two of your paintings featured that night. She also noticed how people lit up at your presence and appreciated how you commanded the room whenever you began talking. It reminded her of how tough and demanding you were during a meeting she was able to attend that one time she visited Rosé. The impressed faces of your investors were ingrained in Jisoo’s brain. She was convinced you were a whole different person when needed to be.

Jisoo was fond of you. Especially for Jennie. She knew that if Jennie just gave you the time of day, Jennie would be able to look past her perception of you: boring and plain – and discover that you are more than what meets the eye.

“Yeah, Jen! Give her a chance,” Rosé was sporting a pout, clearly wanting both of her friends to get together.

With her best friends’ eyes on her, all looking like they were expecting the same answer, Jennie sighs in defeat.

Oh, what the hell. Just one date. What could go wrong, right?

“Fine.”

“Wow, we can tell just how excited you are.” Lisa was giggling at Jennie’s pained expression. She was sure Jennie was just overreacting anyway. Lisa actually thought you were cute and 100% dateable.

•

You were tapping your foot on the wooden floor of your office finishing off some paperwork when your silver-haired best friend slash business partner Rosé entered unannounced, a big smile on her face that was becoming borderline creepy.

“Why do you look like that?”

Rosé began to squeal in excitement complete with jumping up and down. “Jennie wants to go on a date with you!”

The words cause you to come to a halt as your cheeks are suddenly kissed pink, your blush searing through your cheeks.

For a minute Rosé thought her friend’s face was on fire.

“What?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me loud and clear,” Rosé teased. “Anyways, she’s free this Saturday and I did you a favor and called for a reservation at her favorite Italian restaurant by Graves Street under your name. 7PM, don’t be late! Bye!”

That was the last you heard before the girl slammed the doors of your office closed.

•

As planned, you were sat in one of the tables at Jennie’s restaurant of choice. Large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, dark walnut tables with splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, romantic candles on each table, soft live piano music, and a flagstone tile floor. The restaurant was fancy, that you could tell as you observed from your seat.

You resorted to playing with your fingers as you waited for the girl who has lived in your heart and mind rent free ever since you saw her that evening of your company’s launching. You were twenty minutes early due to the nerves that haven’t left since Rosé informed you of Jennie’s approval of the date. You couldn’t believe Jennie actually agreed to this. Last thing you heard was Jennie’s break up with her designer boyfriend of one year and that she was back on the market. You didn’t think you would be lucky enough to even be a candidate that could potentially bring her off it again.

You shake your head at your thoughts. You were getting way ahead of yourself. For now, you should just focus on getting this date right so that a second one could be on the table.

“Hey, you’re early.”

You cast your eyes upwards to see Jennie plopping down on the seat in front of you and you had to forcefully tear your eyes away from the beauty that finally graced you with her presence. She looked sinfully stunning in her black vintage Chanel dress.

“Oh, um…I-I actually just got here.” you blurted, looking bewildered. “You look beautiful.”

You wanted to hit yourself for such a basic compliment but being there with Jennie was nerve-wracking enough as it was so you cut yourself some slack. Jennie couldn’t help but giggle at how obviously flustered you were.

Cute, she thought. “Thank you, Y/N. I think you look dashing yourself.”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and prayed it wasn’t noticeable. Thankfully before you could embarrass herself, a friendly looking waiter approached your table with a menu.

“Are we ready to order ladies?”

Jennie looked to you for confirmation which you answered with a tentative nod.

“I’ll have the poached lobster with butternut squash and chestnuts and…” Jennie threw you a glance from her menu.

“I’ll have the, um, beef tenderloin with the crab salad.” You read the first thing you saw from the menu, the pressure of Jennie looking at you throwing you off. “Thank you.”

“Okay, would that be all ladies?”

“Oh, and two glasses of white house. Thanks.”

As the waiter walked away with their orders, a silence settled over them.

“I know everything seems pretentious but I promise the food is worth it,” Jennie remarked with a teasing smile.

“It’s all good, Jennie. How’s work?” Your smile fades as you notice the girl you so badly wanted to impress was suddenly distracted, her attention everywhere but on you. You tried to see what Jennie was so focused on, following her line of sight.

After a couple moments, you realize that Jennie was focused on a couple eating across from each other a few tables away from you. The boy was studiously bent over his meal while conversing with the girl as she collapsed with helpless giggles. It didn’t take you long to realize that it was Jennie’s ex, Kai, having met him during Lisa’s birthday party last year. A big point to also remember was how the dude was literally Rosé’s cousin.

“Jennie?”

Jennie was snapped out her trance, desperately trying to compose herself.

What the fuck was Kai, her ex-boyfriend, doing here with a girl? She wasn’t jealous. Not in Kai’s wildest dreams. She wouldn’t get back together with him even if he was the last option she had left. No, she was annoyed because Kai managed to bag someone before she could. She was Jennie Kim. Why wasn’t she in a disgustingly cute relationship by now? She wanted so badly to curse the boy out until she remembered she was also here for a date with Y/N. Y/N! Right, Y/N.

“Shit, sorry. I just thought I saw someone I knew,” Jennie shrugged. Her tone was apologetic but you could tell she was still distracted.

“It’s okay,” you tried to sound nonchalant, sporting a counterfeit smile, but you could practically feel the uneasy tension in the atmosphere.

You just hoped you could salvage the night.

•

You weren’t able to. Jennie stayed distracted and uninterested the rest of the night, eyes either glancing at the couple a few tables away or at her phone. She answered your questions with one worded answers and empty laughs and you were left to shift uncomfortably in your seat, grasping your sweaty and nervous hands under the table.

You threw yourself on your bed, screaming into a pillow. You couldn’t digest the defeat you felt. You had one chance to show Jennie you were worth her time and you couldn’t even get it right. You felt traumatized and humiliated. Jennie would have that disaster of a date seared into her brain forever and the thought was ready to pop up and torment you for the rest of your life. You knew the regret would come to you in random moments, demanding to be reexamined again.

No, you shouldn’t beat yourself up for it. You tried your best. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, Jennie was the reason why things didn’t go as planned tonight.

You gave your pillow another scream at the realization. Jennie was uninterested because that’s what she was – uninterested. She obviously didn’t like you enough to be present during the date.

She could’ve at least pretended to be happy to be there, you thought bitterly.

•

A week after that disaster of a date, you were walking down the street enjoying the only time of the week you had to yourself. Work had been excruciating these past few months as you were in the middle of negotiating with foreign investors and hopefully sealing the deal by next week. The late afternoon sunlight, soft and diffuse, giving way to the strong rays of the day, was doing its job of convincing you that it was gonna be a great day.

You’ve been feeling down ever since the date and you badly needed a day to recuperate and gain back the confidence that you lost. Rosé was nothing short of apologetic when she found out about the disappointing events and reassured you that she, along with Jisoo and Lisa, gave Jennie the scolding she deserved. Although your best friend’s desired reaction was for you to feel better, it just made you more embarrassed knowing that Jennie’s blatant dislike in dating you was known to all of her friends.

Today, it was your mission to forget all about Jennie and that night.

The antique store has been a treasure trove to you. It never failed to give you objects of delight and interest that instantly claimed your attention. Today was no different. Your eyes lit up as you see the old woman, who looked like your typical ahjumma, behind the counter. She wasn’t the kind of old woman you pity with old bones and troubled limbs, but the kind who could still run an entire marathon if given half the chance.

“Ah, Y/N!” the woman exclaimed, “I didn’t see you last week, dear.”

“It has been a nightmare at the company. I’m surprised I’m still walking,” you sighed, making your way to the shelves filled with odd objects.

“Y/N, you should really learn how to take a breather. You’re always at work! No wonder you’re still single,” Nora shook her head, shooting you a look of disapproval.

You laughed as you looked through every rack for some knickknack you wanted to bring home. There was a carved sandal-wood box packed tight with aromatic cotton-wool, and between the layers of cotton-wool were little brass figures, hump-necked bulls and peacocks and goblins, delightful to see and handle.

“You don’t need to remind me of my impending doom of living alone for the rest of my life, Nora.”

You let out an involuntary gasp as you spot a teapot fashioned like a china duck before carefully putting it inside your basket. You continued to stare amazed at the different peculiar objects, completely entranced, that you didn’t hear someone walking up beside you.

“Y/N?”

You jumped in surprise at the sudden voice. And not just any voice. You turned around to see Jennie looking at you with the same look of shock on her face. “Jennie?”

She looked down at your basket before giving you a tight-lipped smile. Something akin to an apologetic one.

“I’m… actually really glad I ran into you,” Jennie stammered, head bowed as if ashamed. “I’ve been meaning to apologize about my behavior last Saturday. I was being rude and incons-“

You cut her off with a soft smile, “Jennie, it’s fine. It’s all behind us now. Apology accepted.”

“Ugh, why do you have to be so understanding? I feel like shit,” she groaned, stomping her feet on the ground.

You almost laughed at how genuinely disturbed she seemed but figured you didn’t want to make her more upset.

“Stop beating yourself up for it,” you urged, gently patting her shoulder. “Anyways, I’ll have Nora ring this up on the counter. Good seeing you, Jen.”

Before you could walk away from the cat-eyed girl, you feel fingers wrapping itself around your wrist.

“It’s a beautiful day out. Care to spare a couple of hours to spend it with me?”

•

Jennie wasn’t lying. It really was a beautiful spring day out. Try as you might, your focus was scattered, filled with nervous anticipation. You were afraid you wouldn't be able to hold a conversation while your thoughts danced in infinite directions. Yeah, operation move on from Jennie Kim was not looking too good. Still as you walked with Jennie along the local park, you were determined to move past that and tried to convince yourself that this was nothing but a platonic hang out.

“How’s work been?” Jennie questioned, hands in her coat pockets as her eyes drifted to the kids playing around the field.

“Hard,” you sighed. “We’ve all been hard at work but I’m sure you know that given Rosie never really shuts up about it.”

Jennie laughs and you don’t feel the familiar butterflies you get whenever you heard the melodic sound and you think that maybe you’re finally making progress.

“Yeah, she always makes sure to give us an earful about it.”

“How about you though? The magazine is doing really great. I’ve seen at least a hundred people reading this month’s issue just today,” you exaggerated, wiggling your eyebrows which again brought out a laugh from Jennie.

She playfully nudged your shoulder, “Real funny, but yeah everything is doing really great. Getting Lady Gaga on this month’s issue was a really great move. We have Selena Gomez up next. We bagged a really great exclusive interview.”

You could hear the pride in Jennie’s voice and you knew it was warranted. Being the self-made CEO of her own fashion and lifestyle magazine, Jennie had every right to feel proud. Plus, it wasn’t easy pulling off having such A list celebrities to feature in your magazine.

“That’s really amazing, Jen. You should be proud of yourself. It’s only going up from here, I know it. I’m rooting for you,” you quipped.

Jennie shot you her famous gummy smile before letting out a whispered thank you.

As the both of you observed your surroundings, you realize you reached the pier.

“It’s getting pretty dark. Should you head home now?” you ask while taking in the beauty of the pier at night.

The pier was a permanent fun fair; bumper cars, the hall of mirrors, the ghost train, a loop-the-loop roller coaster and the big wheel. Waves playfully splashing below, gentle salty breeze, smoothies, burgers, donuts and cotton candy.

Jennie was equally taken by the bustling fair, shaking her head. “I think I can stay a little while longer.”

You broke out into a smile, holding out your hand. “Come on then!”

You dragged Jennie to the end of the dock before sitting down on the edge and beckoning her to do the same. When you tilted your head upward, you could see clearly millions of bright stars dotted on the black canvas of the night.

“It’s so beautiful,” Jennie mused.

“The pier is most beautiful at night. It never fails to shove aside the worries corrupting my mind even for a couple hours,” you smiled.

“Do you come here often?”

You snorted, “Are you flirting, Miss Kim?”

Jennie gasps before throwing her head backwards, erupting into laughter. “You know what I mean, Y/N! Also, what if I was?”

You decided to ignore the last part, suppressing the tingling feeling spreading throughout your body, “I used to come up a lot when Rosé and I were still struggling with the company.”

You could feel Jennie’s stare burning right through you.

“Tell me more about you, Y/N.”

•

Hours later, Jennie laid on her queen-size bed staring at the ceiling. She couldn’t shake the giddy state her night with you left her in. Spending time with you was filled with meaningful conversations and playful (and a little bit flirty) banter. Things with you felt natural and refreshing, like a breath of fresh air from the cocky and overconfident types she was used to going on dates with. Was this what she was missing out on when she decided to act like a complete imbecile on your date?

She couldn’t help the smile making its way to her face as she remembered the events of tonight. She felt light and warm and basically everything good in the world balled up into one. She felt like a high schooler with a crush. The thought of seeing you again tingled through her like electrical sparks on the way to the ground, gathering in her toes.

She was crushing hard.

So, when Jennie found out that Rosé was throwing a big party for her birthday next week, all she could think about was seeing you, talking to you, and maybe stealing a kiss. She was convinced she was just floating through her way on the days leading up to Rosé’s party.

The party was electric just as Jennie expected. Everyone was feeding off of each other’s smiles and fast dancing. She was in one of the lounge couches chatting with her friends sipping on a rum runner as she tried to look past the sweaty dancing bodies with the mission of spotting you.

“Jendeukie, you seem distracted!” Jisoo yelled through the music.

Jennie chuckled, feeling a blush form on her cheeks. Thankfully, the glow from consuming one or two glasses of alcoholic drinks successfully masked it.

“Excuse me for a sec,” she announced as she got up and made her way to the kitchen.

“Jen!”

She cringed as she realized who the voice belonged to. She almost forgot Kai was Rosé’s cousin and was most likely invited to the party.

“Kai, hey…” she sighed.

She was annoyed that the boy had interrupted her attempt to find you, plus she really wasn’t in the mood for small talk with an ex.

“You look ravishing tonight,” Kai smirked, reaching out for Jennie.

She quickly dodged Kai’s advances and whooshed past him, leaving the boy confused in her wake.

“Nice seeing you but I gotta go!”

She breathed a sigh of relief as she escaped her lame excuse of an ex-boyfriend but the relief was short-lived as her eyes found the scene not a couple feet away from her. You were by the sliding door that lead to Rosé’s poolside talking to some woman who was clearly interested in you, judging by the way she was caressing your arm up and down with her ugly wicked fingers. The woman started laughing and she knew you probably said something stupidly funny, reminding her of how much you made her laugh last week. This time though, Jennie was not on the receiving end of your witty remarks and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

This was probably how you felt that night when Jennie ignored your whole existence just to stare all night at her ex. Jennie felt disappointment bubble inside her as she finally decided to tear her gaze away from you and the girl. She sighed as she accepted the fact that you were done with her. Why wouldn’t you be? Did she really expect you to pine over her for years and then come crawling back just because of one night where Jennie did the bare minimum and was a decent human being to you?

Dejected, she takes a break from the loud and busy party downstairs and made her way to the upstairs balcony. The balcony was a concrete ledge with square rough edges but it quickly became an oasis to Jennie as she found comfort in the silence.

“Hey there, stranger.”

Jennie turned her head so fast she swore she almost had whiplash.

“Y/N?”

You grinned as you joined her near the railings, “The one and only. What are you doing here?”

Jennie shrugged off the bitter feeling of seeing you flirting with another girl and forced out a smile, “Needed some fresh air. How about you? You seemed really busy downstairs.”

You raise an eyebrow at Jennie’s icy tone, narrowing your eyes at the girl. What was she on about?

At your (admittedly adorable) confused look, Jennie sighed as she explained.

“You were busy chatting up a girl downstairs, were you not?”

“Careful,” you teased. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

Expecting a defensive reply, you were surprised to find the girl fiddling with her hands. “Jennie?”

You saw as Jennie struggled, clenching and unclenching her jaw, eyes closed in frustration.

“I…I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight,” she lamented, finally opening her eyes to meet yours.

“For some reason, I can’t stop thinking about you. That night at the pier…” she went on, “I realized how stupid I was for not paying attention to you sooner. This amazing person right under my fucking nose the whole time. God, I could’ve saved us both a crapload of time if I weren’t so dumb.”

To say you weren’t expecting this was an understatement. Was Jennie Kim confessing to you? You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“No use thinking about what could’ve happened if you did this or that,” you stared seriously at the girl in front of you. “Um, I’m right here now, aren’t I?”

You tried to laugh but it came out strained. You still couldn’t believe what was happening.

“So, the girl downstairs?”

“Literally just met her tonight. She’s cool. Didn’t really pay any mind to her to be honest,” you smiled.

“Good,” Jennie hummed, satisfied with your answer. “I meant what I said by the way. I’d really like to start over.”

Before you could come up with a reply, soft plump limps planted itself on your cheek.

“If you’ll have me,” Jennie whispers against your cheek.

•

“Ugh, today was so stressful!” Jennie agonized as she plopped down on the soft cushion of your sofa. Immediately, her body finds itself entangled with yours. This, Jennie knew, was all she needed after a long day.

“Tell me about it then baby,” you started running your fingers through her messy curls while your free hand intertwined your hands together.

“First, the AC in my office broke down and I was sweating buckets half the day since the repair team didn’t arrive until 2PM,” Jennie revealed, planting a soft kiss on your neck. “To make things worse, my beautiful girlfriend wasn’t able to visit me because she had a meeting come up last minute.”

You giggled hearing your girlfriend’s words, “Clingy.”

Jennie breaks away from your hold, a wild look on her face. “How dare you! Is it a crime that I’m desperately in love with you and wanted to see you during my lunch break?”

“I’m kidding,” you chuckled. “You know I would’ve loved to see your pretty face today.”

“You better be,” Jennie taunted. “I love you.”

…

...

“Hey Jen?”

“Hm?”

“Remember two years ago on our first date you ignored me the whole time to glare at your ex-boyfriend?”

Your soft laugh filled them room as Jennie groaned, hitting you square on the stomach, “Don’t you dare bring that up. I don’t even wanna imagine not being with you. Just the thought makes me wanna puke.”

You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s dramatics, “Good thing you don’t have to ever live through that then.” hi:) i accept requests now

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagine #jennie kim #jennie x reader #jennie imagine #jennie #blackpink scenarios

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pinkoptics · 3 years

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Would You Catch Me If I Fall?

aka Cherik Fallen Angel fic

Part 2 of Chapter 2

(Previous parts now on Ao3)

Erik is going to do everything he can to make sure Charles is taken care of. Charles saved his life. That’s why. Right… right???

“Mr. Olsen, I believe you will do exactly as I’ve asked.”

Mr. Olsen opened his mouth, to protest most likely, but Erik was well practiced in speaking in a way that left no room for interruption. “You will, because you are aware of the exact amount my firm has donated to your hospital this year and every other before it.”

Mr. Olsen was turning an interesting shade of red. It had nothing on Azazel, but the flush beneath his skin was making a concerted effort.

“You are also aware of what it would do to this hospital’s reputation for being at the forefront of mutant medicine if my firm were to very vocally withdraw its support and place it elsewhere, say... Johns Hopkins?”

“Mr. Lehnsherr—“ Still red, but now also sputtering. “You do not have the authority. Shaw would never—“

Erik smiled in such a way that Olsen cut himself off. Erik’s smile, though the word hardly applied, very early in his career had earned him the nickname ‘The Shark.’ Only used when he knew his prey was very much backed into a corner of their own making and it was time for the kill.

“If The Incident were to suddenly appear on social media again, with a narrative much closer to the truth...”

Red became purple. “We have an NDA! You can’t—“

“When information is out it is out, Mr. Olsen. Non-disclosures only hold weight if the parties involved care about the consequences. I could give a fuck. Besides, whether this hospital is guilty or innocent, reputations once ruined are terribly hard to salvage, aren’t they? Once, tried in the court of public opinion...”

“Shaw would— you’d be—“

Erik simply raised an eyebrow.

Olsen was right. Erik didn’t have the authority to stop donations, Shaw would have his job and his ass if he ever went to the public about any of the firm’s cases. Moreover, he would probably lose his license to practice. None of those things mattered however, not because Erik truly didn’t care, but because Olsen only needed to believe he was serious. If Erik couldn’t sense the man’s weaknesses, and couldn’t exploit them, he would hardly have been the best lawyer at his firm (no matter what Emma said to the contrary). The seed of doubt, once planted in a weak mind, was notoriously difficult to weed out.

“Fine,” Olsen ground out. Looking like he was very much sucking on a lemon.

Erik levitated the paperwork he had prepared by its staple. It was accompanied by one of the disgustingly expensive fountain pens the firm utilized to perpetuate its reputation. It hovered in front of the sour countenance and Erik felt the same sense of satisfaction he did after a particularly shrewd cross examination.

Threatening Olsen in this way was beyond overkill.

However, Erik knew of nothing else that would resolve Charles’ situation as swiftly. As Olsen scratched out his signature nearly hard enough to tear paper, Charles’ need for insurance, identity, and anything else he did not have, vanished.

Besides, he’d never liked this man or this hospital, so if he got to have a little fun while getting Charles what he needed, all the better. The faster he could get Charles out of here unscathed the better. He owed him that much, possibly more. There were few people insane enough, selfless enough, to throw themselves in front of a car for a stranger. Erik had made it his life’s work to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. Charles had more than earned that same protection until he was back to his former self.

T’s crossed and i’s dotted, Erik left Olsen to fume, so he could share the good news with Charles. The words that had been leaping forward died on his lips when he took in the state of Charles’ room.

“. . . Did you rob a florist?”

Charles graced him with a much less hysterical, much more pleasant sounding laugh than he had any time previously.

“Aren’t people just lovely? This one is from the nurse on call, Ben. He has the most adorable little boy. Teething at the moment, which is trying of course, but he’s so precious one can hardly be cross. I’m sure Ben would be happy to show you the photos too. This one is from Dr. Yousef, whom you’ve already met. She detests flowers, personally, as she’s never home consistently enough to care for them properly. This one is from Saima...”

While Charles no longer appeared to be in a state of hysteria, it appeared to be Erik’s turn, and he became suddenly, hysterically deaf. Had he misplaced a day? Or two? More? Was he the one with the head injury?

“Did you— I mean, do you know them?”

Charles cut off his still in-progress monologue about his sudden and inexplicable well-wishers.

“Oh no. We’ve just met. Nancy would like to get coffee when I’m better though. I believe that is a cultural expression of friendship, is it not? Or does coffee equal sex? It’s so hard to keep track of these things as humans rarely say what they truly mean. Why do you lot insist upon speaking in code? A code that changes every generation no less. Regardless, I’ve never had coffee. Given how utterly obsessed with it you all are I’m rather excited to find out what all the fuss is about.”

Erik didn’t know what part of that to address first, if at all.

Ben, Yousef, Saima... who the fuck was Nancy?

Sex?

Never had coffee?

“Oh Erik, I’m sorry. You look so confused again. I forget myself. I would much rather have coffee for the first time with you of course. At that diner you speak so highly of. I believe diners generally serve coffee.”

Erik blinked. Did that mean Charles wanted to be his friend or have sex with him? Or, did never having had coffee actually mean never having had sex? No. Wait. What in the fuck were they talking about?

What came out was, mercifully, “You make friends quickly.” This was something he and Charles certainly didn’t share.

“Do I?” Charles shrugged. “I love people. All people. They’re so fascinating.” Something else he and Charles certainly didn’t share. In his experience, most people were dull or cruel or both. Except Charles. Charles had been the exact opposite of dull or cruel right from the first. Crashing headfirst into Erik, literally and figuratively, and smashing all his expectations of what people did or didn’t do for one another. It might have also been the head injury/amnesia mitigating the dullness, making him say the most ridiculous things that Erik had ever heard and couldn’t even begin to sort out, but Erik didn’t really think so. He read people extremely well and Charles intrigued him. No one intrigued him.

Shoving the friends/coffee/sex equivalency conversation aside, Erik patted his briefcase. “I’ve sorted out everything with hospital administration. You won’t have to worry about insurance, bills... if there’s anything you need, just ask. They will be sure you get it.”

“I won’t ask how you managed it.” Charles’ look became conspiratorial. Almost as if he did know Erik’s methods. There was no way, of course, that he did unless he was a telepath, which Erik had already briefly mused on. “You really needn’t have troubled yourself, though I appreciate it, you, all the same.”

There it was again. The strange gravity his words seemed to possess. Erik flushed, not something he ever did, feeling that appreciation to his core. Charles’ smile deepened and somehow held the same weight as his words. Looking at it was almost too much, like looking straight at the sun, it warmed parts of Erik he hadn’t even realized were cold.

“You can stay with me,” Erik said, apropos of nothing, then flinched, his own words surprising him. It wasn’t the offer he had intended to make. The Firm put people up all the time for various reasons, and Erik had planned to slip Charles in to one of his current cases with no one the wiser. The doctor felt certain it wouldn’t be long until his memory returned, based on her previous experience of such cases.

Charles’ astonishment seemed to match his own. “Erik, that’s too much. You’ve done so much already.”

Erik rubbed at the back of neck, avoiding Charles’ eyes, which were comically, anime-wide. While he hadn’t meant to make the offer, he also found now that he had, he also had no sense of regret. His flat was large, he practically lived at the firm, so it would hardly be an inconvenience and the less he abused his position, the less tracks he had to cover.

He coughed, “There’s always Nancy.” Erik hoped the joke would break the sudden tension. “You could take her up on her ambiguous offer.” Charles laughed. Success.

“Coffee, and whatever else it may suggest, is a far cry from living together. Besides, I don’t even know Nancy.”

“You don’t know me either. You may have unwittingly saved a sociopath the world would be better without.”

Charles shook his head. “Don’t be absurd. You’re a good man, Erik. Better than you know.”

Everything about this was absurd.

“It’s settled then, when they discharge you, you can stay with me until we figure out who you are.”

Charles’ face, which Erik was already beginning to realize was nakedly expressive, came over suddenly unreadable.

“I—“ Charles hesitated, eyes flicking away from Erik to the window. Erik supposed coming to live with any stranger was enough to give anyone pause, especially someone who was as disoriented as Charles must already be. He was about to shift back to his original, much less awkward, plan when Charles’ gaze focused back on him. “All right. Until... until then.”

“Until then,” Erik echoed and they both fell suddenly silent.

He was inviting someone to live with him when he had never lived with anyone besides his mother his entire life. Roommates? Please. Erik had never had to, but would have rather lived in a squalid apartment than have to share a living space with anyone, even when putting himself through the extraordinary expenditure of american law school. Yet, here he was. Here they were. It felt right. Perhaps he had an overabundance of gratitude and quid pro quo to sate. It was the only thing that made any sense in the face of something that made absolutely no sense.

He’d probably regret it the instant Charles was in his space, but he also wasn’t someone who went back on his word, so he was taking in this stray whether he came to regret it or not.

Mama, at least, would approve.

Now on Ao3

Thanks for reading!!

#cherik #cherik fanfic #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #fallen angel fic #pinkoptics fic

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klaineownsmysoul · 3 years

Note

Here's a thought he's a musician she's a musician just maybe have some promo with I don't know something music related?? Wild thought I know! I just can't grasp what does posing almost nude have to do with the podcast? And I also hate how they make everything around either about n****y or s**.. the bar & now this . It's like they haven't matured at all, can't seem t grasp that even intelligence & charm sells .. not to sound prude or anything but D is way better than this.. this is just clickbait

Well now you're just talking crazy! Designing an ad that actually reflects what the product is for? HA! I don't get what the whole Adam and Eve thing has to do with either of their music careers or the upcoming podcast but hey - guess that's on me. I'm not a psychotic tiktok/twitter teen so my opinion on things doesn't seem to matter anymore. To be clear - I don't mind the idea of D doing a podcast. We all know how much he loves to talk and listening to him ramble (in a good way) on about things he's passionate about is a delight. As I stated previously, I don't need to see him nearly naked to be interested in what he's doing. I am here, he's got me. I'm a captive audience. But unfortunately with social media the way it is now, its all about the likes and retweets and as you said, clickbait. And what's more clickbait than nudity, which has always - at least to me - felt like a celeb scraping the bottom of the relevancy barrel when they don't have much else left to keep themselves in the spotlight. But D? He does. In spades. He acts, he sings, name an instrument and I'm sure he can play it, he writes music, he's incredibly intelligent and well spoken, he's a nerdy goofball who loves Disney and Star Wars (or Star Trek because apparently they're interchangeable if you're ghostwriting kicking things up a notch engagement posts) but none of that is good enough to stand on its own. Does he swear like a sailor? Sure. Guess what? So do I. Whenever people apologize for swearing in front of me, I always say clearly that means you haven't driven with me or watched a Mets game with me. If you had, you wouldn't feel the need to say anything.

D sadly has possibly the laziest most incompetent team around him and they've decided that forever marketing him as the teenage dream he was when he landed Blaine 10 years ago is the only way to go. So they've tripled down on the super straight super married frat boy image of him but think its ok to sneak in some gay stuff when its can be used for promo - as long as its always countered with either the ball and chain herself or some half assed reminder of her oppressive presence in every single aspect of his life. Like that awful tacky truly heinous trashy strip bar of hers that he's been stuck shilling for since before it opened and is the only reason anyone shows up. Nothing says suave intelligence like a glass of boob soup washed down by some period sex while watching strippers give out lap dances in the middle of a business billed as Broadway-themed piano bar. Pardon me while I go bleach my brain for a moment. But this is the maturity level of the people who surround him and have the means to greatly impact his career. They can't reach high enough to fly with D so instead they drag him down to their level and this is the result. He's better than all of them and could do so much more if he had a support team who knew how/cared to capitalize on all his talents instead of using him for their own purposes. He needs to find a team who knows its job is to stay on the sidelines and not be seen or heard and cut these vultures loose as soon as he can before he has nothing left to salvage.

#all of them need to go #its such a fucking waste

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 79 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Violet and Sutan showed up for Bob’s drag show. Courtney had a disastrous day at work before Galactica shut down for the holidays.

This Chapter: Violet parties a little too hard, Sutan gets sick, and Miss Fame finds out about her precious sketches.

***

Violet wasn’t surprised that Bob was an amazing and hilarious performer. What had surprised her was how into it Sutan seemed, slapping his thighs at every joke, cheering loudly, tipping all of the queens generously.

It was so unlike how he behaved at the adult parties they normally frequented, so unlike how he normally spent a night out mingling and networking, his charm laid on so thick sometimes that the real him barely even poked through.

At one point, after watching him stuff a couple of bills down one queen’s corset, Violet must have had some kind of strange expression, because Sutan caught her eye and gave her a wink, saying, “Not my first drag show, darling.”

Violet smiled, shaking her head at him, though she gladly accepted the kiss he offered up, Sutan’s lips tasting like whiskey and those horrible green shots. It was great to see him, to watch the grown man she cared so much for light up with boyish delight, Sutan throwing himself wholeheartedly into the show.

By the time Bob came up to their table after the show, she was starting to really feel the effects of all the drinks she’d had throughout the night, her speech sounding much slurrier than she intended when she accepted a sweaty hug from Bob.

“You were so good up there,” she said, trying to get out her words without sounding as crazy drunk as she felt, “Best one by far.”

“Wow,” said a voice nearby, and Bob let out a hearty laugh.

“You heard her, Thorgy, I’m the best. By far,” Bob cackled, turning and sticking his tongue out at a green-haired queen.

“Your friends are so sweet, Bob, you should bring them more often,” she said snidely, and Violet’s eyes widened, realizing her mistake.

“No, I just meant, uh, that...that you-” she stammered out, and Bob laughed even harder.

“No, we heard you,” continued Thorgy, giving an exaggerated eye roll. “As if Bob needs anything else to make his fat head even bigger.”

“Would you chill, bitch? She was just giving me a compliment! Nobody murdered your family.”

“Shut up, Bob!”

Violet tried to shrink as they continued to bicker, Maxwell slipping her another shot and whispering, “Don’t worry, they’re just like that. Bottoms up.”

Violet picked up the shot, toasting Maxwell with a little shrug, just as Sutan returned to the table with a fresh round for everyone.

***

“Sutan,” Violet groaned, and Sutan couldn’t help but smile, his girlfriend under his arm, snuggled against his side, an open bottle of water in her hand.

“Yes darling?” It had been a bit of a struggle to get to the taxi, Violet suddenly a whole lot drunker than he had ever seen her before, but they had had an amazing night.

It had been literal years since he had last been to a drag show, and he had forgotten how much fun they generally were.

It had been good to see Violet’s work friends, and to get to know them a little better, to know for certain that his girlfriend was surrounded by good people when she went to work.

“I don’t feel good…” Violet whined, the tone so new for her Sutan had to bite his cheek not to chuckle.

“I know lovely eyes.” He held her hand, gently lifting it and the bottle to her lips so Violet could drink some more water. He should probably have stopped her about 5 shots ago, but he hadn’t wanted to cut off her fun, which she was now paying the price for.

Violet took a sip, her nose scrunching up like it tasted all wrong, Sutan holding her in place even as he took the bottle.

“We’ll be home soon.”

He had been smart enough to change the sheets before they left, the task one he normally left for his housekeeper but she was on vacation, painkillers and water bottles ready on the nightstands - fresh sheets and a cracked window a guaranteed recipe for a good night’s sleep, something they both truly needed.

“Mmh,” Violet tried to pull away, her hand pushing against his leg so Sutan let her, his girlfriend sitting up straight.

“I really don’t feel good,” Violet dumped her head back against the headrest, “like I think, I might-”

The taxi rounded a corner, and Violet’s hand flew to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with panic, and Sutan knew instantly what was about to happen.

“Stop the car!” Sutan reached over Violet, opening the door and unbuckling her seatbelt in one fluid motion, a hand on her hip pushing her out on the street as he yelled over his shoulder to the driver. “Stay!”

Sutan followed behind Violet with practiced ease, the maneuver one he had done hundreds of times, models often drinking way too much if they didn't snort something worse during the first year of their career.

“Over here,” Sutan hated that he was forcing Violet to stand on her bad leg, but he didn’t have much choice, one hand finding her waist as he turned her in an attempt to support her weight, “How are you feeling-”

He was cut off as Violet grabbed his arm and bent forward to throw up, the majority of it landing directly on Sutan’s shoes, his fingers only just catching her ponytail.

“Oh god,” Violet choked, “I’m so sorry-” She didn’t finish, as she puked again and Sutan sighed, the second round of vomit soaking his shoes completely, the leather officially beyond salvageable.

“I’m sorry,” Violet’s forehead was leaning against his stomach, Sutan’s hand on her neck, a hiccup leaving her, her voice quivering with tears. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry-”

“Hey, hey,” Sutan tightened his grip, using his other hand to gently push on Violet’s shoulder to get her to stand up. Her face was an absolute mess, tears streaming down her cheeks, “Lovely eyes, don’t worry-”

“You’re wearing Prada.” Violet sobbed, her hand coming up in a desperate attempt to wipe her tears, and Sutan knew it was wrong, he just couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Violet hit his chest, but she still allowed him to move her so she was leaning against the taxi, the tip he’d need to give their driver growing by the second. Violet had thankfully not thrown up on herself, which was a true blessing combined with the fact that he had shoved the water bottle into his pocket. He took it out, uncapping it to pour the water over his shoes, washing them to the best of his ability.

It wasn’t perfect, but he had dealt with a lot worse.

Violet was pale, but she didn’t look like she was going to throw up again, so Sutan helped her back in the car, giving the driver a hundred as a thank you for not leaving them stranded.

“Lovely eyes?” Sutan felt a moment of panic when he realized Violet hadn’t said a word since they got back in the car, “Is everything-“

“I’m so embarrassed, I can’t believe I-“ Violet groaned, frustration heavy in her voice, “I threw up all over your Prada shoes.”

“You know,” Sutan grinned, the few times someone had thrown up in his hands so much worse than what he had just experienced. “You’re the only girl I know who’d care about the brand of shoes I’m wearing right now. The vomit would have been plenty for most.”

“Can we please just, not?” Violet sighed heavily, but she did lean her head against his shoulder, which Sutan took as a very good sign. “I’d love to pretend all of this never happened.”

“Violet. They’re just shoes.” Sutan pressed a kiss against her temple, “You’re so much more important.”

***

Raven flipped through the dresses she hadn’t worn in public yet, looking for the one she was going to be wearing for New Year’s. She had gotten several options for her and Raja, but they hadn’t had the chance yet to try anything on and make the decision, glittering suits and the more theatrical pieces Raja preferred on her side of their walk-in closet.

“What do you think of a green theme?” Raven looked over her shoulder and over at Raja, who was sitting sideways in one of the arm chairs, her legs over the armrest, a bouquet of lilies on the side table.

Raven loved their gigantic walk-in closet, the room so big they had to take down a wall when they moved in, but it was one of her favorite rooms in their apartment, so it was well worth it. It was all done in shades of beige and gray, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the couch and the arm chairs almost making it feel like a miniature store.

“Raj?” Raven waited for a beat, but when she didn’t get a reply, she turned around.

“Hello? Earth to Raja?” Raven crossed her arms, annoyance curling in her belly. She hated being ignored, and right now, she was being ignored by her favorite person. “Urgh!” Raven huffed, stomping over and grabbing the phone from Raja’s hands.

“Hey!” Raja’s eyes widened in surprise and she sat up, her feet hitting the floor. “Give me my phone-”

“You promised-” Raven held her hand up so Raja couldn’t get the phone, her fiancée grabbing her hips and pulling her in between her spread legs, “you wouldn’t work.”

“I’m not,” Raja tightened her grip, and Raven had to bite back a moan as she felt her short nails dig through the fabric of her dress. “I’m texting Tan.”

“Please,” Raven turned the phone, still holding it over her head so she could see the screen without Raja snatching it away. She had expected to see her emails pulled up, Raja often working at the strangest of times, but instead, all she saw was a row of text messages in Indonesian.

“... Okay, so,” Raven hated admitting that she was wrong, but this once, it seemed like Raja wasn’t actually ignoring her for work. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Raja smiled as she was handed her phone, her hand guiding Raven to sip on her lap, which she gladly did. “Tan says he has a cold.”

“What?” Raven raised an eyebrow, her arms around Raja’s neck. Sutan never got sick, like, never ever, so this was an unexpected turn of events. “Really?”

“Mmh,” Raja nodded, “He woke up with a fever, but it seems like Violet is there.”

This time, it was Raven’s turn to smile, her hand gliding under Raja’s open shirt. “So you’re going to go check in on him?”

“Oh definitely.” Raja grinned, “Who do you think I am?”

***

“Keep the change.”

To say that Violet was feeling guilty would be an understatement. She did her best not to spill the soup as she made her way back towards the living room where Sutan was sleeping on the couch, the TV running on the news channel.

It was terribly unfair, but she had woken up without as much as a headache, while Sutan was coughing his lungs out, her boyfriend hot with fever. Raja had done a pharmacy run, buying every medicine under the sun for her brother, which was now spread out on the coffee table. Raja had offered to stay, but Sutan had sent her away, telling her with a smile that Violet was taking care of him.

It was equal parts unexpected and amazing that he trusted her, that he still wanted her around after she had literally thrown up on him, the ruined shoes something Violet knew would be haunting her nightmares.

It was truly a miracle that she hadn’t fled the apartment, but she didn’t want to disappoint Sutan, so she stayed.

Violet put the bag down, returning with utensils and bowls from the kitchen, when Sutan cracked an eye open, her boyfriend looking up at her.

“Hey,” Sutan smiled, his hair adorably messy, the blanket all the way up to his chin, a small mountain of used tissues in the bin Violet had put by his head.

“I got you lunch.”

“What?” Sutan sat up, grabbing his glasses from the table to put them on. He was wearing a gigantic sweater and a pair of sweatpants, thick wool socks on his feet. “Wait, is that? Did you get me chicken soup-” He didn’t finish, a cough cutting him off, and Violet felt her heart clench.

“Bread too.”

“Ha,” Sutan snorted, a grin on his lips. “You’re the best,” he tilted his head for a kiss, but Violet reacted on instinct, putting a hand on his forehead, pushing him back, which made Sutan laugh.

“What?”

“You’re all...snotty…” Violet tried not to wrinkle her nose, but it was hard not to, his skin hot to the touch.

“So you can throw up on my shoes, but I can’t get one little kiss?”

Violet rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile over Sutan’s attitude. “Fine.” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss against Sutan’s forehead. “And I really am sorry, I promise that I’ll replace them-”

“Lovely eyes,” Sutan looked up at her, her hands on his shoulder. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t care about the shoes.”

“But-” They hadn’t actually talked about it sober, and while Violet wished that the earth would swallow her up, she pushed on, “You always make excuses for me, and forgive things you shouldn’t, and I-”

“Violet,” Sutan reached up, touching her elbow, “That’s what you do when you love someone, and I happen to love you.”

“...You love me?”

“I do,” Sutan smiled, “I really do.”

“I-” Violet didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, but as she looked at Sutan’s face, she realized that he meant it. This man, this strange, wonderful, amazing man, loved her, and Violet had no idea what she had done to deserve him. “I love you too.”

***

PEARL: How would you feel about a NYE party at 230 5th?

DAHLIA: Well that sounds fuckin posh. How’d you get on the list for something so chic?

PEARL: I’m chic as fuck

DAHLIA: Lol if you say so

PEARL: Lol, is that a yes?

DAHLIA: Sure, why not.

PEARL: Perf. You wanna come over early and get ready together?

DAHLIA: Don’t want to wait until the end of the night to get lucky, huh?

PEARL: Nope ;)

***

Symone yawned, leaning against a column in the Terminal 5 baggage claim, her sunglasses hiding her face as she was waiting for Gigi to appear on the escalator.

Her flight from Little Rock had arrived less than 2 hours before Gigi’s, and even though she could have easily gone back to the apartment, she had told her that she’d wait for her.

Symone was exhausted, but she was also psyched to see her friend, their time apart feeling much longer than a week, so staying at the airport had felt like the obvious choice.

Finally she spotted her, in what looked like a brand new forest green coat with fur trim, Gigi’s red hair hidden under a green hat, her friend carrying herself like a starlet who had stepped off of an old Hollywood movie set.

“Geeg!” Symone called out, waving, and her face broke out into a huge grin as she waved back.

Once Gigi got to the bottom of the escalator, she raced forward, nearly tripping in her platform boots as she ran towards Symone, flinging herself into her arms for a huge hug, squealing out, “Hiiiii!”

“Hey girl, long time no see,” Symone said, laughing, holding her tight. Gigi smelled like airport but underneath it, she was exactly herself, her skin warm and soft, and Symone had missed her more than she was willing to admit.

Soon, the two girls were standing in front of the baggage carousel, arms linked, giggling like crazy as they caught each other up on the latest family drama and antics from their siblings while waiting for Gigi’s bags to show up.

It felt good to be back together, and Symone basked in Gigi’s attention.

It wasn’t like she had never had friends, wasn’t like she hadn't had best friends, but Gigi was special, and Symone felt her heart skip a beat as she took her hand, intertwining their fingers.

“So,” Gigi looked at her, a smile on her face. “Pizza?”

Symone laughed, but nodded, Gigi a terrible but also amazing influence. “Pizza.”

***

“Sutan told Violet he loves her.”

“What?” Trixie looked up from the onion he was chopping, and over at Katya who was sitting at the kitchen table, one hand on her stomach, her thumb rubbing back and forth, her phone in the other.

“She just texted.” Katya titled her screen, though she didn’t actually show the text.

“Haven’t they been dating for months?” Trixie turned around, pretty sure that he had heard the earliest rumors about them going out together from Pearl all the way back in september.

“Not everyone says love you after the second date sugarbutt,” Katya grinned and Trixie smiled, a delighted flush filling his cheeks.

***

Fame sighed, a sense of restlessness and uneasiness lying heavily over her. They had come back from The Farm that morning, Fame spending the early afternoon in her study rearranging her chicken figurine collection.

Patrick had found the most gorgeous ceramic Plymouth Rock figurine, the black and white chicken absolutely a masterpiece, and Fame knew that she should be happy, tinkering with her collection usually an instant source of joy, but today, she just felt…unwell.

Fame wanted to talk to Bianca, but she also didn’t want to talk to Bianca, annoyance at how she had behaved at the dinner party still dancing under her skin.

Bianca hadn’t said sorry, not beyond the hurried apology she had thrown over her shoulder as she left, in fact, she hadn’t contacted her at all besides a single text on Christmas morning.

Fame closed the glass door to her chicken cabinet, walking over to her desk to pick up her phone. She knew it was torture, but she opened her messages, tapping Bianca’s name.

BIANCA: Merry Christmas, Blondie. Let’s hang out when I’m back in Jan. XO

Fame hadn’t replied, annoyance wheeling up in her at how casually Bianca dared to act, how she attempted to sweep how hurtful she had been under the rug yet again. She had overheard Juju and Detox discussing that Bianca had left the country, but Fame had very intentionally not checked any of Bianca’s social media, though Pearl swore to her that a simple look was untrackable.

She began typing out a message, but then stopped, deleting it again. It was too late to respond now without seeming petty, and Fame hated whenever Bianca accused her of that, but they still needed to talk, needed to actually talk about what was going on.

She needed an excuse, some reason to contact Bianca and lure her into a meeting, so she wouldn’t have to show her how she was feeling in text.

Maybe she could find out if one of their regular brunch spots had added anything new to their menu, and then ask if Bianca wanted to join her.

Fame sighed yet again, the plan seeming impossible as she took a seat in her chair, the latest paper deliveries from Galactica lying in a neat stack.

If nothing else, her bad mood could be useful for tearing through some of the more dull and dry parts of her job. Fame took the top one, the weight of it depressing in itself since Fame knew it wasn’t anything fun, Alyssa amazing at her job though she also insisted on being a pain in Fame’s ass.

She made it two thirds of the way through the report before boredom overwhelmed her. She needed something interesting, something fun, and if she was lucky, she knew just where she could find it.

FAME: Hi love, I know you’re still on vacation, but if you have some time today, I would love to hear your thoughts on my sketches. :)

TRIXIE: Your sketches?

FAME: Yes. The Met ones that my office sent to you before we shut down.

TRIXIE: Let me check my computer

Fame took a bottle of Pellegrino from the little office fridge under her desk, twisting the cap and grabbing a glass as she waited for Trixie’s reply.

TRIXIE: I don’t want to get anyone in trouble

TRIXIE: But the last email I have from Courtney is about the investor meeting.

Fame rolled her eyes, absolutely exasperated at Courtney’s inability to follow through with the simplest of instructions, since she was positive that she’d told her to send the sketches.

It took three calls for her to answer her phone, and by the time she did, Fame was fuming.

“Why doesn’t Trixie have my sketches?”

“Um...well, Miss, I…” Courtney’s voice sounded shaky and tearful, which Fame didn’t understand. If she would just follow simple instructions like any assistant, she wouldn’t get scolded or lectured. Her victim act made Fame even more irritated than she was already.

“Tell me! Because Trixie says he doesn’t have them and I know I told you to take care of them-”

“I-I think they might be gone.”

“Gone?” Fame froze, a few seconds ticking by before she really understood what Courtney had said. She felt her heartbeat speed up, dread collecting in her stomach. “What do you mean gone?!” Fame could hear her tone grow shrill, and knew that there was a good chance that Charles would come running any minute, her dog always showing up when she was upset.

“Well, I was in a cab on the way back to the office and then when you called, I-I was distracted and I must have not seen them on the seat…”

“Oh god…” Fame tried to take a deep breath, tuning out Courtney’s ridiculous explanation, her incompetence so staggering that she hadn’t even been able to do something as simple as not losing Fame’s original work.

She couldn’t believe it.

Her sketches were really gone, her work lost somewhere in the city, defenseless against whoever might happen across it.

“...and I have messages in to every company that operates-”

“Enough!” Fame exploded. “I don’t care for your pitiful excuses. How could you be so absolutely irresponsible?! I have put up with all of your mistakes, your incompetence, but this is beyond anything, those were- You’ve done, this, this is unforgivable Courtney-”

The door opened, Charles annoyingly enough clever enough to work out door handles.

“Miss, I’m so sorry-”

Fame could hear that Courtney was crying, but she didn’t care, her heart hammering away in her ears, words spilling from her lips, the only thing stopping her when she heard Bianca’s voice in her ear.

“Blondie!”

“Put Courtney back on the phone-”

“No.” Bianca’s voice was stern, and Fame couldn’t believe that she was taking that tone with her, especially considering her little sex toy’s latest fuck-up. “We’re trying to enjoy dinner-”

“Bianca-”

“You can finish this rant on Monday, but for now, she’s mine. See ya soon!”

Fame heard the beep of a phone being hung up, and as she lowered it from her ear, she saw that Bianca had done just that, cutting her off, and her blood boiled.

Bianca had betrayed her yet again, and Fame could feel her heart breaking, the whole thing so terribly fucking unfair.

Fame threw her phone down on the carpet, and put her arms around Charles neck, the heavy breath of her dog in her ear as she clung to him.

***

Courtney gaped at Bianca, mouth open in shock.

“What?”

“You just hung up on Miss Fame!” she exclaimed. She wiped the tears still trickling down her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, so? She deserved it.” Bianca sipped her cocktail, shrugging.

“Bianca! That’s my boss!” The truth, that Courtney wouldn’t admit out loud, was that witnessing it had been a little bit thrilling. No one had ever defended her like that. If she wasn’t so terrified of the repercussions, she’d have been delighted.

“You wanna call her back?” Bianca asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Well...no.” Courtney lifted her hand to her mouth, smothering a nervous laugh. “Oh god, she’s gonna kill me.”

“She won’t.” Bianca reached out and took Courtney’s hand. “At least not until next Monday.”

Courtney gave a rueful smile, shoulders sagging a bit. She’d been having the best time with Bianca, every day filled with joy and excitement and love. Part of her wished that it could last forever.

But of course, it couldn’t. It was just a vacation. And tomorrow they were flying back to New York. Which in and of itself wasn’t a problem. After all, they had a fabulous New Year’s Eve party to go to, which was being hosted by Jinkx Monsoon. (The Jinkx Monsoon, who Courtney was thrilled to finally meet; she hoped she wouldn’t embarrass herself by being too much of a fangirl.)

And then a few days later, the movers would come to help her get all her things from her apartment, and she could say goodbye forever to the apartment that her friends called “The Dungeon.”

So things were looking up--at least better than they had in a long time.

But then there was work.

Courtney knew that she should be grateful for all the wonderful things in her life, but the feeling she’d gotten when she saw Fame’s name pop up on her phone had been sheer, unbridled panic. And it hadn’t gotten any better once she’d answered. The thought of going back to all that, where every move she made was wrong, where she was nothing but a fuck-up and a disappointment, was upsetting and frustrating and beyond anything just exhausting.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” Bianca asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“Nothing,” Courtney said, attempting a smile, which Bianca clearly didn’t buy from the way she tilted her head, eyebrows raised. “No, it’s just...a bit of a bummer to think about work.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I feel like someone just threw a bucket of ice water in my face and screamed at me to wake up from a beautiful dream.”

“Well…” Bianca twirled her glass by the stem, then asked, “What if you didn’t have to wake up?

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do about your job, but...it just seems like it’s making you miserable, with no upside. And worse, it’s leaving you no time to pursue the things you actually care about, like music.”

“I know, but what choice do I have? I have to work.”

“Do you?” Bianca asked, a smirk on her face, and Courtney rolled her eyes.

“Well, yeah. How else will I pay for stuff?”

Bianca shrugged nonchalantly. “You know your rent just decreased dramatically.”

“I know, but it’s not just rent. There’s my phone and student loans and credit cards and legal bills and-”

“Angel…” Bianca pulled Courtney closer, into her lap. “If money is stressing you out, then I can help you with all of that. Actually, I’d be thrilled to help you, if it allows you to follow your dreams.”

“I’m not asking for your money, B,” Courtney said, looking away. Bianca had already given her so much, and now this? What could she possibly offer in return?

“I know.” Bianca took her chin and turned her face back gently, looking into her eyes. “I know you’re not, but I’m offering. There’s a big difference.”

Courtney bit her lip, eyes falling closed as Bianca kissed up her jaw. Was this really happening? Was Bianca really offering her such an easy out to all of her problems? What was the catch? Courtney felt her throat tighten, tears pricking at her eyes.

“Let me take care of you, angel…” she whispered, and Courtney sighed against her.

“You don’t know how badly I want to say yes,” Courtney whispered back. And it was true, she did. She’d always been independent--in fact, she’d prided herself on it, and so had her parents. Even before she left home to study in America, she’d been self-sufficient. In a way, it felt like a cop-out to accept so much help from Bianca. But Courtney was tired, so very tired, of everything being hard all the time.

“Then say yes. Or at least, say you’ll think about it. You don’t have to decide tonight.”

For a few moments, Courtney gazed at her, too overwhelmed to speak.

“What?”

“Um...you just…” Courtney couldn’t say what she wanted to say, which was that Bianca was every single one of her dreams coming true. That she was sheer perfection. So instead, she said, “You just...look really cute tonight.”

A grin broke out on Bianca’s face as she asked, “Oh yeah? You approve?”

Courtney nodded. She very, very much approved. Bianca was wearing a vivid tangerine-colored dress, the color something she herself would have loved to wear (although she had to admit, it looked so good against Bianca’s skin that she’d probably hesitate to ever wear it again), and everything, even her accessories, were bright and fun and joyful. She was so beautiful, thinking about it made Courtney feel choked up once again.

“I...I don’t deserve you,” Courtney finally said, as a tear slipped down her cheek.

“You deserve the world,” Bianca told her earnestly. She leaned forward and pressed a soft, tender kiss to Courtney’s lips before moving to her cheeks, kissing away her tears.

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Text

Physical Fatality Part 12- Grief

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

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Over the course of your relationship Hawks has seen you pissed off quite a bit. He’s seen you mildly annoyed, he’s seen you decently irritated, and he’s seen you practically rabid with rage. He is intimately familiar with the spectrum of your anger.

And yet all of those times combined cannot compare to the level of rage he sees in you now.

Red Riot, who Hawks now realizes must have arrived with you, rushes to Bakugo’s side to check on him. Only once you’re positive Hawks and Bakugo won’t lunge at each other again do you unceremoniously drop Hawks to the ground. “What the fuck is your problem?” you demand as you storm over to him. “Look I’m sorry but-“ he starts but you don’t let him finish. “There shouldn’t be a ‘but’ in that sentence Hawks why the fuck are you fighting Bakugo of all people? You could’ve killed him!” “Technically he could’ve killed me too, let’s not make him sound helpless.” “That is NOT the point Hawks.” “Right yea no, of course it isn’t. Look I’m sorry things got out of hand but-” “Out of hand? OUT OF HAND? Your lack of self awareness is genuinely fucking phenomenal my GOD.” “Christ will you fucking listen to me instead of cutting me off every fucking time I try to speak?” “You don’t get to make demands right now! You know all this shit reflects back on me!” “Right your precious fucking reputation.” “Yes! My job relies on it remember!” “Could you forget about All Might and the press and whatever else for one goddamn minute? Our relationship is fucking drowning in it!” “What fucking relationship? I don’t even know what the fuck this is anymore.” “What are you on about now?” “We’re not lovers Hawks! We’re just strangers with the same damn hunger to be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all and it’s gotten genuinely pathetic now.” “Pathetic?” “Yes pathetic! Because clearly we aren’t supposed to be together!” “Says who?” “Look around you Hawks! Apparently fucking everyone and everything!”

Your words seem to echo around the two of you, both of your chests heaving in the wake of the argument. Both of you had forgotten yourselves for a moment and as awareness creeps back in you suddenly can feel the eyes of every reporter and civilian in the area boring into you. “What are you saying (y/n)?” Hawks asks and his voice is heartbreakingly quiet, hands clenched into fists. “I’m saying this is done,” you reply. “Don’t do this, please, I love you and-“ “No you don’t Hawks. You might think you do but you don’t. We love love and the idea of it and for fleeting moments between the arguments and the press and our bosses and everything else we thought we had it but we don’t. Or at least it’s not strong enough to out weigh everything else. I’m sorry,” you sigh before turning away. Cameras flash and reporters shout questions but you ignore them all as you walk over to where Kirishima is helping Bakugo up off the ground. “(Y/n)-“ Bakugo starts to say but you cut him off. “Don’t. I’ll deal with you after we get you patched up,” you tell him before you and Kirishima start walking him back to your agency.

Hawks stares after you, feeling frozen in place as you leave him behind and take his shattered heart with you. “Told you so,” Monoma suddenly taunts from beside him. Hawks jumps, having not noticed when Monoma had come down from the building’s rooftop. Hawks whirls around to face him, grabbing hold of the collar of his shirt. “Ah, ah, ah, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?” Monoma asks cheekily, jerking his head towards the still flashing cameras. Hawks’ grip tightens momentarily before releasing the other man. Unfortunately Monoma has a point and Hawks really isn’t eager to make things even harder for you. “Don’t worry bird boy, I’ll invite you to our wedding,” Monoma tells the other man before flouncing away, pleased with himself. Hawks tells himself the best he can do now is wait for you to calm down and talk to you then so without another word and before he can do anything else to worsen the situation, he takes off back to Endeavor’s agency and hopes the others from the task force will have good news to share.

The first words he hears when he walks into the meeting room on the top floor are “You’re a fucking idiot” from none other than Shoto Todoroki himself. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” Hawks sighs. “You’re the only one. Pretty much every gossip blog and news outlet ever is talking about it,” Tokoyami tells him. “Headlines are all about how (y/n) is rubbing off on you in the worst possible ways and speculating about your break up,” Midoriya adds in, an unspoken accusation buried beneath his faux neutral tone. “We didn’t break up, she’s just upset,” Hawks denies, desperate to be right. “Really? Looked like a break up to me and the thousands of people who’ve already read the articles and the few dozen people that watched this whole train wreck you started,” Shoto quips. “Can we please just focus on the mission? Please tell me you got good intel,” Hawks sighs. “Since some of us are capable of doing our job, yes. Luckily for you the terror group is in the building we were watching and since you and Kacchan drew so much attention to the other building they think we’re way off base in our search for them. We should be able to make a move by this weekend,” Midoriya informs him. “Great. What now?” Hawks replies. “Now we wait to move out and I go back to my agency to reassure my probably panicked best friend,” Midoriya bites out before handing the last of his operation notes to Shoto and storming out.

“Jesus, I thought Deku was a puppy,” Hawks remarks as the door slams closed. “Midoriya’s always been scary when he wants to be, he’s just also very genuinely kind,” Tokoyami shrugs. “Which is exactly why being on his bad side is a nightmare,” Shoto points out. “Thanks Shoto. Really making me feel better.” “I wasn’t trying to make you feel better. In fact you should feel bad.” “I’m gonna call her,” Hawks sighs as he pulls out his phone to dial your number. The first call rings for awhile before going to voicemail. So does the second. The third is sent straight to voicemail. The fourth doesn’t even go through as he’s promptly alerted his number has been blocked. Hawks swears and tosses his phone onto the table in frustration. “I must have really crossed the line,” he sighs. “You think?” Shoto asks with a raised eyebrow.

“For the record I threw the first punch,” Bakugo admits somewhat sheepishly as you dab at one of several cuts he sustained during the fight. “Unprovoked?” “Obviously not.” “Then it doesn’t change anything. And you’re not off the hook either, what the fuck were you thinking?” you question as you start bandaging him up. “I don’t know, Monoma was being a little shit which got Hawks all worked up and then I tried to get him to back down and we both got worked up and well... you know how that went,” he admits. He watches as your phone lights up again with Hawks’ contact info. You grab it, sending him to voicemail again before blocking his number and putting your phone back down. “Are you sure about breaking up with him?” Bakugo asks and you can tell by how uncharacteristically gentle his voice is that he’s concerned. “I.... don’t know. In a perfect world I’d love to take the time to unpack all of this bullshit and work it out with him. I already know I’ll miss him. I’ll miss the mornings with him laying in my bed and the thought of a forever him and me but I bet all he’ll miss is my body,” you confess. “Don’t you think you’re not giving him enough credit?” “Probably. But I can’t sit at home and be his housewife which means I have to focus on salvaging my career. I’m lucky All Might is out of the office, gives me time to try and think up a sales pitch.” “You’re a good hero (y/n). All Might knows that.” “He also knows he gave me an ultimatum,” you point out. You finish off bandaging Bakugo up and he looks as if he’s about to say something else but you resume talking before he can. “I’m going to head home and lie low. Hopefully I’ll still be employed next time you see me,” you sigh before giving Bakugo’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze and walking out.

The video of you and Hawks’ break up is already viral by the time you get back to your apartment.

You walk straight past the living room, completely ignoring your concerned roommates, and head right into your room. Your phone alerts you to several no doubt concerned texts from Midoriya but you ignore them all as you collapse onto your bed. You lie there for awhile, letting your phone ping almost incessantly with concern from your friends and all the news alerts mentioning your name. When your ringtone cuts through all the other alerts you almost ignore it, assuming it’s Midoriya calling to check on you. Your heart sinks when All Might’s name flashes on the screen instead. You take a deep breath, stubbornly ignoring the way it rattles in your chest, and then answer the phone. “(Y/n)....” All Might starts. “I know,” you answer. “We had a deal.” “I’m a good hero. You know I am.” “I know you are. But we had a deal. I’m sorry.”

Numb.

Achingly,

Heart wrenchingly,

World endingly,

Numb.

That’s how you feel as you listen to All Might continue to justify his decision without actually hearing a word he’s saying. You vaguely register apologies and talk of the agency’s reputation, but for the most part you’re too busy feeling your entire universe crashing down around you to pay much attention to his words. You don’t know how long it’s been when you finally register that he’s been calling your name. “(Y/n)! Are you alright?” All Might presses. You don’t answer. You hang up your phone, face still blank, as Denki and Mina appear in your doorway. They both look you over for a long moment before wordlessly climbing onto your bed to join you. They cuddle up on either side of you and only once you’re safely wrapped up in their arms do you finally allow yourself to break. You mourn the career you worked so hard for as sobs wrack through your body. Your chest and ribs burn with the force of it but the feeling is nothing compared to the bitter grief of losing your job. As your friends hold you, you utter only one heartbreaking phrase between sobs:

“What am I if not a hero?”

Author’s Note: 🥲 we’re getting close to the end game now everyone, and boy oh boy does it hurt

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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