#like my mom said all their lives they built up standards to live by
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Step By Step -Old Dogs and New Toys, Part Two.
Part One
Summary:
“That’s the problem!” Vi interjects, throwing up her hands. “Cait’s mom already thinks I’m this big, nasty burden on her daughter. If –if Cait has to get me the right clothes, and teach me how to dance, and eat, and talk, and drink, and everything, that’s only going to prove Mrs. Kiramann right. Plus, Cait’s up to her eyeballs in casework. I don’t want her to have to take extra time just to teach me the ropes. I just want to be able to show up, have everything down, and… and surprise her a little. And, well, you’re the only other person up here who doesn’t look at me like I just crawled out of a sewer grate–”
“I understand why you came to me,” Grayson assures her. “Can you make weekends work?”
“I’ll make it fit.”
or, alternatively, Grayson helps Vi prepare for the Snowdown Gala and lowkey-highkey adopts Vi.
Pairing(s): Grayson x Reader, implied Vi x Caitlyn.
Rating: G for fluff and worldbuilding.
Word count: 9.6k.
You’ve always said her precinct office is something of an archaeological exhibition.
She agrees, but she thinks it’s because of the elaborate, gilded gold and blue trim everywhere –around the door frames, the windows, along the baseboards and crown molding, even along the built-in shelves that boast a scant few personal touches that she’s added over the years (a few potted plants that seem to live off spite alone, books, a couple pictures of you and her over the decades, and a couple trophies from shooting competitions). It’s regalia at its finest; a shrine to Piltover’s abundance and the institutions funded by it.
You maintain, however, that it’s because of the countless coffee mugs, case files, and old newspapers with half-finished crosswords scattered everywhere. “It’s like walking through history,” you joked the first time she’d shown you her office –though that had been a cubicle, way back in the day, when she was just a Sergeant. “Judging by the number of coffee cups and how dark the stains are, I’m going to guess the last time you slept was some time last year.”
She’d laughed then, and she laughs thinking about the memory now.
Grayson’s never been the tidiest person; she’s not terrible, but keeping up with menial cleaning when she’s knee deep in bureaucratic headaches and attempted coups by the Undercity just takes too much energy most days.
She has an assistant, now that she’s Sheriff. Lana keeps track of memos and calls, schedules her meetings, and clears coffee cups and old newspapers from her desk without complaint. Still, even with Lana’s help, her office still happens to be something of a disaster zone. Such are the hazards of often being hip deep in any variety of figurative shit.
So, when Lana opens one of the double doors that separate her office from the outside vestibule and announces that Grayson has a visitor, only for Vi to walk in, Grayson’s momentarily grateful that her office doesn’t look too disastrous. She doesn’t peg Vi as the type to mind clutter, but still. Standards, and all that.
The gratitude, however, fritters away to guilt when she catches Vi openly grimacing at all the filigree and expensive accoutrement. Can’t say I blame her. Grayson swallows, then offers Lana a smile and thanks before her assistant closes the door. “It’s good to see you, Vi. How can I help you?”
Vi jams her hands in her pockets and rocks back on the heels of her worn boots. “I need a favor.”
Grayson pauses, then pretends to glance over some paperwork Lana had laid out on her desk that morning. “Is it your sister?”
“No. It’s me.” At Grayson’s wary glances, Vi holds up her hands in a reassuring gesture. “It’s not anything illegal. It’s that–” Vi snaps her fingers until the words come to her. “That snowfall party.”
Grayson blinks, then nods when she connects the dots. “The Snowdown Gala.” She sets the paperwork back on her desk, then checks her calendar. “That’s… at the start of next month.” Shit. That’s sooner than I thought. I need to make sure my tux still fits. “What about it?”
“I…” Vi swallows, throat flexing, then looks away. “I –I don’t know what to do for it.”
“...It can be a lot to take in,” Grayson agrees, trying to reassure her, when Vi doesn’t offer any additional information. She studies Vi for a moment, then leans forward and crosses her hands against her desk. “Not that I’m unwilling to help you, but I’m certain that Caitlyn would–”
“That’s the problem!” Vi interjects, throwing up her hands. “Cait’s mom already thinks I’m this big, nasty burden on her daughter. If –if Cait has to get me the right clothes, and teach me how to dance, and eat, and talk, and drink, and everything, that’s only going to prove Mrs. Kiramann right.”
Grayson grimaces, but says nothing. Unfortunately, she’s not wrong.
“Plus, Cait’s up to her eyeballs in casework,” Vi continues without waiting for Grayson’s prompting. “I don’t want her to have to take extra time just to teach me the ropes. I just want to be able to show up, have everything down, and… and surprise her a little.” She takes a moment to catch her breath, then continues explaining. “And, well, you’re the only other person up here who doesn’t look at me like I just crawled out of a sewer grate–”
“I understand why you came to me,” Grayson assures her. She leans back in her leather desk chair, considering. It could work, she reasons as she checks her mental calendar. There’s enough time for fittings and some dance lessons, provided it can wait for the weekend. “Can you make weekends work?”
“I’ll make it fit.”
Grayson nods and smiles. “Then my wife and I would be happy to help you.”
Vi’s eyebrows spike upwards. “You have a wife?”
“I do.” Grayson grins and gestures to the picture frames on the bookshelves, then grabs a pad of paper and writes down her address while Vi examines them. “We’ve been married for… oh, nearly thirty years now. And we’ve known each other closer to forty.”
“Damn.” Vi nods, approving, then offers Grayson a crooked grin. “You scored.”
She laughs. “That I did.” She tears off the piece of paper and holds it out to Vi. “We’ll start with dance lessons, that way you can practice during the coming weeks. That is my personal address, so I appreciate your discretion.”
Vi nods, expression solemn, and tucks the paper into the pocket of her red jacket. “What about suits and shit?”
“I’ll have to schedule an appointment for a fitting consultation,” Grayson says as she makes a note to do just that. “But I should have something booked by next week.”
“‘Consultation?’” Vi’s face scrunches up. “What, we can’t just… I don’t know, go and buy one?”
Grayson suppresses a smile. “It’s not that simple, no. Shall I see you around one, on Saturday?”
“Sure.” Vi nods, then turns and walks towards the doors. She stops halfway and turns around again. “Uh, Grayson?” When she raises her eyebrows in question, the younger woman ducks her head, then nods. “Thank you.”
Grayson smiles and nods in return. “It’s my pleasure.”
…
There’s a knock on the door at a quarter past one on Saturday.
Vi grimaces when Grayson opens the door. “Sorry for being late. Got turned around a couple times.”
“No apology necessary.” Grayson ushers Vi inside, then closes and locks the door behind her. “I’m sorry for not giving you better directions.”
Her apology goes completely over Vi’s head; the younger woman is too distracted by the inside of Grayson’s home. Vi pivots slowly, staring at the decor, plush furniture, and various paintings decorating the walls. “You live here?”
“For nearly forty years.” She only got this place to make a life with you, after all. Grayson motions for Vi to follow her, then starts walking deeper into the house once she’s got Vi’s attention. “We wanted something small.”
Vi lets out a quiet, shocked laugh behind her. “‘Small.’”
Grayson grimaces, having caught her faux pas too late. “Relatively speaking.”
You’re in the back of the house, narrowing down record choices. You look up when Grayson walks into the room, then smile warmly when Vi follows. “Oh, good. I was worried you got lost.” You set the small stack of vinyls down, walk towards the two of them, then hold out your hand and introduce yourself. “You must be Violet. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Vi returns the handshake with a wary smile. “Everyone just calls me ‘Vi.’ And I’m sure the Sheriff has a few opinions about me.”
“Nothing negative, I promise.” You glance at Grayson, then wink teasingly before looking back at Vi. “Maybe a little exhausted at times, but that’s probably the caffeine withdrawals talking.”
“There’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Grayson fires back with a smirk.
You laugh, then go back to your collection of records. “So, Vi, how much experience do you have with dancing?”
“Uh…”
You bite back a smile when Vi’s voice trails off, then put a few records back on the shelf. “We’re starting from scratch, then.”
Vi’s shoulders hunch up. “Sorry.”
“Oh, no, not at all!” You wave one hand, then pull a record out of its protective paper covering and place it on the gramophone. “It’s not a problem. We’ll just start with learning how to pick out rhythm in a song.”
Grayson peers over your shoulder. “Oh, ‘River’s Waltz.’ Good choice.”
“Well, I figured a waltz would be best,” you explain as you move the gramophone arm and set the needle in place. “They always play one at the gala, and it’s an easier dance to pick up.” You turn the gramophone on, then turn to Vi once the sound of melodious strings and horns starts flowing from the speaker. “Alright, so what you’re listening for is the beat of the song. That’s the measure you’ll use to pace yourself during the dance. All waltzes are in three-four time counts.” You start clapping your hands along to the beat to illustrate your point. “Each measure in music has four counts, but a three-four count only uses three beats, then leaves the fourth as a rest –so, one, two, three, rest. One, two, three, rest.”
Vi nods, head bobbing in time with your counts. “I can kinda feel it with how the music flows.”
“Good! Very good!” You motion for her to step into the space and have her stand next to you on the rug. “So, right now, we’re just going to get you familiar with feeling that beat. Can you feel the emphasis on the first beat of every measure?”
“A little.”
Grayson watches you for a moment with a soft smile. Such a natural.
But then, that’s why you’re the Professor and she’s the Sheriff.
She picks up a book and settles in her arm chair after a couple minutes. The last thing she wants to do is make Vi uncomfortable with her staring. (Though, if she happens to steal a glance every now and then and smile at your enthusiasm, or Vi’s earnest attempts, that’s between herself and her novel.)
…
By the time the day’s lesson concludes, Vi’s advanced from finding the rhythm of a song to practicing a simple waltz.
“You’re doing well,” you assure her when Vi seems discouraged. “You’re already good on your feet. Just keep practicing and you’ll have it down handily before the gala.”
“If you’re sure.”
“I am.” You pluck a record from your extensive collection, then hand it over to Vi. “This is the Snowflake Waltz. It was one of the most popular pieces written at the height of the jazz movement. It’s played every year at the Snowdown Gala as part of tradition. The steps we worked on today will work fine with the song.”
“Right.” Vi nods, looking somewhat shell shocked. She stares down at the record case, eyes wide, then swallows hard and nods again. “Right.”
“You’re going to be fine.” You place one hand on her shoulder and smile warmly. “Look, between the two of us, if Gray could learn how to dance, then you’ll be a master by the time of the gala.”
“Slander,” Grayson fires back with a grin. “I was more than adequate at the start.”
You glance at her, then back to Vi and shake your head before laughing. “You’ll be just fine. I promise.”
“If you say so.”
“You will,” Grayson agrees with a reassuring smile. She sets her book on the coffee table, then stands with a grunt. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the trolley.”
Vi blinks rapidly. “Oh –no, it’s fine. I can –thank you, but I–”
“It’s alright. Call it safety in numbers.”
Understanding settles over Vi’s features, followed by exhausted frustration. “Yeah. Thanks, uh, Sherriff.”
She chuckles as she heads towards the front door to grab her coat. “Grayson is fine, dear.”
…
The walk down to the trolley is brisk. Even with the sun still hanging in the cloudless sky, the late Autumn wind cuts through everything in its path.
Grayson winces when a particularly biting breeze tries to snake under the collar of her coat. “How is your sister?”
“She’s… coping,” Vi answers with a pained twist of her lips. Despite wearing significantly fewer layers, the younger woman seems practically unaffected by the chill; the gifts of youth, perhaps, or just standard Zaunite hardiness. “She’s gotten good marks at the Academy this term.”
“Good. Give her my congratulations.”
“Yeah –sure. Thanks.” Vi sidesteps a Piltovan man in a light gray suit that nearly bowls her over. She scowls and jams her hands in her pockets. “Asshole.”
Grayson glares over her shoulder at the man –not that he notices, since his back is to them both–then carefully places one hand on Vi’s shoulder. “And how are you?”
“I’m fine,” Vi answers quickly, automatically.
She doesn’t buy that, but a frigid stroll to the trolley is hardly the time or place to dig into one’s psychological well-being. Grayson files the topic away for later, then moves on. “I’ve scheduled an appointment for a tuxedo fitting this coming Saturday at nine in the morning.” She nearly gives Vi the address, then reconsiders. “Perhaps I could meet you at the trolley station around half past eight?” She watches as Vi tenses, chafing against the notion of having an escort (an Enforcer escort), then squeeze’s Vi’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I trust you. But you know how things are up here. I’d rather you not get in trouble over nothing.”
Vi scowls, nostrils flaring in irritation and disgust. “Yeah.” She glares at the ground for a few moments, then cracks her neck before asking. “Half past eight?”
“I think that would be best, yes.”
Vi works her jaw, then nods once. “Alright. Half past eight on Saturday it is.”
…
Progress Haberdashery is nestled into a towering, multi-story, sandstone behemoth in Piltover’s fashion district. Located on the first floor on the building’s front face, the window that boasts the shop’s name in elegant, swirling gold script seems like every other shop alongside it. If you aren’t looking for it, it’s easy to pass by.
Grayson knows the shop’s location by heart; she’s been a patron of the haberdashery for decades now, after all.
Agatha Wainwright is just as Grayson remembers her –short, stocky, with large, thick, round-rimmed glasses that give her an owlish appearance. Her short, steel-colored hair is neatly styled and smoothed down with pommade, and she has a measuring tape draped over the back of her neck and a pencil tucked behind one ear. She’s scribbling on a notepad, hunched over the desk behind the front counter when Grayson ushers Vi inside, but she lifts her head and turns around when the bell for the front door rings. “Grayson!” She perks up and smiles, then bustles out from behind the front counter.
Grayson grins easily, then accepts Agatha’s hearty handshake. “It’s been too long, old friend.” She glances over at Vi –who’s distracted, unsubtly gawping at the displayed suits, accessories, and photos–then gestures at the younger woman. “This is Vi. She’ll be needing a tux fitting today for the Snowdown Gala. Vi, this is Agatha Wainwright.”
Vi starts at the mention of her name, then recovers and shakes Agatha’s hand. “Hey. Uh, nice to meet you.”
The corner of Agatha’s mouth ticks up as she nods in return. “Glad to have you. Come on back with me.” She motions for Vi and Grayson to follow her, then turns on one heel and motors towards the back of the shop. “Remind me, Gray, the Snowdown Gala is considered black tie?”
“Technically black tie creative,” Grayson replies, lengthening her stride to keep up with Agatha’s quick clip.
“Oh, good.” She half turns, still walking, and gestures loosely at Vi. “I wasn’t liking black for her. That gives us options!”
“I, uh–” Vi pauses to clear her throat. “I thought the rule was ‘black looks good on everyone.’”
“Yes and no.” Agatha turns on the light for one of her fitting rooms, then ushers Vi and Grayson inside. “Yes, black is a neutral color, which means you can pair it with any other color and it won’t clash. Yes, a lot of people wear it because that means it won’t clash with your hair, or eyes, or accessories. It’s an easy color to style with. But when you get into the chromatic value system–”
Grayson smirks teasingly when Vi shoots her a slow, wide-eyed look. “You just had to get her started.”
“Fuck off,” Agatha fires back with a grin. She rolls her eyes when Grayson chuckles, then returns her attention to Vi. “In fashion, there’s a whole system of color theory that relates to a person’s skin tone. It focuses on what colors look most flattering with which skin tones and undertones. And it’s not just about hue, but also the boldness of the color. Some people can wear really bright, bold colors, and they look absolutely wonderful in them. Some people, on the other hand, either wash out or get all shadowy in the face when they wear bolder colors.” She gestures to her own face to demonstrate. “Especially around the mouth and eyes, which ages them. And black, even though it is a neutral color, is a bold color. So, for people with such skin tones, more muted shades of gray are often more flattering.” She clasps her hands together, waits until Vi nods (albeit uncertainly), then continues. “So, in your case, just at a glance–” she gestures up and down Vi “–my immediate instinct is that black would probably look harsh on you, and that a dark gray would likely suit you better. Although…” She leans back on her heels, puts her hands on her hips, then glances at Grayson. “You said she was from the Fissure?”
“I grew up in the Lanes, yeah,” Vi answers, somewhat curt.
Agatha purses her lips, then sighs. “Black might be better, then. It’s more traditional.”
Vi frowns, upper lip curling in confusion and frustration. “I thought you just said black wasn’t a good choice.”
“If we’re working strictly off what colors best flatter you, then no, probably not,” Agatha agrees. “But it’s the most traditional choice; even though it’s black tie creative, a lot of people are still going to be in black tuxedos. A lot of people are still going to expect others to wear black tuxedos.”
“It might help deflect unwanted criticism,” Grayson adds when Vi scowls. “Think of it as a precautionary measure.”
“Do you really believe that?” Vi arches one eyebrow, then shakes her head and laughs bitterly when both Grayson and Agatha hesitate. “Let’s be realistic. The color of my damn suit isn’t going to do shit. They’ll just find something else to gossip about.” She smirks, frustrated, then gestures at herself. “I mean, it’s not like they’re lacking for choices.”
Grayson remains silent. There’s not much else to say.
“The only person I care about in all of this is my girlfriend,” Vi continues, facing Agatha. “The only reason I’m doing any of this is for her. All I care about is looking good for her and making her feel like she’s the only woman in the room that matters. Fuck tradition, pick the colors that look best.”
Agatha smiles slowly and nods. “I can respect that.” She directs Vi to stand on a wooden podium surrounded by mirrors. “First, let’s get your measurements.”
…
It starts off simply enough.
Granted, measurements aren’t generally the hard part (relatively speaking). Vi holds still, cooperates, even chats amiably with Agatha.
“Got a lot of bulk in the shoulders,” Agatha comments while scribbling on a yellow notepad. “That’ll make taking in the waist… interesting.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Vi asks, glancing between Grayson and Agatha.
Agatha shrugs. “Does your girlfriend think it’s a bad thing?”
Grayson smothers a chuckle when Vi smirks. “It just means the tailoring will be a more involved process.”
“But I am a professional,” Agatha assures Vi as she crouches to measure Vi’s inseam. “And it won’t be the hardest job I’ve ever done. You have very nice lines, by the way. Have you considered modeling?”
Vi goes wide-eyed, then looks over at Grayson. “Uh…”
Grayson merely smiles and waves one hand.
And then there’s choosing between tuxedos.
“They look the same,” Vi says with a shrug when Agatha lays out five different, dark gray sets of tuxedos, slacks, and vests.
“It might be easier to see the difference when you have them on,” Agatha assures the younger woman.
Vi, in fact, does not see the difference.
“They still look the same,” she declares after trying on the fourth suit. “I mean, they look fine, but they’re all just gray, right? I don’t know, why not…” She twists, then points at a mannequin dressed in a pinstripe gray suit. “Why not something like that? The stripes look cool.”
“Oh.” Agatha looks at the mannequin, then back at Vi. “Well, we can look at something with a faint pinstripe, if you want, but that particular one is a suit, not a tuxedo.”
Vi blinks, expression blank. “...Aren’t they the same thing?”
Agatha blinks, then turns on one heel and picks up the fifth tux. “I’m going to pretend she didn’t say that.”
“Don’t torture the poor kid,” Grayson admonishes the seamstress when Vi shoots her a panicked look. “The easiest difference to spot is the cut of the lapels. You see here, how the buttons come up higher?” She gestures to the suit on the mannequin and waits until Vi nods. “Now, look at what you’re wearing.” She traces the line of the left lapel with one finger. “This section is larger and angled differently from a standard suit, see?”
“There’s also a difference in the fabric,” Agatha adds as she takes the fifth option out of its protective plastic covering. “The lapels and pocket trim are made from satin, and the buttons are covered in satin as well.”
“And that… matters?” Vi asks, face scrunching up in confusion. She glances between Grayson and Agatha when the two older women nod, then sighs heavily and sets her shoulders resolutely. “Alright.”
Vi opts to let Grayson and Agatha pick the most flattering tuxedo (in terms of color, since Vi’s take is that all the tuxedos are “gray”). “Sweet.” Vi starts to shrug the tuxedo jacket off. “Is that it?”
“Uh–” Agatha goes a little wide-eyed and gets the jacket back on Vi’s shoulders. “Not quite. We need to do some pinning for alterations.”
Vi frowns, confused, and glances between her own reflection and Agatha. “It looks fine, I promise.”
“It will look much better tailored to you,” Grayson interjects. “Trust me.”
Vi sighs again, then straightens up and lifts her chin. “Okay.”
And then, part way through deciding what alterations need to be made, Agatha has a realization. “Ooh, it’s black tie creative! We can play with color!” She looks up from Vi where she’s adjusting the length of the slacks. “What color dress is your girlfriend wearing?”
“Uh…” Vi looks towards the ceiling, then shrugs. “I think she said blue?”
“...Okay.” Agatha waves one hand. “Powder blue? Royal blue? Progress blue?”
“...There’s a difference?”
“We’ll have a color sample the next time we come in,” Grayson interjects when Agatha pinches the bridge of her nose.
Eventually, the two of them leave in one piece, but Vi looks almost haggard.
Grayson takes one look at the younger woman, then smiles sympathetically and clasps Vi’s shoulder with one hand. “Would you like to get something to eat? It’d be my treat.”
Vi balks. “I wouldn’t have the money to pay you back, most likely.”
The response activates her mind’s eye; it’s a dim, but still visible memory of one of the first times she asked you out for coffee. She hums and slows her pace as she reflects. “You know, my wife said something similar to me the first time I asked her out for coffee.”
Vi glances up at Grayson –then, the penny drops and she does a double-take. “Is she from Zaun?”
“Yes,” Grayson says with a nod. “Her family lived on the Entresol level.” She stops and squeezes Vi’s shoulder. “I should clarify: I would like to spend some time with you outside of the fitting. That’s why I offered up lunch. If you’d rather not, you won’t hurt my feelings by saying so.”
Vi nods slowly, looking away while she mulls it over. After a bit, she looks back at Grayson and raises one eyebrow. “Nowhere too fancy?”
Grayson chuckles and grins. “I think I know a place you’ll like just fine.”
…
She takes the Vi out to the fringes of Piltover, where the City of Progress starts to blend into the Promenade levels of Zaun. Things aren’t near as modernized out here. The buildings are smaller, more humble establishments made out of white-washed bricks and granite. The roofs are still blue, but the edges and various trimmings aren’t capped in gold. The roads are rougher, not quite so neatly tended to as in the city’s main districts.
She takes Vi through a marketplace, stopping as Vi gets distracted to tell the young woman about what the various stalls boast. She buys a bag of dried mango for them to share, then guides Vi down a side street to a shop where the front door is painted green.
Cheriqui’s has been around since her parents were children. She can still remember her grandmother and mother bringing her here for traditional tea services and Farsi practice on Saturday afternoons.
Grayson inhales deeply as she sets foot inside the deli. She’s greeted by a veritable perfume of spices –saffron, cumin, garlic, ginger, cloves. She’s carried back to memories of home –of her family working in the kitchen–and she smiles.
“Wow.” Vi gawks, staring at the deli case of breads and pastries, the bins of bulk spices along the wall next to the deli case, and the shelves of various foreign goods not typically found at “traditional” Piltovan markets. She rolls up on the balls of her feet, then lets out a low whistle at the sight of meat roasting on vertical spits and the grills in the kitchen behind the deli case. “Damn.”
Grayson ushers her towards the deli case. “How’s your tolerance for spicy food?”
Vi shrugs. “Everyone blasts their food with hot sauce in the Lanes. It’s the only way it tastes like anything.”
Grayson nods, then straightens up when a portly man with tan skin and a thick, silvering mustache approaches the deli case.
“Grayson.” The man raises one bushy eyebrow teasingly. “And here I’d thought you’d forgotten us.”
“I’d be hard pressed to forget you and your family, Abdul,” she replies, slipping into easy Farsi. She introduces Vi and Abdul to one another, then returns her focus to Abdul. “We’re here for lunch. This is Vi’s first time trying Persian cuisine.”
Abdul nods, expression lifting in understanding before settling into serious contemplation. “How’s her tolerance for heat?”
“She says it’s good.”
Abdul shoots a wayward glance at Vi, clearly skeptical, then holds up one finger before bustling back into the kitchen. He returns a few moments later and sets a tray with little cups of soup and a plate with small pieces of meat and bread atop the deli case. “Try first,” he explains to Vi in heavily accented English, “and decide how well you tolerate it, okay?”
“Right.” Vi stares at the tray, then looks over at Grayson. “What am I working with here?”
“It’s traditional Persian food,” Grayson explains, gesturing to the tray. “It’s a bit of a melting pot; many countries fall into the fold of Persian culture, so there are many regional cuisines. These–” she gestures to two of the soup cups “–are adasi, or lentil soups. The yellow one is milder, and the red one will be spicier. This one–” she gestures to the third cup “–is aush, or a thick noodle soup.” She switches her attention to Abdul. “What’s today’s recipe?”
“Chicken and barley noodles with seasonal vegetables.”
“It’s good.” Vi nods along, already halfway through the cup of yellow adasi. “What’s the meat on the plate?”
“Lamb,” Grayson answers after checking with Abdul. “But they have goat and chicken as well, if you prefer.”
“Oh, I’m not picky.” Vi lifts the sample dish of red adasi and smiles at Abdul. “This is good!”
Abdul beams, then nods his head in appreciation. “Thank you.”
There’s a commotion in the kitchen –the sound of quiet chatter, followed by dishware clacking. Then, footsteps approach. One of Abdul’s sons-in-law, Badir, appears with a small dish of shawarma style chicken. He places the dish atop the deli case, on the tray with the other samples. “She should try shawarma.”
“One moment!” A few seconds later, Badir’s wife –a short woman named Shohreh—jogs out of the kitchen with a small plate of pickled and fresh vegetables. “You forgot the toppings, silly,” she admonishes her husband. She rolls onto the balls of her feet to set the plate on the crowded tray, then smiles at Vi. “You take the bread,” she explains in English, holding up her hand as an example, “and then you add the meat, and then the vegetables. There’s pickled onion and cucumber, sauteed spinach, and tomatoes.”
Vi nods along as she follows the instructions, then folds the flatbread around the meat and vegetables and crams a decent bite into her mouth. She chews, and then her eyes roll back in her head. She lets out a pleased groan. “Oh man.” She holds the back of her hand over her mouth, then continues once she’s swallowed. “I could eat this every day.”
Grayson finds herself smiling along when Abdul, Shohreh, and Badir all grin.
There’s more noise from the kitchen –and then Abdul’s youngest, a son named Hashem, pokes his head around the corner. “Do you want to try a goat eye?”
“For shame!” Shohreh hisses and swats at her younger brother while scolding him in Farsi. “Don’t gross her out. Have some sense!”
“Wait, like, actual goat eyes?” Vi’s eyebrows spike towards her hairline. She looks at Grayson. “They have those?”
“The practice is to use the whole animal –or as much as possible, at least,” Grayson explains. “So, when you have the head, you can roast it whole, then break it down afterwards. Jowl meat, tongue, and the brains are all fair game. The eyes are edible, but they’re not necessarily… common ingredients, as it were.”
“Huh.” Vi mulls it over, then nods and turns back to the counter. “Yeah, sure.”
Abdul, Badir, Shohreh, and Hashem all freeze.
Abdul recovers first; he blinks rapidly, then frowns cautiously. “Are –are you sure?”
Vi shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”
Hashem laughs and sticks his tongue out at his sister, only to get shooed and berated back into the kitchen. He returns a couple moments later, though, with a roasted, cloudy, glistening eye and still attached, cooked through ocular muscles on a small plate.
“It should have a meaty flavor,” Grayson says as Vi gives the eye a once over.
“Yeah, it's the same with fish,” Vi reasons. “Tastes like what it came from.” And, with that, she plucks the eye up with her fingers and pops it into her mouth. She chews, nods, and grunts with approval. “‘S pretty good!”
Grayson chuckles, then shares a shrug with a slightly stunned Abdul.
…
They wind up in the corner of the deli, sitting at a table clad in a fine, white linen tablecloth.
They start with some yellow lentil aush, taftun bread, finely sliced lamb seasoned with spices, and a side plate of fresh and pickled vegetables. Then, Badir comes out with shawarma style chicken and a small dish of borani for Vi to try. Another family member follows a few moments later with a dish of savory saffron rice. A few minutes later, Shohreh comes out with two cups of fragrant mint tea.
“You’re going to have to roll me out of here,” Vi jokes. She follows Grayson’s lead, loading up a piece of taftun with some shawarma chicken, greens, and borani as a sauce, then folds the bread around her fillings of choice and bites down. She groans, nods, then chews and swallows before saying, “Janna, this is fucking good. I gotta tell Cait about this place.”
Grayson swallows, then chuckles. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I’d eat this for the rest of my life, if I could,” Vi says, unabashedly earnest. She takes a sip of her tea, then asks, “You’ve brought your wife here, yeah?”
“Many times,” Grayson answers with a nod. “She met my mother and grandmother here, and we’ve been here on several dates.”
“Oh, shit.” Vi glances at the reversed lettering on the front window, then frowns, confused. “Is this your family’s place?”
“No, no.” Grayson waves one hand dismissively. “No, the Cheriquis are just old family friends. My mother and her mother used to bring me here for tea and lessons in Farsi every week –to keep me connected with our culture.”
“Oh, okay.” Vi nods, mulling the information over. Then, she laughs and smirks. “Did your lady ever take you to Jericho’s?”
Grayson laughs and nods. “That she did.” She leans back in her seat and shakes her head. “It was… quite illuminating.”
“I bet,” Vi laughs. “Did you get sick after?”
“Like a dog,” Grayson answers with a grin.
Vi cackles and shakes her head. “I bet. You gotta grow up with that shit, or it just goes right through you.”
“You aren’t kidding.” Grayson smirks ruefully, then shakes her head when Vi laughs again. “She took good care of me while I was sick. And it was a good experience, in sum. It was… eye-opening.”
“Yeah.” Vi leans back in her seat. She watches Grayson for a long moment, drumming her fingers against her thigh, then asks, “Was that your first time in the Lanes?”
“It was,” Grayson answers with a nod. This was bound to come up eventually. “It was my first time in Zaun, actually. I’d only been on patrol in the Piltovan shopping district before then.”
Vi’s jaw tightens. “Why’d you become an Enforcer?”
The venom dripping from the word “Enforcer” is palpable, but Grayson keeps her expression neutral. “To be honest, it was a way out.” She shifts her gaze to look out the window, towards the shoppers passing the deli by. “My family…” She grimaces, then lets out a tired laugh. “They were planning on having me marry well. Do all the things that daughters traditionally do.” She looks down at the table, gaze scanning the fine texture of the tablecloth. “My father hadn’t come around by the time I was eighteen, so I enrolled in the law enforcement academy.”
“...Did your father disown you?”
“No. However, things weren’t exactly happy for a long time.”
Vi nods, expression solemn. “Did you get what you wanted, in the end?”
“I did.” Grayson nods and smiles. “I met my wife, married her, had a life with her, a career… I don’t think I could ask for more.”
“So, your dad came around?”
She shrugs and chuckles faintly. “More like my mother put her foot down.” She grimaces, then sighs. “I don’t think their marriage ever really recovered.”
“Shit.” Vi shifts in her seat. “Sorry.”
“It’s old history,” Grayson assures her with a wave of her hand. She sits forward in her seat and starts filling her plate with rice and lamb. “And, once I was old enough to know better, I stopped worrying about what my father thought.” She meets Vi’s gaze and smiles ruefully. “Some people just aren’t worth the stress.”
Vi shrugs, then loads another piece of taftun with chicken and lamb. “What’d your mom think of your wife?”
“Oh, she adored her,” Grayson replies without hesitation. “I think my mother liked her more than she liked me.”
Vi laughs, but it trails off into a strained sigh. She spoons more borani onto her plate, then mutters, “I don’t think I’ll ever have that problem with Cait’s mom.”
Grayson goes still. She considers for a moment, then reaches across the table and places one hand over Vi’s. “For what it’s worth…” She waits until Vi looks at her, then smiles reassuringly. “Her father likes you.”
Vi’s face scrunches up. “How would you know?”
“Word gets around. Official functions, that sort of thing. And everyone on the council is a massive gossip.” She retracts her hand, but when Vi’s despondent, disbelieving expression doesn’t lift, she adds, “Besides, it’s clear that Caitlyn adores you.”
Vi’s face goes as pink as her hair. She ducks her head briefly, then grins, crooked and bright. “Yeah. Cupcake’s really something.”
‘Cupcake?’ She quickly bites back a grin, but still makes a mental note to tell you about it later. That is precious–
“How is everything?”
Grayson looks up, then bites back an amused smirk when she sees Abdul approaching the table with yet another plate in hand.
“It’s amazing,” Vi gushes. “At this rate, I might just move in.” She takes note of the plate, then leans forward and cranes her neck. “What’s that?”
“Goat kebabs.” Abdul lowers the plate so Vi can see. “Would you like to–”
Vi nods and starts moving plates and bowls to make room on the table. “Bring it on!”
Grayson helps make space, then waves to Abdul as he heads back to the counter. “Alright, so there’s an easy way to get the meat and vegetables off the skewer. Hold the kebab on one end–” She picks one up to demonstrate. “And then you take your fork and push from the base so everything falls on your plate.”
“Right.” Vi mimics her, then stabs a piece of meat and grilled squash with her fork before shoving the food into her mouth. She lets out a satisfied sigh and slumps back in her seat.
Grayson grins. “Good?” She chuckles when Vi lets out an enthusiastic groan, then adds some pickled vegetables and onions to her plate.
“I hope your wife knows you’re here, Grayson.”
Grayson turns in her seat, then smiles when she sees a squat, white haired woman clad in a flowing skirt and royal blue blouse with gold embroidery shuffling over to their table. “Aunt Roshie.” She stands, steps around the end of the table, and greets the elderly woman with a kiss on each cheek. “It’s so good to see you. How are you?”
Despite being nearly ninety, Roshanak Cheriqui’s dark eyes are still clear and bright. “It’s good to see you, too, kid. And I’d be a hell of a lot better if people stopped asking me how I am. It’s the only thing anyone asks you when you’re my age! It’s boring!”
Grayson chuckles, then turns and gestures to Vi. “This is Vi. I was helping her with a tux fitting for the Snowdown Gala today, and I thought it’d be nice to bring her here for lunch. Vi,” she says, switching to English, “this is Roshanak Cheriqui. She opened this place with her husband.”
Vi glances between them, then blinks a few times before standing. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Cheriqui,” she says, holding out one hand.
Roshanak shakes Vi’s hand, but scoffs all the same. “Everyone knows me as Aunt Roshie,” she insists in heavily accented English. She clasps Vi’s hand and pats the back of it warmly. “You are enjoying lunch, yes?”
“Oh –it’s amazing,” Vi confirms with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “Everything tastes incredible.”
Roshanak beams, eyes crinkling around the corners. “Good!” Then, she glances at Grayson before leaning towards Vi and smiling conspiratorially. “You know, I have known Grayson since she was this big.” She gestures to her knee. “She used to come here every Saturday with Mahshid and Nasrin for our traditional tea service.”
“Yeah.” Vi nods. “She told me about that.”
“Did she tell you that she hated the dresses her mother made her wear?”
Grayson sighs and places one hand on the back of her chair to steady herself. “Aunt Roshie, I don’t think we need to–”
“One time,” Roshanak continues, undeterred, “when she was three, Grayson decided that she had enough–”
“I don’t think Vi needs to–”
“–and she got halfway out of her dress at the table before her mother stopped her.”
Vi presses her lips together and nods, though she can’t quite stop the slight snort that escapes her.
“You didn’t stop there, either.” Roshanak grins, entirely amused, up at Grayson. “Once you were older, you kept trying to sneak your tights off and get rid of them in the bathroom trash.”
Grayson sighs, resigned, and grumbles under her breath in Farsi, “They were itchy and terrible.”
“So you kept saying.” Roshanak winks at Vi, then faces Grayson. “What is it about my deli that turned you into a stripper?”
Grayson stares down at the elderly woman (who looks like the cat that caught the canary). She can feel her eyes bugging out; if you were here, she knows you’d be falling over in gleeful laughter.
Vi, to her credit, is far better versed in stoicism. She coughs quickly and presses the back of her hand over her mouth. Her shoulders and chest jump in jerky movements, but otherwise she stays composed.
Apparently satisfied with the carnage she’s wrought, Roshanak turns back to Vi. “You come back anytime you want, okay?” Once Vi nods and promises that she’ll return, Roshanak turns to Grayson and pats her arm. “As for you, bring your wife here, soon. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her.”
Grayson briefly clasps the elderly woman’s shoulder as Roshanak starts to shuffle off. “Yes, Aunt Roshie.”
“And keep your clothes on!”
Grayson closes her eyes, inhales deeply, then lets out a ragged sigh. Decades of service to the city and devotion to my wife, but that’s going to be my legacy, isn’t it? She opens her eyes, then points at a red-faced, silently snickering Vi. “Not one word.”
Vi holds up her hands in a placating gesture, then sits when Grayson does. She giggles a little, takes a long drink of mint tea, then asks, “So… Butch from the start?”
“Decidedly.” Grayson shakes her head, then drinks some tea to soothe herself. “You couldn’t move in those damn dresses. I would’ve given my left eye for a pair of trousers.” She takes another sip of tea, then adds, “I cut my own hair when I was ten.”
“No shit.” Vi cocks her head to one side, like she’s trying to envision it. “Was it long?”
“It was down to my fucking ass. It took ages to brush and braid! It was completely impractical!”
“So, you just–” Vi mimes a pair of scissors with her fingers “–had at it?”
She nods. “I took my mother’s sewing scissors, snuck into the upstairs bathroom, and started cutting everything until it was above my ears.”
“Oh, I bet that looked great,” Vi teases with a grin.
“It looked terrible,” Grayson admits with a laugh. “I think I made my mother cry. She loved styling my hair when I was a young girl.”
Vi nods, then smirks. “I tried my first side shave when I was thirteen.”
“Oh, really? How’d that go?”
Vi laughs and shakes her head. “Well, I didn’t know to cut the part I wanted shaved first–”
“Uh-oh,” Grayson interjects with a grin.
“Yeah. And, to make things worse, the clippers I were using were real fucking old, so they kept dying, like, every five minutes!”
Grayson chuckles. “Oh, great.”
Vi snorts, then shakes her head. “Vander caught me halfway through. The entire left side of my head looked like it’d gotten caught in a blender, the sink was full of hair–” She cuts herself off with a laugh. “Vander helped me finish the job, in the end. It didn’t look half bad.”
Grayson nods and chuckles. Then, she lifts her cup and holds it towards Vi. “To unconventional style choices.”
Vi grins, then lifts her cup and lightly taps it against Grayson’s.
…
They finish lunch with saffron ice cream and bamie –deep fried dough soaked in sugar syrup. Once they’re done eating, Grayson leaves a semi-comatose Vi at the table and heads to the deli case to pay the tab.
“No, no.” Abdul holds up one hand and shakes his head. “I’m not going to charge you for what we brought out to you of our own accord. It’s dishonest business.”
“I appreciate the sentiment,” she argues back in Farsi, “but we nearly ate the whole menu. It’s not reasonable–”
“As the person in charge of the business, I think I get to decide what’s reasonable.”
Grayson levels him with a flat look. “We both know that your wife decides what’s reasonable. If she didn’t, you’d still have those ridiculous sideburns.”
“They were perfectly stylish! Besides, Esther isn’t here, so that leaves me.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that leaves your daughter.”
“Well, she isn’t part of this conversation.”
Grayson raises one eyebrow, then leans to the side so she can see into the kitchen. “Shohreh!” she shouts. “Come talk some sense into your father!”
“What?” Shohreh’s voice echoes out of the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” Abdul shouts back. “Ignore this poor, senile old woman.” He grins when Grayson glares playfully at him. “She has dementia! She’s imagining things!”
“I’m not imagining those ugly-ass loafers you promised Esther you’d get rid of.”
Abdul purses his lips together, then shuffles closer to the deli case to better block any view of his feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She smirks. “If you don’t want your wife to know what I’m talking about, let me pay the tab.”
Abdul places one hand over his heart and feigns a gasp. “Blackmail? From the Sheriff?”
“If we’re talking misconduct, what you’re doing could technically be construed as a bribe–”
“Oh, enough, both of you.” Roshanak shuffles to the front and fixes both of them with a stern, matronly glare. “I could hear you two from the pantry. Aren’t you two too old to be bickering like children?”
“Sorry, mama.”
“Sorry, Aunt Roshie.”
Roshanak purses her thin lips as she looks between the two of them –apparently none too satisfied with their unrepentant expressions–then scoffs and waves one hand. “Brats, the both of you. And as the co-founder of this establishment–” she turns her focus to Grayson alone “–I say our hospitality is ours to give.”
Grayson relents with a sigh (and makes a mental note to put what’s left of the tab in the tips jar Hashem has out for his Academy fund). “Alright. If that’s what you want.”
Roshanak nods, then sets a pale yellow, square box on the counter with the family name in dark green on the side. “And these are for your wife.”
Grayson peeks through the cellophane window on top of the box –more bamie and baklava–and smiles. “Thank you. She’ll enjoy these.” She considers, then says, “But I am paying for these.”
Roshanak shakes her head. “No–”
“She would want me to,” Grayson insists –because you would. She smiles when Roshanak relents with a sigh and a wave of her hand, then turns back to Abdul. “Now, what does this leave us at?”
…
She walks Vi back to the trolley, then takes a longer route home. It does a world of good –if only because she’s less likely to pass out on the couch from the sheer volume of food she ate for lunch.
You’re in the back of the house, where the two of you keep the bulk of your books and the record player. You’re curled up in your arm chair –a plush, quilted emerald green seat–with a book in your lap and a cup of tea on the end table between your chair and hers. You smile and look up when she walks in –then your jaw drops when you see the box tucked under her arm. “You went to Cheriquis?”
“I took Vi there for lunch,” Grayson defends herself. “She was a bit overwhelmed after the initial tux fitting –speaking of, don’t let me forget to sleuth out the color of Caitlyn’s dress; Agatha needs a swatch to work with.” She walks over to your chair, bends to give you a kiss, then holds out the box to you. “Aunt Roshie sent these home for you.”
“Oh, bless her.” You slide your thumbnail through the sticker holding the box shut, then lift the lid. You select a perfectly round bamie, bite through half of it, then close your eyes and let out a blissful groan. “I haven’t been to Cheriqui’s in forever and a day. And, if we’re on the topic of reminders, don’t let me forget to book a reservation there for my senior’s final’s study group.”
“I’ll do my best.” She sits in her chair with a muted groan. “How has your day been?”
You wave one hand dismissively. “Literally nothing has happened. I’ve been utterly unproductive.” You grin when she chuckles, then finish off your bamie before holding the box out to her.
Grayson holds up one hand to turn you down. “Gods, no. We practically ate the whole damn menu.”
“Oh.” You blink, then smile. “Oh. Was it Vi’s first time trying Persian food?” When she nods, you laugh lightly. “That was a dangerous admission to make. I nearly passed out the first time you took me to Cheriqui’s.”
“Vi was in a similar state to you when we left,” Grayson says. “But she enjoyed herself –and the family enjoyed her, too.”
“I can’t fathom how she wouldn’t. I’m glad they liked her, though!”
“I’ll say.” She smirks. “I think they were all impressed when she ate a goat’s eye.”
Your eyes widen, and your brows spike towards your hairline. “Yeah, that’d do it.” You laugh. “How’d she handle it?”
“Apparently, she’s familiar with fish head stew, so it didn’t faze her.”
You nod. “The food in the Lanes is definitely rustic.”
“You don’t say!” She grins when you laugh, then shakes her head. “She met Aunt Roshie, too –she wants you to stop by soon, by the way.”
“Oh, twist my arm. What did Roshie think of Vi?”
“I think she liked Vi –but I think she liked telling Vi stories about me trying to get out of my dresses and tights as a kid.” She pauses when you snicker, then sighs and adds in a resigned tone, “And she definitely liked asking me ‘what about her deli turns me into a stripper’ in front of Vi.”
You burst into delighted cackles and clap your hands together. You rock back in your chair –hard enough that your chair scoots back slightly. “She did not!”
“Oh, she did.” Grayson grimaces. “In English.”
“Oh, Janna!” You clutch at your sides as tears of mirth stream down your face. “Bless that woman. I absolutely adore Roshie.” You wipe your cheeks, then your eyes, all while giggling. “Oh, I wish I could’ve been there for that!”
She can’t help but smile, exasperation aside. “I don’t doubt it.”
Once you regain some coherency, you shift so you’re sitting properly in your chair once more and look at her. “How’d the fitting go?”
“It went alright. I think Vi was overwhelmed, though.”
“By Agatha, or by the process?”
“By the process.” Grayson drums her fingers against the arm of her chair. “I mean –I know how things were for you, at the start. You certainly know how they were for you.”
“I do,” you agree while nodding slowly. Your expression is grim, lips pressed into a tight line. “I also know that they don’t always get better on a bigger scale.”
“I know.” She sighs, weary, and folds her hands in her lap. And Vi doesn’t seem like the type to take the route of “blending in.”
The first few years of your relationship had been a brutal, rude awakening. Not just in seeing the destitution of Zaun for the first time –and being lightly hazed with what Jericho thought was passable as food–but realizing just how much Piltovans hated anyone from the Undercity.
You’d had to scrape and fight your way through university; she hadn’t witnessed it personally, but you’d told her horror stories about professors docking points because you didn’t have a surname to list on your assignments. Or marking you down during presentations because your accent was different. Or refusing to let you attend office hours without security present because they were “concerned” for their “wellbeing.”
She’d heard stories about you getting harassed at work by colleagues and bosses, only for human resources to do nothing. She’d witnessed the harassment once –one of your male coworkers had slapped you on the ass–and she’d had to go up the chain of directors and presidents as a Captain in the ranks of the Enforcers before any recourse was afforded.
She’d had extended family members sit her down for countless interventions when she’d proposed to you. They’d cited rampant crime and drug abuse in the Undercity, how you’d bring unbearable baggage with you, how your reputation and “status” would harm her career and ability to climb the ladder. Hell, she’d had ex-girlfriends come crawling out of the woodwork and try to interfere with your relationship, only to later find out that several meddling aunts had orchestrated the whole nightmare. She’d married you anyway –and sent them all notices in the mail that they were not invited to the wedding or reception.
People used to nearly walk over you in the streets. Men would catcall you, or call you a “bitch in lady’s clothing.” Women would whisper to their companions and laugh at you, regardless of whether you were in earshot or not. People would come up and talk to her without once addressing you, or even looking in your direction.
There was one glorious incident, shortly after she’d been promoted to Lieutenant, when she’d gotten a call from her patrolmen about a drunk and disorderly complaint. She’d shown up at a local shop, only to find you in cuffs –and utterly sober, no less.
She doesn’t remember much of what she said while dressing down her patrolmen. She’s heard, however, that she made one man throw up afterwards, just from sheer terror.
It’s not as bad as it used to be. The people who remember you as an Undercity hopeful aren’t really around anymore. You’ve got the right clothes, a respectable career, and several awards and accreditations in journalism under your belt. People know you as a professor now. As her wife.
Somehow, I don’t think Vi wants to be known just as Caitlyn Kiramman’s wife, she thinks to herself.
“Gray.” You squeeze her hand. “Where’d you go?”
She inhales sharply as you drag her out of her reverie. “Nowhere, really.” She clears her throat. “I was thinking about how things were for you when we first got together. How… how hard it was.”
You smile reassuringly. “It wasn’t all bad. I had you.”
Grayson smiles back, then takes your hand in hers. “I’m flattered, but we both know it was terrible.” When you wince, but don’t say anything else, she continues. “I suppose I’m worried that Vi will have a harder time of it. You…” Her voice trails off, and then she grimaces. Shit. How do I say this without being insulting?
“I blended in better?” you surmise with an arched eyebrow and a smirk.
“I don’t see Vi adopting popular hairstyles or covering her tattoos,” Grayson allows in an attempt to be tactful. “Or attending university.”
“She shouldn’t have to,” you point out.
“I know,” she agrees. “I just…” She sighs, then squeezes your hand. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt powerless like this. I haven’t missed it.”
You coo softly and cock your head to one side. “You’ve become very fond of her.”
“She’s a good kid,” Grayson admits, emphatic. “She has a good heart. And I’d hoped this city had grown out of its prejudices over the past couple of decades, but…”
“But it hasn’t,” you finish, soft and sympathetic, when her voice trails off.
“But it hasn’t,” she echoes wearily. She rubs the bridge of her nose with her other hand. “I’m so tired of the fucking bureaucratic bullshit.”
“Easy, love.” You rub small circles against the back of her hand with your thumb. “Focus on what you can do, not what you can’t.”
I’m the Sheriff of Piltover. I should be able to do whatever I damn well like. She huffs, but sets aside the mental grousing for more productive lines of thinking. “I might get a new tux for the gala.”
You blink a few times, then frown. “...Okay?”
“Vi went with a charcoal colored tuxedo,” she explains. “In all due fairness, Agatha recommended it.”
“Ah.” Your confused expression settles into a small, melancholy smile. “A non-traditional color choice.”
“I think I’ll pick up something non-traditional, too. Just so Vi isn’t the single odd duck out.”
Your eyes crinkle around the corners as your smile grows. “That’s sweet of you. What color do you think you’ll get?”
She shrugs. “Maybe silver. It’d be a winter color, at least.”
“Ooh.” Your eyes light up. “You’d look good in silver. Very distinguished.”
She grins at you. “I’m glad you have your approval.”
You grin, then wink. “I bet you’ll look good out of it, too.”
Grayson laughs, heartfelt. Then, she leans over and kisses you.
#sass writes#grayson x reader#arcane grayson#grayson arcane#enforcer grayson#happy new year everybody!#finally a nice wholesome fic for the new year#odant#grayson lowkey highkey adopts vi as her gay butch baby#pls excuse the nebulous worldbuilding#i went with some middle eastern culture -iranian specficially#bc grayson's va is iranian#but a lot of the sources i used referenced persian food and culture#and i wasn't sure if there was a region in LoL that would square with the middle east let alone iran#so i used the term persian pls don't kill me#no smut in this one sorry lmao
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"Nobody's perfect" is such a common phrase, but depending on how it is used it can be very toxic.
I grew up in a very religious Mormon community with strict standards. For as long as I remember, I was told that people sin every day and so we have to repent of our sins every day as well. That's what "nobody's perfect" meant to them. Instead of the phrase being used to console or encourage, I mostly heard it as a way of passing judgement. "So-and-so is great, but nobody's perfect. They have plenty of shortcomings they should be working on as well." Many of my family, friends, and neighbors did everything they could to hide their own "sins" while looking down on others for whatever "sins" they must be committing, because everyone apparently sins every day.
And that's what I grew up believing. I thought I had to be perfect, because the goal was to get through the day sin free, or at least that's how I saw it. If I did everything I was told to do by my parents, teachers, and church leaders then I would be considered a good person, right? Actually, when I was a little older I learned that my unconscious thoughts were apparently full of sin as well! And my human desires were also sinful. And anything I did purely for myself was considered selfish. I remember being taught multiple times that there were good, better, and best uses of my time. Reading a book for fun was good, reading a book to learn and improve myself was better, and reading scriptures was best. So now I had to feel guilty for my unconscious thoughts I couldn't control, my body doing what it was built to do, and I had to feel guilty for having any fun or putting myself first.
As an adult I realized all of what I'd believed to be true my entire upbringing was bullshit. There is absolutely no way any person could avoid "sinning" if everything about me was considered wrong the way they made it sound. And because I wasn't perfect, because "nobody's perfect", I was made to feel like I had to make myself into as near a perfect being as I could manage in order to deserve even a morsel of acceptance or praise. But even that little bit of value I'd earned for myself wasn't worth anything because I would be reminded again and again that "nobody's perfect", meaning I'm not perfect, meaning I hadn't really earned anything in the end. All this made me feel like I was worthless and I couldn't do anything to change that.
Everything changed for me when I started learning about emotional abuse. My father was a diagnosed narcissist and he was very good at being emotionally abusive, so I had to learn how to deal with that. While I was reading about narcissistic abuse, I also realized that the religion I grew up in used the same tactics. I learned at church that everything about me was sinful. Literally. The list of sins in endless. I eventually realized that if you twist anything a certain way you can make it look like a sin, which then gives you a reason to look down on anyone who is committing that "sin." So no matter how "good" I was, I would never be good enough to anyone who was looking at me through the lens of "nobody is perfect because we are all sinners."
I remember sitting in church next to my mom one day when a woman who lived down the street was speaking. She was describing how she always felt like she wasn't good enough, she belittled herself and her accomplishments, put herself down, and made a public display of how guilty she felt and how that was why she was so humble and could feel closer to Christ. I looked at my mom and whispered, "It sounds like she's been emotionally abused." From the typical Mormon perspective, what this woman was expressing showed how humble she was. But now I could recognize that from another perspective what she said showed signs that she was a victim of emotional abuse.
Alan Watts said it better than I ever could: "Christianity institutionalized guilt as a virtue." I was taught to feel guilty even for just existing in order to make me feel indebted to God at church and my narcissistic father at home. Once I recognized how toxic that way of thinking was I couldn't bring myself to even pretend I was religious anymore. Now my way of thinking is more along the lines of, "Nobody is meant to be perfect, which is what makes everyone perfect in their own way." Instead of needing to be good enough, I'm learning to recognize the inherent value in everyone, including myself.
#coping with narcissistic abuse#religious abuse#emotional abuse#I can't really talk about this kind of stuff with people near me because they are mostly Mormon#They take huge offense and accuse me of being influenced by Satan and trying to lead people away from “the one true church”#Or they try to guilt me by saying how necessary I must be to the church and I need to pray about it and come back#So I hope it is okay that I put my thoughts into writing here#I felt like I needed to say it somewhere#also me liking anime (especially BL) is definitely considered a sin in their eyes and I already get enough dirty looks for that#plus I saw someone from my past today who definitely thinks I'm a screwup for not being married with multiple kids yet#as if that's something I'm doing wrong#I'm not even 30 yet
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Single
That is how I met Claire.
I had just finished my second run of the morning and as I slid up to the lift line, I called out "single?!" She raised her hand and that was the beginning of a long friendship. We skied together until about noon and she had to go, but she asked me to come to her parents condo for a party that night.
I arrived at the condo and knocked on the door. The man let me in and I asked about Claire. He called out her name and this beautiful Chinese girl walked up and said "Thanks Dad!" and then turned to me and said "Hi". I was stunned. You see, the whole time we were skiing I never did get to see her face as she had on big dark goggles and a mask over her face as it was windy and cold. She introduced me to her Dad. He was tall, thin and white. I then met her Mom, who also was tall, thin and white. In the course of the night, I found out she had been adopted as a baby and that all of the people that I met that night were kind of her "family".
Her parents were both engineers and were the leaders of a commune that was being started in New Mexico. They had been at it already for about 1 1/2 years and things were going well. We spent the rest of the weekend together skiing and at night I spent at the condo talking with her "family" and sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag next to her.
When I left to go home, her Mom and Dad invited me to come to their home in a couple of months and I spent those months planning my visit. My parents were Ok and since I was a Senior in High School, I had all my credits and classes pretty much done. When the time came, I was very excited. A half days drive and I was there. Claire greeted me like a long lost friend and her parents treated me like family. I didn't know what to expect about what to do or anything about a commune. But I was ready to learn.
There were a few homes already built. There was also a large commons building that others shared while their homes were being built. The commons building was 2 levels and had a dinning area and kitchen. The other areas were set aside as "living" areas for those in need and the business office. The detached homes were small and were the living areas for Claire and her parents in one home and in the other two were small families. These homes were for the founding members of the commune.
These were all hard working people and all had dedicated themselves to being at the commune. I was put in with those caring for the animals since I had experience working at the Vet's office and was planning to go to Vet School. I hatched chickens and birthed cows, horses and pigs. Now, not all of the people were vegie people. So the animals were for food and for a means to raise money to help obtain supplies that were needed to build or whatever. Some of the people were artists and sold their work, while others did some teaching. Since they had horses, they taught people to ride and had trail rides when the weather was nice. There were also musicians and a couple times a month, they would hold little concerts. All this to help get money. At no time did we go begging for money. Things were bought or traded.
There was a lot of nudity and some drug and alcohol use but it didn't seem to be abused. People just seemed to be very relaxed.
Claire and I became very close. We did hang out as much as possible. She was extremely smart and she would be considered a nerd by today's standards. We did sleep in the same bed and did explore each other, but full on intercourse did not happen. I think we were just too scared to go there. I learned a lot while there. I feel it was the time where I did the rest of my growing up.
Claire went on obtain several degrees. One in Education, another in Business, another in Art and one in Engineering. She now runs the commune as her parents are elderly. The commune has had people come and go. It is pretty much self contained with solar and wind power. It is more of a Art community and holds many types of seminars ranging from art and ecology to religion/spiritual and drug/alcohol abuse as well as human abuse and recovery. It is not a rehab, though some over the years have used it as such.
I have been back many times over the years and I am always treated as family or a long lost friend. Claire has some of my photos on the walls of her home as well as the common building. I have helped with the work needed about the grounds when I have visited. I have gone back and taught classes on CPR and First Aid. The Commune is open to the public and is not a secret to anyone who lives in the area. They get along very well with the general community. It is a very relaxed and loving/compassionate place to be.
It has been some time since I have been back there. Claire and I "talk" a few times a month. It is funny how a path in ones life is made. And it all started from one word..."Single?"
This first appeared on Xanga in 2013
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I'm watching the new GG and it's horrible but I still be watching. I am excited for the inclusion of a diverse cast, but I am also kinda concerned because as much as I honestly do want to see POC be rich and be assholes, there should be a point where they do talk about race. Even with the old GG, I wish they would've talked about race. There is a possible reality that Constance Billard was a predominantly white institution. There is a possibility that Nelly Yuki, Kati Farkas and Isabel Coates would have sadly faced forms of racism, even if it was mircoaggressions. Unless GG exists in a world where racism doesn't exist (I don't think this is true), then there is a possibility that some of the characters will face some form of being racialized. Their race will become apparent in some cases. I was excited to see Monet kinda hint at the possibility that the De Haan's still feel like they don't fit in. I honestly am really curious about Isabel Coates and what her life would have been like post CB, post BLM and going into adulthood. I know people hate making things about race, but there is a reality that we want to see consistently depicted. Maybe GG exists in a world where racism isn't apparent, and that's okay, but they would have to sorta explain that
anon i 100% am so glad u sent me this and i appreciate your ask. personally, i do think the issue kinda falls down on it being implied but not so much addressed. i think regarding monet’s talk w her mom, they are fully aware of racism they will experience as black members of predominantly white high societies that expect a sort of model minority standard to be respected. monet simply cannot get angry or emotional, hence she falls into the trope black women are often placed into as angry and erratic.
i think especially as a black girl watching, no matter ur wealth race just connects u especially in a setting like the us that has a complicated history w racism toward poc. i said in prev posts i see monet in myself the way i do ashley from fresh prince. in that show, which has an all black cast, race and it’s ties to black culture was always discussed and ashley played a part in it despite her wealth, bc at the end of the day she was a black girl and that cannot be separated from the attributes and experiences that make her her.
monet doesn’t really get much of this despite being a main character bc there’s so much focus on julien and zoya, who, despite being the only other black female mains don’t have race inferred at all, really. i see a similar issue w rue from euphoria, her race is never mentioned at all but being black as well as dealing w mental illness and drug addiction and not fitting the model minority in a family w a mom who has high expectations of her is bound to get to her. i have no idea what it’s like to be a biracial black girl, but i do notice when it comes to black female characters who are, their blackness is seen as sort of an afterthought??? it is just never addressed. and even w zoya and julien i find that strange bc when ur black in a predominantly white area like constance u just KNOW. lmao. u know. so it also pisses me off more when audrey is making classist comments on zoya when it’s incredibly possible her wealth could’ve been built of the backs of black ppl than when monet is. her only growth so far in my opinion is w makidrey and i get so annoyed seeing her belittle zoya covertly just bc all her friends are while claiming she doesn’t care abt the status quo (monet has to bc it’s her only way to further advance in a society that already expects so much of her for her race.)
i think that’s exactly why camille is so strict on monet—monet does not live up to that especially with her grades/bribery/scandals, whereas audrey and max simply do not have this pressure due to already being accepted for their race. they tend to be able to get away w a lot more than the poc in the group bc they were not raised to adhere to certain non-eurocentric cultural standards, they were raised to assimilate to preserve their cultures in high society. all characters like audrey/blair/serena know is high society w no negative racial connotation.
tldr: put black writers in the writers room and give the black actors more ability to add race into the context of their character and maybe we’ll get somewhere????
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Tagged by the one the only @thatbluelight
Writing questions tag game
What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?
Probably “Can I Break Down Your Walls?” as a whole story arc, all the crazy shit that happens and how each chapter added more to their relationship. It was the first time I felt really connected to an idea. Most of the beginning stages actually came to me in a dream so I could always go back to that.
What is your favorite part of being a writer? Which parts could you take or leave?
I love connecting with people and making them feel/process their emotions. I’ve definitely met ppl through it or at least communicated with them enough to know I’ve had a positive effect which is all I’ve ever wanted to do with my writing. I feel like it’s a roller coaster of a process to write, I’d probably leave behind the bouts of writer’s block or spells of no motivation, but still they’re a part of the journey.
What is your greatest motivation to write/create?
I first started writing to create the stories that I wanted to hear, to fill in the blanks of what wasn’t said or shown in the media I loved. Now I feel like write to further extend a safe space or give people the opportunity to escape reality.
What do you wish you knew when you first started out writing?
I wish I knew how therapeutic it would be. I’ve been writing since I was very young because I had nowhere else to express my emotions safely, but writing fanfiction now allows me to establish my own worlds around characters I connect with, get things off my chest through the scenarios I’ve built.
What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you like and can!
Probably “Purple hurts, but Blue stings worse”. I’m a sucker for a soul mate fic. This was probably the most thought out story I’ve written.
What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?
I had to did deep for this but
“This,” Becky starts dramatic as usual before Sasha can even ask, “is your pretty lesbian who’s gonna help you with your little problem” she offers like this is the end, the only choice, the standard for making Sasha’s experience one to remember.”
Really any time characters are being extra. I also really love in Purple Hurts when Becky and Seth are in a bet to see who can go longer eating specific colored foods…but I’m not searching through 20 chapters for that.
which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?
The first thing that came to mind was Finn in “Can I break down your walls?” Cuz he’s literally abusive and ends up in prison for aggravated assault…
But also Trina’s mom in the power ranger soulmate fics when she tries to rub her soulmate mark off with windex cuz she’s a homophobe.
if you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?
Half of me thinks she’d be proud of how much I’ve actually written and that people actually read it and enjoy it. The other half thinks she’d be stunned that I’m still using writing as a coping mechanism, that I’m still living through a lot of my trauma and that I’m not over this shit yet. She’d also be concerned that I have run from fandom to fandom over the years, where is my loyalty?
This was fun, and deeper than I thought it would be, but two(2) people tops are gonna read it. But imma keep it here just for me that’s fine too.
If you have made it this far, go read my FreenBecky fic…it’s very angsty and very gay.
Retagging @theworldisrough because I don’t know anyone else. did you do this yet sis? I just wanna bother you lowkey. HELLO. If u have not been tagged and wanna be my writer friend, the applications are open.
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Now I pose this question to you:
Did I let you down because I needed more time than
the rest?
Or did you ever consider the crushing weight of your
perfect expectations, of a daughter you'll never have?
This is your crushing way of seeing your life next to me as such a bad place. So I should answer with such thought the words that you use that constantly crush my existence. Wondering how I could make such a difference in others lives daily except for yours. The rest of your writing was to painful to see as I have given you the soul of me. I made it all so different for you breaking cycles that you can only imagine in nightmares. Expectations I had none as I was left with this a child that I gave my love and compassion only to find that strangers had more love for you in your eyes. Always falling short of who you wanted me to be. I have yet to see love from you when all that has been poured was hatred to all that I taught you.
I may need to ask that maybe you did not have the mother that you wanted. You have yet to mature to see the light that I did not have but still made sure to shine in your path. Words that you used that I never said only to place a dagger that placed all that had been given as a loss in a distorted memory I may have never had. Your view on who I demanded you to be is what you portrayed to me as you highlighted all that I did wrong in your upbringing. My dear as I continue to walk in a path I know this my view was never distorted it was just interrupted to be placed on display by readers that you seek to build up your thoughts of who you want me to be. I say this with confidence as there is a thought of how I healed in time just to be the best that I could be for you. Unfortunately I was not enough as a mother for you as I saw things for you that you may not see in your self. I do not hold an expectation other than being respected like a human being. As I sit in your empty room I see all the things that went wrong and control I had none. I separated my thoughts and beliefs to fit in your world filled with illusions of the fortress of hate that you have for me. I need no acceptance or form to be signed to allow me to focus on what I have given in your lifetime. I have not doubted my selfless acts as to me it was my wish to be the mother that you so rightly deserved. Now I see that the problem is not what I think or perceive. In simple words I do not fit in your mold of what a mom should be in your world. I am sorry that I am not your friend or the person that you have met online.One that fulfills your every need to be loved with fake cyber illusions built in your head. I realized that the things you need are not in my book. As I did not write your ending to be one that portrays me as a villain in your words. I list not much of what has been done as my heart is continuing break with no illusion of mending from you. Maybe in the fantasy of your character words to you just carry your view and portray the view that justifies your betrayal. Let me begin by being poetically correct for I have given you lifetimes of love that I did not have and experiences of living that many may have never experienced in their lives. Maybe the problem was that even when your picture of your journey was crumbling I kept it together just for enough time for you to cross to better roads that may lead to your happiness. Unfortunately unknown to you, you never saw the ending as your focus was on the road that was placed together that was not to your standards. My perception of what my expectation was never existed . As my belief of your upbringing that had shattered decades prior to your existence. I was conditioned to never rely or have expectations in others. Maybe the perception of what you believe you should be is the same as the words you relentlessly write for your loyal readers to enjoy at the expense of those that would give their life in return for yours. My dear you will learn in time that the road that had been cushioned by love will not always be there when you fall. Maybe that day you will see that truly you yourself have distorted the reality of what was given to you . Unfortunately unknown to you the crumbles you thought you had received were precious to the sender as they gave the last of what they had. I hope that through it all you are happy and your dreams are fulfilled as truly that is the journey that I fought so hard for you to have.
Susana Rendón
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Direct talk is hard for me. I want to be a little vague for safety sake. It gives me a way out, so I can’t be backed into a corner. I didn’t speak for years, cuz there was no point—I let people believe what they wanted with a smile.
I don’t like asking for anything. I am used to having my needs invalidated. Or more accurately weaponized. My needs should not be used to control my behaviour. I am very independent & sometimes my pride is hard to swallow. I don’t like this chapter of life as a single mom—I have been so humbled by how little extra there is in almost every area of life.
I have a hard time speaking about feelings, because I have been made to feel like I am not smart or trustworthy. And that I’m too emotional. Therefore how could I possibly trust anything that I have individually generated on my own?! When I speak of things that are deeply important to me, or I didn’t practice saying—my eyes might leak. I am learning to feel for the first time in some spaces of my life.
Because I can see how I have a part to play in how I act in these 3 spaces…where I struggle most—I didn’t create any standard for how I would let people enter or exit my life. I have met beautiful people who give me better then I deserve. I also met bullies & perpetrators who will take every single thing they can get.
So 2024 I made a commitment to the word “choices.” I started to make difficult decisions about how I am willing to live going forward. The kind of relationships I will show up to. The ways that I will use any finances that come into my life. I am working through my faith & what I can support. I am deciding how I’m willing to use my time, my home, & my body.
I want a long term relationship with someone that is being built on the same principles that I would build a marriage or life with someone. I want to have space to ask every hard question. I want to understand the backstory, the wounding, & the character of someone.
Imperfections are not an excuse to judge, but a space to delve deeper & extend compassion. I need freedom to be all of me, so there is safety for them to be everything they were made to be. I choose all of someone or none of someone…humans are not supposed to be loved in parts & pieces.
I am drawn to a growth mindset. A fundamental belief in God, health, & good energy. I want to pull in the same direction, if I ever decide to yoke up with someone as a partner. I want a love story. More importantly—I want a life story where we choose each other every single day, until we can’t.
You didn’t sign up for any of this. You met an emotionally broken, overweight, & questioning human. You watched me explore, find myself, & I know I hurt you in the process. I tried to be truthful, but I also lacked integrity once in a while. I was not able to see you in any capacity, cuz I didn’t even want to acknowledge myself—I was avoiding a lot.
I have said words that didn’t have any weight to them. They were empty, & they were sometimes misleading—never intentionally. I have now discovered the source of my conviction. I kept growing and I kept talking, and sometimes I was shocked at what I could think. I heard a great podcast the other day, which destroyed me this week—it addressed addictions. They said addictions exist in any space where we don’t tell 100% of the truth & it’s because we want to find a 3rd door. Sobriety begins with the truth telling. I believe sobriety begins with hope that something better can exist then this vicious circle.
I want to sit with you for months to try to explain all of this…I am lucky to get minutes or hours. Which is why I decided to type one last attempt to explain how much things have changed in my life over the last year. It’s the biggest pivot of my life—you are caught in it, and I don’t know how to let you know, choose, & then live with that choice forever.
If this is met with complete silence, I will not push to see you any more times. I will get my answer. I won’t chase anymore what isn’t meant for me, or what doesn’t want to be chased. I want partnership. Not to mentor, mother, or feel like a stalker to a man to prove I have worth. If they don’t see it—I won’t try to prove it.
If you want to talk more, understand, or explore the meanings of this—I will commit to trying to break down walls, see you in your truths, & be supportive in any ways I can find capacity. I will try to communicate more clearly, I will choose concentrated loyalty, & I will always cheer for anyone that is honest enough to show up as nothing more or less then themselves.
I have deep feelings, but I never asked if you’re on board with me expressing them.
I want to know you, but I have still not gotten a response that says you are willing to be seen & understood.
I want to chase forever, but I am still very uncertain if you’re fully available. So every time you ask me what I need—I want to say “you”, but instead I say nothing.
I know casually fucking is not the same investment level as anything I hint at wanting.
We might both want marriage, kids, and forever, even if it never ends up being with each other. I know this & accept it. Nothing comes with guarantees. I promise that when you know—I’ll listen peacefully. I promise when I know, I’ll be totally honest.
I need to get more intentional before my soul breaks in this crazy dating world. I will always hold space for gratitude for the gifts you’ve given me. Thank you for everything.
I needed you so badly last week, but I couldn’t find you—I started to crumble. I felt through it all, and know everything I want to tell you—the truest words I have ever spoken. They are making me feel like I can’t breathe, but I don’t know when I’ll find you again to speak them. The fear of how they’ll land in your mind & heart still makes the little girl in me want to run away.
I don’t want to keep running. I have made some decisions with the “choices” that I can see before me.
I had that dream that I think has given me some clarity.
I experienced deep betrayal that I need to better explain in real life, for you to understand my January.
I have sat like a fly in the spaces where I have learned, unlearned, & felt it all.
I am humbled.
You have to know how sorry I am. Before you think you didn’t make me happy or that your effort wasn’t enough. I need to clarify if our choices of words mean the same thing. If we understand what the other person means.
My working memory isn’t good enough to imagine how love feels, what healthy looks like, or what God could give to me as a future. But I’m out of my head, into my heart, & I am as honest and loving, as I know to be.
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For those who feel like they are weaker than the rest.
This post is for anyone and everyone who has ever been shamed by someone who has a great career, makes good money and lives a standard, set way of life. “Why can’t you just get over it?”
For the longest time I felt like I was a failure of human life. Everyone around me seemed to be able to move through life with ease. Go to school, get a job with a large corporation, get a cushy salary, marry, buy a home, have children, you are all good.
I hated myself for not being able to just follow in these footsteps. Whenever I tried, I would have horrific emotional breakdowns and would be shamed for it by everyone around me. I fell into addiction and extreme isolation. I destroyed every relationship I had with anyone that cared about me.
I felt that if I couldn’t follow the path everyone else follows, that meant I was too weak to survive and therefore deserved death.
I tried many times to kill myself. But there was a part of me that refused to be killed. A part that was absolutely convinced that there was something important for me to do in this world. Even if it didn’t know what that thing could be.
I looked at and judged myself by the metrics those around me were judged. How much I work, do people like me, how much do I make, how successful I am at conducting business, where I am at financially and professionally at my age, how straight I am, am I raising a family of successful children, have I broken the law or crossed taboos and gotten found out... and so on and so forth.
Needless to say, I failed at every single one of these metrics. I allowed myself to be abused, to not believe I had any rights, to deny myself help or medical care, to allow wage theft and keep forcing myself to fit into these boxes no matter how poorly I did at it and how much it hurt. I nearly died.
But slowly, and with a lot of introspection, curiosity, openness, dedication, self care, and a whole lot of cursing and defiance, I came to see why I had such a reaction to THE way of life that everyone else found so easy to follow.
From an early age, my intuition told me that none of it worked in the long term. The environment I grew up in, and frankly, the environment most of everyone in the world grew up in, had a necessary shortsightedness built into it. Put all your disposable things in the garbage. Where does the garbage go? To the dump. What happens when the dump gets full? You make another dump. What happens when we run out of places to put dumps? That won’t happen. Ok, but the whole idea bothered me. Get a driver’s license and buy a car. Why? Because you need a car to go anywhere and do anything. Cars create pollution and rely on a non renewable source of fuel, what happens when we run out? We don’t think about that. You ask too many questions. Shut up and just do what everyone else is doing and you’ll be fine. What about all those people that are suffering on the street and have no access to housing, education or food and clean water? You work hard and follow the rules to not end up there. Aren’t they like us too? Don’t they have a place in society? No, in fact, I wish they would just kill them all, then we wouldn’t have any problems. The last one is something my mom said to me, paraphrased, but it captures the gist of the statement.
We have to realize that these people that we deem as successful and doing the right thing follow ideologies that allow them to not consider long term global consequences as long as they are on the right side of the fence. It’s an easy ideology, you never have to think too hard. It allows you to wash your hands from the problem because that is just the way things are. It puts you on an automatic morally superior category, because you were lucky to have never been in the other category (neurodivergent, disabled, queer, the “wrong” gender, the “wrong” skin color, the “wrong” cultural ethnicity, mentally ill, etc etc) or your otherness has never been exposed or is tolerated because you fit enough boxes with a high enough score.
In some cases, they never have to change anything because their ideologies supposedly come from morally righteous mythical beings. They have been a set way for thousands of years, and because of this, challenging them is anathema, lest they lose their mythical power. Why should I care? If I follow all the rules, I go to heaven. To hell with earth! A lot of these even believe in an apocalypse. Why should they care? The earth will be destroyed anyways. A self fulfilling prophecy unfolding before our very eyes.
The truth is, we don’t know what await for us in the future. We don’t have all the answers. Uncertainty is at best uncomfortable and at worst absolutely terrifying.
So of course so many of us struggle with terrible anxiety and depression. Yes, we want to live lives where we have physical safety and where we have a community where we belong and where we have enough to survive and thrive. But at the same time, they way the current systems are set up, having all of this seems to almost always rely on exploiting other people’s vulnerabilities and destroying our planet’s capability to sustain life. We want to work. We want to help. We want to contribute. We want to compete. But not at such a staggering and unacceptable cost. So a lot of us feel trapped. Like there is no way forward that feels morally acceptable, so we sink.
So what gives?
Well, there are some good news, even among all these distressing facts. Practically, we have everything we need to create a harmonious and self sustaining society. So from a purely physical/practical point of view, this task is not impossible. Our biggest enemies are greed, isolation, hatred, and pride.
Second, because of the way the system is indeed set up, there will always be less people at the top and more at the bottom. That means there is more of us, we just need to figure out a way to work together.
So what can we do now?
I am not 100% sure to be honest, I’m just a guy on the internet. But what I do know is that we are going to have to try things that have never been done before and that we are going to make a lot of blunders and mistakes in the process. We cannot let this detract us from seeking change, the cost of not trying anything new is simply too high.
I am personally staring with the most basic things. Building a healthy spiritual practice and building resilience to not fall in the face of adversity. Trying to spend my meager money on supporting local producers instead of giving gigantic corporations even more power whenever I can. This means buying less things, I am okay with this. And writing posts like this to inspire other who are struggling to take steps towards change. If enough of us starting enacting and demanding change, we can surely move towards a better future.
One of my greatest inspirations is Dr.Brene Brown. Her books have inspired me and given me hope and understanding that change is possible. No matter how impossible it seems.
Lastly, I want you to know that you are not alone and that you are valued. By caring about our world and others you display incredible strength in the face of apathy and conformity. This is not a weakness. What is truly weak and cowardly is to just shrug your shoulders and say “Meh, "insert excuse here”, so I don’t care.” People who think like this never have to lose anything to keep living a life of false safety. By defying the system we are not “entitled troublemakers”. We are risking disconnection, income loss, homelessness, abuse and harassment, violence, and for some even death. So keep being real and learning whenever you can. I value you, all of you.
Hope this gave you some hope to keep going.
P.S.(sorry for the poor grammar and punctuation, English is not my first language.)
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I was in some sort of game show. We were supposed to stay in a small house for a while and then we burned the house and were supposed to find a way out.
I don't remember what I wanted to turn into but I ended up turning in as a small tiger plush. Like one of those really small ones about the size of a man's hand.
Anyway I started panicking because that would make things so much harder for me to escape.
My friend M who was staying in one of the top floor rooms scooped me up and carried me around. He didn't suspect he already knew me, he just assumed I was a magical talking tiger plush.
He was actually trying to find something else but he couldn't. I said we should get out of the house before the flames reached his room. He tried to take some of his stuff but I said I don't think we're allowed to do that.
He climbed up a chimney in his room and ended up on the roof, then jumped over to the next door roof, which weren't far apart. Maybe only four feet.
I knew that's not what we were supposed to do but at that point the game show host (though in my head she was a teacher) was happy we made it out of the house at all.
The house collapsed with a bunch of people still inside. We could hear their screams. The teacher was devastated. M and I went down the roofs of the houses, until we reached the snowy ground. Each of the houses was built for the game show but not all of them were finished, and they got progressively smaller the further down the block you went.
The teacher was devastated. She figured the reason why it happened was because everyone who died in the house was a gameshow veteran. They had overestimated the difficultly of the house mazes and that was their downfall.
The dream jumped to months later. One of the survivors was in a circus where she rode on a giant naked chicken. The teacher was in talks with the executive where they would revive the gameshow with better safety standards.
I went back home, though the house was different. It looked more like the apartment we live in now. I was talking with my brother S when suddenly some flames started spilling into the house. I told S to call 911 while I ran out into the hall and found a fire extinguisher. I managed to take care of the fire but I found S outside talking to Mom.
I yelled at him and asked him why he didn't call the fire department.
He told me it would have been a waste and he knew the extinguisher would have sufficed.
Then I woke up.
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Bird adoption
A motorcycle stopped outside. Windy looked up from the dishes, glanced at Myotismon. He raised an eyebrow and Windy shrugged, dried their hands and pulled the apron off. There was a knock on the door. Myotismon backed away towards the bathroom and Windy opened.
A man stood on the other side of the door, his long, black hair tied into a ponytail and a raven on his shoulder. He was dressed in a navy blue overall, had a helmet under his arm and a brown backpack slung over his shoulder. He was a taller than Windy, who was staring at the raven.
”Are you gonna tell me to come in?” the man asked.
”Kouji?!” Windy asked back.
Kouji laughed. Windy took a step back, stared at Kouji instead.
”What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? What’s with the bird?”
”Uruse!” the raven said in Kouji’s voice and Kouji flicked it’s beak.
”If you gonna be rude to my friends you can leave.”
The raven tilted its head, but didn’t say anything. Windy took another step back and gestured for Kouji to come inside.
”It’s just Kouji!” they called inside. ”No need for a disguise!”
”I would not be too sure about that”, Myotismon answered. ”Does Kouji hold a grudge?”
”I hold all the grudges”, Kouji answered. ”I ain’t gonna throw hands, get out here.”
Kouji shook his shoulder and the raven flew over to one of bookshelves instead. Windy reached up to pet it and it snapped its beak towards them.
”Not the friendliest bird we’ve met”, Windy said and laughed.
”I can’t get rid of it”, Kouji said and took the overall off.
He had plain jeans and a white t-shirt under it. Windy snickered when they saw it and Kouji rolled his eyes.
”What?”
”You look so… normal”, Windy said. ”We’re not sure what we were expecting. What’s the bird’s name?”
”Fuck if I know”, Kouji answered. ”There’s no manual to it.”
Windy shook their head and turned to the raven again.
”So, what’s your name?”
The raven cawed at Windy and they nodded.
”Alright then, what does Krax like to eat?”
”Maggots”, Kouji said and sat down in the couch.
Windy sat down next to him and leaned against his side. He wrapped an arm around Windy. Windy’s body shook as they took a breath.
”...our gender is confused again”, they said.
”Your gender is always confused”, Myotismon said as he entered the living room. ”Do I need to be jealous of the squirt?”
”We don’t think so?”
Windy tilted their head to look at Kouji, who shook his head.
”Who’d be interested in this idiot?” he said and ruffled Windy’s hair.
Windy huffed and grabbed Kouji’s hand. It got covered in a layer of ice and he pulled it back and shook the ice off. Myotismon laughed.
”Well then, I will take my leave to the great outdoors so the two of you will have some privacy to reminisce over old times.”
He bowed deeply and Windy threw a pillow at him while laughing.
”We’ve told you to stop with the fancy talk. People will think we have standards.”
”You say that as if we ever have guests”, Myotismon answered, also with a laugh. ”I’m still going for a walk, you two enjoy yourselves while I’m gone.”
Windy waved and Myotismon left. Kouji put his arm around Windy again.
”We’re moving to the digital world”, Windy said. ”Without mom there’s no one there to guard it and there’s been more and more interference from the human world lately.”
”Everyone’s always connected”, Kouji agreed. ”Hate to see it.”
”We’re glad you showed up. It’s been a while. Are you hungry?”
Kouji shook his head and looked at the ceiling. Windy looked at Krax.
”What about Krax? Are you hungry? We don’t have maggots, but there should be seeds somewhere.”
Krax tilted its head.
”Kra”, it said.
”We have no idea what that means”, Windy said with a laugh. ”We’ll get the seeds.”
They stood up and headed to the kitchen. It hadn’t changed much since the group built it 5 years ago. The table was new, Windy had broken the old one while they were struggling to regain control over their powers. They had gotten the control back eventually, or at least reached an understanding. Kouji followed them and leaned against the doorframe.
”How’s life treating you?” Windy asked. ”Aside from giving you random birds.”
”I’ve travelled. Seen the sights. Mostly around Japan and Europe. Thinking about going to America next.”
”When did you get a bike?” Windy asked.
They peeked into a cupboard and found the birdseed, held them up for Kouji to see.
”We feed the local birds with this, think Krax will like it?”
Kouji shrugged and looked at the bird.
”Tabemono!” he called.
Krax flew into the kitchen and landed on Kouji’s shoulder. Windy poured the seeds into a bowl and put on the table.
”Pets allowed on the table here”, they said with a smile. ”Do they understand Swedish, or is it just Japanese?”
”I’m not sure it understands anything.”
Krax flew off Kouji’s shoulder and landed on the table. It inspected the seeds before deciding they were safe to eat. Windy grabbed Kouji’s hand and leaned against him.
”I miss you”, they said.
”Just you?” Kouji asked with a grin.
Windy pinched his side and laughed.
”We didn’t have time to get to know you after the battle. You left.”
”It was just…”
Kouji didn’t finish the sentence. Windy sighed and nodded against his shoulder.
”Yeah, we know. It was a weird time. Maybe I’ll write about it sometime. So how long are you staying this time?”
”Not sure. Heading to Kebnekaise next.”
”We’ve been talking about going there someday, could we tag along?”
”Maybe. If you promise not to scare the animals.”
Windy thought it over for two seconds then shook their head.
”Can’t promise that. I would love to fight a bear.”
They sighed.
”We are not fighting a bear, we’ve talked about that. Only in emergencies.”
Kouji hmmed quietly and squeezed Windy’s hand.
”Bears in the Digital World.”
”Only if they disturb the peace”, Windy decided.
They stood there while Krax finished its food. When there were no more seeds Krax flew past them and back onto the bookshelf. Windy followed it and sat down in the couch again. They looked at Kouji, who sat down next to them.
”Want to watch Frontier? For old times?”
”It’s only been 4 years.”
”Time is weird when you’re a digimon”, Windy said and grabbed the remote. ”We haven’t watched Frontier since then.”
”Frontier is fine”, Kouji said. ”Got the bike from Takuya. I have another back home… in Japan… but it’s hard to take to Europe.”
Windy started the series and made themselves comfortable in the couch. Kouji leaned back and Krax sat down on his shoulder again. Windy made another attempt to pet it and it snapped its beak at them again. Windy snorted.
”Think we can teach it to say its name?”
”It would be fun”, Kouji said, ”but I’m not planning on keeping it.”
”I don’t think you have a choice. It seems to have adopted you.”
”At least it’s not a kid. What have you been up to the last years?”
Windy frowned.
”A lot of dimension hopping. We’re trying to find all of the teleportation devices Chris made. Some got stolen.”
”Good luck.”
”It’s part of why we’re moving. It’s easier to go from the digital world.”
Windy took a shaky breath and tried to pet Krax again. It still wouldn’t let them.
”...we might not see each other again”, Windy said.
”Better make this Frontier re-watch count then”, Kouji said with a smile.
Windy smiled as well.
”The best”, they agreed and leaned against Kouji to watch the series.
#my writing#det digitala hotet#digimon frontier#kouji minamoto#self insert#I just wanted to write about Kouji's raven getting its name#it's a mess I know#I keep saying 'kouji is bad at coming up with names'#but honestly I'm pretty terrible at it as well#Windy is not using the royal we to refer to themselves#they are two versions of themself in one shell#it's complicated okay?#I have a 200k story in my brain explaining it all#but I'm too lazy to type it out :3
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“Hey.”
Rae looked up from her notepad and flashed a quick grin at Rebecca. “Hey!”
“Mind if I join you?” Rebecca pointed to the empty chair next to Rae’s.
“Nope,” Rae shook her head as she waved towards the seat. “Join away.”
“Thanks.” Rebecca settled into the seat, then placed her reusable water bottle on the small table between them. “Nice day for it.”
Rae nodded again, her notepad and pen joining Rebecca’s bottle before she turned her eyes to the view from the balcony. “Yeah.” She titled her head back slightly, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as the playful contest between the warmth of the sun and the cool, gentle breeze played across her skin.
“I heard you were thinking about a career change?”
Rae’s eye opened. She released her breath in a low, slow exhale before she turned to Rebecca. “Maybe.” she slumped back into her seat. “I don’t really know. I was having a bad day and it started out as just me venting but then everyone started giving me suggestions and now I’m thinking it might not be the worst idea ever.” She nodded towards her notepad. “Was working on a pro/con list before you showed up.”
Rebecca glanced at the pad before refocusing on Rae. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Rae picked up the pad and flicked through to the page in question before handing it to Rebecca. “See.”
Rebecca took the pad, scanned the page for a few seconds, then nodded. “Pros, no more dumpster diving. Cons, no idea what else I want to do.” She put the pad back on the table after Rae waved off its return. “So much for using you to help me.”
Rae’s head tilted to the side like a quizzical dog. “You want to change jobs too?”
Rebecca nodded. “Sort of, yeah. I love driving and I’m proud of the company I’ve built up, and I love being a singer, even if it’s more of a hobby at this point than a career, but…” She shook her head as she focused on the view. “I don’t know. I just feel like I need a change. Like…”
“Like you could be happier doing something else?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” Rebecca turned back to Rae. “Sorry, didn’t mean to turn your soul searching into a thing about me.”
“No, hey, don’t worry about it.” Rae held up both hands. “Honestly… it’s nice to know I’m not the only one feeling this way.”
Rebecca smiled, then offered her fist to Rae. “Mid-life crisis buddies.”
Rae laughed as she tapped her fist against Rebecca’s. “Are we mid-life? You’re like, what, 30 tops? And by Werewolf standards I’m basically a toddler.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Oh yeah, we can live for a really long time.”
“I don’t know if I should be jealous, or call a babysitter.”
“Try it.” Rae teased, the smile that played at the corners of her mouth faded as she shook her head. “But don’t be jealous. I love my family and I wouldn’t trade them for anything, but there are reasons why most of my kind avoid the mortal world.”
“Because we’re terrible?”
Rae barked out in laughter. “No,” She said once she’d calmed down, then tiled her head to the side again and added, “Well, not entirely that. And not all of you even when it is that; I mean, all of you are pretty great.”
“Thanks.” Rebecca picked up her bottle and unscrewed the cap with a flick of her thumb.
“You’re welcome.”
Rebecca nodded as she took a sip, then screwed the cap back into place. “Do you ever think about going back home?”
Rae drew in another deep breath, then let it out in a sigh. “Sometimes. Not, like, permanently or anything—I still want to be part of this world—“ she waved her hand towards the doors that led back into the apartment, “or the world we go to from this one. And I’ve been back home to visit a few times, so it’s not like I never get to see my family.” She shrugged. “How about you?”
“Same.” Rebecca straightened up in her seat. “I’ve been back to visit my Mom and the odd friend here and there, and we can literally go wherever we want in the blink of an eye from this place, so I’ve never really felt like I had to go home because I didn’t know when I’d have the chance to again.” She thumbed open her bottle again and took another sip. “But this is my home now, and as crazy and fucked up as things can get around here…”
Rae nodded. ”Yeah.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca repeated. “Now all we need to do is find a job we love doing.”
“Didn’t you say that you loved driving and singing?”
Rebecca tucked one leg under the other as she turned onto her hip to better face Rae. Her fingers toyed with the cap of her bottle. for a few seconds. “I did. I do. But I don’t think I’m in love with either of them. Honestly-” Rebecca shook her head as she let out a quick sigh, “-I’m not sure I ever did. And maybe that’s okay, I mean how many people can honestly say that they’re in love with their job… but I want to be able to say that.” She held Rae’s gaze for a beat. “Don’t you?”
Rae returned Rebecca’s look for several seconds before she gave her a small nod. “Yeah,” She nodded again, larger this time. “Yeah, I do. So how do we do that?”
Rebecca traded her water bottle for Rae’s notepad. “By listing the things we love, then figuring out what jobs work with those things?”
Rae shuffled her seat around to face Rebecca and Rebecca followed suit a beat behind. Once both were settled, Rae leaned forward.
“Let’s get started.”
Mun’s Note: I feel like I should be doing more here, but I’m not sure what, so until I figure that out, here is part 2 of Rae’s Career Crisis (and possibly the first Apartment verse post in para format)
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Gimme them “dick the master manipulator” hcs plz I love them
i love them too babe they may be a bit ooc but they are near and dear to my heart all the same
part of the reason wayne enterprises is doing so tremendously well is largely because of bruce’s kids. tim’s got a perfect mind for business, especially when he works with luke fox. but one of the things that turned the company from an generational, stiff business as forgettable as the hundreds of others just like it to a national giant was dick
dick, who went to all of the fundraisers bruce asked him to go to with a skip in his step and a smile on his face. dick, who told stories in his most childlike voice about how good it was living in the manor, and how grateful he was, and how he wished every kid like him could have the same wonderful opportunities. dick, who went to functions outside of gotham with bruce and, with a couple bats of his eyes, was able to secure a whole new group of investors. dick, who remembered all of these high class men’s wives’ names, who flattered them the way only an earnest little kid could, until the wives were telling their husbands they simply had to partner with bruce, because any man with that splendid of a kid was worth knowing.
dick, who doesn’t like business work and stays away from wayne enterprises and curls his lip when he thinks of the kinds of men bruce rubs elbows with every day, but was essential to the company all the same.
see, the thing was, wally’s parents weren’t very nice people. that’s not to say they weren’t cordial when wally invited dick over, excited that wally was bringing home a friend from school (though rudy’s dinner manners could use a little refinement).
they were perfectly acceptable, up to a certain standard. past that, their biases and hesitation shone brightly, and spilled over into wally, too.
dick almost threw up the first time wally asked him if dick could teach him how to pickpocket because he thought it would be useful as a vigilante, and his mom had said dick’s people were good at that sort of thing. his eyes were wide and guileless, unaware of the hurt festering in dick’s stomach, and that’s when dick decided that yeah, no, wally’s upbringing wasn’t going to cut it. (he was doing wally a favour, really, because roy would have just punched the poor guy in the face.)
so he took wally to haleé’s the next time the circ rolled into town, and introduced him to all of his old friends, his old family, showing the speedster that they weren’t different or exotic or whatever the hell dick heard rudy spout off sometimes during dinner. and he quietly cheered the next time he was over at wally’s house for dinner, when his father made a comment and wally narrowed his eyes, telling rudy he was wrong.
he went with wally to an ice cream parlour in the thick of central city, in the middle of june. he acted like nothing was amiss, ducking under a rainbow flag, while really watching wally out of the corner of his eye, the other boy taking in all the different couples sharing ice cream in the shop. positive reinforcement, he thought as he bought wally a giant ice cream cone after wally hesitantly told the worker behind the glass that he liked their pin.
and he went with wally to all sorts of college campus tours, quietly steering him towards the bigger cities, thrusting pamphlets into his hands and pointing out all the different benefits a college far from little old keystone would have. there was a twinge in his heart when wally introduced him to linda, but it was easily ignorable in favour of the pride he felt when he found out wally had started to learn korean for her.
it made him sick sometimes, how far people were willing to go just for a smile. granted, dick’s smiles were usually laced with a dark look in his eyes and deceptively casual body language, light flirting spilling from his lips as easily as his target fell for it.
he never liked doing this. being the bats’ chosen honeypot was a job he wouldn’t wish on anyone else, though, so he let himself fall into the role. he took note of every single one of his target’s responses: pupils widening, shoulders relaxing, tense grip on the drink falling slack. and he took that and ran with it. leaning forward to look his target straight in the eye and parting his lips the slightest bit until they were focused on nothing but him, casually bumping hips and touching toes until their body was lax in the chair.
it never failed, not even for the most experienced of people. a wink and maybe a kiss later, and he usually had what he needed: a usb drive or a cell phone or a tracker planted in a jacket pocket. his target usually never knew what hit them
dick was well aware of the soft spot clark held for him. it was sweet, a nice change from bruce’s high standards and even higher expectations. clark still saw him as a skinny little kid, swinging on bruce’s shoulders and launching himself at clark for hugs (not that he didn’t still do the latter, just rarely.)
he never failed to take advantage of it either. clark kent had a whip-sharp mind and a built in bullshit detector, but uncle clark melted every time dick slumped his shoulders and swung his legs forlornly over the edge of a skyscraper.
bruce isn’t letting me pick up basic patrols even though my injury healed over two days ago, he would pout, munching on the doughnuts clark had bought him as the older man made sympathetic noises. in a couple days, bruce would mysteriously clear dick for active duty, citing a “new outlook,” and dick would hide his grin as he raved to clark about bruce’s sudden change of heart.
it’s just so difficult getting recommendation letters these days, he’d groan to clark, sprawled over the sofa clark’s apartment, especially since everyone knows me as bruce wayne’s kid, so they’ll never be honest. only a week afterwards, dick knew he could expect a pristine letter of recommendation from pulitzer prize winning author lois lane.
i just don’t have the time to deal with him on top of everything going on in bludhaven, he’d complain, suit on but mask off on the roof of the daily planet. i can’t just drop everything the minute slade decides he wants to fight with someone competent. after that, he knew slade wouldn’t be showing up in bludhaven or gotham anytime soon, because superman could be quite terrifying if he wanted to.
#scribbles from the swamp#dick grayson#nightwing#wally west#the flash#clark kent#superman#dc#dick grayson headcanon#nightwing headcanon#wally west headcanon#the flash headcanon#clark kent headcanon#superman headcanon#dc headcanon
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Foolish Games Part 2
Masterlist
A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.
Warnings: BJ
I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.
Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.
It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.
A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.
“Motherfucker,” I whispered.
Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.
“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.
“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.
“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”
“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”
“I’m sure the fuck they did.”
“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”
“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.
~~~~
“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”
I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.
“Should I call him?”
“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”
“Nope and that’s fine.”
“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”
~~~~
“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.
The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.
“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.
“That’s karate. Can I help you?”
“Do you do trial classes?”
I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.
“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.
“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”
I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”
A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”
“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”
He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”
Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.
“I…”
“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.
His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”
“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”
He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”
“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”
I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.
It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.
“Alright, talk,” I said.
“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”
“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”
A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”
I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”
“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”
“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.
“So how, did you feel about the class?”
“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”
I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”
“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.
The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.
“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”
“It was!” I snapped.
A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”
I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”
He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”
“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”
“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”
I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”
“Reyna moved back in.”
“You’re engaged again?”
I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.
“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”
“You know you could stay here, Perc.”
He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.
“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.
His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.
For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”
I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?
The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.
“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.
“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”
“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”
He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.
My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.
“Like this?” I asked.
His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.
He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”
#percy jackson smut#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson#logan lerman smut#logan lerman fanfiction
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ok but I read games and I am ADDICTED and I just thought I could maybe request something like-
Eren meeting the reader through a simple comment and a timeskip to them being v close until they eventually end up in a fight because reader was ranting to eren about how perfect their crush (who is actually eren) is and him just exploding and them getting into a fight until the reader eventually goes "that person is you, dumbass!" Or smth like that and from there it all just turns into a lot of kisses and smut👀
only if you're comfy/in the mood of writing smth like this tho! just had this random thought last night and thought I'd request a little erenxfembodiedreader
Anyway have a nice day, night, afternoon, morning, you're amazing :D
Oh my gosh, this is my first request ever and I am so incredibly excited to write this and I really hope I did good in writing something you would want. Thank you so much for submitting this request, please feel free to send more! I love writing fanfics of any aot character and will do my absolute best to embody them in these. Sorry for the long wait, when I say the last chapter had me all the way FUCK3D up. EreMika is canon and I haven't been able to stop saying "He loved her, oh my god he loved her" in that "and they were roommates" vine way because that's my coping mechanism and it's cheaper than therapy. Anyway, I give you-
"Assumptions."
Pairing: Eren Yeager x Fem!reader
TW: nsfw, smut, angst, jealously, swearing, yelling, a bit of fluff, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink, a bit of voyeurism, a bit of sexism, eren being denser than a rock, Levi having health issues because he's old
Other: aot world if the mess of season four never happened and eren didn't fall to sad bitch hours, reader is a regular girl with family issues, all characters are over 18, Erwin never died and Floch never went insane
It wasn't that Eren hated going into town, but he wasn't exactly used to going to town alone. He always had Mikasa and Armin flanking either side of him but since the discovery of the world outside the walls and the decreased threat of titans, scouts were needed more than ever in the recovery of the lost districts. Mikasa was the second strongest soldier alive and Armin was expected to take after Erwin. Eren was useful when it came to being the one who possessed the attack and founder titan, but lately there was no big threats that required his titan abilities.
That didn't stop Hange from poking him, nor did it stop Captain Levi from keeping him busy with even the most minimalist of tasks. Today was no different and when the options were given to him and Jean, who was still asleep in his bunker, on shoveling horse shit or going into town to stock up on supplies and check to ensure all market suppliers weren't being capitalist pigs to the local vendors, Eren all but hauled ass through the door, hand swiping the grocery list off the table and yelling, "Good luck Jean-boy!"
Everything seemed to be going just fine, none of the local vendors had any troubles and most seemed happier with the drastic improvements of the living situations for Eldians. The fear of being eaten any day now or losing a loved one to war had seemed to be the driving force that had led to problems before. Some people recognized Eren, but no one seemed to want to approach him. He had had encounters with people who thought of him as a god, but he usually ignored them or kept a level-headed composure. Despite knowing that he had a power no one else had, outside of being a titan-shifter, Eren didn't really know what he had to offer. Armin was smart, Mikasa was strong, and he couldn't exactly claim titan-shifter seeing that Armin was also the colossal and Ymir had been the jaw.
He let out a sigh, kicking a rock in his path and silently yearning for something beyond his knowledge. Despite knowing that he was never really alone, he felt lonely a lot of the time. He had never given much thought to settling down, with the clock running out on him he often thought what was even the point? He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep being a soldier or if he wanted to go back home one day, he didn't really try to dwell on the future, content with being in the present and having Mikasa always on the verge of tears when she was reminded that he would one day die, didn't really give him room to think of much else.
You weren't oblivious to the tales and rumors that went around the town about the scouts and their secret weapon in the form of a shapeshifting man and how him and his comrades were able to plug the hole in the wall of a district your family had come from long ago. Your father had long since escaped the walls of Maria before it fell, he made an honest living being a construction man, and your mother was a nurse who happened to catch his eye when he had a roofing accident. They built a life for themselves within Wall Rose. You weren't the richest family, nor did you have a name that was well known. Nonetheless, you were all hard working. Your brothers worked for the respect they got, one being a weapon maker and the other being a bar keeper was enough for the part of town you were in. Even their wives did well for themselves in being a seamstress and bar waitress. As the youngest, you were loved and cared for. You weren't the most beautiful girl in town, but you turned heads nonetheless, well until one of your brothers decided to glare or promptly hit whoever doted on you too long for their liking.
The people who knew you, thought you were trouble. Mostly the elders spewed of you and your ways of thinking being a disgrace to everything Eldians stood for and bringing only shame to your gender, you were a woman ahead of her time and they couldn't stand it. Like your mother you had entered the medical field, but even when you were small you claimed you would be a doctor one day. You shadowed and worked under the supervision of the town's doctors. Many amused at your antics, some who didn't care about you being a girl and just grateful to leave such responsibility on someone who was genuine in the intent, and others not caring one way or another and not willing to hear your screeching pleads to observe what they did. Your mom had spoken with you more than once about settling with being a doctor's aide, today being no different and you let out a sigh as you looked to your mother's pained expression.
"I just don't understand why you insist on making your life so difficult? It was bad enough when you proudly exclaimed your goals in front of the entire church, but now this?"
You could only look away, looking towards the fields where you saw your third brother grooming the horses. You hadn't said anything bad, you were approached with a job offer that would give you the title and respect you had been desperately craving, and it would bring greater honor to your family...or so you thought before your mother reacted the opposite in which you hoped.
"I will not have any daughter of mine chasing dreams and fantasies off in some other place where no one can protect you. This is a suicide mission and I for one will not stand by and watch you march forward to your downfall."
Your father stood behind your mother, not really saying anything and not even looking at you. You felt especially bad for the commander and captain who stood on either side of you and were bearing witness to the absurd exchange between your family.
"Mrs. Y/L/N, you have to know that if Y/N were to accept this offer, she would never be in the front lines. We have bases located all throughout the walls and she would do what she did best and be our primary doctor." Commander Erwin spoke with such calm words, his demeanor kind and patient.
"So you expect me to let her run off with a bunch of men whose brains are broken from the wars they fought and not worry? She is not even married!"
You grit your teeth so hard upon hearing that, you were sick of the standards put forth on you since your birth. You were sick of the expectations you were in no hurry to reach and you were especially tired of the lack of faith your family had in you to be independent and strong. Your fists clenched and you felt a steady gaze on you.
"I'm not an expert or anything on parenting, nor will I act as if I am, but instead of yelling at her, why don't you try asking your daughter what she wants to do?" You didn't silence the gasp you released, looking at Captain Levi in confusion and admiration.
All eyes turned to you, your mother crossing her arms as if asking you to try and defy her. Erwin looked a bit expectedly and Levi looking indifferent to the entire conversation. It was your father who beat you to it before you could even open your mouth to answer.
"You have a choice, my daughter. If you choose to stay, you'll make your mother and brothers happy. You can continue to help people but you will never be acknowledged as a doctor...but you'll have your family. Or you can choose to leave and live your life to your own accord, but you will lose the respect of the town and your mother will never speak to you again. Are you willing to put yourself above your family?" You expected this from your father, always neutral and never judgmental, what he was saying was true after all. Were you willing to lose your family over your dreams? Would you be able to survive on your own with only the scouts to rely on?
Your head was hurting and your frustration only grew when your brothers decided to come home and after your mother wailing at them about your plans to leave, they were quick to overwhelm you with their own opinions. The commander and captain apologized but they had to leave and return to headquarters.
"Take your time on making your decision. We will come back in a few days for your answer." Commander Erwin told you, giving you a smile as he continued, "I know its a lot to ask you to choose us over your flesh and blood, but if you do. You have my promise that we will protect you, and we may never be able to fully replace your family in your heart, but the scouts will be a family on its own for you."
"Tch," Captain Levi shook his head, "Look brat, you will see and do things that you won't always like. People will die no matter how hard you try to save them, but call Erwin and Hange delusional--they see something in you. Don't walk into this half-assed, if you choose to be our doctor and you choose to take on the title and everything it carries with it, you have to dedicate your heart."
You only nodded. Two days had passed as you walked through the market, the small basket in your hands carried apples and some citrus fruits. Your mother still wasn't talking to you and your brothers seemingly assumed you wouldn't be leaving, only your father knew how frantic your mind was, and one morning he admitted that he would be delighted to have at least one of his children carry the family name on a military standing. So you had his support.
You even spoke to the animal doctor you had been shadowing for the past few weeks, his eyebrows had rose in an impressed matter and he promptly asked when you would be leaving.
"I haven't made a decision, yet." You said.
"You would be an idiot not to take it." Was all he replied before asking you to give the cattle their medicine.
Idiot, huh? You wondered. You knew deep down he was right. Your mind continued to play in endless loops of thought before you heard a commotion to your right. Turning your head you saw a group of men, their huddling seemed a bit more frantic and it was not until one of them yelled that you noticed one man in particular on his knees.
"Help! Someone call a doctor!"
The man on the floor was bleeding rather profusely and you didn't have time to question what happened before you quickly made way.
"Sir, let me see."
"Hey! Woman don't touch him!"
"Make yourself useful and go get a doctor! What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"I am a doctor." You calmly said, inspecting the gash on his side and seeing the edge of what appeared to be a broken pipe sticking out from the building behind them. The drips if bloods glistening in the sun only confirmed what you thought.
"We were-" The injured man rasped out, "Just horsing around."
"It's okay." You reassured, grabbing a roll of gauze and stack of medical napkins you always kept in your basket. You apologized before applying pressure to the wound, and you heard the patter of rushing feet.
"A doctor is on his way! A real one!" One of the men sneered, and you did your best not to roll your eyes and focus on stopping the bleeding. You asked the man to lie on his back and he surprisingly complied, he didn't seem to care about you being a girl and only seemed thankful to not be alone and scared.
"Do you hear that? Move before you kill him!" The first man hollered, the hand on your shoulder causing you to sharply inhale.
"Excuse me for one moment." You told the man, and you were quick as you hand shot up to grip the disrespectful ass by his wrist and twist it in one fluid motion, you wasted no time in using the building wall as leverage, quickly running up and using his weight to stabilize yourself before you roundhouse kicked him so hard it sent both of you flying back. You landed on one foot, balancing yourself before going back to the patient.
You couldn't deny how satisfying it was to hear the impact, or the groan of pain coming from him. Your eyes met the others.
"If any of you touch me, I'll do exactly what I did to your buddy there, but ten times worse. Now shut the hell up and let me save this man."
Eyes widely stared at you as you resumed caring for the injured, a few minutes passed by the time the doctor got there.
"Oh!" His eyebrows rose, "Hello Y/N, didn't expect to see you here. If I would have known, I wouldn't have left the hospital on its own."
"Hi Dr. Goodwin," You looked up, two fingers on the injured man's wrist and the other held up four fingers from your counting. You blushed slightly from his confidence in you and you noticed the men who bullied you all sport faces of confusion.
"His pulse is stable. I wrapped the wound tightly, but he needs stitches."
"Thank you, miss." The injured man grabbed your hand and you smiled in return.
"Don't mention it."
"Actually, it's Dr. Y/L/N." Dr. Goodwin said, seeing your eyes widen and the smile he gave only made your heart swell that much more.
The doctor nodded, thanking you before asking his helpers to load him to the small gurney they brought. He could only thank you briefly before you waved them off. The other guys had stayed back, eyes wide in disbelief that the doctor not only recognized you, but acknowledged your work.
"Are you a nurse or something?"
"Are you morons deaf? Did you not hear Dr. Goodwin? I'm a doctor too."
The leader seemed to recover from the kick you gave him earlier as his lip curled in an ugly matter, "What kind of sick joke is that? No such thing as a woman doctor."
"Obviously there is if I'm standing right in front of you. Or did my kick knock a few more scews loose?"
Eren was walking buy, noticing the commotion from afar and as a soldier, his instincts to provide help in dire situations kicked in. He elbowed his way to the front. Seeing you standing defiantly in front of five tall muscular men. He stepped forward as the main leader got in your face, but when you shifted your foot, he seemed to coil back. Eren noticed a giant welt on one side of his face and wondered how the hell he got such an ugly bruise. It didn't stop their onslaught.
"Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you could do whatever the fuck you want?"
"Because in this world, I'm free to do whatever the fuck I please." Eren watched as your eyes narrowed in further defiance, the smile on your face sickeningly sweet and all he could think about was how he had never seen such a woman.
You hadn't even noticed the audience that gathered, you side stepped the group of men, going as far as waving a goodbye with a breathy giggle, you picked up your basket. You had a small hop to your step and despite not caring to even spare a glance to the onlookers, your eyes met a pair of pretty green ones. The prominent bone structure made you think, "Wow."
However, the tall muscular body you did a once over on had you follow that thought with, "Oh damn."
Eren seemed dumbfounded, your obviousness in checking him out made him flush. He had never felt self-conscious over his body. He knew even before he hit puberty that he would do well to grow muscles and abs, the necessary type of figure to have if one were to be a soldier of the scouts. He knew it was also something some females found attractive in the opposite sex but it's not like he ever had time to date much less dwell on what girls liked. Seeing the way you looked at him though, he couldn't deny that he silently hoped for your approval.
When you finally met his eyes once more, you had him floored when he saw you drop a wink at him.
The crowd murmuring as they watched you go made his own eyebrows furrow in confusion. He stepped to one of the members and demanded an explanation.
"Honestly, the little lady was crazy! She came in here claiming to be a doctor and helped patch up a guy who got cut by the pipe over there. Instead of waiting for a real doctor, she made a whole fuss."
"Where's the guy?"
"Dr. Goodwin picked him up. That doctor is mad too, he also said she was a doctor, but that's ridiculous. No woman can be a doctor. That's so many levels of wrong."
Eren felt the urge to punch the man in the mouth, but one glance at the ugly bruise his friend sported reminded him,
"What happened to your face?"
The leader grumbled a bunch of profanities, "That little bitch. I tried to get her off before she messed the guy up anymore and she kicked me."
"In your face?" Eren sounded impressed, and he was when he received a nod of confirmation.
He looked to the direction which you disappeared in and said fine words to the group, "Whether you men like it or not. The world is changing, everyone is free to be who they want. If women can join the military no problem, they can be doctors too."
He saluted before rushing off, not hearing the mutters of annoyance from the men. In all honestly, Eren had no clue on what he was doing.
You were scrubbing off the blood from under your fingernails near a fountain when you hear the shuffle of feet from behind you. You silently hoped it wasn't any of those morons asking for more trouble, but you were pleasantly surprised when your eyes met a pair of green ones from before.
"I'm Eren." You smiled at him, nodding and your smile turned quirked when he stuttered in, "Yeager. Eren Yeager."
Hmm, you had thought, His name suits him. You studied his demeanor, not missing the gear strapped to either sides of his hips or the green hood covering his shoulders. You knew immediately that he was a scout and you wondered if he knew Captain Levi. Before you got the courage to ask him, he beat you to it.
"What did you mean by what you said earlier? Do you really think that? That we're all free to do anything we want here?"
You smiled as you nodded, walking towards a vendors stand and Eren fell into step beside you, you felt nervous around him, but also safe with his company. He watched you as you picked up another apple to inspect.
"We have laws and rules though...so we're not technically all the way free?"
"I'm free to be me, just as you are free to be you...Eren...Yeager."
It was the way the sun hit your face in that moment, highlighting your strong cheekbones and giving a special glint in your eyes that made Eren want to hear your thoughts more. He spent the rest of the day asking you questions, never satisfied with the small responses you gave him and he even walked you home. The mean glare from your mother confused him beyond belief and it was your father's words that made you gasp in surprise that night.
"He's the titan shifter, the one who helped plug up wall Rose."
Your face had turned red in embarrassment, you were talking so casually to a literal titan and you even flirted with him. He even held your basket the entire trip to your house and you didn't even consider how informal you acted with your skirt. You had hitched one of them up your thigh to get better footing and hadn't missed the way Eren blushed at seeing so much skin. You knew the girls in the scouts wore pants, but even then they kept covered.
You were certain Eren wanted nothing else to do with a girl who held little to no morals, but you were caught by pleasant surprise when you saw him with Erwin and Levi the next day in town.
His eyes had immediately found yours and you didn't miss the blush on his cheeks as he gave you a small wave. You couldn't but laugh when Captain Levi suddenly kicked him.
"Who's got you turning red brat?"
"Uh-it's nothing, captain."
He didn't look convinced as you gathered the courage to approach. Erwin acknowledged your presence which Eren was grateful for, but his eyebrows still came down in confusion on how the commander knew your name.
"Y/N!" Erwin gave a polite smile which you returned, "So great to see you. We were actually just about to stop by your house."
"Really? What a coincidence, I was hoping to stop by headquarters today as well." Your smile was bright, and by the way the air around you seemed cheerful, Erwin returned your energy.
"Bearing good news I hope?" He still hesitantly asked.
You nodded as you laughed, "I would love to accept the offer if it still stands."
"Of course it does," Captain Levi scoffed, his arms were folded across his chest. You noted for the first time the soft grey color of his eyes and despite the deep scowl he was currently showing, he had chubby cheeks that made you want to squish, "We wouldn't be coming all this way for nothing."
"I thought we were coming to collect a new scout, Captain Levi." Eren asked, you felt yourself blush in realization that he had no clue it was actually you they were referring to.
"We are," Levi grabbed you by your arm and yanked you towards him as he pointed at you while looking at Eren like he was an idiot, "Meet the scout's new doctor. Dr. Y/L/N meet Eren-"
"Yeager." You finished, smiling towards Eren, "We've met."
Erwin and Levi exchanged looks as they watched you and Eren smiled at each other like a pair of idiots, the realization dawning over them and Erwin couldn't fight the smirk that crossed his face. Small world, he thought.
Six months had passed since the first fateful encounter you had with Eren. You had long since moved out of your home and besides the occasional secret letter from your father, you hadn't heard nor seen the rest of your family since your decision to become a doctor for the scouts.
It was a transition to go through as you lost one family and gained a new one, but everyone was so accepting and welcoming. The girls welcomed you with open arms, most notably was Sasha whose habit of eating everything and anything brought her to the infirmary on more than one occasion, Connie usually followed right behind her with a minor injury resulting from his carelessness. You had met Floch when he brought Jean in from a sparring session gone wrong and he immediately took a liking to you. Your level-headedness was like a breath of fresh air to him as he was constantly sorrounded by people he thought were idiots. Jean liked your confidence (The fact that you were easy on the eyes, didn't hurt either), Mikasa respected the way you didn't hesitate to put people in their place, and Armin admired that despite your obvious toughness, you were a kind and patient doctor who never turned anyone away. You were diligent and hard-working, yet your smile was always able to uplift any sour mood and you always put your best foot forward. The one time he had puked all over your hospital floor from eating too much undercooked meat was embarrassing for him, he thought for sure you were going to be angry and call him an idiot. Instead, you took his temperature, put a cold cloth on his head (despite his titan status guaranteeing a speedy recovery), and started a healthier diet plan for him. Armin was scheduled a weekly checkup with you, partly to ensure he was listening and partly for you to study him a bit more. Your research on the titan's ability to regenerate and recover from even the worst injuries was fascinating for you, you hoped to isolate the genes and figure out a way to maybe trigger it in regular Eldians without setting off the titan ability, the fact that Eren made it a habit to accompany Armin didn't hurt either.
Eren had grown attached to you, whenever he wasn't busy or in need of a place to hide from Captain Levi's wrath or Hange's insistence to poke and prod him, he would be hanging out around you or in your office. At one point you had to hide him under your desk when Commander Erwin stopped by to hold a meeting with you about providing first aid training to the scouts for excursions. You were always welcomed to accompany them outside the walls, but your work was enough to make you stay. You recalled the way Eren was pressed against your legs, the feel of his hands steadying himself on your calves and when your skirt had shifted up when you reached for one of the records, you felt Eren brush his fingertips along the muscle. You had stammered the rest of the meeting through and smacked him afterwards for putting you in such a compromising position. You were blushing furiously at the way he gave such a boyish grin and even that night while he walked you to your small cottage, he had a satisfied smile in place.
You always knew you liked Eren, you were also hopeful that the feeling was mutual. The both of you had grown close over the course of your stay, as the head doctor you were given your own living quarters, not too far from headquarters but not so close to the city that you would be given a hard time. Your cottage was fair in size and with the amount of income you were receiving, you were quick to furnish and decorate it to your liking. Eren had even helped by adding his own touches to the interior. The times you would go to the city with him was always met with many curious stares. Your age and gender made many turn heads when you walked in, the fact that you were the youngest and by far prettiest doctor the scouts had ever had made people naturally gravitate to you. Your ability to make friends quickly also made it that almost every weekend you were entertaining guests at your house. Sometimes it would be dinner with Sasha, Niccolo, and Connie. Other times you would be knitting and embroidering with Mikasa and Armin, there was even game nights with everyone until Jean and Eren became too competitive with one another. Other times when the higher ups had meetings (All of which you had to attend since you technically held an officer position within the military branch) you would offer your house where you all shared cups of tea and your famous baked goods. You had even seen Captain Levi grab seconds on your sugar cookies.
It was the times when Eren would swing by alone that caused your heart to flutter, he would walk you home almost every night now. At first he would find the poorest excuses to see you like needing a bandaid for his wrist from the biting (even though by the time you gave him the gauze it would be healed over completely) or try to "casually" be around the area when you would get out at three in the morning. Eventually your amusement turned to you asking him to walk you home every night under the guise that you were afraid of being targeted or hurt, even though everyone had seen you body-slam Reiner the one time he tried to hit on you when you were stitching up his eyebrow from an ugly gash. Nonetheless, Eren accepted. You would invite him in for tea every time and he would even bring you lunch on days he failed to see you in the cafeteria. It seemed like everyone under the sun knew about you and Eren's crushes on one another, so it was also a pain in the ass that neither of you had yet to make a move on one another. Even Erwin had assumed you two were together the one morning he stopped by your house on your day off to ask for your aid for a soldier who had broken their arm from a training exercise, his eyes had grown wide upon seeing you open the door in only your nightgown, you were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you invited him in for breakfast.
Upon walking in, he immediately saw Eren exiting your bathroom in his casual jeans, his hair was wet and sticking up from the steam of the shower. Eren wasn't wearing a shirt and before Erwin could excuse himself completely you quickly explained how you hadn't wanted him to walk outside so late so he slept on your couch. You were washing his clothes and had left them out to dry and Erwin could only nod and stop himself from suggesting for Eren to bring spare clothes to yours, remembering that it wasn't his place to push or even encourage his team's doctor and titan-shifter to date even though by the way he saw you put jelly on Eren's toast while he made your cup of tea with three sugars was enough for him to almost just order the two of you to date. Instead, he gave a long rant to Levi, wondering aloud whether Eren was either oblivious to your affections or just an idiot, Levi only replied with, "Did you happen to bring any of the toast she made?"...he did and Levi later on answered, "He's just an idiot." while licking the excess jelly off his fingers.
It was another day at headquarters, the mid-summer day was hot and since the flow of traffic had been slow inside the infirmary, you found yourself mostly in the officer's lounge. You had opted to wear a long sleeve empire waist dress, the top had ruffles along your collar and the soft pink of the dress complimented your skin tone. It fell around mid-thigh and the black shoes you wore with them completed your overall look. Eren had stared at your bare legs for a while until he noted your haircut. You had only cut off the ends but your heart did a flip as you blushed from him noticing. You had been chatting with Hange about your research while Moblit spoke to Eren about the new set of routes to be taken during their next trip beyond the walls when Captain Levi walked in. Hange waved him over and he fell easily beside you.
"Hey." His arm brushing against yours and you hummed in response, leaning a bit towards him which didn't go unnoticed by Eren.
"Levi, did you take your medicine this morning?" About two weeks ago you had caught the captain asleep at his desk for the fourth time. You knew he overworked himself and refused to sleep in his bed no matter how many therapeutic pillows you got him, but while he was out like a light you decided to check his blood pressure, only to find it alarmingly high. You figured the amount of stress and cups of caffeinated tea were to blame. Levi kept in good shape, but considering his age and the fact that he never even considers laughing, you prescribed him medications to be take every morning and cut him off from his usual tea leaves. The former was easier to push as the calcium and magnesium capsules were easy to swallow, it was getting rid of all the tins in his desk that made him a bit unbearable to the new recruits.
He let out an annoyed grunt as he nodded. Your smile was soft as you put an encouraging hand on his arm and Eren was officially not listening to Moblit anymore.
"Thanks for sticking to your diet, Captain Levi. As a token of my appreciation, I got you these." You didn't let him reply, quick to act as always as you reached into the small basket you had brought and grabbed his hand to put the gray tin of loose leaves that you took out in his palm.
As usual, the captain was unfazed by your lack of appreciation for personal space. The past few weeks had done well to teach him how despite being yelled at, threatened, and even outright ignored at times, your cheeriness was impossible to diminish and you did whatever the heck you wanted even when it was at times impulsive.
"What is it?" He looked between you and the tin, the slight sneer on his upper lip making you release a giggle before you tapped the bow you tied on it.
"It's tea leaves." He raised a slim eyebrow which made you roll your eyes, "Decaffeinated tea."
"Let me guess, it tastes like shit." His eyes flickered to the purple bow, "Or it'll make me shit."
You laughed, you upper body leaning on his as you attempted to catch your breath. The joke wasn't that funny but the face he made was. You giggled as you shook your head and Hange watched in bemusement as you elaborated,
"It's the tea I always serve and judging by the three cups you had last time, I'm positive you'll like it."
Levi let out a nod, he hadn't even noticed that the tea you served had no caffeine but the heavy notes of honey in it probably explained its sweetness. He gave a quiet thank you before his scowl returned,
"So that's why I was on the crapper all night after the last meeting."
"With a potty mouth like that, it's not wonder you don't have a girlfriend." You deadpanned.
"I feel bad for the poor bastard who falls in love with you."
You let out a small tsk, smiling at him and hoping Eren heard as you said, "Well that depends if he admits he feels the same way."
Captain Levi quirked an eyebrow at you, his eyes knowing and you blushed under his stare. Your fingers fiddling behind your back and Eren hated the way Levi suddenly chuckled at you. His smile was a rarity and to have him giving it to you only meant one thing to Eren; the captain liked you.
"So there is someone you like? Who's the poor brat?"
When you were about to make another snide remark, Hange cut in and excused herself and Moblit.
"As fascinating as this is, there's a captured titan waiting my arrival and if I don't get to use this research Dr. Y/L/N just gave me before nightfall, I will lose my mind."
"I hadn't heard of us ever finding it to begin with." Levi sighed, taking a lock of your hair between his fingers and letting the curl bounce back before he excused himself to tag along with them.
"Someone's got to make sure four eyes doesn't get killed."
"That's why Moblit is going with her." You noted.
"And who do you think will make sure Moblit doesn't get killed?" He smiled once more, "Laters doc."
You waved goodbye to the three, the door clicking behind them and you turned to see Eren with his arms crossed. He was pouting like a child and you wondered what his deal was. You figured with your earlier comment, he would be over the moon to hear you hinting at liking him. You skipped up to him, getting on the tips of your toes as you poked his cheek.
"What's the matter? You look like a scolded child."
"Nothing." He muttered, looking away as his jaw clenched and you only poked him once more.
"Liar." You called him out, "Talk to me."
"You didn't answer Captain Levi's question."
You were sure that there was a giant question mark on top of your head, the gear in your mind shifting as you tried to recall what the captain asked before your mouth opened in realization. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at Eren's shoes and he only seemed to grow angrier as he watched you blush.
"About my crush? Oh! Well I wouldn't call him a brat, but I guess his attitude could often warrant that title. He's got this sort of this determined mentality that I guess some people can find...overbearing." You played with the cuff of your dress, "But I personally find it charming."
"So he's charming?"
You hummed as you smiled, "He's a bit rough around the edges, but he always means well. He's easy on the eyes too. Got really nice hair and pretty colored eyes that makes me swoon around him. Not to mention his body looks like Zeus could be his father." To add emphasis, your body leaned side to side as you laughed.
Eren snorted, his eyes rolling as he thought of any guy he knew that was like you described. All he could think of was Captain Levi and Erwin. He hated to think of Levi as charming, but he was rough all around. Erwin had eyes that Historia had once described as pretty, but to think of you being attracted to someone as old as him made his stomach flip.
"Want to head back to my office?" You suggested, not wanting to leave Eren's side until he figured it out but also not wanting to stick around in case other officers walked in. You got a stiff nod and wanted to giggle when Eren still opened the door for you. As the both of you walked through the large building, you added a hop to your step as you continued,
"He's also such a gentleman. He respects me, he's never intimidated by my sharp wit, always opens doors for me, waits until I'm sitting before he starts eating, and he almost seems proud of me being a doctor. He's just so understanding and sure of himself as a man that I guess the idea of having a girlfriend in my position would never make him feel inferior." You turned to look at Eren sideways and noticed his shoulders hunched, you knew it was cruel how you kept teasing him but were hopeful that it would click for him soon, so you went on.
"Wow, sounds like a real keeper." He grumbled, now thinking of Jean or even Connie. Armin was too occupied with Annie and Reiner was too obsessed with Historia to hang around you. There was no way Beruto/Borrito/Bertoto would catch your eye as you had made it a point to always get his name wrong, but Connie made you laugh and Jean was always extra nice to you.
"I'm telling you, I think he's perfect. He's dependable, strong, and we share so many of the same ideas. I could talk to him for hours and never be bored and when I'm not with him, I feel...sad. I just constantly want to be by his side and if I'm not I want him to be thinking about me because that's exactly what I do."
You both entered your office, you walked up to your desk as you spoke, turning around and leaning against it to look at Eren. He had closed your door a little harder than necessary, the wood shaking against the frame as he crossed his arms and leaned his back on the door. He looked downright irritated and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.
"So why haven't you told him?"
You shrugged, "I think I've been pretty obvious about it, I'm always smiling when he's in the room, I always want to be with him, there's never a day where we don't walk together. I even wore this dress for him today."
You waved down at your figure, Eren's eyes looked over you twice and you jumped up on your desk, your thighs parting as you let the short skirt cover your panties and barely cover the tops of your thighs.
"I'm sure he'll love it." Eren spit out.
"I don't know..." You tilted your head, "Do you?"
Eren pushed himself off the door, going to your bookcase and letting his fingers brush the spines of the books, "It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not Mr. Pretty eyes. Sounds like a simpleton to me."
You let out an actual deep sigh and Eren met you with furrowed brows.
"What?"
"You're so fucking dense, Eren."
"What did I say?" He threw his hands up, "Just because I called him simple? I'm so sorry I don't care to hear you go on and on about this guy. I never thought I'd see you bend over backwards for some guy who opens doors for you. I thought you would have higher standards than that."
You let out a snort, "Keep talking Yeager, and I just might higher them."
"I mean I never thought looks would be so important to you. It's so-"
"So what?" Your tongue had a sharp edge that did not go unnoticed by Eren. He stood only a few feet from your desk, but you saw the awkward shift in his posture.
"Shallow." He spit out.
"Excuse me?" You gave him a look that said if he wouldn't apologize in the next ten seconds, he would surely live to regret it.
"What I mean is...what guy could possibly have this head over heels and you're just now telling me? I thought...I thought we-" He stopped, looking to the side and you relaxed before saying,
"We what, Eren?"
"I thought we had something special." He muttered. He looked to see your mouth opened in a small gasp and he began to turn to exit when you quietly beckoned him over.
"Eren...come here."
"No, I should g-"
"Please." You begged and the look in your eyes brought him to stand in front of you. Your hands reached for his shirt, yanking him forward and you hooked your legs around his calves. Eren gaped at you, not knowing what to do and say as you put one hand on his shoulder and the other cupped his cheek.
"You are such a dumbass." You laughed, "The person I've been going on and on about, that simpleton you bashed, is you. It's always been you, Eren."
It was like watching a light flicker on very very slowly, but once it was on you watched as embarrassment flooded Eren. His smile was sheepish and stupid as he stuttered over his words. His hands rested on your hips and you stroked his face from his temple to jaw as you asked,
"Do you maybe feel the same way?"
You didn't get a verbal answer, the sudden kiss Eren laid on you was an answer enough. His lips were soft and warm as they moved against your own, his tongue enveloped yours and you felt him lean more onto you. The moan that slipped out his mouth when you bit his bottom lip made something tighten in your stomach.
When you two finally broke apart you didn't miss the trail of saliva that connected the two of you and you whimpered for more. The second kiss was heavier, a clash of teeth and tongues as Eren feverishly wrestled to touch you everywhere his hands could reach. You felt him press against your core, the loud gasp you let out made him look at you in concern.
"Sorry, sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."
You shook your head as you met those green eyes that held you captive since day one, "More. I want more."
The smirk was something you had never seen, his eyes became half-lidded as Eren kissed your nose. Then your chin, then your neck. When he reached your collar, his finger hooked onto the top of your dress, pulling the fabric down as he kissed just above your breast.
"She wants more." He said to himself, the soft rasp in his voice made you attempt to close your legs. His hands pushed what little that had covered your legs up and Eren's fingers brushed your core.
The jump you gave made his smirk grow, "I haven't even touched you yet."
He saw the small patch of dampness on your panties, and before you could ask him what he was doing, you let out a sharp gasp when his fingers pushed the fabric to the side and he plunged two fingers into your pussy.
The moan he ripped from you was like music to his ears and as he began to slowly pump his fingers in and out he watched as your face became hot and red. It was uncomfortable as first, you could even say it hurt but that didn't stop you from rocking your hips up to meet his eager hands. You weren't entirely prepared as you felt a bit tense as Eren kissed your neck, the suckling on your flesh making small breathy whimpers leave your mouth. His other hand's fingers hovered over the buttons on the back of your dress and his eyes asked for permission as he glanced up at you.
A small tentative nod was all he received before he took out his hand from between your legs, his tongue skillfully licking the digits cleaned and you didn't think you would find such an act so erotic. You arm hooked around his neck as you brought him down to a kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips as he kissed you back eagerly, his fingers skillfully working the buttons on your dress and you wondered for a brief moment if he had ever done such an act before. You pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to lose focus or confidence while in the middle of being with Eren by letting unnecessary insecure creep into your heart. As if being able to read your mind, Eren said-
"Stop being in your head," A hard kiss against your lips, "Be here with me."
His nose rubbed sweetly against yours, fingers tilting your head up as you gave a hesitant nod. Your eyes wanted to focus anywhere but his eyes and you could felt warmth spread across your cheeks when the sleeves of your dress fell down your arms. The idea of letting Eren see all of you was as exciting as it was nerve-wrecking, the most he ever saw was your legs and back from that one time you walked out of the bath in only a towel. Seeing him shirtless was not new but you still felt your breath catch in your throat as you watched him yank the material off. Your hands explored the newly exposed skin, fingers dipping in every curve of muscle and your hand rested just above the waistband of his jeans. You noticed his breathing grow heavy, Eren's head falling forward on your exposed shoulder where you felt him nip and suck on the soft flesh. You returned the favor by kissing him on the chest, your eyes still casted downwards as you fumbled with the buckle on his belt, you let out a small curse from how hard your hands were shaking and Eren placed a gentle hand on top of yours, his eyes alight with amusement as his lips curved into a soft smile.
"Baby, relax." He murmured, he pushed your hands aside as he took over the task. You let out a deep breath as you heard the sound of his zipper being tugged down and you decided to be bold. You lowered the upper half of your dress, the cotton falling off your arms with ease and you blushed furiously once you remembered that you hardly ever wore bras and today was no different.
Your nipples were taut as you shivered from the cold air in your office and Eren stared at you in wonder his eyes raking your body as you looked to the side and brought your bottom lip in between your teeth.
"Fuck, can I touch you?" Eren blurted, his hands still near his trousers and you giggled when he added a last second, "Please."
Nodding, you figured it was time to stop feeling so shy. You had been dreaming about this moment for months, yet as the man you loved stood before you, eager to be with you, all you could think about was how scared you were that you wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.
One more glance at the way he watched you was enough for you to think, If he really didn't, he wouldn't be looking at me as if I put all the stars in the sky.
You felt the second wind of confidence hit you and you took Eren by surprise as you hooked your fingers on his belt loops and tugged the fabric down. You palmed him through the thin material of his briefs and his hips jerked from the contact before he melted against you. Lowering the elastic, your small hand wrapped itself around his shaft and you took a moment to admire his dick. It was something new and foreign to you, for a moment you wondered if all male penises looked like that but you pushed that thought aside as you found yourself not really wanting to ever know, as long as Eren's would be the only one you saw. You hand moved up and down, your thumb brushing across his tip as you swiped some of the liquid leaking out to use as lube.
You knew he was a few inches above average, the thickness was also enough to make you worry for a moment whether he would be able to fit in you as his fingers struggling to push inside of you were of any indication of how tight your body was. Either way you were determined to satisfy the both of you, the idea of him using you and watching his face come apart as he milked himself dry using only your pussy had your head feeling fuzzy with want. He rested his head on you, causing your body to lean back and you pressed one palm on your desk behind you and the other jerked him off a bit sloppily. His moans filled the space of your office, you secretly prayed to the gods that the scouts could be smart enough for once to not be injured or to be able to at least handle it themselves and your eyes flickered to the door for a moment.
"Eren," You murmured to the shell of his ear, his heavy breaths fanning across the span of your chest and you felt both your bodies getting hot. "The door, we need to lock the door."
His groan was the only response you got as he trailed kisses up your neck and shoulder, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, he was such a guy sometimes. You began to lower yourself from the desk before his hand on your leg suddenly halted your movements and he gave you a lazy smile, his half lidded eyes softly rolling as he let out an obnoxious groan of annoyance.
"I'll do it." He didn't even bother to tuck himself back into his briefs, his dick fully erect as he made way to your door. You felt your hand falling to your side and you bit your lip as you thought about what you wanted to do twice before letting your own hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side once more. You rubbed at your clit lazily as you softly moaned, your eyes closing at the sensation and you smiled when you heard the soft, "Shit." coming from a few feet ahead of you. Eren's eyes were transfixed on you, the way your head rolled back as your moans became louder and higher pitched was making him painfully hard and he wanted-no needed to be inside of you before he was sure he would come right then and there.
Your eyes were still closed when you felt him settle between your legs once more, eyes hazy and smile lazy as you felt him tug your panties down your legs. Your ass lifted briefly to help and you giggled when he grunted in annoyance from having to shuffle backwards to slip them off completely. He laughed with you as his hand cupped you by your jaw, lips finding yours in a tender kiss and the hand that had been rubbing at your clit was used to steady yourself by his shoulder. His muscles flexed under your touch and your breaths intermingled as he stared at you with such an intensity that you felt your stomach flip. You looked down to where he rubbed his length along your folds and gulped.
"I-I'm nervous." You admitted, cheeks blushing and Eren kissed your temple.
"It's okay, I'll take care of you. Do you trust me?" You gasped at the intensity in his eyes, Eren Yeager was one who never beat around the bush and you felt tears pool around your eyes as you nodded. Everything leading up to this moment overwhelmed you suddenly, losing your family, gaining your dream job, becoming independent so quickly, and falling in love with a man who turned into what so many feared but who let you place` flower crowns on his head during tea parties. He continued to maintain eye contact with you, your lips parting and eyes partly closing as he began to push past your labia. It all felt too much, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in that exact moment Eren pressed his tip into your passageway. There was a bit of resistance and the guttural moan he released made your eyes widen in an audible gasp, he looked ethereal with reddened cheeks, a slacked opened jaw, eyes that looked close to tears, and thin layer of sweat making his dark brown locks stick to his forehead.
He pushed another inch in, trying his best to not act too quickly or too harshly. All he wanted to do was fucking ruin you. Mark you as his by impregnating you and watching as you took every drop of his semen. It seemed you wanted it too as your hips jerked forward and took in another inch.
"Eren, please." You had no idea what you were asking for, he was being slow and gentle and as much as you appreciated his mindfulness, it had been six long months and if you had to go through another night of humping your pillow or rubbing one out with only fantasies of Eren touching you (Sometimes even Levi, depending on how much alcohol you had consumed) you were gong to scream.
Another inch and a deep chuckle was his response. Your eyes were set ablaze as the realization that he was teasing you.
"Please what baby?"
"Give it to me." You whispered, your hand tugging at his hair harshly and the hiss of pain he released was simultaneous when he completely thrusted his entire length into you. Your thighs jerked at the sudden intrusion and the cry you let out was loud enough that if anybody were nearby, the would have assumed someone struck you. Your hand smacked against his chest, your breath ragged as you attempted to give Eren an angry glance but your pussy betrayed you as it clenched hard around him.
You both released a gasp when Eren fully bottomed out inside you. His hips flush against your parted thighs and your foreheads pressed against one another, lips brushing but not kissing yet as you two came to terms of what was being done. You and Eren were one, there was no going back from what was about to transpire and you silently prayed that he wouldn't regret it later.
"Stop being in your head," He murmured against your mouth, eyes looking into yours, "Be here..."
He gave a heavenly thrust and you felt his arms wrap themselves around your waist as he forced you to fall back onto your desk with a small uff and your hands fell onto his shoulders. Your legs locked around his waist and the new angle caused him to be deeper inside you, but he continued to stare at your with that same admiration from that day he had met you.
"With me."
You nodded slowly, kissing Eren for what felt like the first time. A bit shyly and unsure as your mouth moved against his slowly, you savored the taste of tea and something sweet from his tongue and you let one of your hands hold him by his face as the other found solace in his hair.
Eren began to thrust into you, the rhythm a bit off at first as you two tried to find what worked and when he dipped his hips a little and heard the string of filthy words leaving your mouth, he gave a knowing smirk.
"Hmm, right there princess?"
You panted, your tongue lolling out as his began to go faster. One of your hands shot out to the side to brace yourself on something when Eren began to fuck you harder and instead you turned to see you hand knocked your bottle of ink over, the deep blue liquid was spilling everywhere but before you could let your brain process the mess, Eren began to suck on the flesh of your neck that you exposed when you moved your head. You moaned as you closed your eyes at the overwhelming sensations of it all, your hands grabbing at the muscles in his back and you arched your own and pressed your chest into him.
"Oh fuck," Eren moaned out, "This pussy is so good. You're taking me so well, princess."
"Yeah?" You panted out, "Going to cum in me, baby?"
Eren picked himself up on his forearms, too preoccupied with how pretty your tits looks bouncing with each thrust to notice the your hair was sprawled all over and the upper part of his arm was touching something wet, he figured it was the sweat you two were producing with your coupling.
"I'm gonna get you pregnant, make you mine forever."
"I'm yours!" You screamed as his hips slammed particularly harder down onto your own.
"Choke me, make me a mommy, cum in me, just please don't stop fucking me." You cried out, and a new sort of excitement showed in his eyes, his hand cupped just below your jaw and the light pressure he put on you made you moan louder.
The sounds of skin smacking, panting breaths, and heavy moans filled the air. Eren coaxing you to come all over his dick as you begged him to not pull out of you echoed of the walls of your office. You went on like that for a good while and you giggled in realization that your silent wish for everyone to leave the two of you alone for a while had come true.
Unbeknownst to you two, there had almost been three interruptions. The first being Captain Levi who wanted to ask if mixing his blood pressure medicine with wine would be too dangerous, but when he heard you scream he almost barged in before the unmistakable moan that followed made him fully come to a halt. He didn't even think twice about what was transpiring, briefly remembering that Eren was in fact with you this morning before quickly turning around and hauled ass as far from the hallway as he could. He wasn't sure where he was heading before he stumbled into Erwin's office, the commander looking up to see his captain look like he just ran a marathon.
"Levi? You look like you just saw a ghost?" His eyebrows creased, "Are you okay?"
"Yeager isn't as dense as we thought."
Eren stood to his full height, grabbing at your ankles and moving your legs onto his shoulders to they were fully parallel to his body. You let out another giggle at how your ankles were now on either side of his head, but the small kiss he gave your right one made you let out a noise of adoration. He gripped your hips, smiling as he noted the streaks of something blue all over your chest and neck but decided against telling you as your pussy began to pulsate around him. There was no way in hell he was going to stop you from orgasming.
The second time was Sasha and Connie as they wanted to ask if eating candies with the wrapper still on was anything they needed to worry about, but the sounds of your desk scraping across the floor with Eren commending you for being a good girl and taking him so well made the both of them stare at each other with wide eyes. The "Huh?"'s they exchanged were amusing to anyone else and Sasha grabbed Connie by the collar before they hightailed out of there. Connie wanting to see if Eren had really been capable of pulling you and Sasha calling it bullshit and stating that the real reason was that he wanted to see you naked.
His thrusts became wild and sloppy, the slushing sounds you two were making was the hottest sounds you ever heard. You held onto his wrists, your smile wide and beautiful and Eren knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.
"I'm not gonna last long," He let you know, you nodded as you reached down to rub your clit in circles.
"Fuck, you look so hot." He blurted, his cheeks a deeper red and you gave him another soft smile.
"Thanks, baby. You too." His abs were going to be the death of you and you hoped you would get the chance to suck him off later to lick them one by one in foreplay.
You felt him begin to twitch in you and you knew you were so close, your rubbing speeding up as Eren's thrusts were becoming more sporadic. The way his eyes began to roll upwards had you chanting,
"I'm-I'm cumming!" Your moan was breathy and high as you felt your release overwhelm your senses, you felt euphoria as you moaned so loud that Jean and Floch who didn't believe Connie when he said that Eren had managed to bed you stared at each other with wide eyes and gaped mouths as they stood outside your door. Their cheeks red as they rushed down the hallway as if their asses were on fire, not even halfway down the stairs when they felt their collars yanked at so harshly they almost trampled down, Captain Levi's glare knowing as he began to reprimand them for being nosy pricks.
Eren's cock dove into you hard and you felt him pulsate as he shot long ropes of cum into you, his essence overflowing as he filled you to the brim and painted your insides white.
His moan was unbelievably loud and low, the "I love you." That followed didn't go unnoticed by you and the smile he gave, made you realize how much he meant it.
"I love you." Your answered back, he pushed your thighs to your chest when he lowered himself to kiss you. His cock softening inside you and he slowed his thrusts down and milked himself dry. He tapped his tip on your sensitive clit, making sure he was empty before tucking himself back into his boxers and jeans. The creampie in you was beginning to ooze out and he used his two fingers to push it back in, your hips bucking at the intrusion and you whined about your sensitivity.
You sat up, your hand going to fix your hair, only groaning slightly when you felt the ink on some strands already drying. You huffed before jumping down and fixing your dress. Eren was putting his shirt back on, his back slightly turned to you and your eyes widened in embarrassment at seeing the blue ink in what was obviously your finger prints streaked all over. You looked down and saw that it had well faded from your hands, transferring to your lover who put on his jacket. You shrugged, figuring no one would see it and you could wash your hands later. Your hair would be a bit tricky to explain but you would be home to shower soon anyway, which reminded you-
"Do you want to stay over tonight?" You blurted, scaring Eren as his eyes widened, you bit the inside of your cheek and fumbled with your fingers.
He smiled, walking up to you and kissing you on the lips before replying, "I would love to. I have to do some work today, and pack an overnight bag but I'll be home by dinner." His eyes looked you over, stifling a laugh when he saw the marks of blue ink on your neck, debating on telling you but not being able to deny how cute they looked on you, a gentle reminder of what happened just moments ago and an odd turn on for him to think of it as him marking you as his, the lovebite also on the side making him watch you with love.
You nodded before giving a follow-up question, "Chicken or fish?"
"Fish." He nodded, you grabbed a few papers from your desk drawer and Eren asked if you were all set before taking your hand into his as the two of you began to walk out the office, you mentioned having to speak to Erwin about the cadet recovering from a broken limb and Eren listened patiently, your hands swinging in between the two of you and you both relished at how easy it felt to transition into a life of domestication together. He walked you to Erwin's office, his knuckles knocking on the door before a loud, "One minute!" replied.
You both shared a look of confusion before shrugging and stepping to the side. You fixing his hair and Eren's hand resting on top of your hips when the office door opened. You both turned to see Jean and Floch who sported sullen faces, their arms swinging in front of them as if they were children just denied a cone of ice cream.
"Boys?" You called, your free hand interlocking with Eren who stood in place as you took a step toward the pair. "Everything alright?"
They looked between you and Eren, Jean seeing the ink marks on your neck and seeing Eren's hair haphazard was enough to make him look to the floor, his cheeks reddening and Eren could only smirk. Floch was the opposite, he couldn't take his eyes off you as his face held a permanent grimace and you wondered if he was constipated.
"Baby," Eren called, tugging you back to him and Jean scoffed, Possessive ass is already showing her off. He thought to himself.
"They just got yelled at by Erwin, whatever they did was obviously bad, just leave them be."
You nodded in understanding, giving them a comforting smile and Floch didn't miss the knowing look in Eren's eyes.
"Sorry to hear about that. If you two ever need anything, you know where my office is."
"Yeah, that's the problem." Captain Levi's voice came from the doorway. Jean and Floch mumbled a quick goodbye before scurrying away and you couldn't help but fall into deeper confusion.
The captain and Eren exchanged looks before Eren bent to kiss your cheek.
"I got to go. I'll see you later, princess." You blushed at the nickname and public display, murmuring a soft okay in reply as your boyfriend? walked away from you.
You gave Levi a smile which he didn't return, you didn't miss the small blush on his cheeks and you figured it was from seeing such intimacy from Eren. You were almost positive Levi was still a virgin. Walking into Erwin's office, you all but skipped the man's desk, falling beside him and giving him a bright smile which he returned.
"Hey Erwin, just wanted to update you on the cadet's recovery plan. He should be back in training in a few months if he listens to my instructions, think you can help me?"
"Sure what do you need?"
"Well, I'd need you to sign these release forms first." You shrugged putting the papers in front of him, you looked at his desk and grabbed the pen, "Where's your ink?"
The chuckle the two men gave you made your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Seems like you're wearing it, Doc." Levi's eyes flickered to your neck.
You let out a gasp and your hands slapped to cover you and the laughs that followed only made you blush furiously.
Dammit, You thought, Eren you idiot.
#eren smut#eren jaeger#eren x y/n#eren jeager x reader#eren x you#attack on titan eren#eren jäger#eren aot#snk#shingeki no kyojin#aot smut#attack on titan#aot#loveanoutcast original#eren fluff#eren yeager#eren yaeger x y/n#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger x you#eren yaeger imagine#aot x reader#aot fanfiction#shingeki no kyoujin manga#shingeki no kyoujin x reader#snk x reader
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Settling In: Family Dinner
Inspired by @i-cant-sing
If there was any word to describe the past week, you would choose quiet. A schedule was set for your time spent here and rarely it would deviate. Rei would wake you up to watch the sunrise with you and you’d get ready for the day with her. The outfit she chooses always sits on the bed waiting for you while she does your hair. Mornings are spent in either the sun room or the library, with Rei always watching. Though, she leaves to cook. She always left you to cook. If nobody else was home, that means you’d be left alone. Fuyumi would come by for dinner some nights and take your afternoons. Enji wasn’t home during the day, but joined you all for dinner every night before you could retire to your new room. Even if the schedule is slightly smothering, it’s easy to keep up with.
There were no chores or responsibilities for you to do, unlike your old homes. It was relaxing—too relaxing. There was no stress, so you created some. Tonight, instead of Rei, Enji, and maybe Fuyumi, the other two Todoroki children were coming over. You don't know what to expect, so you stress over it.
Fuyumi warned you that they weren’t as accepting as she was, that they weren’t as involved with the family as she was. You don’t want to make a terrible first impression. You don’t want your new siblings to hate you.
Fuyumi comes home earlier than her siblings, coming immediately home from work. Meetings, she says, that’s why she couldn’t have come sooner. You remember that she’s a school teacher. It’s easy to imagine what those meetings are about. Though, she doesn’t give you time to daydream about her, as she’s asking you questions.
“So Y/N, you’ve been here a week? Have you been enjoying your time here?” Fuyumi does your hair, extremely careful not to hurt you. She’s taken this responsibility from Rei for today. Rei’s been busy at the store and in the kitchen all day, leaving you with Fuyumi. You don’t mind that; she’s nice.
“It’s quiet.” You don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but it’s the truth.
Fuyumi takes it well, “That’s good. Mom picked out some good books for you, did she?”
The library in the Todoroki estate may be massive, but most of those books Rei says are too mature for you. She’s regulated you to books below your reading level. They’re for children younger than you. But she doesn’t like to watch television and the laptop they’ve provided has only been gathering dust.
“If I’m honest, they’re a little boring.”
Fuyumi chuckles, “She’s a little out of touch from reality at times. I’ll grab you some books you’ll probably like better. I used to do a lot of reading when I was your age.”
“What’d you read?”
“Romance, mostly.” Fuyumi admits, “occasionally fantasy. I wasn’t trying to read anything too dark and neither should you.”
Too dark. Too mature. You wonder where that threshold is for them. You suspect it’s a lot higher than most people’s standards. You don’t dwell on this thought too much longer. Finding faults in your caretaker’s lifestyle isn’t the best way to stay in their good graces.
“How was school this past year?” She rests both hands on your shoulders. She’s done with your hair, but she isn't letting you go. You could probably move her to get out, but there’s no need. Fuyumi is nice and interested in what you have to say. Why would you leave her?
“Alright.” You reply. Even if it isn’t the truth, you wouldn’t speak it, “Don’t know where I’m heading now, though. We’re too far from my old school.”
“Father mentioned Somei and Mom talked about homeschooling.” Fuyumi replies, “We’ll have to see which one concedes first.”
You can’t imagine Rei fighting Enji on anything, especially something as trivial as where to take you to school. Though, you’d prefer if she concedes. Homeschooling seems like a nightmare.
“Oh, alright.” You respond. There’s nothing else to say on the matter and you hope Fuyumi lets up soon because you don’t know what to talk about anymore. Almost like a savior, a knock is placed on your door. It isn’t as strong as Enji’s—Fuyumi and Rei don’t knock at all—so, you assume it’s one of the brothers.
Fuyumi calls out to the person on the other side for you, “Hold on!” She finally lets up to open the door. You fiddle with the edge of your dress. The tulle is a bit itchy, but the smooth, holographic hearts covering the entire dress provide a nice change of texture.
You look up to see a tall, white haired guy. He’s broad, built like Enji as opposed to Rei. Though, the rest of his features seem to come from her. He stands in the doorway looking at you, then back at Fuyumi—who’s back to holding you on your shoulders again, causing you to continue to sit still in the vanity’s stool.
He takes another look at you and your fingers fiddle with the dress more. He’s unnerving and hasn’t said a thing he walked in. You start to speak, but he looks up at Fuyumi and asks, “What kind of quirk bullshit has justified this?”
That’s not what you expected.
You think to object, no quirk stuff has happened here—at least, that you know of. Though, Fuyumi immediately comes to your defense, “Natsuo! You can’t just ask something like that! Have some respect.”
“Do you really expect there isn’t an ulterior motive behind this.” Natsuo replies, “You know how he is with quirks.”
“He’s gotten better!”
“Prove it.”
“Uhhh, Natsuo, sir.” You break up the siblings' argument, “No quirk stuff has happened, really.”
He grabs a hold of your arm, looking at it thoroughly before heading to the next one. You don’t know what he’s looking for. Bruises? Burns? Scars? You have none of them from your time here.
You wouldn’t have anything quirk related anyways—you’re quirkless.
“Is this the lie he’s told you to say?” Natsuo asks, “You aren’t going to be able to lie. I see through his bullshit.”
“Natsuo!”
You want this conversation to end. Natsuo’s and Fuyumi’s hands are both icy cold and you don’t like the attention. Plus their argument is painful to listen too, especially considering it’s about you.
“Natsuo, sir…” You say, “there’s no quirk… anything. Really! I don’t have a... quirk.”
He lets go of your arm and it drops to your side. He stands up again. Fuyumi lets your shoulders go, moving to your side.
“Hey, chin up kiddo!” Fuyumi replies, smiling her everbright smile, “there’s nothing wrong with that!”
You didn’t even realize you were staring at the ground, but your feet soon come into view through watery eyes. Fuyumi’s fingers wipe away the tear that slips through.
“Hey, sorry kid.” Natsuo’s hands are in the pocket of his jeans and his shoulders are raised, “I have the habit of assuming the worst.”
“It’s fine.” You reply, laughing through the soft tears, “I should be over it by now, anyways.”
“Let’s head out of here.” Fuyumi takes your hand, leading you out of your room, “Father should be bringing Sho home soon. He’ll just love you, he won't be able not to."
Despite the ominous nature of Fuyumi’s statement, you let yourself willingly be led to the living room. Besides, where else would you go, anyways?
___
Gratefully, the three of you leave your room. The room was getting tense between the sibling pair. You don’t want to be the reason they fight, do you? They always look so close in the photos on the wall—even if nobody looks happy in those photos.
Natsuo leads the way. He walks with his shoulders back and his head held high. He has confidence, something you’ve started to lack now that you’re around all these powerful quirk users. You feel the cool air radiating from in between him and Fuyumi. She walks right behind you. If you stopped, she’d crash right into her.
But you don’t stop. You walk down the hallway and head towards the living room. There, two figures step in through the door. The first is the boy with half red hair, half white hair. The photos on the wall show him to be significantly younger and without the bright red scar covering one eye. He wears U.A.’s school uniform. One of the old children in your last home went there as well. The other person is Enji. He’s in his hero uniform still—flames and all.
Before anyone can say anything, Natsuo speaks up, “Father’s not using her. I already asked. She’s quirkless.”
He doesn’t say it in a negative way, but him bringing it up at all stings. You’re inadequate compared to them. They all scream of powerful quirks, but you don’t even have a quirk to begin with.
And now, you’re getting the suspicion that quirks are what this family truly cares about. Which leaves you in a terrible position—quirkless, surrounded by powerhouses.
“Alright.” Shoto deadpans, then slips his shoes and coat off. A cool wind blows in from outside, but it’s no different than standing between the cold Todoroki children.
Enji asks his sons, “Do you really think so low of me?”
“Yes.” Natsuo and Shoto reply instantly.
Luckily, Rei comes to your rescue, guiding you to a seat at the kitchen table. Whilst they talked, she set everyone’s plates wordlessly. She cooked this meal for everyone and you feel a slight pang of guilt, knowing that six mouths is a lot to cook for. You had smaller homes than that, which sometimes saw it too tiring to cook for their size. And Rei cooked a lot—much more than she’s cooked for the other meals you’ve had here.
Your plate is filled. You can’t imagine that you’ll eat all of this, but you’ll eat as much as you can. You wouldn’t want to make Rei sad, now would you?
“Thank you Rei, for dinner.” You reply, before taking a bite. As you sigh in pleasure, Rei’s other children echo their thanks. The food is so good that you block out all sound in order to focus upon it.
“Y/N, are you there?” Fuyumi jokes from her seat beside you.
“Oh! Uh, yeah.” You exclaim, then ask, “Did you need something?”
“Father just asked how your day was.” Fuyumi replies.
You tell him, “It was good.” He sits at the head of the table, just like last time. You don’t sit next to him, Fuyumi does. You sit directly one seat to the left than the seat you’ve been sitting in. You don’t mind, especially because to the other side of you is the one brother you’ve barely heard speak: Shoto.
He looks at you—he’s watching you. You can see him do it out of the corner of your eye. It’s unnerving to say the least. But you put your head down and continue eating, making sure to pay attention. Luckily, they don’t ask you too many questions. Most of the attention is on Shoto and Natsuo. They’ve returned home—the family all together, Rei calls it. You don’t ask about the other boy in the photos. He’s obviously not a part of the family anymore.
“May I be excused?” You ask as soon as you're finished eating, not keen to just sit there and listen to their conversations.
Enji doesn’t hold you back this time, giving you a silent nod. You take your plate to the kitchen and then head to your room, making sure not to bother them anymore. You don’t want to be seen as a bother anymore than you already are, do you?
#platonic yandere#yandere mha#yandere bnha#reader insert#mha fanfic#bnha fanfic#yandere todoroki family#yandere todoroki clan
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The SDR2 Cast as Things My Roommates and I Have Said: 3rd Year Edition
Hajime: Well, techincally, great success is possible if your standards for judging me are low enough.
Komaeda: Every morning I wake up to the birds outside my window singing and think, “Wow... God really should not have let me live another day.”
Chiaki: That’s right, bitch. My favorite villager asked to move out and I only cried twice. I am a hardcore gamer!
Mikan: I don’t even know why I’m crying at this point. I just had nothing better to do with my time.
Mahiru: Wait, I need to take a photo of this moment like a mom on her kid’s first day of school.
Fuyuhiko: *eating cereal out of a plastic cup* I’m not admitting that I am short... but I am going to need you to put the bowls on a lower shelf.
Peko: Ah, but what is life if not the chance to die meaninglessly for someone else?
Gundham: Why doesn’t Bunny the talking dog have buttons that can say “mortal chains” and “exorcism”? These are the basics of language.
Sonia: We’re going to put [other roommate] in her own corner— the religious corner— and then the Cool Kids™️ and I are going to talk about the practicalities of cult sacrifice.
Kazuichi: *looking at a chair that came pre-assembled* Look at us! We built this all by ourselves! Go, team!
Hiyoko: I hate you! I hate your face! And I hate Matthew Morrison! That’s not relevant, I just want to state it as much as possible.
Nekomaru: YEAH! Let’s go, ladies, it’s time to exercise those delts! *mumbled* Whatever those are...
Twogami: I don’t even know who you are anymore. Wait... or was it who I am? What was the line, I forgot it—
Ibuki: I’m gay. You’re gay. She’s gay. What are we even doing here?
Teruteru: I’m not saying your soup is bad! I’m just saying I genuinely don’t think it can be classified as soup anymore.
Akane: How do I get this pasta weight to go directly to my boobs... asking for a friend, of course.
Bonus -
Monokuma: How dare you changed the rules of the game I spent about 15 seconds thinking of? I’m offended.
Monomi: *in a Hot Topic* I don’t even want to be here!! I thought we were going to Build-A-Bear!
AI Junko: And so I was like, fuck it. They’re all ready to die anyway, right?
Kamakura: I could probably kill God if I was interested in doing anything.
#incorrect danganronpa quotes#source: me#mod clover ☘️#hajime hinata#nagito komaeda#chiaki nanami#mikan tsumiki#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#mahiru koizumi#peko pekoyama#gundham tanaka#twogami#sonia nevermind#hiyoko saionji#ibuki mioda#kazuichi soda#nekomaru nidai#akane owari#monokuma#monomi#junko enoshima#izuru kamakura
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