The Long Island crew receive a provocative picture from MC
Anya took one last swig of wine before setting the bottle down and standing in front of the mirror. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to make it look more voluminous, and smiled when her raven locks fell down in sultry waves around her shoulders. She rarely fussed over her appearance, and almost never bragged about how she looked, but at that moment - that exceptional moment of drunkenness and lust - she thought she looked damn fine. She was clad in a lacy and risque black ensemble; the bodice pushed snugly around her breasts, her panties hugged her hips perfectly, her stockings ran down her legs, sticking to her like second skin, and her red bottom heels made her feel feel ridiculously powerful for some unknown reason.
Now that her outfit was done, the only problem left to tackle was how to pose. She wanted to look sexy and inviting, but also classy. Anya spent a considerable amount of time awkwardly posing on the bed in different positions before she finally gave up and googled pictures of models posing. She found one which she thought was achievable and set the camera on the desk in front of her. The bed was deliberately unmade just for the occasion, and the room was darkly lit by a number of strategically placed candles. She positioned herself on the edge of the bed and sat slightly sideways, with one leg bent and the other jutting out gracefully, accentuating the length of it. Anya looked at the camera, and as the red light blinked in time with the countdown before it took a shot, she thought of her husband. An unquenchable heat coursed through her body, clouding her eyes with lust and making her smirk.
She walked over to the camera and checked the shot. It was perfect. She gave a low, husky chuckle as she took out the memory card and hooked it up to her laptop.
Yamato sighed, rubbing his temples as he finished grading another disappointing test paper. Do any of these damn kids listen to him in class? He had half a mind to take these papers home and use them as kindling for their fireplace. The buzz of his phone disturbed the silence of the room, and upon seeing the email notification from Anya, his eyebrows furrowed. ‘She usually calls,’ he thought to himself. It would be the last coherent thought he would have for the next minutes; the picture that filled his screen wiped his mind clean of any rationality. His wife was clad in the most precious, sultry lingerie he had ever seen her wear, and as if that wasn’t enough, the look on her face made him feel warm and his pants tighter. His hands shook as he texted her. “What are you doing?” It did not take long for Anya to reply. “You, if you get back here fast enough.” Without another word, Yamato gathered his students’ test papers, shoved them into a drawer, and walked out of the faculty room as fast as he could. He kept a straight face as he passed by and greeted his colleagues along the way, strategically positioning his briefcase in front of him to hide his raging erection. He finally reached his car and drove out of the parking lot like a mad man, muttering about how Anya was trying to fucking kill him all the way home.
Ren adjusted the microscope, keeping his eyes on the specimen of fungi he was studying. His research on it had been taking up most of his time and attention, much to his guilt. Anya had reassured him time and time again that she understood, but he knew that she was nonetheless disappointed. It had been months since he’d taken her out for a date, and even longer since they’d been intimate. ‘Just a few more days,’ he thought, trying to comfort himself. ‘Just a few more days, and this will be done.’ He just hoped Anya could wait a bit longer. An email notification appeared on his phone, and when he opened it, he knew his wife had finally had it and could not wait a second longer. His screen was filled with the image of her beautiful posed body, accentuated with dark shadows from the ambient lights of candles. She was wearing the most alluring lacy ensemble he’d ever set eyes on; all thoughts he had a while ago about his research disappeared at the sight of Anya in all her seductive glory. A short message came with the picture. “Just in case you need a break.” Ren took his lab coat off and carelessly flung it over his chair. “Not staying late tonight, Ren?” his colleague asked from the table beside him. Ren smiled politely and shook his head. ‘Not here, at least,’ he thought.
Saeki tried to focus on the task at hand. Any other day, he would have enjoyed talking to countless of beautiful women to shortlist for the show, but not right now. He kept remembering Anya, who, in a jealous fit after knowing what he would be doing, locked herself up in their room without saying another word to him. He was hoping that this was something that would pass once she had cooled down. But, so far, Anya had not called or texted him, and he was getting nervous. ‘I should contact her,’ Saeki thought. He turned to the producer and asked to be excused. Just as he was leaving the room, his phone buzzed, notifying him of a new email. It was from Anya. Saeki raised a brow and opened it hesitantly. What greeted him was something he never expected to see. His wife was posed on their bed, breathtakingly delicious in a lacy black number that left nothing for the imagination. Her face was dark and inviting, and he was instantly drawn in. He did not know what this meant, but if this was Anya’s idea of extending the olive branch, then he’d better start making her jealous more often. “I’m on my way home,’ he texted, heading out of the studio without bothering to let the others know.
Takao let out a sigh of relief as he finally closed his report on the case he’d been working on for weeks now. It had been a tough one, but they were able to defend their client successfully and the job was done. He thought of Anya, and in his excitement, took out his phone to call her. He saw an email notification from her, which surprised him. He opened it, and all the blood left his head…and went to another head. Anya was posed her body invitingly in the most stunning lingerie, seducing him through the screen. Along with the picture, she sent a brief message: you deserve a long-awaited break, attorney. Takao clenched his jaw tightly, breathing hard as he tried to abate the lust that flooded his veins and coursed through his body. It had been too long since they had been intimate, and with this image feeding his libido, he wasn;t sure if he could be as gentle with her as he usually was. But maybe that was just what she wanted. “I’ll be home soon,” he replied.
Yuta groaned, pulling at his hair in frustration. He was at the Kunian, trying to write a new skit for their comedy show next week, and he had zilch. Inspiration needed to strike him like lightning fast or he would be in big trouble; he depended on his shows for money, and he wouldn’t like to burden Anya with covering most of the expenses at home. The thought of Anya gave him the sudden need to contact her. He found that she was online and chatted her up. “How are you doing, Ani?” he asked. “I’m fine. How about you?” she replied. “Not good. My brain’s a desert.” “Well, I hope this helps you.” To his surprise, Anya sent an email. Yuta gasped loudly upon opening it, his whole body freezing at the image of his wife posed like a sexy pin up girl. Her face lacked the usual sarcastic calmness she usually had on; instead she looked feral, and inviting, and very, very hungry. For what, he already knew, and it made his head swim. “I think I’ll continue working at home,” Yuta typed in fast before shutting his laptop close and bolting out of the bar, ignoring his friends’ calls.
“Why the long face, Kuni?” Saeki asked, leaning against the counter beside Kunihiko. The latter had his arms crossed, and his posture slouched with the heaviness of a man with a problem. When he didn’t answer, Saeki snickered. “So, it’s Anya.” Kunihiko raised an eyebrow at him, ready to retort, but no words came. He just didn’t have it in him today. Instead, he just sighed and took his hat off, running a hand through his wavy hair in a dejected manner. God, only Anya could make him feel this pathetic; but he couldn’t blame her. She was right. She wasn’t some naive little girl, so he had to stop treating her like one. His phone buzzed loudly on the counter, making him and the others turn towards it. It was an email from Anya. “Ah, reconciliation is sweet,” Saeki purred, pushing the phone towards Kunihiko, who grabbed it eagerly. He opened it, his hope and excitement quickly disappearing and turning into something more…primal. Of all the things he expected his wife was capable of doing, he never - not in a million years - would have thought she could do this. Anya had sent him a picture of herself in a provocative pose, wearing the most daring black number he had ever seen her in. She looked ravishing and painfully delicious. Along with the picture, Anya had sent a short message. “How innocent do I look now?” “Sweet Jesus.” Kunihiko was snapped out of his lustful reverie by Yamato’s breathy gasp to find his friends gathered around him, all eyes trained at his phone. “What the hell - seriously?” Kunihiko cried out, covering his phone with his hand and giving each of them a threatening glare. They backed away immediately, throwing him teasing smiles despite the blush on their own faces. “So, I take it you’re going home right now, eh, Kuni?” Akito sniggered. Kunihiko frowned at him, but did not say anything as he walked out of the bar.
The models rushed pass him, laughing among themselves as they celebrated the success of another show. A few of them thanked him for his work on their makeup, and he replied politely to each one. The room was bustling with statuesque women wearing elaborate haute couture, and the scene was a colorful mess of glitter and sparkles. Akito took out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Anya to let her know the show was done. “Congratulations, sweetheart, but you’re still up for another show,” Anya texted back to him. “What do you mean?” he replied. His phone buzzed. Anya had sent him an email. He opened it and held his breath. He was surrounded by a sea of models in daring ensembles, but none of them knocked the wind out of him the way his wife did in a simple, lacy number, posed provocatively on their bed. She was a vixen, and he was smitten - mind, body and soul. “I’ll be home soon,” was all he texted back as he waded his way through the crowd, trying to leave as fast as possible. One of the models clasped his arm and asked if he wasn’t staying for the after party. He smiled and replied that he had his own party to go to.
Kyoichi growled in frustration as he threw his papers away from his desk, sending them scattering all over the floor. It had been two days since he and Anya had last spoken, and it was getting on his nerves. He couldn’t sleep, or eat, or do his goddamn job. He can negotiate treaties with other countries but not with his own wife? Unable to take it any longer, he took out his phone to call Anya. Just as he was about to ring up her number, an email notification arrived. It was from her. Kyoichi scrambled to open it, nervous at what she had to say. There was no message, only a picture of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Anya was wearing lingerie he had ever seen her wear before, seducing him through the screen with dark and lustful eyes. He did not know if she was still mad, but he would take this as an invitation - and one he certainly wouldn’t turn down. And in the case that she was still angry with him, then at least he finally had the opportunity to appease her.
The convention had gone on longer than Haruka had expected, and as much as he wanted to leave, he had to keep up with the formalities, seeing as most of his family’s business partners were present. He kept smiling and nodding politely at every conversation, but his mind was somewhere else. He had cancelled a date with Anya over this, and the guilt was clawing at him the entire day. His wife assured him that it was okay, but he knew better. When the chance came, he snuck to the bathroom and drew out his phone to call her. There was an email from her, which confused him because she usually called. He opened it, curiosity quickly turning into shock, then to lust as the picture that filled his screen drew him close like a black hole. Anya was dressed provocatively in lacy lingerie, posed on their bed like a work of art. She looked breathtaking and painfully tempting. His whole body ached with the longing to touch her, to hold her, to make love to her. But this confounded convention was showing no signs of ever ending. He stayed in the bathroom, thinking hard, before he finally decided to ditch the event and fly home, consequences be damned. He’d explain things to his father tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to leave and indulge himself in a different kind of flower.
P.S. I attached a quick sketch of how I think Anya had posed. :)
my friend went japan so i asked her to help me get more of voltage bromide. yea, add on to my collection, burning a bigger hole in my wallet. i feel like i wanna collect all? 😂😂😂😂😂 need a bigger album to store all my bromides
You dug through the clothes drawer. A towel was wrapped around your figure, having just stepped out of the shower. Due to your recently busy schedule, you were behind on laundry. Now you didn’t have any clothes to wear. Dirty clothes weren’t an option. You sighed. Then Ren’s white shirt peeking out of the closet caught your eye. Biting your lip, you decided it was the best choice. After tossing the wet clothes into the dryer, you headed off into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Ren’s shirt just barely covered your underwear. Dinner was almost finished, when you heard Ren’s voice call out, “I’m home” You panicked. There was no way to get to the bedroom or bathroom without him seeing you. You were trapped. “Something smells good” Ren followed his nose into the kitchen. He froze when he saw you. You felt your face flush. “Is that my shirt?” He asks, pointing to your torso. You jumped to explain the situation. “I was a little behind on laundry and didn’t have anything to wear after taking a shower. I thought I’d wear your shirt until the clothes were done” As if on cue, the dryer went off, signaling the completion of it’s cycle. “I’m okay with it” Ren said. You were surprised at his agreement with your wardrobe choice. You rushed past him, mumbling, “I’m going to go get the clothes” Ren grabbed your wrist. “Wait” He said. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “You should wear my shirt more often. It looks good” He pulled back. “I’ll let you finish the laundry” He said. Ren went back into the kitchen with an almost seductive smile on his face. You knew your cheeks were still bright red and went to get the now dry clothes.
A month. He had been gone for a month. The new show Yuta booked took him off on location. You had missed him from the first day he was gone. Having just finished a brief conversation with him, you place your phone on the bedside table. You looked at the photo in a frame. It was you and Yuta smiling and doing peace signs with your fingers. It was taken when you two began the scary wife show. Because it had become such a special memory, Yuta decided to place the picture in a frame. You smile at it. Then you noticed one of Yuta’s hoodies on a hanger. He had left it saying that you could wear it if you get lonely. You thought he was joking, but it was still here after he left, and you knew he was serious. You decided to take him up on that offer. Taking the blue hoodie off the hanger, you slid your arms into the baggy sleeves. It was warm and held Yuta’s scent, which you happily breathed in. You laid down on the bed and pretended that it was your husband holding you. In no time, you drifted off to sleep. You were awoken by the feeling of the bed shifting. You drowsily opened your eyes to see Yuta sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing at you lovingly. “Yuta!” You exclaim, sitting up. “Sorry, I must’ve woken you up” He apologized. “Don’t worry about that! Why are you home early?” You ask. “You don’t seem very happy to see me” He pouted. “I’m sorry!” You stand, Yuta following suit, and embraced him. “I’ve missed you” You say into his shoulder. He repeats the same phrase back to you. “I worked really hard and spent extra hours working. And we were able to finish early” He said. “Awww, Yuta” You purred. You squeezed him a bit tighter, filled with gratitude for such a sweet husband. He pulled back and gestured to the hoodie you were wearing, which matched his. “You look so cute in that” He says. No mirror required to know that your cheeks just turned pink. “I should start lending you my hoodies. You look so cute” He flashed you his boyish smile. “I’m not cute” You blush and cross your arms. The sleeves covered your hands when you did that. “You’re just making yourself look cuter” Yuta teased. You gave up and accepted his kiss on your forehead.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you buttoned up the white shirt Yamato usually wore to bed. You two had gotten into a fight. Yamato’s been sleeping on the couch. Secretly, you missed him. You wished you had apologized right away. Unfortunately, the fight had been going on for a couple days. You two were locked in a cold war. You didn't back down now because then Yamato’s point would be proven, and knowing him, he would hold it over your head for a while. You wanted him to come kiss you, sweep you off your feet and toss you onto the bed. There was no way he’d do that now though. In order to soothe your heart a little, you decided to sleep in one of his nightshirts tonight. After all, there was no way he’d see you. Since this war began, Yamato made it a point to get up first, make breakfast for the two of you, then leave before you awoke. Enveloped in the smooth material, you peeked around the corner to confirm your husband’s unconsciousness, then walked into the bedroom. You slid into bed and did your best to fall asleep. It was tough trying to drift off with the man you’d grown so used to sleeping beside gone. The electronic clock read 2:31 am. By now, you were just laying here, eyes closed, waiting for sleep to come. Suddenly, you heard the door open quietly. Assuming it was Yamato, you kept your eyes closed. Light footsteps made their way over to you. They stopped. You felt a hand run through your hair. It was the lightest touch. He was being careful not to wake you. Since you didn’t stir, he must’ve thought you were passed out. “I miss you Pouty” He whispered. You almost opened your eyes at his sentence, but forced them to stay closed. “I want to share a bed again” His hand moved to your cheek. “I want to make up” He withdrew his hand. The footsteps started once more, getting quieter as they walked away from you and out of the bedroom. You heard the door click shut. Immediately, you sat up. He feels the same way you do. You hurried to get out of bed and open the bedroom door. Yamato wasn’t visible. Moving closer toward the living room, you saw the light in the kitchen on and heard water. Running into the room, Yamato was getting a drink of water. He saw you and almost choked on his clear drink. “Pouty!” He exclaimed. “You want to make up?” You ask. His cheeks flushed. “Y-You heard that?!” He asked, to which you nodded. He put down his glass as you walked over to him, embracing him in a hug. “I’ve missed you too” You confess. He wraps his arms around you. That was considered the end to your feud. Although you never did admit he was right. So technically you won…
Saeki had been talking about how ‘soft’ and 'light’ his new white shirt was. You decided to try it on to see if this shirt was as great as he made it out to be. After bringing him his usual cup of coffee and making sure he would be busy for a while, you went into the bedroom. Taking the white fabric in hand, you took off your blouse and replaced it with the shirt. Running your hands over the material, you couldn’t deny it was very soft and had a relaxing feel to it. You walked around the room, loving how the shirt’s hem swayed around your thighs. The pajama shorts you were wearing barely poked out from the bottom. “Alright, that’s enough” You said to yourself, admitting you’d gotten enough enjoyment out of the shirt. Once the top two buttons we undone, you began undoing the third. Suddenly, the door flew open. “Honey, where’s my…” Saeki stopped when he laid eyes on you. Saeki had gotten you to wear one of his shirts before. To see you do it voluntarily must’ve been a treat for his eyes. “Wow, Honey, are you trying to seduce me?” He smirked, walking closer to you. “N-No! I just wanted to try it on to see if it felt as great as you said it did” You quickly explained. You continued backing up to avoid him until your back hit the wall. Saeki put his hands against it on each side of you, pining you so you were unable to escape. “You look very alluring right now, Honey. This is a good look for you” He says lowly, sending a shiver down your spine. “Um, don’t you have to work on your script?” You said in an attempt you drive him away. He dropped his arms and looked away, pouting. “You’re right. I don’t want to just leave you. It feels like a wasted opportunity” He says. Saeki waited a beat before looking back up at you with that same smirk of his. “I guess you’ll have to come with me” He says, taking your wrist in his grasp. Before you could protest, your husband whisked you away into his study. He had a very hard time focusing on his script after that.
As you stood there ironing Takao’s shirt that he wore to work, you received a text saying he was on his way home now. You sent a reply then went back to ironing. You couldn’t help but notice the shirt’s crisp feeling. It was warm from the iron. You always thought Takao looked so handsome whenever he wore his suit. The playful part of your mind got the best of you, and you slipped the shirt on over your current top. You walked around the living room, having fun with wearing your husband’s shirt. It was comfortable and you understood how Takao could wear this almost everyday. You, however, hadn’t planned for him to get home so quickly. He walked though the door. “I’m home” He said. While he was taking his shoes off, you tried to unbutton the shirt as fast as you could. Before you could get to the last button, Takao turned and saw you. “You’re wearing my shirt?” He asks. “I-I was just trying it on for a second” You blush as you slide off the blue shirt. “You don’t have to be embarrassed” He said. Looking up, you see your husband’s warm smile. “I have no problem with you wearing my shirt” He walks up to you, casually running a hand though your hair. You felt the heat in your cheeks begin to fade. “You should actually do it more often. You look cute” He says, then walks off into the bedroom to change. As embarrassing as it was, you don’t regret letting your playful side come out.
Thanks for reading this! Sorry if Takao’s was bad, I wasn’t sure how to portray him in this scenario. And Yamato’s and Yuta’s were a bit long, but I started writing them and couldn’t stop. I like the way theirs turned out. :)
Yamato had no idea how to handle this. He could handle rebellious students, impossible deadlines and test answers so poor they made his IQ drop a few points, but not this. His girlfriend was sitting beside him on the couch, crying as she hugged her legs close to her. Crumpled wads of tissue paper were all over the floor, and in the television, Mr. Fredrickson was sitting alone, the bright balloons beside him contrasting with the darkness of the church. “Oh god, no,” Anya whimpered, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. Yamato reached out for her hesitantly. He was upset that she was crying, but he wasn’t sure if he understood why she would cry over a cartoon. The urge to tease her fought with the need to comfort her. “Pouty,” he started, “it’s just a-” “IT CAN’T END LIKE THIS” Anya wailed, turning to face him with a reprimanding but pitiful look. “It’s still the start of the movie, pouty,” Yamato said gently, but a smirk formed on his lips nonetheless. She was being utterly ridiculous and adorable at the same time. “WE’VE BARELY EVEN STARTED AND THEY KILLED OFF ELLIE? WHA-WHAT…WHY? ARE THEY TRYING TO KILL US FROM THE INSIDE?” Anya’s hands were a blur as they flew all over the place. “I’m doing just fine over here,” Yamato replied. “Of course you are. You practically sold your heart to the black market.” Yamato sighed, crossing his arms as he looked at his girlfriend. His eyes were firm, but not cruel. “Pouty, I’ve got a dozen comebacks for you, but I won’t utter a single one because there’s a bunch of talking dogs somewhere in this movie and I want you to see it because I know you’ll love it. So, will you please collect yourself so we can watch this together?” Anya sniffed, then nodded, making Yamato smile and give her a quick peck on the nose. “Good pouty.”
As the music intensified, Saeki could feel his chest getting heavy. The scene never failed to move him, given his own relationship with his father. He grimaced a little, eyes never leaving the screen as Simba pushed against his father’s muzzle. “Dad, come on, you gotta get up.” Sniff. Saeki’s ears pricked. Was someone crying? “Dad, we gotta go home,” Simba said, tugging at Mufasa’s mane. Another sniff, followed by a chocked sob made Saeki turn, and to his surprise, he found Anya shaking with the effort to hold back her tears. “Honey?” Saeki called out just as Simba paced around, confused and distraught, the music adding to the heaviness of the situation. Instead of answering him, Anya let out a heartbreaking wail and buried her face in her hands. Without another thought, Saeki wrapped her up in his arms, crooning sweet, comforting words to her. When her shaking subsided, she pulled at her sweater’s neckline and wiped the snot from her nose; the fact she didn’t even try to hide it from Saeki only made it clear how deeply she was affected. “I’m sorry, Takamasa,” she sobbed, facing him with tears still running down her cheeks. “You’d think after all these years, the pain would be bearable. But nooooooo, it just gets worse and worse until every last bit of life is sucked out of you!” She was breathing fast after her rant, eyes, distant and hands curled into claws in front of her. She looked comical yet oddly endearing. “Well, I thought you never cried, honey let alone for a cartoon,” Saeki commented, trying to cheer her up. “I’M NOT MADE OF STONE, GOD!”
"Mother?” Ren stared at the television, oddly entranced despite his chest getting tighter with emotion. He was lying on the couch with Anya, who was uncharacteristically silent. He looked down to check on her and was shocked to find a single tear falling down her cheek, glistening beautifully against the light from the TV. “Mother?” Bambi called out again, craning his neck in all directions. “Bambi…” Anya whispered before covering her mouth with her hand. Ren remained quiet, not quite sure how to handle this. He rarely saw Anya crying or emotional, and never because of a cartoon. This was uncharted waters, and he planned to tread carefully. Bambi kept on calling out for his mother, and the trembling that Ren assumed was because Anya was cold became a violent shake, and she burst out crying in his arms. “Anya?” he asked. he patted her hair to get her attention. “Just…just give me a few moments to collect myself,” she replied through muffled sobs. Minutes later, she sat up to wipe her eyes and fix herself. When she faced him, her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was red. “I’m okay,” she said. “Are you?” Ren asked. “Well, I’m dying inside, but I’ll manage.” Ren smiled and extended his arms out to her. She fell back into his chest and they continued watching the movie. Ren made sure to kiss her forehead every now and then.
When Anya suggested binge watching The Legend of Aang all over again, Kuni didn’t even hesitate. Apparently, the promise of a great show made him forget what happened the last time they saw it. It wasn’t until they reached The Tales of Ba Sing Se that Kunihiko had a slight recollection of Anya being…emotional. “Happy birthday, my son. If only i could have helped you.” Kuni instinctively reached out for a box of tissues just as Uncle Iroh started singing Leaves from the vine. Sure enough, a single tear fell down Anya’s cheek - the first of a waterfall about to come. “Brave soldier boy comes marching home.” Right on cue, Anya’s head tilted back as she let out a pained wail, shoulders shaking violently as she clutched at her chest. Kuni handed her the box of tissues, which she took absentmindedly, and traced patterns on her back to calm her down. He lost count of all the times he’d had to comfort her over this, but he still couldn’t get over how damn adorable she was. “Every time, Anya?” Kuni teased. “JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE ICE WATER IN YOUR VEINS -” she choked on her words and glared at him instead. Kuni chuckled and paused the show. “We’ll wait until your ready,” he said, grinning. “Thank you,” Anya sniffed. “You’re kind for someone so heartless.” “Hey!” “WHO DOESN’T CRY LISTENING TO LEAVES FROM THE VINE?” “Who cries over Leaves from the Vine every time it comes up?” “LITERALLY EVERYONE, KUNI!”
“Hogarth. You stay. I go.” “No,” Anya whispered. Beside her, Takao was torn between watching the movie and watching her fast descent into sadness. “No following. “NO!” Anya whined, clutching the blanket closer. The Iron Giant flew up to the sky to meet the missile head on. The music intensified; Hogarth’s voice rang out, saying, “You are who you choose to be”; and in reply, The Iron Giant uttered, “Superman”, closing his eyes as he sacrificed himself to save everyone. “NOOOOOOOO!” Anya wailed in time with the explosion, surprising Takao so much that he knocked over the bowl of popcorn in between them. “WHY? WHYYYY?” Anya buried her face in her hands.Her shoulders shook with the force of her crying. As a grown man, Takao could not help thinking how ridiculous she was being; as a lover, he did not hesitate to comfort her, no matter how trivial the reason might be. “It was a noble sacrifice, Anya,” he said gently. “And besides, he comes alive in the end.” “That doesn’t make it any less painful.” “True. But think how happy the reunion would be.” Anya sniffed, looking up at him. Her eyes were distant as she considered his words. “Hogarth and the others would be overjoyed.” Takao smiled. “Exactly.” He leaned closer, kissing a tear away.
“When somebody loved me…” “No.” “Everything was beautiful…” “Oh god, stop.” “Every hour spent together…” “Please, no.” “Lives within my heart…” “OH MY GOD, NOOOOO.” Yuta had gone to the kitchen to fetch a couple of drinks, and upon hearing screams, made a mad dash to the room he shared with Anya, only to find her sprawled on the floor with their blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. “Ani?” Yuta asked, setting the drinks down as he sat next to her. Anya faced him, tears and snot falling down her cheeks like waterfalls. “They left her, Yuta,” was all she said before leaning against him and convulsing into sobs. “Hey, there, there,” Yuta crooned, wiping her face with the blanket and making a mental note to get a fresh one. “It’s going to be alright.” “Is it, Yuta? Is it?” Anya asked, her eyes glinting with uncertainty. “It is,” Yuta answered, pressing a firm kiss on her lips for emphasis. “It always does.”