#but like I can’t really process what they look like like that

[luveline]

Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him. 

“Super what?” you ask. 

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes. 

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically. 

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.” 

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask. 

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” 

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later. 

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry. 

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him. 

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee. 

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them. 

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far. 

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.” 

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.” 

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before. 

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed. 

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed. 

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” 

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.” 

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks. 

“Everything.” 

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.” 

“M’not perfect.” 

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point. 

“Your hair is really tickling me.” 

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.” 

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him. 

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says. 

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.” 

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.” 

“It’s so stupid.” 

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours. 

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks. 

You hum a yes. 

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?” 

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled. 

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?” 

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[theotherbuckley]

I like you (because you're you) - bucktommy 2K

read on ao3

“Who was that?” Tommy asks, walking up to where Buck’s sat on the couch, phone placed down in his lap. They’d just finished dinner, Buck had cooked a delicious pasta dish that had Tommy coming back for seconds. He’d told Buck how much he liked it, and Buck had promised he’d make it again before his phone started buzzing and he’d apologised before taking the call.

Buck gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His cheerful self from earlier seemingly replaced with a faded version. He has this distant look in his eyes which he quickly blinks away before he speaks. “Uh, that was my friend Connor. He, uh, just wanted some of my medical records.” He waves his hand like it’s no big deal. It isn’t. Not really. His brain is just being stupid, is all.

Tommy raises his eyebrows before frowning. “Why’d he need those?” He questions, coming to sit down next to Buck. He places his hand on Buck’s thigh momentarily, squeezing softly like he just knows that Buck needs a little bit of comfort right now even if he doesn’t quite understand why.

“Uh, their son was at a doctor's appointment, just having a check-up or something, and I’m well— they used my sperm so, you know, they just want to make sure everything is in order, I guess,” he rushes out the last part, desperate to get the words out like if he says it fast enough Tommy won’t even realise what he’s said and it won’t cause any issues. 

Tommy’s brows rise further as he takes that in. Buck watches him process, afraid that his life will once again be too much for someone, and they���ll walk out. It’s what people do — when Buck inevitably becomes too much and when they decide what he’s offering, what he can’t give them, isn’t enough in return, they leave.

“Is that— is that a problem?” Buck hates the way his voice wavers as he speaks. Hates the way he can’t hide his emotions at all. He really likes Tommy, really wants him to stick around. He’ll do what he can to make that happen. He’ll make himself more useful so that Tommy won’t want to leave. He’ll—

“No, no, of course not.” Tommy says it like there’s no other answer. Like he can’t imagine anyone thinking that’s a problem. Buck waits for the inevitable ‘but’.

“But.” Buck braces. “But I’m just surprised I’ve never heard of this guy before is all,” Tommy says. Buck exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Oh uh, yeah, we— we aren’t really close.”

“But you donated sperm for him?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I guess— he asked. I may not have spoken to him in a while but, I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“You have the biggest heart, Evan. I think what you did is incredibly honourable. How are they doing now?” Tommy asks gently, seemingly comfortable to move the conversation on.

“I’m—I'm not actually sure.” He sighs. “That was the first time they’d called since the birth. And that was only because they needed something.” He laughs at the end like his words don’t speak to some greater insecurity deep inside him. Like it doesn’t hurt that his friend hasn’t talked to him until they needed him.

“Ah,” Tommy says, and Buck can here the judgement dripping from his mouth. He’s not sure exactly what he’s done, but it’s always something. Maybe he should have been the one to check in on them, maybe—

“I don’t think he sounds like a very good friend,” Tommy states. 

Buck frowns, he didn’t expect him to say that. The truth is, Buck sometimes wonders that himself. What he lands on instead is that there must be something wrong with him. Because it’s not just Connor who wants things from him and then doesn’t care about any other part of Buck. It’s just how it’s always been. People take, and Buck gives. He gives, and he gives, and it’s never quite enough, but he tries.

“Sometimes I feel like people only like me when I’m useful,” Buck admits in a whisper, letting the words stuck inside his head free. It’s not that he thinks it; he knows it. He knows he’s only worth something when people can use him, and he’s lived with that his whole life. He was born to save someone, and he failed, but that’s his whole purpose even now. 

He saves people for a living. He’ll babysit whenever anybody asks, he’ll be your trivia partner when you need to win. He’ll let his friends use him for his sperm. And it’s not that he doesn’t want to. He does. He loves doing these things for his friends because he can. But sometimes it hurts a little knowing that it’s not him that they want. They just… like his ability to do things.

“Evan, I like you. Regardless of anything you can or can’t do. I like you.” Tommy emphasises the you like Buck being Buck is somehow special.

Buck can’t stop the wet laugh that escapes his throat. He shakes his head, sniffles before composing himself. “No, no,” he says, because it’s not true, it can’t be. “But—but it’s okay because I’ll make sure you don’t get bored of my I-I’ll cook dinner, and I’ll do the dishes, and I’ll make sure we always win at trivia and— and I don’t know anything about cars or Muay Thai, but I’ll learn.” Buck’s rambling, the words tumbling out of his mouth in one breath. He needs to make sure Tommy knows that he’ll do his best; even if it’s hard, he’ll be useful because then Tommy will stay, and he really wants Tommy to stay.

“Evan.” It’s that soft voice again. Placating, like he’s talking to a small child. Like he’s trying to get him to listen.

Buck shifts his gaze from the floor to Tommy. He looks sad. Buck wishes he wasn’t the one to make him look like that. He tries to smile at him, anything to bring those soft creases at the edges of Tommy’s eyes back, but his heart’s not really in it.

“Evan,” Tommy says again, locking his eyes on Buck’s. “You don’t need to be useful for me to like you. I like you because you’re adorable. I like you because you’re funny and you don’t care what people think. ‘Who cares’, right?” Tommy chuckles. Buck likes that sound. “I like that you were willing to try again with me, even if you bought me god-awful coffee with it.” Buck lets out a wet chuckle at that. “I look at you, Evan, and I see someone who cares so deeply about your friends. Willing to put your life on the line for others. But it’s more than that, I like the way you ramble about random things you find on the internet, and how you try out 100 different lasagna recipes because you need to find the right one even though you burn half of them.”

“Hey!” Buck says in weak protest. He’s right, though. There’s a warmth in his chest at the fact that Tommy noticed.

Tommy keeps going. “I like how big your smile gets when you talk about Chris or Jee-Yun. I like the way that your cheeks turn the colour of your birthmark when you’re flustered. I just— I really like you, Evan. You could— you don’t have to cook for me every day or give me the answers at trivia night for me to want you to stick around. I like you because you’re you.”

Buck can’t stop the tears trickling down his cheeks. His whole life has been about being useful, and it’s so hard to believe anything different but the way Tommy talks about him. Like maybe he really does see him. “I don’t know how to— I want to believe you but it’s just, every relationship I’ve had has felt like people want something from me. Abby needed help when her mom died, and then she just left. I always felt like Ali just wanted a place to crash when she was in town. I mean, she’s the reason I have this apartment in the first place. Taylor just wanted sex at first, and then she started getting insights into news stories from the firehouse, and she always valued that more than spending time with me. She’d ask me how my day was, not because she cared but because she wanted to know if there was anything worth writing about. Hell, she even published a book about me. Even after it was over, she used me as much as she could.” The tears are flowing faster now, and his voice cracks as he speaks. It’s stupid to get so emotional about this, but Buck can’t stop now. Now that he’s opened the faucet of this insecurity of his, it’s like everything he’s been bottling inside is bubbling to the surface and he can’t stop it.

“And Nat—Natalia,” Buck continues, hiccuping through his tears. “She just wanted to understand my death. Asked me a hundred— a hundred questions about what it was like, and at first, I thought maybe she could actually see me, but I feel like she was just using me for something too.” Buck wipes his face. He’s sure he must look like a mess right now — tear-streaked face, snot dripping down from his nose. Tommy doesn’t deserve to deal with all this. “Sorry,” Buck chuckles,  the sound getting caught in his throat. “You didn’t need to hear about all that.”

“Hey,” Tommy says, moving closer towards Buck. He tucks his fingers under Buck’s chin forcing him to look Tommy in the eyes. He holds Buck’s face tenderly in his hand, always so gentle. “You can talk to me about anything, and I will listen, okay?”

“I don’t want to bore you,” Buck says softly, moving to look down at the ground once more but Tommy doesn’t let him get away, holding him firmly yet soft, like Buck’s something precious.

“You couldn’t,” Tommy replies sincerely. “If it weren’t for you, how else would I know that the Australians started a war on emus, huh?” He jokes.

“And lost,” Buck whispers because he can’t help it.

“And lost!” Tommy repeats. Buck had gone on a tangent about it just the other day. He’d gone to the zoo with Christopher, and they’d been having a lot of fun until they stood too close to the fence, and an emu had come up and startled them. Buck had decided in that moment that he needed to find out every single detail about them, which led him to discovering that in 1932, Australia declared war on emus —and then proceeded to lose. He’d met up with Tommy after and rambled about his findings because he thought it was absolutely hilarious. Tommy sat there smiling at him, evidently listening to every word that he said, taking it in and remembering it all.

“I like listening to you talk, Evan. I like you. And I’ll tell you that as much as you need to hear. Now,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Tomorrow, I’m cooking for you. You don’t need to do anything except sit there and look pretty. Let someone do something for you for once. Okay?”

Buck just nods, wiping at his eyes before slumping into Tommy’s now open arms and relishing in the comfort of his boyfriend. He doesn’t quite believe him, not yet. He wants to. It’s just prior experience has moulded his brain a certain way and now he just can’t believe any different. He wants to. He wants someone to like him, to love him, even when he can’t be useful. He hopes that maybe Tommy will show him that that’s possible.

For now, he tucks his head into Tommy’s shoulder, clutches onto him like he’s going to disappear and lets himself be held. Tommy kisses his birthmark like it’s sacred, holds him and tells him he likes him over and over. Buck thinks maybe he really does.

#911 abc #911 fandom #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #purple writes #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 show

[yanfeisty]

I wonder how funny it would be seeing Zhongli x Reader x Neuvillette and how their territorial instincts would come out randomly and they would almost fight each other to the death before they stop themselves and they're like wait im sharing my lover with them. I cannot attack them or else lover = sad

Honestly, I don’t really imagine them fighting because they are so well mannered and all, but there is definitely some tensions in there but let’s see that. Content warnings: none.⠀⠀Thanks for the request, hope you’ll enjoy !⠀⠀ ︵ ⠀⠀ ̼

⠀‣ Zhongli, Neuvillette

These two are from different lands with jobs they are dedicated to, and therefore they can’t travel much, which is convenient because this means they don’t see each other and can fully enjoy your presence alone. However, this also means that you need to travel between nations and leave one of them to see the other. It’s a pity, but they understand, and they also don’t want you to worry since this relationship is already strainful.

You don’t notice it because you’re mortal, but there’s a sort of competition between the two, they can smell the scent of the other on you and despite being well composed, it kind of awake something within them, the need to remove that scent from you and replace it with their. They’ll get more clingier than usual, like asking if they can hold your hand whether it’s in outdoor or indoor, or giving hugs when you’re already close to them and make them last a bit longer than it should.

Sometimes, you’re able to get them in the same room with a bit of forcing with Neuvillette to go outside, and convincing Zhongli to go see him. They’ll keep throwing side-eyes at each other’s while staying still in their chair, and when you try to discuss with them, one won’t take part of the conversation if he sees the other is already in it, unless you ask a question to him directly—yes, it’s very awkward. They think they’re subtle but they really ain’t, anyone walking by can feel the tension, especially you.

“This tea is wonderful!” You exclaimed as the hot drink fills your throat with multiple flavors, going to the tea shop was a good idea that you thought since everyone could enjoy it and it gave you a subject of conversation to talk about. You gave a look to the two persons to your left and right as a hope for a response from them, knowing they always had interesting things to say even when it’s about drink. “I agree, this tea shop uses an old traditional technique, the process demands lots of patience and care but the result is worth it.” You nodded and smiled to Zhongli’s explanation, then you looked at the other direction. “And what about you, Neuvillette?” “Oh. Yes, it is a wonderful taste indeed.” He nodded while looking at his tea. “…”

You don’t expect them to like each other, but at least hope they could act normally without this feeling of distance. Not only that but there are times were they would throw implicit critical comments about each other’s, “You’re going to spend time with the usurpe- I mean, Mr Zhongli?” It gets tiring, this doesn’t feel like a relationship which makes you disappointed, and they can feel it.

They’ll realise how unwise they acted and will try to make efforts for you, even if it takes a long time, trying to restrict their natural instincts. Eventually, they’ll act more casual when the three of you are together, and when they put their differences aside they find common traits and linking they have which makes you think that in another life they would have been really good friends. Say bye to the awkward silence and hi to the long never ending conversations between the two on Liyue water.

‘𝓣𝐇𝐄 𝓔𝐍𝐃  Please don’t copy/translate and don’t reblog with yand3r3 tags, also if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or you’ll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated. 

Would Neuvillette even know that Zhongli is an archon TT?

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #neuvillette x reader

[dira333]

Hurting together - Aizawa x Reader

mentions of Chronic pain, requested by @alienaiver I hope this is in any way what you've imagined.

“Nervous?” Shouta asks after a full 120 seconds of your leg bouncing without stopping.

“Huh?! Oh, oh, I’m sorry!” You scramble to a halt, arm resting on your leg to keep it in place. “I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to stop now. But if you wanna talk about it, I heard that helps.”

“Oh, uh, I don’t wanna … I don’t wanna annoy anyone,” you mutter, eyes flickering from left to right.

“Do you wanna hear my story then?” He asks, not because it’s something he likes sharing, but you’re cute and what’s the alternative? Staring at the wall until he gets called in.

“Oh, if you… if you don’t mind?”

He huffs out a breath. “Well, apparently it’s not healthy to break a bone every single week.”

“Oh!” Your eyes grow huge. “Every single week? Wait, is it the same bone.”

“No,” he snorts softly, “At least then I’d have a better story. I’m a pro Hero, I just happen to get into fights.”

“And what’s your Hero Name? Fragile Bone?”

It takes him a second to recognize the joke, snorting loudly when he does. You’re snappy, now that the anxiety fades.

“No, it’s uh… Eraser Head.” He waits a second for you to recognize him, the star-struckness to hit. But it doesn’t. Instead, you cock your head to the side and eye him thoroughly. 

“Interesting,” you say, “I remember an Interview you were forced to give a few years back. Uh, I think there was a streaker at the Sports Festival?”

He laughs. “Good Memory. Yeah, that was one of our students. He didn’t have his Quirk under Control back then.”

“And you’ve got a broken bone now? Or is this just a check-up?”

“Bloodwork.”

“Yikes,” you pull a face, “me too. It’s the worst.”

“It is,” he agrees, dares to ask before he can lose his courage again. “Want me to hold your hand through the process?”

And it’s smooth, smoother than he’s ever been able to - maybe the absence of his friends does benefit his ability to flirt - and he might even get his hopes up for a second there - until your face falls.

“That’s really tempting, you know, but I… uh… my hands are hurting. That’s why I’m here, you know, to figure out why they’re hurting like this. So hand-holding is kinda a no-go.”

“Oh, I understand,” the dejection must be audible in his voice because you reach out for him, though you don’t take hold.

“But if you want,” you offer, voice a little breathless, “you could… uh… put your hand on my shoulder? It might look weird, but-”

“I’ve seen weirder things,” he offers and your smile lights up the room.

-

“Oh, I didn’t know you were coming in together,” Doc Oc greets him and for a moment he is paralyzed, frozen between two different emotions. Surprise, because Doc OC’s obviously familiar with you and he’s got the worst memory when it comes to names. Embarrassment, because it’s usually not the best thing if a Doctor remembers you by name, let alone this one.

“Ah,” you smile, “We met in the waiting room. Bloodwork, you now. It’s easier if it’s done together.”

“That I can agree with. Now, who wants to go first?”

-x-

“Now, I believe you owe me something,” Recovery Girl announces one afternoon, a big smile cutting into her wrinkly face. “What’s her name?”

“Huh?” Shouta had been busy reading through this week's assignment, deciphering the texts. Denki’s Handwriting almost requires a PHD in decoding.

“Doc Oc and I have been friends for quite some time. One would call us even… very close… if you know what I mean. He said you brought in lovely company.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess…” He can’t help but blush at her tone. Too much information.

“Well, are you going to ask her out? You cannot count this as your first date, surely? A fancy Dinner is a must.”

“A fancy Dinner is a must for whom?” Hizashi’s leaning around the door and Shouta groans. Of all people to overhear this.

“Shouta’s girlfriend.”

“Shouta has a girlfriend? Shouta, my man, why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you love me anymore? Your best friend?”

He crawls further into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes. Those assignments can wait, if he can fall in to a coma first, he-

-x-

“So?” Rumi leans against your Desk. “Did he call you?”

“Not yet,” you’re chewing on your lower lip, “But he’s probably busy.”

“Busy my ass,” she snorts angrily. “You’re a catch. If he doesn’t get a groove on you’re gone. He should know that.”

You level your friend - and boss - with a glare. “I’ve been single for a year.”

“Which he doesn’t know,” she sings. “But on another note, have you’ve gotten the results from your bloodwork? You know we only need that so we can get started on your hands-free Desktop.”

“Why do you sound more excited about this than I am?”

“Because you’re afraid of change and I am not. Just think, your hands will finally get to rest!”

“Yay,” you wave them around half-heartedly when your phone pings.

Rumi’s already grabbing it from your desk, always faster than you. “Oh, it’s your guy.” She hands it back. “Not looking.”

“Thank you for respecting my privacy,” you joke and open the short text only to gasp.

“He’s asking me out.”

“Great, so he’s not an idiot. Confirm.”

“No, no, he’s asking me out for a date tonight. You know how bad my legs have been today, I can’t show up with a cane.

“Why not?”

“Because,” you drag out, “the last time I did that there was no second date.”

“And you think he’s that shallow?”

“I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“Fine,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “Tell him you can’t tonight because you’re working late. Ask him if he’s able to reschedule for tomorrow or Friday.”

You hesitate, but do as you’re told.

“And now,” she grabs your bag as soon as you put your phone down, “you get your cute ass home and rest. I want you as fit as you can be tomorrow so you can enjoy that date.”

“But work-”

“Work is like my ex - it will always wait for you.”

-x-

“Fuck,” Shouta groans, head on his arms. The pain is strong today.

“You… uh… you good?” He hears a familiar voice from the door. Shit, he forgot about training with Hitoshi.

“Fantastic,” he grinds through his teeth though he does not dare to lift his head. Lunch was decent, but he doesn’t want to taste it again.

“Do you need Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m going to be fine. Can you get me my painkillers from my bag? I would, but moving-”

“Sure, sure.” He can hear rustling and then a pill is dropped into his outstretched palm.

Slowly, carefully, he drags his arm back to pop it into his mouth, swallows it dry. He’s got loads of practice.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Uh, if you say so.”

-

He’s got a black eye.

He’s got a black eye and a date in about thirty minutes and the painkillers are making him particularly loopy today.

Hitoshi wouldn’t have been able to hit him in the face if his reaction time hadn’t been so slow. He’s lucky no bone is broken.

Something tells him that it we better to reschedule, but wouldn’t that make him look disinterested when he’s not?

-

“Mew.” 

Shouta turns to the sound, surprised to see a black cat looking up at him. There’s a hedge there, and he bends down to pet the animal. 

“You’re loud, huh?” He comments on the purring, taking a seat on the ground when his knees turn a little wobbly. He really is getting older. 

The cat disappears into the hedge and he holds out a hand, making little sounds to lure her back out.

Just as he can spot the green eyes blinking back at him, a banknote is dropped into his hand.

“Here,” a voice says, “It’s cold out.”

Shouta freezes, only to look up into your face.

“Uh,” he makes, suddenly envious of Kaminari when he cooks his brain. 

“I didn’t mean-” you say just as he exclaims loudly: “There’s a cat.”

“Where?” You ask, peering into the hedge. “I love cats.”

-x-

“This was nice,” you tell him after Dinner, the episode with the Cat now something you can laugh about. “Would you like to do it again sometimes?”

“Yes,” he nods slowly, “I’m sorry if I was a little loopy today. I took… uh, I forgot to take a nap.”

“Ah,” you smile, “You’re getting old too? If I don’t get my usual lunch nap I’m not so nice to be around.”

Shouta laughs. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. You’re very nice to be around.”

“You think so?” You ask, heart skipping a beat when he nods.

“How are your hands?” He looks down at them, “Can I hold them? Or do they still hurt?”

“If you don’t squeeze them I should be fine,” you say, praying that it’s the truth.

It is a little uncomfortable, if you were to tell the truth, but he’s gentle and your heart blooms at the implications.

If only you could put this moment in a jar, keep it for all the days where it’s hard to get up.

 -

“So?” Rumi leans over your desk, grinning wide. “Gimme the scoop.”

“We went out, it was amazing, I don’t know when I’m going to see him again.”

“That’s not the scoop, that’s a short summary. I want every detail. Also, what does it mean you don’t know when you-”

The ringtone of your phone cuts her off. You take a peak only to gasp.

“It’s him. He’s calling.”

“Well, pick up. I’ll come back as soon as you’re finished. And I want all the details.”

-

It’s hard to find time for another date.

Shouta works two fulltime jobs and you’re overwhelmed with just one.

But he calls or texts every day, sending you pics of cats whenever he’s out on patrol.

It’s nice, but it could be nicer.

When he asks what you’re doing and you’re in bed, pain holding you down, you cannot tell him the truth. Because he doesn’t know the truth. And telling him over the phone seems insensitive.

Sometimes he sounds pretty loopy when he calls and you wonder if he’s getting enough sleep. But when you ask him about it he evades the question so masterfully, that you only remember it hours after the call.

“I think I have to come clean,” you tell Rumi one day during lunch, your hands in thick compression gloves to combat the pain. “This season is hitting me hard and I cannot postpone our next date again just because I cannot go anywhere without a cane.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well. From what you’ve told me about him he seems very nice.”

“Yeah,” you sigh,”so nice I don’t want to lose him.”

-x-

Of all the moments for a migraine to hit, this has to be the worst. 

Okay, maybe the second worst, because he’s not currently fighting someone.

But he’s been pressing his temple against the fridge doors of this Konbini for half an hour now, clearly unsettling the other shoppers, and his painkillers are far, far away in his car’s glove compartment.

Every time he thinks he’s got it now, turning away from the coldness has his lunch rise up in his throat.

“Shouta?” A familiar voice asks and the ice seeps into his veins. It’s you.

“No, I’m not Shouta. You must mistake me for someone else.”

“You’re wearing a nametag. Backward, but you’re wearing it.”

He sighs. “Can you just pretend you’re not seeing me?”

“I could, but why?”

“This is embarrassing.”

“I mistook you for a homeless man, I think we’ve already reached top embarrassment.”

“I’m having a Migraine.”

“See,” he can hear the encouragement in your voice, knows exactly how your mouth curls at the words even if he cannot see it. “That’s very low on the embarrassment list. Do you need a painkiller?”

“Yeah, but they’re in my car.”

“What are you using.”

“I doubt you have that. You can only get it via prescription.”

Shouta names it, hears you chuckle.

“Oh, you bet I got that. One pill is enough, right?”

“Right.” He can hear rustling before a pill is pressed into his hands. He swallows it dry. 

“It will take me a minute to come to my senses.”

“No worry at all. I can stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, but I want to. By the way… the Bloodwork… was that about your Migraine?”

“Yeah,” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “And other stuff.”

“Mhm.” Some more rustling.

“How did you get those pills by the way? You don’t work in a pharmacy, right?”

“Oh, no, I don’t deal drugs if that’s what you’re asking.” You laugh, but it tapes off awkwardly. “I… I suffer from chronic pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

You laugh again, but you don’t sound amused. “Yeah, me too.”

Silence settles between them. Slowly, the pain in his head eases into something manageable and he peels himself away from the cool glass to look at you.

You’re staring at the ground, a cane in your hands. 

“I’m going to be pretty loopy for the rest of the day,” he tells you, lump in his throat, “But do you wanna grab a coffee after this?”

The surprise in your eyes tells you what he’d already assumed. You’re not used to people accepting your condition as something that just is. 

“Might ask you some questions as soon as my head works properly again,” he adds like a threat, “but for now I’d just like to look at you. You’re really pretty.”

“You’re really loopy,” you giggle.

“Mhm, it’s going to get even worse, sugardrop.” His hand finds your elbow, careful to avoid your hands and you knock your head lightly against his shoulder.

You’re probably a weird-looking couple to the outside world, but he’s never cared much about that anyway.

#my writing #mha x reader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa fluff #aizawa #aizawa x you

[seeingivy]

see you soon

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

songs mentioned: birds of a feather by billie eilish, see you soon by beabadoobee (small mention + name of chapter), and this love by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren’s embarrassed when he wakes up the next morning. 

Not immediately. Because when his eyes finally flicker open from the sunlight streaming in from the windows, the only thing that he feels is an overwhelming headache and a dry patch in his throat. His head spins slightly when he sits up, eyes puffy underneath his fingertips, and he regrets ever taking advice from two borderline alcoholics just because it was their wedding. 

But when he’s finally able to somewhat endure that pulsating feeling in his head and fully flicker his eyes open, he looks to his left to find you still in his bed. 

It wasn’t a dream. 

He was almost half convinced that it was – that you weren’t actually whispering into his skin that you loved him still, borderline begging him like he once did to you in the dark of night. 

He was wrong. 

He leans forward, tucking the stray strands of hair out of your face, only to find that you’re still fast asleep, your breaths deep and labored. Eren can’t help but smile as he brushes the back of his hand against the softness of your cheek – knowing you’d be irritated that you fell asleep with your makeup on when you woke up and borderline homicidal from your hangover. 

It’s only when Eren moves slightly to the right that he catches sight of your neck, and the little purple mark he accidentally left last night, that the regret, the deep searing embarrassment, seeps in. 

Because all he gets are flashes of the night prior – of his lips on your neck, of how badly he wanted the begging to be true, of the warmth that was pooling in his stomach when he passed out next to you. 

He got too carried away. Maybe you had too. 

There were a hundred possible reasons that could explain what you said – that the sweetness of the wedding had gotten to you, that you too were plagued by the eerie deja vu, or really, that the sinking feeling that things were ending and you’d never see each other again was starting to feel too permanent, that you wanted to pretend. 

Eren pauses. 

That’s what it had to be. 

It was for posterity. That things were ending and…and that simply had to be the last time that you kissed. Not an awkward half kiss with Levi and Hange watching, one that would be displayed to nearly thousands of people in a few months.

You had already given the people enough. One that had to be just yours, after everything else you had given. 

Eren can feel the regret digging into his gut as he lightly pushes his hand out of your grasp and decks downstairs. 

--

There’s an urgency to it. The need to repeat what you said to Eren, exactly the way you said it last night. 

Because it was one thing if he didn't love you and was trying to spare your feelings. And it was another if he really didn’t remember – and the possibility that he really did love you back was still intact – that it was just lost on deaf ears. 

You were positive that he did. That it had to be the latter and not the former – because Mikasa and Jean wouldn’t push you, Connie wouldn’t give Eren more hurt than he could handle, and Levi wouldn't be talking you into it if it wasn’t something that was good for you. 

You just had to muster the courage to do it again.  

You slip your hand into Eren’s at your side, ignoring as everyone starts crowding around Levi and waiting for instructions, and lightly pull at his hand. You look up and watch as he processes the sensation, almost wholly confused by it as he looks down at you. 

You wonder if he even realized when you put your hand in his. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” you whisper. 

He slips his hand out of yours immediately. 

“What?” 

His eyes are nearly boggling out of his skull and you cringe. Maybe you shouldn’t confess your love while he’s still hungover. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to make it like a thing. I just wanted to chat, whenever you have a second.” 

Eren frowns. 

You don’t know what it means. You don’t know what any of it means – that you leaned forward and he let you kiss him, that Levi had tried to convince you to do this, and that for the first time, you’re actually not sure if you’re doing the right thing. 

“Eren. Y/N, could you pay attention?” Levi asks. 

You whip your head to the side to find the group of them all looking at you, as you awkwardly pull your hand out of Eren’s and give Levi a nod. You can feel your hand shaking at your side as you shove it into the warmth of your underarms, giving Levi and Hange the indication that you’re paying attention. 

“Earth to Eren. Are you with us?” Hange asks, head hanging forward as they wait for a response. 

You turn your head back to him to find that he’s still staring at you and you swallow hard. You raise your eyebrows at him, which is enough to restore some semblance of bearings to him, as he shakes his head, almost like he’s disoriented, and turns to Levi. 

“Sorry. Ye-yes.” Eren responds, though you barely believe him. 

“Okay, well. If you guys do this well enough, this is the last scene we’ll film.” Levi states.

There’s a quiet murmur that goes around the room, as you watch everyone give each other almost excited glances, and note that Levi fights every muscle in his face to not smile. There’s an almost unsettling, but electric finality in Levi’s words – and really, in knowing the fact, that it’s likely you’ll all get the scene done in one take and then be done with it. 

And that for the majority of them, they’ll walk away and never return again. You wonder if Eren will walk out of here with you, like you were so sure he was going to a few hours ago. 

 You turn your head to the side, to Mikasa who offers you a halfhearted smile. You return it. 

“Let’s walk over together then.” Levi states. 

The smallest glimmer of hope that was flaring so brightly in your chest dims the slightest bit, but it’s stubborn. At the very least – you’d get your point across. That Eren had his doubts, rightfully so, but you were going to make your point abundantly clear. 

That you won’t let this love die out a second time. 

Mikasa wraps her arm around your wrist, and Connie wraps his arm around Eren’s shoulder, as the group of you all drag your feet to set for the last time.

--

Eren gets to direct the last scene. 

It’s Levi and Hange’s wrap gift to Eren. They had given him full reign to write so much of the last season and to them, it was only fair that one of the best things he had written, one of the perfect ends to the season, would get to fully play out the way that he had imagined it. 

And that he’d get to sign his name on with theirs at the end of it. 

From your vantage point, with his little fake head secured in your hands, you can tell that he’s excited. He’s animatedly pointing everything out to the crew, adjusting the lights and the positions as you all wait for your marks, teeming with your own nervousness. 

You love him. You want to scream it from the rooftop. 

“You’re looking awfully happy.” 

You look to your right to find Jean, Mikasa, and Connie at your sides, each of them looping in an arm in with you, as you all direct your gaze back to Eren. 

It’s almost hard to process what it is that Connie just said, or really even feel it. All you can really produce is a heavy sigh, one that they all recognize too well, as you lean your head against Mikasa’s. 

“Did you guys kiss last night?” Mikasa asks. 

“Yeah.” you respond. 

“What? You did what?” Connie asks, easily broken from the bittersweetness of the moment – which is replaced with his excitement. 

“We kissed.” you repeat again. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit, you fuckers actually did it!” Connie states. 

“I mean, we didn’t actually –” 

“Not you two, dumbass. Jean and Mikasa. I told them their stupid getting you drunk plan wasn’t going to work. And I was fucking wrong.” Connie states. 

You turn to the two of them, who give you sly grins, as you elbow Jean in the side. 

“Well, it didn’t actually work. I started confessing to him and he didn’t believe me because I was drunk. If anything, you made that more embarrassing for me than it needed to be.” 

“Wait, you’re not happy then? He didn’t say it back?” Mikasa asks. 

“No. I mean, not really. He just kept saying that I didn’t mean it. I don’t think he realized that I was being honest.” 

Connie pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I told you two. It was him that we should have been focusing on, not her. You know how he is.” Connie whispers irritatedly. 

“Excuse you. She’s way worse than him. She definitely needed more coaxing than he did.” Mikasa responds back. 

“Well, look at where we are now. Poor idiot is so hopeless that she said exactly what he wanted and he didn’t even fucking believe it.” Connie states. 

“I’m going to talk to him.” Jean states, making a move to walk towards him. 

You reach forward, wrapping your fingers around Jean’s bicep, and pulling back. He looks down at you, an almost seamless blend of irritation and frustration spreading across his face, that you can’t help but smile at. 

“Don’t tell me you have cold feet now.” Jean grumbles. 

“No. I really appreciate it, from all of you guys, but…” 

You turn your head to look back at him, only to find him already looking at you. You shoot him a smile – one that he doesn’t really fully return – before you turn back to the three of them. 

“I don’t need your help anymore. I think I’ve got it from here.” you state. 

The three of them give you weary eyes before Jean leans forward, eyebrows raised as he questions you. 

“You’re not still drunk, are you?” 

“No. I just know what I want.” you respond. 

You shove him off, earning you from Connie, and proud smiles from Jean and Mikasa, who move to take their cues again. And each of you quietly stand on your little marks, the tape so worn into the ground from the years and years of walking over the hard floors, that it’s basically disintegrated into the wood. 

Your response to Jean echoes in your head. That you’re not not drunk, that you just know what you have to do. 

You can’t help but note it all as you stand there, how final it all is, with Eren and otherwise. That the light on the right is still kind of broken from the time it fell during season two, that your names are still scribbled into the wall all the way at the right, and that it’s your second to last time standing there. 

Your final with everyone else being here. 

“On your cue, Y/N.” Eren states, giving you a firm nod, as he focuses his eye on the viewfinder. 

You take a deep breath and try to stop the shake in your voice, and clutch the softness of the little pillow in your arms harder. But before you can start, you can’t help but turn back, the subsequent tears collecting in your eyes, more bittersweet than they need to be for the scene. 

“You good?” Levi asks. 

You feel your chest pang as everyone looks up at you, concentration broken from their focusing, as they all offer you a smile. 

“Yeah.” you whisper. 

You turn back to your cue, noting the disintegrating tape again, as you take a deep breath. 

“Armin.” you whisper. 

He turns his head and runs over to you, the screams coming out of his throat so agonizingly painful, that it nearly makes you flinch when he comes over. And it takes a few seconds – for you to sensitize yourself to the screaming – for you to really look at Armin, who's now crouching on the ground with you. 

You have to swallow down the tears. That this is Armin, twenty-five years old, self assured and confident Armin, and not the awkward little kid you met ten years ago. That he’s stumbled, fell, but made amends, and that really – his future's so bright that you swear you might be blinded by it. 

“You remember now too, don’t you? When Eren came to visit us?” 

You wonder if any semblance of Armin’s tears are real – if he really is sad to let this go, if any of them will hold onto this and them as hard as you’re going to. If it’s so agonizing to him to walk away from here and to leave this part of him behind. 

“Yeah. I heard…the result of your choice would make the power of the Titans vanish from the world.” Armin pants. 

You turn your heads, as you watch Eren pan the camera to the left, where all of them are waiting. Armin slips his hand in yours as he Eren moves the camera away from you, his tears making no inclination of ceasing.  

Jean’s voice nearly makes you flinch. All you can think of is Jean crying at Marco’s funeral – that was always tried to act so cool and tough but that there were still the smallest, deepest, sensitive parts of him that seemed to shine through in odd moments. That he had spent a whole year in the hole with Mikasa, just to crawl out of it on top, that he’d get to leave here by her side. 

“I remember now. You fucking moron.” Jean murmurs. 

And each consequent voice that you hear, that belongs to people that have been so intertwined in your life – so deeply woven into the fabric of everything you’ve known, everything you’ve ever dreamed of since you were fifteen – makes the burning in your eyes consequently get worse. 

“Eren…you’re really a…” Reiner starts. 

“Eren told me that my mom would go back to being a human being.” Connie states. 

That’s not a line from the script. Not the exact one anyways. But you know Connie well enough to know what he’s really referring to – the second chance at life that he got to give himself when he chose to get sober. And really, the second life that he probably gave his mom too. 

Annie’s line is the one that gets you. 

“He told us to live long…but what about you? We never asked for you to do this. You suicidal blockhead.” she murmurs. 

But really, that’s what it is at the core of it. That after you left here, you would all live long – but each of you would be moving in different directions. That some of them would stop dead in the center of the race like Marco or run too far in the wrong direction like Historia. 

That you’d start off in pairs but have to finish the race alone, that some of you would drag along in the middle and never really make it to the end. 

That no matter how the race ended, it wouldn’t be all together. 

There was always that consolation every other time you said goodbye. And weirdly enough, it reminded you of that almost blissful feeling you would have when elementary school would end as a kid. That you’d get to spend time away – but the promise of returning would always be there. 

It was almost like practice. To rob yourselves of each other’s company whenever you took a break, but never really, because you did always get to come back. 

You can’t help but cry when it’s Falco’s turn. 

“Gabi!” 

And maybe even worse when it’s Levi’s. 

“Did you see that? Seems like this is it. What you dedicated your hearts for.” Levi whispers. 

You wonder if Marco’s watching. If he’s seeing every corner that Eren’s panning too – Gabi knocking Falco down from being so excited to hug him, Annie and her dad in one corner, Reiner and his mom in the next. Of you and Armin in the last frame. 

You have to swallow down the block in your throat. 

“If I stayed here, they wouldn’t give Eren a proper burial.” 

Armin sighs. 

“Let him rest somewhere quiet.” Armin states. 

If you got to have it your way, that’s what you and Eren would get to have. That you’d get to rest somewhere quiet, together. It’s a plagiarized thought – one that you stole from Eren, that he wrote first. 

But it was almost too perfect. The thought of you and Eren leaving here, taking a few months off in his sweet little cabin in Ireland, where no one could touch you. He’d lie in the grass, you’d watch the moon, and skinny dip in the ocean whenever you wanted. 

“Eren always took a nap near that three.” you state. 

Armin smiles. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think it’s a good place.” 

And you count them – seven steps until you're out of frame – clutching onto the little pillow that’s meant to be Eren’s head in your hands, as you switch on your heel when you’re done. And all fifteen of you turn your heads, eyes expectant as you look at Eren, whose own green eyes are glimmering with tears as he says it. 

“I think that’s a wrap guys.” Eren states. 

And there’s fifteen pairs of legs dragging to the center, until you’re a terrible mess of tangled arms, and snot filled tears. It’s Connie’s giggly voice and Gabi’s complaining that fills the air – and it’s such a sweet ache that it’s almost painful. 

And really – each memory, so arbitrary, so formative – seems to come bubbling to the surface as you stand there, with Reiner’s elbow dangerously close to your eye and the faint smell of Jean’s cologne in your nose. 

Levi clears his throat. 

“Can I say one thing?” 

You all pull out of the hug, limbs still intertwined in every which way, as you look at him. He clears his throat a second time – which should have been the first sign that you wouldn’t be able to stomach what it was that he was going to say if he could barely get it out in the first place. 

“There aren’t any words that I can give you that can really put justice to what it is I feel, for each and every single one of you.” Levi starts. 

You preemptively wince. It already hurts. 

“There is something deeply rewarding about this career and it is most definitely the part that people don’t expect. It’s never been a thing that I really understood, because really, there are so many parts of it that are…are so antithetical to who I am as a person.” Levi states. 

He turns to Hange, extending an open arm, before continuing. 

“I’m deeply fond of my privacy. I would hate for anyone to know about my love life, let alone speculate on it. And I truly hate a system that, down to its core, is destined to knock people down, to profit on the torturous part of creating art. I never understood why this was something that people dreamed of, why little girls would decide their entire career after watching someone give an impassioned speech on a television screen.” 

The group of them all turn to you, teary eyed smiles, as they all offer a quiet laugh. 

“I got a taste of it. I acted in my first real movie, La La Land, and fell deeply and inexplicably in love. Not only with the love of my life –” 

He offers Hange a wink. 

“But, with the world of acting itself. To pretend to be a jazz artist in Los Angeles, a secret spy in the United Kingdom, to live through the highs and lows of life – time and time again. Sometimes I almost found myself getting obsessed with it – letting everything else go, to be someone else. To live a hundred lifetimes in the short one I’ve been given and that really, I’d still get the chance to go miles and miles further, to live a hundred more.”

Levi pauses. 

“This is the second time that I’ve found myself having a life I’m finding hard to let go of.” 

He turns back to Hange. 

“The important parts followed me where I wanted to go the last time…” 

And he turns back to you, sparkling tears falling out of his gray eyes, as you swallow a whimper. 

“But I know they won’t this time. And god, have you all given me the biggest headache of my fucking life. You’ve all run a hundred directions and…and I’ve chased you all down to each one of them.” 

You all laugh. 

“I’ve never seen a group of people who are so motivated to have difficulties with one another. Like genuinely, every time I’d come out on top of something, someone else decided to have an issue. One person gets engaged and suddenly I’m hearing you’re begging outside his door everyday for him to take you back. Or you’re breaking each other’s cameras and blocking each other's numbers.” 

You turn to Eren, who offers you a joking wink. 

“But…I’ve never seen a group of people who are more passionate. Never had people that I wanted to follow to every corner, that I felt so moved to do right by. And I could never be more thankful to have people who were willing to walk with me and my vision, to truly and really, give meaning to the idea of dedicating your hearts.” 

Falco presses his cheek to your shoulder. 

“Thank you, kids. I know that I’ve made the right choices in picking each of you and I’d do it all again with you in a heartbeat, chasing and all.” Levi finishes. 

No one’s able to muster an appropriate response in words. But Eren gives Levi his wrap gift – which seems to be just right. It’s a single page, an arbitrary page ripped out of one of the old scripts. 

“What the hell is this?” 

“It’s from Marco’s script.” Eren states. 

You all peer over Levi’s shoulder, noting the scene and getting an eerie sense of deja vu – of the first time that you were caught off guard with Marco’s death scene. 

[Marco]: We haven’t even had a chance to talk this through yet. 

And underneath, his inscription on the page. 

levi, if this was your idea, i want you dead. you can’t just kill me off! 

(just kidding! i know you love me so much that you’ll bring me back somehow :D) 

--

Of course, Levi somehow made it harder than it had to be, again. He had made it a rule at the end of filming each season – that you weren’t allowed to give each other real wrap gifts, because you were always going to be coming back. 

It was a strange tradition that occurred after. Since you weren’t allowed to give each other real wrap gifts, it led to everyone getting gag gifts for each other – something that was obviously started by Reiner and Connie – and wholly responsible for the stack of knick knacks that were stuffed in the back of your closet upstairs. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder, only to find Eren at your side.

“Your turn.” 

You feign shock, pressing your hands on your heart. 

“You got a gift for me?” 

“Shut up. I technically have two gifts for you, but I can’t give you the second one until later.” 

You watch as Eren digs his hands into the folds of his shirt, before pulling out the key necklace that he’s been wearing all of these years. And subsequently watch as he yanks it over his neck and gestures for you to come closer. 

“The key necklace?”  you ask. 

“I believe this is technically stealing a prop, but you know, what they know don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

You frown as he places it over your head, yanking your hair out of the chain and readjusting it at the center of your chest. 

“Why do you look so annoyed?” 

“Well, now my gift looks unoriginal.” 

You reach for the bag on the counter, before handing it over to Eren. And you watch the smile spread across his face as he pulls the red scarf out of the tissue paper, and presses it close to his chest. 

“The scarf?” 

“Yeah. I had the costume designers add our initials on the inner side, because you know, I actually got permission to give you that as a gift.” 

You watch as he finds the stitching on the scarf, running his fingers over the black thread, before setting it down and opening his arms up for you. 

“You know, you’ve always been such a goody two shoes. You’re supposed to steal this stuff from set and then make it a funny story for the press later."

“But of course. I’m so glad you’re still so humble to be giving me pointers about how this all works years later.” 

“One of the things I pride myself on is how grounded I’ve stayed throughout the entire process,” he responds. 

You both laugh, as Gabi and Falco come up to your side, excited smiles on their faces. You both give each other a confused look, before looking down at the two of them. 

“Hi guys.” 

“Hi Eren. Hi Y/N. We have a gift for the two of you.” 

The two of them hand you a little package wrapped in white paper. 

“The one on top is for Eren. And the second one is yours Y/N.” 

The first thing that falls out of the package, that’s meant for Eren, is the magazine cover that Scott had actually mailed you a few weeks prior. And the second is one that you’ve entirely forgotten about, from an interview that you had done with Danny and Sareen. 

“Well, you’ve always been shit at giving gifts Falco, but this kind of takes the cake.” you mutter. 

“That’s obviously not the gift, dumbass!” 

Gabi shoves him in the side. 

“The magazine actually reached out to the two of us about doing a similar cover with our inspirations and an interview based on that. And for both of us, that’s always been the two of you. Not only because this is literally your show, but you’ve always been that for both of us. And they agreed to let us include Hange and Levi too, so it could be a whole Generations of Attack on Titan type of thing.” 

You smile. 

“I know you can’t take back all the shitty interviews and stuff you’ve said. But at least whenever someone looks up Vogue USA, it’ll be us that comes up next to you instead of them. I figured that was at least a little bit better, you know?” Gabi says. 

You and Eren turn to each other, eyes nearly glistening, as Eren crouches to his knees to get on Gabi’s level. 

“You’re one of the best people I know, you know that?” 

“Eren. Don’t get all corny on me!” 

“You started it! But really, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. Both of you do and I’m immensely proud of you.” 

You crouch on the ground with the two of them, Falco joining suit next to you, as you wrap your arm around him. 

“You’re both going to make one promise to us, okay?” Eren asks. 

“What’s that?” 

“You’re always going to be on the same side. No matter how popular either of you get or what anyone tries to tell you, I can promise you – you’ll be much better together than you are apart. And I don’t want you to forget that.” 

You watch as Falco and Gabi look at each other, self assured smiles on their faces, as they turn back to you, bright eyes. 

“Deal.” 

“That’s a promise.” Falco repeats. 

The two of them wrap their arms around you one more time, before pulling back. 

“Gabi, stay back, okay? I have a gift for you.” you state. 

You watch as Gabi’s cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink, as she tucks the stray flyways around her ears. 

“Oh! You got a gift for me? You didn’t really have to.” 

You shake your head. 

“Are you crazy? Of course I did. And even if I didn’t have to, I really wanted to.” 

You reach for the little box, before handing it to her to open. 

“One of the first birthday gifts that everyone got me here was a little leatherbound notebook to write my lyrics in. Ever since then, I’ve only ever written in that – or other ones like it once I ran out of space. But it’s a good space to scribble out ideas, or even just fragments of words. Sometimes I find myself going back to phrases that end up being really big for songs later. And if you’re going to be a serious songwriter, I figured you’d need one of your own. And I’d be honored to give you the first one.” 

You watch as Gabi squints her eyes at you, trying to blink the wetness out of her eyes. 

“Really?” 

“Mark my words, you’re going to be the one to watch. And I’ll be right there at your side, whenever you need something.” 

You watch as she looks down at the book, running her fingers down on the softness of the leather, before she picks up the pen. 

“The pen?” 

You smile. 

“I hear you’re a big fan of this song I wrote called like…New Year’s Day or something like that. Well, that’s actually the pen that I wrote it with…and most of my songs actually. I wanted you to have it.” 

“I can’t take that from you.” she responds, pushing it back into your hands. 

You shake your head. 

“You most definitely can and will. I know you’ll make good use of it. And well, I think there’s a right time to give things up and pass them on.” you respond. 

You watch as she smiles bigger, clutching it close to her heart before she reaches forward and gives you an almost too energetic and excited hug. And you watch as she runs approximately four feet away to where Falco is standing, as she excitedly shows off the gift. 

Falco turns over to you and gives you a sly wink – wholly satisfied with the fact that he had a hand in giving her the perfect gift. 

You make your way over to the center of the room, where Niccolo’s waiting, as you knock on the table top. He gives you a smile as everyone turns their heads over to you, each of them nursing gifts in their hands. 

“I have something for all of you, if I could just have your attention for a second.” 

Niccolo’s at your side, handing you the acoustic guitar, which is enough to get all of their attention as they all scoot closer and take a seat on the couch or the floor. 

“I figured that it was only fair that you guys got to be the first to hear this news.” 

You give Niccolo a nod, as he fixes the right picture onto the projector. It’s a picture of two polaroids side by side – the one on the left being the first group picture that you took on the first day of filming season one and the one on the right being the first picture from the start of season four. 

And at the bottom, your handwriting in black marker – the letters spelling out Birds of a Feather. 

“I’m so excited to share with you guys that my fifth studio album, one that’s entirely mine, is going to be coming out on June 11th.” 

“No fucking way. You…you’re coming back for real?” Reiner asks. 

You give him a nod and watch as all of their faces spread wide in shock, before you’re met with a sound of the sweetest cheers. And they all start whispering to each other excitedly, pointing out their faces on the cover, as you all gesture for them to be quiet with your hands. 

“I wasn’t done. That would be such a lame thing to announce right now.” 

“What do you mean? I’m about to go crazy about this on Twitter.” Connie responds. 

You roll your eyes. 

“The reason that I wanted to tell you guys is because I wanted to show you guys the tracklist.” 

You give Niccolo a nod, as he switches it to the next slide, and watch as they all read it. 

“Wait. These are…these are our songs. That you wrote with us.” Sasha states. 

“That’s right! Birds of a Feather is the last song on the album because it’s the first one that I was able to write by myself. But every single one that comes before it is one of our songs, so I figured that it was only fair that you all got writing credits for them. I wouldn’t have been able to write that one if you hadn’t gotten me to write the ones that came before.” 

Connie stands up from his seat. “You’re giving us all writing credits?” 

You give him a nod. 

“Oh my fucking god. I’m about to be an Institute Award winning writer.” Connie says. 

You snort as they all laugh, before walking up closer to read the set list, each of them pointing out their respective songs. You look over your shoulder at Niccolo, your new tried and trusted producer for the foreseeable future, and blow him a kiss. 

“The eleventh song is blank.” Reiner states. 

“Right. I haven’t written that one yet. It’s for Eren’s request, I just haven’t had a chance to get to it yet.” 

You watch as Jean shoves Connie in the side, before leaning closer to you. 

“Calling it now. Some variation of the word love or lover is going to be in the title.” Jean states. 

Connie snickers as you roll your eyes and gesture for them to return back to their seats and Niccolo hands you the guitar pick. 

“Okay, well. This one is Birds of a Feather, guys.” 

And I don't know what I'm cryin' for I don't think I could love you more It might not be long, but, baby, I Don't wanna say goodbye

Birds of a feather We should stick together, I know (till the day that I die) I said I'd never Think I wasn't better alone (till the light leaves my eyes) Can't change the weather Might not be forever (till the day I die) But if it's forever it's even better

You look to your left, your fingers slightly stinging from the metal of the guitar strings as you turn to Eren, Levi, and Hange and smile. 

I knew you in another life You had that same look in your eyes I love you, don't act so surprised

The group of them all give you a set of cheers – Connie and Gabi pressing wet kisses to your cheeks and Mikasa ruffling your hair – as they all excitedly get closer to the screen and take pictures. It gives you a chance to find Historia alone on the couch, as you offer her a smile. 

“Is it meant to be a big fuck you to me that you put everyone’s songs there but mine?” Historia asks. 

You roll your eyes. 

“The exact opposite actually. That song is my gift to you actually. It’s yours, entirely. It was a little bit too personal of me to share without your permission. And even if you give permission, I think you should be the one to share that with people and get full flowers for the masterpiece that you wrote.” 

Historia smiles, leaning her head against your shoulder. 

“I was about to write a whole song about how much of a bitch you were.” she jokes. 

You snort. 

“Don’t worry. I was already writing a counter response about how much I loved you.” 

You watch as Historia wrinkles her nose before leaning forward and leaning her weight against you. Her grasp only seems to get tighter as you return the affection, soaking in the sweet vanilla smell for one of the last times in the foreseeable future. 

--

The following morning happens too fast. Because Jean and Mikasa are finishing getting everything packed up and Niccolo and Sasha are eating breakfast, and in the blink of an eye, the three hours you had dwindled down to all of you standing on the porch, teary eyed. 

And it’s really silent, quiet hugs and smiles, before the sets of cars arrive, that you all really turn to each other – and realize that you have to leave. 

And you’re able to handle it considerably well, with Eren at your side, the two of you swallowing down that scratchy feeling in your throat as you say goodbye to Sasha, Niccolo, and Reiner. And it goes well for the most part, watching each of them duck their heads into their cars and give one last wave before they drive away. 

That is until Connie, Jean, and Mikasa walk up to you, each of them with the biggest of smiles on their faces. 

“Hey guys.” Mikasa says. 

You clear your throat, trying to shake the tears that are rising up away, as you look at her. 

“Hey.” you respond. 

“That was the first thing you ever said to her.” Jean states. 

You widen your eyes. 

“Really?” 

“No. I’m just fucking with you, I made that up.” 

You shove him in the side, as the group of you laugh, before Connie pulls all of you closer, everyone linking their arms around each other's shoulders and making a little circle. And you all lean your heads against each other – unable to muster any semblance of words that can put meaning to any of the feelings – as you watch from afar. 

Niccolo and Sasha leave together, but not before Sasha blows all of you one last kiss. Gabi and Falco are accompanied by a very annoyed Colt. Reiner’s last hug is to Hange and surprisingly, he’s the first one to break Levi. 

“Our car is the last one there, the black.” Jean states. 

You and Eren give each other a look, as you all unlock your arms from the circle and smile at each other. 

“Enjoy your honeymoon, guys. And don’t give us a godchild too fast. I still haven’t gotten over my fear of children. Or pregnant women…” you state. 

“You’re scared of pregnant women?” Jean asks. 

“You didn’t know that? They like freak her out.” Eren states. 

“They don’t freak me out. I just…can’t think about it for too long. So give me some time, Mikasa.” 

The two of them shake their heads, almost like they’re annoyed by the thought, before they pull you in for their last hugs. And you can’t help but feel your heart sink as you watch the two of them walk away, at the last wave as they offer before they get tucked into their car. 

Connie’s the last one standing. 

“My car’s here too.” Connie states. 

You and Eren turn to face him, getting the slightest shiver from the cold air, as you both turn to him. 

“I’ll see you guys again?” Connie states. 

You both smile, biting down on the hardness of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling too hard. 

“Of course you will.” 

“I’ll be the first to visit you guys wherever you end up after filming that last scene.” 

You and Eren turn to each other and smile, before shaking your heads at him. 

“Okay, Connie. We’ll get together.” Eren states. 

Connie smiles, reaching forward to cup one of your cheeks and place his free hand on Eren’s shoulder, before he squeezes both of your skin. 

“I’m glad. Now that I’ve given my last ditch effort at attempting matchmaking for the two of you, I’ll finally be able to tell you all about my girlfriend.” 

“Your what?” you ask. 

Connie gives you a wink. 

“See you guys later.” he responds, walking off with his bag. 

You and Eren turn to each other, eyes wide. 

“He has a girlfriend?” you whisper. 

“I didn’t know he has a fucking girlfriend. You know, you can’t just fucking say that and walk off into the fucking distance, Connie!” Eren shouts. 

“Watch me!” Connie responds, tucking his head into the back of the car, before slamming the door shut.

Eren crosses his hands over his chest. 

“What a fucking prick. That’s way dramatic, even for him.”  

“I will admit, that’s so on brand for him that I can’t even be annoyed about it. “

“I’ll fucking say.” 

You and Eren stand there on the pavement, socks cold on the gravel, with Levi and Hange standing a few feet away on the porch, as you watch the cars drive off and feel the silence hang in the air. And it’s only when Connie’s car disappears into the horizon that the thoughts return – the doubts of what you and Eren would actually have to confront now – as you turn over to him at your left. 

“Hi.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Hey.” 

“Ready to talk?” 

Eren nods. 

“I’m all yours.” 

You and Eren trudge back to the front, where Levi and Hange are waiting, as you trail back in and lock the door behind you. 

“Can you meet us at the table? We’re just going to grab the scripts and then talk about the next few days.” Hange asks. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

You and Eren walk down the hall, hands brushing against each other, as Eren turns to look at you. Hange and Levi return within the minute, each of them handing you a script with your names inked in bright green marker. 

“I thought there wasn’t any dialogue for this. Like last time.” you state. 

“We’re doing something a little different than last time.” Hange states. 

“We’re going to film this that Hange and I wrote scene three days from now. And you’re not allowed to see each for those three days, until we film that scene.” 

“What?” you ask. 

“The scene is fairly simple, but…we need you guys to really nail it. But besides that, I want you guys to really get into the character work for it and really think about what it would be like to see each other after time apart, to be isolated like that alone.” 

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine and all. But can we like delay the whole…not seeing each other thing for like an hour?” you ask. 

Levi frowns. 

“No. That’s like the entire point. It doesn’t exactly work if you get to talk before it happens.” 

“Okay, I get that. But..” you start. 

“No buts. You’re going to do this. It’s just three days. You guys have willingly gone without talking for longer than that.” 

You glare at him. 

“And you complained plenty about that. First you want us to talk to each other and then you’re physically stopping us from doing so?” 

Hange gives you an apologetic smile as Levi stands up, shuffling off towards the end of the hallway, as Hange follows. You turn to Eren, heaving a deep sigh as you look at him. 

“I guess I’ll see you in a few days?” Eren asks. 

“Yeah. You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when they said that we were going to be here alone.” 

Eren shrugs.

“Me neither. But that’s just kind of how it goes.” Eren responds. 

“I’ll see you in three days, I guess.” 

Eren smiles. 

“It’ll pass by before you know it.” Eren offers. 

--

Eren wondered if the time was passing as slowly as it was for you as it was for him. 

The slow rotation of things that he had been using to fill the time on the first day – walking the length of the block, packing up the last of his things, and flipping through all of the books left in his room – were doing little to help him on the second day. 

In all honesty, he was starting to get antsy. Too nervous for his own good. 

And every little nervous thought that he had – about whatever it is that you had to say to him, the sheer embarrassment of letting himself go too far the night of the wedding, of never getting to feel the safe comfort of this house again – was culminating his headspace into a wasteland for good thoughts. 

Eren wondered if it was possible to feel nostalgia for something if he was still in the depths of it. Or really, he knew for a fact that you could – but just wasn’t sure how it was exactly possible. 

Because deep in the pit of his stomach, he was dreading the fact that in two days, the three of you were going to lock up this house and never return. That even if he got to return, it would never feel the same as it did before and whatever time he had spent here, it had already passed by him in front of his eyes and he hadn’t noticed until it was almost over. 

It was a different sort of nostalgia, he supposed. Because it was one thing to be outside, playing with your friends for the last time and not realizing it was the last, but another to know that you were standing in the halls of all you had ever known and knowing in full that you were going to walk away from it and it was never going to be the same. 

Eren reaches for the box closest to him, filled with the polaroids that he had picked to keep, and picks the first one out that he could find. 

A picture of you and Armin at his sides, your cheeks resting on his shoulders in front of the brightly lit candles of his sixteenth birthday cakes. 

It almost bothers him. That he can’t remember the exact moment the picture flashed – or really anything that happened after. But there’s the smallest amount of solace that Eren gets from looking at the pictures too. 

Only because he knows that the person in the picture, who was so inexplicably happy, is still buried somewhere deep within him – and that at the very least, he’ll get to carry that person wherever he goes. 

There’s a knock at the door, followed by a pair of footsteps that belong to Hange and Levi, who plop down at his side. Eren quickly tosses the picture back into the box, before offering the two of them a smile and hiking his knees closer to his chest. 

“You okay?” Hange asks. 

Eren smiles. 

“Just feeling nostalgic.” 

“Tell me about it.” Hange responds. 

“How’s Y/N?” Eren asks. 

Levi turns to face him and gives him an irritated glare. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, Levi. That’s obviously why I asked.” 

“If you must know, she’s very irritated with me. She gave me some choice words when I had breakfast with her yesterday morning.” 

“Yeah, well. She had something she wanted to talk to me about. We kind of –” 

“You guys kissed while you were drunk at the wedding. Well, she technically initiated the kiss and the second and the third. And it was only because she got carried away after you didn’t believe her when she was trying to tell you that she loved you.” Hange finishes. 

Eren turns his head to the side. 

“What?” 

“She told us.” 

“Well, she told you wrong. She did try to…confess to me and begged me to kiss her, but I was the one who leaned forward. And the one who kissed her the second and the third time.” Eren clarifies. 

Levi snorts. 

“You remember?” Levi asks. 

“Do you think that’s just something I can forget?” Eren asks. 

“Well, my previous source seemed to think it was plausible.” 

Eren frowns. 

“She doesn’t remember.” Eren mumbles. 

“Well, you did have a lot to drink.” 

It suddenly makes sense to Eren – almost too much sense. The reason that you were so insistent about talking was because you weren’t sure that he reciprocated the feelings. Not because you were so bothered by what had happened that night. 

“She really said that?” Eren asks. 

If you were the tiniest shred of overthinking capacities like Eren did, which he knew for a fact that you did, he figured that you had already spun the story ten different ways in your head. That you were probably simmering over there, nervously itching to say what you had wanted – similar to the way that he had felt for weeks when you had actually returned. 

“She thinks you don’t remember anything that happened that night. And because of it, she’s going to repeat exactly what it was that she said to you, again. Just to know the answer for sure” 

Eren leans back against the frame of the bed, angling his head up towards the peeling wallpaper on the ceiling. Hange and Levi join him at his sides, the three of them watching hte fan spin around and cast shadows on the wall. 

“Why are you telling me?” Eren asks. 

“Do you believe in signs, Eren?” Hange asks. 

“Hange.” Levi berates. 

“Fuck off. Answer the question, Eren.” 

Eren pauses. 

“Sometimes. Why?” 

Hange leans to the side, before handing him a book. 

The Complete and Collected Poems of Maya Angelou. 

Marco’s poetry book. 

“You know, this was a gift to you guys. Why are you giving it back?” 

“Open it to the marked page.” 

Eren sits up, spreading his fingers over the top of the pages before he finds the dent and pulls open to the page. 

Have enough courage to trust love one more time and almost one more time. 

“Right. Are you about to give me a whole lecture about –” 

“Look at who marked the page.” 

Eren looks back at the bottom of the page, only to find his own writing staring back at him. And it’s only then that he remembers that this was a gift that Marco had given to him – at his last birthday party before the two of you broke up, when you passed out in his bed from how exhausted you were instead of blowing out the candles with him. 

“Not that I believe in any of this shit, but…but we were cleaning up the room before we were going to come talk to you before going to bed. And it just fell on the floor, straight off the shelf, and opened to that exact page.” 

Eren gets it now. 

“Do you believe in signs, Eren?” Hange asks, again. 

Eren slams the book shut. He wasn’t exactly the superstitious type, but he could trust in the things that he knew were tried and true. 

And Marco did make a promise to haunt him from the grave. And he was never one to break a promise. 

“Yes. I most definitely do believe in signs.” Eren answers. 

--

“Levi. Did you…did you empty this out?” 

“Why on Earth would I do that?” 

You set the glass jar down, before dropping to the floor and running your hands over the tile to find the slip of paper – the request that Eren had placed in the jar months prior – now nowhere to be found. 

“Why are you on the dirty floor?” 

“My paper is missing. I-I didn’t take it out in the past few days, I think it might have gotten shuffled up with everyone moving and all that.” 

“What was on it, kid?” Hange asks. 

You lean back on your heels, wiping the dust from your fingers, as you feel your heart sink in your chest. 

“Eren’s request for my song.” 

“Oh! Just ask him to write it again.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll just do that.” 

Except that’s not good enough. Because if your hunch was correct, Eren wouldn’t write what he wrote the first time again – whatever it was that he scribbled onto the green slip of paper. 

“Yeah. But ask him tomorrow, when you’re done filming.” Levi states.

You glare at Levi. 

“No one is breaking your stupid rule, Levi. Relax.” you respond, as you make your way to leave the room. 

“You’re not eating lunch?” 

“I’m not hungry anymore.” you respond. 

You drag your feet across the floor as the frustrated tears start to accumulate in your eyes – burning warm and hot as you make your way down into the hall and slam the door shut behind you. And you can’t help but lean down across the wood and watch as the tears fall onto your knees, the pounding in your head being a culmination of every horrible thought that’s danced across your viewfinder in the past few days. 

Slowly but surely, any hope that you had on the first day had all but dwindled down into nothing on the third day. And the courage, the deep insistence that you had to talk to Eren face to face, has simmered down when the fears started getting louder. 

Because, maybe, it was really for the better that Eren didn’t remember. And that maybe, this is exactly how you and Eren were supposed to end. 

You walked in the wrong direction. And then he did too. And weirdly enough, the stars still aligned so you would both end up here, before you had to leave again. 

And if you really count things in the grand scheme of things, there was nothing you could do but be grateful. 

Well, really, if you wanted to stay optimistic – and keep your promise of leaving here different than the way you returned – you had to be optimistic. 

You had to be determined to find the good, even if there wasn't any. You’d root it out of every nook and cranny – and even if you couldn’t find it, you were going to make it for yourself. 

You reach for the box off of the desk, filled with the polaroids you have tacked on the wall, and reach for the on the top. 

It felt like cheating – stealing a polaroid that you weren’t in – but you couldn’t help but take the picture of Sukuna and Eren standing together, trying to act cool by not smiling at the camera, and keep it for yourself. 

You find solace in the fact that Eren’s loved. That Eren loved you and that you loved him – and that a part of you always will. 

Eren always seemed like there was more than he was putting off and really, every conversation that you had ever had with him since he was a kid had left you wanting more. Only because you could tell – that deep down – there was more than he was letting on, hundreds of things and memories that he was waiting to share with you. 

It was really the best thing about him – knowing that you would never tire of being around him. Because he’d tell you something new, teach you a new set of chords on the piano, or tell you about memories of his that you weren’t privy to experiencing next to him. 

You wonder if it’ll be different when you see him years down the line. 

If he’ll grow his hair longer, if he’ll have hundreds of more memories that he wants to share with you, and if you’ll be able to walk the path back to where you started after time away. 

You reach for your notebook, to the last free page in your lyric book and scribble three words at the top. 

See You Soon 

--

The nervousness leaves you the morning you film. It’s almost serene, the feeling having settled into your bones, as you sit in the chair – watching them blow the hair dryer through the ends of your hair for the last time. 

“You’re just going to sit out there in the little meadow. Eren will meet you there when he’s ready and we’ll just kind of keep continuously rolling. You can do whatever you want or…or whatever feels right. We’ll cut when you film the scene.” Levi explains. 

You nod. 

“What if Eren never shows up? Are you going to roll for three hours?” 

“Well, he’s getting ready in his trailer, so I don’t think it’ll be that long.” 

You look over your shoulder at the trailer, before turning back to him. 

“Okay, well. See you out there.” Levi responds, giving one last squeeze to your cheek. 

You take a slow start to getting out there. Linger back to hug the hairdressers and makeup artists one last time, dawdle by the food cart and spend your sweet time eating the scones, before you make your way out to the meadow. 

The little cabin that the crew had constructed was perfect. Complemented by the little flowers barely blooming nearby and the clouds whistling through the air – the smallest part of you ached that it was real and not just four ply walls with nothing inside them. 

You take a seat on the bench just outside and hike your knees to your chest. You pull the sleeves of the pink cardigan over your palms, before nestling your nose into the softness of the scarf – perfumed the same way with a mix of the fresh detergent smell and the flowery perfume that the costume designers douse the clothes in. 

You try to memorize everything exactly the way it is. The blades of grass dancing in the wind of the cold air, the sun peeking out through the patches of the clouds, and your heart racing in your chest. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder, which you know belongs to Eren at your side. 

You look to your left to see him sitting there, his hair freshly cut. It’s considerably shorter – the exact length it was when you met him. 

“Eren.” you whisper. 

It almost doesn’t feel like he’s standing there. 

“Y/N.” 

It’s a kind smile that he offers you, one that goes to the depths of his green eyes. You can’t bear to look at it, and instead, choose to focus on the smallest bloom of flowers out in the distance. 

“Levi cut your hair again.” you mumble. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“My idea.” Eren responds. 

You twist the laces of your shoes in your fingertips – the plastic a the end of the lace almost fraying from how overworn the shoes are – as you try to swallow the block in your throat and make polite conversation. 

“Any reason why?” 

“You like it better this way.” Eren states. 

You feel your throat dry. 

“What?”

“You love my hair short. You told me that on the night of the wedding.” 

You pale. He remembers. He remembers every word of your drunk ramblings – including the fact that you mentioned that his hair looks the best to you when it’s short, because it’s the exact length it was when you fell in love with him. 

Eren stands up, before turning back to you and extending his hand out. 

“Are you ready to finish this?” Eren asks. 

You take a deep breath, before putting your hand in his, and giving him a nod. 

“I’m ready.” you respond. 

The tears that come are warm and hot and they arise quickly in the few seconds that Eren takes to walk to his cue. Because what he had just said had just registered in your head. 

He cut his hair short because you like it better that way. 

Eren’s hand is warm on your shoulder, as he lightly shakes you. 

“Y/N. Wake up.” 

You open your eyes to find the tears blurring your vision, which you’re silently thankful for, as you try to look in his direction. 

“You’ll catch a cold.” Eren murmurs. 

The tone he uses – it’s the exact opposite of the gravelly tone that always catches you off guard, the one you hate for its harshness. Only because it felt wrong, because it was so antithetical to the Eren you knew. 

You shake your head, trying to remember your lines from the scene. 

“Eren? Huh? When did I fall asleep?” 

“You must have been really exhausted.” Eren responds. 

���I just felt like I had a really long dream.” 

Eren turns around and smiles. 

“Let’s just take it easy and do nothing for the rest of the day. I caught some huge fish so…Y/N…why are you crying?” 

You reach up, wiping the wetness you were unable to blink away from your cheeks. 

“I don’t know. I suddenly felt like I shouldn’t be here.” 

Eren frowns, taking a deep breath, before he turns to you. You can make out that his hands are slightly shaking at his sides. 

“I’m sure Armin has been desperate to find us. But I couldn’t plunge Historia into hell and commit into an endless cycle of killing and I couldn’t bring myself to bring genocide upon everyone else outside the island.” 

Eren pauses, as he balls his hands into a fist at his side. 

“Let’s just go…live out my remaining four years in peace and quiet. Just the two of us, with no other people.” 

You recognize that tone too but this one almost makes you wince. Because it’s the quiet begging – that you heard once on the beach, years prior. 

“You’re the one who said that, Y/N. It was your idea.” he whispers. 

You stand up, looping your arms around his torso as you bury your head into the side of his neck and get a strong whiff of his cologne. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry I said that. I know we promised to not talk about that.” you whisper. 

You can feel Eren shaking underneath your touch as he brings his hands up. 

“Can we make another promise? Once I’m dead, throw this scarf away. You’re going to live a long time after this.” 

You pinch your eyes shut, in anticipation for the next line. 

“Forget all about me. Please, Y/N.” 

You swallow hard, before pulling back to look at him, and his deep green eyes. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” you whisper. 

Eren gives you a silent nod, before he leans forward, and slots his lips against yours. It’s the opposite of four nights ago and in no way fiery, burning, or searing your skin. It’s the exact opposite – warm, tender, and final. 

Eren pulls back, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear, before you hear Levi’s voice. 

“Cut! That’s a series wrap on Attack on Titan.” 

There’s a group of resounding cheers, as you and Eren pull back, and give each other a lingering smile. Eren raises his fingers to his lips, tracing the skin, before Hange’s absolute manhanding of him directs his attention away. 

--

You toss and turn in the bed for three hours before you give up on sleeping all together. 

It’s the only reason that you’re trudging back over to the set in the cold, the key pressed into the palm of your hand and the book tucked into the warmth of your arm. 

You’d thought long and hard about all the lasts you were experiencing in the past few days – which is precisely why you were utterly shocked that you had forgotten about this one. 

It was only in your tossing and turning that you realized you hadn’t even paid a last homage to the piano that you learned to play on – and the sudden thought of it had your legs moving before you even realized that you were marching over there in the dark of the night. 

You take the key and jam it into the lock, wiggling the entire knob before the door clicks open, and you march into the unexpected brightness of the set. You’re taken aback by the golden lights still being left on, before you hear the tune of the piano being played in the back corner and follow your way to the sound. 

You walk closer to find that it’s Eren playing. 

He’s leaning over the piano, fingers lightly pressing the keys, as he hums along to the tune. You ball your hands into fists as you walk up next to him, clearing your throat, and take the seat next to him – slightly breaking his concentration from the humming. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” you ask. 

“Not at all. I was waiting for you to get here.” Eren states. 

You give him a weary look, before placing your book on the stand right next to his, before placing your hands on the keys and trying to mimic the tune that he was playing. 

“How did you know I was going to come?” 

“I had a feeling. I’ve been seeing signs.” 

You shake your head, fighting the urge to smile. 

“And what did the signs tell you?” 

“It’s not exactly that they told me something. It’s more like they were pushing me, if that makes sense.” 

You nod. 

“Pushing you where?” 

“Only place I want to be. To you, of course.” Eren responds. 

You take your hands off the keys and place them at your sides, before lifting your legs and criss crossing them on the piano bench. Eren seems to follow your cue, because he pulls his hands off the keys too, and slides over so his legs are on each side of the bench and he can face you properly. 

“Can I tell you something?” Eren asks. 

You can feel your heart racing. Like you’re imagining what’s happening. 

“You know that feeling you get sometimes, that…that this might all be like a bad dream and you’ve just woken up from it?” 

You shake your head. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

Eren reaches forward, reaching for both of your wrists before interlocking his fingers with yours. 

“Those few seconds that you really notice things…when…when you can see the love in the room.” Eren whispers. 

You tilt your head to the side, confused. Eren shakes his head, filled with an almost infinite patience to make you understand, as he leans closer. 

“I’ll give you an example. When I was a kid, I waited at a bus stop for my mom to pick me up. It was one of the rare times that she was late and I sat there and really thought about it. That she was my mother. That I only get to have one mother and she was always going to be mine – and that really I was grateful for it.” 

You smile. 

“I had another one. One of my last days of school, I met these two people who had apparently been waiting to meet me for a really long time, who wanted to pitch an idea to me. All of my teachers were telling me that it was really important so I made my best effort that morning – trying to do my hair nice despite the fact that I was filled with a nervous ball of anxiety – and made my way over to the room at the end of the class. I walked in and Hange and Levi were sitting in the chairs, leaning back and arguing about something. Every shred of nervousness I had left me the second I walked through the door and was replaced with the exact opposite when they introduced themselves to me.” 

“I’m starting to get it.” you respond. 

“The first time you slept next to me, I –” Eren’s voice cracks. 

You pale. And Eren pauses, trying to shake the nervousness from his voice, as he looks back up at you, green eyes swimming in glistening tears. 

“Eren?” you whisper. 

“The first time you slept next to me, the moon glimmered across my ceiling through the window. There were five or six seconds where there was a pale light shining over you and me, together, and I could see that you have a mole on your left cheek and another one on the side of your neck. And it was the first time I thought that I wanted to be able to stop time just there – just right there – and live in that moment forever so I could memorize what you look like. My heart was aching and it was tender in my chest because I didn’t want to move forward.” 

You bite down on your cheek, trying to stifle the tears. 

“I’ve had hundreds of those moments with you. Tracing starlight on your skin, hearing you sing at the piano, every single fucking time you’ve blessed me by kissing me. Every single one I’ve had, that you’ve…” 

Eren shakes his head, before the tears start properly falling from his eyes. 

“Every single moment you’ve privileged me by giving has made me want to stop time and stay there, with you in it, forever.” 

You swallow the hardness in your throat down. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you whisper. 

“Because I want more of them. I want so many more of them.” 

Eren looks down, his tears falling flat against the backs of your hands. 

“I want to be selfish. You’re the love in the room. You’re my moon. You’re every fucking thing I can think of and you’ve in every single good thing that I see. You take all my love with you wherever you go and I’m tired of being apart from you. You….you’re the only fucking thing I’ve wanted since the first time I’ve ever met you and everything has conspired for you and I to be here right now – and for you to let me back in.”  

“Eren.” you whisper.

“Please.” 

Eren breaks a smile. 

“Please, I don’t want to beg. I can if you want me too but, just –” he starts. 

You smile back, recognizing the same words that he had repeated to you on the beach. 

 “But do you still belong to me?” Eren asks. 

You offer him a smile, as he lifts your hands, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Please say yes.” he whispers. 

“I was only ever going to be yours to begin with, Eren.” 

You watch as Eren pinches his eyes together, like he’s almost in pain – as he recognizes what it means – before he leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ears. You give him a smile and he leans forward, almost hesitant as he closes the space between you two and smiles into the kiss. 

It’s infinitely better than the last time that you and Eren kissed on this bench, for the first time, almost ten years ago. 

Because it’s laced with all of the love that you’ve experienced with Eren – the warmth of the early love, the aching yearning in the middle, and the sweet return after all this time apart. 

He still feels the same. He’s still your Eren. 

Eren leans back, hands shaking and breathing hard as he leans against your forehead, his eyes pinched shut. 

“I love you.” Eren whispers. 

“You said that already.” you respond. 

Eren leans back and glares. But all you can do is smile – before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of his cheek. 

“I love you too.” you repeat. 

You lean forward, pressing your ear against Eren’s beating heart as he wraps his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you can’t help but burrow yourself deeper into his embrace – unable to stop the quiet tears from escaping your eyes and staining his shirt. 

“Do you think Marco’s dancing in his grave wherever he is?” Eren asks. 

You laugh. 

“For sure.” you whisper. 

Eren smiles, wiping the tears away from your eyes. 

“You know, you’re kind of stupid.” Eren says. 

“What?” 

“How did you remember the other night wrong? If you kissed me first, how did you end up with the hickey?” 

You bring your hand up to your neck, touching the skin. 

“That’s a hickey?” you ask. 

“What did you think it was?” Eren asks. 

“I don’t know, I kind of remember hitting my head when we were drunk. I assumed it was another inebriation-related injury.” 

Eren smiles, before leaning forward and pressing three kisses to your cheeks. 

“No. That was me. Kissing you.” 

You roll your eyes, as you lean forward and press your fingers into the dents of his dimples. 

“Speaking of, I have something for you. Well, more like I stole something from you, but…you get the idea.” Eren states. 

“What is it?” 

Eren reaches into his pocket, only to procure a green slip of finger, and holds it right in front of your face. You snatch it out of his fingers – recognizing his scribbled writing on the top – before you shove him in the side. 

“You took this? I thought it got lost in the mix of packing and everything.” 

You open it up and read Eren’s handwriting, of the request he gave you months prior. 

I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it. 

“This is…” 

“The stage directions from Season Two. When we were supposed to kiss, before it got cut out. I wrote it.” 

“Yeah, I can tell. Your handwriting is still as shit as it was when you were twelve.” 

Eren pauses, before snatching the slip back from you. 

“I mean, I was the one who wrote it into the script. I was helping Hange and Levi with scenes long before we knew about it. And I wrote that about you.” 

You smile, clutching the little slip close to your heart. 

The same Eren – with hundreds of gestures that fall deaf to your ears, that are never for show, and just an act of love  – letters to the Institute and stage directions filled with every part of him. 

“And I wrote the song for it too, if you want to hear it.” Eren finishes. 

You give him a nod, as you both slide your legs over the bench again, and Eren sits up and braces his fingers against the piano keys. You rest your head against his shoulder, smiling as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before his voice fills the air. 

Clear blue water High tide came and brought you in And I could go on and on, on and on, and I will Skies grew darker Currents swept you out again And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone

In silent screams In wildest dreams I never dreamed of this

This love is good This love is bad This love is alive back from the dead, oh, oh, oh These hands had to let it go free, and This love came back to me, oh, oh, oh Ohh Oh, oh, oh

Your kiss, my cheek I watched you leave Your smile, my ghost I fell to my knees When you're young, you just run But you come back to what you need

Unbeknownst to you and Eren, you’re not the only ones who have trouble sleeping that night – and you’re not the only ones who figure that spending time on set would be a good use of the time. It’s why Hange and Levi decide to trek to the set in the middle of the night. 

And when they make their way over to the set, they wriggle the door only to find that it’s already wide open and that the sound of the piano is filling the acoustics of the room. And to their sweet surprise, it’s because it's you and Eren – sitting at the piano together, pressing kisses to each other’s cheeks. 

“Levi. They’re –” 

“I know.” he whispers. 

Hange looks over at Levi, only to find him smiling from ear to ear. 

“Should we say something?” 

Levi looks over at the two of you and shakes his head. 

“No.” he whispers. 

Hange smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Let’s go back to bed.” 

“Yeah. I can finally rest in fucking peace.” Levi responds. 

--

Eren makes you breakfast the following morning. It almost gives you deja vu – but the good kind – watching him make the bowl of ramen as you stand there by his side, sitting on the counter and dangling your feet over the granite. 

Eren uses his free hand to hold yours. 

“Does it make you sad?” you ask. 

“What?” 

“That this is like our last time eating ramen in this house together.” 

Eren smiles and squeezes your hand three times. 

“No.” he responds, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You push him slightly. 

“Levi and Hange could come any minute.” 

“Are you twelve? Why would we hide this from them?” 

You pause. 

“I don’t know. I…I was kind of thinking that we’d wait to tell people, or at least everyone, until we…I don’t know. Get some time to ourselves.” you respond. 

Eren smiles. 

“I like it. We’ll do whatever you want to.” 

You frown. 

“Well, I don’t want you to follow my lead just because. If you want to scream it from the rooftops and tell everyone, I am more than happy to do that.” you clarify. 

“No, no. Really. I don’t want to tell anyone – just Levi and Hange.” Eren responds. 

You smile. 

“Okay. I can do just Levi and Hange.” 

“Are you praying on our downfall? Why did I just hear my name?” Levi asks, as he shuffles into the room and spares the two of you a glance in the kitchen. 

“But of course! What else would we do in our free time?” you respond, as you give Hange a nod as they set the kettle for Levi’s tea. 

Eren waits for the noodles to boil as he turns around, opening his arm up and tucking you into the crook of his arm, as you loop your arms around his torso. Levi spares a glance to Hange, before looking back at the two of you. 

“Do you two have something you want to share with the class?” Levi asks. 

“Nothing you haven’t guessed already.” you respond. 

Hange gives an excited squeal, before reaching forward and wrapping their arms around the two of you and screaming in your ears. 

“I am so fucking happy for you guys! I almost burst into tears when I saw you guys kissing last night!” 

You feel your eyes widen. 

“You saw us what?” 

“Levi and I were feeling all sentimental and stuff so we wanted to go over to the set just to soak it all in for the last time. When we got there, the two of you were kissing! I wanted to interrupt but I figured you know…give you your privacy and all that.” Hange squeals. 

“Thank god.” you murmur. 

It would been infinitely embarrassing if Hange and Levi were there to watch what happened after. 

“Hange. Part of leaving them there alone was also not mentioning the fact that we saw them there.” Levi deadpans. 

Levi gives Hange a passive glare, before turning back to the two of you. 

“Don’t fuck it up this time.” he states. 

You both smile. 

“We won’t.” 

“Good. Well, I’m happy for you two. I can tell that the love was worth the wait and…and all the trouble too.” 

You both look at each other and smile, before Eren turns around and starts plating the bowls. And you sink in the feeling – trying to paint all the details to memory – and compare them to the first time the four of you ate together. 

After Eren broke the bowl because of your noise cancelling headphones, Levi and Hange telling you what method acting was for the first time – Eren promising that you two were going to be the best. 

“Hey, Levi.” 

“Yeah?” he responds. 

“Did you find out anything about the people who are buying the house after us?” 

Levi turns to look at you. 

“Why do you ask?” 

You shrug. 

“I don’t know. I just want to make sure that it was someone who was going to love the house just as much as we do.” 

Levi looks back at you, before giving you a smile. 

“It’s a young couple. Margaret and Bruce. They’re big into music so they wanted the set space for the acoustics.” 

You turn back to Eren, eyes wide, as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m not sad about this breakfast at all. We have a hundred more in front of us.” he whispers, before taking the two steaming bowls to the table where Hange and Levi are sitting. 

You shake your head, unable to contain your smile, before you jump off the counter and join the three of them. 

Together, but not for the last time.

--

an: one more. someone ask for the birds of a feather track list i have it ready.

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

#seeingivywrites! #method acting #eren #eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren fluff #eren angst #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger anst #eren yeager #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager angst #aot #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot fluff #aot angst #snk #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n

[tloubae]

!Best-friends to lover Ellie Williams headcanon WlW!

I’m 100% sure Ellie is the type of person that don’t get emotionally attached with people easily, so when she met you it was strange, a immediate tuning.

So basically you two became bff pretty quickly, movie nights every saturday, she basically lives more at your place that at her own.

Everything changed when one day, you two were assigned at the mini-market of the old town, and when you were fighting some infected, from no where a runner assaulted Ellie pinning her down to the ground, her pistol was too far for her to reach. When was convinced that she would be bit by it, you showed up, blasting a bullet in the infected scalp. You tended her a hand and helped her to go back on her feet, “you good?” you asked, “yeah…” she said in a sort of scared mixed with shock tone but then she looks back to you, she sees your hair shining, your eyes glowing a little drop of blood running down to your cheek, you looked like a goddess. Ellie can feel her heart skipping a beat. She always thought that her best friend was really good looking but right now you look stunning. Seeing Ellie zooming out , you shake her up a bit “Ell?”; Ellie snaps out from her thoughts immediately, “y-yeah i’m fine”she says starting to blush a little; “okay? are you sure?” you asked seeing the suddenly change of tone; “i said i’m fine!” Ellie said looking away, “jeez chill out man” you said not understanding what was up with her.

From that day Ellie acted literally so weirdly, she can’t stand eye contact, she started to refuse to stay over your place for sleeping, when you come over to her place for movie night, she acts to shy. During the movie you in chill rested your head on her shoulder she tens up, you can see that she he squeezes his hand into a fist. It was so strange, one day is chill about everything, the next day she can barely looking into your eyes, it seems like she is avoid you.

You were so pissed by the all situation that you decided to go to her place. You stand in front of the door before knocking it “Ellie!. You can hear some muffle sound before a “coming!”. She opens the door, “we have to talk” you said passing through her. “What’s going on?” she says following you. You immediately turning around “you have to explain to me why you are ignoring me”, “i’m n-“ she tries to say but you interrupt her “you didn’t talked to me for three days straight what the heck!” you say clearly upset. “I’m not ignoring you, i just-“ “you what?!” you say getting closer “you what Ellie?”. Ellie looks down to the floor, “i just needed some space”, you feel a bit wound by her words; “okay so you thought that not talking to me was the right way to do it?”, “no i messed up”, “hell yeah you did!”. Silence came in the room, you seemed out from yourself “for what fucking reason you need space?” you say more calmly, “i need to figure something out” she says playing with her fingers, sign of distress, “it’s about our relationship”, you cross your arms “what about it?”, Ellie looks around not crossing your look, “i think i like you”. You don’t say anything, you have to process this information, your best friend likes you in a romantic way. “Ehm… i didn’t…”, “i know… gross right?” Ellie says in a rhetoric way; “no no! absolutely it’s not that!” you says trying to explain yourself; “No need really, it’s fine… forget it” Ellie looked down, she is trying to contain the tears. “Hey…” you says getting closer to her, you put a arm around her neck and the other caring her shoulder, “it’s fine” you says, she starts sobbing “i’m sorry”, she hugs you back, “shh it’s fine Ell”. After she calmed down you say “in fact i was going to say that i was fine with it… i mean i like you too, but i always thought it wasn’t in a friendly way… and i thought that you didn’t felt the same as me…” you say, brushing her tears away, and placing a gentle kiss on her lips; “there”. Ellie looks shocked at her, “we can work this out together okay?” you ask cupping her face, “okay” she says smiling at you.

Hi guys, this the first time I do something like this so be gentle 🥲, I know it’s kinda cringy but I'll get better I promise, as always if there are some mistakes remember English isn’t my first language!

Btw I’m searching for some Tlou discord server to join if you guys If you know one send me the link in the comments TY!

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie x fem reader #headcanon #tlou #tlou2 #dina tlou #fanfic #ellie x y/n

[laura1633]

i am a hoe for how you write omega max especially and the way charles is so gentle and affirming to him. absolutely feeding the praise kink!

i also think about when they have a third person involved in a heat (lowkey cant remember who was an omega oops) to help them out literally every day and AHHHHHHH i would love more thoughts lol

Haha thank you 😃, oh I love Omega Max too and I love the way Charles praises him and looks after him.

I am in the middle of writing a little bit of an omegaverse threesome at the moment. There's a very rough first draft of a section below the cut but essentially Charles has to trust another alpha to look after his omega until he can get back to him. Cue two adoring alphas being sweet and praising Max throughout his heat. Please ignore the roughness and errors in this passage 😂

As the bedroom door flies open and Charles comes hurtling in Max starts whining and reaching out for his alpha. It’s only Oscar’s quick reflexes that mean he manages to get a tight enough grip on the omega’s hips to keep them settled on his knot. 

“I’m here. I’m here. Don’t move” Charles clambers into the nest and immediately brings his lips to Max’s, the alpha completely unconcerned that his omega is currently perched on someone else’s lap. 

“Thank you so much” Charles looks genuinely relived as he smiles at Oscar, “I mean it. Thank you”

“Thats… yeah that…” Oscar can’t really process what he is trying to say because he never thought he would be in a scenario where an alpha is thanking him for knotting their omega. Their hot beautiful omega that smells of summertime and giggles and purrs so loudly when they are happy, “sorry about…” Oscar nods down to where his body is currently connected to Max.

“That’s okay” Charles’ voice is soft and smooth as he soothes his hand over Max’s jaw,“You feel good Max?”

Max nods his head and smiles awkwardly. He seems shy all of sudden but is still purring happily as he wiggles his hips and settles back down on to Oscar’s knot. 

“I bet you’ve been so good for Oscar haven’t you?” Charles coos, he looks genuinely proud. Or wildly in love. Actually, Oscar determines that it is a mixture of the two, “Has he been good?” 

“Oh” Oscar realises Charles has diverted his attention back towards him, “Oh he’s been so good. So pretty” It’s Oscar’s turn to blush a little. He’s managed to put on the strong in-control alpha act for as long as Max needed it to feel settled but now with Charles in the room Oscar guesses he doesn’t need to take charge anymore. It’s a relief, his heart is hammering in his chest and he’s just glad he’s managed to keep Max happy and in one piece. It felt very much like he’d been left in charge of some precious irreplaceable cargo. 

“Did you hear that baby?” Charles’ smile widens, “Oscar said how pretty you are. What do you say to Oscar?”

“Thank you” Max bites his lip and smiles. He looks so different to when he’s climbing out of the car and pumping his fist in the air, there’s a rosy glow to his cheeks as he glances between the two alphas. Oscar's always been fond of Max, much like anyone who spends any real time with the omega but now he thinks he truly understands why Charles is madly in love, Max is special in ways he couldn't even have begun to imagine.

#laura1633 mature asks #Lestappen omegaverse

[joeyalohadream]

Wednesday WIP, Clegan Stalag fic. Currently at 6,000 words and not done yet. Also my first ever attempt at something that isn't fluff.

Very vague premise I started with is the idea that Bucky was struggling so visibly in the Stalag, while Buck mostly seemed strong (even though we know that man was NOT okay). So I took Buck out of the equation for a bit to explore Bucky's ability to lead while dealing with his deteriorating mental state. He accidentally checked out of the leadership role with Buck there to take care of it and now he feels compelled to step up and into it with Buck gone (hopefully temporarily) but he struggles to do it without Buck by his side. Learning about himself and Buck in the process because he unintentionally left Buck to lead on his own, and now that he has to do it while Buck is away, suffering in the place of a fellow airmen, he doesn't know if he can.

Here's 800 words to test the waters.

Bucky rolled over in his bunk as the door to their hut slammed open, hitting the wall with a thud. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been dozing; he was never really sure of that these days. He was fairly confident that the boys were only coming back from the daily line-up at the potato shack. He remembers a firm squeeze to his shoulder and a murmured “Be back with your chow in a bit, just rest John,” in his favorite raspy voice and swears it was just moments ago. Returning to their broken-down hovel with bowls of potato water surely didn’t warrant the chaos that interrupted Bucky’s doze.

Lately Bucky has been fading in and out. He doesn’t know how best to describe it, and he wouldn’t try to anyway, so he avoids thinking about it as best he can. Somedays he thinks maybe he should try to describe it to Gale. He might be a man of few words, but he hardly ever fails to say exactly what Bucky needs to hear.

But every time he wants to finally open his mouth and unburden himself onto Gale, his gaze lingers on the dark bruises that seem to grow every day under his eyes. On the skin pulled taught on his pale cheekbones as he somehow manages to lose weight and color faster than any other man in the Stalag.

In the end, each time, he refuses to become a burden to Gale. He won’t add to the heavy load on his best friend’s shoulders with his own issues, even though his current issues are preventing him from helping to lessen the load like he usually would.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Bucky hears Crank’s voice cut above the anxious chatter that filled the hut.

“I don’t know Crank! We sent a runner to get Colonel Clark but what the hell is he supposed to even do?” Benny’s voice, usually calm and reasonable breaks out through the growing volume of voices in the small space and Bucky begins to gain momentum to sit up.

“Bucky get the fuck up,” Brady’s uncharacteristically harsh voice almost stops Bucky in his tracks, but he manages to get to his feet as he finally looks around to observe the faces of the men around him. They all look some combination of angry and scared. Bucky observes every face in the room, noting that his favorite face of them all is missing, before turning to Brady.

“Where’s Buck?”

Brady shakes his head and turns away from Bucky, looking somehow both more angry and more scared than anyone else in the room and Bucky feels the fog lift from his brain as his heart starts to pound faster in his chest.

“Where the fuck is Buck?” Bucky questions the room. His gaze flicks over the faces of his men, watching as most of them shuffle their feet and avoid eye contact with him. He swears he can feel his blood cool in his veins as he takes a step forward and grabs Benny around his collar and pulls him forward.

“Where is he Benny?” Bucky shakes him, feeling more alive than he has since before he walked into that phone booth in London.

“They beat him,” Benny breathes out. “Then they took him to the cooler.”

Bucky drops his hands, releasing Benny’s jacket and stumbling back a step.

“What?” He can’t help but stare at Benny uncomprehending because Gale is a senior officer in here. He goes to meetings with the Krauts and negotiates for supplies and he’s fucking Gale. Gentle, quiet, loving Gale and how could anyone hurt him?

“For how long?” Bucky practically yells. The cooler? He thinks and feels his heart sink. Gale can’t go to solitary confinement, none of them can survive this place alone and Gale has been wasting away even in a room full of people who care about him.

“Do we look like we speak German Bucky? We don’t fucking know anything!” Crank snaps at him.

“Why?” He needs answers. Disrespecting the guards gets you thrown in the cooler. Trying to escape gets you thrown in the cooler and none of them are going anywhere without a plan and each other. Gale wouldn’t do anything to get himself thrown into solitary, none of them would. Except me, Bucky thinks and then immediately feels shame.

Bucky reels back as every head in the room turns in the same direction at once and he follows their gaze, shocked when his eyes end up on Alex, leaning against the wall in the corner.

Silence envelops the room and Bucky takes a step towards him.

“I was working on the maps,” Alex says, still staring at the floor. “I didn’t see the Krauts coming, but Buck did.”

#clegan #buck x bucky #mota fanfic #mota fic #gale cleven #john egan #mota drabble #bucky egan

[stellari-s]

Omfg ithaqua centric tumblrs exist/j

I don't know I'd your still doing requests but can I request ithaqua with a reader who's rlly sweet and nice and everything, but the manor did like a swap with the survivors and hunters so that the hunters are the ones that run from the survivors and when Reader is picked they go NUTS. Like everyone's out and injured in like 2 minutes. After the event reader goes back to normal but if people look closely, Reader's picked up a bit of a hunger for blood sometimes...

✨

haha, ikr, and gosh, i’m really slow, i hope you’ll forgive me! but i will try my best with your request! i don’t end up describing the details of the match much rather than implying what happened, so i hope that’s ok.

request; yes, by anon! requests are currently closed, but my commissions are open if you’re interested.

wc; 945.

tags; default! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader (who becomes hunter), reader treats ithaqua’s injuries.

summary; miss nightingale had come with a sudden announcement — survivors and hunters were going to switch places! and so, you are put into a match with ithaqua as the last one standing…

this very day was like a fever dream — but would it be a dream if one could see a subtle, yet irreversible change?

“a switch?”

ithaqua stayed silent, but he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. though he said little, his feelings reflected that of everyone else’s in the room where miss nightingale had gathered all the hunters on a whim to make the very announcement of a role switch. he honestly harbored mixed feelings on the prospect of being the one chased, rather than the one doing the chasing, but more than that...

he thought back to a certain face among the survivors. a seemingly innocent face, whose kindness knew no bounds. would they be up for the task, he wondered?

robbie’s enthusiastic voice dragged ithaqua from his thoughts back into reality.

“oh oh, does this mean we get to play something like reverse tag?”

“seems like it,” ithaqua muttered in reply.

miss nightingale nodded once everyone had settled down (or, displayed some semblance of having settled down). “i’m glad we are on the same page. gather in lakeside in one hour if you are called upon, and take care not to be late.”

when miss nightingale left, murmurs immediately broke out among the hunters.

...there really is something off with her. i don’t like it.

nonetheless, ithaqua had no right to refuse; he could only sigh and wait for an hour to pass.

“survivors will become the hunters?”

this was news to you. what in the world could have brought on this change in the manor owner’s heart?

...not that you could really understand him. in fact, many things in the manor had been intriguing.

little things piqued your interest, and whispered rumors became a source of curiosity.

“i’m not sure i feel comfortable facing against hunters... as a hunter,” helena said, “wouldn’t you agree, (y/n)?”

“hm?” you looked at helena, who had a resigned smile on her lips.

i suppose it would be difficult for her, considering she can’t see. then again, she has a cane, so maybe she’s fine, and her personality is just too kind?

some survivors were fit to be a hunter, but helena was not one of them. it wasn’t a bad thing; it simply wasn’t her strength.

you flashed her a gentle smile of your own. “it is definitely a sudden development. i can understand the difficulty in processing it.”

you neither confirmed nor denied it.

—— 20 minutes later.

there was only one hunter left now: ithaqua.

you had noticed this in previous matches against him when he was hunter, but even with those stilts that looked so easy to trip in, ithaqua was very quick on his feet. there was clearly a lot of skill in maneuvering around with those.

you would spot him, and you would chase after him, only for him to slip between your fingers like locks of hair.

while his appearance resembled that of a supernatural creature to be feared, you found through spending time with him outside of matches that he was not a bad person. in fact, he was quite nice behind that colder facade.

if it were other survivors, they would probably be more cautious around ithaqua.

finally, you caught up to him in the small boat in lakeside village. “you’re the only one left standing, ithaqua,” you said, “yet you won’t surrender. do you think two hours will pass before i can catch you?”

ithaqua chuckled. “i’ll take your words as a compliment.”

“as they are meant to be. but i think two hours is quite a long time, so will you allow me to catch you before then?”

“if you’re going to catch me, do it with your own abilities.”

you shrugged, a resigned smile playing on your lips. “i suppose it can’t be helped then.”

it turned out you didn’t need him to “allow” you.

after the match, which had lasted around half an hour total, ithaqua hissed a little in pain as you wrapped the bandage around his arm, where he had cut himself.

“would it hurt to be a little more gentle treating my wound?”

“oh, don’t you know? it’s better to wrap the gauze more tightly. i do sincerely apologize for the... slightly rough handling toward the end of the match though. so please just think of this as repayment.”

ithaqua fell silent. this was one of the rare times he had his mask off, so you could see his eyes narrowed, his brows furrowed, and his lips pursed as he averted his pale blue eyes.

“what’s wrong?” you waved a hand in front of him.

“i don’t know. but is it just me or do you just look... a little different?”

“hm?”

he turned to look at you for a brief moment before retracting his arm. “it’s nothing. thanks for treating my arm.”

ithaqua stood up and tried to walk out of the room, but you called after him as his hand made contact with the knob.

“hey, ithaqua.”

he stood in frozen in place like a statue, as if contemplating whether or not he should turn out. in the end, he stayed still as he replied, “what?”

though he wouldn’t be able to see it, you flashed a smile his way.

“i look forward to the next match.”

you could have sworn you saw his shoulders twitch slightly upon hearing your words. he then turned around (to your surprise) and, with a sharp tone, shouted “well i don’t!” before shutting the door behind him.

you couldn’t help but let out a lighthearted laugh — he kind of reminded you of a cat.

a cat surely worth chasing, you reckoned.

#divider by cafekitsune #identity v #idv #id5 #第五人格 #idv ithaqua #identity v ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v night watch #id5 ithaqua #夜の番人 #idv x reader #identity v x reader #identity v fanfic #idv fanfic #idv fic #ithaqua x reader #idv hunter #gn reader

[enwifen]

my boyfriend’s a nail tech! (p.js)

pairing. boyfriend!jay x fem reader

genre. domestic, fluff, slice of life

warnings. jay wearing what he is in the photo (ofc that’s a very reasonable warning!), jay loving head scratches

wc. 741

Jay watches in awe as you paint your nails. His eyes following each swipe of the applicator against each nail, the pucker of your lips gently blowing the vibrant paint dry and most importantly, the cute furrow of your eyebrows in concentration. The harsh acetone smell made him feel a little dizzy but watching you was worth it to him.

“I can feel you staring you know.” You giggle, narrowing your eyes at your hand whilst cleaning up the edges of your nails with a q-tip.

“Sorry, watching you is just… interesting.” Your boyfriend admits.

“Interesting? Well, you’re cute when you stare so dont let me stop you~”

“I’m not cute.” Jay pouts, immediately contradicting his own statement.

“Sure, sure.” You smile. Being right handed, painting your right hand was something you never enjoyed. It always took way too long, your left hand always seemed to tremble for no reason…

But then you realise the handsome guy sat next to you, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. The acetone was really getting to him but he wouldn’t admit that, of course. “Hey seongie?”

He hums in response, smiling at the cute nickname. “Wanna help me? I’m not really good at painting my right…”

“Ah sure… but, baby, I can’t promise I’ll do a better job than you.” He chuckles somewhat nervously. You reassure him that it’s fine, plus, your boyfriend was a perfectionist so he couldn’t be that bad.

A kiss is pressed to his forehead, it’s easier with the position he’s in. Head ducked down to zero in on painting your nails, he just looks so adorable, how could you not?

“Am I doing okay? I think it doesn’t look too bad…” he mumbles.

“Mhm, you’re doing such a good job, seongie. Try starting at the top of my nail and slowly drag down instead of starting from the middle.” Jay nods, immediately responding to your feedback. For someone who was painting nails for the first time, he was pretty good. There was little to no mess on your nail folds.

Hell, you’re sure he was ready to become a nail tech if he wanted to. He wouldn’t, it’s a silly thought. You know well Jay would only do things like this for you and his only.

The process is actually enjoyable for him too, he can’t look at you but he can feel you. Your quiet but steady breathing, the soft skin of your hand, the warmth and love contained in each word of praise spoken to him.

“Done!” He beams. You mirror his happiness as you stare at both his and your own artwork.

“You did such a good job! I love it!” Jay smiles as he’s rewarded with a few complimentary kisses.

While you’re busy air drying your nails, you notice your boyfriend wincing out of the corner of your eye.

You frown at this, voice laced with concern. “Seongie? Is everything okay?”

He nods but his head being in his hands clearly states otherwise. “I’m fine, baby, I promise, it’s just… your nail polish smells really strong and… i Don’t feel so good…” he says, laughing it off in an attempt to ease your worries. It doesn’t work and you’re immediately getting up to open a window as well as clearing the table of all your nail products.

Pouting, you come back to sit next to him. “I’m sorry baby… I know you’re sensitive to smells, I-”

You’re cut off by another kiss. “It’s alright, love, I’ll be fine.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Jay looks at you knowingly and a grin instantly spreads across your lips. “C’mere.”

A comfortable weight settles on top of you, Jay burying his face in your neck. The soft scent of your fruity body wash helps with his headache a little. Now that your nails are dry, you’re able to reach up and gently scratch at his scalp. Almost immediately, Jay melts into a puddle of mush.

The two of you stay like that for a while, silently relishing in each other’s company. You scratching Jay’s head whilst his thumbs gently caress the skin of your sides.

“I should get back to work…” he mutters halfheartedly. You know he doesn’t actually want to and neither do you.

“Mm… just stay with me a little longer?” You say, despite already having been laying with him for just under half an hour.

Jay chuckles softly. “Okay baby.”

#enha fluff #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #enha jay #jay x reader #park jongseong #jay park #park jongseong fluff #park jeongseong fic #enhypen jay

[bestworstcase]

Re: this post which kind of threw a gigantic wrench into one of the Subtle Early Series Things That I Will Not Shut Up About, what's your read on the pinkish orbs of light that spill out of Pyrrha's chest wound at the Fall of Beacon? For the longest time I'd understood it as the tiniest bit of Maiden magic that the ATM had put into her, as the only other time we've seen a dying character emit a visible mass of light was Amber (It was also my explanation at the time for Ruby hearing Pyrrha's voice in v4, that her little micro-maidenhood passed onto Ruby per the last thoughts rules [she looks over towards Ruby before she dies]). But. As you pointed out, the magic draining out of Amber doesn't match her aura. It's gold, not yellow-orange. It's possible I guess that visible soul-leakage was originally going to just be A Thing in the setting and was later walked back, but I still feel like it means something and can't wrap my head around exactly what that something could be. The main contenders I guess are either still something Maiden-related, or maybe its a SEW thing? Can Ruby just like, see people's souls sometimes?? Why would something like this happen for Pyrrha but never anyone else?

y’know how

and then adam flicks yang’s blood off his sword as he advances but there notably ISN’T any blood gushing out from her severed arm or pooling on the floor, after?

taps the gold glow. this isn’t just a stylistic choice to be tasteful and artistic about the gore; adam cuts off her arm and yang’s aura FLOODS there to cauterize the wound, burning off in the process. it can’t heal her severed arm, but it can save her from bleeding out.

similarly,

if that arrow pierced her sternum, there’s a good chance it struck through her heart or aorta and this is pyrrha’s aura flooding the wound to stop the bleeding.

there are four Other occasions when we see characters sustain similar injuries without this soul-leakage, but:

cinder ran weiss through with a burning-hot spear, AND weiss had just had her aura broken; so a) the wound was cauterized almost instantly and b) weiss may not have had enough aura left to flood in any case.

hazel gets impaled by weiss’s queen lancer, BUT hazel is noted to have extremely efficient aura regen (ergo: control of his aura) AND he has a semblance that can blot out physical pain AND there aren’t really any major arteries in that area. (on either side of the torso; even without aura being a factor at all getting impaled where weiss or hazel did is a very survivable injury.)

anyway the other two are

vernal and penny. vernal is kind of the odd one out here because i don’t think we ever see her aura At All (i’m inclined to chalk this one up to an animation oversight tbh? the battle of haven is a mite unclear / inconsistent about aura across the board). but with penny obviously any aura-flooding event just gets vacuumed by cinder’s arm. and then her aura’s down until jaune amps her with his semblance, which wouldn’t cause flooding because both his and her aura are under conscious control.

(though it’s also entirely possible that the ‘flooding’ effect was just discarded after the switch to maya for aesthetic reasons. lmao)

but yeah basically i think it’s like. a symptom of medical shock. where all your available aura rushes to stanch the bleeding and there’s such an intense sudden concentration of energy there that you essentially Bleed Aura to keep your blood inside… & if you have enough aura (like yang did) this can fully cauterize the wound in seconds whereas if you’re low (pyrrha, penny) you’ll run out of aura before the wound is sealed. and then we don’t see this with even quite serious injuries to parts of the body that lack major arteries or in cases where the injured person is either tapped out (weiss) or exceptionally skilled and focused (hazel).

[twinklingstar1ights]

Project Partners

Hyunwoo Summary: You never talked to Hyunwoo before getting assigned to do a project with him. WC:~1k Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Hyunwoo was a boy who sat three rows in front of you. That’s all that you could say about him. The two of you never talked before. The only interaction you’ve had with him was accidentally locking eyes with each other.

“Next partners I have are Hyunwoo and y/n,” your teacher announced. Looks like things were about to change. 

Hyunwoo looked back to where you sat three rows behind him. You motioned with your hand that you would move up to join him. You gathered your things and made the short walk over to Hyunwoo’s row. He scooted over to the next seat, so that you could sit down. 

“Hey,” you greeted him. 

“Hi.” He smiled at you warmly. 

“I’m glad we’re partners,” you say. Hyunwoo feels his heart stop for a moment. You were glad to be partners with him? He didn’t think you had any cares about him. “Ah, I just mean I’m glad that I’m partners with you and not someone I don’t even know the name of. I don’t really have any friends in this class,” you further explained. 

Hyunwoo can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up that you might actually be at least a little bit into him. Because he was so into you. Always turning around to look at where you sat three rows back. He always wanted to start some sort of conversation with you, but he didn’t know how. It was oddly nerve wracking for him. Even your accidental eye contacts left him with burning cheeks. However this project was too good of an opportunity to let go to waste. 

“Then let’s change that. I’m Hyunwoo,” he introduced himself. You let out a little laugh. He was one of the few people in class you actually knew the name of. 

“I’m y/n,” you introduced yourself back nonetheless.​​ The rest of class you two spent figuring out how you were gonna do the project. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Hyunwoo,” you say plopping down into the seat next to him. Hyunwoo realizes how much more he likes you sitting beside him rather than sitting three throws back.

“Hey. How’s your day so far?” He dared to make the conversation longer. 

“It’s good. Yours?” you returned. 

“Mine's good too,” he smiled at you.

You both were now busy working on the project. You were busy writing down notes while Hyunwoo was putting the information into slides. It was a very comfortable silence between the two of you as you worked. Occasionally you would stop to ask each other’s opinions. 

“What do you think of the layout for this slide?” Hyunwoo asked you. You put your pen down and scooted closer to Hyunwoo to take a better look at the slide. In the process of this your arm was now resting right against Hyunwoo’s. While you didn’t seem to notice the sudden skinship Hyunwoo definitely did. Your touch brought electricity to his skin. It made it hard for him to focus on what you were saying. It didn’t really help his case that afterwards you left your arm resting against his. He didn’t want to be delusional, but there was no way you didn’t know about your arms touching right? He decided to test the waters by gently tapping his fingers against the back of your hand. His face stayed glued to the screen of the slides while his eyes peeked sideways to see your reaction. 

The moment you feel Hyunwoo’s fingers tap against your hand a smile creeps its way onto your face. Because yes your arm did accidentally meet his, but you purposefully left it there. You enjoyed the warmth of his skin against yours. It made your heart dance. You returned the action, drumming your own fingers against the back of his hand. You turn your head to the side and catch Hyunwoo’s gaze. The pair of you sheepishly smile at one another. A light shade of pink dusting both of your cheeks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was presentation day for your projects and you were a nervous wreck. You hated presenting, it was one of the worst possible things for you to do. Your nerves couldn’t settle as you bounced your leg anxiously. 

“Are you alright?” Hyunwoo asked you.

“No,” you laughed. “I hate presenting. It stresses me out so bad,” you say. Your hand finds its way to Hyunwoo’s and you interlace your fingers with his. You weren’t even fully conscious that you did. You were just trying to find a source of comfort. Hyunwoo was very much aware of this action as he stared at your hand holding his. He doesn’t say anything about it though. He simply locks his fingers with yours. 

“What if I forget how to speak? I could totally forget how to speak,” you rambled.

“I’ll take care of most of the speaking, ok? I’ll be up there with you, don't worry,” he comforted you. 

It was time for you and Hyunwoo to present and you were feeling your nerves spike as the two of you walked to the front of the classroom. The two of you got set up. You can feel yourself shaking and all you can do is pray that your classmates don’t notice. That’s when you feel something brush against your pinky. You turn to look and see that Hyunwoo has wrapped his own pinky around yours. He gives you an encouraging nod. You got this. 

“Did I do ok?” you asked once you got back to your seats. 

“You did great,” he told you. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. 

“No problem,” he replied. 

“I was talking about holding my pinky,” you clarified. 

“Oh.” A blush creeped up his neck. “That was no problem too,” he shyly smiled. 

“I liked it,” you state. 

“I like you,” he confessed. It certainly wasn’t how he planned to confess, but it just naturally came out. Now you’re the one with a blush creeping up your neck. 

“Me too, I like you too,” you confessed back. Yours and Hyunwoo’s hands found each other again, resting intertwined on his lap. Safe to say even now that the project was complete you and Hyunwoo continued to sit beside each other.

a/n: I was wondering what to post for my first work on this account. Then I had a dream with Hyunwoo in it, so I took that as my answer lol.

@chiiyuuvv I did it!

#xikers x reader #hyunwoo x reader #hyunwoo #hyunwoo xikers #xikers hyunwoo #xikers imagines #xikers fluff #choi hyunwoo #choi hyunwoo x reader

[arokel]

To the Victor

Rating: G Pairing: Don/Bobby, Bobby/OMC Tags: Pre-relationship, pining, jealous don, awkward flirting Notes: inspired by @savvylittlecoxswain 's fantastic Poughkeepsie headcanon !

ao3

“Is your scowly friend back there a republican, by any chance?”

It takes Bobby a second to parse the words. He’s not used to the way Frank speaks - polished, refined, but underneath all that education and money there’s still a trace of the East Coast drawl that usually sets Bobby’s blood boiling to hear. But they aren’t out on the water, and Frank isn’t his opponent, and a few times now Bobby has gotten so lost in that cognitive dissonance and all the fascinating contradictions making up Frank’s voice that he’s completely missed the substance.

He cranes his neck to look behind him, mind catching on the most useful part of the sentence: scowly. And Roger is staring wide-eyed at a bust of Agrippa tucked into a bookshelf, which means…

“Who, Don? Don’t think so, but I doubt it’d matter anyway. New Deal’s done a lot for all of us boys.”

Frank’s grin, wide and toothy and as perfectly politic as the rest of him, warms with a sincere relief that seems to light Bobby up from the inside. This is the reason people win elections, he thinks. You just have to be handsome and charming enough and people turn to butter. Even Bobby, strong-willed as he is, feels a little weak in the knees.

“That’s wonderful news. I’m sure my father will be glad to hear it too,” Frank says, with a tone as casual as if he hasn’t just promised to personally relay Bobby’s gratitude to the President of the United States. “Must be another reason this Don fellow dislikes me, then, if it’s not politics.”

Bobby blinks, pulled back to reality by the mention of Don. “Oh - no, Don likes most people. He’s just a bit stone-faced. Killer smile when you can coax it out of him, though.”

It’s not a smile like Frank’s, broad and easy and inviting. It’s something much sweeter, something that brings an answering smile to Bobby’s lips just thinking about it - shy, private, and so brilliant it almost glows. Bobby would vote for Frank Roosevelt; he would go to the ends of the earth for Don Hume.

“Maybe he’s jealous,” Frank says.

“Of what?”

Frank’s grin turns sly, and only then does Bobby realize, with a cold thrill even in the face of that warm smile, that he’s been caught out. His only saving grace is that Frank seems pleased to know it.

“Could be plenty of things,” he says, drawing out the words with an obvious relish. “Putting myself in his shoes… he’s your stroke, right? So you come here, you meet some moneyed easterner, and you spend your night talking tactics with him - well, if I fancied myself the underdog I’d be glaring daggers at me too.”

“He’s not glaring daggers,” Bobby says, bristling. Don would be well within his rights to be pissed at Bobby over all that, if indeed he is pissed; Frank doesn’t need to make it sound petty.

Frank, with a politician’s ease, shrugs it off. “Maybe he thinks he’s a better rower. Maybe he thinks he’s more handsome.”

The second is accompanied by an exaggerated wink, and Bobby grudgingly allows himself to be charmed. Frank can’t help the arrogance, to a degree; that’s just what being raised an easterner with money gets you.

He laughs along. “For a politician’s son, you’re not very discreet.”

“You should have seen your face when you brought up his smile. Biggest cow-eyes I ever saw. Didn’t think there was much need for subtlety after that, though I don’t have high hopes of it getting me anywhere,” Frank says, shaking his head ruefully. “Go un-ruffle your stroke’s feathers. I’ll still be here if it turns out he really does just think he’s a better rower.”

Once again Bobby finds himself struggling to process the words, but this time it has nothing to do with Frank’s accent.

“Thanks,” he says vaguely, eyes already seeking out Don, who is much closer to ‘glaring daggers’ than Bobby took him to be after all. “He is a better rower, by the way.”

Frank ducks his head in a gracious admission of defeat. “I don’t doubt it.”

Don’s face does brighten at Bobby’s approach, though you’d have to know him fairly well to notice the shift. Bobby, who has spent a good number of months cataloging Don’s every expression and could probably call himself the foremost expert in reading Don Hume’s moods, sees it right away. He slides in along the ornately-patterned wall beside Don, kicking his feet out nonchalantly and knocking their elbows together, and watches another cloud dissipate.

Bobby shoots him an exaggerated frown. “Why the thunderclouds?”

“Just feel out of place, I guess,” Don says, with an unconvincing shrug. “All this wealth, when we’re putting paper in our shoes. And the president’s son welcoming us in and talking with us like we’re all the same.”

“Frank’s nice when you give him a chance.”

Although now, outside the radius of that smile, Bobby can admit that some of Frank’s charm is dependent on whether he’s actively turning it on you.

Don hums in clear skepticism. At a loss, Bobby tries for the most plausible of Frank’s harebrained, flirtatious theories. “Don’t worry, you’re a better rower than he is.”

“I know I am,” Don says, with a rare touch of arrogance. It looks good on him. Then he frowns again. “You know that just from talking strategy with him?”

So, it’s not that. Nor is it Frank’s initial conjecture - not that Bobby ever thought it was; Don is too steady for that kind of pettiness. And there’s no world in which it’s the final one.

“I’m a good cox,” Bobby says simply. “And you’re the best.”

Don snorts.

Bobby doubles down. “Scoff all you want, but two months from now you’ll have an Olympic medal and he won’t.”

“Then why is he smirking?”

Bobby knows the answer to that. What he doesn’t know is how Frank’s self-effacing grin, which reminds Bobby so strongly of a losing candidate on election night, could make Don think anything other than the truth: that when it comes to Bobby, Don has already won.

#the boys in the boat #don hume/bobby moch #don hume x boddy moch

[bambeebirdie]

Watched rise of the beasts and genuinely when Mirage sacrificed himself for Noah I thought it was going to be fine because like he put something important (like his spark or something) in the hand gun Noah had on. So even he died he wouldn’t actually die die because his spark wasn’t there. But no, we got weird Ironman suit instead.

That’s like the one part of the movie that really got under my skin. I hate it when humans get transformer power ups. Now if Noah just had like a big gun on the back of Bee, I’d be all for him having a TF weapon and killing bots, but he didn’t. He got a weird suit and I think that’s weird. I just really cannot stand when humans get transformer powers.

#hand gun. get it? #movies not that bad #it’s by no means my new favorite but like it’s pretty alright #i just have complaints because I always have complaints #sad that I not got to see a still of them beast wars alts. funny that you only see them in battle #but like I can’t really process what they look like like that #no Airzor alt mode :( #so I’m both upset and find it amusing #so I’m really not that upset about it #hate the Ironman suit thing too #weird transformer stuff humans wear is the worst imo #i don’t like it when they’re that important #i don’t like earth spark for that reason too (yet I keep watching it. it’s such a show) #transformers rise of the beasts #rise of the beasts spoilers #transformers rise of the beasts spoilers #transformers rotb #rotb noah #rotb mirage #rotb spoilers #ooo btw so sorry if this is incoherent. i am struggling on so many levels rn #someone I watched it with said it was kinda like a rich white person movie but they covered it up by making the main cast no white #and I feel like they’re kinda onto something with that comment

[8rujaa]

my therapist really saved me….

#tw abuse // tw sa #i can’t sleep bc i keep thinking about this. #like i probably would’ve not been here if it weren’t for her #i started seeing her january of 2023… my life has changed entirely since then and she was definitely the one who got the ball rolling #literally so much has changed since then and it’s all because of her #i was so dissociated during our first few sessions #thanks to her i was able to get diagnosed and medicated for adhd. i was able to realize i was in an abusive situation and plan a way out #i was able to focus on myself and my healing and she’s helped me reframe so much of my negative thinking #i was able to process a lot of emotions and become a better version of myself with each session #she’s truly incredible. #i remember the first comment she made about the relationship had been ‘’so it’s like there’s an imbalance of control in the relationship’’ #i had put my partners on such a high pedestal that i had no idea they could be doing anything wrong #and i asked her what she meant and she said ‘from what you’ve been describing it’s sounds like a strict parents and child type of dynamic’ #she told me they didn’t need to understand why i wanted to leave and they didn’t need to make that decision. if that’s what was going to be #best for me the only thing i could do is let them know my reasoning and simply leave. i didn’t need their permission.’’ #i remember being so confused at that realization bc like… i had been putting their emotions over mine the whole time i had forgotten simply #doing what’s best for me was an option… l #ever since then i’ve been putting myself first and it’s been a steady uphill from rock bottom… i’ve made an incredible amount of progress #when i first started with her getting out of bed and walking to the kitchen was incredibly difficult and took all my strength. #yesterday i conquered a mountain!!!!!!! i hiked all the way to the top!!!!! :D #me a year ago thought it was going to take me years and years to recover. as soon as i left i made leaps of progress #im incredibly proud of myself and grateful for her. and my reiki lady she’s also been a great great help. #the silver lining is i realized who really matters. and the relationships i cared about deepened. #my sweet virgo friend was the one who was always like ‘THATS A GROWN ASS MAN WHO CANT UNDERSTAND BASIC CONSENT???’ #LMFAO i would be like ‘but he has trauma and bla bla bla’ she looked me dead in the eyes and said #’jess you said with your last boyfriend that you would never make excuses for a man who was hurting you again. stop defending him.’ #she’s really a gem and i treasure her with my life. i hope she knows i love her. she’s family at this point #she’s also literally saved my life before (like deadass called 911 for help) #im glad i had the support system i had. that was a rough situation with so many layers and im glad i got through it #my 22nd year of life was by far the worst of my life and i don’t ever want to put myself in that situation again. im glad i learned.

[goatskickin]

I WOULD retexture objects again, but I just really hate everything thing about the process of doing it

#SimPE being just ugly #can’t see what I’m looking at not like I want #napping is almost always horrible #don’t even get me started on maxis objects #mapped like actual DICK and ASS #stretched in ways I do not expect #PLEASE can I have a bodyshop for objects #even GUIDS and renaming packages and all that simPE fussing #such a PROCESS I can’t believe it endured it for as long as I did #clothing and hairs are a lot more satisfying rn #AND AGAIN ILL COMPLAIN ABOUT MAXIS MAPPING #I’d really love to do some wood textures on stuff but object retexturing annoys me from start to finish #end rant #cc making discussions