#i know i said the previous one was the last one for a while but THIS is the last one for a while i prommy

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 7

Read Ding here | ~4.6k words

Warnings: punching, fighting, fixing my cliff hanger from the previous part.

From me: This is the last part, but I tried to keep the ending open a bit so I could come back if you want 💕 thanks for reading this one. Hope you liked it!

Summary: Harry isn't the only one fighting the night of the biggest match of his career.

Three minutes.

Each round was three minutes.

She thought over the last few months of watching Harry train had engraved a three-minute timer into her internal clock. Like her mind was able to simultaneously count out 180 seconds and continue working on whatever project she was tasked with at the time.

The crowd was so loud—just several feet behind a door. She thought about her phone. The one she left with Niall so it wouldn’t get lost while she tried to get towels, food, and use the restroom. Alongside Harry’s phone. Part of her believed even if she could have used it, Niall wouldn’t have heard it anyway. She straightened her back, standing taller and preparing herself. She pulled against his grip on her arm. Her heart was pounding but she felt it in her bones.

She could do this. She had to do this.

She heard Harry’s voice teaching her all the self-defense moves she had practiced for months in the back of her head. She thought about the classes, the training in her living room.

The goal isn’t to win. S’not a boxing match. Want t’minimize you getting hurt. Your only goal is t’get away safely. If y’get away, you’re gonna come find me, Cupcake. M’not gonna let anything happen t’you.

“What’s your problem?” She snapped.

“You told other girls about me?”

“No, I warned them.” He narrowed his eyes as he stared at her.

“You’re a bitch.” She tried to keep the nerves from getting to her.

She could run out the back door and try her best to get to the front again. Harry would understand. It would be better than being the sitting duck she was now. There was the whole no phone thing but at least the security guard would recognize her. He would keep an eye on her. No way he’d be willing to face the wrath of Harry for not doing so.

She pulled on her arm again trying to loosen his grip. She thought about the shower she took after their date. If it could really be called a date. Despite everything happening in the moment she had the intense desire to look up the definition of date because that could nothave been a date. A date had to have some sort of mutual feeling of companionship or amicable emotion. The way his body felt on hers made her skin crawl.

She didn’t want it then and she didn’t want it now.

“Let go,” she ordered.

“You’re—”

“I said let go,” she pulled hard, dragging both of them further back into the room but closer to the backdoor.

“Stop—”

“Let go, or you’ll regret it.”

He chuckled; it sounded sarcastic. Disbelief evident in his tone—even his short laughter. “What are you going to do?” He taunted. Honestly, part of her wanted to know the same thing. What was his plan? Attack her alone in the back of this place? It was obvious. Niall would come looking for her sooner or later. Someone would come back here because they needed towels. It was a matter of when not if. All she needed to do was hold him off.

Fortunately, she had been given all the lessons on how to do just that.

“Let go,” she repeated, feeling stronger than that awful night and more so than she had in the months since. “Harry—”

“Your boyfriend is busy.”

With a deep breath, she realized she had lost count of the seconds. Was the round over? She didn’t know. But she knew Harry was safe. Harry would never fuck around with consent. He said so himself. Harry was going to rip Jack’s arm off. Hell, Harry would rip his own arm off if she asked him to.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Clenched her jaw and yanked on her wrist in his hand again. “If you don’t let go, he’s going to see. Then you’ll wish you never touched me,” she vowed.

He smiled darkly. “He’s not going to see,” he promised.

Despite how much stronger she felt than the day she met him, she was still scared. Her stomach twisted; nausea ensued. There was a genuine fear growing inside her that felt very similar to how it felt right before she thought was going to throw up. The feeling rose to her throat, and it took all her control to swallow it back down. She inhaled deeply through her nose and brought all the steps and moves Harry had taught her in the self-defense classes to the forefront of her mind.

Jack was bigger, stronger, and way more terrifying than she was.

But she was determinedto get away.

“Let. Go.” She ground her teeth together tugging on her arm that she knew was going to bruise.

“Just—”

“I’m going to scream,” she could see the irritation on his face as she continued to interrupt him.

“Don’t you dare you stupid, little—”

She was glad her dominant hand was free and used it smashed her palm into his nose so hard she felt a crunch and was immediately met with a stream of blood. It poured immediately on her hand, and she should have been more grossed out but before she could think about it for long, she bolted back for the main room.

He groaned loudly but chased after her. He reached her at the door, grabbed her arm, and flung her back to the ground. She yelped as her body landed with a thud. Her head hit the ground making her wince involuntarily. She could hear people cheering. No one would hear her if she screamed. He knew that.

Harry wouldn’t get to her.

The mere thought terrified her.

She kicked. Making minimal contact with some part of him but did leave him incapacitated for just a moment—a moment she needed. He cursed lowly under his breath. Her mind was working at the same slow pace she crawled and clawed at the ground, blood dripping on her shirt from his nose as he stood over her clutching his groin. Harry told her the most vulnerable position she could be was defending herself on her back. She was mortified. Her adrenaline screamed through her veins.

The announcer was calling something about Harry and the match. There’s a ding, ding, ding signaling the end of the round or the beginning of the next. She didn’t know anymore. All she knew was she wanted to be in there. She wanted Harry to see her. She was certain he would stop in the middle of a round for her.

“You broke my nose,” He snarled.

It took every ounce of her self-restraint to keep her mouth from saying good with a smug smile. Her heart was in her throat. Clawing uselessly at the floor knowing she wasn’t going to get anywhere at that rate. She kicked again, trying to remember the training and the moves Harry made her practice in her apartment. Her instinct was taking over and arguably making it worse for her just as Harry had warned.

The air suddenly felt so thin. It was difficult for her to keep breathing steady—scared and anxious out of her mind. She could see little black dots in her vision with anxiety taking over. The roar of the crowd made everything she needed to do impossible to focus on.

But the little voice in her head had a nearly melodic British accent now. Slow, steady. Encouraging.

It screamed at her to get up and keep going.

She slammed her foot into his leg, just at his knee, knocking him off balance. He landed just as hard as she did. She knew he was going to get up quick, so she needed to be quicker. She leapt from the floor and burst through the double doors. She sprinted toward the ring. He was hot on her heels she could feel it, but she didn’t stop—couldn’t stop. Not when security shouted at her and not when the attention of people watching finally got them yelling for her.

She told Harry earlier that day she wasn’t lucky. But at that moment she was. Perhaps the luckiest person ever. She felt it in her bones, and she planned to thank every divine spirit in the universe when she reflected on it later. There was the briefest moment in every round right after the bell rang where there was the slightest down pitch in volume as the cheering stopped and people waited to see who would make the first move in the ring.

That moment happened the second she was close enough for her voice to carry the final distance to Harry. “Harry!” Her voice was cracked and broken but she knewhe heard it just because of the volume of her shriek. She believed everyone in the arena heard it.

She wasn’t quiet about it; just like Harry (and Louis) taught her. Her voice was so loud even the referee looked over and watched as the man chasing her grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back to the floor. Her head hit hard against the hardwood. Stars reappeared in her vision, and she wondered if this was what a concussion felt like. For a moment she was stunned. Forgot that she was supposed to be fighting for her safety. Defending herself. The seconds ticked by so slowly, she wondered if she was going to pass out. There was a deafening quiet, muffled shouting; like a scene in a movie where the hero is aware of her surroundings but can’t quite get a grasp on it.

It was weird it was happening to her in real time, and she blinked rapidly trying to get her vision to focus and her hearing to return. But she was able to register in her confused mind that she was in the main arena. Because even if Harry didn’t hear her, she knew that everyone saw him take her down to the floor.

That was the goal. To get away and find a crowd.

She did it.

“You stupid, fucking bit—” the sound came roaring back so loudly it felt like he was shouting right in her ear. But he was standing above her again still dripping blood on her clothing. His face was in her vision for half a second. But that was all he got. Half a second. It wasn’t an exaggeration. Her heart was flying so fast, so she knewhis smug expression was hardly in her scattered vision for a mere fraction of a second. Not even one whole beat thudded against her ribcage and then he was gone.

Once more someone was standing over her, but unlike moments before, she felt so utterly safe.

Harry was there. Like some Greek god scorned. She almost felt bad for Jack. Because the thought of being on the receiving end of the look she could only imagine Harry was giving made her shiver. Half-naked, his black shorts, his black gloves hung at his hips, and she could tell his hands were balled into tight fists inside his gloves. She could see the rise and fall of his shoulders even at her angle. The heaving breaths he was taking.

Briefly, he turned his neck, to look at her over his shoulder. His eyes were furious and wild. There was a cut on his eyebrow again—probably the same one that kept reopening without the proper time to heal. She could see the redness on his ribcage starting where she knew he’d be bruised like a peach in the morning. His jaw was sharp, teeth gnashed together, lip curled in a terrifying snarl.

He turned back to him, on the ground, holding his face with blood still pouring from his nose. “You goddamn piece of fucking shit,” he growled.

The adrenaline in her veins stopped working overtime. With Harry standing over her, his feet shoulder width apart straddled on either side of her legs she felt herself relax. He was ready to fight—of course he was. He was in the ring only moments ago. His stance was itching to punch someone. He had that look in his eye that he had in the first round. But now it could have been the fifth or six round that she had interrupted. She didn’t know because she wasn’t there to see and lost track of counting the seconds. “What did you do to her?” He snarled.

Reason began to return to her mind. Harry was going to kill him—which would really put a damper on their night if he went to jail or something. “Harry,” her voice broke hoping that maybe he’d just let it go. She was safe now.

But she also knew it was well past the point of return for her boyfriend. Someone hurt her. He saw it.

Harry wouldn’t take it lightly. Couldn’t. He promised her dad. He promised her.

“Harry,” Louis hissed sensing the same thing that she did.

“Oh shit,” Niall hurried to her. “Are you alright, Cupcake?” he cooed gently and tugged her from beneath the arms and out from under Harry’s threatening stance. Niall held her the way she wanted Harry to hold her. His hands were on her cheeks, assessing her quickly, searching for a signal that she was okay. “Is this you?” He asked, looking at the blood all over her shirt as he searched for the injury that caused it.

Harry was still heaving, waiting for his opportunity. Her voice was dead in her throat trying to answer Niall but the only word that would leave her mouth was Harry’s name. It made him even angrier; terrified and hurt that she was possibly hurt. So hurt she couldn’t respond to Niall’s question—a question that Harry wanted her to answer just as badly.

“She broke my fucking nose,” he growled, eyes intent on her even though he nearly had to peer around Harry to look at her.

The whole arena froze.

She couldn’t see Harry’s face any longer, but she could sense a pleased smile was on his lips. Niall glanced away from checking her over as the smile passed over his lips as well. Hiding how happy he was that the blood was not hers. Louis, despite how pissed he was at Harry, couldn’t help the little smile that graced his face, either; proud that she used his lessons to help herself.

She swore everyone in that arena was smiling.

Harry turned back to her in Niall’s arms and winked at her. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly.

In spite of how scared she was, how sad she was, how much her head hurt… nothing but pride filled her body in that moment.

Then Harry lunged for him.

*

It took Niall, Louis, and Harry’s opponent from the ring to pull him away from pummeling him beyond recognition. Niall had nearly dropped her after he lunged. Grabbing his arms before he could do more damage than two punches. Louis suffered at least one punch to the face himself which she was sure was going to be returned in kind during Harry’s next training session. It would probably do Louis wonders to just punch Harry once and for all.

But naturally, it was her that stopped him. Her head ached and she wanted to lie down but she stood anyway. As Harry fought tooth and nail to be released from the hold of his friends and opponent, she stepped in front of him catching his murderous gaze. “Harry please,” she pleaded her eyes watery with all kinds of emotions coursing through her. She was wobbly on her feet, and she felt a little nauseous fearing her head injury was worse than she thought without all the adrenaline flowing through her. She put a hand on her head and winced in pain while trying to keep herself from swaying in front of him.

There were police and security guards and all kinds of shouting. But Harry finally saw her, his breath was shallow, his opponent from the ring was standing in front of him as well; a gloved hand pressed to his chest while Niall and Louis held each arm forcing him back. But it was her voice, her tear-filled eyes, that made him stop. His breathing started to slow. He swallowed hard, glaring at the opponent he wanted more than the one that was in the ring only a few moments earlier.

He gave Louis and Niall a shove. “M’alright,” he snapped and pushed his opponent out of the way. Within two seconds she was in his arms. Feet floating off the ground and he swore he never heard the crowd cheer for him the way they did then.

Harry didn’t even revel in it. He loved boxing. It was cathartic for him. Competitively, he was good at it. But he wanted nothing more than to not be in that arena and never come back. Her body was warm against his skin. He was cool with sweat. “Let’s go, Cupcake,” he murmured in her ear and started back for the locker room.

*

Harry was disqualified from his match. A single “1” in his loss column that upset her more than it did him. He was icing her hand and arm where his fingerprints left bruises. He kept rubbing her shoulders, her temples, and any of her muscles that ached in her back without the hormones that dulled her senses during her own fight. The intensity of it all, all that adrenaline subsided and made her body crash. All her muscles ached with the notion something happened.

And she stopped it.

Harry, despite everything, could not stop smiling as if she had boxed her own match and won. “I’m so proud of you, Cupcake,” he murmured and kissed the back of her achy head. It was sore from where it hit the floor (twice—once harder than the other). Louis deduced she did have a concussion; so, Harry was doting on her as if his life depended on it. Now that they were home in his apartment, he was much calmer—surprisingly. Granted, inside his home was safe. She imagined anywhere in public he was going to turn into a bit of a crazy person when it came to her safety. Honestly, she couldn’t wait to see him in action. She didn’t want him to act insane, but the worry was nice in his own way. (Plus, she was pretty certain she could get him to relax with the promise of kisses.) “When you’re able to, I want to know everything.”

“I don’t like punching,” she told him wrinkling her nose even though he couldn’t see her. He chuckled.

“I know, kitten.” He shifted her in his lap so she was propped against the armrest of his sofa, her legs strewn across his thighs. Now he could see her face. His smile was lazy, adorable, boyish once more. Hard to believe someone so cute could be terrifying when needed.

“I broke his nose,” she reminded him quietly.

“I know, Cupcake,” he answered tiredly. His own body was sore, his mind exhausted. She could see him practically snoring while talking his eyes turning to slits as he tilled his head against the back of the couch. One arm draped over the front of her body protectively. His other hand pulled at her hair gently as possible, massaging her scalp where he knew that horrible, moronic man yanked it hardest when she was running from him. “M’so proud of you,” he murmured.

Her cheeks turned pink under his praise, but she remained silent for a moment. “I’m sorry you were disqualified,” her frown was deep.

“Kitten,” he tutted opening his eyes at the same time, a renewed sense of energy had him looking at her with such disapproval. He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. “Nothing’s important as you,” he promised, a frown touching his lips.

“But you were undefeated, it bothers me.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes again—maybe the smallest part of him feeling bad for himself. “But it doesn’t bother me, Cupcake. I’d rather lose m’undefeated record for this than ever let something happen t’you. Rather have a losing record. Far as m’concerned, m’still undefeated. Honestly, y’should see the other guy,” he smirked ruefully. She watched his gentle breathing, felt the soft pull of her hair on the back of her head, and she bit the inside of her cheek.

“I wish I could’ve—”

“Uh-uh, Cupcake,” he interrupted, his voice quietly on the edge of sleep. His mind reeled with the thoughts from the locker room.

Harry paced, still angry beyond belief. He settled her on the bench that he usually sat on after a fight. His doctor and Louis looked her over. “She hit her head hard on the ground,” Louis murmured looming over the doctor’s shoulder as he examined her eyes. Harry punched the locker nearby creating a dent the size of his glove. She flinched at the sound as he paced. The doctor didn’t move.

“Twice,” she offered weakly.

Twice? He growled low in his throat. Niall was right beside him in case he tried to make a break for it and find him again. Niall planned on tripping Harry worst case scenario to keep him from leaving.

“Twice?” Louis repeated curiously. “Shit, babe,” he frowned. Harry punched the locker two more times, making her flinch again. “Harry, she’s already scared out of her mind,” he snapped angrily. Harry was still pacing. Niall paced alongside him, trying to keep him calm. Her eyes locked on Harry as he paced, and the doctor looked her over. She felt like she was blinking a thousand times per second. But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Harry.

“Do you have any other injuries?” The doctor asked. She shook her head.

“Just my head.”

“You’re sure? This is a lot of blood.”

Harry growled again. She glanced at him nervously again. “S’not mine,” she whispered reassuringly.

The doctor smirked, patted her knee as he nodded. “Good girl. Harry, you taught her well,” he assured. “Ice. Harry, I am to presume you’ll be her bedside nurse? Concussion protocol, wake her tonight, every couple hours, and pain meds. Call me if there’s an issue.”

Harry was still fuming. “Can y’drive her car t’my place?” He asked Niall. He nodded solemnly, afraid of angering him further. “Get these off me,” he held out his hands feeling frustrated that Niall didn’t move faster to get them off. He wanted to cradle her face and massage her achy muscles. He wanted to kiss her pain away and hold her until he felt she was better. She was only vaguely aware of his frustration. Louis was tending to her while Niall cut the tape off his wrists, nipping his skin with the scissors because Harry refused to sit still.

“Here you are, love,” Louis was gentle, cupped the side of her head as he sat in front of her and placed an ice pack on the back of her achy skull. She blinked unsurely, eyeing Louis suspiciously.

“Do you hate me?” She asked, tears filled her vision without her realization, and she heard Harry snort.

“Jesus Christ, Cupcake,” she could hear the way his eyes rolled. Niall snorted.

Louis chuckled, shook his head. “Not at all, babe, why?”

“He lost because of me.”

“He could lose a thousand times because of you,” he assured her. “Your safety is most important.”

She took a deep breath and sighed. “He’s late because of me too.”

“He was late before you came along,” he promised. “Also, I like those Oreo brownies you make more than him,” he winked.

Harry smiled as she did. He could see her adding it to her mental list of goodies she would need to make.

“Harry, baby?” She whispered. Pulled him from his thoughts—fortunately so. He didn’t want to think about how much her head hurt.

“What, Cupcake?”

“I love you.” He smiled up at the ceiling, eyes still closed. Like it was new to him to hear her say it and it was just his dream telling him she loved him.

Right as he inhaled to say it back, his phone rang beside him. One eye peeled open and then the other as he looked at the number. “’Lo?” He asked, pressing the speaker button.

“Hey, Harry?” The voice at the other end asked. She didn’t recognize it.

“Speaking...”

“Is your girl okay?” He asked.

Harry looked at the phone curiously, he glanced at her and then back at the phone. “Yeah. She’s fine. Broke his nose.”

“Good girl,” his voice was quiet, but there was an air of pride in it as well. She blushed at the compliment, remaining silent while she listened in.

“Yeah... Listen... s’been a long night. Can y’tell me what y’want? Was it t’gloat?”

Her lips parted, realizing the man at the other end that earned the coveted one in Harry Styles’ loss column. Because of her. (Although she knew Harry would tell her it wasn’t her fault if she said that out loud.) “Right, sure. Sorry. Listen... M’glad she’s alright. Sorry it happened. But... anyone with a brain and two eyeballs knew that wasn’t a fair loss. Anyone would have stopped in the middle of our match. Hell, I almost stopped for her,” Harry waited for the point of saying all this. He squeezed her shoulder and brushed his lips across her cheek. “So... I want a rematch.”

Harry straightened, his hand falling limp behind her back. “A rematch?”

It was quiet. “I want to win the right way.”

Harry smiled; excitement danced in his eyes. Gently, he squeezed her knee. “Y’mean lose the right way,” he taunted.

He chuckled on the other end of the line. “We’ll see, I guess. Yeah?”

Harry hung up. He turned to her, kissed her on the forehead, and smiled. “What do y’say? Y’still want t’be m’good luck charm, Cupcake?” He pulled her into his lap and buried his face into her neck. Like he belonged there.

“You still think I’m a good luck charm? After today? Hell, since the day I met you? I’ve been nothing but a headache. Clay is dented because of me. You had to teach me how to defend myself. I’m whiny and injured and—”

Harry didn’t seem to register anything she said at all. “M’the luckiest man alive t’have you, Cupcake. Will y’be m’good luck charm, still?”

She stopped listing her faults. It didn’t seem worth her time. “Of course, Harry,” she smiled.

“Y’think I can go the distance?” He asked.

Honestly, the thought of Harry getting punched for twelve full rounds still scared her. It was a lot for her to watch him do five or even three. “Maybe not all twelve,” she hedged with a giggle. “Want you in one piece at the end, baby,” she reminded him.

“Ye of little faith,” he frowned, grumbling. She giggled and Harry couldn’t help but smile at her. His lips quirked into a shy grin, and he pressed his face back into the crook of her neck. “Well, one round?” He asked. She swore she heard the bell in his voice as he asked. The start of a new fight, a new set.

“No,” she shook her head, pressed her lips to his hair just next to his ear. The only space she could reach while he was tucked in her neck. “I’ll go the distance with you,” she assured him.

Maybe the concussion was playing tricks on her. But she swore she heard a bell as he smiled against her skin.

Ding.

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[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

[nanamiscocksleeve]

May I please request the Thirsty Thursday prompt “Louder” with Nanami?

Nanami the gentleman, they all said. And in public, he was, holding open doors, pulling you close to him while crossing the street, pressing the most chaste, yet sweetest kisses to your forehead.

But how sinful he was in private. You were his little nightingale and he loved to hear you sing.

His fingers, so dextrous, were curled up inside your gummy walls, making that delicious come-hither motion on your upper wall, the perfect intensity and gentleness hitting your G-spot each time.

You're already a mess, leaking on the sheets from your last two orgasms, body begging for a break, but wanting a release at the same time. Spent from them, the only noise you could make now were whimpers, soft and low-energy in comparison to the previous crescendos you had made.

"Come on darling...one more...I know you can do it." He wriggles his fingers, making your hips arch off the bed as you lay helpless against his minisatations. You're so lost in the sensations that you didn't feel him slip between your legs until you felt his hot breath on your most slit.

"Louder," you implores you, before licking a stripe from your sloppy entrance up to your clit. You erupt, a strangled wail, drawn out by his fingers and lips, pussy spasming in delight as the heat in your belly reaches an all time high, waves of ecstasy racking your being.

Send me a prompt!

#thirst game #thirst prompt #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #ncs #ncs scribbles #thirsty weekend

[kezzzx]

Anika knew who Jesper Fahey was before she’d ever joined the Dregs. While Kaz’s name carries weight, and perhaps a small shudder of fear, Jesper’s name comes with a knowing smirk and some sort of comment on his sexual prowess. She’d deny it if anyone ever asked her, but the truth of the matter is that she has slept with him. Just the once, as is his way, and his reputation is entirely true. He is, unfortunately, a very good shag, and his list of previous bedfellows is probably longer than Anika’s entire arm.

It comes as very little surprise to her when a rumour starts circulating amongst the gang that Fahey had not only previously slept with their brand new demo man, but had also, apparently, forgotten about it. What is surprising, though, is that Jesper has apparently gone back for seconds (and thirds, and fourths…), because said demo man practically lives at the Slat nowadays, and the pair are frequently together.

���I’ve never seen him like this before,” Anika whispers. She’s sitting at a table at the Crow Club nursing a well-earned beer after finishing her shift.

Beside her, Pim raises an eyebrow but his eyes stay locked on the sight of notorious flirt Jesper Fahey contentedly sitting beside his… boyfriend? What is his name anyway? Henderson? Hen… something. It’s on the tip of her tongue. The demo man is tucked happily tucked up against Fahey’s side, grinning at him over the rim of his glass.

For the life of her, Anika cannot work out what it is about him that has Jesper so transfixed. Sure, he is objectively good-looking, though men with pretty eyes and delicate features don’t really do it for her, and he must be clever if he knows his way around explosives, but in their - admittedly limited - interactions since Hendriks joined the Dregs, she’s found him kind of meek. Unassuming.

“It won’t last,” Pim says eventually. “He’ll get bored. This is Fahey we’re talking about after all.”

Anika hums. She traces her fingers over the droplets of condensation running down the side of her beer glass, then takes a long drink. See, normally she’d agree with Pim. But the pair have already been to Ravka and back, and she has a sneaking suspicion that the messy-haired demo man - and really, what is his name? - might actually have fully moved into Fahey’s room.

“I don’t know Pim, I feel like this is different.”

-

A few weeks later and Anika is ready to tear her hair out. She’s never paid too much attention to the fact that her room is directly next to Jesper’s, but now that it’s Jesper and Wylan’s room, well, that’s another matter. To put it simply, Anika has overheard more than she ever needed to over the past few weeks, and it’s seriously starting to grate.

She glares at Jesper as he enters the living area at the Slat. He’s alone, but pours two cups of coffee anyway, taking both with him as he joins her and Nina at their table.

“You’re very loud, you know that?” Anika says around a mouthful of lacklustre porridge.

Nina snorts into her breakfast, but Jesper only grins with the self-satisfied smirk of someone who is having good sex and a lot of it.

“I could buy you some earplugs, if you like.”

Anika scowls at him. “You could try asking loverboy to keep it down.”

“I could,” Jesper says mildly with a shrug of his shoulders. He drums his fingers against the table as he raises his mug to his lips. “But I quite like the noises he makes.”

Anika seriously considers hitting him.

“It’s not just Wylan, they’re both as bad as each other,” Nina grumbles, stabbing at a piece of sausage a little too forcefully. “Do you know, Anika, I’m pretty sure I heard this one,” she gestures at Jesper with her fork, “begging the other night. Seems quite unlike you, what was Wylan doing, hm?”

“He has very talented fingers,” Jesper says, pointedly ignoring the gagging noise Anika directs at him. “And don’t take it out on me just because Kaz hasn’t smuggled Matthias out of Hellgate yet. You should be happy at least some of us are getting laid.”

Nina opens her mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it again when Wylan drops into the empty chair next to Jesper, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he does so. Anika scowls at him too for good measure. Surely, she thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.

She is proved disgustingly wrong when Nina’s Fjerdan slab of fur moves into the Slat a week later, and the pair upgrade to a bigger room. Surely all the Saints must hate her, because the room they move into is directly above hers.

#this is dumb but I hope you enjoy it #i just really like anika okay #six of crows #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #nina zenik #matthias helvar

[mrs-jameson-hawthorne]

PART 3 OF JAMESON HAWTHORNE IRL (YES, I'M TURNING THIS INTO A SERIES)

As many of you have seen from my previous post about this wonderful event, I met Jamie irl and our moms are friends from uni!! I called him at 1 am where we live and talked for nearly an hour. We had talked at the embassy for a while, but we really got to know each other and our full names (his middle and last name are even better). So his full name is James Maxime Beaumont and he's part FRENCH. LIKE WTF?????? Yeah, I actually asked him if he had heard of tig and reminded him of how I said that he looked like Jameson, but guess what?! MY MAN'S READ THE FIRST BOOK!! HE ALSO HAS TWO BROTHERS, GABRIEL AND THEODORE (I'LL TRY TO SET SOME OF YALL UP). He made the dumbest jokes and when I asked him to ask me a riddle (yes @f4iry-bell, I asked him) and you know which riddle he asked me???? "What can be touched but can't be seen?" Out of the millions of riddles he could've asked, he picked this one?!?!? And you bet it touched my heart 😉(please tell me someone understood that). We just rambled on and on about the weirdest things and it was really comforting for some reason. WE'RE ALSO GOING TO MEET UP WHEN OUR MOMS DO!! I CAN'T WAITTTTTT

AHHHH UFHA IUGBHYEHRRR KQRARVGK

MORE UPDATES ABOUT THIS COMING SOON!!!

*BTW, THE LAST AND MIDDLE NAMES I GAVE HIM ARE SIMILAR BUT DIFFERENT FROM HIS REAL NAME. I BASED THEM ON HIS REAL NAME, BUT THEY ARE DIFFERENT. I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO HAPPEN TO MY FUTURE HUSBAND JUST AS I MEET HIM*

@f4iry-bell @jamcarven @his-littlefox @jkriordanverse

#tumblr #tig #mrs-jameson-hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #future husband #jennifer lynn barnes #the inheritance games #like wtf

[weaveandwood]

Weave and Woods Chapter 11: The Timelessness of Lovers

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | NSFW | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Under an aurora-lit sky, Gale and Auroria confess their feelings for each other

“Thinking about Mystra’s demand?” Her brows furrowed as they always did when Mystra was brought up, especially after Elminster came with his missive.  “Yes.” He paused. “I must admit it is always on my mind. More so now even than before. To know that I’ve found you, and that you are in love with me as I am in love with you only to - ” His voice caught in his throat as tears formed in his eyes. “Only to have to leave you in a few days’ time…I must admit I am more terrified now than I was at the beginning of the night. I do not want to lose you, Ora. I do not want to leave you.” He smiled softly, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pictured what life could have been like with her in his tower, walking through the market each week, sunsets on the balcony, watching the Midwinter fireworks together. She grasped his hand. “Then don’t, Gale. Stay with me. Live. Live with me.” She kissed him again, her own tears mingling with his. “Let’s live.”

AN: This is my favorite scene of Act 2, and the whole game so far. I hope I was able to do it justice while making it my own. NSFW! Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex

Crafting an illusion was like composing a piece of music. One needed to take into consideration every layer - every piece of the orchestra needed to be successful on its own and work together as a whole to create a harmonious explosion of sounds. Illusions were similar. Every part of a convincing illusion needed to be perfect - one thing out of place, and the whole composition falls apart.

Gale was a master at creating illusions, or at least he had been until his unceremonious fall from favor and his body became a host for both a sliver of the Karsite Weave and a mind flayer parasite. He had been unable to create grand illusions since, though he had noticed his abilities strengthening as time had progressed, especially once the charm was placed on the orb to stabilize it. Evocation spells were his specialty, what he was known for, what was nurtured during his time as Chosen of Mystra - it was true there was nothing more useful than a fireball for a battle, but illusory spells were his true love, his passion. Manipulating the Weave in this way made him feel closer to an artist, a poet, or a musician than a warrior. He wanted to use his magic to bring beauty and wonder to the world.

He needed his illusions to be perfect tonight. Tonight was the night he was going to tell Ora that he loved her. He had wanted to shout it from the rooftops of the Last Light Inn after kissing her the previous night, he wanted to whisper it in her ear as she slept peacefully, he wanted to say it that morning when she forced him to go to his tent after sitting outside hers all night, he wanted to yell it in celebration when they worked on spells during the afternoon and she finally cracked Spike Growth after days of attempts on her own. 

Every artist needs their muse, and she was his. He channeled the Weave from his spot far enough away from their campsite to afford privacy. As the power hummed through his body, he thought of Ora. How she made him feel, how he felt with her, what reminded him of her - beauty and warmth and goodness. The threat of Moonrise Towers and Mystra’s demand settled over him but did not cause him to abandon his plans. He had to tell her. He squared his shoulders and got to work. 

******

“Hello, I’m here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep!” The cheerful silvered mirror image of Gale said to Auroria as she walked up to his tent before going to bed for the night. “He wishes to extend you an invitation to a private conversation. Would you care to join him? From the portion of his mind that is open to me, it is a matter most urgent.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I don’t think I’m in a position to decline,” she said, her mind already racing with worry. Was the orb acting up again? Had he set his mind to following through with Mystra’s demand of his sacrifice? Would she no longer have the chance of saving him? The thought of losing him caused her heart to race, her stomach to drop, and threatened to bring tears to her eyes as she started down the path pointed out by Gale’s mirror image. Surely it couldn’t be something so serious - he had been in such a good mood after she made him sleep and then again after he helped her figure out what she was doing wrong when attempting to cast her newest spell. He had jumped up and thrown his arms around her when the ground started to erupt with spikes and thorns. She thought he might kiss her again, or at least she had hoped he would, but he pulled away and said something about needing to go read something to find her next spell. She hadn’t seen him since. 

The path through the thick forest led to a clearing bordered by a few downed trees and rocky formations. In the middle of it on a plush blanket sat Gale, intensely focused. She looked past him and up to the sky and gasped softly. Instead of the dim, colorless grey they had grown accustomed to over these past days there was a bright shining aurora, all shades of vibrant purple and green dancing across it. Stars sparkled in the distance and the grass in the clearing looked as green as it did in the forests where she grew up. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She stood at the edge of the clearing, watching Gale place more stars in the sky and let the tears that had gathered now freely fall down her face. How could a man who creates such beauty even think about sacrificing himself for what a goddess calls forgiveness? Her panic threatened to overwhelm her. She loved him. She couldn’t lose him. She had to tell him. Tonight. She wiped the tears from her face and walked over to sit on the blanket beside him. 

“I love this time of night,” he said softly, taking her hand in his, a movement that had become so natural for the both of them over the past weeks. “There’s a reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you think the dawn will never break.” He threaded his fingers through hers and as he turned to look at her, she could have sworn the look on his face matched the one she had given the sky moments ago. He waved his free hand at his illusion. “The cradle of eternity…the timelessness of lovers.”

Auroria smiled softly and looked up at the sky, her eyes wide as the lights danced and the stars twinkled. “This is beautiful, Gale. I’ve never seen the sky do this - you’d almost forget we were in the Shadow Cursed Lands,” she said with breathless wonder.

He looked at the sky again. “It’s veiled, kept at arm’s length for now. This isn’t something I can do often in my present condition, but tonight is different. I feel the weight of Mystra’s demand on me, and with us going to Moonrise Towers tomorrow to infiltrate it, I can’t help but feel this may be one of my last nights alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder. And with company to match.”

Auroria frowned, hearing the sadness in his tone as if he had decided his fate. This is my last chance.  

“Is this truly, truly what you want? To sacrifice yourself for Mystra’s forgiveness?”

“My untimely death is all but assured. My days on this plane have been numbered since I opened that damned book. Would you not want your death to mean something?” He sighed. “I will admit I am terrified, no matter how well I try to conceal it.” He nodded, grim resolution on his face. “Better to meet the inevitable on my own terms.”

Auroria felt warm tears fall down her cheeks again as she nodded. “So you’ve decided, then.” She tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand but they wouldn’t stop coming, so she just let them fall. It was always easy for her to show her emotions with Gale. 

He looked over at her, touching her chin with a hooked finger, turning her face to his. “You know, one moment with you would satisfy me for a lifetime. And you’ve given me so many moments,  enough for infinite lifetimes. I’m happy you came out here to share this with me. I know it’s not real…but I created this all for you. You were the inspiration for all of this.”

“For me?” She gasped, her eyes snapping to his. “All of this? Why?”

He smiled softly at her. “You must know that you’re…that you’re special to me, Ora.” 

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her breathing quickened. What was he saying? Could he feel the same? She thought, a small flicker of hope warming inside her.

He dropped his hand, going back to looking at the aurora for a short while in silence, a wistful look in his eyes. Finally, he spoke again. “If things were different, if we were home, I would take the time to do things properly. To say everything better. To give you everything you deserve, and more. But time is short.” 

He turned to face her again. His eyes were bright and shining with unshed tears.

“I am in love with you.” 

Everything faded away from Auroria at that moment. There was only the two of them - there was no shadow curse, there was no Absolute, no tadpole, no orb, no Mystra. No wizard, no ranger. There was just Gale and just Auroria. Two people who managed to find each other despite the fact that their paths never should have crossed. Two people who loved each other despite everything thrown against them.  

“I’m in love with you, too, Gale.”

******

Externally, Gale played it cool as he chuckled. “That’s a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.” Internally, he was in a state of disbelief. Ora was in love with him! He had wanted this, hoped she’d feel the same way as he did, but did not believe it possible that someone so fierce, so brave, with so much to live for would fall in love with him, not how he was now. Not with the orb, not with Mystra’s charge, not with his imminent demise. 

She leaned into him and kissed him, quieting his thoughts for the first time in what felt like years as he kissed her back softly. It felt different from their kiss the night before - less desperate, more real. He smiled as she broke the kiss. 

“You’re a good kisser,” she smiled back at him. 

“And you are a bad liar,” he laughed out loud. “I was basically a hermit for some time before I met you, remember?” 

“From one recluse to another, you’re a good kisser,” she said before she kissed him again, her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. Her lips parted and his tongue slid against hers as they kissed much like the vision she shared with him all those weeks ago when they were connected through the Weave. A vision he never thought he’d be able to act upon. He broke the kiss and put one hand against her cheek, looking at her beautiful face as she smiled at him, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers, taking in the lush green that seemed to radiate even in the dark of the night with a golden glow. She loves me.

He wanted the night to be perfect. To show her all he could do with the Weave, their bodies and souls intertwining and bonding within its gentle fibers. He stood up excitedly, taking her hand and helping her up from the ground. “What do you say to the perfect night in Waterdeep for our first date?” He smiled. 

“I have always heard that Waterdeep is an exceptional city, though I can’t quite remember who told me that,” she teased. “Show me.”

He waved his hand, a faint purple glow enveloping the two of them. The aurora was replaced by his study in his tower. His favorite place in the entire universe - well, until he met Ora. Now his favorite place was by her side. Everything was just as he remembered it, even the messy assortment of parchments on the desk. The piano in the corner, the stacks and stacks of books. He could smell the paper if he concentrated hard enough. He looked back at Ora, who was taking it all in, her eyes wide and her mouth open in awe. 

“This is your study?” She asked. “It feels like I’m looking directly into your soul, all books and academia.” She smiled. 

She looked so at home in his study. He couldn’t wait to show her the real thing, after - No.

He interrupted his own thoughts. After? There would be no after, not for him. This was more than likely the last time he would ever lay eyes on his beloved study, his beloved tower, his beloved city, and it was all an illusion. Snap out of it. He wanted to show her all he could of him, of his life, before it all ended much, much too soon. 

“It is. The center of my universe. Now, for something even better.” He waved his hands, the doors to the balcony opening, the sun setting into the horizon, setting the sea awash in a fiery orange blaze, the entire illusion taking on a warm glow. As Ora stepped out onto the balcony, the sunset lit her up. Her hair burned even more coppery, the light made her eyes look even more green, even her freckles seemed to stand out more. Waterdeep suited her. Still, as he looked out over the horizon, melancholy washed over him. He missed his home. He was thankful to the tadpole for bringing him to Ora, but…he would never come home again. He would never see Tara or his mother again. Never walk the streets, never visit the market, never watch the ships sail from the docks. The sound of pages ruffling brought him back to the present. 

“You’ve found my favorite spot. I would sometimes find myself out here from evening to night to daybreak, lost in words.” 

“Up all night reading? What a rebel,” she laughed as she kept flicking through the pages of the book. “What’s this book?” she asked, handing it to him.

He laughed and took the book from her, one he had placed there on purpose. “This is The Art of the Night - about a newlywed king and queen’s first thousand nights together. They turned everything into an art - conversation, the exploration and acceptance of the self and the other, the art of the body, the night itself.” Here goes. “I say we take a page from their book.”

Ora raised an eyebrow at him. “Leave it to you to seduce someone with a book.” Gods, he loved how she teased him. She knew him so well. “But…I don’t see a bed.”

“The stars will be our bed. There are endless worlds out there, countless ways to declare love. Let me show you more,” he said. He wanted to show her all of the wonders of the universe, let her feel his love in infinite ways, not just within the confines of their mortal flesh. 

She put her hand on his face, looking at him adoringly. “I want to be with you, not a fantasy, not an illusion. I am in love with Gale.”

He paused. “Are you sure? I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond our reckoning. I could wow you. I want to wow you, Ora.”

She smiled, taking his hands in hers. “This isn’t a test, Gale. You don’t have to impress me with these grand gestures to show off your abilities. I’m no goddess. I am in love with you .”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “Yes, you are, Ora. Trust me, I would know.” He snapped his fingers, placing them back in the forest by camp, the aurora still dancing across the sky, the stars sparkling just for them. “Let’s do it your way then - the old ways. As long as it’s with you.” 

She kissed him as he waved his hand, conjuring a large bed. “For your comfort, of course.”

She laughed then. “I have been living in the wilds for almost my entire life, I’m pretty sure this bed is for your comfort.” She walked over to it, kicked off her slippers and climbed on, patting the mattress next to her. “Though, you will not hear me complain.”  

He smiled and walked to the bed, climbing onto it next to her, his calm exterior belying the chaos within him. His heart was racing with anticipation and his brain was moving a million miles a minute. It had been so long since he had been with anyone physically, since before becoming Mystra’s lover. Could he live up to her expectations? Would this all be a waste of time? Why did he even confess his feelings to her when he was just going to die in a few days time? His breathing picked up as he balanced on the knife’s edge of panic. 

“Gale?” He felt a warm touch on his hand. Ora . “Gale, come back to me,” she said, placing a tender kiss on his cheek, then a soft kiss on his lips. She was a balm to him - his mind quieted again, focusing only on her. He kissed her back and placed a hand on the side of her face, his thumb gently running over her cheek. 

“I apologize. My mind momentarily was…elsewhere. I am here now.” 

“Thinking about Mystra’s demand?” Her brows furrowed as they always did when Mystra was brought up, especially after Elminster came with his missive. 

“Yes.” He paused. “I must admit it is always on my mind. More so now even than before. To know that I’ve found you, and that you are in love with me as I am in love with you only to - ” His voice caught in his throat as tears formed in his eyes. “Only to have to leave you in a few days’ time…I must admit I am more terrified now than I was at the beginning of the night. I do not want to lose you, Ora. I do not want to leave you.” He smiled softly, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pictured what life could have been like with her in his tower, walking through the market each week, sunsets on the balcony, watching the Midwinter fireworks together.

She grasped his hand. “Then don’t, Gale. Stay with me. Live. Live with me.” She kissed him again, her own tears mingling with his. “Let’s live.” 

He nodded and closed his eyes, holding on to her hands tightly. She made it seem so simple, to just live . That she alone could defy a goddess’ machinations and find a way to circumvent his fate. Perhaps she could. He opened his eyes and found her staring at him, full of concern. This was not the direction he wanted this evening to go, and yet it only made him fall deeper in love with her. Made him want her even more, if that was possible. Made him want to believe the impossible. 

Stay. Live. Could I?

“Live,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

Could I?

He kissed her deeply, pulling her close to him. Their tongues slid together again, finding a rhythm of push and pull as their hands roamed each other’s bodies, discovering a new closeness that they had been on the edge of for weeks now. She smelled faintly like the peppermint balm she massaged on her sore muscles after a long day of fighting or training. His fierce ranger. Her hands found their way to the bottom of his soft velvet tunic and grasped it, starting to pull it up. He broke the kiss to reach down and slid it off over his head. 

“Hells Gale, you’ve been hiding all of this? Doesn’t seem fair, really, to keep this secret,” she teased as she saw him without so much as an undershirt on for the first time, her eyes moving down the lean athletic build of his body and fine covering of hair on his chest and stomach. She reached down to the hem of her own sleep tunic, pulling it over her head. The filtered moonlight cast a pale silvery glow on her breasts and her nipples started to pebble and harden against the slight chill in the late night air. 

“I could say the same to you,” he said playfully in return. The scar on her cheek continued down past her collarbone almost to her left nipple, some areas thicker than others. He reached out and traced it with his fingers, pressing kisses into it as he followed his fingers with his mouth. A story for another time. Her breathing quickened as he reached his destination, taking the hard nipple in his mouth, sucking on it lightly as she gasped. 

Something in the air changed, a new electricity charged between them. 

“You’re so beautiful, Ora,” he said before moving to the other breast, giving it the attention it deserved. Her hands went to his head, running her fingers through his hair as she arched her back, pressing herself closer to him. 

“I want you, Gale,” She said, her voice thick with lust.

“And you’ll have me before the night is done,” he smiled against her soft skin, toying at her nipple with his tongue before pressing a hand to her chest, laying her back on the bed. His hands went to the waistband of her leggings, his fingers slipping inside and rubbing along the softness of her stomach. “I want to watch you come undone for me first.” She lifted her hips to help him easily slide the fabric off her legs. He kissed each inch of newly bared skin as he pulled them off of her before discarding them on the ground beside the bed.

He looked at her in wonder as she laid before him, fully bared. So beautiful, so perfect. She propped herself up on her elbows, tilting her head to the side. “Everything okay?”

He smiled. “Everything is perfect. How did I get so lucky?” He kissed her ankle. “You are so stunning.” He kissed her knee. “I will never be able to fully tell you just how heavenly you look right now lying in front of me with nothing on, illuminated by moonlight. My divine Ora.” He wanted to worship her, to bow down at the altar of her body for the rest of his time on this plane. He kissed her thigh, higher and higher as he placed himself between her legs, spreading them and baring her sweet center to him. He could resist no longer. He looked up at her from between her legs as he flattened his tongue and tasted her for the first time. Her moan was an answer to the prayers on his lips and music to his ears, her taste was the sweetest nectar. He hooked his arms under her thighs, pulling her down to his mouth as he flicked her sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue before sealing his mouth over it, sucking softly. 

Her hips started to rock against his face as he hummed against her, sending vibrations through her body. He teased at her entrance with a finger, reveling in how warm and wet she was as he touched her. For him. Because of him. He paid special attention to that sensitive spot inside he remembered women liking from his dalliances years ago, before Mystra. No. No thoughts of Mystra tonight. 

He turned his mind back to Ora, this beautiful, writhing woman who lay before him, who wanted him, who loved him. He added a second finger and moved them faster, in and out, his firm tongue working her in tandem as he devoured her. She had moved her hands to his head, her nails delightfully scratching his scalp as waves of pleasure washed over her and she began to unravel. He was relentless in the pursuit of her undoing, keeping a steady pace with both his hand and his tongue as she cried out his name and he felt her pulse as she reached her peak and crashed over. He crawled over her, kissing up her stomach to her breasts again, taking each one into his mouth before moving up to her neck. He finally kissed her lips, impossibly turned on as she kissed him back, tasting herself on him. 

“My turn,” she said, smiling against his mouth as she pushed him onto his back, his desire clearly evident. She rubbed at his erection gently over his pants as she kissed his neck. Gods, I forgot how good that feels, he thought. He felt her starting to pull his pants down, and he lifted his hips off the bed to help her just as she did for him earlier. He was suddenly conscious about his body, wondering if it would be pleasing to her. His physical form hadn’t been important in matters of desire in so long, coming back to it made him feel like he was a teenager again, full of nerves and anticipation of learning what he liked. She wrapped her hand around him. He definitely liked that. 

“Gods, Ora,” He inhaled sharply as she touched him, the first mortal touch he had had in years. She kissed his orb marking softly, then traced down the line of his stomach with kisses. What was she….oh. OH. 

He rose up on his elbows, looking at her. “Ora, I don’t…are you sure? Please, don’t feel like you have to.” 

She smiled at him, her eyes soft. “Let me give you the pleasure you gave me. We are equals here, in this bed, in this relationship. No one is above the other. Besides, I enjoy doing this, just like you do. Let me take care of you. Allow me this,” she said as she leaned down, taking the tip of him in her mouth, sucking gently. 

Gale saw stars. He grasped at the bedsheets, the pleasure and desire coursing through him stronger than anything he had felt in so long, setting him ablaze. She took him deeper into her mouth, her head and hand working him in rhythm as she hummed against his hardness. His hips started to rock, moving with her as he moaned loudly. At this rate, it would not be long before he finished, and he wanted his first time to be inside her. 

“Ora, I need to be inside you, please,” he practically begged. He was at the mercy of her, of his new goddess. “Please, let me.”

“I want you, Gale,” she said. 

“Come here,” he smiled, guiding her up to him, a finger hooked under her chin as he kissed her deeply, laying her back on the bed. “I want to watch you, see you when I finish inside you,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her again.  

He used his thigh to spread her legs, running his fingers across her slick entrance before holding himself to her. His heart was pounding. He knew this was a line they could never uncross. It was a line he knew with absolute certainty he wanted to cross, but he had to be sure it was the same for her. 

“Are you sure you want this, Ora? Do you want me?”  He looked her in the eyes, his tip pressed against her. He needed to hear her say it. 

“I want you,” she repeated, closing her eyes and moaning softly as he pressed in, sinking into her. 

Every thought left his head as he felt her give around him, all warm and soft velvet against his hardness. He closed his eyes as he fully seated himself within her, staying still for a moment, reacquainting himself with this feeling - how had he ever derided this as “just” pleasures of the mortal flesh? This was everything. This was better than anything metaphysical. She had converted him. Astral pleasure could no longer compare to this. This was real. 

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, whispering his adoration to her. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her close, their bodies in complete contact as he began to thrust into her with slow, deep rolls of his hips, feeling every inch of her as he pulled almost all the way out and pressed fully back in again. Ora wrapped her arms around his back, her fingertips digging into his skin.

He pulled back, settling up on his knees between her legs. She looked so perfect laid out on her back before him, his length sheathed deep inside her. He continued his same slow rhythm, thrusting back into her a little harder than before, watching where their bodies joined in awe and wonder.

“Gale…you feel so…so good,” she moaned, her hands moving to his thighs, holding on to him, rocking her hips to meet his. 

“You feel better than any heavens, Ora. Better than I could have imagined all those nights I thought about taking you, imagining doing this with you.” He said, remembering the nights in his tent after his orb was stabilized where he pictured Ora in a similar position to the one she was currently in as he used his hand to pleasure himself. It didn’t even compare. 

He couldn’t hold back any longer, Desire, lust, and the discovery of how good sex with her could be drove him. He moved her legs so her feet were on his shoulders, and started thrusting into her deeper, faster. He kissed her calf, her ankle, the side of her foot, punctuating each kiss with a soft “I love you.”

His fingers dug into her hips as he grasped them to lift them up, allowing him to get even deeper inside her. He needed to be as deep as possible, as close to her as possible. He watched her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts bounced, her back arched against the bed as he hit a spot that drove her wild. He had once thought watching her fight was like watching an opera. Watching her while making love was like viewing the finest art. 

“I’m so close,” she panted. He felt her tightening around him, getting close as his own precipice drew near. 

“Come for me, Ora. I want to hear you call my name while I’m buried inside you,” he said as he reached between them and began rubbing her at her most sensitive spot, feeling her hips jerk at the slight touch. He felt her tighten around him, the feeling drawing him even closer as the fire in his abdomen grew hotter. “But look at me when you do.”

She opened her eyes, and just the sight of them darkened with desire almost sent him over the edge right then and there. 

She cried out, his name on her lips as her body froze and then shattered around him. He felt her shudder and pulse as her orgasm rocked through her. He kept thrusting through it, harder, faster, lost to his own finish as she held onto his arms tightly, her nails slightly digging in. 

He felt his abdomen tighten. He maintained eye contact and drove himself into her one last time as she nodded and writhed underneath him before he felt himself fill her with his own release, crying out her name loudly for all the gods to hear. Panting, he stayed buried within her as his orgasm shuddered through him. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and most of her hair was loosened from her twisted ponytail, and he could only imagine he looked similar. She looked so beautifully undone. 

Finally he pulled out of her, instantly feeling cold without her warmth enveloping him. He was changed, wholly and truly. He was a different man from earlier this evening. He crawled beside her and dropped to the bed, planting a kiss on her shoulder. 

“I love you, Ora.” 

“I love you, Gale.” 

******

Auroria curled into Gale, resting her head on his chest as they both came down from such blissful heights. She traced the lines of the orb marking as he lazily ran his fingers up and down her back. She felt herself drifting off to sleep when she heard it, the faintest whisper. 

“I will stay with you. I will live.”

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfiction #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #woodweave #weave and woods fic #weave and woods #bg3 ao3 #my writing

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.8k 

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: Short chapter to introduce Reader to the bunker and having more interactions between Reader and Dean.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

You stumbled into your kitchen while your coffee was brewing. You had come back after a difficult hunt that had left you with a couple of stitches on your hip, and a few bruises on your face and body. You swallowed some painkillers with your coffee. This was going to be a slow day for you. No hunts. No visits from family. Just you and your cup of coffee, and probably some television. The perfect rest day. Your eyes drifted to your living room. On the wall facing you, there was a framed photo of your family. One of the rare ones that you still had.

Life at home wasn't always ideal when you were growing up. Your parents were not the bests example of loving and compassionate parents. They could be neglectful and somewhat abusive. You had taken their sides over your siblings more times than not, only to keep the peace. Trying to maintain chaos at bay. Of course, your siblings had resented you over the years because you weren’t doing enough for them. And they were right. You had not.

You tried to make up for it these days but it was hard to when your siblings were barely talking to you. Except maybe for your brother; Matt; the only one who still made sure you were taken care of. You were lucky to have him still. Still, you did not understand why he kept coming around.

A loud knock on your front door disturbed the quietness of your apartment. “I’m coming.” You secured the fresh bandage on your hip, before going to your front door. You grabbed your gun on your way there. You looked through the peephole. It was your brother.

“You look like shit.” Matt said, once you let him in.

“Thanks.” You answered dryly. “But you should see the other guy.” You said jokingly as you shut the door behind him.

He put down the bags he was holding on the kitchen table, and turned to you. He rested his hands on your shoulders and looked down at you. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You assured him. "I still know how to take a beating."

"Not funny." He berated you lightly.

"Sorry." His eyes roamed over your face. After, he was satisfied with his inspection, he pulled you into a hug. “Come here.”

You wrapped your arms around him, and just let yourself enjoy the simple hug. It was just a hug but it felt like everything you needed.

“No, no, no.” You heard from behind you. You excused yourself as you were being pulled aside by none other than Dean Winchester.

“Hey, Bucko!” You smiled at him, ripping your arm out of his grip. “Sam.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked you, already annoyed at your being here.

“Pleasure to see you too, Winchester.” You replied dryly, ripping you arm out of his grip.

He gave you a deadpan look, “that’s our hunt. And you’re not taking it from us.”

“Didn’t know there was an ongoing competition between us.” You said with a wry smile.

“Competition?” Dean repeated and looked you up and down. “Barely.”

You gasped. “You did not just give me the up and down look, did ya?”

“What are you gonna do about it, Princess?”

“Alright, you two,” Sam wore an amused smile on his face. “Maybe we can find a way to work together.”

“You’re right,” you nodded. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time fiasco. Right, Bucko?”

You walked past him, and patted his shoulder. Sam chuckled as he followed you inside. Months had passed since you last saw them. Only hearing of them in passing, although you'd rather have loved no mentions of them. Or more specifically of Dean. You felt bad for putting Sam in the same category as his brother but they were a package deal. And those two seemed to be attached to the hip.

You were still sporting a few bruises from your last hunt. Matt had wanted you to stay longer at your apartment, to take a longer rest. But you were starting to stir crazy, sitting in your couch all day. And you couldn’t sit still any longer. Although, he disagreed with your decision to go back on the road, he made you promise that you’d take it easy.

Or at least you promised you’d try.

“You really are the worse, you know that.” Dean glared down at you.

“And you’re an asshole but I’m not complaining about it, now, am I?” You shot back following him and his brother back to their car.

The hunt had gone pretty smoothly. Once you had figured out that it was a revenant, and once it was confirmed by the absence of a body in the grave. You all set out to get the monster back in its coffin, and used silver to make sure it remained there.

“It’s not that hard to follow simple instructions, now, is it?” Dean threw his shovel into the trunk of his car.

“No, it’s not. But it becomes stupid to follow them when one of you is in a bad situation. And it clearly looked like you needed help.” You retorted, your shovel joining his own.

“I was handling it, princess.”

“Didn’t look like you were, bucko.”

You both glared at each other, angrily. No matter what you did, Dean still saw you as a nuisance. A thorn in his side that he was trying to get rid of. And you couldn’t understand why. You had done nothing to provoke his blatant hostility. And you’d think that after saving his life, once again, he would just drop the attitude. But it seemed to only anger him even more.

The petty person within met him at his level. Fighting fire with fire. But the people pleaser within, just couldn’t stand the idea of him not liking you. You didn’t understand why and couldn’t figure it out. And you hated it.

You followed the Winchesters down the spiraling stairs that led you deeper into the bunker.  Sam, more than his brother, had invited you back to their new location. Sam had given you a quick tour. As quick as it could be in this huge place. There were many bedrooms, a kitchen, a war room, and many other places of the sort. But most importantly there was also a large library.

“That place is sweet.” You had beamed, walking into the kitchen behind Sam.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great.” Sam nodded, smiling.

“How did you find it?”

“None of your business, kid.”

You rolled your eyes at Dean as he walked past you, “alright, keep your secrets.” You turned to Sam. “If I ever need to research things, can I borrow some of those books?” You pointed towards the library.

“You’re welcome to it,” Sam grinned at you. “Anytime you need.”

“Yeah.” You squealed, Dean turned to you before rolling his eyes. “Sorry.”

Later, you found yourself in the library reading a book about some wiccan rituals. Nothing you really needed to know but you had picked it out of curiosity, you were intrigued by the title. Sam was sitting across from you working on his laptop, probably searching for another hunt, you thought. Dean was wherever the hell Dean was, you couldn’t care less.

“I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again. This place is amazing.” You suddenly said, shutting the book before pushing it away from you. Sam looked up from his laptop at you. “Can you imagine how much knowledge those people have gathered over the years?” You continued gushing. “I mean, it must be infinite.”

“I don’t think it’s infinite but huge, yeah.” Sam agreed. “It would probably make hunting easier.”

“Definitely.” You leaned back into your chair. “You guys are so lucky to have found this place.”

“You know if you ever need a place to lay low, you’re welcome to stop by.” Sam offered.

You smiled at him. “That’s really kind of you but I already have a place like that. I mean - not exactly like that. I have a place to lay low, between two hunts.” You spoke. “My brother is making sure that I stop by every once in a while, just to check if I’m still alive.”

“Older?”

“Younger.” You told him. “He likes taking care of me, so I let him do it.”

“Sounds like you two are very close.”

“Wasn’t always this way.” You pushed out a sigh. “It’s funny, you know ‘cause growing up, we hated each other. And nowadays, he is the only person I can count on.”

“But he’s not hunting with you.” Sam noted.

“That’s because he’s not a hunter.” You leaned your elbows on the table. “Unlike you, Winchesters, hunting is not exactly a family business.”

It wasn’t. Hunting had stumbled upon you one day. So, you told Sam everything about the night where it all began for you. You never were a big fan of camping. Naturally, when your best friend suggested you go on a camping trip, you refused at first. And with much insistence on her part, you finally agreed. But the camping trip had turned bloody and deadly pretty quickly. You and your group had found yourself on a Wendigo hunting ground.

This encounter had changed your entire world. It opened your eyes to the underground world of hunting. Silent warriors that kept evil at bay at the risks of their own lives. Receiving no rewards and no gratitude. Not exactly a career you would have chosen for yourself. But as said previously, you couldn’t go back to your life and continue your existence as though you knew nothing of this world. Not after you had a glimpse of it.

“Don’t talk to me.” You said before Dean could utter a word as he walked into the kitchen. The sight of him alone, in his grey robe, his messy bed hair, was enough to irritate you.

“Well, someone’s cranky today.” Dean walked to the coffee pot.

“Well, someone needs to shut up.”

“Guys, please—” Sam sighed, sitting down next to you.

“She started it.” Dean replied to his brother.

“What are you? 12?” You shot back at him.

“I’m 12? What does that make you then?” Dean argued back.

Sam got up with his coffee and breakfast and left the kitchen. “Look, what you did? You made Sam run away. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Nah, that one’s not on me.” He sat across from you. “He ran away because of your ugly mug.”

“Is that the best you can come up with?” You said in a bored tone, taking another sip.

“Shut up.”

You hummed, nodding your head, “great come back.” You stood up, and moved to leave the room. “You look ridiculous in that robe, by the way.”

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#dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus sized!reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #siampie writes

[buddie911abc]

A Little Buddie Hope in all that Trama?

Last week, I had a mopey post about my worries that the show would erase Buddie from previous seasons in order to make the new storylines work with what the actors and producers are saying about the characters. i.e. Eddie is heterosexual. I'm still not sure we will get canon, but I'm hopeful because one, I found a flaw in my reasoning for that post. And two, I remembered Athena's relationship with her first husband, Michael.

In season one, Michael came out as a gay man. Not bi. He was married to Athena with two kids. He loved her. He never stopped saying that he loved her. But he wasn't "IN" love with her. At one time, he said he hoped Athena would fix him. When he learned that she had been attacked in season three, he ran to be with her when he got the call. He was in mid-conversation with the man he eventually married, and he didn't even stop to tell him why he was leaving.

If we look at Eddie, he may or may not be as self-aware as Michael. I'm hoping he is because the show has given us clues in previous seasons that would fit with this interpretation of Eddie. Within the first few episodes that Eddie is in, he talks about how he isn't dating, how the girls they met on a call weren't his type, etc. Later, Buck finds help for Christopher through Carla. He tricks Eddie into coming to his place by saying he needs help to move Maddie. When Eddie learns it was a lie, his expression is a little annoyed at first and then filters to dread. He asks Buck if he is trying to set him up. Buck doesn't quite answer, he goes to answer the door and it's Carla. The expressions that go across Eddie's face, to me, were telling. Relief, surprise, and a new look just for Buck. [I feel this is the moment he fell in love or began to fall in love with Buck.-- There is also a whole other side to those first episodes after Buck starts to accept Eddie. In those episodes, he tries to please Eddie, and he stutters when he talks. He is shy and flirty, but that's a whole different thing.]

Anyway, back to Eddie. When he was with Ana, he almost mirrored Michael by admitting that he thought things would work with them, the "idea" of them. Chris loved her so much, that Eddie thought he would too. In another episode, he talks about feeling as though he were performing. Hen gives him a look that matches the one she gave Tommy & Buck in season 7 when Buck had soot on his face. The scene moves quickly so you can easily miss it, but it's there. There are more moments than I've named here that speak to Eddie's feelings, and these are the moments I felt would have to be erased if we believed Ryan Guzman about Eddie's heterosexuality. In my previous post, I was mopey about that until I realized a flaw in my thinking.

Tim has known his plans for Buck for a while. He actually wasn't sure if it was going to be Eddie instead. (most of us know that already) Either way, he knew as the episodes were being written for season 7 what would happen for Buck and that people would be paying close attention to Eddie. Within those first episodes, Eddie talks to Bobby and admits that he married Shannon because she got pregnant and they both felt pressured into it, but he never regretted it. Even when things got bad, he loved being married to her. (again the "idea" of it, just like what he said to Ana. Also, he said, that he loved being married- he didn't say he loved Shannon.) [I need help here. Someone to meta it for me-I have a big disconnect from the way Ryan nailed that scene with Kim in the most recent episode. To bring that much emotion and tears to this scene doesn't match with what he said to Bobby earlier in the season.]

Also in this season, we have Eddie referring to his Catholic past. The church, as most of us know has a long-established history of homophobia. Eddie talks about how deeply his family was into Latin-based Catholicism. While there is no direct mention of homophobia, there doesn't have to be. He talks about reaching a certain age and saying it wasn't for him. I think an awareness of his sexuality could have prevented him from fully buying into religion. However, rejecting religion doesn't mean those toxic messages weren't still there. Those messages were alongside the pressures he received from his father as young as 10 to be a man.

** Edit ** There is a space here for Eddie's reaction to Buck coming out. Based on this interpretation, it still makes sense for him to accept Buck. This is who Eddie is. He can accept Buck for everything he is without question. Despite the hold that the church and toxic masculinity have on him, Eddie doesn't hold anyone to that same standard. He rejected it when he rejected religion, but he is holding himself to that standard, and I believe this is the main part of the story that the show has not revealed to us yet. Eddie is not homophobic. Why can't he accept himself if he can accept others? (assuming this interpretation is the correct one.) Is Eddie so desperate to have his father's love? Is it that deep well of Catholic guilt he talked about? [Will Eddie, at some point, end up in a confessional, giving us all the canon we long for? I'd personally, love to see him alone by Bobby's bedside, holding that prayer book, and confessing to him the truth. That would slap. lol]

I had forgotten that these scenes were in season 7 when Tim knew full well what was coming with Buck. This doesn't mean that he will definitely write Eddie into a coming-out story, but it does mean that he is not likely to erase the stories that made me ship Buddie in the first place. If he were planning to erase those stories, he would not still be adding little pieces to that story.

TL;DR - My logic was flawed in my last post. Buddie isn't canon, and I do vacillate back and forth about this subject but hope is not completely gone for a Buddie endgame.

** edited to add ^ ^ ^

#buddie #911 abc #911 spoilers #oliver stark #evan buckley #ryan guzman #eddie diaz

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 10

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 10: wear this tonight

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"You cheated!" Nym cried.

"It's quite rude to accuse someone of cheating. Especially when they've won fair and square." Alastor gathered the cards and stacked them neatly together. "Another game, little devil?"

"You bet!" She slammed her hand on the wood table. Alastor inwardly grimaced. His plan wasn't working. Nym had bothered him about teaching her a card game since the early morning. He couldn't do anything about her either with his soulmate in the other room listening carefully. It had only been a few weeks since his scare incident with the Nym and Thatcher.

"You should have asked for Husker to teach you. He's an easier opponent for beginners," Alastor said as he shuffled the cards. If only the cat Demon had been here to hear the dig.

The conversation was carrying upstairs to where Niffty and I were cleaning. Winter hadn't been terrible this year and now we were reaching Spring. The windows were all open and sending a cool breeze through the house. It was one of those days where it was freezing in the shade but sweltering in the sun.

Niffty was cleaning the kids' rooms while I organized and cleaned the master bedroom. The carpets and wood planks were reverted back to their new state, the curtains freed of dust, and everything else returned to their original state.

I kneeled on the floor to fix the boards under the bed. Shadows caught my eye and I found a few books hidden in the corner on Alastor's side of the bed. I pulled them out and examined the titles, surprised that none of them were covered in dust like the rest of the room.

Human Anatomy - Sex Explained

Intimacy In The Bedroom

Impress A Lady Under The Sheets

My hand covered my mouth as my cheeks started to burn. Alastor and I had gotten more intimate in the last few weeks but we never went all the way. It was something that crossed our minds in the moment, something I think we both wanted to do, but we never actually talked about it.

I opened the one that was titled Intimacy In The Bedroom. The first half of the book was mostly text about intimacy before the bedroom and all the things Alastor and I had already done.

The second half was when things got...graphic.

I put the book down.

Did he actually want to have sex with me? Last we had spoken about things like that, he wasn't really into the act itself. Had that changed? Did he want to do it or did he think I wanted it and was doing it solely to satisfy me?

Then another thought crossed my mind.

As far as I knew, he was a virgin. Was he reading these books to educate himself? To ready himself in case I ever did want to go all the way? It seemed like something he would do. Always the all-knowing Demon, always the master of everything, always in control.

The door handle turned. I shoved the books under the bed and shot to my feet. I pretended to walk in his direction as Alastor stepped in. He immediately tried to touch his mind to mine but I kept him in a shallow spot.

"Please entertain the small child," he said, casting a glance over his shoulder as Nym trailed behind him with the deck of cards.

"We've only played three rounds," Nym whined. I chuckled and approached her.

"You have a longer attention span." I placed a careful claw on her shoulder. "Give him a break for awhile."

She made an annoyed, disappointed look before crossing the hallway to her and Thatcher's room. Her brother was out playing with a new friend.

"How gracious of you." Alastor cupped my cheek and planted a kiss on my lips. I wrapped an arm around his back and laid my head on his chest. He held his cane in one hand and the other held my shoulders.

"Don't forget we have the celebration gala tomorrow night," I reminded. Charlie had finally finished the event details and had sent invitations out to everyone two weeks ago.

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "Why are you keeping me at such a distance?" He prodded my mind in an effort to connect deeper.

"I have a surprise for you," I replied a little too quickly. "You'll get it by tomorrow."

He continued to look at me for a moment longer, trying to decipher if I was being honest or not. Fortunately it was partially true so he didn't ask further.

So after dinner, with Alastor up doing one of his broadcasts in his office, I snuck out to Arleen's store. My claws tapped on the cobblestone street as I walked up to the porch. The sign read CLOSED but a single light still flickered in one of the side rooms. I opened the door, a simple ring from the bell above, and found the gorgeous butterfly Demon working on a project at her desk. The room was covered from floor to ceiling in all kinds of silk and threads. Arleen in a clean room was something to be concerned about.

"And so she arrives," Arleen teased without looking up. She was wearing her typical purple skirt, white shirt, and gold jewelry on her neck, hands, and waist. Her tan skin looked soft under the yellow lantern light. While most of the city already had electricity now, some people like Arleen enjoyed a good old lantern every now and then.

Her red butterfly wings and long, thin tail were surprisingly still. She was usually so full of energy and spunk. I leaned against the wall and waited, watching her stick out her tongue as she finished a difficult seam. She leaned back, examined it for a few seconds, then nodded her head in triumph.

She jumped from her seat with such energy that I flinched. She glided past me, wings fluttering as she did, and showed me to the closet where all her finished orders hung. She pulled out a black suite and hung it up on an empty rack. She flipped on a light switch and held up her hands.

"So? What do you think?" she asked, practically tripping over her words. "Figured you'd want to see his first."

A smile pulled on my lips as I examined the outfit. The suit jacket seemed like a typical jacket until I unbuttoned it to reveal a red underlining. The black vest underneath somehow seemed darker, though I blame that on the bright red surrounding it. The button up underneath was one of his usual red shirts that I had managed to snag from his wardrobe. The pants were pretty much his usual black ones with brighter red accents on the bottom.

So much red and black.

"Perfect," I purred. The texture was softer than his usual attire and I couldn't help but rub it between my fingers a little longer.

"Here's yours." Arleen pulled out a dress and hung it beside the suit. My mouth dropped open and I took a step back to examine it fully.

The dress was primarily a deep red, almost maroon like my color, but had black backgrounds that looked like the night sky. It wasn't too flowy and not too form fitting. It looked like it would fit perfectly on me and fall at just the right spot at my ankles. It gave me enough room to move around without tripping on anything.

The top of the dress was a low cut. The sleeves would fall just over my shoulder. It came to a point in front of my chest rather than trying to fit to my breasts in a revealing way. It was exactly as I had envisioned it would look like, exactly my taste and colors.

"You've done it," I said, mouth still agape. "I can't...you're amazing."

Arleen's wings fluttered at the compliment. She twisted her toes into the wood floor and clasped her hands together. "I was worried you might not like it."

"You must be joking. This is outstanding!" I stepped up to touch the fabric, even more shocked at how soft it felt. "I don't know how you've managed to do this."

"I'm just relieved you like it."

"Thank you so much for doing this. Especially with all your work."

"Oh it was nothing. I was honored that you asked me to do this for you. So you like them both?"

"Of course." I continued to play with the fabric. I couldn't wait to wear it.

"Good. Both fabrics are a little tougher than what I usually make because of claws and everything."

I glanced at my razor sharp, black claws. "Smart."

"Oh! I have something else." She practically lunged into the closet and came back with a black box. "I know you said you had jewelry, but I thought maybe the Radio--Alastor--could wear something else." In the box was a set of gold studs and earrings.

"Where would they go?" I asked. My face was warm with embarrassment.

"On his ear things." She pointed to the top of her own head. "They're just clip ons. They go on the black part of his ears. If you guys don't want to use them you don't have to, it was just something I thought would look good on him. You know, the designer in me and everything. Always coming up with crazy ideas."

"We'll give them a try." I took the box before she could psych herself out of it. "I've never seen him with something like this on. I'm curious to know what they look like."

"Oh, good." She rocked on her heels and locked her hands in front of her. "So, want to take the outfits with you?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to keep them here until tomorrow night. I don't want him to see this yet."

"Sure, no problem."

****

"That's all we have time for today folks. Thanks for tuning into this very special broadcast." Alastor flipped the switch and leaned back in his chair. He could never grow tired of always ending his broadcasts that way. So chipper yet threatening at the same time.

He stayed in the quiet little office for awhile. He had to attend Charlie and Lucifer's little gala tonight. He had been dreading having to deal with the other Overlords after his leave of absence. Though the only good thing that would come out of this event was the improve of status of his soulmate's relationship and image. Perhaps after tonight she wouldn't be considered an easy target anymore; wouldn't be someone others would attempt to kill in order to rid him from both realms.

He was dreading the interaction with Vox most of all.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he finally pushed himself out of the old chair. He swung his cane behind his back and entered his room through the connecting doorway. He was surprised to find his soulmate missing. Surely you knew you needed to leave soon. He could sense you were in Reagan's room so perhaps you had already gotten yourself together.

Something on the bed caught his attention. He crossed the room to find a black suit laid out on the comforter. A small white card laid on top of it: Wear this tonight

His smile quirked up at your chicken-scratch handwriting. Part of him wanted to wear his usual attire like he had planned, purely out of spite of this soft command, but the other part of him was curious what this new suit would look like on him. Not to mention, you had clearly gone out of your way to obtain it and had even said the day before that you had a surprise for him.

So, he put it on.

He went to the full mirror in the far corner of the room to look himself over. He had always worn red with black accents, never black with red. It was an invert of his usual outfit but he didn't hate it. Though he wasn't sure how he felt about the black tie instead of a bow tie. He was also unsure how to feel about the fact that his tail had been taken into account and hidden under the jacket. Had you made this yourself or had you asked someone? If you had asked someone, he would need to ensure they didn't reveal that information to anyone.

A knock at the door drew his attention. He could sense your presence and admitted you in. His eyebrows quirked up and all words left his mouth as he watched you enter. You were wearing a gorgeous maroon dress that looked like the night sky. Your exposed shoulders showed off your smooth skin. Only little white scars remained to tell the story of your difficult past.

The dress itself was astounding but you made it even better. Your black horns curved perfectly over your head and were even adorned in gold jewelry that swung whenever you moved. Your black claws and skin blended together - a perfect combination of Demon and Human. The Angel part of you was seen only in your sweet magic.

You seemed uncomfortable in his prolonged silence. You shifted twice and messed with the dress for no reason. "What do you think?"

"You're beautiful," was all he could manage. He wanted to say more but it felt as if his words wouldn't quite hit the mark. He wanted to continue to look at you, take you in, drink in the way your body curved, and meet the sharp gaze that was a little hesitant at the moment.

He blinked twice to reel himself back in. He crossed the room and held out a red claw for you to take. It looked like you had lengthened your claws a touch as he folded his own around them. They seemed sharper, deadlier. He turned your hand over and placed a kiss on the back of it, watching as your face turned a slight shade of pink. Were you wearing makeup?

"Astounding you are," he said next. He straightened up and ran his hand carefully along your soft arm. "The perfect embodiment of a powerful Demon."

That made you look up at him. You finally let his mind in and he gathered up all the information you had been hiding away for the past two days. He could feel your confidence slowly building from his single compliment.

He brushed his knuckles along your cheek and noticed the long earrings. They were the family crest--a combination of his symbol and yours--but the one that lay on your chest, which you had been holding onto since the beginning, was his crest. He preferred you to wear that one.

"Oh, I have something else." You looked at your palm and conjured a simple black box. He was surprised to see such magic from you but didn't have any time to comment on it. His attention was drawn to the gold jewelry inside the box. "Arleen said these would look good on you. What do you think?"

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the box to examine it further. They seemed like rather simple gold studs. He had never considered jewelry. His mother and sister always loved the necklaces and earrings he had found for special occasions. He had seen other men wear a single earring before but did that suit him?

"Maybe we can see how they look?" you pressed gently.

"Very well." He handed back the box and sat himself on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. A smile crept across your face as you followed, grabbing one of the studs and putting the box beside him. Your claws brushed his ear first--avoiding the natural flick he always had when you touched his ears--then clipped the first stud on. He half expected there to be pain, instead finding only slight discomfort at the new feeling.

You grabbed another one. He wrapped an arm around your perfect waist and earned an endearing laugh from you. His fingers fiddled with the soft fabric as you messed with his ear tuffs. His eyes closed at the sensation, especially when you gave them a quick rub at the base when you were done.

"There." You stepped away to examine your handiwork. He stood and found the mirror again to see for himself. The gold jewelry had been placed only on the black outline of his ears. He was shocked to hear himself think he looked pretty good with them.

"I suppose they fit," he said.

"We can take them off if you don't like them." You came to stand behind him.

He turned around. "Do you like them?"

You blinked in surprise. "Oh...uh...well, yes. I think they look really good on you." He could sense the surprise came from him asking for your opinion. It felt natural for him but he supposed that he didn't ask for it as often as he thought he did. "You look handsome."

He didn't react. His hands were still, his feet frozen in place, and his smile as he had left it. The only thing that was moving was his wretched tail. It swooshed under the fabric of his long black jacket. 

His breath caught in his throat when your eyes searched for the source of the sound. He commanded his tail to stop and placed a quick kiss on your lips to distract you. It worked but not in the way he had expected. You chuckled and reached up to wipe your thumb across his lips.

"Careful Al, I've got lipstick on." You rubbed your fingers together to rid your skin of the dark lipstick. He was eternally grateful that you had gone back to using the nickname.

"Then let us go before I find better ways to pass the time." He looked you up and down and snuck his tongue out to run along his teeth. You rolled your eyes at the remark and swiftly left the room. He trailed close behind, watching as you ran your hand along the wall where his shadow was holding out a claw to you. He banished the mischievous shadow as you reached the stairs.

Outside, the night was warm and carrying a salty breeze up the cliff. You instinctively wrapped an arm around his waist as he teleported the two of you down into Hell.

The palace was exactly as it always had been, save for the enclosed ballroom. Vox and I had been instructed to arrive somewhere else to await a grand entrance to the rest of the guests. Vox was already waiting, taping away at his phone. I felt Alastor physically and mentally stiffen.

Vox noticed our arrival. "My my, don't you look astonishing," he greeted. He shoved his phone in his pocket and walked towards us with open arms. He was dressed in a bright blue vest with silver stitching and laces all over. He wore a white shirt underneath and a matching blue suit jacket. He topped the whole thing off with his usual red bow tie. "How have you been?"

"Alright I suppose." I held out my hand first so Alastor wouldn't get upset. Vox took it and placed a kiss on the back. His eyes jumped up to Alastor's for a reaction.

"I'm glad to hear it. You know, you don't—"

"Alastor." All three of us turned at the sound of Lucifer's voice. "You can wait for her in the ballroom. I need to speak with the two of them." Lucifer was wearing a black version of his usual outfit. It was weird to see him in a dark color.

Alastor's grip tightened on my shoulder.

Go. I'll come find you after, I instructed gently.

Alastor hesitated a moment longer, waiting until Lucifer was standing literally toe to toe with him. He casted his gaze to mine. "Very well," he said and unstuck his hand from my shoulder. The sound of his footsteps and cane echoed down the hall until we couldn't hear it any longer.

"Well then, are you two ready?" Lucifer smiled.

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Author's Note:

Keep reading, devils. We're getting somewhere.

Next part!

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Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall @martinys-world

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

[swayingluv]

Prey of Hell - Chapter 4

Alastor x Buné (OC) Chapter 4: Puns n' Fun

Previous Chapter Word Count: 3387

“Who are you?” Alastor turned his smiling face towards the war machine in the sky, confusion prominent in his voice. His smile beamed in the red light of Hell and his mug reflected the massive pentagram above the hotel. Buné looked back and forth between the strange-looking war machine and her friend, who was completely unbothered by the deadly machine floating above them.

“Who am I? Who am I?” the serpent demon repeated twice causing Buné to giggle at his sensitive behavior. He seemed offended over Alastor not even knowing his name, despite fighting him last week. “I am the great Sir Pentious! Inventor, architect of destruction, villain extraordinaire!” He continued, pointing his finger up and bragging about himself and his abilities. While the slimy demon was busy gloating about himself, Alastor dropped down into the shadows and slid down to the entrance of the hotel. Buné looked down to where Alastor moved, noticing that Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie had all joined Alastor in viewing this attack. Buné thought to herself for a second before jumping down next to Alastor and Charlie, wondering why this guy was still going on.

Niffty appeared out of no where, grasping her hands up to her face in awe. Buné jumped back at this, surprised to see the little demon just appear out of no where. “Niffty! Where did you come from?” The rabbit demon asked, looking Niffty in her one eye. Buné pet Niffty on her head as she responded.

“I heard a bad boy!” Niffty giggled and narrowed her eye with a bright smile, grinning at the idea of a bad boy being right in front of her. Her laugh was extremely mischievous, causing Buné to giggle as well. Niffty had always been obsessed with the idea of a bad boy for some reason, which might be the reason she’s completely okay with being in a deal with Alastor. Buné tilted her head as she thought about this, the sound of static interrupting her thoughts.

“Ha! Well, if all that’s true, you’d think I’d have heard of you.” Alastor shrugged his shoulders with his microphone in his right hand, his red eyes trailing upwards. 

Sir Pentious looked offended and confused once more, his face contorting into one that seemed to resinate with anger. “I attacked you literally last week,” he said, moving his head forward, his hands never leaving the grips of the war machine levers.

Alastor tilted his head, the sound of static and radio leaking from him. His red and black ears tilting to the side and his eyes narrowing, trying to remember the attack that had just happened a week ago. Buné looked at Alastor, then pointed her sharp claws towards the war machine in the sky. “He blew up the wall then, too! He’s quite a hiss-terical excuse for a threat!” She laughed loudly, everyone going quiet at her awful pun. That didn’t bother her, though, she just continued laughing. Even Sir Pentious went quiet, staring awkwardly at the little rabbit demon. Buné cleared her throat, “Anywayssss!” she said, dragging out her word.

“We’ve done battle, like… 20 times.” Sir Pentious lifted his arms in anger, venom lacing his voice. (Get it?)

Alastor closed his red eyes, his crimson eyelids showing themselves. He raised his hand in a half-shrug again, speaking in his usual tone of voice, “Well, you must have been really bad at this.” 

“Silence!” Sir Pentious interrupted, clearly annoyed at this situation. “Now cower!” He yelled, pointing at Alastor, who was extremely unbothered. His hair(?) flared in annoyance. “For when I’ve slain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal!” 

Niffty poked her head out again, her mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “Ooh!” She began, sounding interesting in this group. “Wait, who are the Vees?” She asked, realizing she had no idea who they actually were.

“Oh, nobody important.” Alastor told Niffty, dismissing the idea of the Vees holding any importance. 

Buné held her head up with her hand, thinking for a second. Oh, that’s Vox, isn’t it? I know him! The box-head. She thought, recalling the dispute between Alastor and Vox quite some time ago. 

Alastor then released his black tendrils, grabbing hold of the giant war machine with the slippery demon inside of it. One tendril poked at the pane of glass in the front of the machine, the other two holding it. Alastor laughed manically at this, repeating poking at the war machine to demonstrate his power.

Charlie’s eyes widened, not expecting him to do so much. “Um, Alastor? I think he’s had enough,” she suggested, gesturing towards the violent act against the snake demon.

Angel Dust had a massive smirk on his face, his gold tooth very prominent. “Nah, he’s got a few more hits in ‘im!” He raised an eyebrow, enjoying the show.

Buné tilted her head at the snake demon, watching as he struggled to keep afloat in the machine. “Don’t be so cold-blooded, Alastor!” Buné giggled at her own pun again, causing Angel Dust to give her a glare from the left side of her. 

All of a sudden, a Sir Pentious fell out of the war machine, landing right in front of Alastor’s feet. “Oh dear, seems your machine is quite slippery.” Buné crouched down and looked at him, giving him a bright smile. “I’m on a roll!”

“That you are! I’ve got a slithering suspension that this battle will slip my memory as well. Thank you for another forgettable experience!” Alastor joined in, making Buné laughed loudly at his similar puns. He twirled his glowing microphone staff in the air before leaning on it, the same smile never leaving his face.

An egg fell down from the war machine, splatting right in front of Charlie. She gave a disgusting look at the now scrambled egg, backing up slightly. 

Sir Pentious raised a finger slowly and unsteadily, pointing up to Alastor, probably to get in his last words. “Thank… you…” he began, his raspy voice trailing off, “for letting your guard down!” With that, he raised his torso off of the crimson ground, using his black and yellow tail to grab a bit of Alastor’s precious coat. He tore a bit off and started laughing manically. The radio demon began to grow in size, his antlers becoming more noticeable. The sound of static licked down everyone’s spine as Sir Pentious realized the trouble he had just begun. “Haha! Yah! Oh, shit.” He cowered, trembling with his eyes wide.

Buné stepped back along with Charlie and Angel, knowing this was about to get messy. A giant green explosion made an appearence, sending the snake demon flying away. The sound of his distant screams got quieter and quieter until he was finally out of sight. 

“Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor,” Alastor began, the bright yellow smile still prominent on his face. He turned around, flicking his finger. “Best of luck, chums!” 

Vaggie stepped forward, clearly angry with the radio demon leaving so abruptly. “Wait, you’re leaving?” She questioned, frustration with the man adamant in her voice. “Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job.” Vaggie narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

Angel deadpanned at the wall, gesturing towards it. “We need a wall.” He obviously said.

Buné chimed in, walking over to the wall. “I like it! It is shaped like a heart, quite the romantic touch to this hotel,” she beamed, tracing the hole in the wall with her claws.

Alastor turned around, looking over to the giant hole in the wall. “I can’t say I agree! I can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?” He joked, snapping his finger. Many shadow monsters and voodoo creatures emerged from the ground, stitching present on almost every one of them.

Angel smirked seductively and shoved Vaggie over to the side, walking with intent over to the small voodoo creatures. “Oh-ho-ho!” He giggled, approaching one. “Hey, sweet cheeks.” He bent over, fluffing his hair and leaning against the monster. “What’cha doin’ later? I love me a man with a giant… tool.” He hinted, rubbing his hand down the shadow creature’s chest.

Buné backed up a little bit, never getting used to the vulgar conversations Angel Dust tends to have. “Well, that was quite the show!” She said, watching as the shadow monsters began working on the wall while everyone else headed back inside. Buné followed along, the sound of her heels clicking against the hard ground of Hell. 

Everyone decided to sit in the lobby area, so Buné did the same, joining them. She decided to sit in the empty chair instead of beside somebody. Charlie began talking about the hotel, discussing possibilites to gather sinners. “I think we just need more sinners to be interested in the hotel! We need to get our word out there,” she said with a sigh, her hand on her chin. 

Buné narrowed her eyes, thinking about any way to help the poor princess fufill her dream of the hotel working. Her eyes lit up, recalling the conversation she had with Alastor before they were interrupted. “Perhaps an event would do well!” She started, suggesting her idea. 

Angel Dust smirked at Buné, leaning forward. “A live event?” He raised one eyebrow, implying something Buné was definitely not.

Vaggie chimed in, shaking her head and crossing her arms into an ‘x’. “Absolutely not. There will be nothing porn related here.” 

Charlie looked over to Buné, her red eyes meeting Buné’s pink ones. “What do you mean?” She asked, holding her index finger up to her chin.

Buné shrugged, closing her eyes. “An event as in an opening ceremony, or something of the sort,” she replied, her voice calm and collected.

Charlie’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with inspiration. “That’s such a good idea, Buné! If we do that, surely people will want to go!” She cheered, closing her eyes and excitedly putting her hands up. “We could invite everyone’s friends! That will get the word out!”

Vaggie nodded, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Her smile was soft and gentle towards her girlfriend. “I agree.”

All of a sudden, the sound of Alastor’s charming voice came sounding over the speakers that littered Hell. “Salutations, good to be back on the air!” He rang out, singing the sentence that left his mouth. “Yes I know it’s been a while since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast! Sinners rejoice!” 

The TV suddenly turned on, following with a static noise leaving the so called ‘picture box’. Buné’s eyes followed to the TV, noticing the demon that was now airing on the television was none other than the box-headed TV demon, Vox, one of the three Vees. “What a dated voice!” He retaliated, anger prominent in his host voice.

Alastor’s transatlantic accent cut through the air again, “Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre video podcast,” he sang back in the argument, remaining as calm as ever.

This made Vox extremely angry, balling his hands into fists. “Come on!” He shouted, frustrated.

“Is Vox insecure pursuing allure? Fitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?” He replied while singing, everyone hearing the smile plastered on his face while he was doing this.

“Ignore his chirping!” Vox argued.

“Everyday he’s got a new format!” Alastor sang, his radio-host voice reaching throughout the entire Pentagram City.

Buné started at the TV, her mouth formed into an ‘o’, surprised to see the old rivalry be rekindled. Everyone else was staring awkwardly at the TV too, watching this argument go back and forth between the two demons.

“You’re lookin’ at the future, he’s the shit that comes before that!” Vox frowned, singing back at the radio demon.

Alastor’s grin was noticeable through his voice the entire time he was singing. “Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support? He’d be powerless without the other Vees!” 

Angel Dust peaked his head up from his phone when the Vees were mentioned, looking mildly interested in this small argument now.

Vox huffed angrily, almost sounding like a small child. “Oh, please!”

“And here’s the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team, I said no and now he’s pissy, that’s the tea!” Alastor quipped, exposing their past deals to everybody who was listening. 

The TV started flashing bright shades of blue with error text on it, glitching out as Alastor poked at Vox. “You old timey prick, I’ll show you suffering!” He managed to barely get out, his voice stuttering as he tried to continue with the song.

“Uh oh, the TV is buffering!” Alastor ridiculed, the smugness radiating from the vary radio tower he sat in.

“I’ll destroy yo-o-o-ou!” Vox buffered, the TV shutting down immediately after that last delivery. In fact, the entire hotel went pitch black after this.

“I’m afraid you’ve lost your signal.” Alastor taunted, seemingly unfazed at the fact that the entire city just lost power.

The small rabbit demon watching this whole show happen gave a laugh, drawing attention to her in the now dark room. “I hope none of you are afraid of the dark!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“Let’s begin,” Alastor started, “I’m gonna make you wish that I’d stayed gone. Tune on in. When I’m done, your status quo will know its race is run. Oh, this will be fun!” He finished with a terrifying laugh, officially making the entire city lose its power.

───────── ∘°𖤐°∘ ─────────

Eventually the power came back, providing light to the once dim city. Alastor had returned back to the hotel, getting bombarded with questions by Buné. He stood awkwardly next to her as Charlie and Vaggie waved their goodbyes, telling everyone they’d be back soon and they were going to recruit more sinners for the beloved princess’s little passion project.

“Alastor, you really do put on such an amazing show! Bravo!” Buné giggled, clapping her hands with amusement. Her pink eyes were closed, making her purple eyelids noticeable.

“It was nothing, my dear! Simply a dispute easily solved by my own hands,” he admitted, surprisingly charmingly. His grin stayed on his face, never once had anyone seen that iconic smile falter. 

Buné opened her eyes and looked up to taller and much more red radio demon, who was standing next to her with his arms placed neatly behind his back. “I’m quite surprised he became so upset. I know he’s not always the most level-headed gentleman, but that was absolutely koo-koo!” She gave a bright smile up to the man.

Alastor turned to face her, sensing her gaze upon him. “It’s always easy to press his buttons, he is a TV after all! Ha ha!” He laughed, the sound of a laughtrack playing from his now glowing microphone stand. 

Buné gave a laugh at his silly joke, pointing to the microphone stand. “You must teach me how to do something like that! People tend to dislike my jokes for some odd reason.” She tilted her head in confusion. “What if I give them my funny bone?” The rabbit demon asked, her voice sounding almost serious. She turned to look at her shoulder, getting ready to unhinge her arm from its socket.

Alastor bent down and put his hand on top of hers, gently picking it up and removing it. Buné looked at him with confusion visible in her eyes. “I’m afraid if you do that, you’ll lose that interesting sense of humor of yours,” He told her, giving her that same creepy smile on his face.

Buné thought for a moment, putting her head in her hand. “I suppose you are right!” She admitted, shrugging her shoulders.

Alastor gave her a bright smile as he brought himself back up to normal height. “I usually tend to be, darling.” He teased, a small chuckle leaving his mouth.

The pink-haired woman’s eyes then lead to his hair, up to his ears. “Alastor, dear, I have a question,” She began, looking up at his intimidating red eyes. 

The radio demon looked at her confusedly, bringing his hands to his front, resting them on his microphone stand. “And what would that be?” He questioned.

Buné held in a laugh, her bright white teeth practically gleaming in the red lighting. “Do you…” She trailed off, pointing her hand to his coat jacket, “perhaps, maybe, just by chance… have a tail?” She covered her mouth slightly with her hand, containing her laughter.

Alastor’s eyes widened, a large amount of static resonating from him. The whole room went dead quiet, Angel Dust paused his video on sinstagram, Husk dropped his glass, and Niffty stopped dusting just to hear his answer. The overlord then narrowed his crimson eyes, staring at the smaller demon. “Why, what a question! Now, I must take my leave! Do take care, as best as you can.” He proceeded to melt into the ground, leaving with just a shadow.

Buné burst out laughing, pausing at the sudden realization. “Was that a threat? From the radio demon?” She questioned, prodding over to lobby area with Angel Dust. 

Angel Dust winked at her, making an odd growling noise. “Maybe he wants you to find out, babe.” He poked, a smirk on his face. He was sprawled out on the couch, his legs hanging over the edge.

“Oh, perhaps you’re right!” Buné was lost in thought, kicking her legs as she thought about how she would execute this plan. “I’m unsure how I would do that, I fear he might kill me!” 

Angel Dust sighed, facepalming. “Not what I meant, doll. Jeez, what’s with you old-timey folk being so dense?” He rhetorically asked, not expecting her to respond. I mean, who would? “I’m unsure, maybe it’s just because our different fields of work.” Buné speculated.

The spider demon sighed heavily. “Don’t you like, kill people? I think ya’d have to be pretty keen to do that.” Angel Dust raised one eyebrow at her, he had stories about her circus before, but all of the stories were simple just rumors.

Buné’s eyes lit up, an idea entering her head. “Oh, would you like to find out? I have many job offerings! I could call up Cambion for you right now, with your height I could make you an actual star, dear!” She rambled, bringing her hands up excitedly. “I feel as though you’d make an excellent acrobat!”

Angel Dust dropped his phone, shaking his hands in denial. “Absolutely not, I wouldn’t want to be caught double-dead with your freakshow of a circus.” He objected.

Buné pouted, putting a hand over her chest dramatically. “You hurt my heart, Angel!” She fake cried.

Angel Dust rolled his eyes, picking up his phone from the ground. “Like you have a heart,” he said, disagreeing.

The small rabbit demon dropped the act and smiled at him. “I do! I could show you, all I have to do is-”

“No!” Angel Dust interrupted her as her stitches started glowing a bright pink. “Do not rip your heart out,” he interjected.

“So much for amusement.” She pouted again, resting her head on her chin in sadness. 

The door flung open and an exhausted Charlie came forward, flopping onto the other couch. Vaggie followed after Charlie with tired eyes, jumping a bit whenever her girlfriend fell onto the couch. The princess of Hell gave out a long groan.

Angel Dust raised his eyebrows, before going back to scrolling on his phone. “So, how’d it go?” He asked smugly, knowing very well it did not go well.

Vaggie let out a heavy sigh, looking down. “Not a single new recruit,” she admitted while leaning onto the same couch Charlie laid on. 

The spider demon shrugged. “Yeah, well, who wouldn’t want to use their last days not fuckin’ or fightin’?” He asked, a loud banging knock coming from the door.

Buné raised her head and peered over the wall, trying to see who was banging on the door while Vaggie opened it. As she opened the door, a familiar serpent demon stood at the door, his hat in his hands. 

“Why, hello, my dear--” was all he managed to get out before his face was met with an aggressive punch.

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel characters #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #alastor x oc #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanart #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel fandom #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #oc x canon #hazbin x reader #x oc #hazbin x oc #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #niffty #hazbin hotel husk #charlie morningstar #hazbin charlie #vaggie hazbin hotel

[lovesuhng]

start over

fluff, strangers to ?

Ending a relationship is always difficult, especially when it has lasted for years to the point of becoming an engagement. It was painful what you went through, but now it was time to start over, to take some time to rediscover yourself. 

That's how you decided to take a solo trip to a paradisiacal place. You weren't the kind of person who liked beaches, spending the day under the sun, but you felt it was necessary to have a new experience. You were at this hotel by the sea, where everyone said it had the best sunset view in the whole city. You had arrived and settled at one of the tables about an hour before the sun was supposed to set, as you had heard it would happen at 6:20 PM. 

You ordered a beer, took a book out of your bag, and looked around, seeing everyone busy taking photos to update their social media. Actually, almost everyone. Your eyes fixed on a man who was sitting alone a couple of tables away from you. He was wearing sunglasses and drinking white wine. The wind seemed like a paid actor gently swaying his black hair. The open buttons of his shirt revealing a bit of his tattoo added the perfect touch to make him extremely attractive. 

Yes, he was definitely the most attractive stranger you had ever seen. 

You realized you were staring at him for too long when he looked in your direction, as if he felt he was being watched. You quickly looked back at your book to hide how embarrassed you were at being caught and missed seeing the smile on his face. 

A few minutes later, when you were truly focused on the pages of your book, you felt a presence beside you and were surprised to see the man standing there, very close to you, holding his wine glass. 

“Excuse me, may I sit here?” he said with a charming smile. You just gestured towards the chair next to you, closing your book and placing it on the table. As he sat down, he asked, “Sorry, but I’m curious to know how such a beautiful woman is here alone reading a romance novel in this wonderful place.” 

You laughed at the man’s comment, then took a sip of your beer and replied. “First, thank you for the compliment.” He raised his glass as if toasting to the wind. “Second, this was the best way I found to wait for the sunset, but I guess now I’ll have to change my plans a bit.” You mimicked his gesture, making him smile. 

“Sorry for the lack of manners, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Johnny.” He extended his hand and you shook it, introducing yourself as well. “I found it interesting that you’re here and not taking photos.” He pointed to the other people who were doing just that. 

“I’ll leave the photos for later. But what about you, what brings you here?” 

Johnny explained that he was a DJ and had played at a party nearby the previous night, but wanted to stay a few more days to rest and enjoy the city. When he asked why you were traveling alone, you thought about telling him what had happened, but it was better to forget about it. 

“Let’s just say I want a fresh start. But let’s save that conversation for another time.”

“So, we’ll meet again?” Johnny said in a flirtatious tone and all you could do was laugh at his attempt to flirt with you. 

“Well, we’re staying at the same hotel, we’ll be here for a few more days, so we’ll run into each other.” 

“Perfect.” 

The conversation lasted for a while and you were surprised by the chemistry between you two. You talked about everything; Johnny shared his preference for drinking white wine during the day and red wine at night because, according to him, they matched the vibe. You said that even though you loved wine, you didn’t know much about it and preferred to drink beer on a hot day like this one. You spent the rest of the afternoon laughing, sharing some stories, and when he was about to tell you one of his travel adventures, you noticed the sun beginning to set. 

You asked him to help take some photos of you and you did the same for him. Then you both stayed there, watching the sun disappear into the vastness of the water, enjoying each other's company. 

“This is one of the most beautiful things I've seen,” you said, sighing, still with your eyes fixed on the horizon. 

“I agree, it’s really beautiful.” 

When you turned to Johnny, his eyes were fixed on you and it was the first time you looked directly into his honey-colored eyes. You felt him getting closer, your breaths mingled, and when your noses touched, reality hit and you quickly pulled away from him.

“Sorry, we just met, but I found you so interesting that—” 

“Calm down, Johnny, it’s okay. I’m not angry or anything, I’m just… not ready. I’ll explain later.” 

“Is that one of the reasons you’re here?” 

You just nodded. Then he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and gently held your chin, making you look into his eyes once more.

“It’s okay, I won’t pressure you into anything. But, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me tomorrow?” 

“Like, a date?”

“Like a date.”

You laughed again at how comfortable he made you feel. 

“Alright, I accept. That way you can properly explain to me how red wine matches the nighttime vibe.” 

It had been days since you had a great time as much as you did that afternoon. 

You were ready to start over alone, but, on second thought, it would be more fun if this new beginning happened alongside an attractive stranger during beautiful summer days.

#nct scenarios #nct #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct drabbles #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct 127 drabbles #johnny nct 127 #johnny drabble #johnny suh x reader #johnny #johnny fluff #johnny x reader #johnny suh #johnny au

[andtosaturn]

HIGH IN BRIGHTON by FIZZ

#fizz #fizzedit #yourfavebandfizz #dodie #dodieedit #orlagartlandedit #orla gartland #greta isaac #martin luke brown #* #*gifs #i know i said the previous one was the last one for a while but THIS is the last one for a while i prommy

[theflyingfeeling]

still sick but alive, unfortunately 🤧

#last morning when i got up i wasn't at all sure i'd live to see the release of deadzone lol #since then i've been able to walk and stand up somewhat normally without wanting to cry and/or die #last night i slept more than the two previous nights combined. which still isn't that much but at least i did sleep #i did also wake up so completely drenched in my own sweat (from mild fever going down after i had taken a painkiller for a headache)- #-that i had to get up and dry myself with a towel 😂 #and there was a huge wet spot (of sweat) on my bed where i had lied 🙂 #i have lost three fourths of my vocal range so i can't e.g. laugh #(not that i've had a whole lot to giggle about these past few days 💀) #i'm bummed out i can't do preparations for my new job #i definitely should've started earlier but i would've had plenty of time this week had i not caught the cold at the stupid festival 🤧 #i did not plan this! besides i'm not gonna start working weeks ahead for a job i'm not even getting paid for yet #for the same reason no one can expect me to work while sick for a job i haven't gotten a single penny from #hell even if i WAS paid no one could expecte me to work while sick #so i shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to work on my fic instead of the course plans #which btw i already sort of have because my predecessors gave me practically ALL the material i might need #so all i reallly need to do is change the dates of the course plans and bob's your uncle #but i'd like to also study the material a bit before teaching it so that i'll at least seem like i know what i'm talking about 💀 #mom said on the phone that i've managed situations like this before so i will manage this too and she's right i guess but 😭😭😭 #but yeah i guess this is some sort of developement from last year when i had the 'rona- #-and felt awful about ordering food/groceries in because ''i don't want to be a bother'' 😂

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

#WE CAN DO THIS #I SO TRULY BELIEVE THAT WE CAN DO THIS #WE CAN SAVE OURSELVES AND THE WORLD ALONG WITH US #climate crisis #united states #climate change #conservation #hope posting #sustainability #climate news #climate action #climate emergency #fossil fuels #global warming #environmentalism #climate hope #solarpunk #climate optimism #climate policy #earth #science #climate science #meteorology #extreme weather #renewable energy #solar power #wind power #renewables #carbon emissions #climate justice

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

#transgender #queer #transmasc #lgbtqia+ #trans man #sexism #medical sexism #feminism #male privilege

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #chubby reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu satoru #jjk #smut #jjk sukuna smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #nanami smut #suguru geto smut #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #poc reader #fem reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk au #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk asks #anon ask