#even if he does smell like cheese and must

[alaskashigh]

i couldn’t tell you if there was any sane part of me there while i was making this

#everytime i think of wisconsin i smell velveeta mac and cheese #it’s gross #i still love him anyways though #even if he does smell like cheese and must #unwashed ass idfk LMFAO #illinois there too because i’d kiss him on his hot mouth #also because i’ve been in a huge wisconsin/illinois brainrot #so theres that #illinois one of my favorite states so i just /had/ to incorporate him into something #since im always talking about california and new york #how boring of me #lol #wttt illinois #wttsh illinois #wttt wisconsin #wttsh wisconsin #wttt #welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #wttsh #ben brainard

[solarmorrigan]

“Hey.”

Eddie looks up from the inventory sheet he’s bent over (the new shipment of records isn’t going to record itself – Christ, that was awful, Henderson is contagious) to see his coworker Kyle poking his head into the back room.

“Someone left something for you at the counter.”

“Who?” Eddie asks, brows furrowed.

Most everyone in town seems to have let the murder accusations drop (embarrassed enough by their own fanatical reactions that they’d much rather forget the whole thing), but a few people still treat him like a felon walking free; it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

“Uh, real normie-looking guy. Gives you a ride sometimes.”

Eddie blinks. “Steve?”

“Yeah, sure.” Kyle shrugs. “Says you left it in his car.”

Whatever Eddie is expecting to see when he follows Kyle back out to the front counter of the music shop, a brown bag lunch isn’t it. He most certainly hadn’t left that in Steve’s car this morning.

Steve hadn’t even given him a ride that morning.

But it’s got his name on it, sure enough, in Steve’s weirdly neat handwriting. The asshole even drew a little heart next to it.

Eddie can already feel a smile pulling across his face as he snatches up the bag. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten his lunch in Steve’s car, but he certainly hadn’t brought one in with him. He’d been planning to hit up the McDonald’s down the street if he got desperate, but whatever Steve’s brought him is bound to be better.

“Your girlfriend pack that for you?” Kyle asks.

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh, for a minute not quite sure how to answer.

Gender assumptions aside, Eddie doesn’t know what to call this thing with Steve – this thing where they’d started screwing and then they’d started falling asleep together without screwing and then they’d started spending all their free time together and now Steve does things like pack Eddie lunch and bring it to him at work.

“Sorta,” he finally settles on.

“Dude, if she’s making you lunch and writing little hearts next to your name, she’s more than ‘sorta’ your girlfriend,” Kyle says.

“Yeah… Maybe,” Eddie allows, because – well, because maybe.

“Pretty nice of your friend to drive it over, though,” Kyle says. “Pretty sure at least half of my friends would’ve just eaten it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, warm and a little smug, “Steve’s a good dude.”

He digs into the lunch sack and finds an apple sitting on top (of course), a baggie of Keebler fudge cookies (score), and a Tupperware container filled with–

“Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie hugs the precious little tub full of macaroni and cheese to his chest like he’s doing his best Gollum impression. There is nothing in the world better than Steve’s mac and cheese.

It’s still warm.

“I’m taking my break!” Eddie declares, skittering off to the back room before Kyle can argue.

He sits himself down in the employee break area (a crappy folding table, two mismatched chairs, and a microwave so old he’s probably getting radiation poisoning just by sitting next to it) and digs in to the cheesy goodness that is Steve’s cooking.

He’ll eat the apple after, he reasons.

(No he won’t.)

As he eats, his eyes drift back to the crumpled brown bag, to the little heart drawn in bleeding black sharpie, and he thinks.

-

Steve’s house smells like chicken and herbs when Eddie lets himself in early in the evening, and oh, Steve must be in a good mood today.

Eddie feels spoiled.

He finds Steve in the kitchen, wrist-deep in sudsy water as he sways back and forth absently to the tune of the rock station coming from the radio on the windowsill. The room is warm, and something delicious-smelling in a covered pan is simmering on the stove, and the space behind Steve is invitingly empty, just waiting for Eddie to sidle up into it.

Eddie feels so, so spoiled.

Steve doesn’t startle when Eddie slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, but Eddie isn’t really surprised anymore; it seems like Steve can always tell when someone is there.

He does glance over his shoulder, though, just long enough for Eddie to see the smile on his face before he turns back to the dishes. “Hi.”

Eddie’s pretty sure the smile on his own face is softer and infinitely more besotted. “Hi.”

“Good day at work?” Steve asks.

Eddie hums, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s shoulder. “You brought me lunch.”

“I’m glad Kyle actually gave it to you,” Steve says. “Wasn’t sure someone else wouldn’t eat it.”

“I got it,” Eddie says, as if there was any doubt with the way he’s still smiling in between trailing little kisses up Steve’s neck.

Steve shuts the water off and dries his hands on the towel hanging off the cupboard door before turning in Eddie’s arms to give him a proper kiss. “It was good?”

Eddie hums again. “You brought me lunch.”

“We’ve established that, yeah,” Steve laughs, allowing Eddie another kiss as he grins.

“You made me lunch,” Eddie says, pecking another kiss to Steve’s lips, still smiling like an idiot. “And you drove it up to the store for me.”

Steve shrugs, a little coy. “It’s my day off. I had time to kill.”

“Kyle says that makes you more than sorta my girlfriend,” Eddie replies, as if that will make any sense at all to Steve.

Whether it makes sense or not, it does make him laugh, and Eddie peppers kisses all over his face while he does.

“So it was good?” Steve asks again, when he’s caught his breath.

“You made me lunch and then you drove it over to me,” Eddie stresses. “It could’ve tasted like ass, and it still would’ve been the best thing ever.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but is more than obliging to the deep kiss Eddie pulls him into after that.

“But just so we’re clear,” Steve says when they break apart, “it didn’t taste like ass, right?”

“Oh my god, no,” Eddie finally relents. “It was literally the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I’m going to marry you so you can make that mac and cheese for me every day.”

“Every day, huh?” There’s a funny little smile climbing back over Steve’s face. “You sure you won’t get sick of it?”

“Nah,” Eddie replies confidently. “Never.”

They’re both smiling a little too much now to really kiss, but they make a good go of it anyway.

[Prompt: Smiling between kisses]

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote

[morverenmaybewrites]

Domestic Arkham!Jason Todd Headcanons

Y’all ever think about the inherent tragedy of Arkham!Jason craving something as simple as domesticity? 

How he craves the comfort of home-cooked meals, but can’t actually eat anything he hasn’t prepared himself. Because during his time in Joker’s captivity, almost everything he was served was either poisoned or rotten, and now every time he eats, it’s like he’s expecting the burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.

Can you imagine the frustration he must feel at his inability to share a simple meal with you? 

The sudden clench in his gut when he realizes that he wasn’t there to watch you prepare the food, and despite the fact that he trusts you, he can’t help that familiar dread rising in the back of his throat. 

Jason tries, for you, he tries. 

But there are times, more often than not, when he feels the phantom burn of poison or the flavor of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth–and his body reacts before his mind does. 

And suddenly he’s hunched over the sink or the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food, and it’s almost like he never left Arkham Asylum.

Can you imagine the absolute burning jealousy he feels whenever his family interacts with you with an ease he can only dream of? 

Maybe it’s a movie night, during one of those rare times when Gotham City didn’t need saving, and there’s Tim and Dick and Barbara piled on the couch. And you fit so well with them–a tangle of limbs and careless laughter at a dumb joke Dick made–that it’s Jason who feels like an outsider. 

Jason sits apart from all of you, the only person to pick an armchair instead of the couch, because every time he tries to sit close to someone, all he can think is whether they’re close enough to see his scars.

The table is piled high with snacks, more than the five of you can realistically eat in an evening. There’s popcorn and pizza, mozzarella sticks and pretzels, several bars of chocolate that can only be found in Bludhaven, the air is thick with the smell of grease and cheese dust. 

And it’s almost like being a teenager again. Before that night and the Joker and everything else that followed. 

It’s almost like being a teenager again, dizzy with the good fortune of being adopted by Bruce fucking Wayne, watching some dumb flick with his siblings when he was supposed to be training. Ordering takeout food and laughing along with Dick at Alfred’s visible disappointment as they stuff their faces. 

It’s almost like being a teenager again, but not quite. 

Jason watches the four of you pass around a bowl of popcorn, arguing about which genre of movie to start with. But when Barbara tries to hand it to him, he feels a sudden clot of heat in his chest, and he’s already shaking his head before he even knows why. 

And he realizes, he’s afraid. 

He doesn’t know who made the food or what restaurant it was ordered from, and he is sure if he asks, no one would be able to give him all of the names of people who handled it. 

The burn of poison and the taste of something sour and rotten flooding his mouth.

Poisoned cake and rotting rats. The writhing of pale white maggots against bone and glistening meat and gristle.

He doesn’t touch anything for the rest of the evening.

Can you imagine how scared he is? 

Jason is so acutely, painfully aware of how exhausting it is to be with him. To be with someone you can’t even share a simple meal with. 

And he wonders how long it will be before you get tired of him.

Bruce, after all, had left after he had seen the twisted thing Jason had become. 

And if his own father couldn’t even stomach his presence–

And suddenly he’s hunched over again, over the sink or against the toilet, vomiting out half-digested food. 

And it really is like he never left Arkham Asylum after all.

This is what he thinks, when he finally collapses on the tiles of your bathroom floor, cold sweat pouring down his face. Your presence hovering over him like a ghost, a thousand apologies pouring from your throat. 

But it’s not you that’s the problem, it’s him. 

It’s this awful thing in the back of his head, always expecting the next threat, the next injury, the next sick game the Joker has come up with. 

It’s the fact that his days with the Joker had left him so twisted and strange that he can no longer fit into a normal life, even when he wants to. 

And this is what he thinks, when you catch the way he is not watching the movie at all. But instead he is looking at his family’s faces, his chest pulsing with a jealousy so fierce it might as well have been his heartbeat.

Jason wishes–oh, how he wishes–it was that easy, that simple for him. 

You disentangle yourself from his siblings–Dick had already fallen asleep, head lolling heavily on your shoulder, to pad your way to him. You sink down onto the armchair to share it with him, practically on top of him, and he marvels at the way your heat dispels the chill that has crept over him. 

Your hands are small compared to his, but they are just big enough that when you lay them atop of his, he does not have to think about whether you can see the scars. 

This is what he thinks, on days like these. It is something he always thinks, a small voice in the back of his head that is never silenced.  

He doesn't deserve you. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks to @red--pirate for the idea!

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #it's all right jason i've been eating the scented candles when no one is looking we're all a little weird #alexa play “my love is sick” #tw ptsd #tw poisoning #tw trauma #tw internalized victim blaming

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Get Them For You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe never hesitates to get Y/N what she wants.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Even though Y/N has told Rafe countless times, he does the best he can to be a provider for her, buying her food, clothes, books, scientific equipment he doesn’t understand what it does and anything else he can think of. He will literally do everything in his power to get her the whole world. They are at the mall shopping for a new leather jacket for him. They’ve been there for a few hours, taking their time to peruse around the stores. Her stomach begins to cry out its need for sustenance. As they continue to the next store, a delicious buttery and salty smell enters the air. Her head turns in the direction of where this sensory stimulus is coming from. The small glance toward Auntie Anne’s Pretzels does not go unnoticed by her boyfriend. He pauses immediately, yet she continues to walk, so he loops his arm through her to pull her back to his side. “What’s wrong?” she questions with a tilt of her head. He points toward the pretzel store, “I’m hungry. Why don’t we get a snack? A cheese one, right?” “You know me so well,” she beams. He chuckles and presses his lips against her temple. He leads her toward the register and orders their salty snack. 

———

It is no secret that Y/N is an avid reader. Her TBR list is in the hundreds and it continues to grow. Rafe’s mission is to make that list dwindle to zero, despite what Y/N might say. Sometimes, he’ll add books to that list by himself. The couple is hanging out in the library. She is studying and he is only there to keep her company. An hour into her studying session he pulls her away from her textbooks and notes to take a break and eat a snack. Her eyes wander while she nibbles on the cheese and crackers he hands to her, landing on a book cover that catches her eyes. The pink-themed watercolour cover features a forest with a rope bridge. It’s beautiful and the title is quite simple. Unravel Me. Rafe sees her attention isn’t on him and follows the gaze to the novel in another person's hands. She moves her eyes back to him, but he still takes note of the title. After the snack, she goes back to studying and he focuses on his phone. He decides to search for the book and finds out it is a hockey romance series. It sounds right up Y/N’s alley, so he orders Topper to go to the store and buy her the full set.

———

The most outrageous example of Rafe being Rafe when it comes to buying Y/N things is when he orders expensive objects for her right on the spot. It is date night and he decides to take her to the new upscale bar that opened up off campus. He pulls her chair out for her, allowing her to hop onto the tall chair. While she tells him about her tests, her eyes are trained on something at the bar. She must really like whatever she is looking at because she stands from the chair and approaches a woman. Rafe is right behind her, resting his hand on the small of Y/N’s back. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but I really like your bag. Where did you get it?” she asks the redhead. The other woman grins and holds her bag up, “Thank you! It’s from Coach. I can’t remember what it’s called though. I’m sorry.” “It’s okay. You gave me enough to go off of. Thank you so much. Have a nice night,” Y/N bids goodbye to her. Throughout the whole interaction, Rafe’s attention is on his phone. They get back to their table and he holds up his screen to her. The Coach website is pulled up on Safari with a picture of a light tan bag that has a dragon on it. Boxed New Year Rogue 25 With Dragon is written above the picture along with the price of $1,090.

“This is the one you want, right?” he confirms. Her eyes widen at the price, “Yes, but I didn’t know it was that expensive. I like it, just not for that price.” He ignores her worries and goes back to typing on his phone. “Look at this one. I’m gonna get it for you too. I think it’s cute,” he tells her, sliding his phone across the table to her. She sees two items in his cart: the dragon purse and the heart bag in regenerative leather. The total amount before tax is $1,490, which is completely outrageous to her. She shakes her head, “You can’t buy these, Rafe. This is way too much.” “Come on, let me get them for you, Angel. You know money is no issue for me,” he pleads, giving her the best puppy eyes he can.

“It’s not an issue for me. What am I going to do with something so luxurious?”

“Look like an absolute queen while you flaunt it around. Show other men that I can provide for you. Hand it over to me while you put your lip gloss on, so you can mark your territory. You deserve this luxury and so many more, Angel.”

“This is really important to you. Isn’t it?”

“Yes, so… what do you say?”

“Fine. You can get them.”

A smirk craves itself onto his face and he puts in his credit card information to finalize the purchase. He shows her the shipping information, “It should be here by next week, Angel.” “Thank you, Rafe. I can’t wait to use them,” she shows her gratitude by giving him a kiss.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

#let me angel #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron series #rafe fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outerbanks #outer banks rafe #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx

[seeingivy]

sweet nothing

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: minor mentions of slut by taylor swift, new year's day by taylor swift, end of beginning by djo, turning page by sleeping at last, sweet nothing by taylor swift, and must be love by laufey

--

It feels like every new piece of information that comes your way is overwhelming as the weeks fly by. And really, that sinking feeling that things are coming to an end only feels deeper, more final as the days dwindle down to the end. 

Jean and Mikasa are getting married in two days. Your last day of filming together as a cast is in three. Lana and Sukuna are having another kid and you’re almost positive that Eren is in love with you. 

You have two weeks together before you part ways. 

Every second that the group of you spent together felt like the moments were only slipping out of your fingers, like you were hopelessly trying to hold onto a needle in a stack of hay. It was almost impulsive the way you were trying to linger around everyone – to memorize every last detail of the memories so that you can’t forget them when they leave. 

Falco and Gabi eat cereal in the morning before they go to set, Levi has a mole near his left eye, Eren loses all of his guitar picks. 

You shuffle through the stack of polaroids in your hand – an endless stack of pictures of Miaksa and Jean – and get more frustrated looking down at the empty page on your notebook. Eren’s handwriting is perfectly lined up at the top, light scribbles of lyrics and words he’s changed for the song you were gifting Jean. 

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

Eren explained that Jean and Mikasa, after getting engaged (for the second time), took a two month trip where they just traveled together. Most of the pictures are from that time period actually – of Jean and Mikasa drunk in random bars, cheesing in front of billowing green hills, or napping on picnic blankets. 

You look up at the two of them, clearly relieving some wedding stress by getting tipsy, and dancing with Falco and Gabi a few feet away. You can’t help but smile as Mikasa teaches Falco how to dance – and how he profusely apologizes every time he steps on her feet. It’s almost as sweet as Gabi and Jean who are trying to do the most aggressive slow dance known to man and that neither of them seem to be taking seriously in the slightest. 

“Who’s getting injured first?” 

You look to your right to find Eren hovering over your shoulder, his hair damp from the shower and the sweet smell of his soap still emanating off of his skin. He gives you a boyish grin before taking the seat next to you on the couch, leaning his chin on your shoulder as you watch the group of them. 

“I’m sure Mikasa needs a bandaid already. Falco has stepped on her feet ten times already.” 

“Poor guy. I’ve never seen him stress out over something so bad.” Eren states. 

“What do you mean?” 

Eren laughs. 

“He’s freaking out about the wedding. He’s really worried that Gabi won’t enjoy it with him as her date – because he can’t dance and that sometimes he can’t think of things to talk about when he gets nervous.” 

You frown. 

“Baby.” 

“Tell me about it. Last night he was in my room asking my opinions on pick up lines and how you even initiate dancing with someone.” Eren states. 

“What did you tell him?” 

“I told him that he should suggest getting matching tattoos. I know girls love that type of thing.” 

You turn your head to glare at him. 

“I know you didn’t encourage my sixteen year old brother to get a tattoo.” 

Eren shrugs. 

“What’s the difference between sixteen and eighteen? He’s a big kid.” 

“He would get a tattoo of a cat jumping on a trampoline if he could. And that’s horrible advice.” 

Eren grins. 

“Worked on you, didn’t it?” 

You shove him in the side, earning you a laugh from him, as he takes the opportunity to peek down at the page – mainly at the fact that you haven't been able to write anything. You sink back into the couch as he offers you a smile, before flipping through the rest of the pages. 

“I have a question.” 

“What is it?”

“Are you ever going to release any of these songs? I really think some of them are great.” 

You lean over his shoulder to follow his line of vision, to all of the songs that you had produced out of the requests that you had been given. You eye the song he’s fixated on – called Slut, that you wrote for Sasha – as you shrug. 

“I do really like some of them.” you offer. 

“I really love this one. I think it’s perfect. And a lot of them are.” Eren adds. 

You lean back on the couch. 

“I know that…things are ending. And I have to think seriously about what I want to do after I leave here but sometimes it gets complicated when I think about it. But I am sure that...that I'll do something. In some capacity.” you state. 

Eren leans back to join you, leaning his damp locks against your shoulder. You mimic his motions, leaning your cheek against his hair and welcoming the cold touch.

“I like being here and…and being here makes the songs and the acting really easy. I feel like I have that support system, of people who care about me, who can kind of help me push through it. The thought of having to figure out things without people helping me when I leave here and…and not having that makes it seem impossible.” you state. 

“You don’t need other people to –” 

“I know I don’t need other people to do this, that I can write songs and act if I need to. But, I need them for me. I’ve spent a lot of time alone and I realized I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be here forever, I’ve…I feel like I barely appreciated the time I had here and now it’s almost over and I can’t do anything about it.” 

It’s horrible timing. That the song in Connie’s playlist switches. 

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before, but 

You both sink deeper into the couch, cheeks pink as the song stops the conversation in full. You can feel that the group of them are all averting their eyes to where you and Eren are sitting, though none of them seem to comment on the fact that your love ballad is booming from the speakers. You turn to Eren and offer him a smile, one that he returns before nervously fiddling with his hair. 

“You still have time left here. You can make the most of it. And even after we leave here, we’re all still backing you up. It might not be all of us all in the same place but…but we’re here when you need us.” Eren states. 

“Yeah. I know that. But it’s just different.”

You pause, unable to put the garbled mess of feelings that’s rumbling in your chest into words. 

Three days ago Levi told you that they were going to put the house up for sale when you were leaving – and the thought of never being able to come back here, that someone else would be sleeping in your room and you’d never be able to return to it made you sick to your stomach. 

You had read the last bits of the script and it was perfect – except for the blank portions that Levi left in one of the sections. He had mentioned that he wanted you and Eren to do something similar to what you were going to do for the “what am I to you scene?” where he was going to ask you to improv whatever he had planned. 

There was a sense of urgency when he mentioned it, because that was actually going to end up being the last scene that you ever filmed. Because Mikasa and Jean were going to get married on Friday, the last day of filming with the entire ensemble was Saturday, and they were all out of there by Sunday night. 

And for the entire week that followed, you, Levi, Hange, and Eren were going to be in the house alone. Hange mentioned it as a sort of gift that Levi wanted to give you – that he wanted to grant the two of you time alone before you parted your separate ways. 

(Apparently he was just sentimental. Or projecting, according to Hange. And part of it was just that he understood because when he had his last weekend of filming La La Land with Hange, he just wanted them all to himself before he had to let them go. That he wanted that for you and Eren or just for himself instead.) 

The thought of being alone with Eren in the house, the way you were when you started filming all those years ago, made your stomach churn with anticipation. Only because you knew – that if something was going to blossom between you and Eren, if you were able to let go of whatever it was that was holding either of you back – it was going to be then. 

Or at the wedding. 

You had visited the venue with Eren a few days prior and the outdoor, woodsy venue that Jean and Mikasa had picked out was eerily similar to where Levi and Hange had their vow renewal. They were leaning into the same energy – of a backyard wedding, with all of their closest friends – and you were half convinced that the setting alone would have you word vomiting everything to Eren. 

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard, or it's wrong, or we're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day 

Eren reaches forward, placing his hand on top of your head, before he slightly rattles your head. 

“Okay, that’s enough being emo for today. Quit being sad and focus on writing the song. Jean is expecting something really great, you know?” 

You groan. 

“Don’t tell me that. I hyped it up so much to him just because he was being annoying but I’m really scared that he won’t like it. Every lyric I write is so ridiculously idiotic that I end up wanting to throw my entire book away.” 

“You’re trying too hard. Just do what feels natural.” 

You’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but right after it does it fills you with a bout of embarrassment. Because if you did what was natural, you’d lean forward and close the space between the two of you, only because you couldn’t help but feel like you were getting intoxicated by how much you wanted him every time you were alone like this. 

But that was just the thing. You weren’t alone. There were at least seven different people in the room. And the fact that it felt so intimate, so bare every time you talked to him like you were the only two people in the room made it impossible to be around him. 

Levi walks into the room with Hange, the two of them juggling cardboard boxes in their hands. Levi nearly drops all of them when Gabi and Jean almost salsa dance straight into him, but luckily enough, Niccolo is able to steer them in a different direction before they can. 

Hange and Levi set the boxes down at the center table, before gesturing for all of you to join them around the table. Eren holds a hand out to you – and it makes your stomach churn when he doesn’t let go as you both walk all the way to the table. 

You can’t help but focus on it. That you’re all circled around the table, that Niccolo is handing Sasha his water bottle, that Falco and Gabi are out of breath, and that Eren has his hand tucked into yours as he intently waits for Levi and Hange to explain. 

“As you guys all know, we’re going to be giving up the house in around a week. I know it feels a little early, but we need to start making preparations since things are going to start wrapping up really fast.” Levi states. 

“And this part is only logical. You guys were the ones who put the polaroids up. It’s only fair that you’re the ones who are going to take them down.” Hange adds. 

You feel your throat dry. 

“What?” Armin asks.  

“We can’t exactly leave them all up. Imagine how horrifying that would be for whoever moved in here after – just thousands of pictures of strangers that they didn’t know.” Levi states. 

“They would be so lucky. We’re literally famous.” Connie huffs. 

“Okay, Connie. Relax. Even then, I figured that you guys would want to keep some as you guys got ready to leave here. We can toss whatever it is you don’t want to keep.” Hange resopnds. 

It just keeps getting worse. You can’t even stomach the fact that they would even consider throwing any of the pictures away, let alone being so ready to pull them all off of their respective spots on the wall. 

“Are you insane? You can’t just throw our childhood away.” Reiner states. 

“Well, you can keep all of the stragglers. Drown in the polaroids in your penthouse apartment, Reiner.” Levi deadpans. 

“Oh, I plan on it.” Reiner responds, glaring at the two of them. 

You can tell that Levi and Hange were well prepared for the pushback. And you understand the frustrations, or at least the panic, everyone seems to be expressing. Armin’s trying to delay whatever this is to the best of his abilities – saying that the wedding pictures would be perfect with all of the polaroids in the background. Reiner said that taking everything down was only fair when Eren got to be a part of the death wall, and Sasha and Mikasa are already fighting over how they’re supposed to divvy up polaroids that we’re all in. 

And you get it, but all it does is fill you with the sinking pit of despair. 

This was the start. Taking all of the pictures down, wrapping your childhood into a little cardboard box and never returning to it again – at least not in the same way. 

The song from the playlist switches, finally mellowing out the ends of your voice, before changing to a different song. 

Levi’s ears immediately perk up at the sound of his own voice, booming through the speakers. 

Just one more tear to cry One teardrop from my eye You better save it for The middle of the night

When things aren't black and white Enter, Troubadour Remember twenty-four?

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

“Who is playing this?” Levi asks. 

“Connie.” Eren offers. 

Levi shakes his head, almost like it’s thrown him a distraction, before he hands each of you the boxes and a marker. You all start begrudgingly inking your name into the cardboard, before halfheartedly clutching it to your chests. A few of them make the first move, until it’s just you and Armin left lingering in the kitchen, unable to move. 

“Jesus fuck, Hange. Why would he play this song?” Levi whispers, stuck in a conversation under his breath with Hange. 

“The timing is uncanny. Don’t go crying on them now.” Hange states. 

The two of them shuffle out of the room as you turn to Armin, noting the warm tears that are filling his eyes, as you offer him one of your hands. He opts to link his hand through yours, as you both task yourself with walking over to the fridge first, as you stare at all six of the polaroids stuck under the magnet. 

“I really don’t want to do this.” Armin whispers. 

“Me neither.” 

He snags the first polaroid off of the fridge, of Erwin wearing a sparkly pink apron with Kiss the Chef embroidered into the front pocket. You distinctly remember when Eren had gifted it to Erwin for his birthday – and how he refused to stand in the kitchen without wearing it, even if he wasn’t cooking anything. 

“This picture doesn’t belong anywhere but here.” Armin states. 

You snort. You can see that Armin hesitates, but he settles for putting it in the box. 

“We’ll make a pile on the main table, of who is in each picture. Then…then people can fight it out for who gets to keep which one.” 

“Good idea.” 

It’s quiet, leave for Levi’s voice booming through the speakers, as you and Armin start yanking the pictures off of the wall. The wallpaper has been fading for years, but it’s only more obvious when you start ripping the pictures out to see the brighter color that was covered underneath. 

Armin stops you every few seconds, only to pull on your arm to show you a picture. It’s quiet smiles that you give each other, when you find one of him and Annie, or he gives you one of Hange, and it makes it the slightest bit easier. 

But some of the memories hit you like a bullet train, only because you can’t fathom how much of them you’ve actually forgotten. You only remembered that Falco and Colt had actually been to set before, years before they were even on the show, when Eren flew them out to surprise you for your birthday. Or that on that same day, Mikasa and Armin were the ones to gift you the first notebook that you had ever scribbled your lyrics in. 

They were so deeply intertwined in the memories – every single one. You suppose that’s probably why it was the hardest to let go, to walk away from all of them and limit them to just being pictures in a box. 

And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning (Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye)

“Armin.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you ever think about that night? In Seattle?” you ask. 

He pauses, abandoning the polaroid fixed in his fingers – of you and Historia cheek to cheek – as he sinks against the wall and sits on the floor. You join him on the ground, looping in your arm through his, as you lean your head against his shoulder. 

“Sometimes.” 

“Me too.” 

“I try to pinpoint moments where it feels like things changed. And there are lots of them, but I do find myself always going back to that one. Things felt so weird and out of line in the months before that, I felt like we were all moving in different directions, and that really solidified it.” Armin states. 

You pause. 

“Yeah, yeah I agree. Sometimes I wish I could go back and change things. But I also don’t.” 

“What do you mean?” Armin asks. 

“My first instinct when Eren and I started fighting was to ask him to tell the truth, to come with us and that we’d fix everything. Knowing what I know now, I wish that I had fought harder – that I trusted my gut more because I could clearly feel that something was wrong. But I also don’t, because sometimes I think the way things played out is how it needed to be, for me to feel how I am right now.” you state. 

“How do you feel now?” 

You pause. 

“I remember when we took Connie home with us and…and he started screaming at us. I felt really hopeless. I feel like watching him act like that, to be struggling so much, really sank me into that pit I was in. But I guess, I don’t know. Maybe I needed to see that and how he is now, to see how Sukuna was and how he is now, and Lana too to know that maybe there’s some way out of it for me too after I leave here.” you state. 

Armin smiles. 

“I’m really happy for Lana and Sukuna.” 

You grin. 

“I’m really happy for Connie too. And Eren and…and us too. So much has happened that I really can't even wrap my mind around everything that has happened, but sometimes all I’m left with is that I feel really grateful that we’re all here right now. Especially you and me. Sometimes I forget that you and I faced the worst of it together and…and that we’re here right now, the way that we are, just kind of…fixes it all in my mind.” 

“I agree. I feel like we saw the worst of it together, maybe acted at our worst together too, but it makes me feel better that we both came out of it the way that we did. I feel like we never learn and even though we burn bridges, we still ended up doing what was right at the end of the day.” Armin adds. 

Armin smiles, as he pushes up off the ground and holds out his hand to you. He pulls you up, averting his eyes to behind you, before you turn to find Annie and Eren standing behind. He gives you a knowing look before he switches places with Eren – and the two of them stalk off together. 

Eren gives you a smile, before aggressively sticking a polaroid in your face. You’re caught off guard by the suddenness, before you focus on the picture. It’s of you and Eren on the last day of filming Season Three – your arms wrapped around his neck as you both smile in the camera. 

“Yours or mine?” he asks. 

“Mine.” 

“Well, you should get a move on. I’ve already stolen whatever pictures there were on the wall near the bay window.” 

“No debate? No negotiating?” you ask. 

“Absolutely not. You snooze, you lose.” 

You and Eren fall into a quiet pace, the same way you were with Armin. It seems like it’s something everyone was adapting, because the house felt quieter as usual as you all pulled the memories off of the walls. 

He’d stop here and there and place a polaroid into the palm of your hand. It was getting almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, making that melancholy that seemed to reside in your chest almost impossible to breathe through. 

It was like watching yourself fall in love with Eren all over again.

Because all you can think about is the fact that you had really liked Eren at that award’s show, that you went on a date before that press event, that filming that scene was really fun because you had spent the entire day together. 

That you used to sleep in the same bed every night, that you made breakfast together every morning, that the safe confines of this little wooden house was the place that you and Eren got to be yourselves, where your love was saved from being touched and garbled by other people. 

“Eren.” 

“Yeah?” 

“What are you going to do with the pictures?” you ask. 

Eren pauses, eyeing the messy mess of pictures in his box, before he looks back up at you. 

“I’m staying at this place by the sea, in Ireland, for a few months after the show ends. It’s my parent’s cabin, but I just want to go there and take a break before I jump into anything again. I’ll put some of the pictures up there.” he states. 

You nod. 

You’re not sure why you ask the question, and it’s almost instant embarrassment when it comes out, but you have to stick with it after you do. 

“Will you tell other girls about who I am?” 

“What?” 

You bite your tongue. 

“I just mean. If people point to the pictures and stuff, you’ll tell them about us, right? All the pretty girls you’re going to take to your fancy cabin?” you joke. 

Eren seems to visibly relax when he figures that this has to be some weird idea of a joke that you’re making. 

“Oh. Yeah, of course. Trust me, when I take my children to that cabin, I’ll make sure they know the entire story before they leave.” 

You smile. 

“And what’s that?” 

“Oh, you know. That it was a moment in time, what you and I had. That people went crazy for it, that…that you and I did too.” Eren states. 

“Who said I went crazy for it?” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“You have not one, but two matching tattoos with me. We’ve written so many songs about each other, that people still listen to.” 

“I was just teasing. Relax.” 

Eren hands you a polaroid – a solo picture that he had taken of you at Hange and Levi’s vow renewal – that you tuck into your box. The walls are bare and empty as you peek your head through the other rooms. And you all group back together in the main room, boxes filled on the ground as you find too many of them locking their limbs together and swaying together in the air. 

You and Eren smile at each other as Reiner catches sight of you and makes a dramatic display of wrapping both of his arms around you. Jean and Mikasa follow next – somehow producing shots for everyone out of thin air. 

The only notable thing that stands out is that Connie’s standing by the far wall, stuck staring at the wallpaper. Normally, you’d expect him to be at the center of this, making some extreme, dramatic speech on top of the table about how we were all going down in history. 

You tangle out of Mikasa’s embrace to walk up next to him, only to feel your stomach churn when you find exactly what it is that Connie’s staring at. Because it’s not a blank patch of wallpaper – but instead, his shitty spelling marked into the wall, accompanied by the one polaroid you had seemingly forgotten all about. 

Of Marco, his tub of ice cream, and his bright smile when you had all inducted him as the start of the death wall. You look to your left to find Connie crying, as you lean your head against his shoulder, unable to stop your own. 

“I can’t take it down. He…he’s going to miss the wedding.” he whispers. 

It makes your stomach ache. That Marco won’t be there to see Jean and Mikasa get married, that he won't be at the wrap party, and that someone will have to come over here and rip him off of the wall for good. 

“I can’t do it either.” 

Eren’s the next to join the two of you, his arms warm around your shoulders, before you feel him physically tense at your side when he realizes. The crowd only seems to get bigger, until the entire group of you are standing there, limbs tangled in together as you all stare at the picture of him.

Levi and Hange, who are the last to join, are the first to break the silence. 

“No one can do it, can they?” Hange asks. 

You all shake your heads. Levi makes his way to the front – and you can’t help but study him as you watch him observe the picture. 

It was no secret to you that Levi had a soft spot for Marco, that it only intensified after he died, and that it was something that Levi was going to beat himself over forever.

You think about it often – that one time that Levi insinuated that what happened could be traced back to him, because Marco’s fame could be traced back to when Levi had cast him in the show. That if Levi didn't make Marco famous, the paparazzi would have called the ambulance instead of prioritizing the photo.

When he reaches for the picture, you realize that you can’t let him do it alone. 

You walk up to his side and pull on his arm. 

“Together.” you state. 

Levi gives you wide eyes, heaving a deep sign out, before he nods. You turn back to the crowd of them standing, as you gesture for them to join. 

You all place your hands on each other, making it literally impossible for you to all stand there as you try to jump and duck under each other to secure your hands on the picture. It’s all giggles because Connie asks Reiner not to touch his butt and they start bickering before you all pull. 

But on the count of three, you all pull it off of the wallpaper, before letting go. It’s left in Levi’s hands at the end of it. 

You all let him keep it. He shoots you a grateful smile for the assistance.

--

The air is palpable the morning of the wedding. You can feel it thrumming under your skin – the anticipation – the second you spring your eyes open. It reminded you of how you used to sleep the night before a field trip, unable to contain your excitement to the point where you were unable to quiet your mind before sleeping. 

You nearly shoot up because of it, unable to stop staring at Mikasa at your side. Her hair is tousled around the pillow, the sleep mask that she put on last night sticking to the side of her face, and she’s snoring horrendously loud. 

In your excitement, you lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Jean?” 

You snort. 

“No. Don’t insult me in the early hours of the morning.” you state. 

Your voice is enough to wake Mikasa up, and similarly enough to you, she shoots up the second she’s regained consciousness. The green mask is falling off the right side of her face and her eyes are so horrendously wide that she almost looks like an alien. 

“Holy shit. “

“What?” 

“I’m getting married today.” 

You can’t help but smile from ear to ear as you wrap your arms around her neck and squeeze hard. It’s a mix of giggles, of the two of you squealing like you were fifteen again, and of you and Mikasa tickling each other in your hug.

The morning goes by relatively slowly. 

Whatever that feeling is, the warm, sweetness in the air – it’s hanging in the air. The group of you are all holed up in Mikasa’s room – Gabi, Falco, Connie, Historia, Armin, and Sasha. The rest of them were all stuck with Jean. You can already anticipate that there’s more panic and high energy in that room just from the sheer fact of Ymir being stuck with Reiner, Eren, and Jean in there alone. 

You were all in charge of getting Mikasa ready, of getting dressed yourselves, and getting her to the venue. They had to do the same with Jean – but you and Eren had to be there before to pass out the corsages and pin the boutonnieres. 

There was a slight panic in the background, but the calmness was making it taper into almost nothing. And really, the entire ordeal felt so homey, so ordinary that you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling as you all went about it, because you had been thinking – planning for it – for so long. 

Connie and Sasha tasked themselves with making iced coffee, Falco and Gabi had spent twenty minutes tracking down the Doordash order with the breakfast, and you were left alone to do Mikasa’s hair. 

It was just the two of you, humming in the bathroom to the quiet little playlist Jean had sent Mikasa as a gift this morning, as you quietly tasked yourself with doing her hair. It was relatively simple, just two braids at the front to tuck behind her ears, with little flowers intertwined in between. The veil was going to take up most of the space in the back, so you were just curling the ends for her. 

It’s quiet until you can hear her sniffling, only to look up in the mirror to her trying to blot her tears away from her eyes. You try to focus on the song that’s playing – only to find that Jean had put invisible string in the playlist – and you can’t help but smile. You pause, placing your hands on her shoulders as you squeeze hard. 

“Oh god. Are you getting cold feet because he’s ugly?” you joke. 

She glares at you. 

“Fuck off.” 

You laugh before tucking wrapping your arms around her waist and leaning your chin on her shoulder. She gives you a smile in the mirror – one that you return – as she finishes wiping her tears away. 

“Now really. What is it? You can’t be sad on your wedding day or else I’ve failed as a maid of honor.” 

She shakes her head. 

“Not sad. Just…I don’t know. I was reflecting. Feeling really introspective about a lot of things and I realized that there was a point that I thought this would never happen for me. And god, I’m so fucking happy it is.” Mikasa states. 

“This meaning…?” 

“You. Braiding my hair for my wedding. Jean. Actually marrying me after everything that happened. Getting to leave here with him.” 

You swallow hard. She turns around, placing her hands on your shoulder. You distract yourself by messing with how the ends of her bangs were falling, brushing them into place before you give her a smile. 

“Thanks for coming back. I would never want to do this without you.” she states. 

“Thanks for letting me. It would be agonizing to watch this from the sidelines.” 

She leans forward and hugs you, so hard that she’s leaning her entire weight on you. And every inclination that you made of letting go gets ignored, because Mikasa holds on to you for a long time. 

“You’re my best friend.” she mumbles. 

You can feel the tears accumulating in your own eyes, the sniffling coming from your nose this time, as you hear Mikasa spare a quiet laugh. 

“Seriously?” 

“I just started getting all fucking…introspective like you were. I’ve spent my entire life here, my entire childhood sleeping next to you and when I wasn’t, it was because Jean was in here. And now you’re getting married to him and I’m going to be right next to you when it happens, and I just…” 

You pause. 

“I don’t remember when we grew up. I’m glad I got to do it with the both of you.” you finish.

You try to etch it into your memory – this moment – so you can remember it forever. The two of you in your pajamas, barefoot on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, breathing in tandem as you held each other while crying. 

She was hours away from being a wife. You were about to watch Jean and Mikasa get the perfect ending, that the nights that they spent together in your room all led to the two of them standing on that altar, exchanging vows. You would be two feet away from Eren, who was going to smile at you with his perfect green eyes and make your stomach do a somersault. 

You were going to hold hands, he was going to dance with you, and that might be the end of it. Or the start, if you’re both able to muster and get over that block that was always stuck in your throats. 

Connie and Sasha return with the coffee soon enough and Falco and Gabi with the food. You all sit in a circle, sharing bites and switching drinks, until Sasha locks herself and Mikasa in the bathroom to do her makeup and fit her into her dress. 

You take the free second to sit at the vanity, using the sweet free time to style Falco’s hair for him before you do your own makeup. You can see Connie brushing Gabi’s hair through the mirror, intently focused as he holds the bobbi pins in between his lips, and gathers her hair together at the back of her neck. You can’t help but smile as you focus back on Falco, trying to tame the unruliness of his hair with the mousse. 

“Be careful with Eren’s cufflinks today, Falco. He’s expecting those back.” you state. 

“No, he isn’t. He gave them to me earlier and he actually said that he wants me to keep them.” 

It makes your heart sink a little – only because you don’t know what it means. If he was giving it up to Falco out of good will because he was your little brother and he loved him or because he wanted to get them straight off of his hands since you two were going to be leaving and parting ways soon. 

“Well, be careful. They’re very nice. And they’re special too, so just. Take care.” you state. 

Falco frowns at you through the mirror, before turning back to look at you. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” 

“You seem sad.” 

“No. I just feel really sentimental. My best friend is getting married and we…we’re all going to be leaving soon. I’m watching two people who have been in love forever seal the deal before I won’t ever live with them ever again.” 

Falco frowns, before he reaches forward and wraps his arms around you. You can’t help but smile as you bury your nose into his shirt, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and laundry detergent mixed together. 

“You’ll have a lot of fun today. You’ll have Eren with you. And you’re performing your song, which will be amazing. Levi also told me that you have to save a dance from him and Connie said he’s going to mix drinks after the reception, so you have a lot to look forward to.” 

You glare at him. 

“The only thing you’re mixing is soda, Falco.” 

He gives you a grin. 

“Right!” 

“I’m going to tell mom.” 

He glares. 

“Don’t be a narc. I was trying to be nice to you.” 

“You’re going to get liver disease, Falco.” 

“Gabi and I have never tried it. We just wanted to do it together.” 

You pinch your lips together, before shaking your head. 

“I’ll just pretend like I didn’t hear that.” 

You watch as Falco’s eyes light up, before he presses a wet kiss to your cheek. You push him off, as you finish the last touches on his hair, and lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

Falco runs off, mainly to Gabi’s side as he starts admiring her hair and she does the same to him. And as you quietly start smearing the makeup on your face, Connie takes the seat at your side at the vanity. 

It’s quiet. Mainly because he’s messing with the ends of his own hair and you’re focused on smearing the glitter on your eyelids that you don’t really acknowledge each other. You only break the concentration – and start the conversation – as Connie watches you struggle with your necklace. 

“Yikes. Want help?” 

You smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, thanks.” you state. 

You hand the necklace over to him – and watch the smile spread across his face as he eyes the little Saturn charm – before he signals for you to turn around. The necklace falls perfectly into place before you turn back to him and silently thank him. 

“Eren’s wearing his pin too.” Connie states. 

“He is?” 

“Well, planning on it. I saw him walking around with it downstairs when we were making the coffee.” 

You hum in response, as you place the blush on your cheeks. 

“How did he seem? Is he stressed out?”

“No. He’s pretty zen, considering how batshit he was acting last night when you were running through the checklist.” 

You smile. 

“I just think he’s excited for the wedding. You know how much he loves Jean and Mikasa.” you state. 

Connie smiles at you through the mirror, before leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand. It’s a weirdly antagonistic look that he gives you, that you ignore as you rummage through the colors of your lip glosses and lipsticks to find the perfect one. 

“I know how much he loves you.” 

You give him a weary look. 

“You kissed three times. He smiled into the kiss. You used your tongue. We’re not about to play this shitty game.” Connie states. 

“I didn’t say anything.” you state. 

Connie smiles and really, the fact that he was rooting for the two of you so hard, that he approved, only made your excitement to see him later grow tenfold. 

“So you know that he loves you?” Connie asks. 

You swallow hard, before shaking the thought away. 

“Well, of course he does. We’re good friends.” 

Connie gives you a glare and it makes you fold. 

“Just…don’t tell him, okay?” 

“I won’t. But you…you do know, right?” 

You sigh. 

“Yeah. I’m just stuck on how to tell him, when the right time is, if…if he really wants to. I know that he loves me but that…that doesn’t necessarily mean that he wants to give our relationship another try.” 

Connie frowns. 

“He doesn’t know that’s on the table.” Connie states. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know he loves you. He has no idea that you love him too.” 

“There’s no way. It’s…it’s obvious. I’ve given him so many signs.” 

Connie shrugs. 

“Yeah. But he’s insecure. His mind plays tricks on him…and he won’t believe it unless you tell him, explicitly. Some days he says that he thinks you reciprocate and in the next hour, he’s moping in my room about how he’s lost you forever.” 

You deflate and give him a nod, as you secure your hands around one of your tubes of lipstick. Connie shakes his head, before taking it from you and digging through the little pouch himself. 

“No, you can’t wear that.” Connie states. 

“I didn’t realize you were so opinionated about the makeup I wore.” 

“No. Well, yes. But no, no Eren likes it when you wear glossy stuff on your lips.” 

“Why do you know that?”

“He’s down horrendous.” Connie affirms. 

“I’m not picking my makeup look based off of Eren.” 

Connie pauses and gives you a look. You sigh. 

“Okay, fine. Give it.” 

He gives you a bright smile, before handing it over to you. And you smear it over your lips, before taking the open room on the left so slip in your dress and meet Eren downstairs. 

--

You slip into your dress before you meet Eren downstairs, to make sure that everyone gets tucked into the correct cars, with flowers pinned to their jackets and secured around their wrists. You carry the pair of shoes you had chosen – black kitten heels to save your feet from the walking – as you make your way down the stairs. 

You can already see Eren standing in the kitchen, placing the boxes in a line, as you feel the nervousness prickle all over your skin. His hair is pushed back, tucked behind his ears. He’s not wearing his jacket yet, the sleeves of his white collared shirt pulled up to his forearms, and he looks perfect. 

You nervously knock on the frame of the door, as you drop your heels to the ground and join him at his side. 

“Hey. Want my help?” you mumble, feeling the shake in your voice. 

Eren’s fumbling with the plastic box in his hands, his throat bobbing, as he doesn’t respond, until it’s awkwardly been too long. And it’s almost like he’s realized it – that he was staring full on, that he had ignored what you had said – as he shakes his head before looking up at you. 

“Did-did you say something to me?” 

You can’t help but laugh, as you nervously rub at the sides of your biceps. 

“Yeah. I was asking if you wanted help.” 

“Right. Yeah, yeah. I was just making sure that the boxes had everyone’s names on it.” Eren adds. 

You hum in response, as you join him at his side, and eye the little list that he had set in the middle of the counter. You start to eye the little labels, leaving little star marks next to each one you found on the paper, as you try to distract yourself and the burning in the pit of your stomach. 

“You look beautiful.” 

You feel your eyes widen. 

“Huh?”

“I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful, but you…” 

Eren lifts his gaze from the plastic boxes, as he looks over at you, eyes striking and piercing. It sends a shiver down your spine. He places both of his hands on your elbows and you mimic the motion by resting yours against your forearms as you look up at him. 

You watch as his eyes waver – first to your lips, before they drop down to your necklace. He reaches up, twisting the little Saturn charm in between his fingers, before he smiles up at you. 

“Mine is on my jacket.” 

You smile. 

“He has to be there some way, right?” 

He sighs. 

“Yeah.” 

“Speaking of…” 

He looks around the little plastic boxes, before he reaches for one that has your name scribbled over the top. You reach for it, before he pulls back, giving you an offended look. 

“Are you insane?” he asks. 

“What? That’s literally mine.” 

“What kind of guy do you think I am? You’re my date, I obviously have to put it on for you.” Eren states. 

“Oh.” 

Eren smiles.

“Yeah. Oh.” 

Eren opens up the little plastic box, pulling out the little corsage, before fidgeting with the little flowers until they fall perfectly. You hold out your left hand to him and he slides the little ribbon across your wrist, until it’s set in place. 

He lifts your hand and presses your knuckles against his lips, leaving a quiet kiss on your ring finger. It makes your chest burn. 

“Perfect.” he whispers. 

You swallow hard, trying to swallow the dryness in your throat, as you look up at him. 

“Can I do yours?” 

“I don’t have a corsage, sweetheart. Such a shame.” 

You shove him. 

“You know what I meant.” 

He smiles, as he reaches for his coat hanging from the chair. You find the box with his name on it as he pulls his jacket on, adjusting it. You take the little silver pins and the boutonniere as you press it to the lapel. And it’s going well until you poke a little too hard, in the wrong direction. 

“Ow.” 

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Eren.” 

You can feel your hands shaking as you try to pin it properly this time, which only gets worse when you can feel that Eren’s watching you – and that he’s amused by how hard you’re trying not to stab him with the pins. 

“That didn’t actually hurt, Y/N.” 

You place the last pin before you unclench and look back up at him. You take the second to admire the little purple flowers on his coat, before smiling up at him. 

“Perfect!” 

Eren smirks, before he leans forward. He’s so close that you can feel the breath tickling your nose when he talks and the mint in his breath. 

“No kiss for me?” 

“Huh? Did…did you want one?” 

“It’s hardly satisfying when you have to ask for it. You have to offer it to me.” Eren states. 

And you were about to, but that’s right when Jean and Niccolo come tumbling down the stairs, readjusting their collars. You can hear the cars pulling up against the gravel outdoors, as Eren hands both of them their boutonnieres, and they run out the door. 

Everyone tumbles through like a stampede – as you get stuck handing all of them the boxes and get too distracted to hand them all out. You feel your heart burst when Historia realizes that she gets two corsages – since Reiner and Connie are both her dates – and the dramatic display that they both make of kissing her hand and her cheeks when they put them on her has you giggling. 

Levi and Hange are the last ones to leave, until it’s just you and Eren standing in the kitchen, facing each other. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah. Just have to put my shoes on.” 

Eren gives you a nod, before grabbing them from the side and getting on his knees. His arms move around your leg, exposed from the slit in the side of your dress as he secures the buckles around your ankles. 

“Too tight?” 

You clear your throat. 

He has to know what he’s doing to you. That he can’t just place his head in between your legs like that. 

“No. That’s good.” 

He mimics the motion with the other shoe, fingers featherlike around your ankle, before he looks back up at you. And he holds his hand out to you, circling it around yours as the two of you walk out onto the gravel towards the car. 

--

The four of you are lined up inside, peeking out the window, at Jean standing alone at the altar. You can see groups of people running around the little makeshift aisles – Hange and Levi sharing a drink, Lana with a little baby bump and Teddy tangled around her knees, and Sofia and Ymir admiring the flowers around the aisle. 

“Lana and Sukuna are here. I can’t believe she’s showing already.” you whisper to Eren. 

You watch as Eren’s eyes scan the room, before he catches the sight of the three of them on the left and smiles. 

“Look at Teddy’s suit. He’s fucking adorable.” 

“Sofia and Ymir look fucking amazing.” Connie adds. 

“And Niccolo!” Sasha adds. 

The three of you turn your gaze to her, giving her a side eye, before you all burst out laughing. In the time that you have to wait for Mikasa, Connie somehow produces two popsicles from the little truck outside, one that he hands to you and Eren and the other that he shares with Sasha. 

You consider yourself lucky that Connie chose the blue one for himself and gave you and Eren the lemon, which had a translucent color. Connie later realizes his mistake when his tongue turns blue. 

You look up at Eren, whose eyes are still transfixed at the people lingering around outside. 

“You don’t want any, Eren?” 

He looks over at you, and down at the popsicle, before he wraps his arm around your wrists and uses it to lift the popsicle to his mouth. He takes one bite and gives you a smile, before dropping his featherlike touch from your hand and looking back outside. 

You can’t help but use your other hand to rub the inside of your forearm, where his fingers had just touched yours. 

And you watch everyone with him, the two of you silently standing at the window. Levi keeps getting Hange refills and Reiner and Historia go in the photo booth. Sukuna basically guards Lana like a dog – refusing to leave her side, leaning down every few minutes to whisper in her ear, with what you know is constant questioning of if she’s comfortable or not. 

Connie and Sasha yank on your elbows. The two of you turn your heads only to fall silent at the sight of Mikasa, excitedly smiling at you in her pristine and perfect white dress. 

“Ready to get me married, guys?” she whispers. 

You feel your heart squelch in your chest as you reach forward at the same time as Sasha, the two of you stuck in each of her arms and the fresh scent of her bouquet filling your nose. You can’t help but admire her – the shimmering glitter on her skin, the sparkling accents on her dress, and the veil flowing behind her. 

It’s perfect. 

She lets the two of you go before she gives Connie and Eren a shy smile, and they both rise to the occasion. They make a dramatic display of clutching their chests and it makes your heart sing as you watch Mikasa smile at the praise, at the two of them making it evidently clear that she’s one of the most beautiful things she’s ever seen. Connie and Eren both lean down to press a kiss to Mikasa’s cheeks, before you all line up, standing side by side. 

Connie and Sasha stand in front, followed by you and Eren, and then Mikasa alone. You turn to Eren and he offers you a wink, as you feel your nerves bubble as the entrance song stars. 

You can see it from the window – Levi seated at the piano with the microphone in front of him. And on his cue, Sasha and Connie walk out first together. 

I've waited a hundred years But I'd wait a million more for you Nothing prepared me for What the privilege of being yours would do

Eren extends his hand out to you and you wrap yours in with his, as you both walk out into the courtyard. The air is fresh, the sun is dipping into the sunset and making a perfect mix of purple and pink hues, as the little lights hanging from the trees start twinkling. 

You can’t help but squeeze hard on the bouquet as you walk down, nerves tingling. It’s warm in the little courtyard, but only because of how the blood rushes to your cheeks – it nearly hurts to smile this hard. 

You offer Sukuna a wink as you walk past, before you and Eren let each other go at the end of the aisle. You and Eren stop before Jean, before leaning forward to give him a hug. You press a kiss to his cheek, which he smiles brightly at, before you and Eren take your spots opposite to each other at his side. 

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch If I had only seen how you smile when you blush Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough

I would have known what I was living for all along What I've been living for

Levi’s voice is piercing, so warm and full that it makes the tears spark to your eyes. And when everyone rises out of their chairs and Mikasa steps out into the light, you instantly turn your head to the left to look at Jean. 

And surely enough, Jean’s hands are shaking at his sides as the tears start to sprout out of his eyes – as he looks at her glide down and doesn’t break his eye contact once. It’s full blown tears, from both of them, and Mikasa’s basically rushing down the aisle just to get there faster. 

You look past Jean to find Eren watching the two of them, with the brightest smile on his face. 

Your love is my turning page Where only the sweetest words remain Every kiss is a cursive line Every touch is a redefining phrase

When Mikasa makes it to the end, Jean reaches for her hand and pulls her up. You take the little bouquet from her hands, and she gives you a wink in response, before turning back to Jean and locking her hands in with his. 

I surrender who I've been for who you are For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart If I had only felt how it feels to be yours Well, I would have known what I've been living for all along What I've been living for

Levi finishes the end of his song with a dancing melody on the piano, before everyone takes a seat and they start the ceremony. 

You and Eren stare at each other the entire time. 

--

The reception afterwards is cast in silver moonlight. There’s a live jazz band, a little dance floor, and obviously an open bar. It’s a rush to make sure that Mikasa and Jean aren’t entirely shit faced by the time you’re able to perform your song and keeping them away from the bar before that happens turns out to be a horrendous task. 

But surely enough, you and Eren are standing by the piano as you wait for Levi to announce the first dance. You turn to Eren, looking up at him, as you watch Levi make his way over to the microphone. 

“Nervous?” 

Eren shakes his head. 

“Have you with me. We’ll be fine.” 

You give him a nod as you absentmindedly tangle your hand in with his at your sides, that he welcomes. And when Levi announces that it’s time for the first dance, Mikasa and Jean make their way to the center of the dance floor, the two of them blowing you a kiss as you take your seat at the piano. 

The second they look away, too entranced with looking at each other, Eren slides into the bench at your side and the two of you start playing the piano together. It’s only when Eren starts singing the first verse that they look back, at the two of you sitting there together. 

Eren:  I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

You look up from the piano keys to find Jean looking at you – smiling so brightly as the tears stream from his eyes – with Mikasa in his hands. You give him a wink, as you watch him turn his head away, his tears only increasing when he looks down at Mikasa. 

Eren and Y/N:  They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

Y/N:  On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

You can’t help but turn to your left to look at Eren, only to find that he’s already looking at you first. He tangles his foot in with yours under the piano as your fingers brush against each other and you can feel it – the softness enveloping you and Eren, that the feeling of being around him makes your skin tickle whenever he looks at you. 

Y/N:  Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

You and Eren turn your heads back to the dance floor to watch as everyone joins Jean and Mikasa on the dance floor, hands locked together as they all smile at each other. Connie, Reiner, and Historia are trying some weird three way version of slow dance that has all of them laughing, and Hange and Levi are stuck in some deep conversation that they are whispering in each other’s ears. 

Falco and Gabi are so tense that it almost looks painful, but the smiles on their faces don’t indicate that they’re aware of how rigid they’re both being. And Ymir presses a kiss to Sofia’s cheek, which makes her laugh. 

Eren and Y/N:  They said the end is coming (they said the end is coming) Everyone's up to something (everyone's up to something) I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving (outside, they're push and shoving) You're in the kitchen humming (you're in the kitchen humming) All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

You and Eren turn to your left to give the jazz band a thumbs up, as they take over on the music and start playing soft violin music so everyone can keep going. And you turn back to your right towards Eren and lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck. 

And when you pull back, you secure one of his hands around his cheek and absentmindedly rub your thumb against his bottom lip. 

“Think it went well?” Eren whispers. 

You shrug. Eren smiles back, before mimicking your shrug in response. 

You can feel the breath leave your lungs as you feel a pair of two arms around you, only to find Jean and Mikasa strangling you and Eren from behind the piano. The two of you stand up, to hug the two of them openly, as they smile down at you. Mikasa seems to break off to talk to Eren, because Jean pulls you to the side. 

“Y/N.” 

“Just to be clear, that was your gift. And if you hate it, that’s too bad because I –” 

You’re cut off by Jean pressing a kiss to your cheek, before he envelopes you in a hug so hard that you can barely breathe. Jean lets go after a few minutes, his hand warm on your face as he smiles down at you. 

“I loved it. That was the song of my dreams.” 

You can’t help but grin at him. 

“You deserve nothing less, Jean. I…I’m really happy for you. Just take care of my girl, okay?” 

“That’s a promise.” he affirms. 

You’re joined by Eren and Mikasa at your sides and you can tell from the pink mark on Eren’s cheek that Mikasa was feeling just as sappy as Jean was. You reach forward and wipe the mark away from his cheek, as you look at the two of them. 

“I owe Mika a dance and then Gabi. I’m all yours after that, Y/N.” Eren says. 

You smile, before you wave him off. 

“Go ahead.” 

You take your seat back at the piano bench, as you collect the sheet music and the lyrics and tuck them into the little cabinet of the piano. You sit there for some time – watching Eren and Mikasa giggle on the dance floor before he switches with Gabi who can’t stop blushing. 

That’s until you’re joined by Levi at your side, who offers you a flute of champagne. You take it from him, as you tuck your arm into his, leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“Your song was beautiful, Levi.” you murmur. 

“Yours was too.” he responds. 

You both watch the room in silence for some time, at how animated and lively it all was. Teddy was falling asleep against Sukuna’s shoulder, but him and Lana were caught in a deep conversation – soft smiles on both of their faces as they talked under their breaths at their table. 

“I want to talk to you about something.” Levi states. 

“Go ahead.” 

Levi clears his throat. 

“I…I hear that my vow renewal all those years ago meant a lot to you. Eren and I were talking about it.” 

“Oh. Yeah, what about it?” 

“I want to know what it meant.” Levi clarifies. 

You lean back as you think about it – about the love in the room – and turn back to him. 

“That night was the first time that Eren and I said we loved each other. That…that was the last time before things went so horribly wrong. Because we sat on the bench and talked about the love in the room, about how it was between us.” 

You can feel your throat drying. 

“After that, I got so busy. I started working too hard. He got stuck on Satellite Port, he…he was around people we hated and there were just so many things that came between us. I let go but then he did too. I had him for a second and then he was gone for good.” 

You look back out at him, posing for a picture with Gabi encased in his arms. 

“I saw you and Hange that day and all I could think about was how in love you guys were. About how I knew love was real, because you guys had it. That…that was what I was going to strive for, what I still do strive for at the end of the day. You guys are perfect, you’re THE love story for me and…you always have been.” 

Levi sighs. 

“Can I say one thing to you?” Levi asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“You have a tendency to not see things as they are sometimes. Like Danny and Sareen taking advantage, like Eren saying it was okay when you let him go, and believing him when he said what he did.” 

You tilt your head to the side, in confusion. 

“Hange and I are far from perfect. I’ll tell you now, very clearly. Hange and I did a vow renewal because we needed one. Not because it was romantic and we wanted to do it again.” 

“What?” 

“We wouldn’t be together if we didn’t do it. And our relationship reached that point, where…where we needed to affirm it again. That we loved each other, that we were committed, that we were what was most important.” 

You sit back, dumbfounded. 

Levi and Hange were in love. They had always been in love. 

“I don’t get it.” 

Levi smiles. 

“What I mean by this is that…these things are normal in love. The initial attraction doesn’t keep you going. You have to pick each other, you have to be on the same side. It’s far more intentional, less cosmic as you think.” Levi states. 

You follow his gaze to Jean and Mikasa, clearly obscenely drunk out of their minds, eating their wedding cake. 

“They’re just as perfect as me and Hange are. It’s a fucking testament to them that they’re sitting here married after what happened with them. And it should be proof to you that what happened with you and Eren won’t hold you back, that…that it’ll really benefit you when it comes to it.  You’ve already gotten past the hard part, you just need to leap now.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Are you shattering my entire worldview by telling me the truth about your vow renewal so I’ll date Eren?”

“Yeah.” 

“Figures.” 

Levi looks over at you, hands warm on your shoulders. 

“Your mistake wasn’t picking him. His was not picking you when it came to it later, not in the way that mattered anyway. Now, fix it. Pick him now.” 

Levi abruptly stops when Eren’s standing at your side, tie loosened around his neck as he gives you a cheesy smile. 

“Ready for me?” Eren asks. 

Levi gives you a narrowed look, which you ignore as you nod and stand up at his side. Eren leads you to the center of the dance floor, securing his hands around your waist as you tangle your own around his neck. 

You and Eren sway to the violin in the background, the two of you quietly observing each other as you walk in step. 

“I’m sorry I took so long. I danced with Mikasa and then Gabi. Lana and Sukuna stopped to talk to me and I just got side tracked.” 

You shake your head. 

“No, no. I…it’s okay. I was with Levi.” 

Eren smiles. 

“I…I’m glad you’re here with me now.” he whispers. 

“Me too.” you whisper back. 

The live singer, a small gift that Levi and Hange had planned for Mikasa and Jean, arrives right at the start of your little dance, and her voice so soft and melodic that you can’t help but pull yourself closer to Eren as she sings, until your ear is muffled against his coat, barely catching the ends of his heartbeat. 

Time's moving so much slower lately It's like the world's playin' a joke Laughing at me for falling foolishly again But something's different with you

Traffic on Sunset doesn't phase me I'm just unusually composed That is until I touch you and I can't pretend I lose myself again, I do

I'm all in, I'm fallin' Can't get back up Can't think right, too tongue-tied It must be love

“Eren?” 

“Yeah?” 

“What are you thinking about?” 

He pulls you apart a little, until you’re standing properly and looking up at him. The violin’s are sending goosebumps down your arms as he looks down at you, pointer finger hooked under your chin as he guides you to look up at him. 

“That someone heard my prayers.” 

You smile. 

“Really?” 

He nods. 

“Armin and I used a whoopie cushion on Connie earlier. Gabi gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and Teddy fell asleep in my lap earlier. Jean and Mikasa are getting married and I’m here with you. There was a point where thinking I’d ever end up here seemed unfathomable to me.” 

“You and Armin are so immature.” you state. 

Eren shrugs. 

“It keeps me young,” he jokes. 

Friends asking me where I've been hiding I'm losin' hours in your eyes Lost in your wonderland, I hope I'm never found There's no one else around, tonight

I'm not so used to being happy Now I just float down every street You made a sappy, stupid something out of me The kind I swore I'd never be I'm awake inside a dream

“I have…I have a lot I want to talk to you about, Eren. So…so much I want to say.” 

Eren’s eyes widen. 

“My time is always yours. What did you want to say?” 

“It’s so many things. And I want to say it right. There’s…there’s so much going on and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and I don’t want to scare you off because you and I are just doing good again and I don’t think that –” 

Eren narrows his eyes. 

“Why are you so tense? There’s nothing you could say that would hurt my feelings. It’s just me.” 

You frown. 

“That’s the problem. It’s just you.” 

You feel a tapping on your shoulder, only to find Jean and Mikasa standing by your side, with two glasses in their hands. 

“Are we interrupting something?” Jean asks. 

You groan. 

“No. What’s up?” 

“We have one last request.” Mikasa states. 

“What is it?” Eren asks. 

The two of them give each other an excited smile – cheeks glazed pink – before they turn back to you. 

“You have to let loose and drink.” they state, pushing the glasses into your hands. 

You both give each other a pinched look, before turning back to them. 

“We don’t drink. It makes me sleepy. And he doesn’t like the taste.” you state. 

“We’re not going to force you. But really, you put so much time into the wedding. We just want you guys to have fun…loosen up a little bit.” Mikasa states. 

The two of them giggle as they walk away, leaving the two of you in the center of the dance floor, nursing the glasses in your hands. You look up at him, entirely lost from your train of thought, as he eyes the liquid. 

“Do you want to?” Eren asks. 

“I don’t know. Do you want to?” 

“It’s been a while since I’ve drank. And really, I only choose not to drink because I always seem to be around people that I’d feel uncomfortable losing my inhibitions around. But it’s just you and me and you’re basically one of the only people I could drink around. I don’t think a little wouldn’t hurt, I guess.” 

You nod, following his lead. Your moment to say your piece had passed already. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah.” 

You both lift the glasses to your lips and sip. 

--

Eren has to carry you back into the house. Because true to your previous statement, wine did make you really sleepy – and two bottles of it has you curled up into his lap in the back of the car. 

Eren can feel his heart beating fast, the sensation blooming in his chest as he tries to steady his breaths. He absentmindedly runs his hands through your hair, running his finger over the sole braid tucked behind your ear. 

He doesn’t think about it very well, but he leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. Eren figures that he must have leaned too close because it has you rousing from your sleep, only nuzzling into his chest even more. 

“Are we home yet, Eren?” 

He can feel his chest tightening. 

“No, sweetheart. Almost, okay?” 

“Okay. Okay, just take me in with you, alright?” you mumble. 

Eren saves his retort about how he’d never leave you behind for when you’re awake, just so he could make sure that you’d actually remember it. And five minutes later, he’s left standing on the gravel with you, as you lean almost all of your weight into his side. 

Every move he makes has you losing your balance, almost toppling to the ground. 

“Hey. Can you lock your arms around my neck?” 

You give him a halfhearted mumble before following his instructions, only to feel him hook his arms underneath your legs and shakily walk you towards the door. You can tell that he’s stumbling a little bit – not walking straight as he almost backs up into the wall as he walks in. 

The two of you must have had too much to drink. Because as Eren walks straight up the stairs, he aims so horribly that he smacks your head straight into the wall and curses after the fact. 

“Eren.” you hiss. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see the wall.” 

You groan in response. 

“Look out for it next time.” 

Eren scathes his way to the hallway to his room, which he kicks open before leading you in. You all but collapse on his bed face first as he leans against the wall – groaning from how dizzy he was getting. Luckily for him, he had thought ahead to lay out clothes for himself – and that he overthought so much that there was a second pair too. 

Eren walks over to the bed, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as he shakes. 

“Y/N.” 

No response. 

“Y/N. You can’t sleep in your pretty dress.” he whispers. 

“Tired.” you respond, voice mumbled. 

“Here. I’ll help you change, just work with me.” 

Eren holds one of his hands out to you, which you take. He uses it to pull you up until you’re leaning against him, head lolled against his shoulder and his hands on your waist stabilizing you. Eren secures his hand around your face and you lean into the touch as he looks down at you, eyes side. 

“Work with me here.” Eren whispers. 

“Okay.” 

“I’m going to help you with the zipper on your dress. Just slide the shirt that I left on the side, I-I’ll close my eyes.” 

You shrug. 

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to close your eyes.” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know. Is that weird? It…it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. And…and I’m not…I don’t know what I’m saying.” 

Eren gives you a nod before he guides you to turn around, fixing his shaking hands on the zipper as he starts pulling it down. Eren can feel his breath hitch in his throat as he turns his head away, trying to banish the thought of the fabric pooling at your legs on the floor, at the small dip in your back that he always seemed to think about. 

He can feel you tugging at his arm and he turns back to find you drowning in one of his old t-shirts, as you look up at him. 

“Are you cold? I have pants you can wear or…or an extra blanket and I –” 

“No. No, it’s okay.” 

Eren didn’t really ask for the help, maybe because he was a little bit more awake than you, but he doesn’t stop you when you reach forward and start unbuttoning his shirt. Eren can tell that it’s more difficult for you than it would have been for him, but he doesn’t have it in his heart to stop you. 

Eren pulls the shirt off and discards it to the side, before turning around to unbutton his pants and switch into his boxers. 

“You…you don’t have to wear a shirt. If you still don’t.” you state. 

Eren can feel his cheeks burning. 

“You sure?”

“I actually don't want you to. That’s why I mentioned that.” 

You’re definitely drunk, Eren thinks. 

“And why’s that?” 

“I like feeling close to you. There’s nothing between my ear and your heart when I lean against you.” you mumble. 

Eren can feel his heart constrict – even more than it was before – when you look up at him now, the glitter smeared around your eyes. And he’s not sure what it is, but there’s tears accumulating in your eyes, replacing the sweetness in his chest with concern. 

“Eren.” you whimper. 

“What? What is it?” 

You swallow hard. You lean your hands against his chest, before pressing your cheek to his chest. 

“I love you so much.” 

Eren frowns, before leaning his chin against the top of your head. 

“That’s nothing to cry about, princess. I love you too.” 

You shake your head, bringing your hands up to your cheeks as you squeeze hard on the skin. 

“No. No, I love you, Eren.” you whisper. 

“Y/N. You…you’re drunk.” 

You frown. 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“I do. But I…I don’t know if it’s because you’re drunk. You might change your mind in the morning.” Eren states. 

You shake your head.

“Eren. Eren, you’re everything to me.” 

You look up at him, reaching to tuck the ends of his hair behind his ear, as you feel your voice shake. 

“I saw Mikasa and Jean and I just…I just knew more than I already did before that I want it to be me and you. I want us to write songs together, I want to wake up next to you, I want to give you haircuts in our bathtub.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Haircuts?” 

“I love your hair short. Just a little bit shorter than it is now, because…because it looks like your hair when I fell in love with you. I’ve been falling since then and I just need you to crawl down into this hole and be here with me, Eren.” you mumble. 

Eren sighs. 

“I’d do anything you asked me to. But, but I need you to say it to me tomorrow, when…when you’re being serious.” 

“I am serious. Eren, there’s no love in the room if you aren’t in it with me.” 

Eren has no words. He has to stumble something out – something because you’re looking at him so expectantly with your doe eyes like you’re waiting for him to give in. 

“Still.” 

You nod, as you stand on the tips of your toes to tuck yourself into the neck. 

“Can you give me one thing, Eren?” 

“What?” 

“Will you kiss me? Just once?” you ask. 

Eren pulls back, eyes weary as he looks down at you. 

“I don’t want to take advantage of you. You, you’re…” 

“I want to kiss you. I messed up our second kiss while we were filming because I wanted to kiss you so bad I forgot we were working. I think about it all the time. I want it so bad and I just –” 

Eren leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. You can still taste the remnants of the wine on his lips and he’s breathing shakily into your mouth as he cradles your face in his hands. 

You can feel your heart somersault when he smiles into the kiss, when he presses two, three, and four more to the side of your face. You drop your hands from his neck to his back, the raised skin of the scars on his back underneath your fingers as he presses kisses down your neck. 

“Eren.” 

“Sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Too much. We have to go to bed because you’re drunk and I…I can’t do this if you’re drunk and I am too and it…” 

You nod. 

“You’re right. Just…just let me sleep here with you?” you ask. 

“Come on.” 

Eren walks around to the other side of the bed, not without walking straight into the wall first, before he climbs under the sheets with you. And it’s the last thing he remembers before he goes to sleep – you wrapping your leg around him and pressing a kiss right on top of his heart before he goes to bed. 

--

When you wake up in the morning, Eren’s spot in the bed is empty. And you only see him an hour later, when you’re able to reel from what happened last night and see him in the kitchen. 

There’s ten different people milling around the kitchen. Erwin and Historia, Connie and Falco throwing a football, and Sasha taste testing Niccolo’s coffee. But all you see when you walk in is Eren, who just gives you a small wave. 

You feel the rejection sting as you offer it back and take the spot next to him. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” 

“Happy last day of filming. Well, not for us, but…you..you know what I meant.” he states. 

You feel your heart drop. He doesn’t remember last night. 

“You too, Eren.”

--

an: oh ladies and gentleman are we ready. ARE WE READY BC CONFESSION NEXT CHAPTER AND IM SO FRRRR. not proofread maybe ill do it tomorrow if I feel strongly enough about it.

also taylor as gojo, bsfs older brother sukuna, and method acting in three days. aka. I CRY A LOT BUT I AM SO PRODUCTIVEEEE ITS AN ART (no I don't I just though this joke was funny)

alsOOOO as I wrap things up I remember someone mentioned wanting some MA chapters from eren's perspective but I can't for the life of me think about which one's would be good for that. the main one that comes to mind is when y/n gets stranded and eren comes to her rescue with ricky LOL. anyways im open to ideas.

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @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 l @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami i @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 angst #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 x fluff #snk #snk x you #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk fluff

[chipsinsalsa]

Bakers Boy

Peeta x FemReader

Plot: What happens when you decide to go into the Bakery shop of the boy you have a crush on?

A/N: I’m sorry if a lot of it is in accurate or if the fanfic is not that good and has typos. First time on tumblr! And I also haven’t written anything in a while but if you guys like it my requests are open! 🤘

contains: smut, praise (reader receiving),fem reader!,character aged up

Truth be told you never even dared to go near the bakery of District 12.

You had always heard stories from the kids at school about the mean old hag that worked there, the baker's wife. And that alone made you avoid it at all costs. But something tempted you to get closer for in that same Bakery, worked the boy you had a crush on. You didn't know his name but something about him made you want to know more.

One day when you had just returned from selling a few of your cheese at the Hob. You walked past the bakery shop as usual and couldn't help but take in the smell of the sweet bread and its irresistible warmth drawing you in. You decided to glance into the window and there the golden locks of the young boy at work captured your eye.

So you decided to go in.

You opened the door to the sound of a bell ringing. Immediately the boy put the doe he was kneading down and turned to face you. He dusted himself off on his apron and headed up to the counter

“Hello Ms what can I get for you today” He spoke. His powdery hands caught your attention, and you couldn't help but imagine how soft they were. How warm they would feel after having been near the oven all day. He noticed you were distracted and waved his hand near your face. “Ms?”

“um- I apologize I must have spaced out, could I just get a loaf of bread” You spoke embarrassed.

The boy smiled kindly and nodded, "Of course, we have a few different types of bread. Would you like a plain white loaf or something with a bit more flavor like our honey wheat or sourdough?"

You considered the options for a moment before deciding. "I think something sweet so the Honey Wheat sounds lovely, what do I owe you?”

The boy quickly wrapped up the bread and handed it to you. "It's on the house"

"Are you sure? I can pay for it." He smiled, "Absolutely. I like to treat our first-time customers to a free loaf of bread. Consider it a welcome gift."

“Oh..thank you” You looked at the nametag on his apron “Peeta”

“Of course, what's your name?” He asked curiously.

“y/n” It took a moment but a confused look crossed your face when you realized what he said. “Wait..how do you know I haven't been here before? ” He circled the counter walking over to you. You began to take some steps back trying to keep your distance but eventually hitting the wall.

“Well, the truth is” He began to speak. “I've seen you before”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "You've seen me before? Where?"

Peeta smiled, "Every day after school you walk home past the Bakery. I've never seen you come in before though. Your always so tense.”

You were surprised and a bit embarrassed that someone had been paying attention to you, "Is it that obvious?"

He shrugged, "I wouldn't say it's obvious, but I do notice things. I like to think I have a good sense of people. And I can tell that you're not a big fan of my mother. But don't worry, she's not here right now. You're safe."

You laughed nervously, "I didn't mean to offend you”

Peeta waved his hand, "It's alright. My mother can be a bit intimidating sometimes, she seems to take her job very seriously." He paused for a moment before continuing, "If you don't mind me asking, what made you decide to come in today?"

“You” was the first thing you wanted to say but then thought about it for a split second. You looked down at the loaf of bread in your hands, "Honestly, it was the smell of your bread. It was too good to resist." you lied.

The boy grinned, "Ah, yes. The smell of fresh bread can be quite tempting cant it”

He began to walk even closer as you nodded nervously in response. “However” He began to speak “I believe my bread may not have been the only reason you came in today,” He said as his eyes began to scan you. Your heart racing. You knew you couldn't stay another second near him. “I think… I should head home now”

As you turned to leave, Peeta reached out and gently grabbed your arm. "Wait," he said softly, "It's just” He took a breath “I like you...I know that sounds weird but I've seen you stare at me from the window before and hoped one day you would come in. And now that you have I dont want to let you go so easily.”

You were immobile. Before you could even think his lips slowly pressed against yours. The heat of his body now becoming more apparent. You felt his hands rise to grab your hair running his fingers through it pulling you in more. His lips tasted like sweet honey, soft like his touch. You couldn't move.

He finally pulled back the both of you gasping for air.

He glanced at you while panting and feeling his chest rise. “I'm sorry, but I just had to kiss you. At least once.”

You kissed him in return.

Immediately he understood grabbing the loaf from your hands and setting it to the side. Breaking the kiss for a moment only to grab the sign on the door that read “OPEN” and turning it over. “I know I've only ever seen you through the window but you dont understand how badly I dreamt about this” He spoke as he picked you up quickly placing you on the counter.

You felt his hands explore your body, running up and down your back and sliding over your hips.

You let out a small moan, and he pulled back to look at you, a smirk on his face. "Such a sweet girl" he spoke his voice low. You felt a flush rising to your cheeks.

He leaned in to kiss you again, and this time his hands moved lower, grazing over your thighs. You felt a shiver run through you, and you knew that you wanted more. Without thinking, you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The boy responded eagerly, pressing his body against yours and deepening the kiss. You could feel his hardening bulge pressing against your thigh, and you moaned softly, feeling a surge of desire wash over you.

“I think I might have something a little sweeter for you in the back,” He said smirking as he picked you up again taking you to the back of the bakery.

He carried you to a pile of flour sacks stacked on the floor laying you down. “I know this isn't the most ideal place but know at any moment you can say no” He spoke almost expecting you to say so. His hand brushing your hair to the side.

“Never,” You said as you grabbed his neck pulling him on top of you. He smirked as he began to kiss you again. His kiss trailed to your cheek down to your neck. You felt his teeth sink into you as you let out another moan. “Fuck.. you're so fucking good” He whimpered while still trailing his kisses. You felt his hips bucking into your thigh. You could sense his desperation and how hard he was trying to take things slow.

He finally reached your chest. He looked up at you his eyes like a puppy waiting for his treat. “May I pretty girl.”

You nodded as he began to take your shirt off. You helped by untying your bra. The warm air of the Bakery oven hit your chest immediately once it was off but not as warm as the eager boy's tongue now pressing on your tender breast. His tongue lightly sucking while it brushed against your nipple. His moans sending vibrations through your body. His other hand running through your back bringing you closer to him. He took his mouth off your breast leaving kisses as he made his way down your stomach. “If I knew you tasted this good I would have kissed you as soon as you came in.” He whispered smirking between a kiss.

Before you even noticed he pulled your pants off, grabbed your thighs, and threw your legs over his broad shoulders. He lightly squeezed your thighs before placing his fingers on your covered clit. Making you shudder right away. “So wet already Princess?”

You couldn't take it anymore. “Peeta please-” You whimpered desperately needing him inside you.

“I guess I'm not the only desperate one,” He smirked as he undid his apron tossing it to the side. And for the first time, you noticed just how built he was. His arms barely fit his white shirt. He unbuckled his pants and slid them off along with his underwear. He groaned as his cock was exposed. You gulped at the sight just thinking about it being inside you. “I promise to take it slow,” He said as he cupped your face making sure you felt safe. He took one more look at you.

“Beautiful,” He whispered.

His eyes traced every inch of you as if making sure to engrave it in his memory. He placed his fingers on your panties again slowly pushing them to the side. He began to slide into you. You tried your best to hold back your moans placing your palm over your mouth to suppress them. He noticed and immediately took it away. “No I want to hear you” he spoke “I want to hear just how good I make you feel” His command alone made you let out the moan you so desperately held back.

You grabbed his hair pulling him deeper into you making him whine. “Faster-” Was all you could let out before he increased his speed sending you over the edge. His whimpers now sounded like pleads as he called your name. His cock warming you up from the inside as he thrusted. His rhythm reminding you of the number of times you could have been absolutely fucked by him if only you had just taken more than a peak when walking past the shop.

“Your so fucking tight princess “ He moaned out “You dont know how much I wanted this” His thrusts now going as fast as they could. You whined as you felt your body getting closer. “Peeta I think I'm going to -”

He placed his lips onto yours kissing you roughly as he whimpered into your mouth suppressing your moans. You couldn't hold back anymore. You felt your body contract as you came.

His dick still sliding in and out of you. But with a final buck of his hips, you felt as he came inside you. The both of you breaking the kiss as you panted letting out the last moans. He pulled out laying next to you.

He ran his fingers through your cheek, kissing your forehead.

“I knew you tasted just as sweet as you looked”

#peeta supremacy #peeta smut #i love peeta #peeta mellark #peeta x reader #peeta my beloved #the hunger games peeta #peetah #peeta #the hunger games #Peeta fr #fanfiction #movies #hunger games fanfiction #team peeta

[megumisgirl]

too hot. a game where the two players kiss without stopping and touching each other. if one player touches the other, s/he loses. the winner gets to do whatever they want with the loser.

megumi x fem!reader

on a regular day, you wouldn't indulge in stupid games with your best friend-- megumi. specially at a party. you were a sloppy(-horny-)drunk, and you kept the horny to yourself.

"come on, y/n!" yuuji whined, dragging you as megumi stood behind you. you turned to look at him with a pleading look so he'd help you with yuuji. but he just looked away.

as much as megumi hated you being drunk, he kind of secretly loved it. how you would bat your eyelashes at him, how touchy you would get, kissing his jaw, going lower and lower till he has to forcefully stop you. the only thing he hated was how you forgot everything the next day because of your bad tolerance.

"megumi! tell him i can't!" you whined, yuuji wheezed, dragging you in the private room. nobara, maki, inumaki, yuuta sat in a circle, waiting for the three of you. "guys!" you whined.

"there they are!" nobara said, angrily. " 'bout time!" you groaned as yuuji pushed you. you sat down beside nobara as megumi sat opposite you. you smiled at him sarcastically as he smiled back at you.

"we have an exam tomorrow!" you whined, the group boo-ed as you raised your hand up, signalling peace. nobara put the bottle in the middle and leaned back.

"so, we're playing too hot. whoever the two people lands on, must kiss untill one of them breaks it, or touches the other. winner does whatever the fuck they want with the loser." nobara smirked, "and i mean... whatever."

naturally, your eyes went to the raven haired man in front of you. his eyes were already focused on you. his blue eyes now almost seeming black, with lust, greed and hope. you took in a breath, blinking, hoping you imagined that. his eyes, however, stayed focus on you. how you squirmed under his gaze, your nervousness as the bottle spinned. you watched yuuji and inumaki kiss awkwardly and inumaki telling gojo to flash his abs at the new freshmen students as punishments. you were actually having fun.

as everyone settled down again, the bottle spun. your heart beating inside your ears as the bottle stopped. shit. everyone "ooh"ed as you looked up to see megumi. the boy's cheek crimsoned as maki nobara nudged at you.

"kiss!" she cheered. you looked at her with wide eyes before you looked at megumi again.

"he's my best friend!" you protested. megumi's heart cracked everytime you said something like that. he's just a friend. you're my best friend, megs. but when you were drunk, you'd just blabble the truth. you're so kissable. i wish you would let me kiss you more often. can you rail me, please? he knew you never really meant that, but you did. drunk words are sober thoughts.

"tuna mayo." inumaki said.

"yeah! he had to do what he was said, we even kissed!" yuuji groaned, "you have to as well!" he pulled you towards the center as inumaki pushed megumi to the middle. "inumaki's breath smelled like swiss cheese." he mumbled.

"mayo."

"NO I DID NOT LIKE IT!" yuuji screamed. you looked at megumi who didn't say a single word since you two arrived. you breathed as you brought yourself closer to him.

your lips hoovering over his before he inisiated the kiss. nobara from behind brought your hands to your back, saying something. but the sounds stopped. everything stopped when your lips crashed with his. his tounge swirled over yours as you bit back a moan. moaning in front of everyone while you kissed your best friend would've been an embarassment you couldn't live with.

unconciously, your hands went to his hair, pulling him close as the buzzer rang in your ears. "y/n loses!" yuuji grinned widely, winking at megumi. "fushiguro! you're the winner, what's her punishment?" his blue eyes went to yours before you blushed brightly. your mind still processing the kiss that happened.

"i'll take it from here." megumi said, standing up as he dragged you with him. your eyes wide as the other "ew"ed at you. he dragged you through the various rooms, till he found a good one. he opened the door, pushing you inside before he locked it. your back was still turned to him while your mind ran scenarios of what could happen right now.

you turned out to face the raven haired boy. he just looked at you, savouring every inch of what he was going to destroy. his hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning yours. "not drunk.." he mumbled, taking your hands as he checked your pulse, "not drugged." his eyes went back to yours, but you stared at the two of your hands connected. his large hands practically absorbed yours.

you looked up at him when his hands slowly went higher, caressing you in the slighest way. "megumi..." you breathed out, "what are you doing?" you asked. he didn't answer right way, his hands snaked to your neck, and then the back of his hands caressed your cheek before you leaned in his touch. closing your eyes, letting the dim purple light beam through your eyes.

"what i should've done years ago." he said, before pulling you by your neck and crashing his lips into yours. you moaned at his rough movement before you moaned in his mouth before he guided you to the bed. you slammed on your back before you pulled your sweatpants down. you didn't a chance to breathe before his lips was on yours again.

"megumi..." you moaned as his lips nibbled at your neck, your jaw, your earlobes. his hands roamed around your body, pinching, rubbing and caressing every bit of free skin he could find. his hands went inside your hoodie, pinching your nipple. "ah!" you moaned in his mouth. he groaned as your hands went to his buldge, palming it over his sweatpants.

with one swift movement he took of your skirt, leaving you only in his hoodie and your panties. he pushed you into the bed, the matress sinking as he lowered himself right in front of your pretty cunt. his long slender fingers rubbed you over your panties, you bit your lips, trying to calm the moans that were in your throat. the loud chase atlantic music coming from outside, the loud thumps making your heartbeat faster than it already was.

pushing your panties aside, he ran his fingers through your slick folds. you whimpered, your legs spreading unconciously. he looked up to see your face, head thrown back, hair sticking to your face from the sweat, your face red and mouth slight agape. you felt his gaze as you lowered your head. your eyes hazy and vision blurry.

he pulled your panties and threw it somewhere with your skirt on the floor. wrapping his arms around your thick thighs he yanked you closer to him. you yelped at the sensation. his tounge flickered over your bud, licking, kissing, sucking. doing anything to make you feel good.

you arched your back, pushing yourself further into his mouth as you felt your orgasm near but he stopped. you panted as you opened your eyes, your mascara smudged from the tears and your lipstick anywhere but on your lips. "this is a punishment, remember?" he smirked, you whined. a sharp slap to your pussy. you jerked up from the sensitivity, tears welling in your eyes as you moaned as he rubbed your cunt. "good girls don't whine, y/n. they take their punishments, and get rewards..." he lowered himself to your ears, kissing your cheek as he whispered, "do you want your reward, y/n?"

you never saw megumi like this. truth be told, you barely acknowledged that he might have feelings for you. but seeing him like this made the knot in your stomach tighten, "yes." you said, breathlessly, almost panting.

he sent you a mocking smile before he got up again. his hands running through your hair, letting your bun fall loose. he kissed the top of your nose as he pushed your hoodie upwards and your bra downwards. his thumbs gazed over your peaked nipples as you shuddered at his touch.

he kissed your nipple. rolling his tounge over your bud as he gently grazed his teeth over it. you turned your head to your side, trying to stiffle the moans but he roughly turned your head to him. his hands still wet from your slick, "i want to hear you, okay? dont be quite."

he made it impossible for you to be quiet. his fingers went in and out of you, knuckles deep, at such a fast pace, you felt your entire body shake. and just as you were going to come, he would stop. making even more tears fall from your eyes. the sound of your sobs and his fingers squelching in and out of you filled the room.

"megumi please..." you sobbed in a shaky breath, he laughed, taking his shirt off, his perfect tonned and tanned abs in display for you. "please let me come." you cried, he ran a thumb over your tears and brought it to his lips, licking your tears as you inhaled shakily.

"aww... you wanna come?" he taunted, you snuffled, nodding your head. "fine, butterfly." he cooed, running his hands through your hair as he pushed his sweatpants down with his free hand. "i'll let you come this time, hmm?"

he tapped the tip of his swollen dick to your pussy, making you jerk up again. a soft smile placed on his lips as he kissed you sloopily. his dick slipping inside you perfectly because of how wet you were. he thursted all nine inches of him side, you arched your back, feeling him up your throat as you shook your head.

"too full, too full, too full!" you mumbled, curling your toes as you felt your orgasm near.

he brought his face closer to yours whispering praises as you cried at his girth, "doing so well, butterfly." he kissed your cheek, leaning back to see his cock slide perfectly in and out of your pussy. a ring of arousal coating each thurst. he started going harder, rougher, deeper, "so tight.." he mumbled, grabbing your leg and throwing it over his shoulder.

he used his free hand to rub circles around your swollen clit. thats all you needed to come all over him. hot liquid gushed all over his thighs, your leg and the sheets. he smiled cockily, "i made ya' squirt?" he chuckled, drool slipped from your mouth as he flipped you over, so you'd be over on your stomach.

he pushed you down and arched your back just the right way before he entered you again. you screamed as he hit your g-spot. the second orgasm almost coming minutes later. he wrapped your loose hair around his fists and pulled you up. saliva dripping from your open mouth, tears streaming down your face. a smirk formed on his lips, "have i fucked you dumb, y/n?" he chuckled.

you cleched at his words, squeezing his dick as he lets go of your hair. your head thumping into the pillows as he thursted into you sloopily. bruises started to show on your hips as he gripped you tightly.

you gushed out all over him again, triggering his come to squirt all over your thighs, your stomach and your boobs. he panted on top of you, both of your breathing getting lost into the music.

"i should come to parties more often." you joked, he chuckled, still panting as he laid a soft kiss into your mouth.

"yeah, you should."

#megumi #megumi smut #megumi jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #megumi x reader #notsfw #gojo smut #nsfr

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - Sick Days 🤧

Rated PG!

These are my headcanons of how the Papas act while sick vs reacting to you being sick.

Thank you BugbiteWrites on AO3 for the idea!

Primo

When he’s sick:

Ignores his symptoms for as long as possible until he can no longer deny them

Downplays his symptoms even when you act very concerned for his well-being

Insists you stay away so you don’t get sick too

Worries about his plants while he’s too sick to care for them

When you’re sick:

Babies/dotes on you

Insists you go to bed immediately even if it’s just the sniffles

Makes you tea with the herbs and things from his garden

Keeps asking if you’ve taken your medicine

Secondo

When he’s sick:

Pretends he isn’t sick but knows when to admit defeat

Looks very grumpy, clearly annoyed he couldn’t just avoid the germs

Worries about the state of the Ministry while he’s unable to work, but trusts you and the ghouls will keep things running

Doesn’t ask for much except he really wants blue Gatorade

When you’re sick:

Insists you stop working and go to the doctor

Immediately sends a ghoul to get medical supplies for whatever your ailment is once you get a verdict from the doctor

Is still very busy but makes time to check on you

It was his idea to bring you a humidifier and you think it’s helping

Hand feeds you chicken noodle soup

Terzo

When he’s sick:

When he starts feeling the symptoms he over exaggerates them

Acts like he’s dying when he’s just got a little cold

Asks “Is that you, <name>?” and coughs weakly everytime you enter the room

Very sad he can’t have sex while he’s out of commission

Says “If I’m getting sick then so are you!” before kissing you and giggling. He just wants to lay in bed with you while he feels bad 🥹

When you’re sick:

Very dramatic, acts as if you may die if he doesn’t help you

Probably would give you an entire bottle of cold medicine because he thinks more will get you better faster

Likely does more harm than good when “helping you” but he’s trying, he’s just a little dumb

Keen on the idea of “playing doctor” with you but he has no clue what he’s doing, he’s just horny (“I must undress you immediately! And…put you into something more comfy…”)

If you’re sick first and do end up getting him sick too he acts annoyed, and reminds you every 5 minutes that you’ve sentenced him to death

Copia

When he’s sick:

He is NOT brave, in fact he cries a little if his tummy hurts

Feels guilty for taking time away from work

You catch him scribbling away at his desk before whisking him back off to bed

“But…but how will the Ministry run if I am not there?” (It’ll be just fine, Copia…)

Wants you and only you to take care of him

Keeps asking for cheese (even though that’s probably what gave him a stomach ache)

When you’re sick:

Takes you to urgent care even when you insist it’s just allergies

Attempts to make you soup but burns it. (You don’t care because your sense of smell and taste is gone)

Checks on you frequently and keeps taking your temperature

Has alarms on his phone each time period you��re supposed to take more medicine and feeds them to you himself

Nihil

When he’s sick:

He denies, denies, denies he is unwell

Finally he succumbs and lays down, exhausted and claims he “doesn’t know what’s going on”

Once he actually lays down he admits he might be sick and acts like a baby

Gets a little more grumpy than usual because he doesn’t know how to communicate his needs while he’s feeling bad

When you’re sick:

Doesn’t want whatever you’ve got so he calls the medical ghoul to come check on you

Buys you a “get well soon” balloon from the store

Keeps asking if you feel better yet

#the band ghost #ghost bc #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band fanfic #copia is my husband #ghost band headcanons #headcanon #the band ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus i x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus nihil #papa emeritus iv #copia emeritus #terzo fanfiction #terzo x reader #terzo my beloved

[quitealotofsodapop]

Disturbing thought after reading the Spider Sisters arc of JTTW:

CW for discussions of cannibalism;

So in the book; after the Seven Spider Sisters invite Tripitaka in for some food, they try to trick him into eating human flesh as a cruel prank as they're seducing him. Not only as an insult, but as a tactic - humans who consume (willingly or not) fellow sentient beings get a massive hit to their positive Karma. Like, straight back to Hungry Ghost level. As a monk, if Tripitaka hadn't been wary (for once) of the meal offered to him, he would have not been able to enter the Buddha's domain at all.

Only in times of extreme famine is such consumption excused in the Buddha's eye. One major reason being that eating human flesh was like the super-extreme of desiring meat, and that it caused an addicition in the consumer.

It's not just a cruel joke common to demons, it a calculated move to permanently lower their victim's Karma - likely transforming them into a fellow demon within the next life.

SO

In one of my fave episodes "To Catch A Leaf"; MK gets earthquake-causing hiccups from "cursed meatballs" he ate at a eating competition. His seller is clearly meant to be a demon/spirit who targeted him specifically - likely recognising him as the demon-fighting Monkey Kid.

MK: "Oh man I so could go for more of those [meatballs] right now!"

Even the creators must have realised an issue here, as the transcript for the episode changes it to "beef balls" instead (angry mooing from DBK and Red Son).

And considering that the Spider Sisters were skillful cooks enough to make human flesh appear like gluten and tofu?

I wouldn't be surprised if the cook who targetted MK slipped something non-kosher into those meatballs.

Or maybe just pork cus his dad's a pig.

Then again it could have been another reason why Sandy decided that he had to get MK to consume a super-rare buddhist flower immediately.

Fun fact; entities who have consumed human flesh in JTTW are said to have a weird stank about them, esp in their breath. SKW notably *does not* have this stank about him (both Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing do, both being eaters of humans prior to joining Tripitaka) but he's able to recognise it in other demons. Kinda like how people who eat a lot of cheese can smell like cheese.

SWK, meets up with the gang after S2: "...MK. Why do you smell like that?"

#cannibalism tw #jttw theories #journey to the west #lego monkie kid #lmk #jttw #lmk theories #lmk mk #qi xiaotian

[lvrcpid]

headcannons - modern!au

— my personal headcannons for my modern!au

neteyam

- keeps his room really tidy

- he probably works at tillys or footlocker

- most likely has a newer car since he’s a top tier child

- had braces from age 10 to 15

- i think he keeps his locs short

- speaking of locs, he knows how to retwist so he saves money on that part

- he’s allergic to nuts and blueberries

- he loves 2pac and biggie

- his favorite holiday is most likely christmas

- cargo pants are his go to

- probably asked lo’ak to put him on with you

- has the prettiest smile ever

lo’ak

- he doesn’t wanna work , he kisses up to mo’at for money

- he wears glasses and sometimes contacts

- he has his permit , his 9 months aren’t up yet 💀

- probably makes soundcloud music but it’s actually good

- he doesn’t tell anyone this but he wants to be a vet when he grows up

- he’s a dog lover , wants a dog named rico

- always taking tsireya on dates cause his love language is quality time

- he vapes. i’m sorry he just does.

- probably still gets in hella trouble

- when and if he does get a job, he works at footlocker/tillys with neteyam (he didn’t wanna do the interviews , he thinks they’re cringe)

- his room either smells of his vapes, chips or the occasional wallflowers neytiri makes him use

- everyone thinks his name is so cool and unique

kiri

- she plays guitar. no more.

- has a pet guinea pig

- probably plays roblox in her free time

- stays cutting and dying her hair

- she probably doesn’t care she’s adopted

- she bakes a lot

- girl in red is her favorite artist

- vines and incense are a must in her room

- her and rotxo are dating but they probably have that “im not ashamed of you i just don’t want everyone in our business” type relationship

- she works at khols and gets khols cash for her mom

- she probably smokes weed

- she definitely does.

- she’s not like always high but she’s always high

ao’nung

- he loves sleeping

- he also wears glasses but hate the way they shape his face

- he probably has a few tattoos ngl

- he stays looking at fight videos on twitter

- idc he’s a big cuddler

- he’s the type to see crying as a weakness

- still has ronals smile

- speaking of ronal he’s a mommas boy

- the type to secretly take pictures of you and set them as his background and get flustered when you point it out

- he probably doesn’t work since being an athlete takes up most of his time but when the season is over he works at zumiez

tsireya

- a big crybaby ngl

- pageant princess back in the day

- she probably knows how to play the violin

- head over heels for lo’ak

- she wants to marry this boy

- she probably wears a lot of vans

- i see her being prone to sickness really often like she’s always catching a cold and allergies are the devil

- i’m sorry but she vapes too , she does not CAREEEEEE

- avid starbucks drinker

- her favorite food is shrimp

- contrary to popular belief her and aonung are very close and have sleep overs all the time

- she works at a hair salon as an assistant

tuk

- that girl lives in claire’s

- reminder she is 8 , let’s give our girl some credit

- she’s probably not an ipad kid. she probably has her own phone and is surprisingly really responsible with it

- girl is so ready for high school and hasn’t even hit middle school yet

- i don’t see her as the type to kid to love sweets, something tells me tuk is more of a i’ll eat it but i know when to stop type kid

- lo’ak doesn’t watch her, she watches lo’ak

- probably mature enough to be left at home by herself

- she loves mac and cheese

- that is her MEAL

- she never knows what she wants to eat

- they’re always in the restaurant waiting on tuk

- i don’t see her as a big crybaby but moral support for her siblings like she’s always like “i’m here for you” when lo’ak and jake get into it , not like ranting but you get it

- her and neteyam are partners in crime

- her bedtime is 8:30 , 9:00 when she’s completed her homework early

- she’s so SASSYYYYY

#avatar #avatar x reader #awotw #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #kiri x reader #sully family x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #tuk avatar #jake sully #aonung x reader #avatar 2 #— saetalks! ☆ #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #modern!avatar

[johaerys-writes]

As Fate Would Have It

Patrochilles | Omegaverse | E | Ch. 6

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

Achilles doesn’t come back in the night. He doesn’t come back at dawn. A new day breaks, the sun rising golden and bright above the waters, but the room is still empty, Achilles' bed cold. 

A warm breeze blows through the window, making the curtains whisper. Patroclus left it open during the night; Achilles has a habit of hopping out of it and climbing down the branches of the olive tree when he's off to meet his mother, and then returning the same way. Patroclus slept lightly; even in the depths of his slumber, part of his awareness was alert of his surroundings, hoping he might catch a sight or sound of Achilles in the dark.

Dawn comes and goes, the day steadily ripening, and there’s no one there other than him. 

He pushes himself up off his pallet. There’s a crick in his neck and his head feels leaden; he didn’t even drink that much wine last night, but he still feels dazed and hungover. He can still taste the sweetness of Achilles' lips on his tongue and smell him on his chiton, and his heart throbs with a dull ache that's almost like longing, like sorrow.

But of course, it cannot be. Patroclus does not harbour any such sentiments for Achilles.

He stands before the open window by Achilles’ bed for a long while, gazing down at the beach and the city beyond it, searching for a golden form amidst the waves and the sand. Finally, he gives up, making his way to the mess hall. 

Peleus is there, and so is Phoenix. They’re talking about some faraway kingdom or other, their army and their naval power and the coin they must have in their coffers. Mycenae, they say, has grown in power, and so has Arisbe—allies to keep close, enemies to watch. Peleus only offers Patroclus the most cursory of acknowledgements as he greets them both, then takes his customary seat beside Achilles’ chair. It stands empty and silent in the crowded hall— and Patroclus has never felt more alone. 

He has his breakfast mechanically, eating his bread and cheese and olives without relish. His friends haven’t shown up yet, probably nursing hangovers of their own. Patroclus picks up his cup with a sigh and takes a generous sip of wine, hoping it might ease the knot in the pit of his stomach. 

Two cups later, and the wine hasn't had the desired effect. His head is heavy, and so is his heart, and even though he finishes the plate of food before him, he still feels a strange sort of hunger, of dissatisfaction. He knows not what might ease that craving—certainly not any kind of food or drink, but he still can’t figure out what it is that he's missing. The only thing he knows with alarming clarity is that had Achilles been there, he wouldn’t have felt as lost and despondent as he does now. 

Which is a strange thought, all on its own. Patroclus doesn’t even know him all that well, let alone like him. He really doesn't like him. He just… 

Patroclus sighs. His mind returns to the events of the previous night unbidden, and Patroclus curses himself anew, much more fervently than he did before going to sleep. He had tried going down to the beach after Achilles fled to look for him, but it had been far too dark for him to make anything out. He had returned to the palace soon after, and considered grabbing a torch and going down again, but he knew it was futile. Heavens knew where Achilles might be. Perhaps he had run to the far end of the beach, where the rocks and shallow caves lie; he might have dove straight into the waters to find his goddess mother. Calling out for him wouldn’t do, and would probably raise too much alarm in the palace. 

Patroclus had finally gone back to his room, where he had paced and fretted and worried well into the night. He had tried to devise a plan for the following day, how he might search for Achilles, where he might find him— and then his resolve had abandoned him completely. 

For even if he did find him, what would he do? What would he tell him? Would he apologise for his transgression? Ask for his forgiveness while accepting any punishment Achilles might exact? Beg him not to kick him out like a stray, knowing that if he stays by his side it will only be a matter of time before he wants to kiss him again?

Patroclus shudders at the implications, and all the grim possibilities. Perhaps it is best that he let things be for now, and he stop thinking about Achilles altogether.

His cup drained, Patroclus waves away the servants that try to fill it up; he pushes his plate away and stands up. Without even paying his respects to the King beside him, he makes his way to the training yard, where the men are already starting to gather. A few newcomers have shown up; Neokles, the master at arms, tasks Patroclus with training them, since he’s the most senior in the group right now. Patroclus jumps at the chance; whatever opportunity he has to take his mind away from Achilles and the events of last night, he will do it. 

He works the boys mercilessly until midday, ordering them through drills after drills until they can barely hold a spear up. Then, he dismisses them, but he doesn’t quite leave the yard. It is empty now, void of people, everyone having gone to have a quick meal and some rest before resuming their duties after the worst of the heat has passed. Patroclus takes advantage of the solitude to train, lifting the weights reserved for the most advanced athletes and practising his swords and his spears. The repetitive motions help him focus, and the exertion clears his head even if it doesn't ease the vice of worry that's still gripping his stomach.  

That is how Eurydamas finds him: sweaty and breathless yet still somehow wired and taut like a drawn bow string. 

Read the rest on AO3!

#patrochilles #achilles #patroclus #the song of achilles #tsoa #hades game #homer's iliad #the iliad #omegaverse #johaerys writes

[murdocks-devil]

intangible - m.m.

Fluff, no warnings

Summary: Matt can't believe he gets to wake up next to you every day, the happiness enough to bend reality at its wake.

-------

You must be a magician, he thinks. At the very least, some kind of a witch like Wanda Maximoff or a sorceror like Wong.

You'd have to be. There is no other explanation. Reality must bend around you.

It must. It has to.

What else could it be, how you're right there every morning he wakes up? Soft, sleep rumpled, nuzzling into his chest, snoring softly even though he'd never tell you that. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the way your hair covers more his chest than your pillow. How close your arms hold him and don't let go even if it gets dangerously close to running late. Your mumbling about five more minutes when he tries to wake you up. The murmur of your eyelashes against your cheek just before your eyes fly open once you realize the time. The shuffle of your feet against the floor when you dash to the bathroom.

And how you never forget to run back to drop a kiss on his lips before rushing away again.

He feels like a statue there, on the bed that smells like his soap and your shampoo and the antiseptic you used last night to clean his wounds. Sunlight comes in the open window, warming his bare thighs as he sits frozen on the crumpled duvet, his pillow crushed awkwardly under his ass in his hurry to sit down. Your heartbeat is steady, strong, like an earworm he doesn't ever want to get rid of. His head feels dizzy, and for a moment he thinks back to the Devil getting thrown against the wall last night. He could have a concussion.

He could, sure.

But then there's your voice coming in from the shower, your feet hitting the wet floor with every beat of Bohemian Rhapsody you belt out with full gusto, and his senses sharpen, hone in, try to drink in every single piece if you he can gather.

He can't help it, it's you.

There's a middle aged driver yelling at the cyclist who stopped abruptly in front of his car about four blocks away, the lady two buildings down is making turkey and cheese for breakfast again. A kid is telling his mother about his best friend across the street, but none of those are remotely relevant because it's you in front of him, water dripping down your body onto his rug.

He doesn't have to see to know you're pouting and making a scissoring motion with your hands as you look for the scissors to cut open the new pack of products you got yesterday. It's so distinctly you, he thinks. All your quirks, the little details of your behaviour are filed filed away in his brain like world's biggest treasure chest, opened with the most devoted love and admiration only.

It's not even a conscious try to open the bedside drawer and coughing pointedly for you to notice. You must, he infers, from the way you pad towards him, your hands cold from the shower as you take it from his hands. Suddenly you're closer, dropping kisses on his cheeks, mumbling a soft "Thank you. God, I love you so much."

His breath hitches, and you must notice, because you don't move away. You're both gonna be late today, he's sure, but nothing matters because you're taking his face in your hands. His hands curl around your wrists without a thought, a silent plea.

"Matt?"

For the love of everything holy. It's not fair, he thinks, the way you keep doing these things, the way his name fits in your lips.

"Matty?" you ask again, "Does it hurt really bad? Is everything okay? What's wrong? Please talk to me."

"I'm-" he has to swallow thickly to force the lump of emotions down his throat. You wait, ever patient, even though your heart still beats with relentless concern. "I'm absolutely fine, sweetheart."

"But, Matt-"

"Baby, baby, baby." He cuts you off, pulling you closer, not caring how your shower-fresh form must be wetting his silk bedsheets. He'll buy new ones every damn day to have you close like this. "I love you so much, you know that right? God save me, sweetheart, I love you so fucking much."

"Matthew." The softness of your voice threatens to break his heart. It really is not fair, how a single utterance of his name from your lips can make him feral, unhinged with his need to hold you, to protect you, to love you like you deserve, to worship at your alter.

His lips find yours like second nature, the familiarity of the act only urging him on more- knowing this is something he gets to do with you, to have you this close, to be loved and missed and cherished by you.

The devotion spills over unrestrained, his lips soft, chaste, so very in contrast with what happened in the very same bed only a few hours ago. There is salt in the air, and he pulls away, worried he offended you for some reason. It's only when you're brushing away the tears on his cheeks that it dawns on him, the emotions marking him with the tracks now painted with your kisses.

Your knees are on the bed, forehead resting on his, the sunlight lighting his hair in reds and light browns. He looks angelic, and you can't help the smile that threatens to take over your face, mirrored by his own. "I love you too, Matthew Murdock."

Yes, there must be something about you, he thinks, wrapped in your embrace. Some may call it magic, some may call it witchcraft.

Yes it could be.

He, however, knows it's simply you.

-------

Tagging some peeps but lmk if you wanna be added or removed 💙💙💙

@freshabogados @shedaresthedevil @mattmurdockspainkink @matt-erialgirl @phoebe-danvers @saintmurd0ck @nelson-et-murdock @h-llfire @skvatnavle

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #daredevil #matt murdock #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock #jace.fic

[viktorybell]

Growing Pains

Link x Zelda

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: self deprecating thoughts, gets pretty suggestive in certain places (wink wink nudge nudge) but nothing too explicit

a/n: this is insanely self-indulgent, not apologizing

Zelda came home at 6, dragging her weary feet across the village of Hateno long after the last child left the school house. She always does this to herself, staying until the last child is picked up by their parents. One of her coworkers even offered to let her off early today, their numbers lower than ever on the last day of school before summer. Of course, her perfectionist tendencies wouldn’t let her accept the offer, allowing somebody else to leave as she kept struggling with over thirty excitable children desperate to be done with school.

The walk home has never felt so slow and agonizing, the sight of her simple Hateno home never more comforting. Zelda slings her bag further up her shoulder as she bullies the old, creaky door open with a hip. Immediately she’s hit with the smell of something warm and comforting coming from the kitchen. The tension leaves her shoulders, nearly dropping an armful of student drawings and her long drained coffee thermos.

It’s usually a 50/50 shot whether Link will be home after Zelda finishes her shift at the school, her partner so prone to helping with one of a million tedious tasks around the village. His caring nature and drive to help others warms Zelda’s heart, usually setting it aflutter, but she can’t deny her relief at Link’s presence in their shared home. With a meal to boot? Zelda could kiss him.

“That smells divine…” She mumbles, trudging to their small kitchen table to add her load to a growing pile of clutter that’s began to form in the chaos of the last week of school. Arms free, Zelda shuffles over to where Link is humming over the stove top, his hips swaying in such a way that she has to refrain from gripping at them. Instead she settles for pressing her chest to his back, arms wrapping around his torso snugly as she noses along the nape of his neck. Link tries his best to act unfazed as she presses chaste kisses up and up towards his ear, watching it twitch slightly, the tip tinged red. As stoic as her knight likes to play, she knows the cracks in his armor and it makes her grin.

“I just finished cooking,” Link hums as he leans back slightly into his princess’ hold. On the stove is a steaming…disk? She’s never seen something of the like before, almost looking like the circular flat breads she enjoys with every other meal in Gerudo Valley. 

“What…is that?” Zelda asks almost nervously. She trusts in his culinary ability, knowing damn well she can barely manage to boil water herself. However, at the same time she’s seen Link choke down dubious concoctions of frogs and monster bits alongside actual goddess forsaken rocks. So it’s sort of a toss up.

Link chuckles as he carefully begins cutting the circular bread in half with a satisfying crunch. “Pizza.”

Zelda nods and hums in response, like she totally understands whatever the fuck Link just said. There’s silence for a moment more before she cannot physically hold her tongue any longer. “Is that a real word or are you just messing with me and this is going right over my head?”

“It’s new,” Link says, not bothering to hide his laughter at Zelda’s response as he quarters the pizza. “Koyin needed my help at the lake. Sent me on like ten different missions today, and ended with us getting more cheese than we can eat.”

“Cheese?” Zelda repeats, the word scratching at a memory just beyond her grasp. Something she must have read in passing.

She had been doing research into the culture and history of Hateno Village back when she first returned from her 100 year stint keeping Calamity Ganon down. It had been hard to walk out of Link’s meager home, the world around her new and strange and different from the one she once knew. Worse than that she was scared of the people. Her people. Scared of what they’d think, scared they’d blame her for their losses. Their princess, the goddess’ chosen hero of wisdom, missing for a century and somehow getting to show up again seemingly unscathed. It had taken her a long time before she was able to step foot into town. Months even. Probably would’ve lasted an entire year if Link’s home had not been truly desolate and mind numbingly plain. There was only so many times she could rearrange their three pieces of furniture before even the ridicule of her beloved people outweighed the boredom of staring out the same window for hours on hours as she waited for Link to return.

The town library had been her first stop.

“Yeah, cheese. Koyin even lent me an old recipe from her grandfather. Pizza,” Link explains as he pulls a quarter of the pizza apart from the circle. Long, steaming strings of cheese connect the slice to the remaining pieces. Zelda’s stomach growls where it’s pressed to Link’s back, both of them freezing up at the sound. Link sets the pizza back down and gives her a curious look over his shoulder. “Have you eaten at all today?”

Not wanting to worry her partner, Zelda immediately slips into damage control mode. She leans in, pressing another hot line of kisses up the side of Link’s neck. These ones are open mouthed and lingering compared to the light pecks from earlier, lightly dragging her teeth across a bruise she’d left there earlier in the week. Link’s ear twitches again, harder this time as his focus slips a bit, but he pulls himself together at the last moment. He turns in Zelda’s arms to give her a disappointed look.

“Did you work through your lunch break again?” Link’s brows are pulled together in worry as he leans back against the stove, putting enough distance between them to fold his arms. No matter how pretty she tries to bat her eyelashes, her stubborn knight refuses to budge an inch.

With a sigh, her arms drop from Link’s hips to fold around her own torso, defensively mirroring Link’s posture without realizing. “It was another half day at the school, and you know how many of the students show up to after school care when the day is over.”

“And nobody could cover you for lunch?” Link prods, still looking at her with those kicked puppy blue eyes that made her want to storm away and sleep the rest of the day away as if she were a teen again. Zelda hates that she makes him worry. Hates that she takes up space in his mind like that, hates that she takes up space in general. Hates being useless. Hates not being able to take a break. Hates constantly worrying that she isn’t doing enough. She doesn’t say it out loud. After so long at each other’s sides, she doesn’t really need to. Link sighs sadly. He doesn’t have to say it out loud either, but she knows he wants to shake her by the shoulders and insists she matters, that she deserves to rest.

“Come sit and eat,” He says instead, arms falling back to his sides. The tension brewing in Zelda dissipates immediately, her shoulders slumping like a puppet with cut strings. There’s a terrible ache in her lower back she hadn’t noticed until she stopped running about like a cuccoo with its head chopped off. She presses a light kiss to the corner of his lips as thanks, one he reels her in to return in full. The two only part from the kiss when Zelda’s stomach decides to make itself known yet again. Link chuckles against her lips, tapping her hip where his hands had slid up to hold her during their kiss. “Sit. Eat.”

“Unf, Link. You know how hot it gets me when you use caveman speak,” Zelda teases as she does as told, sliding into her usual seat at the table. Link sends a half-hearted glare her way, signing something along the lines of ‘go fuck yourself,’ before turning his attention back to their dinner.

As much as she adores giving her boyfriend a hard time, she adores every word to come out of his mouth. When they were younger, Link said hardly a word to her despite how many she hurled at him. Being seventeen is hard. Being the princess was harder. Being her knight was likely even harder than that. Zelda finds herself getting stuck on her treatment of Link, taking his silence for judgment. Judgment that he wielded the sword, a random knight from Hyrule goddess chosen and capable. Judgment that no matter how many days and nights she spent praying and begging for an answer, she was left in silence. Silence from the goddess Hylia, silence from her chosen knight. Expectant silence while everyone stared and waited for something incredible she just wasn’t capable of.

Zelda’s spiraling was interrupted by a plate pointedly placed in front of her. Link’s eyebrow is quirked in a silent question when she drags her gaze up from where it had been blindly boring holes into their wooden tabletop. A silent question from her no longer silent knight.

“Sorry, just lost in thought. This is perfect, thank you beloved,” She sighs, watching her love’s ears turn pink as he hurries back to the stove to grab his own slice. 

While no longer completely mute, Link still had his moments. They were becoming fewer and far between when it was just the two of them. Primarily when Link’s having a bad day. But Zelda’s found she quite enjoys his silence as well, now. Especially when its cause is sweet pet names that fluster the knight to no end.

It isn’t long before the two are seated and digging into yet another lovely home cooked meal from the hero of Hyrule. The pizza is unlike anything she’s tried before, but it’s something she could get used to eating. Her first bite is followed by a moan that nearly causes Link to drop his own slice. If that hadn’t proved to him how delicious the food was, the way they devoured the whole pizza in silence did.

“Link,” Zelda groans as she leans back in her chair. “You’ve truly outdone yourself. You must make this again.”

‘I’d make it every single day if you wanted me to, princess.’ Link signs the words to her instead of speaking them aloud, something he does often when saying something sweet. Zelda’s heart squeezes with affection, hiding a giddy grin by sipping from her water. It’s intoxicating to know she has such an effect on her partner. To reduce him to such a blushing, stuttering mess.

The air between them shifts, Zelda’s eyes going half-lidded as she stares across the table at Link as if she would devour him next. Which honestly, she thought to herself, wasn’t such a bad idea…

“The hero of Hyrule AND an amazing chef? How can I ever repay your valiant efforts toward the crown of Hyrule?” She teases as she stands from her chair and slowly stalks towards where Link’s staring with wide eyes. 

A strangled noise gets caught in his throat when Zelda turns his chair out from the table and then gracefully sinks to her knees in front of him. This isn’t anything new for the two of them, but Link is flustered and stumbling over his words like it’s the first time all over again. Unable to put words to his thoughts, Link settles on breathlessly whispering her name as her hands slide up his calves to his thighs. He shifts under her palms unconsciously, biting his bottom lip in anticipation.

“Ah, I mean - well…if you insist,” Link finally stutters out.

Zelda grins up at him wickedly. She flicks her short hair out of her face as she shuffles up closer, something she would soon regret as a bolt of hot pain radiates down her spine from the top of her neck. If she had been standing up her knees would have surely buckled underneath her. Her only saving grace is that she’s already on her knees and instead she falls forward and face plants into her partner’s thigh with a muffled ‘oof’.

The mood between them is shattered as Link immediately tenses up beneath her. Sitting up from his formerly slumped position, he gently brushes her hair out of her face. He’s nervous to move her and worsen the pain.

“Zelda?? Are you ok?” Link asks earnestly. It’s enough to make her face heat up and she turns away from his light touches and groans frustratedly into the meat of his thigh. She can feel him relax some as he gently runs his fingers through her hair. “You overdid it again, didn’t you?”

Both of them were aware of her tendencies to work until she, sometimes literally, dropped. Zelda liked to ignore it, which only made Link more persistent in his attempts at getting her to slow down and take a breath. Ironic, she thought, when Link was definitely the more overtly self-destructive of the two. Of course, she also didn’t see her overworking tendencies as self-destructive, though, which Link vehemently disagrees with. The two could go round and round about it until they were both red in the face and exhausted. Which sometimes they did.

“It was the last day of school, I couldn’t just…leave early,” Zelda sighs, turning her face enough for her voice to be heard clearly. It sounded like a weak excuse even to her own ears, which drooped down in shame.

“Are the other teachers really that bad at their jobs?” Link mumbles, starting to unravel the braids that circle Zelda’s head.

“What? No! They’re entirely capable, I trust them with the physical well-being of any of the children in Hateno,” She says almost indignantly, as if she’d dare let someone unqualified for the job risk the safety of a child.

“Then what’s the issue?”

That gives Zelda pause. She starts and stops nearly four different attempts at defending her actions, but still ends up short. Curse Link and his occasional wisdom. She hates when he makes sense.

“I worry…” Zelda starts, her voice small. “I worry something out of everyone’s control will occur. Whether that be a disaster of some sort? Another calamity? I don’t know. I just feel it all the time, this overwhelming dread like something bad is going to happen. Like…like…”

“Like the other shoe is going to drop?” Link finishes for her when she trails off. “I know. I feel it too.”

“But if I’m there, if I’m present, I can stop it. I can help them in ways other can’t, I can finally stop being so useless-”

Pausing where he was gently unraveling the plaits in Zelda’s hair, he gingerly takes her face in both of his hands. So light and gentle like she’s glass, like she’ll break apart into a thousand pieces so small they can’t possibly piece them together again.

“Calamity Ganon is gone. We’re safe. We have a home in Hateno. You’re princess Zelda of Hyrule. You love frogs and helping the village kids learn how the world around them works. You like pizza,” Link lists fact after fact about her until she finally looks him in the eyes and rests a hand over top of his, still cupping her face.

She recognizes what he’s doing. It’s a grounding technique she uses often when Link is suffering through a bad day. When he swears he can still feel the cold chill of the resurrection shrine, when he coughs with phantom smoke from Ganon’s putrid gloom.

“I hate when you make sense,” With another exaggerated groan, Zelda turns back to hiding her face in his leg, biting down lightly in retaliation. Link giggles almost giddily, his thighs ticklish as he struggles not to jostle his partner.

“C’mon. Stove’s still burning, I can heat some water for a bath,” Link offers as he finishes loosening the last of her braids. He runs his fingers gently through the wavy locks until the last bit of tension drops from Zelda’s shoulders. “Might help with the pain.”

Zelda doesn’t bother denying the soreness that’s truly settling into her muscles now that she’s stopped running about. There’s a dull throb along her back and her knees feel awkward and numb where she’s been resting all her weight on them for the past ten minutes. Taking Link’s offered hands, she lets her knight help her to her feet and pulls him up with her. He nearly stumbles into her, but turns it into an embrace at the last second. His arms are wrapped tight around her waist as he stares up at her through his messy bangs. 

While Zelda had been trying out increasingly shorter hair styles, it seemed like Link was content to let his own hair grow far past his shoulders. Not that she was complaining. The added length made it much more fun to tug at in…certain situations. Link’s breath hitches as Zelda reaches up to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. She’s got a firm but gentle grip, not pulling. Not yet, anyways.

“Only if you’re to join me, beloved.” Zelda hums. She’s all too pleased to see the mood may not have been entirely ruined, giggling behind her hand as Link ducks out of her hold and immediately rushes out to grab a bucket of water from their well out back.

It’s been years now since the two defeated the Calamity. It’ll be years in the future before they may live unburdened by the pain of their shared suffering. But Zelda finds herself not minding the aches and sore spots as much as she thought she would. 

To her it’s a sign of progress. 

Growing pains.

#legend of zegend #lmao that tag is getting me silly #legend of zelda #loz #botw #breath of the wild #zelda #link #linkloz #zelink #zelink fic #fic #fanfic #i always forget what to tag this shit with #oh well

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 40 - Mirror, Mirror

Astarion goes fishing (and not for fish).

On AO3.

Y’all coulda made it back by nightfall, now that y’all know where you’re going. But both Wyll and Gale agree that arriving after a whole day of hiking is a bad strategy (to the disappointment of Karlach and the disgust of Lae’zel). So y’all stop about an hour away—close enough y’all can be rested when you get there, but not so close a patrol might trip over somebody’s tent.

Gale has a spare canvas, nobody has spare poles or stakes; Karlach solves that problem by sauntering to the edge of the trees and ripping three saplings out of the ground to whittle into poles with that bigass ax.

She drives them into the ground and does not use a hammer.

You ain’t the only one watching this with a little too much interest.

big lady your brain chants.

She carries a regular pack, from which she pulls out a blanket that smells vaguely like vasoline, and a raggedy teddy bear she introduces as Clive. The bear is singed around the edges, and seems nearly shellacked in the not-vasoline stuff on the blanket. Some kinda fire-resistant salve she says.

She’s careful not to touch nobody, or even get too close. You watch this, lips pressed tight, chest hurting for her.

Dinner is, once again, bread and cheese and wine. No fire so close to the tollhouse. Karlach strikes up a conversation with Lae’zel about the best way to twist somebody’s head off, while Shadowheart watches over the rim of her goblet.

Gale, without much to do in the way of a cook fire, plops down outside his tent with a book, several scrolls, and an ink pot to start scratching away. Meanwhile, Wyll volunteers to go on patrol—make sure y’all really are out of fake paladin range—and set up some snares. You can’t tell if he’s upset with y’all’s decision to let Karlach join, or if he don’t like her around, or if it’s some secret third thing that’s got him so tense. He’s seemed like a real good dude—though everybody has shit takes on something.

The sun sinks low and the light goes gray as evening deepens. Lae’zel actually takes a night off from breaking your ass (either distracted by Karlach, or deciding that leaving you like, rested, increases your chances of not fucking anything up tomorrow).

Which leaves you just…hanging out. For the first time, you have the mental and physical energy to stay awake, but you have no phone, no internet, no books or movies or anything to fiddle with. Maybe you could work on that strip of linen Astarion “gifted” you. But then he’d see you doing it and start shit and besides, you got no clue how to sew.

You’re so busy trying to think up a way to be busy, that you notice the man skulk out of his tent. He’s got something shiny in his hand. He’s positioned his tent slightly facing away from the fire, tonight, which leaves it facing your tent more than usual. He’s not, like, hiding, but he’s not out in the open as he holds up what you realize is a mirror.

Huh. Lots of different cultures have vampire lore; you wonder if the mirror thing is accurate. You got nothing better to do, so you find yourself trailing over, coming up behind him.

“Looking at something?” he says. It’s addressed to you, even though he hasn’t glanced over.

“Saw me coming?” you say.

He stares a moment longer, before turning. There’s no sparkle to his eyes, tonight. His lips are a straight line. “The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn’t make up for a lack of reflection, mind you.”

Ah. That part of the lore is true, then. Ouch.

“Sorry to hear that,” you say. “You must miss it.”

And then you want to kick yourself over how stupid that sounds.

“Preening into the looking glass? Petty vanity?” he says all flamboyant. Until he deflates. Until you see what might be a flash of sadness in him. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You didn’t know about the eye color thing. None of the others are anywhere nearby; you wonder if that’s why he’s letting this show. He’s never made so much as a peep that wasn’t joke-flirting, complaining, stabby, or bored.

“What color were they before?” you say. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“I—” he starts. Blinks a few times and there’s the barest shiver of, dare you call it, vulnerability in his face. “I don’t know. I can’t…remember.”

He stares out at nothing for a pause. Don’t got the presence of mind to slip the smarmy mask back on. It’s like he…like he just realized that. Doesn’t remember his own eyes.

Then his face shutters. Tight-lipped anger slips down and buries all traces of confused horror. He chucks the mirror to smash on the ground.

You try not to wince even as you take a step back.

“My face is just another dark shape in my past,” he says. Looks away. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can forget some details about your own face, sometimes. You don’t generally wear makeup (never learned, and then when you could, that shit is expensive), and your hair mostly sorts itself out when you comb conditioner through it in the shower. So you don’t see your reflection every day (the ladies room at the office don’t have a mirror—used to be a closet until the seventies or eighties when they converted it).

But you know your eyes are dark brown the way you know your own name. It’s just a fact about you. You can���t imagine what it would take to just…lose that.

“How long you been a vampire?” you say.

His gaze flits around a second. “About two hundred years, give or take. Things start to run together a little.”

Two…two hundred years? Under that fuckface? Without ever being able to see himself?

Holy fucking shit.

Holy fucking shit.

And yet, he’s standing here, traveling with all y’all, acting…well, not normal. But he ain’t catatonic. He’s only killed people when y’all were fighting already, and he only tried to bite you the once (without asking). He’s talking to you, and he makes jokes and…

And he said you were his first “thinking creature” blood.

In two hundred fucking years.

The kind of strength it would take to scrape himself together and hold in there…even if it was barely. Even if he wasn’t all there. You’d known that shit for over a decade. But two hundred motherfucking years.

You been staring. He notices, and turns to you. “What?”

The man teases you. Steals from goddamn refugees (he has got to stop that). And he hasn’t seen his face in two centuries. You can maybe afford to make a fool of yourself if the idea blooming in your brain makes a fool outta yourself.

“I can be your mirror,” you say, your neck heating up, trying not to squirm. “You don’t have to. Or I don’t have to. If I made this weird, that is. I can, uh, leave.”

His eyebrows twitch down into a micro frown. He stands there a hot second, sucks in a breath through his nose. His mask is slipping again, and the man underneath…

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” he says. “What, well, what you see.”

Slight emphasis on the “you” that you ain’t gonna read too much into.

A long face. Thick brows. A strong, straight nose. Thick lips, pointy chin, and floofy, white hair.

You ain’t never really described somebody in detail. Not like this, and not to their face directly. You ain’t a poet or an artist. This was probably a really bad idea.

“Your face is very, uh, symmetrical,” you say.

He pauses a moment, before drawing back. “Oh darling, you’re terrible at this.”

Fuck you, too!

“Well, I mean, it’s the most noticeable thing aside from the granny hair.”

And now he fucking recoils.

“What? I have the best hair in camp. If this is your idea of a joke—”

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” you say. It’s only kinda a lie. It’s granny hair, no two ways about it. “Your hair is very shiny and it looks real soft. The rest of you” —you wave your hand vaguely around— “looks good.”

“Really?” His usual smirk slips back on and he damn near purrs. Then he lifts his hands and gives a slow, little runway spin. “Anything in particular?”

Jesus lord. Man’s moods turn on a fucking dime and he cannot stop being a prima diva.

You think. What would you want to know about your own face? You got no idea how elves age or how old he was when he got bit. He looks young, in the dim light, but there’s an age to him, a smattering of fine lines at the corners of his eyes that you started noticing on yourself recently. You ain’t gonna mention how gaunt his cheeks are, even if they do make the bones stand out all high fashion or whatever. It ain’t a healthy look (any time anybody mentions native cheekbones, you have to bite back the little historical fact that a lot of those photos was of starving natives, of course their cheekbones stood out like that, their food sources were butchered, burned, or a thousand miles away after a forced march).

You’re gonna ask in the morning if Wyll can bring back what his snares catch before he field-dresses them, and ask Astarion if he wants the blood. Man needs to eat more often. Put some goddamn flesh on them bones (oh god, you sound like your aunties).

“You got these eye creases when you smile,” you say.

But he does not take that as the compliment you mean.

“Excuse me?” he says like you just called his mama ugly. “I’m an eternally young vampire, forever beautiful.”

Forever corpse-y.

“It’s a good thing.”

“It sounds an awful lot, my dear, like you just called me old.”

“You just said you was at least two hundred.”

He gestures down to himself. “Vampire. Come on, darling, you can do better than this sorry excuse.”

And then the man has the audacity to fucking pose. Hand on his hip. Shoulders swaying like some old-timey, rich debutante.

“This whole thing is just you fishing for compliments, huh?” you say.

He looks at you like you’re the weird one. “Well of course it is. Now don’t leave me waiting.”

You ain’t sure if this entire cluster started as a sham, or if it just naturally devolved into one (he’s very good at the latter). His frustration had seemed genuine, though. He wouldn’t meet your gaze for a time. And you’re picking up on a pattern: obfuscation. He gets all fussy and theatric right around the time you notice (or he notices, maybe) he’s expressing something that ain’t flirt or murder.

You…kinda want to see what he’s trying to hide. What’s actually under that mask you caught a glimpse of.

In any case, it’s funner to play along right now, so you don’t got to think about the bullshit waiting tomorrow.

What would a vain peacock like him want to hear?

“Your eyes,” you say. “They’re real sharp, especially when you’re focused on something. I think people call that ‘piercing.’”

He rolls said eyes. “Acceptable. Finally. Now just tell me I’m beautiful and we can end this travesty.”

And you can’t help yourself. “Well, Karlach is beautiful. You’re fine, though.”

The moment of truth. See if he’ll engage…

He gasps, but through a grin. Literally splays his fingers over his chest. “How dare you. I thought we had something special.”

Warmth flutters through you. You set the game down and he picked it up. He’s returning it. Holy shit, you went and established banter with a maybe-friend. It’s a damn good thing you got so much practice keeping your face blank.

He clucks his tongue. Nudges at you with his hip. “Still. You’re nice, too.”

Well that’s an overstatement. You are plain and plus sized, and it ain’t some false-modesty thing. If you ain’t in some colorful or flowery blouse, you can feel kids staring at the store. More than once you caught a, “Is that a boy or a girl” and a parent frantically shushing.

You’d always thought the boobs would be a giveaway (they ain’t subtle), but hey, baggy clothes.

Sailing too close to the rocky Shore of Truth. Time to veer back into the humor pool. You deadpan. “Oh good. The pretty boy thinks I’m acceptable. Now I won’t have to cry myself to sleep in shame.”

The smallest snort tears out of him. Seems to catch him off guard. But he quickly folds it under his mask and sighs. “I’d better go get some beauty sleep, darling. Seems like I need it if I’m to catch up with the competition.”

“You do that,” you say, letting a tiny grin crack your own stoic mask.

Which he returns.

Which is right when the ground in the middle of camp cracks open and some kinda hell goo burbles up, spinning in a vortex, before it bursts into flame. Out pops a winged demon lady with her tits half out.

***

Notes:

Hell week is done! Still tired, need recovery time to wash the spoons (this is a metaphor). But updates will continue because those get me through the week and there's Stuff coming up (the Sadness Arc). Probably gonna slap new warnings into the summary (which I'll tag on the chapters as they appear). But that won't be this week. Next chapter: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #feeding alligators fic #tavstarion #plus size tav #demisexual tav #these two shitheads #astarion fic #tavstarion fic

[snifflesthemouse]

Harry must be Dorothy, because AFRICA is his TOTO

So, it's running on Radar Online and OK Mag now that separation is happening. How true is it?

I have no idea. Neither can my source give me anything other than the following:

Charles is still funding Harry at the expense of saving face. He wants H away from Meghan, and there is talks in upper ladder rungs that there is a potential deal where MM stays in Hollywood.

They do not want H back, at all. Charles wants to control H's trapper keeper, and he wants that ginger mutt muzzled, so chances are the ideal sweetheart deal will be what we've seen being floated.

Meghan gets a sum, but not so substantial as many think. That comes with the proper agreements so that she behaves. My source told me a Fergie deal would likely never happen...

Charles cares about number uno, and my source is right in the point MM would never agree to behind-palace doors again. She wants to be seen.

If the rumors are true from what I am hearing and what I am seeing, coupled with what I was told...

Harry will go to Africa to live out his Commonwealth days as quietly as possible. Meghan will remain in the US to pursue being a star under terms and conditions.

Oh, and those rumors of Haz calling Wills... don't buy it. Haz may be speaking with the people that answer the calls, but he's not getting through to his brother.

The DM reported that Wills will be charging Charles rent whenever he comes to visit one of the Duchy of Cornwall cottages he bought that stayed with the Duchy... Charles isn't too happy. If Wills can charge the king rent, you bet he can ignore his petulent brother.

Also, rumors are that the super-injunction on the children is as permanent as permanent could be. No budging on that. No leaks from that end. Nobody wants that out, and I will save what "it" is out for sake of getting too personal.

Let's just say all of this is adding up to a stressful start to a hard reign, and Charles cares more about his reign than his red-head. He will support them because he cannot have the monarch's second son being labeled a grifter dying for freebies. How does that make them all look?

Harry won't be missing any rains in Africa. Meghan won't be going to film with him, either. Netflix didn't axe them like Spotify, as Harry has a documentary to do for them in Africa.

If there is a deal on the table, and this is ever going to happen, it is only because Charles is doing it to nip everything in the bud to save his own precious reputation.

And rumors are, Charles will do that at any expense. Even if letters patents are involved for certain situations that may or may not be related to anything to do, OR NOT do, with H&M.

Africa bound... Harry Alone in the Bush. Meghan may even get to be the next Bachelorette!

How exciting.

Again... ALL OF THIS IS SPECULATION AND HERESAY, as I am a gossip, and I don't know what I am talking about. Take it with a grain of royal salt. I am but a lowly rodent who has a knack for smelling out the cheese... and the rats.

P.S. I love every single one of you, and I appreciate your time!

P.P.S. I also appreciate my source, and I am committed to full anonymity. I've been specifically vague, hoping you could draw the lines, in order to protect their identity.

[warlordfelwinter]

maprico

narin has valid questions about his tenno friend

~1k

[ao3]

++

The sun was setting over the plains, bathing Cetus in warm golden light. The market still hummed with sounds—a chorus of voices and laughter, bells and chimes tinkling in the breeze, loud calls of animals, the soft strum of music. The air smelled of the sea, of meals being cooked, of fresh fish and incense and spices. A perfect, peaceful evening, before night fell and the Eidolons began their mournful howls.

Not that the Eidolons would break the peace for Narin. He had grown up falling asleep to their cries, safe within the Unum’s embrace. The night would likely be far less peaceful for the Tenno who sat next to him in the scrubby grass, overlooking the market. They would be leaving the wall after dark, going out to hunt the massive sentients.

Narin couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to do such a thing. He’d seen an Eidolon from a distance once and that was close enough for him. It was hard, looking at Juno, to reconcile the youthful face and stature with someone who could take down a beast of that size. But they were a Tenno. The warframe that knelt motionlessly behind them was proof enough of that. The warframe that Narin had thought was the Tenno for the longest time. But the Tenno were children. Younger than Narin and yet infinitely older.

Millennia… Another difficult thing to believe about Juno. If he looked past their luminous eyes and the marring of their somatics, they looked like any other teen. They looked the same age as him. And yet they’d been alive during the Orokin Empire. Something that was just distant history to Narin. Stories he’d been told.

They’d been in stasis, the way they told it. When they were controlling their warframe, they were on a ship, far from here, their body held in stasis while their mind roamed. They could leave it now, as evidenced by their presence next to him, and it made Narin wonder if they aged when they were outside.

He wondered about a lot of things, with Juno. At the moment, as he watched Juno idly scratching the ears of the kubrow that dozed in their lap, he wondered about food.

Narin popped a small piece of rubad into his mouth, chewing. He’d brought a plate up here with him, with sliced fruit and nuts and cheese, drizzled with spiced honey. It had clearly been meant to be shared and yet Juno hadn’t touched any of it. Maybe they were just being polite about food they didn’t like, but Narin wondered…

“Do you eat?”

Juno blinked and looked at him. “What?”

“Do you eat?” Narin repeated. “You know, like food.” He put a piece of cheese into his mouth, demonstrably.

“I know what food is,” Juno said, frowning, and decidedly not answering Narin’s question.

“So that’s a no…?” he asked, slowly.

They looked away, color rising to their cheeks. “It’s… a… I don’t know,” they said.

“You don’t know?” Narin asked, laughing. “How do you not know??”

“I mean, I don’t,” Juno said, looking at him again. “I don’t eat. I don’t remember… ever… eating, but I must have at some point… before…”

Narin rested his chin on his hand, looking at them curiously. “So your… stasis thing keeps you… full?” he guessed.

“I suppose so,” Juno said. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“So… can you eat?” Narin asked. “If you wanted to.”

Juno stared at him for a moment, thinking. “I… don’t know,” they said, eventually.

Narin picked up a piece of maprico and slowly held it up in front of Juno’s face, watching those unsettling glowing eyes briefly cross to focus on it before returning to Narin’s face. He waggled the piece of fruit enticingly.

“You should find out.”

Juno held his gaze for a moment before they took the fruit. With an amount of caution that was almost comical, they opened their mouth and placed it inside. Almost immediately, their eyes widened slightly and a soft noise of surprise escaped their throat. They chewed slowly, their expression slowly morphing from one of surprised pleasure to increasing distress.

“Mm!—mmrmh!—why does it burn?!” they managed to demand after swallowing. They doubled over, coughing, and Narin burst out laughing. The spice of the honey was quite mild for Ostron standards, but for someone who hadn’t eaten in millennia…

Juno glared at him, which only made him laugh harder.

“Sorry, sorry,” he giggled. “Here, the cheese helps—”

“No,” Juno said, batting his hand away. “I think I’m done with food.”

“Ai yo! Behold the mighty Tenno, defeated by a piece of spicy fruit,” Narin declared. “We are all doomed.”

Juno stuck their tongue out at him and then disappeared, dissolving into light and being pulled backward into their frame. They shifted and stood, Nezha’s figure moving as naturally as if it was Juno’s own body.

Narin glanced at the sky, realizing it had gotten dark as they’d been sitting here. “Time for the hunt?” he guessed.

They nodded. As if on cue, the ululation of an Eidolon split the quieting air.

“Sho-lah. Good luck. I’ll make harpu for you next time.”

“Like I’m going to trust you about food again,” they said, voice synthesized and strange coming through Nezha.

“That one’s a drink,” Narin said.

“Whatever.” They shifted back and step and then launched off the overlook, twisting mid-air and flipping, landing on a roof and sprinting lightly along cords and fabrics, hardly seeming to touch anything before they were jumping again, impossibly agile. Their kubrow dutifully ran down the hill and chased after them.

Narin waved, watching until they were out the doors, and then dropped back onto the grass, looking up at the darkening sky. He reached blindly for the plate and grabbed a piece of fruit, dropping it into his mouth and chewing, savoring the warmth of the spices. He snorted to himself.

“Some killing machine.”

#gonna start posting all my bullshit to ao3 again #that's what it's there for #i just forget #anyway i was wondering this myself about the tenno yesterday #like DO they eat #CAN they #how fucked is their digestive system after the void and being in stasis constantly #or whatever is going on with their bodies when they're in their frames #which must be some kind of stasis if they served the orokin for however long and never aged #warframe #fic #oc: juno #oc: narin