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seeingivy · 1 month

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better than revenge

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

previous part linked here

an: this is 11k and tweets on tweets. buckle in. if you find the typo in the tweets shut up

songs mentioned: see you again by tyler the creator ft. kali uchis, end game by taylor swift, and vampire by olivia rodrigo

The following morning, the buzzing energy in the townhouse is almost palpable. Not only because you’ve finally completed the set and the last four people have arrived – Erwin, Bertholdt, Ymir, and Historia – but it seems that your intense energy from the night prior seemed to have transferred over to everyone else.

You’re almost too embarrassed to walk downstairs to the frantic chatter – that coupled with the fact that you’ve heard Connie name drop you almost four times – and it seems that Eren seems to be feeling the same when you walk out into the hallway to find him awkwardly lingering by his door.

“Hey.”

Eren looks up, thrown out of his spiral of thoughts, as he gives you a smile and then looks down at your lip. It’s a little sore, the tiniest bit swollen from the tattoos that you got yesterday, and you can see that his is the same.

“Hi princess. How’s your lip?” Eren asks.

“Good. I guess I should be thankful that your name is only four letters and not nine letters like Bertholdt or something.”

Eren smiles.

“Let’s see it then.” Eren responds.

You oblige his request, pulling down to show him the inner of your lip and watch as he smiles at the little ink. He follows suit after, making a rather dramatic display of crouching down to your height before pulling his own lip and showing you his.

“You know, life really does imitate art. Because now, my name really will be forever on your lips.” you respond.

“I sure hope not. You’d be slashing my head off sometime in the near future if that were true.”

You smile.

“You know, that doesn’t sound that bad to me.”

“But you have to kiss me after. You know, if it were up to me, I think life should imitate art. Like at least ten times, for scientific purposes.” Eren responds, shrugging as he gestures for you to follow him.

You shake your head, inexplicably unable to respond to the harmless flirting this time around, as you gesture for him to join you downstairs. The two of you walk in tandem down the steps, sparing each other one last smile, before you get hounded by the likes of Connie and Jean.

And surely enough, the second you make it down to the kitchen and the dining table at the side, you’re met with the sight of Connie air-playing fan edits on the TV screen for everyone to watch.

You and Eren take the spot behind Connie on the couch, and Eren smacks him on the backside of his head, before you two watch the edit. It’s of Eren singing Glimpse of Us in the background, except the video’s edited to be showing videos of him and Hyla, before juxtaposing them with videos of him and you.

“Speak of the fucking devils. Don’t tell me you actually got matching lip tattoos? I’m half convinced you assholes are just lying to piss me off at this point.” Connie asks.

The two of you look over and grin at each other.

“Why are you watching fancams of us on the TV?” you ask.

“Edit accounts are a form of art. Look at this one.” Connie responds, sliding to the next video on his phone.

This one is in a similar vein, videos of you and Eren from the red carpet to the backdrop of you singing Style. You’re not sure what it is, but the video fills you with an insurmountable amount of joy, especially when Connie scrolls up the comments – most of them being about how people can’t stand how Eren seems to look at you.

“Connie. Why have you watched this entire YouTube video?” Eren asks, pointing to the little thumbnail at the side.

You follow the line of vision to where he’s pointing to an hour long video, entitled “eren and y/n creating love for an hour straight.”

“There’s no way you watched that entire thing.” you respond.

“Watched it? Bitch, I recorded half of those videos for Y/N-Jaegers back in the day. Please put some respect on my name.” Connie sneers, as he leans forward to put the video on.

You turn to Eren, as the gears start turning in your head. You can tell that he’s following your lead – in fact, thinking the same exact thing as you – as you discuss it over.

“I mean, kind of makes sense. S’how we did it the first time.” Eren responds.

“I’d argue that it’s almost poetic to do it the same way. Plus, the resurgence of Y/N-Jaegers would be crazy, just for PR sake.”

“I agree.”

Eren reaches forward, yanking on Connie’s ear to catch his attention. He leans back, before swatting Eren off, and standing to face the two of you.

“Do you have your phone, Connie?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.” Connie responds.

“Then, use it.” Eren responds.

You give him a grin, waiting for Connie – who albeit, in his confusion lifts his phone – before you both pull down your lips and show off your new tattoos. You watch as Connie’s eyes nearly boggle out of head as he moves closer to the two of you, his excited voice filling the entire room as the group of them all start huddling around you.

Mai and Mikasa look positively appalled, quietly whispering about how painful that must have been, while Reiner and Sasha break out into their own side tangent about how oppressive lip tattoos must be since they limit your food options so greatly.

You and Eren laugh as you shuffle back into the kitchen, leaving the group of them to their devices as Connie uploads the video, and the two of you reach for the yogurt in the fridge. The piping hot, spicy ramen seemed like it was just going to burn your entire lip off, so you decided against that for today.

You lean forward to read the little schedule on the fridge, though the filming is considerably light for the week. Considering the fact that almost everyone was here now, or arriving within the next hour, you were going into serious rehearsals for the ensemble showcase that you had planned. Though you were really only in it for one verse.

Wednesday, March 27th, 10:00

Eren and Y/N - REDACTED #1

You frown.

“What the hell is redacted number one?”

Eren spins to the side, crouching down so his chin is just hovering over your shoulder. And the fact that he lowers his voice, to the gravelly octave, makes the hair on your arms stand up on its ends.

“Levi not talk to you about this yet?”

“No. We’re too busy talking about award show stuff. You know how he loves to lecture.”

Eren looks over at you, his eyes borderline smoldering, as you can’t help but look away. It was getting harder and harder to look at Eren after your godforsaken realization last night.

“From what I hear, what they’re lecturing you about is actually very valid.” Eren responds.

You scoff.

“You know, they’re so annoying. I’d appreciate it if they kept my conversations with them as private as they keep their conversations with you.” you respond.

“Well, they were actually trying to get me to convince you to not use your triple threat performance on me. Not when you’re already performing twice that day, with me at the centerpoint.” Eren responds.

When you had first pitched your idea for the awards show to them – and humbly begged them to give their ensemble showcase moment up to include the Jujutsu Kaisen cast – you had let them know that your intentions were from the get go.

And when Eren had created the perfect segway for them with the song requests, Hange had slipped theirs in a week prior with maybe the most difficult request that you had been given yet.

write a song about danny and sareen

And even more than just writing it, Hange had made it very clear that they were expecting you to sing it at the award’s show at the end when you finally got to do your triple threat performance. That you couldn’t sing another song about Eren, when winning that award, was always going to be about them.

Hange’s more theatrical than Levi. Because Levi just gave you the cue card that they have read off of that night, that had your name on it. But Hange had gone the full ten miles and given you the little trophy that you never even got to hold, with the note that came attached from the Institute.

You can still see it now in the dull, gold looping.

Dear Y/N, Danny, and Sareen, Congratulations on your accomplishment! Included in the box is the trophy and a golden glass case to display it in. Please call the offices on Glass Avenue to discuss timings for interviews and your performance at one of our four award shows next year. Best, The Institute

And annoyingly enough – despite the fact that it was your name on the trophy, their names were inscribed on the box.

It was enough to irritate you into writing the song that Hange wanted you to sing. And at this point, you were itching to give them a run for their money too.

“They didn’t need you to convince me. I gave in eventually.” you respond.

Eren shrugs, before dipping his own spoon into your yogurt. Eren had instinctively given up the last strawberry one because it’s your favorite, but clearly, wasn’t very attached to his decision.

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to make it about Danny and Sareen in the first place.” Eren responds.

You shrug, leaning against the back of the fridge. The metal is cold on your back, as you let the freezing cold yogurt soothe the burning in your mouth.

“Well, I only came back here for Marco. Because he won’t ever get to act again. Then when I started to do this, I was only doing it for you – because you did it for me first.” you respond.

“And now?”

“I thought back to what Historia had said to me, when she finally dragged me out of that house the first time. She had brought up Hange’s speech, the one way back when that made me even interested in acting in the first place. About showing the real you and all that.” you respond.

“And?” Eren asks.

“Well, Hange brought that up to me, when I originally said I wanted the third song to be about you. Not that you’re not important to me, but…being a triple threat was what I always wanted. And really at the core of it, I just wanted to be as unapologetic as Hange was. I guess when they put it that way, it was almost stupid not to make the song about them when they’re the one who got to take the sanctity of that award away from me.”

Eren smiles. And before he can respond, you’re tackled by two pairs of arms nearly strangling you around your neck, your line of vision telling you that Eren’s experiencing the same bombardment. Ymir and Bertholdt are shaking his entire frame and jumping at his side – and your ears don’t deceive you when you hear Historia and Erwin bellowing in your ear.

You pull back, wrapping your hands around Historia’s face.

“You crazy bitch. Don’t tell me you actually got a fucking tattoo again?” Historia asks.

You grin, pulling down your lip to show the group of them.

“Well, I’d be a fucking liar if I said that.” you respond.

Erwin, in his theatrics, places a hand over his chest and the other one on the top of your head.

“That’s my girl. Always had such a sound moral compass.” Erwin responds.

You can’t help but wrap your arms around him as Erwin lifts his hand and gestures for Eren to join him at the other side. He still smells the same – the lingering scent of Old Spice deodorant and a very husky perfume. And when he pulls back, you can’t help but feel your heart squelch when he puts a hand on both of your cheeks and beams down at you two.

“You’ve always been our little trail blazers, you two. I’m so proud of you two.”

You turn to Eren and smile, before looking back at Erwin.

“We’re proud of you too, Erwin!” Eren responds.

You turn your head to the side, giving Eren a confused look.

“Don’t flatter me, Eren. I’m not above crying in front of you children.” Erwin responds.

“I’m offended you would even think that, Erwin. Don’t you know who I am?” Eren responds.

You shake your head as you turn towards Ymir and Bertholdt at your side and leave Eren and Erwin to hype each other up for what was probably going to be the next thirty minutes at your side. You had already given up trying to understand Eren and Erwin’s relationship years prior.

“Hey, kid.” Ymir says.

“I’m older than you.” you respond.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I have someone I want you to meet.” Ymir responds.

You follow her line of vision to the opening of the kitchen, to find someone lingering against the frame of the door. There’s a girl standing there, with tan skin and a short pixie cut – nervously knitting her fingers together. She’s smiling at you, rather brightly, and you can't help but feel like you’ve met her before.

“Y/N. This is Sofia, my fiance. Sofia, this is Y/N.” Ymir states, gesturing for the two of you to shake hands.

You oblige, her hand warm and the shake firm, as you try to hide the shock in your face. With the rush of everything that was going on, the information that Mikasa had shared with you days prior had been floating around in the back of your mind but you were never able to ask Eren to put it to rest.

And now there was another lingering question mark hanging.

That Ymir had proposed to Historia, but that she said no. That she begged her and Historia couldn’t bring herself to do it. But even despite that, they were still sleeping on the same mattress when you came back for the first time, for Marco’s funeral.

And now she’s engaged to someone else.

“Hi Sofia. My name is Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Her eyes light up as she squeezes your hand, which you now realize is still locked in with hers, as you look back up at her and smile.

“It’s really nice to meet you too.” she responds.

“You know, you look really familiar, but I can’t exactly place why.” you murmur.

You look to your side to find Ymir grinning at Sofia, as Sofia can’t help but groan in response.

“I told you she would remember you.” Ymir states.

“That doesn’t count as remembering me! A lot of people can look familiar to people!” Sofia responds.

You smile, rubbing your palms together, as you look at the two of them. The thought of Historia a few feet away talking to Jean and Mikasa has you sweating, nervously passing your eyes over just to make sure that she wasn’t watching the entire interaction go down.

“Have I met you before?” you ask.

Sofia sighs, the slightest pink tint in the apples of her cheeks.

“This is so embarrassing. I met you and Eren a couple years back, at one of those conventions with the panels and stuff and –”

The recognition is instant.

“Oh my god! You were wearing a shirt with my face on it! With your sister, right?” you respond.

“I fucking told you she would remember! She has really good memory.” Ymir responds, this time goading her on.

You shake your head at Ymir, before placing your hands on both of her biceps and squeezing.

“Sofia, wait. I really remember that because it actually meant the world to me at the time. I’m sure you…know about Scott Clarkson and all that mess and –”

“I want that man dead and I’m so serious.” Sofia deadpans.

You laugh.

“You and me, both. But yeah, that day was actually the first time that Eren and I had ever met him in person. And the entire event in general was just so uncomfortable and left a weird taste in my mouth and you…you really made me feel like I was doing something important and I actually thought about it for a really long time.” you respond.

Sofia smiles, before she reaches forward and wraps her arms around you. The embrace is overwhelmingly warm, as you eye Ymir behind her back, who's just shaking her head at her demeanor, almost insinuating that this was what she did all the time.

“I’m really glad. I really meant what I said back then and I’ve always been a big supporter all this time. You’re really brave and courageous and –” Sofia stars.

“Okay, Sof. Enough. You’re going to make poor Y/N’s head bigger than it already is.” Ymir groans, as you turn back to your side.

“That’s really sweet of you. How is your sister?” you ask.

You’re not sure what it is, but it’s almost like you’ve thrown ice on the little warmth that was pooling in the conversation. Because her face slightly droops and Ymir’s quick to put a hand on her shoulder in comfort.

“Ah. She passed away a few years ago.” Sofia mumbles.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up and –”

She smiles, enough to give you the faintest glimpse of her dimples. They remind you of Eren.

“That’s okay. That’s actually where I met Ymir. At the grief group.” she responds.

“You went to a grief group?” you ask.

“Well, not originally. I was there with a friend, a while before Marco died. Met her there. We were already dating when Marco passed away, but…we just figured it wasn’t the best idea for Sofia to come to the funeral with…you know. Historia.” Ymir responds.

So why did she sleep with Historia on the mattress?

“I’m glad you’re here with us now. It’s really nice to meet you. And I love weddings, if Ymir can humble herself enough to invite me to hers.” you respond.

“Shut up, bitch. You’re so annoying.” Ymir responds.

That’s what she says. But it sounds more like are you crazy? Of course, you’re invited.

“Anyways, I hope you come to set later. Eren and I are going to be filming something if you want to watch.”

“For sure. I’d love to see it.” Sofia responds.

You look over your shoulder to find Levi, Hange, and Eren waiting near the edge of the kitchen island, gesturing for you to come over now that you’ve caught their attention. And as the four of you embark out towards the set, Levi explains what redacted scenes are to you.

You spare Historia one last glance as you walk off the set and can’t help but feel a bitter taste in your mouth at the longing look she’s giving Ymir.

“You know, this sounds an awful lot like method acting to me.” you murmur, spotting the sly grin on Levi’s face.

“Eren told me not to call it that. He said you might strangle me. Or him. Or both of us combined.”

“He would be right about that.” you respond.

He’s leaning against the edge of the vanity, as the makeup team tasks themself with drying and prepping your hair to perfection, while Levi coaches you through what you now understand are the two redacted scenes that Levi has asked you and Eren to film.

You just think it’s lazy script writing. Levi thinks you’re annoying for calling it that.

With your combined permission of course, Levi has decided to let you method act through the two scenes that he originally had planned out. While he was allegedly entirely faithful in your ability to deliver lines, he wanted to see if what the two of you could produce out of real shock, in the moment as your characters, was something better than what he could write.

Hence, the vague scene that you and Eren were going to be filming. To your understanding, the pair of them were each going to give you and Eren a set of prompts and you were just supposed to act your way through the scene based on what they told you to do.

“Can I know my prompt then?” you ask.

“You understand, right?” Levi clarifies.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just supposed to go based on what you tell me.”

Levi hops off of the counter, this time leaning closer so that you can actually make eye contact with him in your line of vision.

“But really. I don’t care how badly you want to say something else. You…you have to go based on the direction that I tell you.” Levi responds.

It’s almost annoying, the way he’s coddling you through the entire thing.

“Okay, I get it. This is my entire job, you know?” you respond.

Levi scoffs.

“Fine. Eren’s going to ask you something. I want you to shoot him down.” Levi states.

You lean your head to the side, much to the annoyance of the makeup artist, who moves your neck back into place. You shoot her an apologetic smile, before thinking back to Levi.

“You want me to shoot him down?” you ask.

“He’s going to ask you something. Or insinuate it – and no matter how badly you want to do whatever it is, you have to tell him no.”

Levi gives you a curt nod before he walks back out to the set to put things in place, as you put the outfit resting on the hangar on. You reach up to mess with the little fringe of your bangs, pulling down the undershirt and the jacket as you prepare yourself for the scene.

When you walk out on set, the group of them are all sitting on the sidelines, giving you excited smiles. You give Sofia a little wave at the front of the sidelines, returning the little finger hearts that Gabi and Falco point towards you as you reach for your cue.

And when Levi calls action, the lights on the entire set dimming and the chatter breaking down to silence, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you see Eren at the top of the little landing, his back facing towards you.

“Eren! Everyone has been looking everywhere for you!”

At the sound of your voice, Eren lifts his hand to his face and sniffles, almost like he’s wiping away tears, before you stand at his side. He refuses to meet your eyes and now that you’re standing at his side, you’re not sure how you missed this before.

They cut Eren’s hair.

A small part of it – because it’s out of the usual man bun that he’s been sporting since you came back to set and instead loosely frames the sides of his face.

It might be your favorite look yet. And all you can do is stare.

He still refuses to meet your eye, withholding it from you. You follow his gaze to the bottom of the landing, to see the kid that Levi had introduced you to a week prior, who was going to play Ramzi in the script. You had yet to film the scene – since you’re almost positive that Levi was going out of order at this point to save time and note it.

“The boy from the market? What happened?” you ask.

“Nothing yet.” Eren responds.

Eren’s voice has that same gravel, almost hollow, like he did the day that you filmed the table scene. It’s almost haunting when his voice sounds like that – so devoid of motion and strained that it makes your chest pang.

You wonder if that’s what he sounded like in the years that you didn’t talk.

“What do you mean? Wh-what is this place?” you ask.

“After the war left them with no home, they all gathered here to live. They’re just like us.”

Eren’s throat bobs at your side and you can feel his eyes clenching in your peripheral vision.

“One day, their regular lives ended and everything was taken away from them. They were deprived of all of their freedoms.” Eren states.

And almost in a split second, Eren finally averted his gaze from looking down and meets your eyes for the first time. You’re not sure what it is – surely something from the makeup team that’s making his eyes look fuller, rounder – but the eye contact is almost excruciating this time. Your first instinct is to turn away.

“Y/N. Why do you care so much about me?”

You can feel your cheeks burning. That was the last thing you were expecting him to say.

“Huh?” you repeat.

“Is it because I saved you when we were little? Or is it because I’m your family?”

You swallow hard, the block in your throat stifling. It’s almost like you can’t even push air out of it, like you’re opening your mouth to try and nothing can make it past – enough to fill you with a panic like you won’t ever speak again. Because you have the faintest inkling of what’s going to come next…why Levi was so adamant on asking if you would be able to follow his instructions.

“I-”

“What am I to you?” Eren asks.

Everything.

It’s the first word that comes to mind when he asks.

“Ev–”

You pause, as you feel the sweat accumulating on the edge of your hairline, fighting the urge to reach up to wipe it off. Levi’s voice is excruciating in your head.

He’s going to ask you something. Or insinuate it – and no matter how badly you want to do whatever it is, you have to tell him no.

It’s almost painful. Having to say it when it isn’t true. When in reality, you know that you’re acting and Eren knows that you’re acting too – that this is just part of your job. But to even strike him down in the fake way, after weeks of building it back together, seems cruel.

You sigh, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, before you look back up at his eyes. The deep green is enough to accumulate the thinnest film of tears in your eyes.

“You’re family, Eren.”

And after you mutter it, it’s visceral…an almost physical reaction from Eren. Because you can see the way his breath hitches, the way he hesitantly steps back – quite literally physically recoiling. And the regret sits heavy in your chest and you have to drop your eyes – because you can’t even bear to look at him.

“Cut!” Levi calls.

It’s enough to snap you out of the heaviness, as you shake your head at the resounding amount of chatter that follows. You can still feel your heart racing as the makeup team is quick to rush to your side – quickly powdering the sweat that had accumulated on your cheek as they do the same with Eren – and you can hear Connie and Reiner mumbling about how brutal that was to watch on the side.

You look back up at Eren, whose hollow look hasn’t left his eyes and you give him a halfhearted smile – which he doesn’t return. Instead, he turns back to Levi and Hange, who are murmuring over the shot in the viewfinder.

“Did we get it?” Eren nearly shouts.

“We got it. You killed it guys.” Levi responds, still fixated on the shot.

“Do you still need me or can I go?” Eren asks.

“Eren–”

“You’re good, Eren.” Hange responds.

Eren’s almost too quick with it, the way he yanks the little mic pack off the little sleeve in his jacket and hands it to the crew. And with his long bean stalk legs, he’s disappeared from your side before you can barely even process that he was standing there in the first place.

You can’t bring yourself to talk to Eren until two days later, on the eve of his birthday and two days before the award show. Not because you’re actively avoiding him, but it seems that he gets so wrapped up in quite literally everything else he has to attend to. Though really, it feels like that the slight air of comfort that you had was completely shattered by filming the scene together.

There’s a quiet knock on Eren’s door. He’s preemptively pissed off…and the quiet irritation that had been festering in his chest for the last few days was about to come to a head on Connie and Lana, who refused to take a hint.

He had made it infinitely clear that he wanted to spend the early hours of his birthday alone. That he would be fine and dandy to celebrate with everyone the day after, but he needed the time to process some things alone.

The tension diffuses when he realizes that it’s you at the door. There’s an almost timid look on your face, as you balance a little white box in your hands, and peek your head past the closet.

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No, of course not. Come in.” Eren responds, patting flat on the comforter for you to join him at his side.

You give him a smile as you set the little box down, crossing your legs over each other to sit at his side. You lock your hands into the pits of your knees as you turn over towards him, taking a second chance to admire that his hair is the slightest bit shorter.

“I really love your hair, Eren.” you respond.

There’s an immediate flush in the apples of his cheeks. He reaches up to it, nervously pushing a hand through the strands before he drops it all together.

“Thank you. The length was starting to get really fucking annoying.” Eren responds.

“I liked the man-bun but I think this type of thing really suits you.” you respond.

Eren looks over at you and gives you a halfhearted smile. And that quiet ease returns, maybe faster than Eren would have liked. The quiet moment of hurt that he was holding on to was absolved the second you smiled at him.

Eren can hear Connie’s voice in his head – calling him down horrendous.

“What can I do you for?” Eren asks.

“It’s almost your birthday.” you state.

“Congratulations, Y/N. You know how to read a calendar!”

You scoff, before lightly shoving him in his side.

“Shut up. I wanted to do something for you.” you respond, before lightly pushing the box in front of him.

Eren gives you a weary look, before he opens up the little box. It’s a frosted green and white cake – with four candles in it. It’s a strange arrangement since they’re all numbered candles, making the number 2,345.

“I guess I stand corrected. You really don’t know how to read a calendar.” Eren responds.

Eren turns to the side, with the most annoying look on his face, as he turns to you and grins.

“Okay, Y/N. Repeat after me. The year is 2024.”

“Shut up, asshole. I was trying to be sweet.” you grumble, as you hike your knees to your chest.

Eren rolls his eyes.

“What’s so sweet about getting the age wrong on my cake?” Eren asks.

“It’s actually to make up for every birthday of yours that I missed, dumbass.” you respond.

Eren can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“What?” Eren asks.

You shrug, before reaching down to adjust the candles from pushing into each other.

“The last birthday I got to spend with you was your twenty-second birthday. I can imagine that the years’ that followed weren't exactly pleasant…that…that they might have been a reminder of what happened on the beach.” you start.

That was the understatement of the year.

“And it’s my fault that I missed your birthday. So, I thought that…we could make them up now. Hence the candles for three and four, for your twenty-third and twenty-fourth birthday. And today’s your twenty-fifth…it’s the least that I could do.” you respond.

Eren thinks it’s rather unfair that he always seems to be at a loss of words when he’s with you. Instead of being able to spill out what was really racketing through his brain – that it was getting infinitely harder to swallow down his feelings, that this was almost melting the resolve that he had made with himself to let you make the first move – he opens up his arms instead.

You oblige, leaning forward and resting your chin against his shoulder, as you feel Eren scoop his arms around your waist. It’s almost like he’s resting his entire body weight on you, because you can feel his face digging into the softness of your neck, as you absentmindedly reach up for his hair, feeling the edges that were just freshly cut. The faint scent of the hairdressing spray still lingers.

He’s quiet for sometime, but it’s only fitting that when he does break the silence, it’s with something annoying.

“A cake with no plates is crazy, Y/N.” Eren mumbles.

You laugh, as you reach inside the box for the two forks you tucked inside the box. You hand him one, as he tucks the ends of his hair behind his ears, and looks up at you.

“Game plan. You eat all the frosting and I’ll eat all the cake.” Eren states.

“Huh?”

“Okay, that’s a little selfish. But it’s my birthday. And I just really hate frosting.”

The thought that comes to your mind is enough to startle you, just in the slightest.

Eren really is your soulmate.

It’s stupid. A stupid comparison to make when the person that you’re comparing him to is Ricky James of all people. But you can’t help but think about that stupid memory, from before the Met Gala. Ricky had bought you that stupid cupcake – and very irritatingly swiped the frosting off of your finger.

And the two of you bickered because you both preferred the frosting as opposed to the actual cake. And naturally, Ricky was never going to be the type to give up his frosting for you.

It was sweet that way, with Eren. And you’re sure that the thought of invisible strings and single threads of gold tying you to Eren are really only on your mind because that’s what you sang to him the last time you got to spend his birthday with him, but it almost seems too perfect.

That Eren likes the cake, but you like the frosting. That you’d always finish the cake if you were eating it together.

Unbeknownst to you of course, Eren is fully aware of the fact that you are overly fond of the frosting on the cake. And that you have no idea that he really hates eating the spongy cake part and prefers the frosting too.

But he doesn’t like the frosting nearly enough to not even think twice before offering it to you.

You only grace the red carpet for five minutes. You and Eren are above that at this point. But from what you were able to discern from Twitter backstage, after practicing your first set with Eren, it was eventful enough without you there.

Sukuna splashed a glass of wine in Ricky’s already swollen eye from last week. Hyla tripped and fell when she got out of the limo. You and Eren spend a good amount of time reading through the stuff on your feed – and the perfectly timed blind items that you had submitted to every paparazzi company but the WBS were coming out just as you planned them.

And surely enough, every single one of them was getting caught off guard when they were asked on the carpet – and couldn’t scramble a perfect PR response out.

There were three blind items that were yours and the rest were strays. And you were fully intent on making sure that everyone, Danny and Sareen, knew that it was you who submitted them by the end of the night.

First, that Ricky James had thrown an insanely murderous bitch fit at the front of the Institute Offices in New York when he found out that he had been replaced as the opening act, by Eren of all people.

Which, according to your sources, was true.

Second, that the producer for the critically acclaimed Ribbons album, Sareen Clarkson, had been cheating on her husband with industry plant John Stasny, who is twenty years her junior and had previously been linked to several famous actresses, like Historia Reiss.

Which was also true. It had only been a few hours since it had been leaked, but the shit train that followed wasn't pretty.

If you were going to call her a fame fucker, you were going to make sure that everyone was going to understand the reference.

And the third was that stupid magazine cover that Scott had mailed you and Eren.

This was seemingly the last pillar that had to fall in taking down Scott Clarkson and his empire – or at least putting the tiniest bit of a dent in it.

The only reason that the WBS was successful in the first place was the same reason that his label and movie company thrived the way they did – they were big enough to eliminate all the competition.

But when it came to something like a tabloid, that centered around reporting on drama, it was almost natural to take them down in this way. If they were the only ones that lacked the information, then they’d be the only ones who would drop the ball on reporting it – and therefore, people would have to divert their attention away to someone else to get the information.

The foundation seemed a bit bare, but you were already too far in to oppose it at this point.

You feel a little tap on your shoulder and you turn around to find the two people who were going to be accompanying you for your first performance.

The dopplegangers of you and Eren – from the Girlfriend and Because I Liked a Boy Performance.

“Hi guys!”

You reach forward and wrap your arms around both of them as they return the gesture and warmly hug back. Thankfully, they were more than happy to oblige with your second request – third for Penelope if you counted Girlfriend – to pretend to be you and Eren.

You almost felt bad for marking this as their legacy so many times, but they were more than happy to oblige – citing the free food and the hefty paychecks as more than enough compensation.

“Right, well. Eren, this is Penelope.” you state.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ve met before. Hi.” Eren responds, the look on his face so painstakingly awkward that you almost feel bad for the prank that you’re about to play on him.

“And this is Scott.” you respond.

It’s insanely bad timing, since you accidentally mention it while Eren’s taking a swig of his water bottle. And due to the shock, he consequently spits the entire contents back into the bottle and gives the three of you wide eyes.

“Your name is fucking Scott?”

“No, it’s Jason. Y/N paid me three bucks to say that.” he states.

Eren looks at you, giving you a downright murderous glare, as he puts the water bottle down.

“You bitch.” Eren grumbles

“It’s funny!” you respond.

You shake him off as you turn back to Jason and Penelope and eye the little wardrobe rack on the side.

“Okay. Hair and makeup is ready for you two whenever you are. And just remember, that if anyone asks you about the outfits –”

“Mine is based on Selene, goddess of the moon.” Penelope states.

“And mine is Poseidon, god of the sea.” Jason adds.

You grin. The two of them give you a passing wave before they walk off to the other side of the stage and Eren makes a dramatic display of shuddering.

“What?”

“Don’t they like…freak you out?” Eren asks.

“Why would they freak me out?”

“They literally look like us! And they’re literally dating too which makes it even weirder!”

You give him a weird look.

“They aren’t dating.” you respond.

Eren wraps his arm around your shoulder, before twisting you to the side of where their dressing rooms are – where the two of them are standing, kissing.

“That looks really friendly to me.” Eren states, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What the hell?”

“It’s weird!” Eren whispers.

You shiver.

“Ew. I don’t like that.” you respond.

“Levi should hire them to do the kiss next week instead of us. Sure, they’ll enjoy it more than we will.”

You can feel your cheeks burning. You know that it’s not what he meant – surely, that it couldn’t have been what he meant in the slightest but the sting still hits all the same.

“Jesus. Didn’t realize you were so opposed to kissing me.” you mumble.

Eren’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not opposed to kissing you!”

“You just suggested that Levi and Hange should literally offer a salary to two people who kind of look like us just so you wouldn’t have to kiss me.” you deadpan.

“No! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Well…don’t be weird about it! You don’t have to…want to kiss me. I know we’re just working and that it’s all like method acting or whatever. I’m not going to get offended if you don’t want to it’s just–”

Eren looks agitated. If Sukuna was standing here, you know that he would have no self control and probably piss him off more by asking him if he needed to take a shit.

“Y/N, just listen. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable because I wrote a kiss into the script and told Levi and Hange that they can’t write it out this time.” Eren responds.

And just as fast as his eyes go wide, his cheeks are bright pink this time as he suddenly busies himself with worrying about his costume to change the subject.

It’s a hopeful thought and you’re clearly speaking faster than you’re thinking. Because it’s probably against your better judgment to assume that he wrote the kiss in just because he wanted to kiss you.

You say it anyway.

“You wrote the kiss into the script?” you ask, giving him a grin.

“My costume seems like it’s going to be tight, right? It looks a little short at the legs? We should see if we can get this fixed in the next twenty minutes before we go on, so I don’t look like an idiot, you know?”

You place a hand on his shoulder, to stop him from bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, and keep him standing on the ground.

“You can relax. I was just messing with you. And your outfit looks fine, I think we should change now so we can make sure I don’t go swinging into the audience with the equipment.”

Eren waits for you to finish changing before you walk over to the little makeshift hang-glider that you guys requested. He chooses to ignore commenting about how much he loves it when you wear red for the time being and focuses on making sure you don’t plummet to your imminent death from the moon you’re going to be hanging off of.

Eren watches as you shuffle on the little seat, before he reaches around you and secures the little belt around your waist. You watch as he tightens it not only twice, but three times, before he reaches for your hand and secures the microphone around it next.

“You know, I understand securing me to the moon but I think the microphone is a little much. I’m not going to go dropping it.”

“I’m sorry for being overcautious. I’m not a big fan of…stints that include hanging in the air for so long.” Eren responds, as tightens the strap around your hand again.

You pale. Of course he hates these type of things.

“No. No…I’m sorry. I totally forgot about that…I-I didn’t even realize that this might be really nerve wracking for you. We can take this part out if–”

“No, no. I like the set design. How about you just promise to come back to me in one piece?” Eren asks.

You sigh.

“Of course.”

And Eren gives you a gleaming, two dimpled smile in response, before he taps your side and walks over to his cue. As they send your little glider into the air, you can actually see the entire audience from the little break in the curtains at the top – and can spot a very annoyed Ricky James sitting front and center.

With pink wine stains on his shirt.

You look down at Eren, who looks up from his spot, and spares you one last thumbs up before the music stats.

You have to give your props to Eren’s team for working out the set exactly as he wanted it. With the ocean on the left, you in the moon on the right, and Jason and Penelope doing their little slow dance on the beach in the middle.

Eren: You live in my dream state Relocate my fantasy I stay in reality You live in my dream state Any time I count sheep That's the only time we make up, make up You exist behind my eyelids, my eyelids Now I don't wanna wake up

Eren: 20-20, 20-20 vision Cupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision I wonder if you look both ways When you cross my mind (Yeah), I said, I said I'm sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing You're the one that's always running through my daydream, I I can only see your face when I close my eyes

And surely enough, they lower you from your little vantage point behind the curtains to the bright flashing lights and the resounding cheers of the crowd – that are barely muffled out by your ear pieces – as you sing your part.

Y/N: Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I'm 'bout to go to war And I don't know if I'ma see you again

As Eren sings his second verse, they’re quick to lift the moon back up and off the stage in time for you to climb off – and for you and Eren to replace Jason and Penelope on the beach in the center.

You and Eren hadn’t really practiced this part, though in hindsight it was simple enough. You just had to keep leaning in until they dimmed the lights – to make it look like you and Eren were going to kiss each other.

Y/N: Can I get a kiss? (Can I get a kiss?) And can you make it last forever? (Oh, forever) I said I'm 'bout to go to war (Go to war) I don't know if I'ma see you again (See you again) Can I get a kiss? (Can I) And can you make it last forever? (Can you) I said I'm 'bout to go to war ('Bout to) And I don't know if I'ma see you again

It’s excruciating to do it. To pretend – and in that second, you decide you’re going to kiss him anyways. Because he wraps his hand too perfectly around your neck to pull you closer and instinctively closes his eyes.

And then it’s overwhelmingly embarrassing. Because the exact second you time moving forward is when Eren leans back, because they’ve pulled the curtains. And runs off to the side curtains, as you awkwardly stalk back.

You try to swallow down that pit of shame in your throat as he turns back towards you, handing you an ice cold water bottle.

“That was great! But was it really hot up there? Your face is all pink.” Eren asks.

“Uh, yeah. I kind of had a panic up there.”

Eren twists the cap off and instructs you to drink, biting cold enough to taper that burning heat in your cheeks, as he instinctively shakes his head.

“I said come back in one piece.”

“I am in one piece.” you grumble back, getting ready to go stalk off to your dressing room until you had to face him again four performances later.

Eren doesn’t follow when you make it all the way to the little room, as you lean back in the chair and resort to massaging your temples.

Too close. That was way too close.

“Hey?” Eren asks.

You can see Eren poking his head into your dressing room, bright green eyes curious as he looks down at you.

“What?” you ask.

“The answer is yes.” Eren responds.

You glare, in irritation.

“To what?”

Eren bends down, pressing a kiss right into the thrumming pulse of your temple.

“You asked me if you could get a kiss. Well really, you asked me seven times if you could get a kiss, but I’ll spare you the entire show.” Eren responds, tapping the frame of the door and giving you a bright smile before he steps back out.

You sigh. The quiet moment of hurt that you were holding on to was absolved the second he smiled at you. And multiplied into the biggest, searing feeling in your chest when he kissed you.

There’s seven people in your dressing room after the fact. And one of them is Satoru Gojo, who counted as an additional ten people, which is when you take the sign that it’s probably time to duck out of there.

You had three options – Connie and Eren who were having way too much fun with your special props, a group that had both Historia and Ymir in it, or Sukuna – who was standing by himself in the corner.

There was a very obvious choice.

He gives you a noncommittal nod as you walk up to his side and link your arm in with his. He’s nursing a tiny glass in his hand, which he offers to you. You know him well enough by now to know that it’s going to be some taste buds descreating drink, but decide to drink anyway.

And surely enough, it burns all the way down to your esophagus, making you physically recoil as you hand the glass back to him.

“Jesus. I feel bad for your liver.” you respond.

“I actually don’t drink that much anymore. My liver is just fine.” Sukuna responds.

“There’s no way. That just destroyed like…a quarter of your lobule.”

“What the fuck is a lobule?”

“The functional unit of the liver!” you respond.

If looks could kill, Sukuna would have murdered you then and there. It’s at that moment that Eren and Connie run up to you, Eren quickly placing his hands on your cheeks to angle your face up towards him and place the little crown on your head.

“Très magnifique!” Eren murmurs.

“Wow. Who taught you French, Ratatouille?”

“Does that count as a self-diss? You taught me French, ma lune.”

You lightly shove him in the side, as everyone reaches for their cues on the stage and you crawl to the revolving stage underneath with Eren and Sukuna. And surely enough, Levi and Gojo delivered well on their promise with their prop guy.

He perfectly replicated that god forsaken throne Scott was sitting on in that stupid magazine cover. You snag the little crown Eren placed on your head off to admire the work on it – the gold handiwork. You place your hands in the middle and test the fragileness, noting that it takes little to crack the pieces – before you place it back on your head.

“So, who was on the right? Eren or Lana?” you ask.

“I was on the right.” Eren responds.

The group of you flinch as the music starts blaring above and take it as a sign to stick your earpieces in. And right on timing with the chorus, you can hear the screaming get louder – which you’re positive is people just overreacting to the fact that Gojo’s the first person in the ensemble showcase when he shouldn’t even be in it in the first place – and tap your hands nervously on the handles.

I wanna be your endgame I wanna be your first string I wanna be your A-Team (whoa-whoa, whoa) I wanna be your endgame, endgame

“Sukuna. There’s pins right there, there’s no way she’s not going to jostle the crown off before she hands it to Lana.”

“Got it.” Sukuna responds, shuffling away as you look back up to Eren.

He looks down at you, tucking your hair behind your ear, which has your heart pounding in your throat.

“Pretty dress.” Eren whispers.

You give him a shrug, before laying down the fringe at your sides.

“Nice suit.” you respond.

“Eh. It’s kind of digging into my neck.” Eren responds.

You stand up, rocking back on your heels, as you turn to face him. You reach forward, reaching for the top buttons of his dress shirt and task yourself with unbuttoning them.

“You know, you could at least take me on a date first.” Eren grumbles.

You hum in response, giving him a smile, as you stop at the third button and reach forward to readjust the layers of his necklaces. His skin is soft and warm underneath your fingertips and it gives you an insanely inappropriate thought.

“What are you thinking?” Eren murmurs.

“Nothing.”

“You’re thinking something naughty.”

“Ew. You have such a disgusting choice of words, Eren.” you whine.

“What was it?”

“Nothing, Eren. I was thinking about how pale you are.” you respond, letting go of the chains and reaching back to sit in your little chair.

Eren reaches forward, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you back. He’s quick with his other hand, securing it around your waist and holding you steady against him. His lips hover right by your ear, the gravel of his whispering makes you nearly squirm.

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

“Nothing, Eren. Really.”

“I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before…and I know what it means. What were you thinking?” Eren asks.

You groan, squirming out of his embrace.

Where the hell did Sukuna get lost?

“I just thought about something that people would notice, that's all. But we don’t–”

“What was it?”

You groan, before tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’m wearing red lipstick. And that’s a fairly…exposed patch of skin. People would notice if I–”

“If you kissed me. Alright, go ahead and do it then.” Eren responds, angling his neck closer to you.”

“Eren.”

“C’mon. It’s almost our turn. You have to be quick with it.” Eren responds, gesturing frantically with your hands.

You awkwardly step forward, placing your hands on the sides before you pinch your eyes shut and press a lingering kiss to his neck. You can feel Eren lightly tilt his head back and inhale sharply the second you make contact – but you chose to ignore it.

You pull back and examine the mark, though it’s rather faint. Eren clocks it fast enough, as he gestures with his hands again.

“Another one won’t hurt. C’mon.” Eren whispers.

“Okay, yeah.” you respond.

You press your lips to his neck again, this time earning you Eren’s hand squeezing into your side – where it was resting at your waist – as you pull back and admire the mark. You look back up at him, feeling an itching sensation all over as you give him an awkward smile.

“You guys are fucking insane, you know that?” Sukuna mutters.

“Sukuna! Where the fuck did you go?” you respond, angrily snatching the little pins from his hands and securing them into your hair.

You sit back down on the throne, as you hear the little countdown ringing in your ear, and prepare yourself to sing the last portion of the song. You can feel both of their hands on your shoulders – squeezing hard – as you lift the microphone to your lips.

Big reputation, big reputation Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah And you heard about me, oh I got some big enemies (hey) Big reputation, big reputation (yeah) Ooh, you and me, we'd be a big conversation, ah And I heard about you, ooh You like the bad ones too

You rustle the crown off of your head and hand it to Sukuna, who walks over to the edge of the stage and tosses it right to Lana in the front row. Who takes it in her hands and breaks it in half before throwing it behind her back.

I hit you like, "Bang" We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me And I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul It's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks So here's the truth from my red lips

I wanna be your endgame (endgame) I wanna be your first string (me and you) (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (be your A-Team now) I wanna be your endgame, endgame I wanna be your endgame (oh, I do) I wanna be your first string (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (A-Team) I wanna be your endgame, endgame

The last part is the most nerve wracking. You had to abandon your sweet post of sitting in between Eren and Mikasa at your table for your last performance of the night – which was going to be announced by Danny and Sareen.

It’s like sitting on pins and needles, getting your hair done and slipping into the sparkly but scratchy dress. And surely enough, when you wait on the edges of the curtain and watch them stage your set – of a grand piano and little star decals – they join you at your side. You can feel your hands shake, nearly dropping the trophy in your hands, as you spare them a glance.

They’re shorter than you remember and frankly, less intimidating too. That coupled with the fact that Danny has a bright pink eye and the slightest bit of dried blood around his nose.

“What happened to your face?” you sneer.

Danny rolls his eyes.

“Ask your boy-toy.” he responds.

You fight the urge to smile, and make a mental note that Eren deserves every bit of your praise when you see him next, as you turn your head back to the stage, where the announcer is presenting the highlights of your career on the back screen. And surely enough, the two of them awkwardly jostle their arms in with yours as the three of you walk out together.

You stare blankly out in the audience. And refuse to smile.

You can see Eren sitting front and center as he gives you the smallest thumbs up in support.

“One of our crowning achievements is getting to work with this lovely young lady right here, on some of our most famous albums, like The Lucky One. Please give a well deserved round of applause for the unstoppable Y/N L/N, who will finally be gracing us with her triple threat performance.” Sareen states.

You note the drag in her voice when she says the word finally. And you fight the acidic feeling that accumulates in your mouth as you’re suddenly acutely aware of the fact that you’re standing next to the two people you hate the most – who continue to take credit for the one thing that’s yours.

“Out of the three, Y/N has chosen to mimic the signing performance that awarded her this coveted prize. She will be playing her brand new song, vampire, on the piano. A true testament to all the work that the three of us put together as a team, in molding her into a skilled pianist.” Danny states, sticking his hand out to Sareen as the two of them walk off and take a seat right at the front.

You can feel your skin steaming as you place the award on the top of the piano and sit down at the keys. You’re able to catch Sukuna’s striking pink hair moving on your left – to the seats behind Danny and Sareen – as you take that as your cue to start performing.

Hate to give the satisfaction, asking how you're doing now How's the castle built off people you pretend to care about? Just what you wanted Look at you, cool guy, you got it I see the parties and the diamonds sometimes when I close my eyes Six months of torture you sold as some forbidden paradise I loved you truly Gotta laugh at the stupidity

“Eren. You okay? You’re shaking the entire table.” Lana asks, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

Eren absentmindedly looks down and notices the nervous shaking in his leg, as he turns to his side and spares her a glance. He can note that Lana's concerned because this is starkly similar to the last time the two of them were here together.

When you were singing your isolating, heart-shattering piano ballad about him, while he was hanging his head in between his legs. After you had slapped him, after you had yelled at him after everything that had happened.

That was far from it. It was the way your hands were shaking on the piano keys that was stressing him out. He needed you to make it through the entire thing. Desperately.

“I’m nervous. I think she’s going to cry.” Eren whispers back.

'Cause I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You’re crying.

Because all you can think about is how the two of them were just standing there, arms linked in with yours, in a moment that was supposed to be yours. That every moment that was supposed to be yours was theirs – and that even at the end of all of that, their still the one standing their proud with their careers when you had to suffer at the hands of it.

That taking your career was one thing, but taking advantage of the fact that you knew nothing was another. Because you were a teenager, who was so attached to her dream that she'd do anything to get it, especially when people at the top – were promising it to her.

All at the expense of Eren and his feelings. At the expense of your relationship.

You can feel your hands shaking, your vision entirely blurred as you feel the tears start to pour out of your eyes – your singing voice coming out entirely strained as you continue to push your keys on the piano. And you’re able to strain enough until you get right to the bridge and pause.

They had a responsibility to look out for you as an adult. And did the exaxt opposite.

You reach back to the slicked back bun and snag the pink ribbon that was secured into the little hair tie. The same pink ribbon that was dangling from your hair the day you were stranded in that godawful rain. And yank it straight out of your hair and wrap a little bow around the bottom of the award.

You wipe the wetness on your cheek, coming back with the slightest smudge on the back of your hand, before you press your hands into the keys and continue singing. The continuation has people rising out of their seats – and you don’t fail to notice that Eren’s the first one to do it – as you finish the song.

You said it was true love, but wouldn't that be hard? You can't love anyone, 'cause that would mean you had a heart I tried you help you out, now I know that I can't 'Cause how you think's the kind of thing I'll never understand

I've made some real big mistakes But you make the worst one look fine I should've known it was strange You only come out at night I used to think I was smart But you made me look so naive The way you sold me for parts As you sunk your teeth into me, oh Bloodsucker, famefucker Bleedin' me dry, like a goddamn vampire

You take the award and stand up from the bench of the piano to walk straight off the stage, directly to where Sareen and Danny are sitting in the front. Sukuna’s taken the hint to leave the open chair he was sitting in between them and retreats back to his original, as you place the award in between the two of them.

“Congratulations. I hope it was everything you ever wanted, assholes.” you seethe.

You slam the award down onto the open space between them, enough for them both to jump up in their seats and spill a glass of wine down the length of Sareen’s dress, as you angrily march back to your seat. And surely enough, Eren and Mikasa are waiting there with open arms, ready to wipe your glittery tears away.

And as the cameras drop and they cut to commercials for four minutes, you lean your head against Eren’s shoulder as Mikasa pours you a glass of water.

“So fucking good. So fucking amazing, Y/N you–” Eren whispers.

"Eren even punched him in the face earlier, Y/N! It looked like it really hurt." Mikasa murmurs.

You look up at Eren, and he's grinning so hard, that you can't even fight the urge to not smile back.

"Why'd you punch him?" you ask.

"You slapped Scott Clarkson for me. Why am I not allowed to punch Danny for you?" Eren asks.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and look to your left to find Hange and Levi standing at your side, which really only brings on a more powerful stream of tears. Levi instinctively opens up his arms as you lean against his shoulder instead, Eren standing closeby with Sukuna at his side now.

“Was that everything you wanted Hange?” you groan.

Hange smiles.

“And more, kid. I, uh. Actually have something for you.” Hange responds.

“What’s that?” you ask.

Hange gestures to Connie at the side, as he produces a small, golden trophy in Hange’s hands.

“I really don’t give a shit about this anymore. S’kind of how it goes with this type of thing. But, I know this award, this one in my hands specifically meant the world to you back in the day, so I want you to have it.” Hange murmurs.

You frown.

“Hange. You can’t just give that to me.” you respond.

“You gave yours away because it gave you more pain than it was worth. Mine did the same for me at the time too. But, it gives me joy to give it back to you, because really, you deserved it. Back then, but even now too.”

You take the little golden trophy in your hands, noting that it’s much smaller and really not even as shiny as the one that they had just handed you, and press it close to your chest.

“Hange, thank you so much. You have no idea what this even means to me.” you whisper, as you wrap your arms around their neck.

Hange spares Eren a glance over the shoulder and gives him a big thumbs up, coupled with Levi’s approving smile.

It’s the rare times that Eren’s overthinking habit comes in handy. When he’s able to think ahead and fix things before they happen.

“I have an idea, kid.” Hange responds.

Levi and Hange give you a three day break when you get back to set. You’re not sure what exactly it was that came out of you when you did your last performance, but it was almost like it drained the life out of you. Eren nearly had to drag you back onto that plane and consequently, to your room, when you made it back to the set.

He thinks that you’ve finally let go of what you’ve been holding on to. And that you can finally move forward now.

You told him that Marco must have been haunting him overtime for the past few days, which earned you a hearty laugh from him.

And surely enough, on the fourth day, you’re able to muster your legs down to the kitchen – to a group of well meaning cheers from the group of them – as you read the little slots on the schedule pasted on the fridge. And surely enough, Levi was going to throw you right back into the thick of it.

Wednesday, April 6th, 8:00 AM

Eren Head Decapitation

It’s a stupid caption. If you didn’t know what it meant, you would even laugh at it.

But you had read ahead already – and knew that it meant that it was finally time for you and Eren to get that kiss scene out of the way.

next part linked here

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 @officialsimp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanloll @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

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eyesfullofsttars · 20 days

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☆ 🎥 ָ࣪ abby and ellie camera roll ₊⁺ ☆ (gilmore girls!au)

sypnosis; a quick look through abigail and ellie's photo galleries!

notes; this is short and kind of silly, but i spent like 30 minutes searching for photos that I'm still not sure about. anyway, it's simple and not a big deal in the end. i got inspired by this tweet!!!

☆ series masterlist !

☆ selfies that ellie takes to send to abby

ellie usually sends abby selfies right after she wakes up or while she's literally starting her day, sending her a good morning message. sometimes they're just selfies of her outfit before going skateboarding, and then the aftermath of that... (poor baby)

☆ selfies that abby sends in response to ellie

with abby, it's the same as with ellie (totally in love). she immediately gets in a good mood in the morning when she receives ellie's message and doesn't hesitate to respond, showing how she's getting ready to go to chilton. in the afternoon, she sends pics explaining her absence because she needs to study before she can go out with ellie.

☆ dates (photos taken by abby of ellie)

they go out every day without fail, usually taking walks around town, making stops at the library, or simply staying at ellie's house, where abby has the privilege of watching her play the guitar. the day typically ends with them sleeping together, and they wake up the next day to have breakfast.

☆ dates (photos taken by ellie of abby)

other date options often include ellie trying to teach abby how to skateboard (and failing in the attempt), them eating their usual order - hamburger with fries - at joel's diner, or repeating their usual routine of visiting the stars hollow bookstore and then going to sleep at one of their houses.

☆ abby's favorite photos in her gallery of ellie

els hates these photos!!! it seems like abby always manages to capture her at her worst moments (according to ellie), whether she's sleeping, lost in thought, or in a bad mood. but in reality, they always end up being abby's favorite photos and she always denies that ellie looks bad.

☆ ellie's favorite photos in her gallery of abs

ellie loves taking photos of abby when she's not aware; it's literally her biggest passion, especially when abby is making a particular face or simply laughing. After all, she's obsessed with how beautiful abs always looks.

☆ pics album "freckles 🦖" (by abby)

during stressful exam times at chilton, anderson seeks refuge in her small photo album, filled with even more of her favorite photos of ellie. it's literally one of abby's most valuable possessions, always adding new photos, even if they're silly or simple. she always wants to dedicate a small corner to els in every aspect of her life.

☆ pics album "nerd 🤓" (by ellie)

ellie is head over heels in love with abby, totally in love with her, even if she always tries to deny it or downplay the affection she feels for anderson. it's pretty obvious to everyone in town that abby has her wrapped around her finger. before going to bed, ellie looks through the photo album to convince herself that her relationship with abby, the most beautiful girl she's ever seen, is truly real.

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nervousmiseryy · 1 year

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I need non-spanish speakers who found out about Roier through the QSMP to know about The Hotel Room Incident bc i find it so fcking funny

To give you some context: a bunch of spanish speaking streamers were all in Mexico, staying in the same hotel bc of The Eslands (an award show for streamers that was happening on the 29th of January).

And somehow, even though most streamers arrived on the 28th and were tired as fuck, a party started to from on the hotel. So throughout the night we kept getting instastories and videos of the guys saying hi to fans outside the hotel. Here are some examples: 1 (yep, that’s roier in the beginning), 2

Mind you, the event started really early the next day.

So the next morning we start getting tweets and stories from these streamers who are very obviously hungover and tired (a whole bunch of them ended up going with sunglasses to the awards lol).

And Mariana posts this story:

M: [...] The problem here is Roier, I don’t know where he is. He was supposed to stay here with me bc he did not have a room and I told him “stay with me, no problem dude” and there are his things and everything... he’s not here! and I have like 10 messages and 10 missed calls from him saying like “dude, I can’t get in!”. The dumbass is him bc I gave him a key.. no way [..]

Roier is missing

He could be sleeping in the middle of the hallway for all we know.

After like an hour or radio silence, Roier tweets this:

R: when you end up sleeping with spreen bc mariana fell asleep

S: you suck it good

R: you look really pretty sleeping

And other than this story (which is mainly Roier insulting Mariana lmao) we get no more context at all.

For like two days

Nothing will ever compare to all the communities trying to piece together what the hell happened that night through all the vague tweets, it was so fun. Istg it all felt like one of those Twitter AUs.

So, the awards happen, everyone goes back home and the fun part stars:

The streams where the streamers talk about the trip.

No one was safe (especially spreen) (it doesn’t matter to the story but you have to know everyone had a different wild ass story about him)

It turns out Mariana got so drunk that he forgot and fell asleep, and the key he gave Roier did not work, so Quackity had to use his lawyer skills to get the hotel people to let Roier in.

AND IT COULD HAVE WORKED, the hotel people opened the door, but they had to ask Mariana if Roier could enter, and he was just not waking up at all 😭, so Spreen (who had a whole afterparty forming in his room) offered his room.

And this was only one of the many things that happened during that trip (for example, at one point Mariana got them kicked out of a store bc he leaked their location and a crowd was forming 😭 ). So, what I guess I’m trying to say is that I’m really excited for when La Velada comes around and all of them can meet up again, and you should too, because these mfs cannot be normal when they get together.

#roier #elmariana #quackity #spreen

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matan4il · 5 months

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Daily update post:

This morning, 15 minutes after the break in fighting was supposed to begin, Hamas fired two rocket barrages into southern Israel. This is what we mean when we say that Hamas has broken every ceasefire ever. The only reason why this didn't lead to the hostage deal falling apart, is because Israel chose to "contain" Hamas' violent rocket attack. But remember this when we explain why we can't accept Hamas' existence anymore.

Israel confirmed that the 13 hostages being released have arrived in Egypt, and there are already Israelis there, taking care of them. IDK when we'll get their names, and images of them safe back in Israel, but as you can imagine, everyone here is holding its breath for that. Still, their well being comes first, they're being taken to a hospital first, to see their families, and only then (and based on whatever they prefer) will there be anything more public. There will not be interviews, however, 'coz something they say might risk the other groups of hostages meant to be released in the upcoming days.

Hamas is also releasing some of the Thai nationals they've kidnapped (I heard 12 of the 23 taken hostage), which are being let go of unconditionally. Before anyone tries to make out this shows Hamas is humane, I'll just point out that Hamas terrorists murdered at least 33 Thais on Oct 7.

Some of my fave commentators recently on what's going on here since Hamas' massacre aren't Jewish, or even Israeli. Here's a few of their tweets:

Regarding the last one, I just wanna say that most Israelis will continue to trust most Arabs. That's just how we have always lived, despite the on going terror attacks. The day after Oct 7, I mentioned that I went to my hospital treatment. The guard there is an Arab guy. He carries a gun. I couldn't help but think about it. And then I did what I always do, I thanked him for his work (being a guard is difficult), and wished him a good day. He smiled big and wished me the same. He's lovely. What Hamas did on Oct 7 is not his fault. But the mistrust of survivors, and some of those who care about them, is also very human and understandable, as much as I'll continue to call on everyone not to generalize about Arabs, or any group.

Especially when some of Hamas' victims are themselves Arabs. Here's a young Israeli Muslim Bedouin woman, who has been speaking up on behalf of her friend, 17 years old Aisha al Ziadna, who was kidnapped by Hamas on Oct 7.

A Sky News reporter was particularly shameful the other day. She tried to use Israel's willingness to release 3 convicted terrorist per just 1 innocent civilian hostage to vilify Israel. Here's the reply she got:

Just a reminder, once again, that when you listen to western media, which is supposed to be objective, these are often their info sources on this conflict:

Speaking of lack of objectivity, an Israeli newspaper found out that the International Criminal Court has appointed a Danish lawyer to investigate the Israel-Hamas war, and it's a man (I'm not sure I'm transcribing his name from Hebrew correctly, but it should be something like Andreas Laursen) who has worked in the past for a Palestinian "human rights organization" which has been outlawed in 2021 for having ties to terrorist organizations, who was involved in 2018 in trying to make the case that Israel had committed war crimes, who has lived in the Palestinian city of Ramallah, and who is married to a Palestinian woman. This Israeli newspaper has contacted the ICC, asking why the person appointed to this investigation isn't someone who would at least appear to be unbiased. The answer was (I'm translating from the Hebrew article): "We maintain confidentiality about anything that pertains to specific subjects that are related to our employees. Every personal decision made by the head prosecutor fits the policy and relevant procedures that oversee the court's human resources matters."

Because there are still people denying the Hamas rapes:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by כאן חדשות (@kan_news)

instagram

I've spoken before about Liel, and how long it took to identify her body, but this tweet kind of broke me all over again.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #antisemitism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #Instagram

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s0lam33y · 24 days

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not a thing in my name.

a/n: everybody and they mama was in shambles. It’s not my fault YEW chose Tori mane 😭 (I’m just kidding plz don’t get me) so I made this part 2 🙏🏽 I’m personally not the biggest fan of this part 2, but Ik you all have been waiting for it. I was conflicted on how to end this piece and I’m scared that it shows 💀

Here’s part 1

🎶: @pvnks0ul @fentibeauty @onyxstones-world @kissvamps @shurislover @eringranola @elyxiir @oceean @teadah18 @ririshotgf @blushyrawrz @imnotb

A part of you has begun to hate fame. At the same time, you’re grateful for everything, for everyone. You’ve started to hate how invasive everyone has become. There’s a camera in your face every single time you step into your home. There’s always some sort of hateful tweet or Instagram comment which is mostly due to your lack of management. The only person that you know that was ever good with hooking you on to others was Riri.

She’s barely in your life so things aren’t the same. You have a whole group of people with you at all times. Especially on your tour. It’s so close to ending with LA as its last location.

You finally make it to your hotel room with Tori trailing behind you. She seems to be enjoying the fame, she’s gained quite a bit since your relationship is now public. Now it’s broadcasted, and everyone’s wondering who she is. And since you’re with her all the time, you decided that she might as well be a part of your team, as a manager. She manages your schedule, and what time everything happens.

The real reason is so she can communicate with anyone that needs to reach you. Riri included. Not that you can’t speak to her but you wouldn’t be able to handle interacting with her after what happened four months ago. So you have Tori handle it.

“Damn, New York! I did not miss this,” She chuckles as you chuck your heels off. You’re exhausted but you offer a curt smile anyway.

“Yeah, same.” You agree. You rush into the lush bathroom, ripping off your lashes, and wiping off your makeup. You slip into the shower quickly and head out in a fluffy robe to hear Tori on the phone. She’s sitting on the edge of the California-sized Bed, tightly gripping the phone. She catches you at the door frame and visibly relaxes.

“Yeah but you know she got early mornings tomorrow, I don’t think you should come.” She says with some edge to her voice. You approach her, watching her eyes trail over your frame before you cup her cheek. You’d like to think that your relationship is fixing itself. You’re starting to feel like the boredom is stability.

“Who was that?”

“No one.” She promises while wrapping her arms around your waist.

…

You can’t spend your mornings admiring the beautiful city or taking walks like you used to. There’s something nostalgic about being in New York again. It’s like being home again. Despite how irritating it can get, and ending up at the 125th by accident, you’ve missed the chaos of it all.

But, you can’t have everything. You can’t stand still and admire anything either. So you get ready in the morning while it’s still dark. While rubbing cream into your face, you notice the deep bags that have begun to form beneath your eyes after a hot shower.

Sleep has been difficult lately. Not only do you get six hours at best, the quality of it sucks. The mattress in the hotel is barely comfortable to you, too soft. You find yourself sinking in silk sheets at night. And it doesn’t help that you get super cold, Tori likes to keep to her side of the bed and nine times out of ten her back is facing your own so warmth from her isn’t even an option.

You step out of the bathroom, dressed in dark sweats and a gray hoodie to match. You barely look done up, but that’s not anything you're concerned about right now.

You sit at the foot of the bed, reaching for Tori to pull her out of sleep.

“Tori, c’mon, wake up.” You breathe out. She wakes up with a jolt, looking around and forcing a chuckle out of your lips.

…

“That was gorgeous! Y/N!” A manager speaks, hollering from the empty crowd. A thin layer of sweat covers your body as you finally take in a needed deep breath. You don’t remember this hurting so bad during your last performance. You see hundreds of seats in front of you, but they aren’t filled just yet. You’re sure they will be in less than 13 hours. You had to go over your entire routine, it’s a lot. More than you’ve ever done but you’ve worked through it and that’s all that matters. A manager of the venue wanted to watch you rehearse and seems to have enjoyed it. You smile at him in thanks and sit on the edge of the stage, reaching for the water bottle next to you.

After a while, you go backstage to find Tori on the phone. She notices you and smiles.

“Alright, I’ll call you back.” She says, quickly stuffing her phone in her pockets.

“I heard you, you sounded good, babe.” She smiles as her hand grazes your arm. She takes a step closer to you and lowers just a bit to whisper into your ear.

“After this event, we could-“ You begin.

Her phone rings again. She takes a step back, smiling at you before walking away. You’ve been trying your best to fix everything. To bring you back to the way things were before. She’s been on the phone more often than usual lately. You’re sure it’s just to manage your schedule and whatnot so you don’t question it.

…

By the time the performance is broadcast all over social media, you’re already on a plane to LA for your next location. Tori decided to linger in the last tour location, saying she had things to wrap up.

You blast some Sade up into your headphones and lean back into your seat. First class seats weren’t anything that you were able to experience back then so you take advantage of it now and do your best to relax despite the headache beginning to form. You close your eyes, the aches in your body finally releasing.

Before you can truly relax, you blink your eyes open, looking around to see a familiar head. A woman is sitting across the other isle right next to you, facing the window but with gorgeous braids and spare curls gracefully falling next to them. She’s not sitting normally, instead, she has one foot perched up on the seat and low-hanging sweats. She turns around and meets your gaze.

Riri.

You blink again and do your best to shake the thought out of your head. When your vision clears you realize that it’s just a woman that you’ve never seen, dressed in regular clothing at that.

You’ve been trying not to think about her. The guilt is beginning to chew at you again. She was one of the realest people you will ever meet in this industry. The way you ended was messy but you wished she was at least still a friend. But you can’t have that. You can’t have her and Tori at the same time, she told you herself.

“I want nothing less. I don't want to be the other woman.”

She couldn’t ever possibly be the other woman.

…

“Thank you! Los Angeles!” You yell out onstage. This is your second to last show and you went all out. Your adrenaline is at an all-time high like it always is when you’re on stage but all you can focus on is how much these platform heels are killing your ankles. The crowd is so loud you can’t hear yourself and the beat of your music is just as loud if not louder than they are.

The song You were originally supposed to end with was the last one you made with Riri but it was somehow scrapped from the list. You don’t know how or why but right before you got up on stage, Tori had told you to not bother performing It.

You get backstage, relieved that you’re finally done with All the performing and exhaustion. You don’t see Tori backstage like you expected.

It’s Riri in the flesh. Or at least you think it is so blink once, really hard to focus. She can’t be here but you’ll take your chances.

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, tightening so you’re pressed against each other.

“I missed you.” You smile as she rubs your back. She looks the same for the most part, her style is still on point.

You pull away to get a good look at her, she’s in a white oversized tee and some baggy jeans. You notice some concealer but only because it’s covering the pretty marks on her skin that you’d love to see. Gold on the bottom row of her teeth and her chain glimmers in the dim light but you don’t mention it.

“You look good, ma, damn. I saw you up there and I was like, damn.” She praises you. You missed her voice too. So much that you feel like it’ll bring you to tears. You’ve needed some sort of good thing to happen to you lately.

This is wearing you down and you feel like you’ve finally found comfort.

“How are you here?” You question while her hand rests on your waist.

“I ordered the tickets a long ass time ago, I talked to yo girl and she was cool wimme being backstage, I know it’s your second last.” She remembers. Of course, she does. You do your best to memorize the feel of her hands on your skin, the calloused slightly fingertips and soft palms. You feel her hands slowly leave you and the energy shifts once she begins to look at the floor and then at you, like she’s somehow anxious. That’s new. “I wanted to see you one last time. I’m moving away from Chicago…I need something new, calmer. I found some cabin in Montana which is weird, but…I think I need to go somewhere quiet.” She says. You swear you stop breathing. Her hand rubs against the skin of your hip as comfort. This is good for her. “You’ve always been on that spiritual shit, anyway.” You smile while feeling the prick of tears in the back of your eyes and the gentle shaking in your voice. You watch her chuckle, the biggest smile forming on her face. Oh, how you’ve missed her. And now she’s leaving. “Good luck with your tour, baby.” She doesn’t attempt to kiss you on the cheek. Instead, she brings your hand to her lips, kissing them the same way she did at that party and staining you with her touch. You pull her into a hug one more time. You want to tell her that you love her. That you don’t want to be in the music industry without her. That you so badly want to drop everything to go in the middle of nowhere with her. You want to tell her that you wish you weren’t so scared. She hugs you back, securing her arms around your frame. “You were never the other woman.” You admit despite the lump in your throat. “I know, baby.” And with that, she’s gone.

…

Chicago feels weird when you’re back. You should be ecstatic. Your last show is in your hometown. Your career is taking off, you’re becoming a household name. Artists are blowing up your phone and begging to collaborate with you. Labels want to sign you. Fans recognize you when you walk out of the house. It’s amazing but so suffocating.

“You've been off lately,” Tori says from the shower. You continue to do your mascara in the mirror. She’s humming the song that you had made with Riri. It makes you think back to why she had cut it out of the list. “Why’d you take the song out?” You suddenly ask, hearing the hot water cut out. “Ion need everybody listening to it, You made it for me.” She says before beginning to go on and on about your love for her, which you would be paying attention to if there wasn’t constant buzzing in your ear. You look down and hear the buzz in her sweats on the floor. It’s not her usual phone, it’s a different color with a different case. You stand upright and before you can see a contact name, you feel steam right behind you and watch her grasp the phone. “Work phone, Let me answer it.” She insists, barely giving you room to answer before leaving. ..

That phone call turned into some sort of meeting that she dressed too well for. She for some reason wore her best cologne and made sure her hair looked right. Tori left you with a kiss on your forehead before heading out of the house. She’s been gone for five hours. The same way she knows you, the same way you know her. You ain’t fucking dumb. You’ve spent the last five hours on the couch, zoning out and coming back to reality. You saw this coming, especially with her constantly taking too many calls, staying in tour locations without you, her quickly hanging up when you came around. You wait for her to step back into your shared apartment. She has a grin on her face. You feel stupid for not having seen this coming. She tosses her two phones and car keys on the glass coffee table in front of you. “Where were you?” You question while she sits next to you on the couch. She scoots closer and you let her. She looks flushed and all you can think about is how much you used to love her. Her eyes grow wide and you’re sure the look on your face is enough for her to know that you know. “Babe-” “How long?” You ask, it’s not fair. You knew she was insecure about Riri but you never pinned her as the type. “What the fuck are you on?” She curses, damn near yelling before standing up. A loud repeated buzzing turns her quiet. She looks at you like you’ve slapped her. “Pick up and put it on speaker.” You order. She takes in a deep breath before doing as asked. You keep your eyes on her own before she taps the screen. “Hey baby-” A feminine voice greets her through the phone, she sounds so fucking irritating.

She knows it’s the end of your relationship. …

“Thank you, Chicago…truly. I’m honored to finish my tour here.” You watch the video of you ending your tour. It was amazing, the fans were perfect, the energy was everything. Now you sit in a cab on your way to your apartment.

You figured that Tori cheated on you because of Riri. She had been with the mystery girl for a year and a half. If it was after Riri maybe you would’ve given her some chance. Even before Riri, she had been with someone, perhaps that’s why she was so tolerant for so long. You didn’t ask for many details just for how long. She tried to make excuses about how she didn’t feel cared for and how she always felt like you saw her as some sort of pawn. As far as you know, Right now she’s packing her bags and making her way out of your apartment. You won’t know until you get back home. “We’re here, Ma’am.” The cab driver, you leave him with a generous tip before quickly making it home. You need to be home, your bones are beginning to ache and so are your joints.

As you approach your apartment you swear you hear shifting and a voice. The closer you get, the more distinct it becomes. It’s not Tori for sure, It’s some woman with a grating moan that you hear sounds too fake to be true. You quietly walk through the door only to find a naked body on top of your ex. You stand there in silence, crossing your arms. You already thought it was crazy for her to have been cheating on you for months. But for her to fuck in your apartment, that’s another level of disrespect. You knock on the doorframe, watching both of them jump like they’ve got blood on their hands. She’s riding your ex like there’s no tomorrow. “What the—Y/N, You..” Tori starts breathlessly.

“Be out in ten minutes.” …

Your finger hovers over Riri’s contact name. Her photo is cute, it’s a selfie of the two of you in her studio. You’re sitting on your washer, cleaning the fucking fluids off your couch cover while a tall glass of wine sits in your palm.

You miss her. So much. This breakup should hurt. You’ve known Tori for so long but for some reason, it doesn’t hurt. You feel relieved instead.

“I’m not gonna be your second choice, Y/N. I refuse to be an option, okay?”

Riri was never the second choice. And all you’ve thought about since your career has taken off is her. She should have her arm wrapped around your waist at events. She should be the one driving you home.

You would hate to see her again and have her feel like she was the last option. So you decide that maybe it’s about time you fix that.

….

Turns out she really went to fucking Montana. You double check her location which she gave you ages ago. You’re close, right next to each other almost. It’s bright out, after a rough night at your apartment. You abruptly decided that there was no use in waiting to not go see her. So you chose to book an early flight.

It’s beautiful, there are mountains everywhere and it looks like she’s alone. You walk up the steps of the cabin’s porch. Maybe this is a horrible idea. Maybe she’s moved on. She could very well have already moved on.

There’s a light chill this morning. You raise your hand and knock at the door, waiting for a response.

“How’d you find me, y/n?” She questions. She doesn’t make a single sound of irritation. There’s a small smile on her face and her toned frame is showcased because of the sleeveless top she has on.

She doesn’t look like the Riri you know but she does. She doesn’t have any makeup on, no lashes done, she’s barefaced with her hair slicked back in a neat bun. She’s still so beautiful. She looks happy. Less stressed.

You can’t help but smile at the sight of her. She looks all the same for the most part, so carefree, with a small smile on her face and blissed eyes.

You smell her vanilla perfume that brings you home every time. It reminds you of a home that you don’t recognize. It just feels right. She feels right.

“A lot happened and I missed you.” You admit, still a little afraid of her reaction.

“Just say you still got my location…Come here.” She laughs before grabbing your hand and pulling you into her arms. You don’t hug her back immediately. But then eventually you settle into her touch for a while. She pulls away to get a good look at you.

Her eyes are dilated, more than you’ve ever seen them. You’ve never had the privilege of admiring her up close. She’s so beautiful, you knew that already but watching her from a distance is different. Her hand is gentle against your cheekbone. Her sweet eyes scan over your makeup that’s somehow still dewy although it’s been hours since you put it on.

“You hate red lipstick,” She points out at your stained lips. You’re confused before thinking back to what she’s talking about. In your last performance in Chicago, your lips were a vibrant shade that you hate. She’s not wrong, you hate how much attention it draws but you’re glad she’s seen it. She’s been keeping up with you.

“That hasn’t changed.” You murmur, watching her reach her thumb to your skin to wipe at your lip as if the lipstick is still there.

“Come in,”

….

“Oh damn, so she has been fuckin’ somebody else,” Riri says with raised brows and a hushed tone. A sour taste grows in your mouth even though you know it shouldn’t.

“I guess.” You murmur while looking around Riri’s place. Most of the interior is just the old warm decor she had at her old place. Her guitar sits up against the wooden wall next to the fireplace. You see why she moved here. It’s gorgeous and all you hear is birds chirping outside.

You take a sip of the hot chocolate she’s made for you before leaning back onto the couch.

“I’m sorry ‘bout that, baby.” She comforts you while inching closer to you and rubbing your knee. The pet name makes you melt all over again. She leans back, watching the fire pit.

“You going back to the city soon?” You wonder.

“Mhm…in a couple of months. I can’t let down my artists. I’ve been working from home for the most part.” She comments.

“I’ve missed you.” You admit. You haven’t felt this calm and centered in a long time. It’s just so quiet. It’s just you and her.

“Me too.” She agrees while both of you look at each other. She’s always been good with eye contact but this is something different. You wonder if she’s always looked at you like this.

You know she won’t take the initiative to lean in so you do and eventually she follows, the hand she had on her knee moves up to your waist and you’re so close you could count the cute little freckles by her eyes.

Your lips ghost over each other and you almost taste the mango-flavored chapstick on her lips before her face tenses.

“I can’t be your rebound either, Y-“

You ignore the sheer irritation brewing in you before leaning in to kiss her. You pull away to gauge her reaction, her chest is rising and falling at a pace you don’t think you’ve ever seen before.

“You can’t be a rebound when you were never the other woman, And I’m sorry that it took so long for me to realize that,” You blurt and for the first time, you can’t tell what she’s feeling. Her hands wrap around your face as she speaks.

“Took you long enough.”

She kisses you again and she doesn’t stop until your lips go numb.

#riri williams #riri x reader #riri williams x reader

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film-in-my-soul · 4 months

Text

Oblivious | 10,166 | Stevieschrodinger / @stevieschrodinger

Summary: Everyone knows that Steve and Bucky are a thing. Everyone, that is, except for Steve.

dark into the heat | 10,247 | Nonymos

Summary: Steve breaks everyone out of Azzano, then goes back for one last prisoner who might not be quite human. Everything is going to go just fine.

Circularity | 11,724 | dharmashark / @dharmasharks

Summary: Steve runs his underground cybernetics shop with two rules: 1. Don’t get involved with HydraCorp. 2. Don’t get personal with clients. But when a mysterious cyborg shows up at his front door, Steve decides that some rules are worth breaking—especially if you can take down a big bad mega corporation in the process. (And if said client just so happens to be unreasonably cute.)

Say it louder for the people in the back | 14,864 | redhook

Summary: Steve operates a glory hole. One of his regulars starts to get under his skin.

Please see below for more recommendations!

The Run and Go | 14,960 | lupus (khaleeseas) / @khaleeseas

Summary: When Bucky Barnes first meets Steve Rogers, Bucky's standing half-naked in their apartment complex's laundry room. It's 2 a.m. on a Friday night (or is it considered a Saturday morning?) and for once Bucky is way too sober for all of this. The next thing Bucky knows, Steve is everywhere. Being hot and sarcastic and nice and overall perfect and Bucky is kind of totally and completely screwed.

Caramel Macchiato | 15,450 | littleblackfox / @thelittleblackfox

Summary: "You ate my bees," Bucky says. Because his own tongue fucking hates him.

wipe the blood from your face and your hands | 15,735 | AustinB / @cornerficus

Summary: It’s weird. The whole fucking thing is weird. Steve’s sitting across from a vampire in a diner under harsh fluorescent lighting, and he still looks like a fucking GQ cover. Steve wonders if biting creates some sort of bond like it does on T.V. Maybe he should’ve asked that question before consenting to it. “Do you have some kind of telepathic connection with me now that you’ve drank my blood?” Bucky snorts into his coffee. Steve finds it oddly endearing.

imagine being loved by me | 20,247 | spacebuck / @spacebuck

Summary: Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all. Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

Paper Tree | 21,391 | Ellessey

Summary: Bucky just laughs and shoves another bite of egg in his mouth, giving Steve a shrug and a full-cheeked smile. He's so damn cute Steve wants to shout at him, but he can't seem to say any of the right things. "Shoulda got you a comb for Christmas," is what he comes up with instead. "What did you get me?" It's Steve's turn to shrug now, and if he looks more terrified than cheeky as he does so, he can only hope Bucky doesn't catch it before Steve hurries out the door.

Controlled Release | 21,836 | steebadore / @steebadore

Summary: Bucky's just having a little trouble...finishing. Completing the mission. He can squeeze the trigger but he can't make the shot is what he's saying. Which is why he's here, loitering outside a nice brownstone in Park Slope, trying to find the courage to knock on Captain Come Control dot com's door for his three o'clock appointment. You know, just normal Thursday things.

I Just Want to Love You in My Own Language | 22,436 | agetwellcard / @agetwellcard

Summary: Bucky Barnes is Captain America and uses terrible pickup lines. Steve Rogers is Captain America's nurse and is not impressed by the aforementioned terrible pickup lines.

During Business Hours: A Filthy Coffee Shop AU | 25,116 | samanthahirr / @samanthahirr

Summary: Unemployed artist Steve takes a job managing the worst coffee shop in Brooklyn, where the floors are greasy, the coffee beans have expired, the espresso machine’s been sabotaged, and the owners might be Russian Mafia. But the job comes with a few perks, like a generous paycheck, reasonable hours, and one super-hot customer whom Steve can’t resist having dirty, filthy, bad-idea sex with in the bathroom. Steve is pretty sure this job is going to kill him. But what a way to go....

One Caress | 26,160 | fuck_me_barnes / @fuck-me-barnes

Summary: Steve's rarely been touched in a way that didn't equate to some kind of hurt. The cold metal of a stethoscope against his frail chest or the sting of a needle drawing yet another blood sample, when he was a sickly child. The bone-shattering punches thrown by the neighborhood bullies on the playground, or by his own father at home, drunk and wild. His mother, weak and clutching at him as she grew more incoherent with the drugs as the cancer ate away at her insides. Touch was something he shied away from, something he told himself he just didn't want. Except...he did. He just didn't know how. Until he finds a flyer for a local "affection and intimacy services" program.

Season of all things | 26,466 | Claudia_flies / @claudia-flies

Summary: Steve really isn’t sure about sharing with an Alpha but he is starting to run out of options. There are only six Omega boarding houses in the city and Steve has been kicked out of four of them.

Trust Enough | 27,374 | geneticallydead

Summary: “Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“ “Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky. “Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone. So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself. Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired. Well fuck.

How To Embrace A Swamp Creature | 27,625 | littleblackfox / @thelittleblackfox

Summary: Steve washes his hands with the sliver of soap left by the sink, and takes a long hard look at himself in the mirror. The cut on his brow has scabbed over, and the bruises around his eye are blotchy red and sore to the touch. Stupid. His hands are no better, and he grips the edge of the sink to keep them from shaking. The scabs on his knuckles open up again, blood welling up starkly against his bone white fists. He holds them under the running faucet and watches the water circle the drain before pulling himself together. Just a little bit further, a little bit longer

Through The Open Window | 28,661 | 74days

Summary: Steve Rogers gave up on joining the army and worked for Stark Industries writing policy letters by hand. It's a dull job, right up until the office across the fire escape is given to an attractive stranger with one arm and no personal boundaries. Was going to be PWP but then there was like... a little plot? Steve and Bucky if Steve & Bucky never met as kids, I guess.

Agent Rogers | 31,348 | Stevieschrodinger / @stevieschrodinger

Summary: The Winter Soldier has been captured and is being rehabilitated. Steve Rogers really likes his job in the Shield archives.

The Daily Rogers | 32,154 | Nonymos

Summary: College AU. May contain exchange students, a Starbucks addiction, daddy issues, anger issues, closets and how to get out of them, the ever-ominous influence of social networks, various levels of betrayal, awfully poor life choices, but also, ultimately, real chunks of love.

miles to go before i sleep | 34,079 | obsessivereader / @yetanotherobsessivereader

Summary: Vietnam vet Bucky is just trying to get a hot meal, and maybe a job, in the small town of Hope, but the local law enforcement has other ideas. When their brutality triggers a flashback, Bucky snaps and escapes from their custody. Hunted, exhausted, injured, he finds shelter for the night next to a cabin in the middle of the woods. He means to be long gone before the cabin's occupant awakes. Things don't turn out quite the way he expected.

we are the things that we do for fun | 35,585 | Nonymos

Summary: Going to a professional Dom may be one of the weirdest things Bucky’s ever done. Especially since this skinny Steve Rogers guy doesn’t really look the part. But hey, they might just find a way to make this work.

The Devil's Acre | 40,636 | littleblackfox / @thelittleblackfox

Summary: “I’m sorry, you want me to what?” Steve sits back in his chair and tries not to glare at Hill across the conference table. “Track down a cryptid.” Agent Hill repeats, tossing a dossier onto the table. Steve has to stretch out an arm to reach across for it. “A cryptid,” Steve repeats doubtfully.

only one my arms will ever hold | 41,561 | wearing_tearing / @wearing-tearing

Summary: Like most stories about Bucky Barnes and his questionable and sometimes terrible life choices, this one starts because he decides not to listen to Natasha’s cryptic and mostly annoying advice. He decides not to listen, and he hunts down and kills a deer during that month’s full moon run with his pack and leaves its dead body on Steve Rogers’s front step. Steve, the man Bucky kind-of-possibly-maybe-absolutely is in love with. Bucky would try to smother himself after that one, but he’s learned that werewolves are hard to kill.

Karma's A Fake Orgasm | 51,637 | daisymondays

Summary: There’s another abandoned mug, festering with mould in the living room — Steve offically has the world's worst roommates. And complains about them. Often. Bucky, tired of his lack of action, decides it’s time to avenge Steve's sleepless nights and unsanitary conditions once and for all. They’ll pretend to be the world’s most annoying couple: excessive PDA, loud fake sex, and general repugnance. The plan sounds easy enough; it will be strictly platonic. Or will it?

Like the Tide | 53,950 | Deisderium

Summary: There's no SSR anymore. It's SHIELD, now. The worst part is, it's named after him in some way, Peggy's idea of a memorial to honor his sacrifice. He hates the thought of it, because it makes him feel like a hypocrite. His shield was only ever a prop, not something to base an agency around. But he's been mythologized differently. They give him files to read on this thing that Peggy and Howard built, and his story is a part of it—or anyway, the story that Peggy and Howard chose to tell about him. It shouldn't matter; they thought he was dead. They never thought he would see what they turned him into.

Catchweight | 56,418 | notlucy / @notlucy

Summary: For the most part, Steve’s life is fine. Sure, his job is tedious, he lives with his mother, and he can’t quite get over thinking he’s wasting his potential, but maybe that’s just part of being twenty-three. Then, one day—one totally dull day—the archetypal cliche of a tall, dark, and handsome beefcake walks up to his counter, bringing with him more questions than answers, and a duffel bag full of cash.

Through The Woods | 64,082 | VenusMonstrosa / @venusmonstrosa

Summary: There’s a legend in Mansewood, nearly as old as the town itself, about a pack of werewolves that once lived in the forest. They say only one survives; a monstrous and snarling beast with fur like a blizzard and fangs the size of daggers. They say it guards the lands and all creatures in it, and no hunter has faced it and lived to tell the tale. Steve doesn’t care about any of that. He only wants to know if it prefers T-Bone or ribeye, and would it please stop tracking dirt through his house? He just mopped the floor.

Master Reclist · Personal Masterlist · Blog Nav.

#stucky #steve/bucky #stucky reclist #reclist #fanfic reclist #mcu reclist

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bettyshoweduptotheparty · 5 months

Text

Happy 4th December - No, we are not there yet

Sorry in advance, this is a bit of rant, which is not something I usually post. But it's a wet Monday morning and I've had a really frustrating weekend, and today, on this anniversary of maybe the biggest piece of gaylor lore, the pictures and headlines I'm seeing just tipped me over the edge into a rant.

So, on this 4th December 2023 it is 9 years to the day that the world woke up to grainy pictures and videos of Taylor Swift, the world's most famous popstar and America's ultimate good girl, allegedly kissing a woman at a 1975 concert. And the tabloids and social media went crazy over it. And not in a good way. I remember the way I felt, so very nauseated about reading words like 'lesbian affair', 'shocking' and 'fling', not just on Taylor and Karlie's behalf, but the way it made me feel about myself, too. I was brutally reminded that 'lesbian' in 2014 was still seen as a dirty word and society's default was to see sapphic relationships as something scandalous and a fall from grace, rather than something beautiful. To this day I look at this photo and can't help but feel awed by the love and intimacy that their body language exudes, but the world didn't see it that way, they were just obsessing over whether they kissed or not and how to spin that into a dirty story.

That was almost a decade ago. So, have we made progress? Is it all fixed and every queer person (especially artists and celebrities) can live authentically and freely? Well, no, of course not, as was possibly proven again this weekend by Billie Eilish, who confirmed that she is gay (more or less unplanned) in an interview. Nobody should be surprised as she was never subtle about her queerness, yet it cost her over 100,000 social media followers in just 24 hours after explicitly coming out. Being gay, especially for women, is only acceptable when mainstream society don't have to see it. Don't talk about it and God forbid, don't kiss in public. Never mind that straight people do it all the time. The very same tabloid paper that printed kissgate pictures with the word 'shocking' next to them, put Taylor on the cover two years later and described her romance with Tom Hiddleston as 'exciting' and 'sexy'. And on the very morning I see the tweet about Billie, I find this message in my inbox:

Why indeed...? And I was of course expecting Taylor to show up at another football game, but to see her looking somber in a Carol-esque red fur coat, while her partner and all her friends are having a lovely time in LA... it just makes me angry today. Yes, maybe we've made progress in same ways, but we are still so far from where we need to be for everyone to be able to come out without repercussion. In a better world, Taylor would have been in a gorgeous dress next to her wife, rather than sitting next to the girl who would have bullied us in High School.

(And btw, not only was Rebel Wilson blackmailed into coming out by the Sydney Morning Herold, she has lost thousands of followers and has pretty much focused on film making rather than acting since coming out. Maybe this was always her plan, but also, maybe not. Interesting, that film making is also seemingly becoming Taylor's second career leg...)

So, anon who sent me the question above, take this as my answer. Why is the most famous popstar in the world not out in 2023? Most likely because it would cost her so much of what she's worked hard for over the last 17 years. Not withstanding that the answer may also be 🛴 and what he did in 2019 that prevented her from coming out then, the world is just not a very good place for a celebrity to be anything other than straight, white and cisgender. And after 10 years of activism in LGBTQ+ organisations, today I feel a bit deflated by that. But with every single person who feels brave enough to shout their truth from the rooftops, we break down the walls a little more each time. 🌈

#lgbtq community #lgbtq rights #taylor swift #lgbetty #friends of dorothea #anon ask #personal rant #one day the world will be a kinder place

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jqhotchner · 1 month

Text

love of my life

five

you smile as you felt arms wrap around your waist. harry kisses right below your ear as you take a small sip of your tea. you grab his hand and kiss the back of it as you both silently enjoy the birds tweeting outside before hearing tiny little feet puttering towards you.

your middle child coming into view as she wraps her arms around her fathers legs before he picks her up and kisses her cheek gently. you had already started on breakfast, waiting for your husband and kids to come downstairs so you can eat as a family.

you always loved morning with your family. your kids are your lifeline. they bring joy and peace in your life! you don’t know how you survived without them. harry gave you the perfect family and greatest life. meeting him is still one of the best days of your entire life and no one can convince you otherwise! whenever you get depressed or overwhelmed, you turned to your husband and kids and everything just seemed alright in the world.

recently it had been hectic. since harry had officially told the world about your marriage and kids, you had so many cameras following you around. it has became a bit much for you to handle, especially with you being pregnant with your twins. knowing this made harry feel like maybe he should have kept your lives private, kept you and the kids away from the limelight. harry’s scared something would happen to you or the children. you assured him that you’re all fine. no matter when or how you told the world, you’d always have people intrigued and follow you around. this is just part of the territory. he hates that you have to get use to all this. it wasn’t fair to you.

but you’re fine, happy even! you can finally hold your husbands hand in public without the fear of being caught or looking over your shoulder. it felt good to be able to show the world how happy you are with your life. if anything, this took a lot more stress off your shoulders. sure, the paps could be a bit much and you’ll never get use to being stopped by fans who adore your husband, but its so much better than watching him hold and kiss someone else. so much better!

you had your concerns in the past. of course you were frightened! you’ve seen the way harry’s fans treated the people he’s been rumored of dating, you didn’t want that to be you. but the older you got, the more you realized, people are gonna believe what they want. its nothing you can truly do to change someone’s mind. you’ll just have to accept that not everyone will like you or care for your family. as long as you have harry, may, lilah, nova, and the two babies you’re carrying, you’re set for life.

“what’s for breakfast, mamma?” delilah asked as harry sets her down in her high chair.

“mamma made blueberry pancakes!”

delilah hums in delight. blue berries are her favorite. she’d eat them nonstop if she had a choice. you gently set the plate in front of delilah after cutting it up for her. you hand her a sippy cup of orange juice and ruffle her hair before kissing the top of her head.

once you served the rest of your family, you sit right across from your husband. harry moans as he takes the first bite. you playfully roll your eyes. “that good, baby?” you smirked.

harry hums. “best blueberry pancakes ever! isn’t that right may?” maybelle hums at her father as she kicks her feet under the table and dances as she chews on her pancakes.

“see!”

“mamma’s cookin’ bestest, daddy!” delilah states. out of all your kids so far, delilah has got more of an english accent. harry said it’s because you craved a lot of english dishes while pregnant with delilah.

“i agree baby! mamma makes the best food ever!”

“better than frozen nuggies!” may buts in. you smile at your family. thanking whoever, rather that be a god or not! they meant the absolute world to you.

“thanks, my loves!”

harry reached his hand out for you to grab. he gently caresses your hand as he smiles at you lovingly.

“may we go to the park, daddy?!”

“pawk?!” nova head lifts up at the mention of park. you and harry laugh. “i don’t know! what do you think, babe? should we take our little nuggets to the park today?” he was mostly asking so you could check the weather.

you opened your phone as you find the weather channel app before clicking on it. seeing it was gonna be a sunny day you hummed. “i think we can manage that!”

“yay! wanna wear my new polka dress, mamma!” delilah states.

sure, things were different now, but all this was definitely worth it!

if you wanna be added/unadded to taglist, please let me know

taglist:

@harryspirate @sleutherclaw

#harry styles x black!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fake ig #jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #love of my life jqhotchner #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine

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uninformedartist · 10 months

Note

I feel like Spindlehorse can't separate Helluva as a product from themselves as people. Same shit the fandom does.

Yeah that's actually what's happening. Now its understandable that a creator would be attached to their product/project in some ways because after all they made it can be seen as an artistic reflection of themselves and what they want the world to see. But there comes a point where you have to separate yourself from your property especially if it becomes mainstream for legal, professional and pr reasons. That is not seen with Viv and she includes too much of herself (good or bad) into her shows.

When looking at the core aspect of helluva boss the comedy, Viv tries to implement a lot of what she finds personally funny but... lets just say her humor is problematic in some ways or just down right unfunny. And this is very bold of her to do because she's putting what she finds personally funny which thinking in a greater scale is bad to do because everyones humor is subjective. Another thing to note is that her humor is in general very crass "edgy" and immature actually so dick jokes, SA "jokes", ableis "jokes" are all over her show and since this is what she finds personally funny, in our modern era that is a problem because many don't find this sort of humor funny in any way.

The main aspect of helluva boss fails. Viv and whoever she associates with put too much of themselves personally in helluva boss. Be it the humor they find funny or life experiences. And doing this causes issues because as seen by the audience at large (not talking about her bootlicking fanbase) they simply don't find that sort of humor funny or relate to whatever life experiences they insert in helluva boss. Then Viv and co get offended/or angry at the backlash their humor etc receives and proceeds to complain on twitter because this is their personal humor/experiences is being criticised.

Saw a few examples:

This was that horse joke in So2 ep1. It wasn't funny at all well to me at least, was informative but not funny and it was an actual thing that happened to Sam who is Viv's best friend/spindlehorse staff member. This "joke" had to be explained on twitter cos nobody got it, its an inside joke/life experience thrown in the episode that didn't land and now Sam had to explain it.

And this is a big one, the infamous dildos in the wall joke. Since the episode was written by Adam Neylan we thought it was his joke he made and a lot of people didn't find it funny because it was a stupid dick joke and where the joke happened was were Moxxie was physically abused by his father then the next scene had the dildos popping out the walls, complete tonal whiplash and was insensitive. Why I bring this up because it was actually Viv who added the dildo joke: this is highlights from the Helluva boss watch party.

And then she proceeded to go on twitter liking and retweeting any tweet of someone who found it funny when many didn't to I don't know comfort herself, maybe boost her ego. Yeah adding your personal taste in humor can backfire.

On the hivemind fandom, its like minded people in it and she cultivated this fandom over many years so Viv and her fandom are in the same boat together, nothing much to say there.

So yeah in short, spindlehorse and Viv add too much of themselves in helluva boss and it backfires because its not funny, relatable, problematic etc. Some separation between creator and product is key to avoid a lot of this as mentioned, getting too personal with your product especially if its released to a wider audience can save you a lot of hurt and backlash if what you're adding personally of yourself is problematic etc but you don't see it as such.

Sorry for such a long post ╭( ๐_๐)╮ I threw myself this morning into doing a lot of law past exam papers so my writing off the wall.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #my post #spindlehorse critical #asked and answered #ty for the ask anon!#looooooong post sorry

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around1302 · 1 year

Text

XVI. OUR SONG

SPARE PARTS: a series (16/20)

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

(W) strong language, slight handjobs, cockwarming, implant protected sex, drug use

CHARLIE’S POV

Deciding to go for a nap after those events of the living area was a good idea in theory. Sleep the next two hours away, pretend like it never happened, wake up in Amsterdam and get ridiculously high.

But ideas are always better in theory.

Slowly after I collapsed onto my bed, pulled the curtain and forced the blankets to my eyes, I heard the rest of the guys trudge through. They were probably talking about Harry and I before returning to the beds, and my stomach had been churning at the thought until I decided to just distract myself on Twitter.

Now, I’m a hundred tweets deep into a debate on cockwarming. Weird, weird morning.

Scanning through the words with a furrowed brow, I can’t understand the debate. I don’t particularly understand the activity. My sex life has been pretty sheltered (by choice, I might add) and warming a cock isn’t something I’m especially used to.

So, I text the biggest slut I know.

have u ever tried cockwarming?

Sent 06:04

I’m not even sure if he’s awake, or willing to answer that question, so I quickly return to Twitter and–

I practically throw my phone across the small space as orange light is suddenly shed into my bunk, the speed and sound of the curtain making me gasp loudly and nearly bang my head on Niall’s bunk above me.

My heart’s still beating a million miles a minute, but I start to calm down when I realise I’m not about to be murdered (I think) and that it’s just Harry – looking like he woke up all of two seconds ago.

“What?” He hisses, mussed curls hanging around the collarbones beneath the Fleetwood shirt he’s adorning.

“Ssh,” I quickly interrupt, trying to keep my voice as low as possible. “Someone’s gonna hear, what are you doing?”

Without warning, Harry starts to climb in, moving me up the twin mattress full we’re squashed together and then he draws the curtain back – leaving us in pitch darkness. I blindly reach above me to pull the dim bunk lighting on, noticing just how tired his features look. He’s all puffy lips and cloudy eyes looking down at me.

“Harry, someone’s going to know–”

He lifts a finger to his lips, silencing me as he holds up his phone, revealing my message. I gulp. My eyes meet his, trying to mentally have some sort of conversation.

I’m laid on my back, him hovering half above me on his left elbow so that his legs are pressed firmly against mine. By accident, pure instinct, muscle memory if anything – I look down. His sweatpants seem to have swelled in the same place they had before.

It’s dangerous, especially considering everyone on this bus – in this room – know about us now. But fuck it. We never finished what we started, and I didn’t mean to trigger something with that text, but I’m not one to complain about a little spontaneity. What else have we got left to lose?

So I press my thumb over his and lock his phone, slipping it next to mine at wall side of the bunk. I reach between us, my hand finding his semi and palming him through his joggers.

Harry gasps, loudly, to which I glare at him and stop.

He mouths an apology, sealing it with a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. I hide a smile as I begin to palm him again, basking in the glorious sight that is Harry Styles becoming undone around my touch.

The motherfucker always has to one up me, however.

His hand slips back into my sweats, rubbing me over my knickers and picking up a speed that has me gasping. I bite my lip, the eye contact nearly unbearable as we get each other more hot, more bothered by the second.

When his fingers move my pants to the side and start to swipe over my bare clit, I have to bury my head in his chest and muffle my quiet cries against his shirt. My hips buck against his fingers, and the moment I grip the side of his hip he whispers,

“Please.”

I lift my head, understanding his plea and quickly nodding. I push his joggers down, pulling his briefs with them, and start to work his dick – achingly hard. He shivers when I touch him, biting down on my shoulder before flipping us over. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, gripping for dear life onto his left forearm loosely hanging around my neck.

Harry pulls my sweats down too (a difficult feat in a twin sized box) and reaches around to keep rubbing at my clit. Something about Harry’s fingers are fucking magic; it needs to be studied. Scientifically.

He kisses the spot on my shoulder he bit earlier, lifting my right leg a little as he guides himself into me. I turn my face into his arm, mouth hanging open as I push back. I can feel his short gasps into my hair, the way his bicep tenses around me. He holds my hip to pull me back and forth against him, slowly, and my fingers dig half-moons into his skin while they blanch and I try my best not to make a noise.

The bed has other plans, however.

Any sudden movement makes the mattress creak, and the more he thrusts in and out, the more I can feel it shake, too. Harry seems to notice, as well, because he’s getting slower with each squeak and pauses after every shake.

The thrill of it is fun, and the feel of his dick is even funner, but the guys sleeping only a few feet from us makes me grab his thigh behind me.

Maybe we can’t fuck, but I did just read a Hell of a lot about cockwarming.

I shake his thigh a little to make him realise he needs to stop, to which he does and instantly pulls out of me. But, I shake my head, and push his cock back inside me.

“Sweetheart,” Harry pants, “I can’t move.”

“Good,” I whisper, “isn’t that the point?”

It seems to take him a second to remember the actual reason why he came over to my bunk, but when it hits him he breathes out a chuckle and nods against the back of my shoulder.

“Sit up.” I murmur.

Harry does as asked, pulling out of me again so we can change position. We sit up as best we can in the bunk, and soon I’m straddling him and cursing myself for shifting position: he’s hitting deeper, now, and fuck. Maybe this was a bad idea. Especially with how his brows pinch when I sink down on him, when I move my hips slightly to adjust.

“You’re trying to kill me, Greene.”

This position also gives me the chance to look at him again. His features are less tired and more dishevelled now, and I can’t help but trace the outline of his pink lips with my index. He kisses my finger, tracing circles on my back.

It’s a weird feeling, having Harry inside of me, unmoving. Oddly whole, despite my urge to grind, circle, move – anything. It just feels… close. Comforting, if anything.

“Have you ever done this, then?” I murmur.

He tilts his head, a flicker of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Cockwarming?”

The way he says it makes my thighs clench. His jaw does, too. “Sorry.” I huff out a quiet giggle. He smiles.

“Do you really want to talk about my sex life?”

I shrug. “I don’t know anything about your sex life.”

His eyebrows shoot up at that, his tongue poking his cheek. “You seem to give me a lot of shit about something you don’t know.”

I roll my eyes. “I know you fuck, you make that clear. I just…” I trace my hands down his shirt, watching the way the muscles on his arms ripple and his grip on my thighs tighten as I do so. “Tell me about Rachel.”

“You know Rachel.” His tone seems firmer, now.

“I know she bartends with Zayn.” I don’t know why I’m pushing this, I’m not even sure I particularly want to know the ins and outs of what Harry does when he’s not doing me. But a part of me has to know. “Tell me about your relationship with her.”

“We don’t have a relationship.” Harry snaps.

I swallow thickly. I want to tell him to remember to keep his voice down, but the words get stuck in my throat.

“So, what, you just bang her whenever you see her? Smoke her weed, text her when you’re in cities thousands of miles away?”

“We’re friends.”

“You’re friends with your hookups?”

“It is possible, you know.”

“Didn’t think you were capable.”

“Trying to start an argument with my cock inside you isn’t a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“You’d prefer princess again?”

“I’d prefer my name.”

Harry sighs. I tug at the hem of his shirt anxiously as if it were my own. He moves his hands upwards, gripping my hips and grinding me against him, slowly, and only once. The action has my eyes closing, however. I nearly forgot I’m sat on his dick.

“Charlie.” He whispers. My eyes open.

“Charlie,” he repeats, grinding me against him again. My palms flatten against his torso, gasping as he moves me once, twice, three times.

I ball the material of his tee around my fists, starting to move with him. He sits up, his face inches from mine as he snakes one hand up to the nape of my neck and starts to tug at the hair there.

He speaks against my lips, now.

“Charlie.”

With every time he says my name, another level of fuck a squeaky bed and fuck the fact everyone’s in the room adds to how fast I move my hips – until we’re swallowing each others gasps with our mouths and his fingers pull at my hair so tightly I have to hold onto his shoulders for stability.

“Charlie,” he pecks my lips, “Charlie,” another, “Charlie,” another.

My bunk becomes a symphony of hushed moans and my name being relayed back to me in a thousand different progressions of need until we’re coming and his name gets added to the song, too.

“So, since we all heard you guys fucking earlier, I think you owe us the first round.”

I flush red while Harry just rolls his eyes at Niall’s insinuation. I knew it was a bad idea.

“Keep it down, yeah?” Harry shuts him up for us. I smile in gratuity at him.

We’re waiting outside the Grey Area, the coffee shop notoriously small and incredibly popular, whilst I border on an anxiety attack because despite the legality of weed here – I’m convinced someone will recognise us and somehow our careers will be fucked.

Disguised in sunglasses and dark hoodies, we’re practically unrecognisable, but it only takes a staff member to ask us to remove our hoods and boom: shit show.

“Okay, found us a table guys,” Zayn rushes out to us, to which the six of us quickly follow, a trail of guilt behind me.

Zayn still doesn’t know about Harry and I, and yes. No one was supposed to know about Harry and I – but now they do, and the one person it may actually effect is in the dark.

“Isn’t this gonna make us too hungover to perform tomorrow?”

“Weed doesn’t give you a hangover, Niall,” Louis throws his arm around the only newbie, “welcome to the wonderful world of marijuana.”

We all take up our booth, keeping our glasses on and hoping no one spots us. The last thing we want today is a mob. A waiter comes over, smiling sweetly at us all and looking half-high himself.

“Hoi, waarmee kan ik je op weg helpen?”

“Zes mimosa's, alstublieft.”

“Jesus, you speak Dutch, too?”

Harry shrugs beside me, smirking as the waiter thanks him and leaves to put our order in. I’m wedged in between Zayn and Harry – and I don’t even notice till I catch Amelia’s pointed glare and realise why I recognised the scent of cedar and smoke.

“Feel like we haven’t spoken in ages,” Zayn murmurs in my ear once the group splits into conversation. I feel Harry’s hand ghost the space behind my head

Talk about a rock and a hard place.

“Mm,” I murmur, fiddling with my sleeves.

“I don’t want you to feel freaked out,” Zayn keeps his voice low, but I feel Harry’s eyes on my profile. “I know I’ve made my feelings clear, but we’re still friends, yeah?”

“Zayn, I don’t want to get into this here.”

“But I–”

“Six mimosas.”

Our infused drinks are laid before us, thankfully cutting Zayn off and stopping the creeping panic. Harry’s glare cuts from me too, and I sigh in relief before downing my drink before I can participate in the Amelia-triggered cheers.

“Okay…”

Then everyone follows suit.

I raise my hand, gaining the attention of our waiter. I circle my hands around the group, waving my glass. He nods knowingly, disappearing back to the bar.

“Jesus, Charlie. You trying to white out by midday?” Louis guffaws, wiping the liquid from his bottom lip.

“What the fuck is a white out?” Niall looks like a deer in headlights. Everyone chuckles.

“Relax, buddy,” Liam claps his shoulder, “it probably won’t happen.”

“Probably?”

“Shut up before you give the poor guy a heart attack.” Amelia intercepts, reassuringly rubbing Niall’s chin. He sinks into her touch, and I melt at the PDA.

Usually I cringe away and make some childish comment about them getting a room, but lately their affection seems to be something I crave. To touch so openly, to love so visibly. It looks nice.

“You good, Greene?” I hear Harry’s voice in my right ear. I nod a little too largely.

Our next round arrives, and just as I go to tip this one back too, Harry presses his index to the bass of the flute, discreetly keeping it to the table.

“What are you doing?” I mumble.

“We have the whole day,” his eyes seem softer than I imagined them to be when I meet them. “Just pace yourself a little.”

“Sorry, dad.”

“Don’t trigger my daddy kink.”

I let out the ugliest squark of a laugh. Everyone gapes at me as I smack my palm against my mouth, and I see Harry shift in my peripheral, covering his own face and stifling laughter.

“You feeling it already, mate?” Louis cocks a brow.

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

“Fuckin’ Amsterdam.” Zayn chuckles beside me.

Everyone cheers to that.

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