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#i like the ramen episode

yugioh-why-not · 2 years

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I have one question with Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens. Do they not know you can just play duel monsters how ever you want on a desk without the holograms and duel disks? get five penalties who cares! No one can stop you from duelling on your bedroom floor, what are they going to do? send in a squat team and be like ‘kids! How dare you play a game meant for children!!!’

They just stress about the penalties so much -w-

#i do like yugioh sevens so far #I've only seen like 10 -20 episodes though cause I went bback to uni and work so I haven't been able to watch more yet #but so far it's fun to watch #i like the ramen episode #and the judging their faces episode #gavin's my favourite character ATM #i wanna draw him when I have more time >u<#but just been thinking about this recently #this is a rehtorical question more so just a random thought XP #yugioh #ygo #yugioh sevens #(it's on tv at the moment in the mornings but I have all morning classes so I can't watch it til break -_-)

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theloopcrew · 3 months

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oh i want this to be out there somewhere too. this is from like a week or so ago

#i repeat 'he looks like maybe he has a head injury' to myself every time hes being stupid in an episode #is he doing ok.#zeni #ep Whichever one the cup ramen one is #p2

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sophoscorner · 2 months

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I love Teruhashi because she's the perfect pretty girl. She smiles nicely. She's polite. She's never rude. She never embarrasses herself. She eats the bad food because she's nice inside and out and thats why everyone loves her.

I love Teruhashi because she knows she's pretty, but she's not allowed to say it because a really pretty girl never knows she's pretty. Even if they keep telling her again and again and again and again. She doesn't know she's pretty. She's just the same as everyone else really.

I love Teruhashi because she has to be careful who she's nice to or they'll start fights. Everyone loves her and no one can have her because she's just too pretty. It'd be unfair if one person had her and the others didn't.

I love Teruhashi because she really is a horrible person for believing what everyone says about her. Its so wrong of her to be nice to everyone only so they'll keep loving her. But, its okay because we the audience she through her lies. We know she's secretly terrible. Secretly ugly. And it's all because she knows she's pretty.

#teruhashi kokomi #the disastrous life of saiki k #I really do love her #that one episode where they go to the horrible ramen shop and she eats the horrible ramen anyway because a pretty girl wouldn't refuse #and Saiki's like maybe she really is perfect if she's willing to go that far #also love the heteronormativity and perfectionism of her always chasing after Saiki #look theres this perfect guy thats safe to be in love with because he'll never like her and never start ww3 #and he doesnt like her!? why not? there has to be some reason! something she can do to show him shes the perfect pretty girl

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malintzyn · 10 months

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anime is normally horny - i understand this

and usually i dont watch the overly horny ones, it bores me and is mostly kinda uncomfortable.

but i didnt expect this anime to be THIS horny (even if the first thing they talked abt was the preference of ass over boobs(and All they talk about is BOOBS))

yet i am so fucking captivated

its funny, its weird, its beautiful, its so STUPID!!

overall, this is a great show!

#space dandy #anime #boobs? i guess #i just noticed the ship of the bad guys has a ball gag #yknow #the ship shaped like the statue of liberty #the boob-death-monster-alien thing???#kinda cool #im not even THAT uncomfortable or weirded out by it!#the main Ugh part was meow taking pervy pics of some waitresses #oop he just ate a lady?#idk im blogging as im watching. its crazy #zombie episode!#QT is an absolute doll!!#lovely show #i want to go to the ramen dimension :(

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woman-child91 · 2 years

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Sasori and Minato see each other a few years after the Chūnin Exams. They’re both 16.

Sasori: *He’s still wearing that heart shaped locket I gave him all those years ago. It’s a good thing he’s so oblivious and hasn’t figured out it was meant as courting.*

Minato: It’s nice to see you again.

Sasori: Minato, give me that locket.

Minato: Huh?

Sasori: I don’t know what I was thinking. That’s not a good gift for a boy.

Minato: …

Sasori: *reaches for the necklace* I’ll get you some-

Minato: *takes a step back* Please, don’t take it! You gave it to me. It’s my most valuable possession! *starts tearing up*

Jiraiya: *What the heck? Does Minato have a crush on this Sand brat or something?*

Rasa: *This is awkward.*

Baki: *Okaaay. Did I miss something here?*

Mikoto: *Poor Minato. He looks like he’s about to cry at any moment.*

Teuchi: *Why is he trying to take back that promise necklace? Doesn’t he like Minato anymore?*

Sasori: *blinks in shock*

Minato: Please, don’t. Don’t take it back. *tears are about to roll down his cheeks*

Sasori: *speechless* Uh, sure. Fine. You keep it then, doll.

Minato: *smiles sweetly* Thank you, Pinocchio.

Sasori: *Does this mean that he understands my feelings now? Does he like me too?*

Minato: *I’m so glad I got to keep it. I couldn’t bare to part with it. Specially because, Sasori’s the one who gave it to me. He’s a very dear friend of mine.*

#naruto au #team jiraiya #team rasa #sasomina #sasori x minato #code geass season 2 episode 3 #minato is a very innocent and clueless person. I think he probably wouldn’t be able to tell if he likes Sasori as more than a friend #but he definitely does #jiraiya #rasa naruto #baki naruto #sasori naruto #minato namikaze #mikoto uchiha #teuchi naruto #ramen guy

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seireitonin · 2 months

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Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby

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ilovejoo · 1 year

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｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

habits they get from dating you; enhypen

word count: 1.5k warnings: n/a gn!reader a/n: like & reblog & follow for more; new blog here lol THANK U FOR READINGG

heeseung

always looking for you in a crowd to make sure you were doing okay, even if the situation doesn't call for worry

at parties, he can't help but scan the room to look for your familiar eyes. were you doing okay? were you having fun?

when performing while you're in the audience, he looks for your approval in the crowds while also ensuring that you were safe. was his singing as good as the singing he shows you at 3am on the living room couch? were you being trampled by his fans?

this type of habit that he developed is something he really can't help: though he trusts you to take care of yourself, he just wants the best for you.

subconsciously putting food on your plate before he takes his own

this can mean sneaking an extra choco pie into his pocket from a en-o-clock episode site or grilling the meat and placing it on your plate for you during kbbq nights. he grabs the first slice of pizza for you, reaches for the best piece of pie for you, and makes sure you have food to eat before he starts taking and shoving his own food into his mouth, even though everyone knows how much he values eating.

he saves the first, last, and best bites for you. if he knows you like a certain side dish, he'll move his onto your plate.

jay

making meals for two rather than one, or eight rather than the seven of his group

he got so used to cooking for you that even when you aren't there, he finds himself making a bigger meal than he used to out of habit.

two servings of ramen- damn, he only meant to make it for himself, but he added two on accident since two is the amount he makes every time.

whenever he's cooking, naturally he adds a few scoops extra of each ingredient without even thinking; caring for you and making sure you have food to eat is something he does subconsciously.

calling you "my" when talking to other people, as in "my baby," "my y/n," "my darling"

you overheard him talking to jungwon while referring to you as "my y/n," and you felt your heart skip a beat. "my y/n baked me a cupcake the other day!" or "my darling studied all night for their exam, i hope they aren't too tired."

the way you both know that he is yours and you are his is something that incorporated itself into his daily life and daily conversations.

jake

seeing you in every little thing, from the clouds in the sky to his eyes naturally spotting your favorite snack

his members are tired of hearing "oh y/n likes this!" "this looks like y/n!" "this reminds me of when y/n..." jake cannot get you out of his head, he is so down bad for you that every little thing reminds him of you.

somehow he will connect the color of a random car to the time when you went to the movies together and the commercial that played had the same shade of gray somewhere in it. romantic?

saying "i love you" literally every waking moment

when you wake up, in your sleepy eyes and messed up hair, he can't help but express the love he holds for you. seeing you shove a cupcake into your mouth: he's never seen anything more perfect in his life. you scored a 50% on your final exam: it's completely fine!

everything from your strengths to your flaws about you is so perfect, mesmerizing, lovable to him, and so he finds himself saying the words "i love you" every hour, every day. every time he feels grateful to have you in his life, he says a quick "love you," which is much more often than you would think.

sunghoon

playing with your fingers whenever you were next to him

like in iland where often he found himself fidgeting with the hand of the person next to him, your hand is always in his once he mustered the courage to grasp it the first time. rings, fingers, nails, anything on your hands becomes his personal fidget toy: all anxieties gone, all pressures relieved, everything perfectly fine. sometimes he will crack your knuckles, pinch your skin, earning a playful slap on his shoulder from you; the different ways he plays with your hands are endless.

asking questions like "did you sleep well?" or "was the food good?"

is this him being awkward and not knowing what to say to fill up silence, or is this him being a caring boyfriend? neither of you know, but you do know that he still genuinely wants to know in order to check up on you and make sure everything is good. his "did you like the chicken" translates to "i love you and i want everything to be just perfect in your life."

sunoo

attentively studying the hair stylists to learn how to do your hair when he gets back home

whenever his stylist tries something new on him, a different idol from another group, or one of his members and he finds himself particularly liking it, he studies it to the best of his ability to best replicate it when he sees you again. the way the straightener moves, the type of products to use: he memorizes it all.

he will see a certain style and think about how good it would look on you, and how he needs to see it on you asap, so learning from a real professional would be the best way to do it.

saving saturday nights for dates and building his schedule around it every week

"wait, saturday night? i can't, i have plans." he did not have plans.. yet. but! every saturday is saved for you, no matter what. therefore, on the way home, he picked up some face masks and candles for a self care night.

he finds himself saving every single saturday night just for you, no matter what may come up. he loves spending time with you, so having this time together means a lot to him.

jungwon

taking selfies everywhere to send mini updates of literally his entire life

you're his personal diary at this point, with the number of selfies and pictures he takes and sends to you. you thought he takes a lot of pictures for his fans? while that is true, he takes double the amount for you.

he makes up for all the time you guys are apart by updating you on things like his meals, practice ending, going to sleep, his member leaving his sock on his bed, etc. does it get too personal sometimes? yes, but you love it.

watching for your safety whether you are known for your clumsiness or not, his hands always ready to grab you

whether this means walking on the outer side of the sidewalk or hovering over you when you walk down the stairs, your safety is his priority.

when you bend down to grab something, he walks behind you so you feel safe, covered, and nobody bumps into you. when your head is dangerously close to the corner of a table, his hand gravitates between your head and the edge to prevent any potential injuries.

he can't bear to see you hurt or in pain, so he'll do his best for that not to happen.

niki

always sleeping with something by his side, and he can't sleep without the feeling of another presence right next to him

his members have been replaced by you at night sleeping next to him. twiddling with your hair as your eyes began to close, snuggling into that crook in your neck: all flows right into his nightly routine. after a while, he got too used to your warmth that whenever you are absent, he can't fall asleep.

this is where weighted stuffed animals, heated blankets, and such came into play; he really could not sleep without you, or at least a subpar replica of you.

dancing, singing, and trying to look his best whenever you're around to impress you and earn words of praise

"y/n look over here!" he'd do a quick but fancy dance move that he learned in the middle of your living room.

"wait, watch this." he'll play a video of him that heeseung took of him shooting a basketball into the hoop from afar.

"did you see our new performance? wasn't i just so cool in it?" he will say anything to hear praise coming from your lips: of course, he hears it all the time from his fans, but hearing it from you has a different meaning, so he makes sure to always look his best and impress you with all that he does.

he wants to look ultra cool and awesome in front of you, but can you blame him? he's just so in love with you.

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yxngbxkkie · 5 months

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touchy (b.c)

hi, hi!! i know it's been a while since i've posted. i'm trying to pump out ideas, but my writing motivation has gone down a bit. but i saw a tik tok earlier and thought of this short idea 🫢 i absolutely need this man, and i hope you guys enjoy this 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

You can hear Chan watching Jujitsu Kaisen from the kitchen, a chuckle leaving your lips after hearing his gasps. You really love how immersed he gets when watching shows and movies. It's really cute.

“Chan, baby?” You call out to him, poking your head out towards the living area. “Can you grab the drinks?”

He pauses the show before sprinting up from the couch. He glides a hand across your lower back as you place an even amount of ramen into two bowls. Chan hums while standing behind you, inhaling the scent of the food.

“It smells so good, baby,” he whispers into your ear, gently squeezing your hip.

The tips of your ears begin to turn red as you feel slightly hot and bothered. You thank him quietly, and he moves away to grab a drink for both of you.

You grab the two bowls and bring them into the living room, setting them onto the coffee table. You lower yourself to the floor afterward, placing a pair of chopsticks into your bowl before setting another pair into Chan's.

“Thank you for the meal,” he sings while setting your drink in front of you.

He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. You glance up at him, smiling softly as Chan takes a sip of his water. His eyes find yours after, and the corner of his plump lips twitch into a smile.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Chan asks shyly, feeling a little embarrassed at your loving stare.

“I just love you,” you mention, leaning over to kiss his warm cheek. “And, you're so pretty.”

He giggles, dropping his gaze to the ramen in front of him. “Stop, you're prettier,” he mumbles, grasping his chopsticks.

Your heart skips a beat, and the two of you begin to eat. Chan resumes the episode, and the only sound that can be heard is the slurping of noodles.

Moments like this are your favorite. You would give anything to have more of them, but you realize how demanding Chan’s job can be. It doesn't take very long for both of you to finish, somehow timing it perfectly with the end of the episode.

You move to clean up when Chan stops you. “I got this, baby. Pick something to watch,” he assures you with a grin, handing you the remote.

“So sweet,” you sigh while shaking your head. He giggles and leans over to kiss your lips. The kiss lasts a few seconds, and you chase his lips after he pulls back.

“That's you, baby,” he says cheekily before grabbing the empty bowls.

You have to stop yourself from biting your knuckles. You've never been so in love with someone before, and you're glad that it's with him. A sigh leaves your lips, and you pull yourself up from the floor, laying across the gray couch.

You aimlessly scroll through Netflix, humming to yourself as you try to find something interesting to watch. The sound of Chan washing the dishes echo off the apartment walls.

“Channie?” You call out to him, looking at the horror movies. You hear him say your name before you start speaking again. “How much do you love me?”

The sound of the water running stops before his footsteps grow louder. “It depends on what you want,” he laughs, walking towards the couch. “But, very much, why?”

You look over your shoulder as he kneels on both sides of your legs. “Can we watch a horror movie?” You ask him, giving him your best puppy-eyed look.

“What?” He whines, turning to look at the television. His hands rest on the back of your thighs, and thumbs massage the muscle.

Even though you're wearing leggings, his touch excites you just a smidge. “Just one! I'll even let you cuddle me,” you wink at him, clicking on a movie that sounds good.

“You're so lucky I love you,” Chan groans before agreeing.

You giggle in excitement and press play, setting the remote onto the table. Chan gets up from the couch, tapping your legs to move them. You lift your legs up, allowing the brunette to sit before resting your legs across his lap.

As the movie starts, you realize it's not too scary. Which you're sure Chan is thankful for. You've tried to focus on the plot for almost five minutes, getting distracted by your boyfriend running his hands along your legs.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, feeling the butterflies in your stomach. Chan's hand moves to your ass cheek, gently squeezing it like a stress ball. You let out an involuntarily hum, biting your lip harder.

“You okay, baby?” Chan asks, his hand moving back to your thigh.

“I'm okay,” you whisper, not trusting your voice. You rest your head on your arms, your fingers squeezing your forearm.

You can feel his eyes on you as his hand strokes the back of your thigh. “Are you sure?” He asks again, a smirk etching on his lips.

You lift your upper half and turn to look back at him. “Perfectly fine,” you reassure him while his hand travels back to your ass. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his hands, and Chan giggles.

“Mm, okay,” he says and turns his gaze back to the movie.

Your eyes remain on him as his massaging continues. You internally curse and move your body. Chan's hands drop onto the couch, and his eyes follow your figure as you stand up. You straddle his lap, resting your hands on top of his shoulders.

“Do you have any idea what your hands do to me?” You whisper to him, closing the distance between your faces.

Chan smirks at you and gently presses a kiss on your lips. “I have an idea,” he mentions after pulling away, resting his head on the back of the couch.

He moves his hands up your sides, dipping his fingers beneath his shirt you're wearing. You wet your lips while combing your fingers through his curly hair. You lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, needing to feel him close to you.

The massaging of your body continues, one of his hands slipping underneath your leggings. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?” He asks, gliding his plump lips along your neck.

You nod your head without hesitation, a staggering breath escaping your lips. Chan sucks on your soft skin, leaving a couple of marks. “Please,” you end up begging, tugging his hair to reconnect your lips.

Chan hums and removes his hands from your body. He grabs the remote from the table and turns the television off. After setting the remote back down, his arms wrap around your thighs before lifting you off the couch.

“I'm pretty glad I have tomorrow off,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. Chan gently sets you down on the bed before slowly turning you over. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands glide up the back of your legs. “I can spend all night appreciating your body.”

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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razzle-n-dazzle · 3 months

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hello, friend!! i saw your adam hcs and i loveddd themmm!! i was hoping to request smth if that’s okay? could we get lucifer with a reader who also struggles with depression like he does (it’s mentioned in episode five if you didn’t know!!) and maybe reader had a practically rough week and gets home from work and just breaks down in tears, and luci find a way to cheer them up? either fem! or gn! reader if that’s chill, tysm for taking your time to consider this even if you don’t get to it!!

— 🪽anon

ᯓ★ "Give Your Corpse Some Smile Lines." Lucifer / Reader | Oneshot TW! Read at your own risk and comfortability! | talks about depression, suicidal topics/actions, overdosing topics/actions, reader breaking down, hurt to comfort, self destruction, abuse

ᯓ There are days and weeks, sometimes months and years, that prolonged like time, made it appear like it no longer moved and served a purpose. Like time was nothing but a feign idea that was made to torture everyone and anyone who dared think about it, who dared to calculate how it traveled and how long it took to pass a minute. And some days it made people want to break, and some day it made people want to kill other people, and some days it made people overjoyed, and some days it made people excited, and some days it made people nervous, and some days. . . It made you want to die.

ᯓ To be killed in the most brutal fashion known to man, to explode in a death either as silent as taking your own life in your own home or as bright and fantastic as the explosion of fire works. Time for you was never a friend and it continued to taunt you after you had died, overdosing on the pain medication you were prescribed after a horrible accident. Horrific! You had heard people call you, friends and family, after they saw the state of your decaying body after being rammed by a truck who lost control. Monstrous! None of them chose to stay around, none chose to help you when you were at your weakest and worst, when you could barely help yourself. And all you had done back then was help them! Was care for them! Be there for them at any time of the day whenever they needed, whenever they wanted, whenever they asked or called or texted or shouted or pleaded or-

ᯓ And it was a coward move, you were sure. Weak, many would call it, blasphemous and you were sure it was why you never got into Heaven despite having done everything in your power to be okay, to be the perfect person everyone wanted, to be good. But one night, when everything was moving too slow and no one seemed to blink twice at your presence, you would take your own life in silence. To overdose on your own pills, both praying it wouldn't work but gain the attention of someone yet also praying it would kill you and finally let you live in peace. In a world of black nights where you didn't have to open your eyes no longer, where time wouldn't be creeping over your shoulder, where nothing would hurt anymore because dammit. . . everything hurt.

ᯓ IT ALL FUCKING HURT.

ᯓ And then you ended in hell, and then you realized this would be your life . . . and then you realized you were still stuck with your worst enemy of all: Time. Forever stuck in an eternity after life, forever stuck here by yourself, forever being another face in the crowd or another person on the street for people to pass by and not think about twice. Someone. Just someone! Not even someone, no one. Just a shell, just a person decaying on the streets, decaying for all to see. A pitiful show.

ᯓ You could hardly remember when you met Lucifer; Maybe you were down on your luck one day and was eating cold Ramen out of the streets and he took pity to sit by you, to talk to you. Maybe it was when you were at a bar, downing another drink to forget the fact that you were chained down here, chained to your enemy, chained to your eternity of a never ending moment of the hands of time. Maybe you were working your minimum wage job to barely survive, or maybe you bumped into him. You memory hadn't always been good, party due to your own mental health and a constant flight or fight response, yet you had always knew life to be so bleak before you had met him. And then one day, everything was slightly a bit more okay. And slowly everything was a little more barrable; Even just slightly.

ᯓ And maybe a life can be handled in eternity, and you didn't have to be alone anymore . . .

ᯓ Yet, no matter how much anyone wished, love cannot fix all problems. Love can teach you how to heal, love can teach you how to live, love can teach you how to handle everything inside of you in a better manner than self destruction. But love cannot instantly fix everything wrong with you; You should have realized that sooner.

ᯓ You lived a life nothing short of a fairy tale for the last few months, living life alongside a partner who you could share the weight of the world with. Who felt comfortable enough to share the weight of the world with you. Where in the days you both laughed and played, pushing and pulling each other, peppering kissing on skin and longing ones on the lips. And at night you cuddled against each other, both with the fear of losing, both with longing, both just enjoying the company you now had, that you could now share. You've already shared tears, concerns, worries, troubles. You've both been vulnerable under the other's eyes, staining shirts under the other's careful and cradling hug, broken down and rushed out apologies. You've already both taken care of each other, took your time and held patience with each other and you both tried to heal the broken pieces of one another. Most would call it a disaster, a tragedy, yet for you both . . . it was like some sort of twisted hope, knowing you were no longer alone in your self deprecation. Knowing that even if either of you tried to self destruct everything around you, tried to gain that control that's slipping away, tried to push the other away, they would understand and be there. That in the end of the day you had someone to crawl to.

ᯓ Yet even with constant oxygen and wood, a fire can still grow dim in it's own silence and try to snuff itself out.

ᯓ This week had been long, it had dragged you by the heels and you could no longer put the energy to fight against it's slowing seconds. Working a minimum wage job, even after Lucifer had told you that you never had to again (yet you continued to do so for some sort of feeling of schedule and stability), that you hated and wished you could quite for a paycheck that wasn't even that high to withstand the abuse you had to. Lucifer constantly worried about you, about how the job affected you both physically and mentally. You often came home either drained or hurt, as costumers tended to get rather violent down in Hell. It was common to be stabbed during a shift and having to endure it until your shift was over. Effectively causing you to bleed out while still having to rep a costumer service smile. And the stabbing might not even be the worst part of everything; As you had to try many times to bite back any sort of emotion, ire and frustration and sorrow, as costumers yelled, screamed, tossed shit your way for a mistake you didn't even make. And yet it was your fault. It was always your fault and you couldn't do anything but stand there and take it, as your job would be on the line if you did anything other than stand there and take the anger and take the frustrations and the yelling and the stabbing; Being everyone's personal punching bag without any sort of composition.

ᯓ What was the point of it?

ᯓ The thought had came to you one day after you came home, slugging your shoes off your feet and tossing your keys onto the counter. Lucifer wasn't home, he usually was, yet you guessed he had something better to do than hear your sorrows of the day. You would want to do anything than hear about your sorrows as well, you couldn't blame him for trying to avoid you. So you dragged yourself to the bathroom, heavily sitting down upon the close lid of the toilet before sinking down some. A hand rested upon your stomach, the knife that pierced through your side slid in between your fingers like it didn't draw your blood out. Like it wasn't causing you pain; not even the worst pain in your life, just pain that poked and pricked and brought tears to the eyes, but you were no stranger to tears or to blood. You were no stranger to the bruises that covered your body from angry costumers, from the blisters that grew from harsher treatment, from the blood that seeped and stained. And maybe you should take care of that wound, but it was best to keep a knife into the wound than take it out; It stopped bleeding and you hadn't stained that much, you didn't think, and you were oh so tired so maybe. . .just a nap would help. It didn't have to be a long one, yet something in the back of your mind hoped it would be, and you leaned your head back against the back of the toilet. The light above gave out a buzz, showing it was working, sounding that it was on and here.

ᯓ Yet a nap sounded nice.

ᯓ "Honey! I'm home!" Lucifer shout, a cheerful laugh followed and a careful grin was stretched on his face as he tried to balance the bags of groceries that were in his arms; Trying to make his one round of bringing groceries in to work. He didn't want to drop a single one of them, "I'm sorry I took so long, yet I went to the store and wow! There were a lot of options for things that I was sure I would never make it out of there! Did you know that there's like. . ." Lucifer would pause to count his fingers, having successfully delivered the bags onto the counter without breaking anything, ". . .15 different brands of milk?! And they had like this Milk called Almond milk, where they apparently milk the almond and I don't know how they do that but-" Lucifer's voice fell flat as soon as he noticed you weren't around, at least, not around as usual. By now you would have sprung from the couch, or yelled at him from the bathroom that you were doing your business, or came from the bedroom to wrap him in a hug. Yet your presence was absent and it didn't allude Lucifer, at least, not many more. "H . . . honey?" He would call out again, this time with a more shaken voice and frowned eyebrows; His smile no longer held the confidence of a man who managed to do one round of bringing groceries in with 13 bags.

ᯓ And yet you didn't respond to his call, how could you when your own breath was so shallow your heart was speeding up, stressing, just to pump blood through your body; And Lucifer grew worried. It would triple upon seeing the mess you had left, a mess that hadn't caught his eye until now. . . Your shoes left lazily by the door, your keys stained with blood. Blood that streaked like a hand across the counter top and traveled inward, towards the bathroom and it's door that lingered tauntingly open. And instantly, Lucifer felt his mouth run dry and his feet speed towards the bathroom with nothing but horrible thoughts piling up in his head. You were hurt and you weren't answering his calls. You were hurt and you weren't doing anything to signal to him that you were okay. Are you okay? Are you dead? Oh god he hoped he didn't get to that bathroom door and see your dead body there, all stained and pale. Please don't be dead, please please please. . . "OH MY GOD!-" Lucifer hated to admit the way his body froze in horror by the doorway, one hand clinging onto the frame and the other shot up to cover his mouth. He hated the way his feet stuck to the ground like they were rooted, forcing him to look at your bleeding and barely breathing figure on the floor.

ᯓ And no, he didn't miss the way your blood was smeared on the toilet. He could never miss such a detail when your blood was the last thing he ever wanted to see seep out of your body and pool and stain everything around you.

ᯓ "Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" The words fell out of his lips, fell onto deaf ears, as he ripped his rooted feet off the ground and rushed over to you, to your body. He felt dazed, confused, unsure of himself all of a sudden. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? "Hey, don't be dead come on!-" He didn't realize he was rambling to himself as he kneeled down next to you, not minding the way your blood seeped and stained his white clothes. He shuffled around, looking for your wound, looking for something he could fix to help you! He was so panicked, and had to stich up your wounds so often, that the thought of calling a doctor didn't cross his mind. Lucifer was hesitant to touch you, but didn't want to hurt you, "Wound, wound wound! Where the fuck is your wound?!" He asked before spotting the knife that was jagging out your side. It was mostly covered by your body, as he had happened to kneel down on the opposite side of where your wound pierced in. "Oh fucking duh, it's where the knife is. Nice job Lucifer can't spot a fucking knife when your lover is bleeding out on the floor!- Shit wait I need to actually take care of that. Fuck! Where the hell is the first aid kit?!"

ᯓ To say Lucifer was freaking out during the whole process of taking out the knife, tossing it to the side to be picked up later, disinfecting your wound, trying to stitch it up with shaking hands, and wrapping you up. . . would be an understatement. He was terrified to hold you, afraid he might make the wound worse or he might put you in more pain, yet somehow managed to move you from the bathroom floor to the couch in the living room. He would have put you to bed, at least provided your body a little more comfort, yet he was afraid to leave your side. Afraid that if he took his eyes off of you that something might happen, that you might roll onto the wound and break the sticking, that you might just stop breathing as a whole and leave him alone.

ᯓ He tried calling Charlie to help, yet physicked himself out right before he was going to press the call button. He needed some sort of help, he couldn't go through this alone, yet he didn't want to put his daughter through this either. All he could really do was find himself sitting in front of the couch, head resting upon the cushion, watching your chest rise and fall with heavy eyes; Just to reassure himself you were still here, that you were still alive and you could wake up. Maybe tomorrow? Hopefully. Maybe he should bring you to a hospital. Either way he was here, waiting, hoping.

ᯓ Fuck . . . He didn't know what he would do if you didn't wake up. But you did! By some grace of god you had happened to wake up in the middle of the night, the day after Lucifer had found you. He hadn't been awake, and you were barely moving due to the pain that jabbed at your side. Though you noticed the weight that indented the couch by the edge, slightly turning your head to see Lucifer's crossed arms and nuzzled head into it; He was sleeping, leaning against the couch while sitting on the floor. Drowsy, tired, you glanced over at the couch, wondering why he was sitting down there instead of up here with you. When did you even get to the couch? And then you noticed how you were wearing some of his clothes, with the shirt pulled up to expose your wrapped chest, the bandages still a stained a little crimson red. And you frowned, eyes heavy, looking down at the wound and realizing, at least to some sort of extent, why he wasn't up here. You had scared him . . . A heavy sigh left your lips as you reached a hand out, shaking, as you leaned down into the cushions. Gently, you placed your hand on top of Lucifer's, trying to intertwin your fingers without waking him. If anything, by the way he looked, you were sure he just managed to fall asleep . . . and most likely passed out from exhaustion rather than willingly succumbing to slumber.

ᯓ Though feeling the sudden warmth on his hands, and being half-awake and half-asleep in general, Lucifer's eyes fluttered open despite being rather heavy. He felt heavy, he felt tired . . . yet his hand felt warm, causing his eyes to glance down and notice your hand on top of his. Your hand, your thumb rubbing against his. "Love?. . ." He would mumble out, hoping this wasn't a dream, as he gently raised his head. You noticed the way his eyes sagged a little, his eyelids clearly heavy with eyebags starting to form under his eyes. The frown that had been on his face, tugged down out of pain, began, sluggishly, to tug into a warm smile. "You're awake. . . how are you feeling, do you need anything?" The way his voice croaked, clearly tired and clearly worn from tired and sobbing. His disheveled look, the way his hair was more frazzled than normal and the way his clothes were stained. It all made you upset; Not at him, no, you could never be upset at Lucifer. You were upset at yourself. For causing him so much pain, for making him probably so worried and panicked with the crawling thoughts of your death if he dared to ever take his eyes off of you.

ᯓ Lucifer, waiting for your answer, would gently bring your hand up to his cheek. He had missed your warmth, you had been so cold when he touched you last to move you from the tile of the bathroom floor to the plush cushions of the couch. He was glad that the warmth had returned to body, that he was able to watch your eyes sparkle in the dim lights that flooded in from the kitchen stove hood.

ᯓ His eyes were so gentle, his smile was so genuine, and all you managed to weakly croak out was a, "I'm sorry." And you felt bad feeling the warm tears starting to clump up in your eyes again and spill over. And you felt horrible as Lucifer shot awake, seeing your tears through the light of the kitchen, and rushed to bring his free hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tears. "I'm so sorry Lucifer I. . ." You would choked out, unsure what else to say. How else could you apologize to Lucifer when you knew that you had laid there, on the toilet, with the intention to hopefully die. And you didn't know how to tell Lucifer that to his face, especially when you've never had to tell anyone who's gotten as close to you as Lucifer has that you've thought about killing yourself. That you tried to plan it out in your shared home. Where you knew they would find you. Where you knew. . . "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're-" Lucifer paused for a second, glancing down at the side of your stomach. He had to reassure himself that you were alright before trying to comfort you, "-okay. You're okay now!" Lucifer grinned towards you, a little nervous at first before it fused out into more worry. "You're awake and you're not dying and it's okay! We can. . . talk about it all later okay? Just focus on getting better."

ᯓ You both would sit there in a comfortable, slightly-comfortable, silence as Lucifer stared up at you, and you stared back down at him. His hand, after having cleared your tears, hand reached up to play with your hair, trying to coax you back to sleep. Even when you knew he needed sleep himself, with the way his heavy eyes closed for long periods of time before opening again to meet mine. "Come here. . ." You would mumble, trying to reach for Lucifer, wanting to feel his warmth against yours. He was hesitant to do so, you could tell by the way his eyebrows scrunched upward and the frown that tugged on his lips. It took a while to coax him onto the couch, where even then he gingerly laid on his side and wrapped his arms cautiously a safe place above your bandages and nuzzled his head between the crook of your neck. You were able to play with his hair this time, give him a soft peck on the forehead. A silent apology for all the pain he had to endure because of you without you there to help, without the support he had shown you countless of times without fail.

ᯓ "I. . ." Lucifer's voice warily mumbled out, ". . .thought I was going to lose you." And the way his voice cracked broke your heart into a million pieces. And the only pathetic response you could muster back to him was a soft, shaken, "I'm sorry." As tears silently began to fall down your cheeks, and you could feel the silent tears that fell from Lucifer's eyes stain your neck. "I'm. . . so, so sorry. . ." "It's okay. . ." Lucifer would hug you a little tighter, "We'll work through it together, you're not going to lose me that easily, even if-" He would pause, choking out a bit of laughter between his tears, "-you try yourself."

ᯓ Oh. . . he knew. . .

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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ღ this barbie can cook

every single weekend, without fail, there is one thing that mick looks forward to that has absolutely nothing to do with the adrenaline from the race. it’s actually the fact that she makes him lunch all 4 days of a race weekend and they eat it together in honda’s cafeteria together while the prop up her ipad on the table and bond over a korean drama she managed to coax him into watching.

during pre-season testing in bahrain, she made him a lot of japanese food. japanese curry as promised, then a bowl of ramen, gyudon and then onigiri for race day.

for their first race weekend, korean food. korean fried chicken, bibimbap, japchae and bulgogi in that order. in jeddah, she tried threw him a wildcard of dishes while somehow still sticking to a theme: baked potato, mashed potatoes, potato soup and sauteed potatoes.

it’s a game they like to play every weekend — how long can mick decipher the theme of food she’s making him?

“hi,” she grins, dropping her bright pink lunch bag on the table. she thanks mick softly as he pulls the chair next to him out for her to take a seat. “i brought lunch!”

he smiles with a nod. it’s funny that she would say that as if it’s something that they did not establish beforehand — that she would be making him lunch every race weekend that they’re teammates. “did you now?”

“i made pakora,” she says as she starts to take out multiple tupperwares out from her bag. “fried veggies.”

“really?” he scrunches his nose with a frown, pulling a giggle as she throws her head back. “veggies on media day? you’ve gone cruel, barbie. where’s my junk food?”

she blinks at him, eyes wide as she formulates a response in her head. “it’s fried. it’s already junk food, mick.”

he scoffs, furrowing his eyebrows and scowling in feigned disgust. “this is ridiculous, barbie! vegetables on media day!”

she stiffens up and turns to him, blinking slowly. “you don’t like it? really?” her voice comes out softly and fragile as her lips quiver slightly. she starts to put the cover back on her tupperware. “we can just get something from catering. it’s okay.”

only then mick realises that he’s messed up. he’s always joked around with her, the girl either tilting her head in confusion at jokes with depth or simply faking a laugh to try and please him. otherwise, jokes usually just go over her head.

“no!” mick sits up quickly, patting her hands lightly, shaking his head profusely. “barbie, i was joking. usually you only give me the healthy food on race day — it’s media day. get it?”

she stares at him, eyes still wide and hesitant. “are you sure? it’s okay if you don’t want it, really.”

“barbie.” he tears her hands from the tupperware along its cover. “it was a joke. you know i look forward to your cooked lunches every weekend! thank you so much for cooking again.”

“you’re sure?”

he grins. “of course. so,” he taps on her ipad, “is the new episode out yet?”

instantly, she perks up as if forgetting her initial concerns. “yes! the new episodes are out — there’s 2!” she taps away on her ipad to turn on the show she’s decided they will watch and spend the entire day discussing.

“oh, cool. so, how long did it take you to make this meal?”

“just a while,” she shrugs. she takes out their utensils, offering the other pair to mick. “let’s have lunch!”

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bangtaninborderland · 1 year

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KNJ- Not so dinner date.

It’s late when you arrive home, the lights are off and the regular sounds of your boyfriend are null. You sigh as you shake off your jacket, sliding off your shoes only to replace them with house slippers.

The clock above the refrigerator is the only light in the kitchen and as dim as it is you don’t flick on a light, instead you slouch at the table snacking on the random fruits Namjoon had piled into a bowl.

The truth is you loved your boyfriend with your entire heart, there wasn’t ever a time when you felt as if you wanted to be away from him. Of course, his job as an idol was one that put distance between you, your own job not accommodating time for you to travel as often as he did but you still made it work.

“Baby?”

You almost jump out of your skin as you whip your head around to see him sulking towards you, his shoulders hunched over.

“I thought you were sleeping joonie, did I wake you?” You stood up, closing the space between you to wrap your arms around his middle.

You breathed in his smell, finding comfort in it. He had been addicted to this new rain forest scented fabric conditioner that Jungkook had introduced him to, he had explained to you for the hours BTS had to wait during music shows just how the different scents were drawn from different plants and trees and although you didn’t completely understand it you did your best to keep up.

“You didn’t wake me, I waited up. Do you want to order some food or did you eat?”

You shake your head reluctantly. “Joon it’s 11 pm, you have work tomorrow.”

“However could I work if I starved to death?”he groaned frantically, feigning a laugh.

You quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t eaten?”

“I did. Sort of.”

“Ramen does not count.”

“I did not.”

“How about we order fried chicken?” You smile.

Your first date had been at a park with awful fried chicken that you had gotten from a definitely dodgy van. You had both gotten stomach aches and ended up being treated at the hospital for food poisoning, through your short but required hospital stay you were put next to each other and despite the way you were both doubling over in cramps every few minutes you made the most of the time with one another, learning as much as you could.

He leads you over to the couch, pulling you into his arms. “You really want fried chicken?”

“It’s fast, just chose a good place.” You shrug earning a playful pinch from him.

A lot of your firsts happened over the simple meal, your first fight had occurred over it. You had only been dating a few weeks and Namjoon had gotten extremely busy planning a comeback with his members, it had left you barely any time with the man responding once a day if you were lucky. He had hauled himself up into his studio for almost a week straight refusing to do anything other than work on music. You were worried when Taehyung, whom you had only met twice prior, had called to ask for backup. You had stormed into the hybe building holding a box of fried chicken from his favourite place, you punched the code into his studio earning a harsh reprimanding from him as you demanded he saved his work and step away from the computer. He had argued how you couldn’t understand his stress and how it wasn’t going to work out between you, he had told you to leave and that you were just like everyone else; misjudging him. You remember the way his jaw fell open as you threw a pillow straight at him mid-rant. Soon enough he sat beside you on his little couch and picked at his chicken before devouring it in minutes. You had forced him to take you home where you had a three-hour-long conversation that ended up in him falling asleep in your lap.

“I ordered, it will be here in a little.” He threw his phone against the table.

You run your hands through his newly dyed hair, you always loved how black hair looked on him. “How was work today baby?”

“We filmed a run episode and I nearly won.” He smiled pridefully. “When will you come next?”

“I have been given tomorrow and Friday off if you want me to come with you?” It wasn’t a complete lie, you had requested the days off in order to make time for him.

He pushes you back a little, allowing a clearer look at your face. “Really? That soon?”

You smile at him nodding. “I guess I got lucky.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow, though.”

“Then stay home with me?” You smile, placing a kiss to his lips.

He says nothing but affirms by kissing you back before pressing a few more to your forehead.

You sat talking about your days until the food came 25 minutes later. As always you had requested to have it left at the door, it was always safer that way. After waiting for the driver to place the food outside and to leave the building Namjoon snuck outside to grab it.

You help set it out on the table as he put on a random show. You ate In silence watching the tv until a thought crossed your mind that you had to resolve.

“Joon can I ask you something?”

He looks at you worried, pausing the TV before turning to you. “Anything.”

“Do you ever wish we were different people? Maybe just farmers or something..” you half-joked, pushing your almost-finished meal aside.

“If you want a farmer you should try Jin Hyung or Taehyung.”

You can’t help but laugh as he flashes you a dimpled smile. “No I haven’t, amidst all the stress and lack of time we have with one another I could ever imagine being with someone different.”

“Why?” You watch his face twist in thought.

He hums for a moment before responding. “I love you. I liked you and then I loved you and in that time I learned that I’d rather have one day with you than a hundred days with anyone else.”

You let the weight of his words settle before responding. “You know joonie we have a lot of firsts over fried chicken.”

“What’s the first this time?” He laughs pushing his own food away before leaning back against the couch.

You started. “I could come home to an empty house for the entirety of your tour but I wouldn’t have it any other way because my heart is with you always and I know for every day you go we will have a week to make up for it. I was scared at first, scared we wouldn’t work, that you’d get too busy and forget about me but it’s small moments like these that give me the most clarification on my wants for the future.”

“And what are those wants?” He holds your hand in between his, something he does to show he is paying the utmost attention to you.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to eat fried chicken with you at midnight even though we have to be awake at 6 am, I want to share the excitement of what trees have their DNA stolen to make up fabric softeners you like, I want to be the one to give you comfort and happiness along with my unbridled support.”

“I want to give you the world.” He says the words softly but you know there’s a weight that they bare. “And I will but for now can I have your last wing?”

You scoff shoving the man off the couch onto the floor. “Unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable enough that I can have your last wing?” He eyes your chicken box and you raise a threatening finger.

“Don’t you dare.”

Before you could say anything he had already grabbed the box and ran halfway through the house, you cursed his long legs for aiding his getaway.

“Touch my chicken and your Pokémon cards get it.” You threaten.

You can’t help but laugh at his footsteps slap against the tiled flooring. “LEAVE MY CARDS ALONE”

“Give me my chicken wing.” You hold your hand out, as he does the same. You hand over his extra large Pokémon folder as he does your chicken box.

“Hey?” He calls as you turn to head back to the couch, box in hand.

He grins at you, before holding his arms out, one hand bearing his folder and the other your chicken wing.

“KIM NAMJOON!” You throw yourself over the couch as he scurries off.

About twenty minutes of play fighting and chasing later you both collapse on the bed in a laughing bundle. “I can’t wait to tell Yoongi Hyung we wrestled over a chicken wing.” Namjoon giggled.

“He would be horrified.” Your eyes widened.

“He would, he would probably lecture us on why we should never eat fried chicken again.”

A bout of silence befalls you before a great idea comes to mind. “Let’s call him and tell him we broke up over fried chicken.”

“You have such a sexy brain. He will go insane.” He agreed rushing to grab his phone.

You smiled at the ceiling, memorising the events of your not-so-dinner date. This is exactly why you made it work, because even at midnight you could run around and laugh with him, you could have thorough discussions and most importantly you would both indulge e in listening and sometimes enacting your wildest thoughts. Even if it did mean annoying a poor Min yoongi over Fried chicken on a Wednesday night.

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seeingivy · 9 months

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the met gala

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: the end contains some possibly triggering content. toxic man moment/unsafe situation so dni and protect ur peace if you need to.

an: fan service to the highest t. you want laufey? i'l give you laufey. you want sukuna? ill give you sukuna. did you ask for catoru gojo? no but i'll give it to you anyways. and the end is a nice yummy lil eren little fdklsfjdksljfkdlsjfkdsjk. also I changed real life met gala lore idgaf if they don't do real perfomances there bc they do now

songs mentioned: death of a bachelor by panic at the disco, seven by taylor swift, promise by laufey, and dorothea by taylor swift

previous part linked here

Eren waits for it in nervous anticipation. Because despite everything Hyla and Lana say, he knows for a fact that you won’t be staying silent. That Danny and Sareen wouldn’t let this slide and neither would you.

And it eats at him while he waits for the real response, beyond that video Connie posted of you, Mikasa, Connie, and Jean dancing to Girlfriend and your tweets about how much you loved the song.

He’s positive that a forty second video can’t be all you’re doing. People loved it and thought it was funny. But surely that can’t be it.

“I can’t believe all your friends sided with her. I thought you were close with Connie.” Lana mentions.

“I was. Before you did that.” Eren responds, clenching his jaw. He can feel anger surging through his blood, every minuscule fraction of frustration building even more - like it had been for the past three days since the awards show.

It's irritating how quick things crumble down. He figures this is what Sukuna was talking about. Because the last time he talked to Connie was when Mikasa called him and it was nothing short of irritating.

Eren’s phone rings in the middle of the night and he’s nearly scrambling out of his bed because he thinks it’s you. Nine hours after the awards show and you’ve finally gotten the chance to respond.

Except he sees Mikasa’s name flashing across the screen, accompanied with her contact picture which is you and Mikasa sleeping.

“Mika? What’s wrong?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you Eren?”

“Mikasa. Okay, I can ex-”

“You can explain? You can explain why you just humiliated Y/N in public? Are you serious?”

“I-I know it’s bad and she hasn’t picked up my calls and-”

“Eren. Is there something wrong with you? Because I don’t even recognize you right now. You would never do something like this, let alone to her of all people.”

“Did you just call me to yell at me Mikasa? You don’t think I feel bad enough about it already? You don’t think I would have stopped it if I had any idea it was going to happen?”

He hears the line get quieter and Mikasa murmuring over the phone, only to be met with Connie talking to him now.

“Hi Eren. It’s Connie.”

Eren sighs, the fact that Mikasa’s so put off she won’t even talk to him sitting wrong with him all together.

“Hi Con.”

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah, is she okay?”

“Mika? You know her, she gets mad so fast and-”

“Not her.” Eren whispers.

“Oh. No, no that’s why we called. She won’t talk to any of us. We called to see if you would know what to do because we’re coming short on ideas.”

The words die on Eren’s tongue. The first line of defense when you get like this is always him, because he can always get you to talk.

Could always get you to talk.

“You tried Levi?”

“Yes.”

“Her brothers. You need to fly Falco and Colt out now. I’ll pay for the tickets. Get the shin ramen from the store, it’s her comfort food - put half of the spice packet in because she can’t eat it too spicy, make sure you boil the egg for six minutes because she likes it when it’s still a little runny, and chop ONLY carrots and green onions for the vegetables. And put on Spy Family, it’s her favorite show. Her favorite episode is nine, I think. It’s called Show Off How In Love You Are. ”

“Okay, that’s all great man. Really. Thanks.”

“Connie?”

“Yeah?”

The thought crosses his mind so fast and suddenly he's asking it.

“Do you hate me?” Eren asks, the whisper in his voice sounding so pitiful that he’s almost embarrassed.

“No, Eren. I could never. Just, I have to be here because she needs us right now. You get that.”

“No, no I do. Take care of her, please. Tell me how it goes.”

“Yeah man. Sure.”

Connie hangs up and the guilt eats at Eren.

Eren hears the resounding pounding of footsteps - only to be met with Myka, Hyla, and two other people he’s literally never seen before - standing in his bedroom.

The first thing he learned quickly about filming with these people? They have no concept of personal space or time.

“What?”

“Ricky and Y/N. They made a music video. Put it on.” Myka states, the group of them crawling onto Eren’s bed as he starts pulling up the video.

The thumbnail already has him sick to his stomach. It’s you kissing Ricky’s cheek. The video starts with you and Ricky’s hands, playing the piano together, and it takes Eren all but three seconds to realize that this is the horrible, gut-wrenching response he was waiting for.

His first cue? Not only are the two of you playing the piano together, but you and Ricky are wearing matching, beaded bracelets with each other’s names on them. Like the ones you and Eren have, the one he keeps on him at all times.

The camera pans up to the two of you and Ricky starts singing, which earns him a nice list of profanities from Lana at his side.

Do I look lonely? I see the shadows on my face People have told me I don't look the same Maybe I lost weight I'm playing hooky with the best of the best Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it, too I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall The lace in your dress tangles my neck, how do I live?

His second cue? The dress you’re wearing in the video, the one with the lace, is one he knows all too well.

“Okay so, Eren. I have to find a dress to wear for the album premiere tomorrow. And it's my first album and it's special and I want it to be perfect. Something kind of soft and casual, since it’s just going to be just fans. Can you help me pick?”

Eren nods as he flops back onto the soft plush of your bed, eyes focused on all the little pictures and knick knacks littered over the walls of your childhood bedroom. Participation awards for sports, signed letters from your teachers, and pictures of you and Colt doing karaoke.

“Ew, Eren. Don’t look at those.”

“What do you mean? You were such a cute baby.”

Eren hopes your kids don’t inherit your messy hair genes as you walk up to his side and look at the picture - of you and Colt with little pink microphones in your hand and the little plastic crown on your head.

“You know, you still do that.”

“Do what?”

“Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture.”

You roll your eyes as you gesture to the dress, asking for his opinion. Eren stands up, grabbing you by the wrist, to spin you around in the air. And he loves the sound of your laugh and how you berate him immediately after.

“Eren. Be serious. What do you think?”

“Perfect. Wear this one.”

“But it’s black - it doesn’t really fit the vibe that I wanted to go with.”

“Good point. No one should see you in this but me. Try another one on.” Eren states, placing a kiss on your neck before walking over to your bookshelf.

"You're no help." you whine.

"I'm biased. You look good in everything, sweetheart."

He’s running his hands against the spines of your books, clearly bent and broken from reading them so much as you try on the next dress.

“Love?”

“Hm?” your voice comes out, all muffled from the sound of the closet door.

“How many times have you read the Goblet of Fire? This spine is demolished.”

He feels your limbs wrap around his neck and a kiss on his cheek as you lazily murmur into his skin.

“Lots. Cedric Diggory was my first love.”

“Oh? Really?”

Eren turns around and makes it a point to pointedly glare at you, which you return with the sweetest, cheesiest of smiles as you tease him on.

“Oh, of course. I’ve always had a thing for Hufflepuffs.”

“Would you look at that? I’m a Hufflepuff too.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a Ravenclaw, Eren.”

“I was expecting you to say Slytherin.”

“No, I feel like that’s a cop-out answer. You’re intelligent, creative, and clever. Ravenclaw.”

Eren smiles as he brings his hands down to your wrists again, spinning you in the air again. He brings his hands up to your hair to tuck your hair behind your ears before responding.

“Nope. Very pretty, but too formal for something small like this.”

“I appreciate the honesty this time, mon chéri. I only have one more, so it better be the one.”

Eren leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“What was that for?”

“I love it when you speak French to me.” he whispers.

Eren watches you roll your eyes as you disappear into your closet again. He settles into the seat at your desk, flipping through the song lyrics in your bound notebook.

And he doesn’t miss the polaroids you have taped into certain pages - the one of the two of you at the vow renewal on your invisible string page and one of him at the piano on the New Year’s Day page.

“Okay, Eren. Good?”

Eren turns around to find you shyly smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back. It’s a soft white dress, with a lace neckline. Eren thinks it makes you look like an angel. He makes it a point to stand up just so he can push you onto the bed behind you and lean right over you.

“Eren.”

He leans forward and starts peppering kisses all over your cheeks and your face, leaving longer lingering ones in your neck that leave you in a fit of nervous giggles and saying his name so softly it only sets him off more.

“It should be illegal-”

Kiss.

“To look like this.”

Kiss.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

Kiss.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to drive me crazy, love.”

“Am not, Eren. It’s just a dress.”

“It’s never just a dress with you. Be serious, Y/N.”

He watches your eyes go wide, a soft pink dusting your cheeks. Your hands are resting on his face and he swears they’re shaking, your arms trembling along with them. Eren brings his hand to your cheek, softly brushing across the skin once.

“Hey. What is it?” he whispers.

“You said my name.”

“I say your name all the time.”

“No, no. You always call me love or sweetheart.”

“Do you like it when I say your name, Y/N?”

He watches the blush spread across your cheeks again as you nod, the sweetest smile on your face.

“I like how you say it. Y/N.”

“I love your name. Though, it’s missing something.”

He watches you frown, the confused look spreading across your face.

“What’s that?”

“My last name at the end.” he responds, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Ew, Eren. That was so corny.”

He brings his hands down to the side of your dress, where the zipper lies and starts pulling down. He watches the shock spread on your face, immediately pulling back.

“Are you crazy? Falco and Colt are still here even if my parents aren’t.”

“Falco is sleeping over across the street. And Colt is definitely at a party and pretending not to be. Who takes limes and salt to a study session? He definitely needs those for the drinks, silly girl.” he responds, sliding the dress off your shoulders and burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving lazy kisses all over your skin.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Chelseaiswatching.” you murmur.

“Huh?”

“Chelsea is watching.” you whisper.

“Who the fuck is Chelsea?” he asks, the panic laced in his voice.

You point over his shoulder and he immediately rolls his eyes when he sees her, bringing his hands up to pinch your cheeks.

“Are you being serious? You can’t kiss me back because your stuffed animal is watching?”

“Eren. It’s weird, I’ve had her since I was a kid. And my dad bought her for me.” you whine.

“And you think she’s going to narc on you?”

“No. It’s the principle, Eren! Don’t do inappropriate things when kids or kid-like things are present.”

Eren stands up, making it a point to pick up your stuffed animal and bury it in the back of your closet before he returns, hands on his hips.

“Okay. Anything else? Do I need to put tape over your posters of Loid Forger doesn’t watch us doing it?”

“Now that you say it, it’s actually-”

“Too bad.”

And well after being tangled in the sheets together, Eren pretends not to be offended when you pull on a hoodie and immediately get out of bed and reach for your notebook and your pen instead of cuddling with him after.

You crawl back in the bed next to him, where he immediately rests his head in your lap and starts groaning. You reach forward to push the messy hair out of his face and make a mental note to cover up the purple skin on his neck later so Colt doesn’t hang you at the cross whenever he comes back.

“Did I get you that inspired that you can’t hold me right now?”

“Basically. You’re my muse, Eren.”

“What’s the song called, Y/N?”

“Dress.”

“Clever. I wonder what it’s about.” he responds, pressing kisses along your thigh, consecutively going higher with each kiss.

“Eren. Are you serious? It’s only been like ten minutes.” you respond, the nervous jittery feeling growing in your stomach.

“It’s like vitamins. Can’t go without it.”

“Do not refer to it as vitamins. And you can technically go without vitamins, if you’re like really healthy.”

“Quit being a know-it-all. You know I meant like medicine.”

“Eren.” you respond, a warning tone in your voice as you keep scribbling your lyrics out.

“You get two minutes to finish what you’re writing and then I’m throwing that book out the window.” he responds, his breath on the inside of your legs tickling you.

Eren knows you’re trying to drive him crazy and not in the way he likes. And it’s working. And Ricky’s all too agitating singing voice doesn’t make it any better.

The death of a bachelor Oh oh Seems so fitting for Happily ever after (woo) How could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter At the expense of the death of a bachelor

Eren watches you and Ricky dancing through the streets, while Ricky sings on and on about happily ever after, and he can’t help but slam the computer shut and all but push the group of them out of his room. And when he closes the door, all he can do is cry and hope they can’t hear him.

You peek out the window and count seven black cars and fourteen different people standing on the block, anxious faces craning up with shining black cameras in their hand. You feel a hand on your shoulder and know the ice cold hands can only be Ricky.

“Hey.”

“How many?”

“Fourteen.” you groan, giving him a frown as you yank your shoulder out from under his hand and walk past him.

You head to the vanity, where you’re going to place your last finishing touches on your outfit. Ricky’s quick to follow and lean into your space, with a smirk pressed on his face.

“Ricky.”

“Yes, babe?”

“Ew. Do you need something? Or are you all up in my space for fun?”

“For fun! You smell really good.”

You make it a point to lightly shove him back, which you both laugh at as you clip on the sparkly necklace, making it a point to not move suddenly at all from this moment forward.

It would be infinitely embarrassing if you ripped the first designer dress you wore. Especially when you have to return it later.

Ricky swings his hand around you from the back and holds a cupcake in front of your face, a glimmering blue candle lit in the middle. You give him a questioning look in the mirror.

“Baby’s first Met Gala!”

You snort as you blow out the candle, taking it from his hands and pulling the wax out.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Ricky says.

“For?”

“The cupcake! And getting you invited to the Met Gala.”

You smack his shoulder, giving him your angriest look, before you both laugh.

“You’re a prick. I got invited all on my own.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” he responds, sarcastically.

“What flavor is the cupcake?”

“Chocolate.”

“Eh. I like vanilla.” you respond, swiping the frosting off the top with your finger. But before you can lick it, Ricky reaches for it first and swipes it right off your finger.

“I mean, I was going to eat that, Ricky.”

“I only like the frosting of the cupcake.”

“Well, I only like the frosting too. Especially when it’s not the flavor of cake I like.”

You hand Ricky the rest of the cupcake and grab your purse as you head out. You press the button on the elevator and both slide in when it opens, the anticipation of the fourteen people waiting outside for you and the hundred more who will be at the event sitting on you. You must be making some weird face because Ricky catches on to it super fast.

“Just relax. It’s just paparazzi, not flying to the moon.”

“I know that. I just feel like I’m not entirely here at the moment. And they’re all going to ask me about Girlfriend and you and Eren and I just-”

You still haven’t encountered the press after the entire thing, despite most of the tabloids writing things in your favor. Because rehashing the worst thing that’s ever happened for you in the two seconds the paparazzi talk to you and have it become a whole convoluted story is not something you’re ready for.

After the entire thing went down, you retreated to your room for one day. One day. With full intentions to mope for the rest of your life, because you would never live this down. And because the entire ordeal was so overstimulating, so stressful that you need to rest.

Until Danny and Sareen dragged you out by the legs and forced you to film a music video with Ricky. Then go to his debut of the song and the music video in Times Square. And then they granted you your beauty rest, but then that stupid voice in your head got the best of you and you couldn’t help but watch what everyone said about the entire thing after the event.

People thought the entire Girlfriend thing was really tasteless. Because it was. Ricky did a bunch of interviews, where he just talked you up and how the entire thing was ridiculous in his opinion. They thought it was sweet of Ricky to come to your defense with Death of a Bachelor and that your official debut as a couple was one for the books.

You’ll take a win where you can get one.

Everyone sided with you, which was nice. Fans wise but also from your real friends. Connie, Marco, Mikasa, and Jean were at your side the entire time, which you appreciated.

Connie was the one that convinced you that “you had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever” and filmed a video of you, Jean, Mikasa, and him dancing to Girlfriend and posted it.

Which was your favorite part of the entire thing, not because of the song, but because they were there for you through the entire thing. That Connie could make something mortifying funny for you. A bad memory a good one. A true testament to his support.

Unlike some people. People’s inquisitive eyes leave no stone untouched and now rumors of a fallout between you and Historia are flying around, when she’s the only one to not publicly come to your defense. And you get it, she doesn’t have to. What you don’t understand is why she won’t return any of your calls.

Ricky reaches down and grabs your hand, locking his fingers in yours as he gives you a smile, bringing you back down from the thoughts.

“I won’t leave you, okay? Danny and Sareen said I should handle all those questions anyways.”

“And if Lana comes up to me?”

“Spit in her face. She’s really annoying.”

“And if Eren comes up to me?”

“I’ll give you a big kiss.”

“Ew. Don’t do that.”

“I love it when you act disgusted by me.”

You snicker as the elevator rings and the door swings open. You’re immediately flooded with a mound of flashing lights as Ricky grabs your hand and drags you through the crowd into the fresh air. And it only gets worse outside because not only are the cameras outside bigger, but the reporters are louder.

Are you and Ricky official?

Eren and Hyla are rumored to be dating. Do you have any comments on that, Y/N?

Can you tell us anything about your upcoming record, Ribbons?

Ricky ducks your head into the car first before sliding in himself, tapping on the seat ahead of him as the car speeds off. You let go of Ricky’s hand, wiping the sweat against your dress, immediately freezing when you remember you’re supposed to return it at the end of the night.

“Now was that so bad?” Ricky asks, giving you a winning smile.

“Literally, yes! I wasn’t expecting them to be in the lobby.”

“Cmon, you nailed it. I was there, wasn’t I?”

“Quit trying to flirt, Ricky. You suck at it.” you grumble, which he laughs at.

The car comes to a screeching halt and you give Ricky a weary smile as he walks out first, making it a point to open the door for you on the other side. You wrap your arm around his as you both walk the carpet, giving glimmering smiles every time you walk a few paces.

You make mental notes of those standing on the steps behind you and you catch sight of them. Eren and Hyla, in the center of the carpet. Eren’s lifting his hand to twirl her in the middle, with consecutive clicks from the cameras. And you can see Sukuna right behind them, pretending to gag with Maki and probably ruining all the picutres.

You smile, making it a point to sit with Sukuna later because he’s so wildly unserious that it’s probably the only thing you could tolerate on a day like this. And it would really piss off Eren.

Mikasa and Jean are smiling at you from behind the ropes, Mikasa giving you a sweet smile and mouthing that you look great. She points at a spot towards the left and you nod, signaling that you’ll meet her there after.

Out of the periphery of your eye, you catch sight of it. The giant cat in the middle of the runway. You tap Ricky on the shoulder, pointing it out to him.

“Oh god.”

“At the Met Gala? That’s so unserious.” you respond.

“Ten bucks it’s Gojo.”

“That’s such a lame bet. I know for a fact that’s Gojo. He’s the only type of dumbass to show up to the Met Gala dressed up as a big white cat with blue eyes.”

You both lean closer together, making a point to make sure the paparazzi are taking pictures of you two all close to each other. The head of the cat pops off and surely enough, a very excited Satoru Gojo is now running in circles around in the middle of the carpet. And blocking every girl standing on the side.

You don’t miss Geto standing ten paces behind with Shoko, the two of them very loudly declaring that they, in fact, do not know or associate with that man.

“You owe me ten bucks.”

“I never agreed to that, Ricky.”

Ricky leans forward and plants a warm kiss on your cheek, earning a nice symphony of cooing from the photographers on the other side.

“Oh?”

“We both got it right. So we both get a reward.” he responds, tapping his left cheek.

You roll your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek and consequently wipe your glittery lip gloss off his face after. You give the cameras a smile and wrap your arm around his again as you walk farther down the carpet towards the interviewers.

“Y/N. You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you! So do you.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about your third upcoming album, Ribbons? What’s your favorite track on the album?”

“Thank you for asking! I think Ribbons is a mix of a lot of feelings I’ve had lately - specifically good, warm, and positive feelings. I-I think that being negative is something that’s really easy to do, especially when you’re in my position, but I try to keep my music feeling like sunshine on a nice day, because who likes to focus on the bad when you can just be the good. My favorite track on the album is seven, a song that I’ll be performing inside later today with one of my best, best friends who I wrote it with.”

“That’s sweet. Are any of these positive feelings a consequence of your new beau, Ricky James?”

And right on cue, Ricky’s on your side, tilted eyes glimmering in the camera.

“I know for a fact they are. She loves to write songs about me.”

“That’s a bold statement coming from you, Ricky.” you respond.

“I’m a bold guy.” Ricky responds, giving you a wink.

“Speaking of writing songs, Y/N. How do you feel about songs being written about you? Songs like Girlfriend?”

The reporter looks way too excited at this part now. You look at Ricky before answering, who gives you a subtle nod. The answer you practiced with Sareen and Danny.

“I think it’s flattering.”

“Really?”

Ricky slides his hand around your waist and smiles, finishing off the rest of the answer for you.

“Oh, it’s totally flattering. I mean, I’d be really intimidated if I was comparing myself to someone like Y/N here too. She’s quite literally at the top of her game, in every sense, and it’s easy to feel less than when you’re comparing yourself to a future triple threat. So we get the thought process behind it.”

“Ricky.”

“It’s true, Y/N. Personally, I think they should pick London Boy from her discography as the song selection. But that’s just me.”

You smile at each other as you give the interviewer a polite nod, giving each other a thumbs up as you walk around the floor. You finally get to stop near Jean and Mikasa, who are very obviously already wine drunk, from the way their cheeks are tinted pink.

“Wow, Jean. It hasn’t even been two hours yet.” you respond, placing your hand flat against his cheek to see how much his skin is burning.

“I hate this type of shit.” Jean responds, grumbling.

“Jean. How drunk are you? Don’t tell me you’re imagining cats walking around are you?” you ask, feigning concern.

“Huh? That cat isn’t real?”

“You’re actually seeing cats?!” Mikasa asks, catching on.

“THERE’S A REAL CAT HERE, MIKA. LOOK.” Jean says, pointing at Satoru who is now lying face down on the red carpet.

"Jean."

"Y/N. MIKASA. I'M SO SERIOUS I SWEAR THERE'S A REAL CAT. IT TALKED TO ME EARLIER. IT TOLD ME I SHOULD HAVE DRESSED UP AS A HORSE WITH IT."

“Oh, sweetheart. We should go inside, you’ve had too much. You always do this, Jean.” Mikasa says, shaking her head as she leads him in. Mikasa turns her head over her shoulder and gives you a wink, before she walks straight into the venue.

Geto and Shoko come up to your side after they catch you staring at Gojo - who's now doing the worm in his cat suit on the floor - as they both give you polite hugs. The three of you stand against the wall to watch him take the spotlight away from anyone who was hoping to have it.

“Can you believe you’re married to that guy?” you ask Geto.

“Please don’t remind me. It pains me everyday.”

“He wore the cathead to my house the first day he got it. I was hosting a vigil for one of my neighbors.” Shoko states, placing a cigarette between her teeth.

You snort at the thought of Gojo, in his fully exuberant energy, trotting into a room of people mourning with the cat head on.

Megumi and Yuuta join the group of you as you now watch Yuuji - whose actually dressed in a nicely styled suit - have a dance off with Cat Gojo on the red carpet.

You nudge Megumi in the side.

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?”

“We’re breaking up.” Megumi responds, earning a laugh from the group.

“I can’t tell what’s worse. The fact that they’re dance battling at the Met Gala or that Yuuji is horrendously losing to Gojo wearing a twelve pound cat-suit.”

“Yuuji losing.” you all respond in unison.

“I think Cat Gojo is going to haunt me in my dreams.” you respond.

“Get this, Y/N. It’s not Cat Gojo. It’s Catoru.” Yuuta responds.

“Don’t tell me he trademarked it already.”

“He did.” they all respond in unison.

"Geto. Shoko. When you burn that thing in the flames of hell, I want a video." you state.

"That's a promise, kid." Geto responds, with Shoko giving an affirmative nod.

You turn to your left to find Ricky standing at your side, with his arm wrapped around John. Historia’s ex-boyfriend. You give the group of them a polite nod as you walk away and join Ricky at your side.

“Y/N. This is my friend, John. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Hi. Y/N.” you respond, making every effort to emphasize the flatness in your voice.

“John. Nice to meet you.” he responds, holding his hand out which you refuse to touch.

“Play any chess games lately?” you ask, making a pointed reference to Historia’s song.

He glares and you watch the smile on Ricky’s face drop. You give your best, sickly sweet smile as you wait for a response.

“That’s right. You acted in Attack on Titan so you must be friends with Historia.”

“Very good friends.” you respond.

“Okay John, we’re going to go in. I’ll see you in a sec, yeah?” Ricky responds, hands increasingly hard on your biceps as he drags you a few paces away.

“Ouch, Ricky. Get off.”

He’s leaning close to you, whispering in your ear earlier like you two were when Satoru came in, except this is nowhere near as fun as last time.

“What’s your problem?”

“What’s yours? He’s not a good guy, Ricky.”

“I’ve made every effort to be friends with your friends. You could and should be doing the same for me, Y/N.”

“And I will. For your friends who aren’t groomers, Ricky.”

Ricky glares at you before giving you a smile and pressing a kiss to your forehead with the paparazzi so close, before dragging you into the venue with him. You settle into your seat next to Ricky, craning your neck to see where the rest of your friends are sitting, all the way on the other side of the room.

You turn to the girl sitting next to you and whisper in her ear.

“Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“I-I know who you are. I’m a big fan.”

“I’m really sorry to ask you this then. But you see that guy right there, pink hair, those two little scars near his eyes. Could you go and switch seats with him? He’s sitting in between Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuta Okkotsu, so I can at least promise it’s a better seat than this one.”

She looks over and gives you an affirmative nod. You squeeze her shoulder as you watch her stomp over, Sukuna turn back to give you a questioning look, before letting the girl take his seat and striding over to sit next to you with two cups in his hands.

He sits on the chair to your left, making it a point to spread his legs as far as he can on his chair, and glare at Ricky as he sits down.

“What do you want, doll?”

“Nothing. I got bored.”

He shrugs as he places the second cup in front of you, which you pick up. And then immediately spit back up, because it’s just straight vodka.

“Shit. My bad, doll. That’s mine.”

“You’re drinking straight vodka? No chaser?” you ask.

“Imagine doing this shit sober. I’d drive myself half insane.” he murmurs.

You switch the cups and drink yours again, pleasantly surprised by a warm, sweet latte.

“Sukuna. How’d you know?” you ask.

“Eren told me.”

You look over at him, giving him your best glare.

“As if you’d talk to Eren.” you snort, craning your neck to find him on his phone, next to Hyla’s who is fixing her hair.

“We talk. It’s just not pleasant.”

“Yeah. My preferred coffee order is just so horrible to talk about.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. Poor guy mopes about you so much it even makes me depressed.”

Ricky taps aggressively on your shoulder, leaning over into your space.

“I’m going to go sit with John.” Ricky states, angrily.

“Okay?” you respond.

“Okay? That’s it, Y/N?”

“Do you need a formal, written invitation? Or does she need to hold your hand and walk you there so you don’t get lost?” Sukuna responds, glaring at him.

Ricky gets irritated at Sukuna’s response and storms off, which just has Sukuna moving his chair so that you can both prop your legs up on it. You’re both switching off on sharing your drinks - mixing Sukuna’s alcohol with your latte and watching all the performances.

“Are you performing?” Sukuna asks.

“Yeah. With Marco, right before Eren.”

“Real cute. Is it that same fluff shit you always write?”

You smack him hard on the shoulder.

“Asshole. That fluff shit is Multi-Platinum, dumbass.”

“I get that. But I’m saying, you should write something more serious than that. Instead of penting up all that rage in your forehead, you should write it in a song. Quit letting real stupid girls call you stupid in songs.”

“I can’t. My record doesn’t really like the idea of that.” you respond.

“So? You’re the artist and it’s your music. Write whatever you want. Don’t be a chickenshit.”

“It’s not that simple, Sukuna.”

“No. It literally is. You’re just chicken.”

“It’s not about chicken, Sukuna. My record was the one who took a chance on me and to some extent, I have to follow that. And they’ve made me Multi-Platinum so far so who am I to not listen to them?”

“God. You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re an asshole, Sukuna.”

“Do you want to kiss now?”

You reach forward to smack his face, which elicits a laugh from him.

“You never change, do you Sukuna?”

“Best thing about me, doll. You should learn to piss people off like I do. It’ll actually relieve some of that tension. And flirting is good for your health.”

“We can’t all afford to be feather rustlers like you.”

“You could. I’m sure people would eat it up - the whole sweet girl saying her mind type thing. I’ll give you lessons on how to talk your shit sometime instead of letting idiots like that do it for you.”

He points over at Ricky, whose glaring bullets at the two of you. You give him a gesture, which he completely ignores as he turns over to whisper in John’s ear.

“Out of all guys, you had to pick that one? When you tweeted that you were charged with murder, I thought you were being serious and got really excited for a second.”

“Danny and Sareen picked him. That’s not my fault.”

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see the usher, signaling that it’s time for you to perform. You nod and turn to Sukuna, who's already getting up from the chair. He presses a kiss to your cheek before you walk off to the other side where Marco’s waiting.

Eren’s sitting towards the end of the bench, hands pressed under his legs, when he watches you take the stage with Marco, a glittering smile on your face.

And in your billowing, white dress, there’s only one thing Eren can focus on. The fish tattoo, right on display. He instinctively reaches for his own, hidden under the fabric of his clothes, and thinks about how your sweet, flowery smell was always overwhelming, even in a disgusting tattoo parlor.

And when Eren catches sight of Marco at the piano, Eren knows you’re a temptress to everyone and not just him. Exhibit A? You convinced Marco to sing in public with you.

“Hi everyone. My name is Y/N.”

Everyone breaks into a loud applause and Eren thinks that the wolf-whistling in the corner is Mikasa, who he’s convinced is shit-faced by the way her cheeks are glowing pink.

“Thank you. Um, can we just take a minute to give a second round of applause to my sunshine boy, Marco, here? He’s not a big singer and I’ve all but forced him to do this with me, so let’s all give him some love.”

The crowd claps again and Eren knows for a fact that the wolf-whistling this time is Jean, who is actually plastered.

“This song is off my new album, called Ribbons, and it’s called seven. The idea of this song kind of came up randomly. I told Marco that it was kind of sad that I don’t have any of the childhood friends I did when I was a kid anymore. And Marco just responded by saying, ‘what do you mean, we’ve been friends since we were seven?’ And long story short, I jumbled out a nice mess of lyrics with Marco and Armin produced it after that and the song was finished. We hope you like it!”

Marco starts playing a soft piano tune, accompanied by your light strumming on the guitar, and some part of it is so familiar, so you that it makes Eren’s heart ache. Not that Eren’s a big hater of your new, more pop songs like London Boy, but Eren’s always enjoyed your soulful, soft songs like this more.

They remind him of the soft parts of him that you only shared with him, when you used to be next him when he slept at night.

Y/N: Please picture me In the trees I hit my peak at seven feet In the swing Over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things?

Eren fights the urge to snort. Of course, there’s still beautiful things. You’re standing right there.

And Eren knows he’s way too sensitive for this because hearing your soft, echoing voice when he’s about to sing a song about the last time he kissed you has him pushing his face into the table. Because there are tears in his eyes.

Y/N: Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you

Marco: Your braids like a pattern Love you to the moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

When you both finish, Eren watches you give Marco a big hug and a kiss on the cheek as you both walk off together. And then Eren’s trailing up to the stage where Historia’s waiting, the orchestral suite setting up their instruments and he feels his hands shaking at his sides. Historia gives him a smile, which he appreciates as he takes the front stand.

He hates it up here. He knows that flowery scent in the air is you. He manifested it by thinking about it and now it's suffocating him.

You lean against the wall with Marco, hands linked together, as you watch Eren readjust the microphone to his height and Historia sit at the piano. You make a fleeting second of eye contact with her and give her a smile, which she halfheartedly returns.

Eren’s hair is shorter, he’s cut it from the last time you’ve seen him. And he looks kind of tired, though you’re sure you look no better.

“My name is Eren Jaeger. This is my new song, Promise, that I co-composed and wrote with my friend, Historia.”

You lean your head against Marco’s shoulder, who is giving you a warm squeeze on the shoulder, as you listen.

I made a promise To distance myself Took a flight, through aurora skies Honestly, I didn't think about How we didn't say goodbye Just see you very soon

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the breath constrict in your throat and tears warm in your eyes.

“You okay?”

“It’s Eren. Of course, I’m not okay.” you whisper.

No matter how long I resist temptation I always lose It hurts to be something It’s worse to be nothing with you I’ve done the math There’s no solution We’ll never last Why can’t I let go of this?

As Eren goes on and on, that soft voice that’s lulled you to sleep hundreds of time is haunting you. And Marco’s reflexes to wipe your tears away fast are the only reason that people don’t catch on.

When Eren finishes, his green eyes meet yours and he gives you a painstakingly long look, before walking away.

You don’t see him again that night. Or for a while. You figure it's better that way. Being in the same room but not talking is like nails on a chalkboard.

You lean over the counter, scrolling through the set of pictures Ricky just took, as you wait for the timer on your computer to count down.

Ricky circles his arm around your shoulder, as you both watch the seconds on the timer run out and the little display of confetti go around the screen.

You refresh the tab on your Apple Music and you see it - your name and album cover displayed in bright colors right at the top banner.

“How does it feel?” Ricky asks, watching you refresh your Spotify on your phone and watch the songs turn from grey to white, meaning they're now able to be played.

“Good. I hope Historia calls me after she realizes that dorothea is about her.” you murmur, the notifications on your phone buzzing from Reiner, Levi, and Mikasa. You open Levi's first.

levi: We love the record, kid.

you: it's been out for five seconds.

levi: Just shut up and take the compliment, sometimes.

you: I love you, levi. give kisses to hange. i'll call you guys tomorrow.

“She will. Just relax.” Ricky states, as he watches you push up on the counter, legs dangling in the air after putting your phone down.

He reaches for the lowest drawer, pulling out a dark black box and placing it flat in the palm of your hand.

“What’s this?”

“A gift, before you go on tour. And I wanted to ask you something.”

You nod, encouraging him to go on, as you look at the bracelet - a chain-linked, chunky silver bracelet with a heart charm right in the middle.

“That’s custom made. From Tiffany, because it’s your favorite right?”

“Yeah. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Well, I’m really proud of you. Ribbons is a great record and I’m sure you and I will be competing for Record of the Year in a few months.”

You smile as Ricky leans closer, hands on both of your sides of the counter.

“I think you’re really great. And-and I know we’ve been pretending but some part of this became really real for me and I think it did for you too. So I think we should quit playing around and do this for real.”

You feel your throat dry as Ricky smiles at you, so excited and earnest, that you almost feel bad. For how you’re going to shoot him down.

“Ricky. Oh. Um. Listen. You’re really great. I-I really like you. But I-I don’t know if I can do that right now.” you respond.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you and I’m willing to be patient and all that. We’ll figure it out.” he responds, yanking the chain out of the box and reaching forward to secure it around your hand.

“Listen. I-I don’t know if it’s all that. It’s just, I don’t. I like you Ricky but not like that. I just can’t do that right now.”

Ricky leans back in confusion, dragging the necklace off your hand as you give him your most sincere smile. And you can’t help but feel bad for not liking him back. When he’s helped you out more times than you can count, with red carpets and defending you when he didn’t have to.

But you can't help these sort of things.

“Listen. I-I can go home. I’ll take the trash and then leave so you can be alone, yeah?”

“Okay. I appreciate that. Thank you for being honest.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Of course. And thank you for taking it well, I still appreciate what you’ve done and have a lot of love for you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder as you walk past.

You take the half filled bag of trash and walk out to the garage to swing the door open. There’s a decent amount of rain pouring down and you quickly scamper out admist it. You throw the bag over your shoulder and quickly run over to the chute to throw it down before running down to the door.

Except when you reach for the handle, it doesn’t pull down. You jam it down, more aggressively this time as the heavy drops start matting your hair to your forehead. Giving up on the door, you run to the other side and rap your knuckles against the window, where Ricky’s back is still turned.

He turns around and gives you a look, half opening the window.

“Hey. Sorry, I accidentally locked the door on the way out.”

“That wasn’t an accident. That was me.” Ricky responds, glaring at you.

“Huh?”

“That was me.” he responds, again.

“Listen, I can’t really hear you and it’s really cold outside. Can you just let me in?” you ask.

“Sorry, Y/N. I really like you but I just don’t know if I can do that right now.”

"Ricky."

He closes off the window and walks away all together.

You can feel the panic setting in your chest - at the fact that you’re standing in the pouring rain in Seattle and you don’t know where to go. And that Ricky, nice and sweet Ricky, just locked you out.

You hunch over on your knees, yanking your phone out of your pocket to call Mikasa. She picks up on the first call and you can hear her and Jean screaming through the speaker.

“TOP TEN ON THE CHARTS I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT.” they both scream, the sentence going over you’re head.

“Mika. Mika, wait.” you whisper, the tears starting to fill your eyes.

You’re thrown off by the screeching of tires and doors closing and you march over to Ricky’s side door. You lightly crack it open and spot seven paparazzi cars, parked straight on Ricky’s porch.

Meaning. Not only did Ricky lock you out of his house in the pouring rain but he made sure to call the paparazzi so they can catch you the first chance he got. You quickly shut the door and run to the backside of the house, into the back streets by Ricky’s neighborhood. And the panic's starting to make your legs shake.

“Mika. You’re not still in Seattle, are you?” you ask, the panic laced in your voice.

“No, babe. We’re in Tampa right now for Armin and Annie’s thing. We left a few days ago.”

“Do you know anyone who is? This is urgent, Mika.”

You hear Mikasa murmuring over the phone and suddenly Jean’s on the line, his voice more firm and collected than Mikasa’s. You can suddenly hear her panicking in the background, talking to a third voice you can’t identify.

“Marco says your options are Eren or Historia. They’re both still in Seattle, though I think Eren’s closer to where you are. Call us when you’re safe. Immediately, Y/N.” Jean says.

“Okay.”

You can hear the sound of raised voices from the direction you came and you quickly hunch to the side. You try your best to wipe the wetness of your phone as you scroll for Eren’s contact and dial.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Y/N?” he asks, voice raspy like he was sleeping.

And at the sound of his voice, months after the fact, when you’re soaked to the bone in the rain, you can’t help but cry.

“Eren?” you ask, voice breaking.

“Y/N. What is it?” he asks, voice suddenly louder.

“I need your help.”

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm not hurt, but I could be? I don't know, Eren I-"

“Say the word. What-what is it? I-I’m there. Just tell me what you need me to do, love."

“I need you to come get me, Eren.”

“I’m coming. Stay exactly where you are and on the line with me.”

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 @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist by either commenting on this or the masterlist <3

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