#I barely know Canadian

[vancityreynolds]

TIL the reason we say "buckaroo" is it's a phonetic English way of saying cowboy in Spanish, "vaquero."

[soldier-poet-king]

Smthn smthn butchered tongue making me bawl my eyes out even tho my ancestral languages weren't taken from me by force. Like. It is explicitly a song about the cultural violence of colonialism.

My experiences do not compare to that! And I still grieve! I still grieve the cultural connections and comforting tongue I lost! I grieve that in trying to better their situation amongst desperate post war poverty my grandparents and great grandparents immigrated, and the predominance of English, the necessity of it, the issues of my mother going to school not speaking any English, meant that by the time I came around the comforting dialects are only spoken between the older generations, save for a few slang words and highly specific food terms. I grieve that I can't roll my rs properly, and the Italian double consonants still trip up my tongue. I grieve that vague hazy childhood memories of my Nonna's house mean that the most comforting of accents, the most comforting tongue, is one I do not know, and can never master organically. I can study all I want but it'll never be natural. I can muddle my way through the basics, my Canadian accent grating the edges of the language, but it's not the same! It'll never be the comforting lilt of being a young child and having all the extended elderly family laughing and arguing around the table.

Obvs I am not the only generational-diaspora-immigrant kid to feel this way. I'm at the odd spot of not having been the immigrant myself, but having the people who raised me not be assimilated enough for me to really feel at home in the new culture either. I'm not far enough away, generationally, to not feel the separation. There is a persistent sense of loss for something I can only grasp the vaguely edges of.

And obvs this isn't the same as forced diasporas, of refugees, of colonial supression of native tongues. But there's still a grief there, even as I feel guilty for grieving it - I benefitted greatly, materially, from this linguistic loss. And yet! And yet!

[allbeendonebefore]

i’ll be laughing along to fun facts and then i will fly into a rage because author will suddenly say stuff like “The i****n name for him was” LIKE IT MUST BE A SPECIFIC LANGUAGE AND YOU CAN’T BE BOTHERED TO FIGURE OUT WHICH ONE? like even if Thompson himself used That Word i do Not care you are Writing in the 21st century can you Don’t

[sapphic-storm69]

I’m in the middle of hermitcraft s7 rn and I watched that episode where grian did hermitcribs (?ir something like that I don’t remember) on ethos base and I was so insanely confused by this man’s style of living that I’ve decided that I want to learn as much about him as possible

[kalloway]

The goofiest movie in the Resident Evil series by a landslide is Resident Evil: Apocalypse

in this essay I will-

[jaegerbroshoe]

The amount of absolute unapologetic ignorance and racism Canadians have against indigenous people and issues is disgusting.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Why are the Romance languages so much more fun to yell at people with? By comparison Norwegian and English are so clunky Spanish just flows. Maybe I’ll change my mind when I get better at the other two (I phrased this awkwardly. I meant Spanish and Norwegian when I said “other two” because Spanish is my, admittedly not fluent anymore, Second language and Norwegian is my, also not fluent yet but I have more of an excuse with that one, language) but in my experience so far one definitely feels more bulky, if that makes any sense?

[menderash]

did you guys know that the mother fucking UN's humanitarian and legal experts have been saying israel's occupation of palestine territories is and has always been illegal, as it violates the FUCKING GENEVA CONVENTION? did you know it was britain that 'gave' the land that wasn't theirs to give to found the state of israel as a tactic to get more jews to join the british army in their already-active war against the ottoman empire? did you know that just between 2008 and 2022 the idf killed almost SEVEN THOUSAND palestinians, as opposed to the 308 israelis by palestinians in the same time period? did you know that israel itself admits to 'forcefully evacuating' palestinians from their homes over the course of their annexation of the country? did you know the british army helped them? did you know that any palestinian who didn't want to have their house taken from them and given to american immigrants being shipped in to populate britain's pet project was killed on their spot? did you know that back in 2018 palestinians did nothing but MARCH in protest of their occupation and in response, the idf is CONFIRMED to have killed almost 400 of them, including FIFTY FIVE CHILDREN? did you know palestinians are not allowed to build anything on the land they have left? did you know they aren't ALLOWED TO LEAVE?? did you know over HALF of christian evangelicals support israel solely because the bible says israel has to exist in order to bring about the second coming? did you know that in 2021, over 88% of us congress were evangelical christians? did you know israel is confirmed to have knowingly bombed palestinian hospitals and the idf had been caught targeting journalists? did you know israel is committing another war crime at this very moment by dropping white phosphorus on gaza civilians? did you know the israeli press was just confirmed to have completely fabricated an account of palestinian war crime right after their own got caught on film? did you know the defense minister of israel openly called all palestinians 'animals' to justify the deaths of their civilians? did you know holocaust survivors are presently speaking out against the israeli state's ethnic cleansing of arabs?

why, in the united states, is criticizing a settler colony's active attempts at extermination labeled antisemitic because of the religion the settlers happen to practice, but rooting for the complete eradication of a muslim country that was already there and is barely still there not islamophobia?? why is religion being used as a shield to justify genocide?

when a sudden act of politically charged violence occurs, like the hamas attack a few days ago, i ask WHY? i ask WHY until i get as far back as i can. i read accounts written by all sides. i try to find out why this is happening in the first place. half of these facts have come from the israeli government itself. all of them are easily found and easily confirmed by reputable sources. a lot of them are caught on film. all of these facts lead me to know that the state of israel was created by britain in order to gain an advantage in an unrelated war. i know the state of israel has caused unimaginable harm to the country it's slowly eating, and has suffered just a fraction in return. i know religion justifies none of it.

palestinians deserve to live in their own country. palestinians deserve to not be forced to give their homes to americans. palestinians deserve to live, to leave, to stay, to wave their own fucking flag. they do not deserve to have another country plopped on top of them and then have their settlers ask 'don't WE have a right to exist?' as their own right to exist is being extinguished.

fuck the idf, fuck israel, fuck manifest destiny, fuck all settlers who think they deserve someone else's home enough to kick them out of it. literally, in israel's case. indigenous americans, indigenous canadians, chicanos, pacific islanders, filipinos, mestizos, we should all be standing with palestine, because we KNOW how colonial violence goes and what it looks like. solidarity between all colonised peoples. free palestine.

[beatriceportinari]

Going around pronouncing cougar with all my mutual's different accents

[kestisvrse]

good luck charm

part i, part ii

pairing ⋆ hockey player!luke castellan x fem!reader au. fluff.

synopsis ⋆ the rivalry between you and luke had ended, revealing feelings that were buried and how badly he wanted to call you his.

warnings ⋆ i know nothing abt hockey i’m just canadian let me live, swearing, fast paced sorry😭 | wc: 1.3k

♫ - nervous by the neighbourhood

life recently felt like a parallel universe, it felt almost wrong to wake up every morning with a good morning text from luke castellan.

you weren’t exactly close, but you had gotten to the point where you could talk and you didn’t insult him the entire time, and even found yourself cheering for him at his games.

your brother nagged at you for details about what happened that day, as you responded with nothing other than you apologized for being rude to him. he wasn’t buying it all, he had yet to see the fact that you texted luke daily, he only noticed the lack of comments you would make towards him and the fact that you would smile towards luke, something he thought was physically impossible.

you had realized pretty quickly after that day that despite ‘hating’ luke, it was to get rid of the butterflies you felt everytime you saw his curly black hair in a room, or heard his raspy voice with the smirk he always wore. it embarrassed you to think about, to think like this over a boy, but you couldn’t help it.

luckily, it was obvious he likes you, it was obvious from the first day you met him and how often he would be distracted from his tasks by you, but now that you were friends? some people could consider it insufferable how he would act with you, one of your friends called him ‘lovesick’.

which he was, it was such an odd realization, going from hating the boy to secretly liking him while he acted like your boyfriend, constantly texting you, sending you videos of how it reminded him of you or that you two should do a tik tok trend that was obviously made for couples.

he wasn’t embarrassed, he wanted you to know from the start how he felt, but the walls you built hid you from the truth until he broke them down.

despite how it all felt to you, rushed and weird, you found yourself sitting in his car, looking over the ocean as the sun set.

you couldn’t help but overthink everything, after all you said to him, here he sat, admiring your face unable to tear away, like you were a mirage he didn’t want to fade away.

“you’re staring, castellan.” you broke the silence between you two.

“thank you so much, captain obvious.” you could hear the smirk that formed as he said his clever response, earning an eye roll from you, but your own smile creeping up, “you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“yeah, why?” you ask

“great, i want you to wear this.” he reaches into his backseat before returning with his jersey, his eyes full of joy as he offers it to you.

“luke..” you stared at the jersey in your hands, “are you sure? i mean people will probably think i’m your girlfriend.”

“that was the plan, yes.” he says, “just, try it on.” he motions to you, you shrug it over your hoodie looking for his reaction.

to say he was in awe was an understatement, he was stuck in a trance at the sight of you wearing his number, like a deer in headlights he stared at you.

“luke…?” you spoke up, he snapped his head up to make eye contact with you.

“please wear it to the game.” he stuttered, his cheeks flushed red and suddenly his car felt very hot.

“okay, i will.” you whisper.

↦

the freezing air against your face from the rink was so familiar it barely bothered you anymore, you had yet to see your brother and you wondered just what would go through his head at the sight of you, a hoodie on with an extra layer of the team’s colours, sporting luke castellan's number.

you didn’t even think of luke’s reaction, something about really seeing you with it on at the rink, he knew he was done for. when he exited the dressing room he immediately froze at the sight of you, and your smile that you reserved just for him, he was bright red at this point.

“luke!” you blurted, running up to him.

“hey.” he breathed out, unable to take his eyes off you.

“goodluck, you’ll do great.” you praised him, biting back a smile as you stared up at him.

“i have a good luck charm today, i think we can win.” he told you, a cheeky grin appearing, you tilt your head asking what it was, “you.”

before you could answer he was dragged off to the ice, you could feel your own blush rise up at his words. quickly rushing to your seat, your brother spots you and mid smile his jaw drops.

you sent him a sheepish wave, as luke grinned at the sight of him.

and then the game started.

as per usual, luke whipped around the ice. easily dodging and weaving his opponents as if they were made of air. it was mesmerizing to watch the way he moved, he seemed so focused on the task at hand, and yet even while he skated down the rink with the puck at the end of his stick, he still found the opportunity to look at you.

he was bound to get player of the game you thought to yourself, the way he boosted his teammates up, making sure everyone got the chance to make an impressive move even if that was the complete opposite point of the sport.

as the final buzzer rang, you jumped from your seat, the crowd watching erupted into cheers at the teams win as they watched the boys tackle each other into hugs.

you quickly dodged and ran through the stands to get to the entrance to the rink, to congratulate the team, as luke watched you make your way to him, he threw his helmet to the side to grab you and bring you into his arms.

“you won! you fucking won the tournament castellan!” you squealed into his neck.

he stopped spinning you and placed you onto the ground, and the way he looked into your eyes made everyone in the rink disappear. the cold air that previously nipped at you was replaced with a warm cozy feeling as you stared into his eyes.

he went to ask you the question, but his words wouldn’t come out, he felt his team stop and stare at the two of you, as you nodded towards him just from the expression in his eyes.

the expression was him asking if he could kiss you.

you swore you heard fireworks when he lent down to meet your lips, his gloves discarded so he could put his sweaty hands on your face, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours was enough to make you completely ignore how sweaty he was from the game.

he pulled away from your lips, as badly as he wanted to stay there forever.

“been wanting to do that for awhile.” he breathes, awestruck as he stares at you, as if you were the most extraordinary thing in the world.

“i knew it!” your brother's voice called out, distracting you from answering, “i knew you were sneaking out to see him!” your brother's jaw was on the ground.

“uh… sorry?” you muttered

your brother gave luke the iconic ‘you hurt her, i kill you.’ look before wandering into the dressing room.

luke just turns to you, “can i take you on a proper date tonight, good luck charm?” he asks

you snort, but begin to grin, “once you wash all this sweat off, i would love to go on a date with you.” he smirks and goes to kiss you, but you place your palm on his chest to push him back, “shower, castellan.”

despite how fast he flew down the rink, he definitely ran faster to the shower, in desperate need for another kiss from you.

[soldier-poet-king]

Today's work adventures: a self taught crash course in Haitian Creole*

*based entirely on my 8yr old rusty ass knowledge of European French grammar and Acadian French-Chiac pronunciations

[periprose]

Logan’s reaction when you wear one of his shirts!

ahhhh anon the imagery that popped into my head with this one... thank you for requesting it <3 maybe a slight warning but Logan calls reader kid, (she's an adult) because he's obviously older than everyone. also smutty implications lol

/

"Kid. Is that my shirt?" Logan is not sure if he's just half-drunk already (it's nearly impossible for him to get drunk as it is on just a few beers) and you're wearing a big, oversized, Calgary Flames jersey.

He's fairly sure that's not yours- he doesn't think you know any Canadian hockey teams, not like that, and the jersey is definitely dated. Logan thinks he got that when the team was early in it's existence.

"Uhhh..." You turn from your spot in front of the kitchen fridge. The X-Mansion is out of milk and creamer, unfortunately. "Maybe? Sorry."

It's not your shirt that bothers Logan, not exactly. From this spot at the kitchen counter- he's leaning over, but he almost has the full view of your legs, because the shirt only meets the beginning parts of your thighs, and he wonders why on earth you have to be so annoyingly delectable. When Logan is trying his best to be professional, a proper X-Men member, you have to go and be half-naked, no pants, just luscious, sweet legs all taut and smooth as you reach upwards to scan through the upper shelf of the fridge.

You're too much for him, he thinks. If Logan was a slightly better person, he might not be having these thoughts at all, let alone considering acting on them- but he thinks about sneaking up behind you and grabbing, squeezing your ass, the back of your thighs.

"I think our laundry got mixed up like a week ago." You try your best to excuse it. Honestly, though? You were happy to steal Logan's jersey.

It's nice and comfy, and the material has worn away into a soft, loose shirt. Best of all, it smells just like him, after years of wearing it- a slight laundry detergent smell is there, but you mostly catch the smell of pine wood, mixed with cigar smoke and maybe something musky.

You didn't expect him to be down here- you didn't want Logan to know your terrible secret.

"And? You just decided you'd keep it, huh?" Logan grumbles, but he's mostly joking. His eyes are soft.

"I didn't-" You turn to him again, and you cross your arms, and it's with a little start that Logan realizes you're not wearing a bra. You're completely naked under there, other than your panties, and he gets a rush of exhilaration thinking about taking them off slowly, with his rough, callused fingers juxtaposed against your supple, soft hips. Gently squeezing your breasts as if he owns them.

There's something hot about it, Logan thinks. You wearing his shirt. As if he loaned it to you. As if he kind of owns you, as if he's your boyfriend. He can't help but feel a deep sense of pleasure. It's not as if all his hook ups and one night stands were clamoring to be his, and it's with fondness that he looks at you again.

"I thought I could give it back to you. After I wore it for a bit." You admit, and Logan has a slight smile.

"Keep it." Logan has a twinkle in his eye, his eyes glancing up and down your figure as he smirks. "It suits you, no pants and all."

He's not really joking about that- it looks way better on you, and to Logan's perverted mind, it is fascinating how this jersey he fills out so well, had a completely different style as it falls on you. It sort of drowns you- leaves your figure to the imagination- but there's just enough that he can see how it skims over your curves, making it easier for him to imagine running his hands over you. Logan thinks about lifting it up from the bottom hem, exposing you.

You turn red, almost forgetting that your legs are bare, and you don't know how to respond to that.

"Really?" You shake your head, ignoring Logan's compliment, knowing that he's just teasing. "Thanks, Logan. It honestly helps me sleep better."

You didn't mean to say that last part- you're not trying to expose the year long crush you've had on the guy- and you stutter over your words, trying not to reveal the comfort you feel around him.

You shut the fridge, and try to leave, but Logan is a little faster, and he's got you right where he wants. Against the fridge. Looking up at him, sweet, meek, just as cute as he remembers.

He leans over you. "Well, I could help you sleep better. If you want."

"Really?" You look up at him, tilting your head a little. "I thought you would think I was just some creep and tell me to fuck off."

"Oh, kid. You think you're the only one who can't stop thinking about us?" Logan swallows. "I think I've liked you since you had to help me figure out the teaching schedule, remember?"

"Who could forget? You were really struggling- your class started an hour late." You joke, and Logan grins. He's not usually such a smiley guy, and it's not something you take light-heartedly. You know he must trust you.

"Offer's still on the table." Logan murmurs, as he traces the collar of his jersey, against your neck and collarbones, and you shiver as he leans in, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It's warm, soft, inviting- but you think Logan must be holding himself back.

"Okay." You whisper up at him, and Logan, being as devious as he is, immediately grasps your waist, your ass, your thighs, squeezing, wanting to feel every bit of flesh, and he feels a deep rumble in his chest- something possessive as he leans in and kisses you, something firm and rough as he feels his shirt around you- and Logan's mouth slots against your own quite easily, open-mouthed, rough kisses that have you shuddering, as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you against the fridge.

You know Logan didn't mean sleeping. He meant putting you to sleep, by sleeping with you, and this silly double meaning, the idea of getting to do all that and then cuddle and sleep by his side, it makes you smile against his mouth.

Logan doesn't stop kissing you as he lifts you up and away, you still wrapped around him, towards his room, feeling an immense amount of slick, lustful pride that he's bringing back his shirt and his girl there.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {3}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: The rift you have caused comes to a destructive head when summer breaks is over. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, crash, injuries, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Summer Break “I really fucked up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound hoarse from all the crying. You were curled up on your side on the couch in Pierre’s apartment in Milan, your head on his lap as his hand ran up and down your arm in comfort. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“He’s your brother, he’ll forgive you,” he assured you once again. “I’ve said way worse things to my brothers. Maybe this break is exactly what you need, get away from Max for a few weeks, have some space.”

“And Lando, and Charles.” You groaned as you rolled onto your back and stared up at your closest friend. “You have a bear in the cave.”

“Gross, don’t look up my nose,” he said as he pushed you off his lap.

“I can’t help it, it’s the angle,” you laughed as you sat up before sobering. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Lando was heading back to Monaco to spend the holidays with Luisa, and Charles was on his way to the Alps to meet up with Charlotte.” 

You sighed at the mention of their girlfriends and Pierre gave you a look of pity that you resented. Pulling your phone out, with the determination to move on from the silly crushes that had developed over the years, you opened the Raya app and shifted closer to him. “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the phone and locking it. “I’m taking you on a road trip.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah, but I think it’s what you need.”

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You reunited with the team for Max’s home race and a sea of orange filled the stands, all cheering for their Lion. You had tried to talk to him when you arrived at the track but you didn’t know what to say to repair the rift you had made. Every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.

“That one’s for you,” Lance said as he tapped your elbow.

“Huh? What? Yeah, totally,” you rambled trying to recover from zoning out thinking about the three weeks of silence, not only with Max but Lando and Charles too. You had sat beside the Canadian on the sofa, the furthest point from the others and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You look like you enjoyed your vacation with Pierre. It was quite different to how you usually spend your down time.”

“Because I was sober?” you teased. “My liver needed a break, as did my PR team, and it was really quite fun. Exactly what I needed actually and it was great to reconnect with Pierre since he upgraded to Yuki.”

You could feel three sets of eyes on you from the other end but then the conversation was diverted their way and you sagged back into the couch. That was until you heard the news that the holiday had been dubbed ‘break-up season’. Both Spaniards had become single in the first week, Logan and Lando in the second and Charles in the third. It had been quite the shock to their fans.

If Pierre hadn't removed your social media for the break you would have known all of this but instead you had to find out on stage with dozens of cameras capturing the surprise on your face. 

The second the interview was over you chased after Lando and finally caught up to him at the McLaren motorhome.

“Hey, can we talk?” You were aware that there were still plenty of cameras around, and it looked like the Netflix crew were scheduled to his team too. “Somewhere private.”

He didn’t exactly look happy at the request but his eyes softened as you quietly begged, “please, Lan?”

“In here,” he sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as he opened the door to his room. The door clicked shut behind you and you looked around the small space, the air still humid and smelling like his body wash from the shower he took before the media conference.

“How was your break?” you asked as he sat down on a padded bench, leaving the more comfortable chair for you.

“Could have been better.”

There was a pregnant pause where you both waited for each other to speak. It wasn’t like him to be so short and you thought more would follow but he just stared back at you. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands on your lap. “I, uh, wanted to apologise for what I said to you. You were just being a good friend and I was a complete bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” he stated bluntly before he bit his lip and mouthed a silent, ‘sorry’ and tucked his knee up so he could rest his cheek on it.

You huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ve heard that once or twice. I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying to change. Can you forgive me?”

His head lifted with a frown, his soft curls falling over his forehead to meet them. “What? No.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it was but you had thought he would at least accept your apology. Rising from the chair, you started to make your way to the door until you heard the vinyl bench squeak as he followed.

“Wait,” he said as he caught your hand reaching for the handle. “You were right. So there’s nothing to forgive.” He tugged your hand so you turned to face him before he let it slip through his fingers. “I was unhappy, and I probably should have broken up with Luisa a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be alone again. Which, after you left, I realised is a poor reason to be in a relationship. So I really wasn’t up for offering advice. ” He smiled sheepishly and opened his arms. “Forgive me?”

You stepped into his embrace and buried your head in his neck with a nod. “You were right too.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” You were reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms but there was still one other person to apologise to. “I owe you and Charles for saving my ass. How about dinner at my place on Tuesday?”

“I mean, it was mostly me,” he joked as he puffed his chest up and pushed his shoulders back. “But we can invite him too, I guess.”

“Of course, my hero,” you swooned sarcastically before leaning in and kissed his cheek. “See you next Tuesday. See what I did there?”

“There’s my Spitfire,” he laughed and shook his head. “For a moment I thought you were gone.”

Max’s motorhome was empty when you reached it and so was the garage but his engineer, Calum, was there and said Max had gone to visit family. It hurt more than you expected to hear that you hadn’t been invited, especially since it was Jos’ side of the family that lived in the Netherlands. The side of the family you shared with Max. 

That pain followed you as you wandered around the paddock a little lost, signing autographs and stopping for photos with fans on autopilot. You didn’t know where to go, or how to fill the hours until Max returned. Then when he returned you weren’t even sure he would want to see you after what you said.

“Hey, I’ve called out like three times,” Charles said as he suddenly appeared in front of you and frowned at your startled reaction. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I’m in a world of my own,” you said as you looked around to see you were outside Ferrari hospitality. “How, uh, how have you been? I meant to call you over the break and thank you for what you and Lando did for me.”

“It’s no problem, but it was mostly me.”

“Funny, he said the exact same thing,” you smirked. “Anyway, as a thank you, you two are coming to my place for dinner on Tuesday. I promise I won’t give you food poisoning, this time.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he said sarcastically. “But Tuesday works for me. Where were you heading anyway? I thought you would be with Max.”

You couldn’t hide the wince on your face at the mention of your brother and Charles reached out and rubbed your shoulder with a look of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I actually need to go do a thing,” you lied as you started to feel the increasingly familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“Chérie, wait.” Charles made to follow as you backed away but he stopped when you shook your head.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you turned your back and wiped your eyes. It was race week and your emotions were all over the place, it was a recipe for disaster. 

Race Day

You threw your phone across the room and watched it bounce off the couch before hitting the floor with a crack. You could worry about the broken screen later, with the race only an hour away and Max still ignoring you there were more pressing things to think about.

You worked through your warm up routine under the watchful eye of your physiotherapist before making your way to the reflex machine. The lights danced across the buttons and you slapped each one with precision until it suddenly clicked off. 

“You’re not focused,” Kristian tutted.

“I hit them all,” you argued as you caught the bottle he threw to you and took a drink.

“Reacting out of habit is not the same as responding by reflex. You need to think, then do, not just do.”

You grumbled under your breath about what a load of crap it was but made a show of the next round before he gave up with a sigh. “I’m going to head down to the grid,” you said as you grabbed your helmet and balaclava. “Pierre can help me finish up.”

It was easy to spot Pierre with his PT, his concentration solely on the tennis balls he was focused on catching before they hit the ground. 

“Mind if I butt in?” you asked as you took the tennis balls and replaced Ben. “He still won’t talk to me.” You dropped the balls at the same time and he easily swiped them from the air before tossing it back into your palm.

“You can take my spot for the anthem, I think I saw my name next to his on the seating chart.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admitted as you dropped the balls one after another trying to trick him. “I called him a dick, twice.”

One ball bounced along the asphalt when he laughed, missing the easy catch. “That’s the opposite of apologising.”

“I know, he just pissed me off.” You caught sight of the race suit that matched yours and watched him walk on the far side of the grip with Charles. “I don’t like being ignored.”

Pierre grabbed the wayward tennis ball and returned to hold them up over your hands. “You did start that by ignoring him first.”

“I thought we were friends.” You caught the ball he dropped and tossed it at his face. “You’re meant to take my side.”

He caught it before it could connect with his nose and crossed his arms with an amused smirk on his face. “I am your friend, so I will tell it like it is. Go talk to him.”

 You narrowed your eyes at him as you stepped away and he nodded encouragingly as you made your way across the home straight. 

“Not now,” Max said as soon as you stepped into his field of vision, making Charles look over his shoulder. 

“Then when?” you asked. “After the race? Next week? Next year? Should I put my name up for a transfer? Is that what you want?”

“Woah, what's going on?” Charles asked as watched you grow increasingly more upset with each question.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Max said coldly. “Oma sends her regards and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see you.”

“You didn’t fucking invite me,” you growled as you stepped closer jabbed a finger into his chest.

Max rolled his eyes and schooled his face to one of boredom. “You told me to leave you alone.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Charles interrupted, pushing himself between you and your brother before you could get disqualified. “Walk with me.”

Charles stepped closer and his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around before one hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you to keep moving. 

“What’s going on?” he asked as he took a seat against the pitwall and pulled you down beside him. “And don’t say it’s nothing. You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“We had an argument and now he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Charles draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “He’s your older brother, he could never hate you. Trust me, there’s nothing Arthur could say that would make me hate him.”

“Arthur’s too nice to say anything mean, but me? I’m a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, you’re just passionate.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a chuckle. “I like that about you.”

“You must be the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he murmured quietly and you followed his line of sight to Lando who was making his way over while everyone else started to move to the front of the grid. “Time to go.”

Charles stood up as Lando offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Try not to get too excited hearing the Dutch anthem,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from both of them as they fell into step either side of you, “again.”

You were driving recklessly, determined to beat Max, but it had meant receiving a black and white flag warning for exceeding the track limits three times. One more violation and you would get a five second penalty, practically handing the win over on a silver platter.

“You need to manage your tires,” Nicholas warned over the radio. “You are pushing them too hard, the degradation rate is exponential. They won’t last to the end of the race unless you slow down and stay between the white lines.”

“I can’t slow down when I have Max with DRS behind me.”

“That’s not the plan. We want a 1-2 finish, it doesn’t matter who leads across the line.”

“It does to me.”

You passed the next DRS detection line and took the corner at speed before hitting the straight and trying to defend your position. Max was right at your bumper, riding the slipstream as he increased speed in preparation to slingshot out and past you. 

Only something went wrong.

Instead of going around you, Max’s front wing crashed into the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels off the track and sending you scraping the length of the pit wall while he spun out. Debris hit your helmet as Max’s car slammed into the concrete barriers and carbon fibre splintered apart, raining over you and the track. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you growled into the comms as you pulled your steering console out and unbuckled the harness. You jumped over the side of your car and ran towards Max’s, hurling abuse at him the entire way. “Who’s the spoiled brat now? You just couldn’t let me have the win could you? Dick!”

A pained groan was all you heard from the cockpit and the anger evaporated in an instant as dreaded fear replaced it. You leapt onto the top of the car and reached over the halo, pulling the visor up on Max’s helmet to see a dazed look in his icy blue eyes before they fluttered shut. 

“Max, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me, dammit!” you growled as you started to pull his harness open and looked around wildly, wondering when help was coming. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I don’t hate you, okay? I don’t hate you. You’re my big brother and I love you, so you have to stick around and be overprotective and piss me off for a very long time. So open your fucking eyes!”

“Zusje?” he asked after a moment of blinking dumbly. “What happened?”

“You forgave me and said I could borrow your yacht.”

“Bullshit,” he groaned as he pushed his harness off his shoulders and accepted your hand to help him climb out. “I would never let you borrow my yacht.”

A groan wheezed out as his boots hit the ground and you wrapped an arm around his waist to take his weight, holding him steady. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Only if I can get a recording of your radio, you actually sounded worried for me,” he said with a laugh before he clutched his ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“Of course I was worried, asshole. I thought you were hurt.”

“I am hurt,” he pointed out before rapping his knuckles on your helmet. “I love you too, little sis. Even when you say you hate me.”

Click here for Not A Verstappen: Gridlock {1}.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky

[lovinpelova]

found out | j. fleming

summary; y/n uses the wrong word and asks for a definition of said word, when her and jessie give each other a knowing look and are caught the team teases them endlessly.

🎵 the morning - the weeknd

it was no secret that you and jessie had been together for ages. fans realised this when they first stalked your friends socials for pictures of jessie at ucla before finding pictures of you and jessie, way too close to be best friends. they then found pictures of you and her kissing after a couple matches before cracking the code and spreading the news.

now at twenty-five and twenty-four, you'd been together nearly nine years and couldn't be happier. sam joked sometimes that you'd be dead before you got married but you always argued back that you were still fairly young to be fully tied down and weren't going to break up anytime soon- if you were going to break up you'd have done it more than eight years ago.

obviously you and jessie were extremely comfortable with each other in every way possible, loving her for nine years, receiving endless reassurance and adoration meant you trusted each other with everything in yourselves. especially in the bedroom, that's how you got here today.

the canadians lips scattered over your neck hungrily to produce more blood-red love bites wherever she could, her tongue running over your skin like she was a vampire starved for ten years. her left hand pinning your right one above your head with a silk blindfold laced between your fingers and her right hand endlessly moving around your thigh, pulling it to wrap around her waist alongside your other one as she began to roughly grind into you.

"love when you let me do this."

she mumbled against your collarbone, voice slightly tuned out by the string of moans she was pulling from you as your left hand clawed at her bare and muscular back. the canadian groaned in response to your nails digging into her skin and leaving a trail in their wake, flesh turning red raw like your hickeys as you threw your head back and moaned loudly at the way her muscles rippled and flexed under your touch.

"jess..."

you trailed off breathlessly, not knowing what you were calling for her to do as it was all so overwhelming you couldn't even think properly, your brain was short-circuiting and judging by the way jessie chuckled cockily in your face she knew exactly what was happening.

"yeah, baby?"

the midfielder teased, feigning innocence whilst her right hand trailed up your bare torso to massage your breasts just the way she knew you liked- you had been together close to ten years after all, what kind of a girlfriend would she be if she didn't know how to make you fall apart without even fucking you?

"need you."

you babbled mindlessly, the affects of mind-numbing pleasure only jessie could source you with already taking place as you whined and squirmed underneath her muscular body. she'd stopped moving her hips by now and she didn't want you to move yours either, so she took her hand away from your semi-clothed chest and pushed your waist down into the bed beneath you with her biceps bulging from the display of strength.

"need me to do what? where do you need me babygirl?"

you hesitated, knowing she wanted you to be filthy and vulgar with what you said next. as much as you loved jessie when she was like this, you hated extremely explicit dirty talk - only if you were saying it, jessie saying it was beyond nice - it made you feel weird saying things like that out loud.

"c'mon princess, can't make my girl feel good if i don't know what she wants can i?"

"jess- please, need you to fuck me."

"see? that's all i wanted to hear. such a good girl."

the praise made your brain go to mush, the hand that was clawing at her shoulder mindlessly pulling her closer to smash your lips onto hers desperately. whatever you could take from jessie, whatever she would give you, you were taking it. she suggested using the article of silk laced between your hands a couple years back when you decided to start exploring a less vanilla side of your sex life and it's safe to say she loves it.

whether she's blindfolded or using it on you, she adores it. the way it heightens the senses, makes touch and smell and words ten times more intense without a single clue what they're going to do next- that's what jessie loves. the cluelessness to it, the realisation that you don't know what will happen next. it makes the orgasm ten times better, especially if it's sudden.

"you sure you still wanna use this prettygirl?"

jessie mumbled against your lips, moaning into your mouth when you pulled away to bite her lip roughly, letting her know you wanted it hard and you wanted it now. jessie loved fucking you like that, especially when you were blindfolded. the noises you let out were music to her ears but with the way they'd grow impossibly louder out of shock when she'd touch you if you didn't expect it?

god, jessie fucking loved it.

you nodded eagerly with a grin on your face matching hers, letting go of her hand so she could move the silk blindfold to wrap around your eyes. she tapped your temple twice lightly in a silent request you lift your head, humming in approval when you did so and carefully tying a knot around the back.

"that okay? not too tight or too loose?"

"no, it's perfect baby."

you pressed your head back against the pillows, jessie undyingly turned on by the sight beneath her. ever since the first time you'd used a blindfold she could swear she'd never been so turned on in her life before.

the way your breathing hitched with every move she'd make or time she'd touch you, how your hands would tentatively reach out and always land on her muscular arms or toned back to ground yourself, it was nowhere near the way you reacted to her without a blindfold. obviously jessie loves having sex with you no matter what, but there was just something different about it when a blindfold was involved- don't even get her started on how much she loves being blindfolded herself.

the way you straddle her hips and mindlessly grind against her without warning, roughly pushing her head back or to the side so your lips could devour their way along her body, filthy whispers of what you wanted to do to her - or what you wanted her to do to you - making her moan louder than ever as it's all she could focus on. no sight means heightened hearing, so if you're whispering all the ways you've thought about fucking her or being fucked by her? she's a goner.

don't even get her started on the one time you restricted her hands as well. using another piece of silk to tie her wrists together against the bedframe, denying her the right to touch you as you got your own satisfaction and didn't give jessie the pleasure until she begged to touch you. (spoiler warning; when you let her out of those restraints she fucked you dumb.)

"how you feelin' baby?"

she questioned right against your ear, knowing the whispered words affected you from the breath you let out against her neck, feeling her hands wrap your legs around her waist again as she started grinding down into you at the perfect angle. jessie had been with you eight years, nearly nine, she knew exactly how to push your buttons and when to push them. right now, she was putting that to use, turning you on as much as she possibly could so she can give you the worlds best orgasm in a couple moments time.

"so turned on, jess."

you breathed out into her ear, kissing her skin afterwards and pushing your hips up into hers after you'd worked out her rhythm and immediately being rewarded by a delicious friction against your core, the canadian a bit frustrated at the way you just took that from her without asking but letting you off because of the loud moan you let out.

"good, it's gonna be worth it when i fuck you until you can't speak anymore."

--------

it was media day at chelsea, meaning you and jessie were going to be split up for an unnecessary amount of time the next couple hours. sure, you'd have your media buddies you'd been partnered up with but it just wasn't the same as each other, you hated media days.

you'd just finished a game of guess who with guro for the barclayswsl tiktok account and chelseawfc youtube channel, meaning you had a fifteen minute break before you and the norwegian were put back to work with another media team for another social media account. quickly heading to sit beside one of your best friends millie and seeing jessie being guided over with niamh helping her, you went to jump up and hug her before staying put next to your skipper when you saw what she was wearing.

"niamh whys she got a blindfold on?"

millie made a noise of confusion from next to you, the girl you previously addressed stopping her footsteps as jessies mouth fell open slightly from your words.

"that's not a blindfold, it's an eyemask."

millie corrected you, making your competitive nature reveal itself for a moment as you challenged her immediately, your girlfriend listening as she pulled the eyemask down to rest around her neck and niamh watching amusedly.

"what would you define a blindfold as then?"

"like, a bit of material put over your eyes. they're mainly used to kidnap people, you know the usual."

you scoffed at millies joke and turned to look at jessie, the pair of you giving each other one of those looks when you thought you weren't being watched, only realising you were being watched.

"oi! what was that look for?"

millie questioned, niamh racking her brain for any answers whilst millie had a slight idea of what you and jessie just said to each other with your eyes. you shrugged in response, thinking of something sarcastic to say.

"jessie can agree with me when i say blindfolds are subjective to context."

the blonde next to you had her straight face scrunch up in disgust for a second as you grinned cockily at her, turning to your girlfriend as she smiled sheepishly with a massive blush across her cheeks as usual.

"you two disgust me."

"what? what does she mean? what have i missed?"

niamh questioned, genuinely confused by what you'd said and drawing the attention of other teammates. guro shuffled closer, sam came over with jess and lauren arrived at some point too, putting you and jessie on the spot as soon as millie explained it to niamh.

"her and jessie have used a blindfold before."

"okay? why would they do that?"

"no, niamh. they've used a blindfold before."

the defenders expression changed from one of recognition to one of disgust, pretending to throw up as all the other girls started teasing or turning away in shock. you and jessie sat there and took the brunt of it all, knowing there was nothing you could do now that the secret was out. plus, how could you be upset? at least you were still getting some.

[seeingivy]

speak now

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

songs mentioned: the greatest by lana del ray and speak now by taylor swift! (minor mentions: daylight and forever winter by taylor swift)

an: LIGHTS CAMERA ACTION BITCHES!!!

previous part linked here

--

There’s something strange about showing Eren around an elementary school. Or strange about being around Eren at all. 

There’s an overarching hunch, a quiet fear that parrots in your mind whenever you’re with him, stuck in those quiet pockets of time that you feel like he can see right through you, that every secret thought ricocheting in your mind is one that he’s entirely cognizant of - and that he hates it for it.

It almost fills you with disgust. How badly you want to be around him all the time, to be able to read him the way you’re positive that he can read you, just so that you can know what he’s thinking. 

Is he upset with the way you reacted? Does he know how grateful you are towards him? Is he consoled by the fact that he’s fully forgiven? Does he care?

Does he think about you as much as you think about him? 

The elementary school makes it worse. Almost emotional. Because it’s the fact that even though it’s not your school, it’s exactly how you remember it - so nostalgic that it’s nauseating. Though the colors are less vibrant, almost too dull this time around. The desks are comically small, when they used to be so expansive that you could barely reach the front corners. 

“Did you ever collect Box-Tops?” you ask Eren. 

He looks at you, face wrinkled in confusion as he shrugs. And the second his eyes lock with yours, you quickly swallow down your gulp of shame - at the lost, almost pinched look in his eyes - as he quickly averts his eyes. 

Does he hate you for bringing it up? Does he want to berate you for rubbing in the fact that he had no semblance of a normal childhood? 

You take the little jar, the little cardboard slips secured in the glass, as you hold it up to him. 

“These are Box-Tops. They’re usually on the top of cereal boxes and granola bars and stuff. You can collect them and bring them to class and whoever gets the most in your grade usually gets a pizza party. It’s a charity-type thing where they get more funds for things like arts programs at your school by turning them into the foundation.” you murmur, placing the little jar in his hands. 

“You can’t just…fund the schools properly?” Eren asks, wrinkling his nose. 

“Are you crazy, Eren? Why would they ever do that?” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Eren smiles.  

“Figures. D’you ever win?” 

“Win what?” 

“The pizza party.” 

“Oh, maybe once or twice. They usually only buy two pizzas so you get a comically small slice so that it’s enough to go around for everyone. And I had Falco and Colt to share with - we had to split all the Box Tops we collected evenly between the three of us so I always felt lame turning like three or four in.” you state. 

Does he think your complaint is stupid? That you should be grateful that you even got to experience it in the first place? 

“What if there was an even number?” 

“Rock paper scissors. Then Falco started crying when he lost, so we ended up giving it to him anyway.” you state. 

“Very on brand.” 

Eren smiles - brightly this time - as he sets the jar back onto the top of the filing cabinets and the two of you continue to awkwardly pace around the room. Eren’s overwhelmed with the memory - of Falco sobbing at his first Canadian Christmas when he was asked what he was thankful for - and the consistency makes him warm.

There’s something unsettling about the room - about how foreign it is to him. There’s a weird echo panging in Eren’s chest, somewhat caused by how longingly you seem to be looking at every little detail of the room. Running your hand over the hardwood desks, picking up the box of crayons, almost frowning at the pictures.

The thoughts that run through Eren’s mind are almost paralyzing, that he can barely keep his beating heart collected in his chest, and more awkwardly, that you know and are choosing to ignore it for civility sake. 

Are you going to leave him when the show ends? Would you have left him if you lived a different life too?

Are you never going to end up together?

“Did you ever see Falco and Colt? When you were at school? S’that like a thing that happened?” Eren asks, poking around each of the little flyers on the bulletin board.

“Ah. Not really. Though sometimes when I was going to art class and Falco was going to computers or something, we’d kind of pass each other. We’d always be really excited to see each other. When we saw Colt, he always pretended like he didn’t even know who we were.” you state. 

Eren can't stop the thoughts.

Do you hate him for bringing up a life that was robbed from you? The security of a school, of a quiet life because he selfishly picked you to be at his side? 

Eren hums in response, as you head over to the last wall - the one left untouched by your inspecting eyes - as you fight the urge to smile. There’s little pictures of each of the students, Teddy right towards the top with a big toothy smile on his face. You point it out to Eren as you catch it before him, memorizing the soft look that spreads over his face when he finally catches light of it. 

“You ever see Zeke?” you ask. 

“Well, we technically watched a movie with him in it? So, that counts?” Eren shrugs. 

“That’s right. Having your own parents and your brother as your source material must be so crazy.”

The thought that follows your comment nauseates Eren.

Are you trying to point out how different you are, so much so that you’ll never be able to be together? 

“I can imagine exactly how you would be in elementary school.” Eren states, slinging his arm around your shoulder and bringing his face nearly flush with yours. 

“Oh yeah?” you ask.

“You’d be like…this girl.” 

You inspect the picture, rolling your eyes at the cop-out answer. Each of the little pictures is labeled with their hobbies or their interests, and naturally, Eren’s picked the girl who says she wants to be a songwriter. 

“You’re funny.” you respond, sarcastically. 

“S’nothing funny about it.” Eren responds. 

“You’d be like…this one. He seems like the type of kid who would pull on a girl's pigtails, which according to Mikasa, is something that you actually did.” 

Eren’s going to kill Jean. 

“That’s just how you get a girl's attention.” Eren responds. 

“Is that right? Had something you wanted to tell Mikasa really badly?” you smile. 

Eren’s almost embarrassed that you know. That he feels the need to defend himself, to prove his devotion to you even though there would be no reason for him to do that. 

“Ugh. Who told you?” Eren asks. 

You can’t help but laugh. 

“I can’t remember. Maybe Jean?” 

“It was two days!” Eren whines. 

You’re not sure how the topic came up, but Jean humbled you very fast when you claimed that you were the first person that Eren ever liked. Apparently you weren’t because Eren had sported a two day crush on Mikasa when they were younger, before he ever met you, which left you embarrassed - but also ready to tease him to oblivion. 

“Eremika…” you state. 

Eren clamps his hand over your mouth, as you quickly shove him off. 

“Shut up.” Eren states. 

“It’s funny! Mikasa’s getting married and you’re stuck at a five-year old’s piano concert. With seats all the way in the back, mind you.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans back and sits on top of one of the desks. You follow suit, ignoring the little creak, as your legs swing over the top of the desk. 

“What was your signature move in elementary school for the boys?” 

“Was I supposed to have game as a seven year old?” 

Eren scoffs. 

“Well, we can’t all be talented.” Eren teases. 

“I hardly qualify hair pulling as a game. That’s an annoying way to get attention.” 

Eren smiles, leaning forward and curling his hands around a lock of your hair, before he lightly tugs. His face is so close to yours that you can make out the tiniest wrinkles in his skin, marked around his eyes. 

“Annoyed?” Eren teases, his voice barely a whisper. 

You shake your head, ever so slightly. A jarring movement feels too loud, like he’ll move away at the smallest of breaths, like a deer in the woods. 

“Down to my very core.” you respond. 

Eren smiles, the wrinkles even more pronounced, as you almost lean your forehead against his, skin ghosting each others. The thoughts are racing at this point, so fast that Eren can barely feel his breaths. 

Is he ever going to be in love with someone who isn’t you? 

“I feel the need to clarify. It was two days.” Eren states. 

“Two days of hopeless pining.” 

“Nothing compared to the three years of it that I did with you.” 

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning. 

He knows. It's written all over your face.

“Nothing compares to a puppy-love childhood crush.” you state. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the whole innocence of the puppy-love thing, but nothing pales comparison to the intensity of a teenage dream.” Eren states. 

Eren watches your eyes waver and feels his throat constrict. 

You know. It's written all over his face.

Thankfully for him, and less so for you, Sukuna ruins the movement. His shouting from the doorway breaks that quiet bubble, quickly pulling you both farther away from each other. 

“What the hell are you guys doing? It’s starting in five minutes.” 

--

You and Eren settle into your seats at the back, right by the door, as the lights dim in the little auditorium. They’re a warm golden, the smell of fresh paint tickling your nostrils.

Sitting all the way in the back has you and Eren weaving your heads around all the people crowded in front of you, the tiny cell phone lights illuminating each row. 

You catch sight of Lana and Sukuna are aggressively gesturing at Teddy on the stage from their cushy seats in the front row at your left - Sukuna trying to get him to smile for a picture while Lana tries to signal to him to fix his untied shoelaces. The coddling makes your heart burn.  

Eren digs into his coat pocket and pulls out a little camcorder that he hands to you. 

“For?” you ask. 

“Can you record it for me? I just…want to watch him in real time.” 

You smile. 

“Of course, I can.” you murmur, taking the little camera from him and flipping it open in your hands. 

“Don’t record the other kids. I don’t give a fuck.” Eren states. 

“Who knew you felt so passionately about kindergarten piano concert etiquette?” you jeer. 

“You would be shocked. Lana’s basically out of storage by the time she gets to Teddy.” Eren groans. 

You roll your eyes. 

“I think it’s sweet.” 

Eren wonders if there’s anything you can’t find the good in. His wavering suspicion is that it’s him - that you’re the worst thing he’s ever seen. So tainted that there’s barely any semblance of light left in him. 

Eren’s hanging onto the end of your words, wanting to hear the spiral of thoughts running through your mind. Your affinity to look towards the positive, to soak up all the good, to point out all the love in the room - it was something he found himself chasing even though he knew he was barely half deserving of it. 

“I just mean…when I was younger, my mom would tell me that my friend’s mom recorded me singing too and then sent it to her. And I was always really touched that they saw me and didn’t think god, it’s another kid I have to sit through. Like no, that’s Y/N! That’s my daughter’s friend.” 

Eren deflates. He figures that it comes so naturally for you - seeing the good - because he thinks the law of attraction is real; that like attracts like, that people find what’s similar to them. And that he always seems to be the antithesis to it. 

He’s always the exception to your rule. 

“And some parents are late. They’re running here from work, or…or they were late because they had another kid to take care of first and…and it still makes the kid feel special, even if they don’t know it.” you whisper. 

You twist the camera around in your hands as Eren gives you a lopsided smile, an underlying sentiment you can’t really place mirrored in his features. You’d memorize his expression just to agonize about it later, in the safe confines of your room, but your train of thought is cut off by a tapping on your shoulder. 

It’s a little girl - with dark skin and braided hair - barely the age of seven. Her little legs can’t even reach the tan colored floor, her sparkly purple shoes glittering in the dim light. 

“Hi.” she states. 

Eren leans over, a cautious arm on the small of your back, as you lean your head closer to hers and whisper. 

“Hi. Is something wrong?” you whisper. 

“Our dresses are matching colors.” she states. 

You look down - the white flowers printed on your dress matching her frilly pleats. It’s an painfully relieving breath, as you give her a smile. 

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

“Y/N? Like the pop artist?” 

You freeze, freezing cold ice shooting down your spine. 

“I wish my mom named me after someone cool. My name’s Grace. It was my grandma’s name.” 

You can barely muster out a response, Eren’s fingertips at your side squeezing shaking the shock out of your mind. 

“I’m sure your grandma was pretty cool.” you respond, barely registering the words as they leave your lips. 

“I mean, yeah. She was old. But no one’s as cool as Y/N L/N.” she responds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

You can see Eren smiling out of your peripheral vision, giving a polite nod to the parents seated at her side, who’ve now caught onto the fact that their daughter is talking to a complete stranger. Eren’s quick to diffuse the situation, holding out a hand to them. 

“I’m Eren. This is Y/N. We’re here for Teddy. Curly blonde hair, big brown eyes?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry…did you say your name was Y/N?” 

You give them a sheepish smile, bringing your hands to the coarse skin above your elbows and pinching. 

“That’s right.” 

“Our daughter’s a really big fan.” they state. 

You smile, looking back down at her dark eyes, this time wide in shock. 

“Is that right?” you ask, trying to give her the warmest smile you can. 

Her parents lean down closer to her ears, the overwhelming sense of a flowery perfume taking over your senses, as you watch them talk to her, softly. 

“Okay. Ask her nicely, okay?” they ask. 

Grace gives them an obedient nod, before turning to you and puffing her chest out to you. 

“Can I have a hug?” 

“Oh. You…you want a hug?” 

“Please? It’ll be quick.” she asks, her little voice shrill with a hopeful tone. 

There’s a soft sense of elation that spreads through you, your cheeks warm at such an innocent request, as you can barely stop your arms from shaking. You open up your arms to her, as she nearly jumps into your embrace, and you squeeze her little frame as tightly as you can. The smell of strawberries wafts off her hair, accompanied by a soft giggling sound in your ear that nearly brings tears to your eyes. 

You look up to find her parents, an awkward pinched smile in their eyes, as you give them a polite smile. 

“I promise, I’ll take a picture with her after the show, okay? And if I forget, please come find me and remind me.” 

The relief is apparent in their faces - their sickeningly grateful smiles over something as simple as a picture - as you let go and she settles back into the seat next to you. 

You have to settle for recording Teddy with one hand, a deathlike grip in the camera, only because Grace refuses to let go of your other hand for the rest of the show. 

--

Eren’s surprisingly really good with kids. Or really, not surprisingly at all, because you were finding it hard to identify something that Eren was really bad at. Because even the mistakes he did make were so painfully endearing, so warmly thoughtful that you could barely accost him for it. 

He's making jokes with all the kids - participating in their rock paper scissors contests, playing pranks on their parents, and stealing cookies for them when people aren't looking.

You guys are the last ones to leave the school. But it’s only because Eren’s so enthralled with talking to all the passing people - taking pictures, signing napkins, and making phone calls to all their loved ones - that it makes your chest swell. 

The narrowed eyes still make you nervous, an underlying feeling of inadequacy - of embarrassment for hiding out for so long - is all but nauseating, something Sukuna picks up on right after Eren. 

He lets Lana take the lead on the pictures and mingling with all the parents, apparently something that was Sukuna’s forté, as he keeps his arm linked with yours, backs cold against the cement wall.  

“You know, you can go make your rounds with Lana. I don’t want to ruin your son’s piano concert for you.” you state. 

“This shit is overrated.” 

You smile. 

“You’re lying.” you state. 

Sukuna looks over at you, brown eyes fixed on yours, as you watch a smile curl on his face. It’s almost boyish - and it’s the first time that you’re acutely aware of the fact that Sukuna’s probably the youngest one here - living a life so vastly different from yours. 

“I am lying.” Sukuna states. 

“Do you like it here, Sukuna?” you whisper. 

“I’m better at this than I was at the whole - award show, celebrity world thing. People here are really easily impressed.” 

“Is that right?” 

“I handed a woman a lemonade earlier and she said God bless you. Over a fucking lemonade.” 

“That’s just basic human decency, sweetheart. Were you raised by wolves?” you ask. 

Sukuna scoffs. 

“Basically.” he responds. 

You hum in response, watching Lana crouch on the ground and press her cheek to Teddy’s as Eren quickly snaps the picture for them. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Sukuna asks. 

“Is me saying no going to stop you?” you ask. 

“Probably not.” 

“Proceed.” you respond. 

“So, what did you really do for two years? And don’t give me the same shitty bullshit as last time. I want to know what it was that you did.” he responds, tone unrelenting. 

You pause, mulling over the question. You knew it would come soon enough, the utter bleakness of it all, but you suppose it's like ripping off a bandaid. That it'll become softer to talk about after you do it so many times.

“It’s not pretty.” you respond. 

“I’ve always thought you were really ugly. It’s hardly a difference for me.” 

“Lovely. In a world of boys, you really are a gentleman, Sukuna.” 

He grins, nursing the glass of lemonade in his hand. 

“To be a woman is to perform. Now, tell.” Sukuna responds.

The truth of the matter is that there’s nothing to tell. Because you didn’t do anything. 

“I got home from doing the interview and spent the entire week with Falco and Colt. I-I basically didn’t let them leave my side. Falco slept with me at night, Colt basically watched over me like a hawk.” 

It’s a crashing plate, worried eyes, and an embarrassingly debilitating loss. 

“And then Falco came into my room one day and told me that The Lucky One sold more vinyls than all of my other albums combined, in one week.” you state. 

“Non-fluff shit prevails. I’ve been telling you.” 

“I didn’t approve of that album being distributed as vinyl. For physical sales - at all. It wasn’t about the money or the records or- or any of that. And when Falco told me, I-” 

Sukuna looks over, at the lump in your throat. He knows the feeling too well - the sweaty skin, the heavy tongue, and slips his hand into yours at his side. 

“I broke his phone.” you state. 

“What?” 

“I took it from his hands and I smashed it. Then my own too. That’s partially why I never called you guys. I didn’t exactly memorize your numbers and I wasn’t in a position where I was going to just ask for them back.” you state. 

“Not like you would have called anyways.” Sukuna states.

“I only knew Mikasa was having an engagement party because she sent me a physical invitation. Only knew Marco died because of the news. I-I barely knew what any of them were doing when I was gone, still.”  

You bite your tongue, the tiniest metallic taste enveloping your mouth, as you pull the now warm, puffed up flesh away from your teeth. 

“I knew that if I came back, it would mean I would be sucked back into it. What’s your response going to be, hint at it with this song, come back like this and…I’d rather lock myself in my house then do that again. I love songwriting, but not enough to sacrifice my dignity. I enjoyed my career but it drained the life out of me.” 

Sukuna’s lip twitches. You choose to ignore it for the time being. 

“I took up different hobbies. Got a sewing machine, made sourdough from scratch, I even learned flower arranging. But, I could tell that I must have seemed like I was off my rocker or something. My parents and my brothers never really left my side, I could tell that they were always worrying about me, and-and I hated that because-”  

Sukuna stops you before you get too choked up, now standing in front of you, his back blocking the sight of you from any of the people milling around the courtyard. 

“I know that’s a shitty answer. That I should have been doing something worthwhile. But, but- I was fucking tired. I was done doing all this and I can’t exactly…be a functioning member of society or something. I can barely stand here without people giving me a second look or trying to get a discreet picture.” you whisper. 

“I just wanted to know. I’m not giving you shit for it.” he whispers. 

You frown. 

“You aren’t. But maybe you should.” 

You look over his shoulder, at Eren squishing Teddy’s cheeks with his fingers as Lana takes a picture of them - far too close to barely even get the two of them in it together. 

“He fought for me when I wasn’t even here anymore. I was moping in my house, breaking plates whenever I got frustrated, and he was still moving forward.” you murmur. 

Sukuna pauses. 

“Y/N. Don’t do that. I need you to be so careful with what the fuck you do after you leave here.” 

The sense of urgency in his voice catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Y/N. It won’t happen if you’re careless. You cannot wallow in your own pity about this, I need you to tread lightly, okay?” 

“What won’t happen?” 

Sukuna glares at you.

“You and him. You could spend years pointing fingers at each other, who didn’t do what. You won’t get him back if you stay there when he’s moved forward.” 

“I don’t want him.” you whisper. 

You barely believe it when it comes out of your mouth. 

“You disgust me, Y/N.” he states. 

“You’ve always had such a way with words.” 

“And you’ve always had a lack of critical thinking. Why wouldn’t you want him?” 

“Why would he want me?” 

“He just does. The same way you just do.” 

You swallow hard. 

“Fine. Be a fucking idiot for all I care. If you do ever knock some sense into that thick fucking skull of yours, just be careful. Eren knows that he has to prove he cares about you for you to come back to him. You need to know that he barely thinks he’s deserving of anything from you, so much so, that he won’t ever make the move.” 

Sukuna doesn’t mince his words. You wish he could have you through every important decision of your life just so you wouldn’t stumble and fall as much as you did. 

“Eren’s called the shots since you were fifteen. You’re going to have to call all the next ones. And for the love of god, really. I’m so tired of that fucking freeloader showing up whenever he pleases. And you look really ugly when you look sad, so just do it right please.”  

You smile. 

“Are you insinuating I’m pretty when I don’t look sad?” 

“I hope you fall off a bridge and never recover.” Sukuna responds. 

--

The sniffling cues Eren onto the fact that you’re crying. The air pressure of the plane is overwhelming in his ears, almost so loud that he misses it, but he counts himself lucky that you’ve always been an obscenely loud crier. He peeks his head over the division over your seats and reaches forward to poke your head. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks. 

You give him a meek nod. You know for a fact that he doesn’t believe it for one second. 

“Can I come over there for a second? I don’t want to talk from so far away.” Eren asks. 

“Isn’t that like…illegal? Two people in one seat.” you murmur. 

“This is first class, the seat is basically a bed. And there’s no laws in the air.” 

You frown. 

“Eren. Laws still exist in the air. They’re just local.” 

Eren smiles. 

“Well, aren’t you a little genius? Scooch over.” 

You shift on the seat, pulling your blanket closer to you as Eren very precariously makes his way over to your seat, the two of you almost cramped in the small space. It’s almost funny how there’s barely any room, your foreheads pressed together from the lack of space. 

“Hey.” he whispers. 

“Hi.” 

“What’s wrong, Margaret?” 

You shake your head. His hands are warm on your sides. 

“Come on. Tell me. I’m really good at fixing problems.” 

“I know.” 

Eren can’t place what the tone is in your voice - but it comes out all strained and raspy - that it rubs him the wrong way. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” you clarify. 

“Which way do you mean it?” Eren asks. 

You sigh. 

“I mean. You handled everything considerably well, even if it wasn’t easier for you. You…you waited until I was ready to hear it, until I asked to be told your side of the story. And you put it all together, wrapped in a perfect bow with that documentary, and then took me to see Lana and Sukuna too because you knew I’d want to.” you mumble. 

“Wrapped in a ribbon. Who the fuck calls it a bow?” 

You roll your eyes, earning you a laugh from Eren that’s so loud it makes you laugh too. You reach forward to clamp your fingers over his mouth, muffling the loud sound, as you shush him loudly. 

Eren pauses. 

“I’m glad it worked. And I had a lot of time to think. You don’t have as much, but…we’ll help you. With whatever you want to do.” Eren states. 

You give him a nod, unsatisfied with the answer. 

“What were you thinking?” Eren asks. 

You fish out the little slip of your pocket, nearly smushing your face into his in the process, and place the little paper in his hand. 

“This is…Satoru Gojo’s phone number?” Eren asks. 

“Yeah. I got it from Sukuna.” 

“For what purpose?” 

You pause. 

“I’m going to bury Scott Clarkson into the ground.” 

Eren’s caught off by the answer. 

“You’re what?” 

“What answer were you expecting?” 

“I’m not mad at it. I was just thinking more…I want to write music again. I’m not a quitter.” 

You frown. 

“I thought about that. But it hasn’t exactly worked for me like that. I even tried when I was at the beach but I came up with nothing. But that’s not relevant, I don’t need to write music to end him.” 

“I mean, yeah, I guess. But it’s better that way. Using exactly what they tried to take away from you to get back at them.” Eren responds. 

You smile. 

“You’ll help me?” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I’d do anything for you. Even this. Especially this.” 

You smile. You reach forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard. 

“Thank you. And I get what you’re saying about the music, but it just isn’t happening, so we’ll have to think of something else.” 

“I have an idea. When we get back to set, okay? I think it’ll help.” Eren states. 

You nod. 

“Okay. I trust you.” you respond. 

The sentiment sends a shiver down Eren’s spine. 

“I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise that it’ll work out the way we want it.” Eren clarifies. 

You smile. 

“I was trusting you to help me get back into songwriting, not into bringing him down. I’m talking about help into being…myself again.” 

Eren’s eyes flicker, down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. You almost swear that you imagined it. 

“Do you think I’m different?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” 

You pale. 

“Do you hate me for it?” you ask. 

Eren shakes his head. 

“I like you better like this.” he whispers.

Eren reaches forward, tucking the loose hairs back behind your ear, before his warm fingers are secured around the nape of your neck. He does it a second time, looks at your lips, and this time you swear the corners of his mouth are twitching too. 

“You weren’t very confident when I met you, almost like you didn’t think you were cut out to do this. Unsure of why you even had a place in the room. Then you went so far away from me, worked yourself so hard, that I barely remember you even smiling at any of us anymore. You were angry, then you were heartbroken, and apparently you broke a lot of plates when you weren’t with any of us?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m going to kill Falco.” 

“Colt.” Eren corrects. 

You scoff. 

“No way. Eren, he kind of hates you.” 

“Kind of? Colt was ready to punch me in the face when he first got to set. Rightfully so.” Eren responds. 

“It’s actually not rightfully so. He didn’t even know what you did.” you state. 

Eren pauses. 

“I know. He got here and asked me first thing what it was I did to you. Then he wanted to punch me in the face when I told him.” 

You shrug. You can tell that Eren’s waiting for an explanation - green eyes looking at you expectantly as you give him a nod. 

“It felt wrong to talk to him about it. Falco knew you a little bit better, but even for him…they would just start bad mouthing you just to make me feel good. But that would just make me feel worse because…I don’t get it. Hating someone just because things went wrong.”  

You crack your knuckles. 

“It’s like Ricky. I can badmouth him. He was horrible. He’s a bad person and he literally left me out there to rot just to embarrass me. He did it to Lana, to Teddy. You…I just thought you didn’t like me. I couldn’t really fault you for how you felt. And I loved you. I don't get off on talking shit about you when you were my entire world.” 

Eren smiles. 

“You had every right to badmouth me.” 

“But that’s the thing. I just didn’t want to. Even if things ended badly, you still made me really happy. We still did this entire thing together and-” 

“We’ll finish it together.” 

You smile, giving him a nod.

“You know when you’re in a relationship and you feel like you get to see a different side of that person? Because you’re so close?” Eren asks.

“Yeah.” 

“That’s how you came back to us. Feeling close again. A fresh slate, back to what drew us all to you in the first place. So many things in this industry, in this job are so fake. I mean our job is to literally pretend. You are an overwhelmingly genuine person. Even more so now. You are different. We’re all going to love you for it.” Eren states. 

For someone who’s so convinced he’s horrible with words, Eren always seems to have the perfect ones for you. 

“Will you leave if things go south?” you ask. 

“No.” 

“Then we can do this. I’m positive.” you state. 

“What makes you so sure?” 

You squeeze Eren's hand three times.

“I don’t have anything to lose, Eren.” 

--

When you get back to set the following morning, you don’t miss Connie very loudly whispering with Eren behind you. You’re positive Jean and Mikasa are eavesdropping just as much as you are, their eyes fixed a little too hard waiting for Eren’s response. 

Did you guys kiss?

No, Connie, am I crazy?  

It makes your heart sink a little bit, but you ignore it as Eren comes up at your side, giving you a bright smile. He reaches for the little glass jar to your left and gives you a wink before he calls for everyone’s attention. 

“First things first, Falco. Good job on press. That was one of the funniest fucking interviews I’ve seen in my life.” 

Falco laughs, as you turn your head to the side, pretending to do a little bow as everyone pats him on the back, and you look at Mikasa. 

“What did I miss?” 

Mikasa smiles, pulling up the video at your side. 

“Levi’s direction was to not answer any questions about you. Naturally, that was all they asked about so we all decided to coordinate our answers and basically say that we didn’t know you.” Mikasa states. 

“What?” 

“It sounds stupid, but it was so funny. Some of them started actually believing it. And Falco took it so far, he started pretending like he wasn’t even related to you.” 

Mikasa hands you the phone as you play the video, barely containing your laughter at how stupid the video is. Falco’s so confident in his words, so self-assured that it’s making Gabi burst out into laughter, and obviously messes with the interviewer so bad that they can’t even continue. 

It makes you happier than it should - their first experience being so overwhelmingly positive.

“And we all wore ribbons in our hair, which didn’t help matters anyway.” Mikasa states. 

“Levi’s a menace. He’s milking this so much.” you state. 

“That was actually my idea.” 

“Oh. I didn’t mean-” 

“I know. I just want you coming back to be a big deal. It’s not an easy thing for you to do. You’re going to get every bit of hype for it.” 

You smile, reaching forward to link arms with her, as Eren makes a booing sound. 

“Are you done? Can I talk now?” 

You shove Eren. 

“Stop being rude.” 

“I’m not being rude. You guys interrupted me.” 

“Why were you talking before us? That’s so inconsiderate of you.” Mikasa states. 

You laugh as Eren rolls his eyes, handing each of them a tiny white slip and a marker, before he takes his spot next to you and gives you a big smile. 

“Y/N is going to write a song. Multiple actually. I want you to write down ideas for her and she’s going to pull one out every morning and read it to us. Then she has to play whatever she came up with, even if it was only one line, at the end of that day.” Eren states. 

“Eren.” you start.

“No buts. You guys know the drill.” 

You watch as everyone follows his instructions, excitedly whispering to each other as their pens move, and you look over at Eren. He drops his own slip into the cup, the first one, with his name neatly looped on the outside as he gives you a smile. 

“I’m not going to be able to write anything.” you state. 

“Well, you heard the rules. You’ll have to write something.” 

“Eren.” 

He shakes his head, handing you his journal, opening it to the marked page as you flip through the sheets. 

“I did this a while back, when I was getting back into it. It helps a lot more than you think. And you can ask the person who gave you the slip for help if you really need it, but that person only.” 

You take the book for him, watching everyone give you excited smiles as the cup fills up just as fast, and flip though the pages. 

“write a song about me and sukuna” And underneath, the lyrics to a song called Daylight. 

“write a song about connie’s one year anniversary of being sober” with Levi’s distinct handwriting and the lyrics to a song called Forever Winter scribbled messily on the page. 

And the last one makes your throat bob in your chest. 

“write a song about y/n”

You read over the lyrics, pressing your fingers against the ink, as you fervently read the lyrics. 

We didn't know that we had it all But nobody warns you before the fall Don't leave, I just need a wake-up call

I'm facing the greatest The greatest loss of them all The culture is lit and I had a ball I guess I'm signing off after all

You look up at him, his attention drawn away as he shuffles the cup in his hand to mix up the slips and then holds the cup out to you. Everyone’s watching, waiting for you to pull a piece, as you set the book down, and give them all a meek nod. 

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, and an obscene amount of screaming from Connie and Sasha, as you close your eyes and pull out the first paper. You open up the little slip, floored by how random the request is. 

“Write a song about upstaging someone's wedding. Connie.” you state. 

A resounding smack fills the room - as you look over to find Jean hitting Connie. 

“I told you not to put that in.” Jean yells.

“What? It’s funny! Eren said random stuff helps with this.” Connie defends. 

“Dumbass. You just had to write something about ruining a wedding?” Jean grates. 

“Who the fuck said it was about you, you egomaniac?” Sasha asks, reaching forward to flick his forehead. 

“Who else is getting married, dumbass?” Jean responds. 

“Why are you so mad? You’re clearly projecting your own personal issues.” Connie states, as Jean and Sasha follow him out of the room, their shouts filling up the quiet air. 

Eren turns to you, a bright smile on his face. You want to smack him.

“I’ll see you tonight. Fully written song and all.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as he walks past. 

You groan, leaning your head on Mikasa’s shoulder, as you hand her the little slip. 

“Eren’s so fucking annoying sometimes. How am I supposed to write a song about this?” you complain. 

“You’ll think of something. You’re amazing.” Mikasa states. 

“I um…actually got you something. And I had something I wanted to ask.” 

You took Sukuna’s words seriously. And had every intention to make amends. 

“Really?” she asks. 

“Yeah. It’s a keychain.”

You pull it out, the little penguin charm hanging off the end, as she takes it into her hands. It makes your heart swell - the way she carefully turns it over in her fingers, the excited smile on her face. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N.” 

“It’s kind of stupid but…it’s blue? Like something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?” you state. 

Mikasa’s smile gets wider, her shoulders relaxing as she reaches forward to give you a hug. 

“Thank you. I love it.” 

“It’s just a penguin.” you murmur. 

“Maybe to someone else. But I haven’t forgotten that we watched Happy Feet at midnight the day we were supposed to film the Colossal Titan reveal and almost missed shooting that day.” she states. 

You can barely contain your elation this time. That Mikasa remembers the memory just as well as you do. You both laugh for a second before you muster the courage to ask. 

“Listen. I want to ask something but I don’t want to overstep so know that you can say no.” you state. 

“Okay.” 

“I know that we have our own rooms, but I wanted to ask if you wanted to share again? Colt and Porco always snore and…and you have your entire life to share a room with Jean but only a few more months to share one with me?” you mumble, voice nearly shaking. 

Mikasa brings her hands to your shoulders, squeezing hard as she can barely contain your smile. 

“Really? You really want to share with me?” she asks. 

“Are you crazy? You’re like the best roommate I’ve ever had.”

“Bullshit.” 

“No, really. Falco kicks, Colt smells, Porco snores, and Eren’s nothing compared to you. You're like a princess compared to them.” 

Mikasa smiles. 

“Deal. Lets go switch the signs - to their rightful places - right now.” 

“What if Jean disagrees?” you ask. 

Mikasa rolls her eyes. 

“He can choke for all I care.” Mikasa states, linking her arm in with yours as you both pound up the stairs right to the hallway. 

You take the marker, scribbling out Mikasa and Jean’s names (and Connie’s comments underneath) as you hand her the marker to do the honors. You both admire the little sign together, arms wrapped around each other, as Eren, Connie, and Jean join you two. 

“What the fuck?” Jean asks. 

You smile at him. 

“Sorry. Not your room anymore.” you respond. 

“One could argue that it was never really yours in the first place, Jean.” Mikasa states. 

“Dude, you guys are so annoying.” Jean states. 

“Did you just call your fiance, dude?” Eren asks, earning him a shove from Jean. 

Connie comes up at Mikasa’s side, taking the marker from her hands, and adding his signature comment to finish off the new sign. You look over at him and smile, tugging him into your hug with Mikasa - as you all admire the door. 

Y/N-MIKA FOREVER!!! 

And underneath, Connie’s lopsided handwriting: 

WE’RE SOOO FUCKING BACK

--

You understand why everyone was crowding you and Eren when they thought you were going to kiss in season two. It’s because you got to set early to make sure you got a good seat for Falco and Gabi’s love confession - so excited that you could barely eat your lunch.

You can’t help but watch them a few feet away from you, nervously kicking their legs on their chairs, as your notebook lays forgotten in front of you.

There’s a group of shitty lyrics on the page, so embarrassing that you shut the page as Eren approaches and takes the seat next to you and Mikasa. 

“I wasn’t going to read them, silly goose.” Eren states, lightly shoving you as you tuck the book under your ankles. 

“Good. I’d kill you before you tried.” 

“Wow. Standing up weddings has you that mad?” 

“The opposite actually.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes as he scooches closer to you, halfheartedly shaking Levi’s hand as he passes. You look over to Falco and Gabi again - the two of them increasingly nervous, Gabi more so for some reason, as you lean over and whisper into Eren's ear.  

“Ten bucks this pushes their real love confession ten years into the future.” you state.  

“What?” 

“Think about it. We had to kiss and it pushed things back basically a year and a half because we got all flustered and confused. Falco’s doing a whole bit, they’re going to be nervous about this for years.” you state. 

Eren rolls his eyes, reaching forward to elbow you in the side. 

“Bullshit.” 

“I’m right! The same thing happened with Hange and Levi.” you defends. 

“Rookie mistake, Y/N. Do I know your little brother better than you? He’s not half as pussy as you or Levi.” 

“Touché, asshole. If he likes her so bad, why hasn’t he said it yet?” you respond. 

“He’s a romantic. He’s waiting for the right time.” Eren responds. 

You look over at the two of them, splitting a box of Tic-Tacs, as Levi walks back to his cues and sets up the cameras. 

“Think about it. In a relationship, you’re either a Hange or a Levi. You’re either a Jean or a Mikasa. Falco’s obviously more like Mikasa and Levi. And Gabi’s like Jean and Hange. She has to make the move.” 

“You’ve got it all wrong. Gabi’s the Levi and Falco’s the Hange.” Eren responds, nearly offended at your statement. 

“Are you an idiot?” 

“Watch. I’ll prove it to you.” 

Eren pushes up off the floor, dragging Niccolo along with him, as they two of them approach Gabi and Falco. You’re not sure what they’re whispering - but you can tell that Falco and Gabi are flustered by the premise - and Eren and Niccolo are far too elated as Eren walks back over to you, this time with Niccolo in tow. 

“Hi Nico.” 

“Hi Y/N.” 

You look over at Eren, glaring at him, as he gives you a sheepish shrug. 

“Okay, guys. We’re going to start rolling. Falco, Gabi, you ready?” 

“Yeah.” they respond in unison, giving each other a little fist bump as they take their seats on the floor. 

“Was no one going to ask me? I’m in this scene too.” Colt complains, earning a fit of laughter from the crew. 

Everyone quiets down as the lights dim on the set, the group of you hunching forward, trying to contain your smiles as you look at each other. It’s only then that you’re reminded of how good Falco and Gabi are at acting, the painstaking agony in their voice almost making you shiver. 

“I helped make the attack on Liberio happen. I met a wounded soldier at that hospital, and without knowing it was Eren Jaeger, I sent letters from him to his allies using the mailboxes outside the zone.” Falco starts. 

Mikasa leans over to look at Eren, mouthing the words “fucking bastard” as you try to contain your laughs. Levi gives the four of you a warning glance, as you muster out an apologetic smile. 

“A lot of people died in Liberio. So….it’s my fault that Udo and Zofia died.” Falco finishes. 

“I see…” Gabi responds. 

Falco swallows hard, a pink blush on his cheeks, as you all excitedly smile. 

“Also, I love you. I didn’t want you to inherit the Armored Titan. That’s why I became a warrior candidate. So…so that we could get married…and be happy forever.” 

Gabi’s as red as a tomato. You almost feel bad for teasing the two of them so hard but it’s so endearing it makes your heart squeeze. 

“I wanted you to live a long life!” Falco shouts. 

“What are you saying?” Gabi responds. 

“I might turn into a Titan at any moment. I just wanted to get it all out there before I’m gone for good.” 

It's silent - leave for Gabi's tears before she quickly stands up. You watch as Gabi aggressively wrestles with Falco, pulling off the little black band secured around his waist, before she throws it on the ground, her chest heaving.

You sincerely hope Levi campaigns for them to win an award for this one. 

Levi calls cut, as Hange runs up to the two of them, excitedly cheering them both on as they avert their gaze from each other. Eren’s quick to jump up, grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you up to the group of them, a devious smirk on his face. 

Niccolo’s quick to join his side, the two of them crossing their arms over their chest and smirking at Falco, as he sighs. 

“Really, guys?” Falco asks.

“Really. You agreed to it, little dude.” Eren states. 

Falco rolls his eyes, nervously eyeing Gabi - who is excitedly jumping up and down in front of a very unamused Levi - before he walks over to her and plants a big kiss on her cheek. The group of you all gasp, Gabi’s skin burning red, as Falco runs away, claiming he needs to go to the bathroom. 

Niccolo and Eren are fist bumping at your side and Eren’s turns to you, irritatingly positioned with his hands on his hips, as he smiles at you. 

“Told you so.” Eren states.

“What the hell did that prove?” 

“It’s simple. I asked Falco if he wanted to play a game of Truth or Dare. Then, I asked him to kiss his favorite person on the cast on the cheek after the scene was over. Told him to run right up to you and do it since I knew for a fact you’re his favorite.” 

“Eren, you little-” 

“Falco is most definitely the Hange or the Jean of the relationship. Would even go as far to argue that he might even be the boldest.” Eren states. 

You groan, the two of you walking past Gabi and Falco near the snack table, a sizable distance away from each other and nearly sweating in the presence of each other. You and Eren shoot them a thumbs up, and Eren continues to gloat all the way back to the house. 

--

At the end of the workday, Eren’s gathered everyone in the main room in a big crowd, doing nothing to help your nerves, as you give them all a smile and loop the guitar strap over your shoulder and sit on the bench. 

“Okay. Repeat the request, Y/N.” Eren guides, the group of them all giving you warm smiles. 

Mikasa and Sasha blow you a kiss, Porco and Connie with overenthusiastic thumbs up, and Eren’s smile pushing you on. 

“Right. The request was ‘write a song about standing up a wedding’ and it was from Connie.” you state. 

You swallow hard as you shut the book and place it under the bench and start strumming on the guitar to warm up. 

“Be nice to me guys. I called this one Speak Now.” 

I am not the kind of girl Who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion But you are not the kind of boy Who should be marrying the wrong girl

There’s a resounding sound of cheers, Connie and Mikasa clapping along with the sound as everyone else follows suit. You can feel your head pounding, your voice slightly shaking as you continue on and the guitar strings uncomfortably burning your fingers. 

I sneak in and see your friends And her snotty little family all dressed in pastel And she is yelling at a bridesmaid Somewhere back inside a room Wearing a gown shaped like a pastry 

Mikasa scoffs. 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Everyone laughs, including you, as you shake your head and blow her a kiss before continuing. She makes the little gesture at you - like she’s catching the kiss in the air and tucking it into her pocket. You can feel Jean rolling his eyes at your side. 

Don't say yes, run away now I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door Don't wait, or say a single vow You need to hear me out And they said, "Speak now"

The rest of the song goes relatively smoothly, the excitement from the group of them making your heart soar, that block in your throat dissolve.

Sasha’s trapped Niccolo in her arms and has been aggressively swinging him around for the past minute, Porco and Gabi locking their fingers together to do a little swing dance, and Hange, Armin, and Eren bobbing their heads in unison at the side. 

The group of them all give you a deafening sound of applause when you finish, aggressive hugs and kisses being placed on your cheeks as they all applaud you - claiming your brilliance - as you feel your cheeks burn with excitement. 

Eren’s the last one to approach you, an almost too satisfied with himself smile on his face for the second time today, as you give him your most peachy smile. 

“Like it?” you ask.

“Loved it. You’ve still got it.” Eren states. 

“You know it.” 

“Can I give you one note?” Eren asks.

“Please.” 

“The last verse. You have to change it.” 

“What? Why?” you ask. 

“It’s a good repeat. But I’m more curious…did the guy from the song leave the altar for her?” 

You nod, giving him a smile, as you reach for the book, and gesture for him to sit next to you on the bench. You quickly jumble the lyrics onto the page, nearly misspelling half of the words, before you hand it to him for inspection. 

And you'll say, "Let's run away now" I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said, "Speak now"

"Always a sucker for a happy ending. It's perfect." Eren states.

He gives you a glimmering smile, making your heart skip a beat as his hand brushes against yours. Eren pulls out the little slip from earlier today, taping it right above the lyrics.

He gives you a last pinch of the cheek before pushing off the bench, leaving your entire body burning at his praise. 

“That’s my girl. I didn’t doubt you for even a second.”

You pause.

"Eren?"

He turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"

"Ask me who my favorite person on set is."

"What?"

"Ask me."

"Why would I-"

"Can you just do it?"

Eren turns back, hands at his side.

"Who's your favorite person on set?" Eren asks.

You walk up to his side, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss into the softness of his cheek. You hope that he understands - that you're overwhelmingly thankful for him. For the documentary, the days in Seattle, and the lifeline he always throws you. That you'll always be indebted to him.

"It's you." you whisper.

Eren's cheeks are pink.

"Is that right?" Eren asks, the tone in his voice teasing.

"Don't push your luck." you state.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Eren responds, as he gives you one last cheek pinch before leaving you alone with the piano.

Singing the song, strumming the guitar - it's almost like stretching an old muscle, flexing out the soreness. You're so excited that you reach for the cup on top of the piano to start writing the next one right away. But when your read the slip, you feel your mouth go dry.

you love someone with your entire being, and all they do is tolerate it

And at the bottom, a name scribbled in messy handwriting

Jean.

--

--

next part linked here

an: OK GUYS. WE'RE IN THE ENDGAME NOW!!! sorry its kind of boring but we die like men

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