#I would rather present the situation as this is actually very sad if you think about it but the boys are very good at not caring about it

[pinkopalina]

bbh angst is hit or miss for me... these fuckers just don't care and they're masters of zen and acceptance so I just don't find specific themes that they tend to struggle with in fandom like, realistic? it's such a different direction from canon for me that it doesn't sink in quite right lol

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 8

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: ANGST! Idk if it's actually that angsty but I made myself sad. Very very brief mentions of kind of hurting yourself but not really? I actually can't remember what I wrote so if I miss something that needs a warning pls lmk

Word Count: 16.0k (fun fact: if you've read the whole series, you've read 105 pages single space)

A/N: y'all it's literally almost 1 am but I need to start this before I get crucified by the cult following I have created with this series. GIF credit @gavidaily

"You... are considering leaving Barca?"

Xavi looked at you with one brow raised. The same girl that had been fighting for her position at the club just 6 weeks prior was now thinking of quitting her job?

"You know Miss y/l/n, we are about to lose Antonio, and with how hard we push our players, we need to retain the largest amount of medical talent possible. You know that we think extremely highly of you and your ability, which is why you were selected specifically for this role. What can we do to make the job here at Barça more compelling than that of other clubs?”

You took a deep breath. You knew this question was coming. You had worked jobs and been in negotiations before. It would be a lot more expensive for them to hire someone new than to just give in to what they predicted would be a demanded increase in pay.

You looked at your lap, sighing with the weight of the feelings you had carried for God knows how long. It had sat on your subconscious, but was now bubbling to the surface, too powerful to be stopped. “Honestly, mister, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”

There’s a funny thing about women letting go. Some people call it the severance theory. Men are heavily guided by their emotions, contrary to popular belief. In a fit of rage they are capable of anything: screaming, blows - any number of crimes of passion. So when an extreme emotion overcomes them, be it sadness or anger or fear, they can end a relationship suddenly. Once they return to a base state of logic, that’s when the crawling back and groveling begins. Because they come to realize that her absence is a stronger pain than whatever drove him away. They exist in binary states: zeroes and ones. Either hatred or love. They don’t understand gradients or in-betweens. They don’t understand that there is another person who must also decide to return to the relationship.

Women on the other hand are much more resilient. It’s why we find the most gorgeous muses with the slimiest excuses for boyfriends. A woman will fall in love not with what she sees, but rather what she hears. What she is told. All the flowery, lovely promises about a glowning future, that’s what she clings to in the midst of a gray and bleak present. The soft whispers of “I love you” and “I don’t know how I would live without you” act as bandages, plugging the gaping wounds left by his actions. But her resolve slips the longer those promises go unfulfilled. The longer those holes go unfilled. She begins to see the truth of her situation, and realizes that the road she’s skipped down is a dead end. She imagines once again. She thinks of all the possible ways that he could change and be the man she wants. She searches for glimpses of it in his words, his movement, his aura. She does the silliest, most foolish thing a woman can do: she hopes. She holds on until not even her delusions can be a comfort. She realizes that there is no way for her to be happy with this man. That’s when she finally leaves. There’s no groveling, no tears, no remorse. It’s a clean severance of dead weight. She’s empty, and it lightens her being enough for her to walk away. There is no way to save it. The bridge has been burned and she was gone forever.

The funny part was, this didn’t just apply to men. That’s the thing about emptiness: it consumes everything. Loneliness is a black hole that swallows every ray of light that it encounters. That was your life recently. No light and no joy - not even sadness. You couldn’t feel anything strongly anymore. You picked up little habits to try and feel. You heated your food to scalding temperatures just to feel the heat on your lips. Your showers were icy, the pinpricks distracting you from the desire to cry. You no longer felt strong anger or desire or really anything. The color was slowly draining from your life, grays and sepias replacing the once vibrant existence around you. The beauty around you had mangled into gnarly trees and threatening uncertainty as you foolishly waited for the sun to peak through. But it had abandoned you. The sun had taken its rays and warmth elsewhere, almost mocking you as you shivered in the dirt. So maybe it was time to crate your own light: burn down the forest and start anew.

“Nothing? La, that can’t be true Doctora.”

Your eyes shot up at the title. There was, in fact, one feeling that you still sensed: pain. You could still feel physically pain, and inflicted it on yourself often just to experience an emotion. But nothing could compare to the sharp stabs and dull aches that lived in your heart. It was hard to look at Gavi without feeling like you wanted to fall on your knees. Realizing that you were in love was not beautiful or romantic. It was torturous, like snakes and thorns taking home in your throat. Reality was the salt in the wound; the knowledge that you two were destined to fail before you had began was a pill too big to swallow, suffocating you instead.

“If I can be honest, mister, I don’t feel like I belong here at Barça. I’ve been here for six months and I still don’t feel like part of the team. Maybe it’s just not a good environment or fit for me. That’s not something that can be fixed with just a salary increase. I just can’t tell if this is the place for me.”

Xavi looked at you, bringing his elbows to rest on the table and interlocking his fingers. He wanted to adamantly refuse, but there was truth to what you said. It was evident that there was a disconnect between you and the general environment of the team. You were close to some of the younger players, but had difficulty gaining the trust and respect of the older crowd and the medical staff. Your ideas for treatment were too modern - too far removed from what everyone else was used to. Hell, you were upsetting one of his players, and that was the opposite of your job as the support staff. But he would by lying if he said you weren't effective. The plan for Dembele that you had first presented got the striker back on the field weeks earlier than any other predictions. Your diligent maintenance had prevented players from getting injured as often, keeping the ones you were closest to on a strict exercise regimen, ensuring their continuous improvement. He cared for his players and his club. And if you were the miracle cure to keeping them healthy and playing, then he was going to keep you there, even if he had to tie you to the columns of Camp Nou.

"There must be something we can do to keep you. You're very familiar with the players and the equipment, as well as the workflow, and you're very good at your work. Hell, Gavi hasn't even had a cough since you started here, and he's quite accident-prone. Please let me know what I can possibly do to keep you with us."

"I really am not being shy or sneaky. I really have no demands. When then team heads to the UK for the game against Man U, I will visit the Chelsea facility and meet the staff. If I like what I see, I'll be moving there. I'm just... not happy here anymore."

There it was. The confession you had not even made to yourself. You were at the club of your dreams, living everything that your younger self had always wanted, and you just could not be happy. This was a disappointment that was hard to describe. Everyone always talks about shooting for the moon, but no one talks about what happens when you actually make it there. You work hard and your dreams become a reality: you're on the moon! But the moon is so, so far from Earth. And when you're cold and lonely and looking down on all of the people that could be loving you, then the moon doesn't seem so worth it anymore. When you realize the moon is just a rock, then what hope do you have left?

Thinking back, you recalled all the people that you pushed away to further your career goals. You think of the family gatherings and events that you missed to study and work. You think of all the friends you have lost touch with because they were never a priority. They were never smart or driven enough to keep up with you, and so they were left in the dust. You had a few, but none you could confidently say would pick up a call from you at 2am if you needed help. Boyfriends were even worse. Since your heartbreak in college, men had fallen to the wayside. You justified it to yourself, saying that you just needed to be successful, and you would attract someone at your level. Someone who wanted an equal. But here you were: alone, depressed, and thinking of running away from what you once thought was your life's purpose.

Before Xavi could respond, a loud thud from the hallway distracted the two of you, followed by shouts that chilled your blood.

"Gavi!"

You were out of your seat in seconds. There was no force that could stop you, feet and hands moving on their own accord as you entered the hall and laid eyes on the body on the floor. There was no air in your lungs or your larynx to make a sound, let alone scream.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your hearing was shot, like you were underwater. The faces of those surrounding were panicked, and all eyes were on you, shouts and points and calls for action flying straight over your head.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your stomach was twisting itself into elaborate knots, coiling tighter while pushing the bile further up your throat. Your eyes went in and out of focus, willing the scene in front of you to disappear. You blinked hard hoping for the image to change when your eyes opened again.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

"Doctora, please look at Pablo - he collapsed suddenly and we need to make sure he doesn't have a head injury. Move!" It was Antonio's hands on your shoulders and shouts that finally got you to move from your frozen position.

Kneeling over, Gavi looked even worse. His skin was pale, and he was crumpled like an aluminum can - limbs everywhere, like his life force had just abandoned him. You had to remove Gavi from the situation and pretend he was a practice dummy at school. You had to pretend he was plastic and rubber, because that's the only way you could go through head injury protocols with a calm mind. He couldn't be Pablo, because if he was, then the thought would have to fester in your head: Pablo was hurt when you had been distant. He was hurt because you had been distant. Worst case scenario, he could disappear from your life now, all because you hadn't been able to handle the proximity like a normal person. Your thoughts were spiraling now, painting scenarios of death and disease and making it even harder for you to stop the tremble in your hands.

But you had decided that his cold heap of flesh before you wasn't Gavi. It couldn't be. It wasn't even a person. You recited the head injury checklist under your breath: consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. Placing a hand on Gavi's neck, you felt a pulse, stopping you from performing CPR. The last thing you needed to do was unnecessarily crack a rib. You shook him several times, and received no response.

"Shine a light in his eyes!" "Shake him harder!" "Should we pour water on him? Get some water!" "You're not yelling his name loudly enough!"

You ignored the shouts of the peanut gallery, repeating the list like a mantra in your head. You would have time later to be angry at the staff for their utter uselessness in the situation, but right now, you just needed to keep going. Blood was pounding in your ears as you opened one of his eyelids. Consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. It snapped back into place, and Pablo's face was now in view. Other than his pale complexion, he looked perfectly at peace. His face was identical to the night you had spent sleeping next to him - sleeping atop him. His breathing was deep, as if he had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. He was beautiful. And for the first time in days, it had allowed you to be filled with a warmth somewhat foreign to you now. Pablo was in your arms and beautiful, and you could not imagine how you were meant to go on with life seeing him every day and being denied this privilege. You didn't allow yourself to dwell on the thought. Breathing? Yes. Consciousness? No. That needed to be remedied.

"Pablo, if you can wake up now, it would be really helpful. Otherwise I'm going to have to cause you a lot of pain."

You waited for a response, but none came. You sighed deeply, moving your hands from the supple skin of his cheeks downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, exposing the expanse of his chest. You made out the sounds of taunting and whistles, but they were promptly silenced by staff who reminded the crowd that this was not an appropriate moment for jokes. Forming a fist, you placed your knuckles on the center of Pablo's chest, pushing down and rubbing. Hard. His eyes shot open within seconds, and he threw your hand off, howling in pain. His breathing was shallow and panicked, vision erratic as teammates, coaches, and other staff all yelled questions and instructions at him.

"Everybody shut up! Let me do my job."

That was the voice he needed to hear. As the yells settled to murmurs, his breathing slowed and he began to see more clearly. His eyes fully focused on you, and it soothed the ache in his chest. His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt, causing Pablo to grab onto your shoulders to ground himself.

"Pablo, can you hear me?"

You were here. You were real. He could still hold you and feel you. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. The nausea that he had felt before he blacked out still lingered, and the last thing he wanted to do was projectile vomit on you. He flinched slightly at the feeling of your hand returning to his face, but settled quickly, listening hard to your instructions. There was nothing easier than focusing on the sound of your voice.

"Look at me." You said, shining a light in Gavi's eyes, checking for any hemorrhaging or internal bleeding. What a silly request, he thought to himself, squinting under the brightness. How could he look anywhere else when you were in the room? How could he ever tear his eyes from you? How could he waste a single second of you before him, especially with the prospect of you leaving at the end of the month looming?

"No bleeding. Are you experiencing any double vision?"

A headshake no. You instructed someone behind you to grab a bottle of water, and then turned back to Pablo.

"Good. What is your name?"

Gavi swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Pablo Gavi."

"Good. And who am I?"

"Ah don't worry, Doctora. Even with amnesia, I could never forget you." There was that stabbing feeling in your chest again. That feeling that accompanied Pablo's sweet words and kind eyes. The cold shard of reality that reminded you that he would fade away into an Instagram mutual in a matter of months.

"Alright, Gavi. No internal bleeding and no memory loss. We need to go through more of the concussion protocols and make sure you're okay, but we can do this in my office. Are you okay to stand?"

After a curt nod, you helped Pablo stand, and began walking with him towards your office. You informed Xavi of the next steps, and he told you to do whatever necessary to make sure his 'golden angry bird' was okay. But of course, you could never know a day of peace, as each one must be filled with the noise pollution that was Ferran's voice.

"If the door isn't open, just know that Pablito isn't moaning in pain." A round of snickers was heard from both players and staff. But before they had time to add on to the nasty comment, you swiveled around to face the group. You were seething with anger, and one very important realization came to the center of your mind.

You had nothing left to lose.

It was Pablo Torre who was closest to you, and he was the person that received the start of your wrath.

"What the hell are you laughing at? The fact that your teammate could have serious head trauma? Or at the fact that, with Gavi potentially out of commission, they might take you off the bench long enough for you to remember what grass feels like?"

He was silent instantly, eyes wide. He had never received words this harsh from anyone at the club. Or anyone not on Twitter. You turned to two more assistant physios, Luca and Gabriel, who stood next to him, still muttering to one another in hushed tones.

"And you two! Do you want to know why everyone has to rush and get me whenever someone hits their head? Because out of everyone here, I'm the only one that knows proper concussion protocols and how to identify trauma. I have more medical knowledge in my fingernail than in both of your heads combined. I have to take him to my office because you two are incompetent at your jobs! And instead of doing anything useful, this is how you occupy your time: slacking, cigarette breaks, speculating who I'm sleeping with, and doing absolutely jack shit when a player gets injured. So keep giggling like school girls. I can't wait to see you both giggling on the street corner while begging for spare change."

You held Gavi harshly, storming off to your office. Your speed and the bounce was making him nauseous, but he knew better than to speak in this moment. His chest had swelled with pride. He was patiently waiting for the day that you would put the guys in their place. None of them were bad people - it had just been a while since most of them interacted with a woman they didn't want to sleep with. Gavi loved that you were capable of defending yourself, but could not ignore the part of him that wanted to be the one to defend you.

Call it a toxic trait if you want, but Pablo had always taken pride in his ability to intimidate. He had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was done growing at a sweet 5'7, despite his desire to break at least 5'9 (because his friend Hanna at La Masia told him that was the shortest a girl would go for. Looking back, taking this information from a 5'10 female footballer was probably not the best idea he's ever had). It had taken a while, but after weeks of daily affirmations in the mirror about how short Messi was, he held his chin higher. Once he started receiving praise from fellow players, coaches, and media, Pablo gained more confidence in the fact that he could be part of the next generation of great Barcelona football. This allowed him to go up against any player with no worries or fear, winning headers against people with a foot of height on him. Pablo began building his upper body in the gym as well, compensating with strength. A broad and reckless teenager, there was almost no one he wasn't ready to take on.

He sensed that same quality in you as well: a desire to prove yourself, no matter the cost. But he didn't want you to. He never wanted to see you scowl or have to hear you yell (despite it being semi-hot). Pablo wanted to be your knight, whose sole purpose in life was making sure that you never experienced feelings but joy and pleasure. He wanted others to go through him before daring to speak to you. Because how could every person just have access to the beauty that is you? To the radiant soul and shimmering aura that fills the room? How could he be content with you shouldering the burdens of living in this world? Even if he never got to have you romantically, Pablo wanted to shield you from every harm in the world. And not a day went by when he didn't feel it.

This was one of those moments. He wished he was able to verbally berate Ferran for the garbage he spewed on a regular basis, but he could do nothing except let himself be dragged by you through the halls of the sports center until they reached your office, where he was promptly flung towards the exam table. He watched as you brought him your small office trash can, setting it beside the bed. He was brought back to your first month at Barca, when he had challenged you and been proven wrong. There was a confidence in yourself and your abilities that had dissipated from then to now. Pablo smiled stupidly as he remembered the excruciating pain and discomfort of trying not to throw up in front of the pretty physio. If only he had known then that it was nothing compared to the pain of holding back these feelings.

"Lay down on the bed. Look up at the ceiling. If you need to vomit, do it in there." You instructed curtly before moving to sit at your computer. Short nails clicked harshly against the raised keyboard, keys slamming down rapidly, sound reverberating around the room. Gavi wanted so desperately to flip over, lay on his stomach and stare at you. Just to see the curves of your face and the way your eyes reflected the light. But he looked up at the ceiling like you asked, more worried about pushing you further away than watching you type. He took several deep breaths. This didn’t feel like the last time he was concussed. Last time, he had felt his brain rattle against his skull, waves of nausea starting immediately. His head ad throbbed, spots forming on his vision. His jaw was clenched, and he could’ve sworn there was a crack down the center of his cranium, blood oozing out of it onto the practice pitch.

He remembered that day so vividly despite the head trauma. He had been livid, Ferran dragging him to a new and inexperienced physio. Gavi had interpreted it as sabotage to that Ferran could get the left wing back. And then he saw you. Angry that he was he wasn’t receiving treatment by the best, he couldn’t say he was upset to look at you. You were a stunning kind of beauty, young and lively and clad in cool gray scrubs. But you were three years older than him, wildly advanced and talented, and he couldn’t swallow his pride - especially not with this nausea. He could not swallow the fact that you looked so damn familiar. He had seen you somewhere before: those eyes had looked at him with that same distress and concern. But he could not place it for the life of him.

Pablo thought back to how sweet you had been to him that day. How you had encouraged him to take pride in himself and be confident in the fact that he deserved all the success he had seen. He was so overwhelmed that day. His brain was absolute porridge, and he was doing his best for it not to pour out of his ears, all while his cheeks burned under your gaze. He was too preoccupied by his desire to muster one ounce of hatred to replace the overwhelming admiration in his brain that he could not determine where the hell he had seen you before.

And now here he was, once again staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, and the thought came to him again: why did you look familiar? Despite having known you for half a year now, the feeling that there was history had not left him. It wasn't that you had a common face. There was something about the way you looked at him, with a knowing and sadness, that touched a part of his soul. Like you knew things he had never even admitted to himself. While he thought that was just your way of being, he was coming to realize that look was one reserved specifically for Pablo. Now he wasn't nauseous, and focused on the rhythmic sounds of keys being slammed. He poised himself to ask a question, but not the one gnawing at his brain.

"What're you typing so excitedly? Hopefully not your resignation."

You looked up in time to watch Pablo's chest heave with the breathy (and very fake) laugh that he forced out. Your fingers rested against the keyboard, pausing your aggressive typing. How did Gavi know about your plans to leave? Had he been listening at the door? How long had he been standing there before-

"Is that why you fainted in the hallway? Because I'm leaving the club?"

"So you've already decided that you're leaving? You aren't even going to wait until you see whatever shithole you've been offered a spot at?"

There was an emotion that made Gavi's voice wobble, and you couldn't pin it exactly, but it sounded akin to betrayal. You finished the last sentence of your email, the swooshing sound indicating the message had been sent. Pablo bit his lip and stared hard at the fluorescent light. He didn't want you to see the distress in his face, but he couldn't help it. He hated how the dynamic between the two of you had been so warm, so close to the spark he desperately sought, just to go back to how icy your interactions began.

You pulled up a stool to sit next to him, and grabbed a pair of gloves as you approached. You noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and turned away to put your gloves on. The deep sadness in his eyes, the way his body tensed, the voice like a hurt child - was this all because of you?

"I was doing what I should've done my first week working here: I sent an email to HR about Ferran's nasty comments. Barca can't have a sexual harassment scandal right about now, especially not during the transfer window. And if they fire me, then they..." Your voice trailed off, throat closing up. It was still hard for you to process the possibility.

"If they fire me, then that's one less decision that I have to make."

You ran a gloved hand across his crown, feeling for any bumps or lacerations because of his fall. You felt worse the longer you continued the exam, the feeling that this was your fault sinking in. You had pushed Pablo away wordlessly after brining him in so close. But the majority of your brain screamed back at you how selfish it would be to drag Pablo into your black hole, ruining his career so that he could run after a girl who didn't even feel. If the sun in its greatness could not warm you, then how could ask this of Pablo?

"Now we need to talk about your fall in the hallway. It's quite obvious that you fainted but-"

"Were ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to freeze me out until you left the country?"

Gavi propped himself up on his elbows, eyes meeting you directly. You didn't know what to say. You couldn't tell him how you felt, especially not now. Not right before you disappeared.

"Have you ever fainted like that before? What have you eaten to day?" You asked, moving to throw away your gloves. "If you're having frequent spells of losing consciousness, then we need to have your blood iron tes-"

"Are you being serious right now, y/n? You're on the verge of quitting your dream job, packing up and leaving the country, and isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you, and you're asking about my blood iron? No."

Pablo stood, getting off the table faster than someone with a head injury should. He walked towards you, anger evident.

"No. You don't get to change the subject and talk about my iron. Or sit and try and diagnose me with anything. You know that I'm perfectly healthy. Want to know why I fainted? I'll tell you, Doctora."

Gavi was right in front of your face now, heavy breath fanning against your skin. You swallowed thickly, breathing just as heavy as you met his blazing stare. For the first time in weeks, your eyes started to moisten. Why was this scolding from Pablo going to bring you to tears?

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

Pablo was now cupping your face, holding it like it was the only thing that would tether him to the earth. He rested his head against yours, and suddenly it was too much. All the feelings that had escaped you for so long were coming back all at once, stacking on top of each other and smothering you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole to escape Gavi's piercing eyes looking straight through you.

"But you have to know that I don't just see you as a friend, Doctora. You have to know, even if you don't feel the same way, that I am -"

"We met before I got my job here. That's why you recognize me."

Gavi let go of your face, taking a step back. He looked at you with confusion and hurt. You both knew what he was about to say, and he couldn't understand why you wouldn't just let him get it off his chest. And as selfish as it was, you just couldn't take it. Pablo deserved better - someone that would lift him up, not hold him back. And if he said it, if it was out in the open, then you would never be able to put his needs first.

"The week of my interview, I went to pick up Angelika from the club. Angel went to get her from the VIP section and he left me in charge of keeping an eye on you."

"You... were watching me while I was drunk?" Pablo's brain was processing a thousand things at once. You had met him and remembered him? What had he said while drunk to make you hide that fact from him?

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

There were so many ways to answer this question that you didn't know where to begin. How could you explain to Gavi that you had been so captured by his beauty that night that it had thrown you off your axis, making you wonder if you had died and this was the angel sent to guide you to the pearly gates? How could you describe the intense pull Pablo had over you, tugging at your soul, urging you to stay with him? How were you to say the way your heart broke on his behalf, wanting to hold him in your arms and protect him from everything that made him feel less than the most special person alive? All you had wanted was to kiss him, to pull him in, to never let him go. But none of the words materialized. Because to you, the cruelest thing you could do to Pablo was keep pulling him into you. He was pure light, and you couldn't bear the burden of being the one to extinguish it.

"It was an insignificant moment in a club. Nothing worth mentioning. I didn't even remember until Pedri reminded me when I started."

There it was. The sentence that made Gavi crack. You watched the hurt seep into his features, and a heavy air filled the room. Brows coming together, he looked at you expectantly, waiting, praying, that you would take it back.

"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"

Eyes locked, there was nothing you could say that would erase this moment. You swallowed the lump in your throat, playing with your fingers. You spun the ring you wore around your finger, trying to occupy your mind with anything other than the thought that you were the human embodiment of garbage.

The silence remained, growing thicker with each passing second. It enveloped the both of you, tendrils wrapping around and ripping the two of you apart, fraying whatever string of fate had brought you together.

"You think it was just a coincidence, meeting me in the club weeks before we become coworkers? Friends? Something... beyond that...and you think that coincidence was so forgettable that it wasn't even worth mentioning?"

There it was. The cold front that you put up, the one that pushed everyone away, no matter how hot their love for you burned. You were the ice princess, destined to go through life cold and untouchable and alone.

"Some people you just meet, Pablo. It doesn't mean they're meant to be together. I needed to get my friend out of the club and I just ran into Angel. He left me in charge of you so that you wouldn't do anything stupid or childish while drunk. I was in a club babysitting an 18 year old kid who was pouring his heart out to me while wasted. I didn't say anything to save you from the embarrassment."

That was the straw that broke Gavi's heart. He stormed towards the door, unable to look at you any longer. Had he really been lead on; allowed to believe that you were his friend, or at the least respected him, when this entire time you just saw him as a little kid. His last line to you was spoken so softly you almost didn't hear it over the deafening slam of the door.

"They're going to love you in England."

~

"Your English is very good for someone educated in Spain."

You looked up at Steve, flashing a practiced professional smile that showed no indication of offense at the objectively offensive statement.

"Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I did complete my baccalaureate degree in the United States, but I'm glad the last two years in Barcelona have not damaged my language."

Now it was his turn to laugh uncomfortably as he lead you through the garish blue halls of Stamford bridge. The entire plane ride you had told yourself that this could be the fresh start you needed. This could be the opportunity to turn your life around, and so you should approach it with fresh eyes and an open mind. But the walls were hurting your eyes, the blue and white making you think of Martin in his kit. You were lead into the trophy room, which was a lot smaller than you were used to.

"Here you can see some of the club's shining moments. We have had an... interesting season this year, but you know that performance fluctuates between seasons. We hope to be back on top again very soon, especially with an entirely new medical team coming on board."

You scanned the shelves and glass cases, admiring the look of trophies you were familiar with, and ones you had never seen before.

"An entire new medical staff? No one is staying on?" You asked, confused. What kind of club replaced everyone all at the same time? Usually at least one person remained to pass the torch, to maintain familiarity. It set warning bells off in your head.

“Ah, well, many of our staff members were quite loyal to Dr. Henry, you know he was here for 17 years after all. So they all followed him out. But we are excited to usher in a new wave of sparkling young medical talent!”

You swallowed hard, still feeling from the information. You still hadn’t finished your degree, and yet you were being offered a head position at what was supposed to be a huge and well-respected club. You couldn’t help but think of the blaugrana.

Something flitted in your chest, a feeling that surrounded you whenever you walked into the camp. The feeling of family, like you were home. The coldness of Steve’s answer didn’t spark anything close to that feeling. Not every workplace needed to be a part of your heart, a new family. These days. You had no idea what your family was supposed to be, or if you had one at all. Your brain begged you to ask what the environment was like, how close the staff was, what created such a high level of loyalty that they would all follow this man wherever he went, abandoning club and home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, asking instead,

“Do you only display the most recent. Champions League trophy?”

More laughter from Steve, but of the fakest nature. “Yes we have one on this side, one on the other. They’re … ehem, all of our UCL trophies are displayed here.” Your cheeks warmed with subtle embarrassment. You knew nothing about this room or this club, and if you were honest with yourself, you had no desire to. You missed Barca. But you had to give this club its chance – an honest shot to be your new home.

The two of you continued through the halls as Steve showed you all the medical equipment and facilities that would be at your disposal should you accept. At the end, he led you to the players’ lounge, offering you a seat. The blue had given you a baby migraine, and you were incredibly grateful for the ability to sit and rest. You refused the gracious offers for food, sipping on a bottle of water to dull the throbbing against your skull. You searched the room for something, something familiar – a face, a number, to make you feel like everything was going to work out in the end. But it never appeared, the bright colors and foreign faces more of a discomfort than anything else.

"Make yourself comfortable, Doctor. Let me get some of the players that you'll be working with, and you can hear from them what the environment is like."

You nodded sweetly, sitting up straight with ankles crossed in the way Princess Diaries taught you to. As the footsteps faded slowly into the distance, a sigh passed between your lips. What were you doing? Despite the lecture given to yourself on the uncomfortable plane ride over (Chelsea would only pay for economy), it had all gone out the window. Your gut was in knots, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing something wrong.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the screen lit up in your hand to read "One Football: FC Barcelona vs Manchester United - Starting lineup now available." The notification had been pressed before you registered what was going on. Your eyes scanned the list just to land on one name. Your mind went back to the last conversation the two of you shared. The most venomous words had slipped past your lips, and you had finally done it: you pushed the last person who cared for you away. The sentiment was harsh. How could anyone ever recover a relationship after shattering it so completely? Despite how much much it hurt to grip the broken shards so tightly, you held on nonetheless, packing Gavi's hoodie in your bag, the '6' embroidered into the pocket cutting open a gaping wound in your heart, and yet you enjoyed its presence there.

"Doctora, I'm pleased to introduce Kepa and Christian. They have been with the club for a while, and they would be happy to answer all your questions."

~

"A scoreless first half here at Old Trafford as both Barcelona and Man U return to the locker rooms for half time. As we saw Pedri went down in those final minutes of the half, and we've received a report that he is out for the rest of the match. His injury status is unknown, but if the magician is out of commission, this could be a very easy steal for United."

The sounds of fists slamming against lockers was loud enough to be heard all the way home in Spain. Pedri Potter, the star, the leader of Barca's new era, was now in icing his right hamstring in some medical examination room, while the rest of the team scrambled to figure out a scenario in which they would win without him in a mere 15 minutes. Gavi bounced his leg anxiously, eager to see his friend and make sure he was okay.

"Listen up boys. We can win this game without Pedri. The score is now 1-0 to Man U, and all we need to do it score once to tie. Then we are back home, our turf and our fans. Robert, Rapha, your goal is to put the ball in the net. I don't care what you have to do. The middle, you need to get the ball in a good position for these two. That means Gavi, you'll be- Gavi pay attention!"

Head snapping up, Pablo's eyes met Xavi's directly. He knew he should be paying attention - this was the first of several games that needed to be won until they reached a trophy. He needed to be on his A-game, and yet, his mind was drifting. He wished it was just concern over Pedri capturing his attention. But in the corners of his mind, your voice lingered. "Babysitting... insignificant... embarrassment." All words you had used when talking about him as he was on the verge of pouring his entire soul out onto the linoleum for you. He didn't understand the anger that flowed through him. It was a sense of ... incompleteness. If you had let him finish, let him say the words that he didn't fully understand, then he would have been okay. He would have watched as you kicked his beating heart against the wall, telling him that you could never feel that way towards him. He would have been okay: relieved. But you had left him dangling off the edge of a cliff, with no relief in being pulled to safety nor mercy in being allowed to fall.

Xavi gave his instructions to the midfield and the defensive line, going over the weak points that needed to be addressed.

"Pedri is most likely out for the next eight weeks, missing both the next match and the SuperCopa, so this is your opportunity to adjust to playing in high-stress situations without him."

Gavi's head raised fully at this. Eight weeks? It has been forever since someone was out for that long. Since the beginning of the season... since you had joined the team. A pinch in Pablo's chest. His brain repeated over and over that the best thing to do was let you go. To let you be your own person, grow and be independent, saving himself the heartache because the one girl he wanted was the one he couldn't have. Yet his heart held on with an iron grip. It refused to release you, reminding him of every sweet moment shared in cars and offices and bedrooms. It was quick to forget the pain of being perceived as a child. Pablo's heart begged him to wait for you, because it was incapable of letting go of a devotion so intense. His heart ached for you, longing for the day he be deemed worthy enough to love you wholly and completely.

"Eight weeks is insane - we have never gone that long with our midfield handicapped. Is there no way to speed up recovery? Who gave the estimate?" Robert asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Luca is the only one from the medical staff who is here right now. He is the one who made the determination. Of course, the rest of the staff will be free to reevaluate when we return home. But Luca will be the one continuing with the course of treatment, and so we will go with his estimate."

"What? Where is y/n?" The question came from Alejandro, followed by hushed agreement. Even if you were not the first point of contact for all the players, you were a team staple, becoming as familiar to them as the crest embroidered on their uniforms. The older players had watched as you performed medical miracles on their teammates that rivaled what Jesus did for the blind, allowing the team to prosper all season. 15 points at the top of the table, and at least half had your name on them. The youngers had felt your impact directly, following your instructions like gospel. They knew how much care you showed to every single one of them, from the starters to the bench warmers. Your hands had put them back together. A touch of you lingered in all the success achieved, and your absence felt closer to abandonment than anything else.

"You should ask Pablito - he would be the first one to notice that his girlfriend wasn't on the flight." Ferran's voice: the closest human equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. After everything that had taken place, it was a wonder he still had the energy to be an ass.

"Maybe you should ask Ferran about his HR investigation, which is a main reason that she's touring the Chelsea facility fight now. Hey, maybe you'll see her this summer when you get sold there. They're always looking for people to keep the bench warm while the important players are on the field." Gavi spoke calmly and evenly, like he was stating pure fact. He stood, leaving the room to avoid the round of questioning that was about to occur regarding HR and the doctora's new home.

The click of Pablo's cleats echoed loudly in the hallway a she approached the medical room, where Luca was fumbling with bandage and his laptop, while Pedri waited on the exam table like a fish at the market. His head turned at the sound of Gavi's approach, and he gave a weak smile to the younger player.

"I finally pushed it too far. Great timing, eh Hermano? It's only a Champion's League, a SuperCopa, and a potential classico that I'll miss. Nothing significant."

Gavi could do nothing but let out a slight laugh, cupping Pedri on the back of the neck. His heart hurt for his friend. This is what every player dreamed of: playing for cups, winning with the team of their dreams. And Pedri was going to miss all of it because they had relied on him to heavily, asked him to bridge too many gaps.

"Please don't say that word to me ever again. Luca, how's it looking? Eight weeks seems a little excessive for a sprain." Gavi knew that Luca was doing something wrong. Or stupid. Or, the most likely option, both. When Ansu had sprained his hamstring, he was back on the field in 28 days under your care. Alejandro had a minor tear in his meniscus, and yet still he was faster than the speed of sound 6 weeks later. Now there was no you. No melodic voice explaining muscle strain and stride length and tissue recovery. Just a stupid, lanky Spaniard in free Barca merch putting "leg hurts" into Web MD and seeing what he can diagnose with this time.

"Why don't you let the medical professionals do their job, Gavi, and you go back to putting your head in front of peoples' feet."

Looking to quickly diffuse the situation, Pedri turned to his friend, wanting to stop looking at the man who might end his football career with a wrong move and an 'oops'.

"I'll just let y/n look at it when I get back home. She'll fix me up in no time. That is, if you give me one of your spots on her schedule."

"Yeah, that's if she even comes back to work."

Pedri looked at the younger boy with confusion. It had been several weeks since he had seen Gavi with his favorite physio. Initially, he thought the crush had faded - that Pablo had found another pretty thing to maintain his interest, and you had fallen to the wayside with the other failed football loves. But Pablo was so clearly unhappy. He was more irritable, spending more and more time on his phone while avoiding the group all together. He sat silently in Pedri's passenger seat, screen illuminating his face but remaining silent.

[Doctora]: Good morning Pablo - running late. Will bring you an apology smoothie

[Doctora]: im going to need you to send me a video of you tying your shoes as proof

[Doctora]: i'll tell you when i see u tomorrow

Gavi had spent two weeks going back over every message you had ever sent him. He watched the way your tone changed from proper and professional to something lighter, more friendly and familiar. Over and over your voice played in his head.

"Pablo."

Pride be damned. He missed you. As he stood behind his teammates, whispers about the staff still whirling around the tunnel, it dawned on him. Barca, the club of his dreams, the fantasy of his childhood, would never - could never - be complete again if you left.

"And we're back in Old Trafford for the second half of this UCL match between the Historic FC Barcelona, and the red devils of Manchester United."

~

"That's incredible that you went to school there! I'm a ride or die for their basketball team, so you already have my respect."

You flashed Christian a smile - a real one, the first genuine display of joy you've been able to muster in a while. Both of the players had shown a genuine interest in getting to know you, trying to sell you on the idea of joining the club. Kepa had gushed over how much he loved living in London, citing his experiences as a fellow Spaniard.

"You're around so many Spanish speakers at the club, you hardly miss home."

Christian, the more injury-prone of the two, talked about his experiences with the medical team, and the close relationships he had built there. All of the medical team had become family to him in some way or the other. It calmed your previous anxieties. Maybe it was just a fear of change keeping you tethered to Barca, and all you needed was time to adjust.

"I think you'd get along really well with the other players, of course, the ones that opt-in to working with you."

This statement from Christian caught the attention of both you and Steve, who rushed over before you could ask for clarification. Opt-in? How could you opt-in to medical treatment?

"Miss, I think that Kepa and Christian have both done a wonderful job of providing just a small taste of what it means to be part of the Chelsea family. We don't want to keep them from afternoon training."

You said your thanks and goodbyes, but before they left Kepa turned to you, as if suddenly struck with a lightening bolt of realization.

"You're the Barca physio that works with Gavi, right?" He asked in Spanish. "He mentioned a girl physio during international training."

Another knot in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. "Yeah that would be me."

Kepa's face shifted, brows downturned and lips pursed. "Let me give you my contact information, in case you have any more questions." This line was in English, spoken more in Steve's direction than in yours. He approached, taking the phone from your hands and switching back to Spanish.

"Don't leave Barca. Gavi talked about you a lot during the break. They respect and value you a lot there - don't throw that away." He handed the phone back to you as you tried to contain your expression, suppressing the shock you felt from displaying itself on your features. What could Pablo have said that would make this man go out of his way to prevent you from joining this club? What had been so compelling that Kepa worked against his own best interest?

It was now just you and Steve in the room, and you turned to him, his skin flushed, to ask about Christian's little slip.

"There was something mentioned about players opting out of treatment?"

"Ah, just a small clause in your contract. Just says that players can choose not to be treated by club medical staff and find their own if they feel uncomfortable. It's all there in the paperwork somewhere. You can call my assistant if you read over it again and have more questions. Now, I know that you need to go soon, but I wouldn't be able to let you go without meeting one of our new signings. Someone else who knows what it's like to decide to make the shift from La Liga here to the old PL. Come with me."

You rose from your seat, migraine returning from the stress onset. What was being kept from you? Obviously you hadn't read your employment offer close enough. You walked through the passages somewhat mindlessly, following Steve with your body as your mind drifted elsewhere. What was being hidden from you?

"Joao, nice to see you again! This is Doctor y/l/n, and we're trying to convince her to make the same switch from Spain to London."

All of your medical education had told you that the masticator and other jaw muscles were voluntary; that they could be controlled and moved when you wanted. Not today. Your jaw went slack, and it refused to shut as you stared at the Portuguese beauty before you. There was no way. How had you missed the news of his move. How unprofessional was it to say 'pinch me' during what was essentially an interview.

"Nice to meet you, Doctora. I'm quite relieved that I don't have to speak in English - apparently my accent is not as good as I thought."

Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You had yet to say anything or even shut your mouth. Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You laughed lightly at his statement, muscles moving independently of the pudding that was your brain currently. Joao Felix was shaking your hand.

"I'm sorry, it's so nice to meet you, I'm just a little overwhelmed. You're one of my favorite players in football right now. I've been following you since your debut. Oh my God."

It was Joao's turn to laugh, a light and glorious sound. You had made him laugh. You wished someone was recording so you could send the video to Angeliika. And your mom. They would both go into cardiac arrest. His skin turned slightly pink as he scratched the back of his head, flattered by the admiration of someone so accomplished (and, as he would later reflect, gorgeous). Despite not understanding a lick of Spanish, Steve knew he had made a winning move by introducing you to Joao. The two of you leaned into each other as you spoke, and he motioned towards the field, inviting you to a stroll around the turf to chat.

All of your pride and prejudice fantasies were being realized in this moment. You were taking a polite stroll around the grounds with a man that you had salivated over while watching football on TV. A golden boy and future champion. He was something incredible. Witty and charismatic and easy to talk to. Everyone says not to meet your heroes, and yet here you were, floating several inches above the ground beside Joao.

"So, what club are you moving from? Can't be something in Madrid - I would remember you."

Lord, this was too much. You gave a silent thanks to the heavens, all the good karma you had accumulated throughout your life manifesting on this day.

"Oh no, not a Madrid club. Just a small Catalan club called Barca. Heard of it?" You teased as Joao stopped in his tracks. It was his turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed.

"You're the Barca girl physio? I have heard of you! One of the physios at Atleti is your classmate. He said you're crazy smart."

How were you staying alive when all the blood in your body was in your face? How had so many people in the football space heard your name with you blissfully unaware. The smile on your face was not just due to the compliment. Maybe there were people ready to be there for you, and you just needed to reach arm out to them.

The conversation came to a close as you watched other groups come onto the field, preparations being made for upcoming matches. You thanked Joao for his time, once again involuntarily gushing about how surreal this experience was.

"Ah, there's really no need. The pleasure was all mine. I hope that I'll get to see more of you, Doctora, no matter what decision you end up making." Stretching his arm out, pulling you in for a hug. He enveloped you, arms wrapped tightly around your frame in a way that was borderline inappropriate for a goodbye. He smelled heavenly, the warmth radiating from his body akin to a fireplace. This was the stuff of dreams and imagination.

And yet, Joao was not the name on your mind. He way he smelled was beautiful and yet unfamiliar. Your thoughts traveled back to the last hug like this you had shared with someone. To the scent of One Million and powdery deodorant, mixed with something that couldn't be bottled. To the feeling of strong arms sitting lower on your waist. To brown hair and brown eyes and a brown leather couch. To white shirts and white bedsheets. To the soft voice and smooth voice that called for you.

"Doctora."

Logic be damned. You missed Pablo. And then the empty expanse of your soul filled with a feeling of dread. You had made a mistake. So many mistakes. Pushing away Pablo, lying to your friends about how much you needed them. Considering another job. Nothing in the the blue and white had given you even 1% of the feelings you experienced walking into Camp Nou every day. But you would never be able to go back if Gavi was angry with you. Ferran was cattle waiting to be sold. Gavi was a contender this year's golden boy, a powerhouse on the field, a bright star for both club and country. You reached into your bag, staring at his name in your phone. But your fingers shook too violently to press the call button. You remembered the hurt on his features, the way he couldn't even look at you as he passed in the halls. You weren't ready to see [Call Declined] appear on your screen. Instead you rested your phone on your lap, reaching in to retrieve your Chelsea contract.

Obviously, your eagerness to run away from your current life had blurred your vision. On page 22 of 31, there is was in what appeared to be a smaller font than the rest of the agreement.

"Under FIFA and British Football regulation, players may refuse treatment from club-appointed medical staff for any reason, including but not limited to feelings of fear, discomfort, lack of safety, and lack of confidence. Providers will be compensated on a fee-for-service basis, where compensation is scaled based on the number of players consistently treated. Should more than 40% of players request alternative treatment, the club may terminate the contract with the provider before the term of the contract has elapsed."

Your eyes widened, brows knitted together in confusion and borderline disgust. Women in medicine were already at a disadvantage, and that increased tenfold for women in sports medicine. Should the players feel uncomfortable with you because of your sex or age, you could spontaneously be out of a job after picking up and moving your whole life?!

Before you could pick up the phone and tell Steve that he would need to find someone else to fill this cursed position, a buzzing came from your bag. Who was calling your work phone?

"Hello?"

"Good evening Doctora y/l/n, hope that your visit at Chelsea went well." Andreas was Xavi's secretary, and he was the closest thing you would ever get to the cast of The Devil Wears Prada. He was rather cold in the way that he spoke, but never rude. Well dressed and straight to the point - commanding of respect.

"Went very well, Andreas. I got to meet-"

"Mister Xavi has asked for your presence on the flight back to Barcelona to discuss your future with the club. It is of the utmost importance that this meeting occur as soon as possible. So you need to be in Heathrow by tonight at 11pm for check in with the rest of the team."

"But my flight back to Barcelona is tomorrow and I-"

"You'll be fully reimbursed for the cost of changing your travel. We are leaving from Terminal 2. Have a wonderful evening."

Just like that, you were wondering how fast you could pack everything and leave in the next 6 hours when your personal phone buzzed in your lap.

[Pablo]: I know u said u need space but

[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u

[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?

Heart racing, you typed back as fast as you could with trembling fingers, telling him that you would be so happy to meet him, giving him the address of a café near your hotel. You didn't want him to see what your salary could actually afford (since Chelsea didn't cover your travel accommodations). You let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to see you. He wanted to speak with you. He wasn't completely lost.

~

Packing had been fast - you had only brought the essentials to London to avoid paying a bag fee on the budget airline you had traveled. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you let out a deep sigh. What were you even going to say to Pablo? Begging for forgiveness seemed the most logical choice. You practiced your apology in the mirror, and yet froze every time. How would you respond when he asked you why? Why it had been so easy for you to push him away, to strike him down, to make him feel so utterly unimportant to you and your life? You didn't know how you would respond.

Feelings of the heart are often the easiest to articulate. They're not like emotions. Emotions are straight forward: happiness, anger, sadness, jealousy. Things that were caused by one identifiable source, and could be expressed easily with words and actions. But the matters that went beyond feeling, those were the most difficult to understand, let alone communicate. Despite his form, it wasn't lust that drew you into Pablo. Those thoughts had made you breathe heavy and push your thighs together. The glimpses of Pablo's bare form were painted on the edge of your mind, soft skin and hard muscle, inviting you in for a touch, a taste. It was an exciting idea, but not the one that riled you up the most.

No, it was something different. It was a scene that had plagued your mind for weeks upon end, always causing you to wake in a cold sweat with a tightness in your chest, breaths labored. You pictured yourself laying on Pablo's bare chest, drawing circles on his skin as his heart beat rhythmically for you to listen to. As you drifted off, he would place a kiss on the top of your head, running a soothing hand down your spine. It wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him, as he whispered softly.

"Mine."

It was a magnetic pull that Pablo had, a force of nature that you were unable to escape. It could be described as nothing other than desire, like you would make the world stop spinning until the two of you were united. There was a higher force tying you to Pablo, and etched in your bones was a knowledge that you would never be able to leave him. But the sentiments died on your tongue before they could ever take to the air, never to fall on the ears of a certain Spaniard.

As your heels clicked against the city pavement, a sense of calm washed over you. He had reached out to you. There was an olive branch being extended. He was ready to hear what you had to say. Yet upon entering the small space, a different voice called out your name.

"Pedri?"

It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice. You had built up the confidence to come here solely based on the premise that Gavi wanted to see you. Your ego had deflated, back to feeling like utter garbage for the way you had treated the person who, in reality, was your closest friend. Before the self pity could fully sink its claws in, you noticed the full-leg brace that Pedri was sporting.

"I'm sorry that I used Pablo's phone to text you - didn't have your personal number, and it would be a little... salt-in-the-wound-ish to ask him for it right now. Especially since you asked him not to speak to you."

"I never said that!" You exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than intended, causing a couple people to glance in your direction. Pedri escorted you to a table in the corner, offering to go and get you a coffee to fight the chill of a London January.

"No please. It's completely fine. You shouldn't be standing with a torn muscle anyways."

Pedri looked at you inquisitively. He had not seen you in a while, especially with you and Gavi not on speaking terms. He had missed the quips and sarcastic comments he was able to catch during training. He missed the feeling of safety whenever you cared for himself or others on the field, as he knew that you were to be trusted with their bodies. He missed the fire you sparked in Pablo, leading to unparalleled passion and unprecedented performances. The air of natural confidence that you spoke with is what brought the smile to his face. Not hesitation or wobble in your voice. No need to consult a dozen others. Medically, you knew your shit.

"A tear? Luca told me it was only excessive strain on my hamstrings."

A scoff and an eye roll that widened Pedri's smile. "I wouldn't let Luca perform medicine on a Barbie. That's the wrong kind of brace if it's a sprain. It's immobilizing. You need something with compression - a thigh sleeve most likely. Have you been icing it?"

"How could you leave Barca when your successors are idiots like Luca?" His arms folded across the table in front of him as the realization spread across your features. You were acting like his physio on impulse.

"How did you know I was thinking about leaving?"

"Everybody knows. No one could focus on today's second half because of it. When I went down everyone was scrambling to find you and call you. Everyone, myself included, was waiting for you to run across the field, bag in those magic hands ready to come and give me a new leg. But then you weren't there. And I was just praying that Luca didn't schedule me for an amputation."

A shy smile and a breathy laugh. You met his kind eyes, piercing though you. It was surprising when you felt the wetness on your cheeks, registering you were crying only after the tears had rolled down to your chin. He brought his chair in closer, holding your hand, and you held on for dear life. Your tears were falling in earnest now, fat and fast enough to hit the table as you used Pedri as a lifeline.

"Come back to Barca."

"I can't Pedri. I've... I've just made such a mess of everything."

"You're talking about Pablo."

"I'm talking about everything. I have a player that actively hates me and is looking for every opportunity to get me fired. Everyone on the team thinks that I'm sleeping with Pablo. And Pablo - I can't even explain how much I messed up. I told him to stay away from me. To give me space. I don't want space." You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the table. "I just want him to talk to me. When you sent me that message I was so excited. I thought he was ready to forgive me."

"Don't worry for a second about Ferran. We heard about the complaint to HR and I'd be happy to speak on your behalf about the dogshit he says to you. Everyone with a brain knows you're not sleeping with Pablo - they all have so much respect for the work that you do. Dembele came to me after the match and told me to contact you. He said your first assignment for Barca was to work on his leg recovery, and it was the best treatment he's ever had." You raised your head, tears turning your eyes red and puffy as they stained your cheeks.

"This may be selfish of me to say, but I would do anything to have you stay at the club and work with me. I can't miss all of these cup games because the physios don't know what's going on. This is everything I have ever wanted in my life. And if you're the person that can help me get there, then nothing, especially not Ferran and the other airheads at the club, are going to hold me back."

He moved to grab your other hand as well, looking you straight in the eyes. There was not one indication that he was exaggerating his sentiments. He wanted to win more than he wanted to breathe.

"And Pablo? Don't worry about him."

"How can I not worry, Pedri. I was so cruel to him. He'll never speak to me again."

"Doctora, don't you know that there's no one on this earth he holds in higher regard?"

~

The terminal was surprisingly quite busy upon your arrival. It seemed that everyone was catching an international red-eye, causing you to stumble through crowds with your small bag and exhausted demeanor. You approached the airport staff, utterly lost in trying to find the meeting place. It was 10:56pm, and you didn't have the money to be missing the company-sponsored return flight.

"Excuse me, I'm with the F.C Barcelona team. Where can I check in for my flight?"

"I don't remember them becoming a unisex team.'' Your expression remained neutral as the staff member chuckled at his own joke. You didn't have time to give a lecture on the dangers of misogyny. "I need to see your Barca ID."

"I don't have my team ID badge, but if you let me speak to-"

"Don't you women have something better to do than try and fuck a footballer? Lord, you even have a suitcase and everything. I suggest that you go home and stop with these little charades - it's embarrassing."

You stood speechless as the man walked away, stationing himself in a different area of the terminal. Behind you, screams were heard coming from the door, followed by flashes of light in rapid succession.

"Gavi I love you!"

"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"

"Xavi have my babies!"

Your attention shifted to the security guarding the entrance as the Barca squad filtered through the doors, all dressed in coordinated pale yellow. You speed walked towards them, pace catching the attention of one of the guards.

"Miss, you need to maintain space."

Gavi turned to look at the person that was causing a disturbance. Usually it was a child who had gotten a little too excited to see their favorite players, and often the soft spot in his heart compelled him to give them a picture or signature. It was hard to have your dreams crushed as a child by a celebrity that didn't care, and he was determined not to be that type of person. That's when his eyes locked with a pair oh so familiar to him. He stood in place, frozen as his teammates narrowly avoided bumping into him and causing an awful domino effect. It felt like forever since he last looked at you this way: like you were the only person in the room.

"Ah, Doctora y/n, glad Andreas was able to coordinate with you. Sir, she's with us." Xavi's word was law, as usual, and you were allowed to pass through with the rest of the group, ushered to a more private area of the terminal, the screams of fans echoing behind you.

Pablo watched as you stood alongside the coach, chattering away about God knows what. Eric and Pedri were beside him, making conversation about the new additions introduced in the FIFA update.

"Did you know she was going to be here?" Gavi asked, interrupting Pedri's rant about how expensive different skins and expansions were. He had been desperate to see you, thinking of all the ways he might reconcile once he saw you again. But not now. He wasn't ready to face you - not ready to be told 'no' again. For the first time in years, a cold vein of fear ran through him. Was this it? Were you handing in your resignation, coming to Spain only to collect your things before moving to the gray fogginess of the Premier League?

"Yeah. We had a little chat earlier." Say what you want about the IQ of footballers, but Pedri was incredibly intelligent. He himself had given up a career in medicine to explore football greatness. This meant he was smart enough to have deleted the messages that he sent from Pablo's phone before he did his 78th re-read of all your text messages. He was also smart enough to figure out that Gavi had wanted you practically since he laid eyes on you. Contrary to what many may think, Gavi didn't really look at girls. He was usually absorbed in conversation with a friend, whether in person or virtually, and was not prone to looking at every pretty girl that crossed his path. He was hard to please and even harder to impress. So when he started seeking you out more often, mentioning you during random drives, he knew that Pablito was infatuated.

It was several months, however, before Pedri realized the extent of Pablo's affection towards you. It had been during the international break, when Pedri sat and played FIFA with Nico, the only worthy opponent among La Roja. Pablo was half watching the game, half staring at the illuminated screen when he stood suddenly. Pedri watched from the corner of his eye as Gavi stepped out onto the balcony in shorts and his training shirt in the bitter chill of December. When the match had ended (3-1 to him of course), he followed the younger outside, and found him with his phone pointed towards the horizon. The sun in its retirement had painted the sky the most vibrant shades of oranges and pinks, bleeding into a royal purple. The hazy, circular glow kept the sky warm, and the colors stretched out over the wide expanse of the city, painting everything in the golden light of dusk. That's when Pedri heard the shutter click.

"Since when do you take pictures of the sunset?" He was teasing again. It was always fun to rile up his fiery teammate.

"I'm sending them to the doctora. It's so pretty, I want her to see it."

"Isn't she in Barcelona right now? She's probably looking at the same sunset."

"But it's just so beautiful from this high up." Gavi said, eyes still transfixed on his phone as he searched for the most worthy flick to send you. "I just want to send her something beautiful. I want to send her every beautiful thing in the world."

Yes, Pedri was a smart man. Smart enough to see that Pablo's feelings to you were stronger than he had ever experienced for another. Probably the strongest he had ever experienced at all. He was smart enough to approach Alejandro and Ansu, while Gavi chewed on his lip at the prospect of speaking to you, to organize the seating during the flight home.

~

"Don't get too comfortable, Doctora. You'll be joining me upfront for a chat after takeoff." You laughed politely at Xavi as he boarded the plane. You gathered your things, acutely aware of Ferran's gaze on you while you bent over.

"Have a good time at Chelsea? Try and ruin any lives while there?" He asked, voice laced with annoyance. HR had approached him about your complaint, informing him that they would be asking other players and staff about comments made at your expense. While he could keep his friends quiet, he had done too much to piss off Gavi, leaving him vulnerable to everyone in his camp. His only hope was to get you to leave before the investigation had concluded.

"I would prefer we didn't speak about non-professional matters. Thank you, Ferran." You said, smiling so sweetly he felt his teeth throb. You boarded the plane last with the rest of the staff, Luca rushing past you like he would be left behind if he wasn't seated soon. Glancing down at your ticket, you read out your seat number. Row 6, seat G. Walking onto the aircraft, you were stunned by the beauty of the first class cabin. It was furnished completely with plush leather, with every two or three seats getting their own dividers from the rest of the passengers. You walked to row 6, and made your way across the aisle to the right side of the plane where your seat was meant to be. In row 6, seat F, sat Pablo. He looked up at the aisle at the sound of shuffling, and the two of you just stared at one another, wordlessly communicating a shared hurt. All you wanted was to pull him in and say how sorry you were. You just didn't know if he'd be ready to accept.

"Um, I think I'm in the seat next to you." You told him sheepishly. He moved from his place, allowing you to sit next to him by the window.

"I thought the staff usually sits together." He said, trying to prevent it from sounding like a complaint, because it truly wasn't. He wondered what force of fate had allowed your seat to be placed next to his. Little did he know that fate was from the Canary Islands. You sat next to him, adjusting your seat and the belt, before bouncing your leg nervously. The speed increased when you felt the vibration of the engine, watching the plane move from its parked space onto the runway. You wanted to say something - anything - but your throat was dry and the words failed you. You didn't know what to say to ensure that you would be forgiven. That was probably the scariest part: knowing that the forgiveness may never come.

"Are you afraid of flying?"

You turned your head at the question. Gavi's eyes were fixated on your sweatpants-clad thigh as it bounced at incredible speeds. There were many things you were scared of in that moment, but the plane didn't help quell any of them. You were going to be stuck next to Pablo for the next two hours at the least. The anxiety of not knowing how he felt towards you gnawed at your skin, eating you alive. You nodded your head, because in all honesty, it was the same fear, wasn't it? Flying, falling - all terrifying prospects.

Gavi put one airpod in, extending the other to you. It was a peace offering, the olive branch you had waited for. You accepted it graciously, muttering a quiet thank you as you slotted it into place. Your body turned back towards the window, 'Sky full of stars' playing softly in the right half of your brain. As the plane continued to move slowly down the runway, you felt a hand rest atop yours, bringing your bouncing leg to a halt. The skin on skin sent shockwaves through you, electricity running up and down your arm. His hand moved sideways, sliding under yours to lift, and then proceeding to interlock your fingers. The warmth of Pablo's hand, the strength of his grip. The slight squeeze as the plane began picking up speed. Despite lacking the confidence to look at him directly, you peaked at your joined hands. Pablo was here. And through the presses of his fingers and the soothing motion of his thumb, he reminded you that Pablo would always be here, so long as you would have him.

"y/n, Mister Xavi would like to see you now."

You hadn't even realized your hand was still laced with Pablo's until one of the assistant coaches came to collect you. Gavi had drifted off into a light sleep, waking as he felt the cold hit his once warm palm. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to follow the assistant coach.

"Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back."

This was your first time on a plane that had a lounge. The coaching staff was spread across all four sofas, drinking champagne and discussing the efforts from this trip. Xavi sat at a table, an empty seat across from him.

"Doctora, welcome back from Chelsea. Did you enjoy your visit?" He asked, offering your a flute that you politely declined.

"It was wonderful. The staffand players were all great. I'm grateful for the opportunity."

Xavi raised an eyebrow at the diplomatic answer. You were not giving him much of an indication as to your decision. He reached into his bag and extracted a medical file, sliding it over to you.

"As I'm sure you saw on TV and online, Pedri suffered quite a severe injury during the Man U match. Pedri is a key component of our midfield, and Luca has estimated eight to ten weeks for his recovery. I'd like you to take a look at his medical examination report and recommend a course of treatment."

You took the papers in your hand, looking at Xavi cautiously. What was the purpose of this exercise?

"Well, I've already told Pedri that his brace was incorrect, and gave him the specifications for a sleeve to buy once we return home. The eight to ten weeks metric is based on the healing with this immobilization boot. Using the correct compression sleeves and ice, as well as rest, Pedri should be back on in 4 weeks. Five if you want to be safe. That would mean his first appearance back would be the SuperCopa semifinals."

Xavi laughed to himself, collecting the files and returning them to their place. He pulled out another sheet of documents, the words "Adjusted Contract" in bold at the top.

"Doctora y/l/n, it has become increasingly evident as I watch you practice and treat our players that you are a generational talent in sports medicine. You have a deep understanding of the body that few others, both in the club and outside, can fully grasp. At Barca, we strive to do everything in our power to keep generational talents in Camp Nou. I would like you to consider remaining at the club until the summer, when contract renegotiations occur. This would allow you to see out a season that you have contributed so greatly to."

"Why the new contract now then?"

"Just a few clause adjustments. Firstly, we have increased your compensation to absorb your living costs. Those will now be covered by the club. The other change is on this page here. It states that your main focus must be on starters, injured prioritized before healthy. So, if you choose to accept, Pedri would be the top priority as an injured starter. You would dedicate all the necessary time to his treatment."

You scanned the document, and it was just as he said. No other nonsense, just the clauses on compensation and prioritization.

"This is all so flattering sir, but..." Your voice trailed off, shy to speak in front of a legend and the man holding your future in his hands.

"What can we do to make this deal irrefutable?"

"The contract is perfect sir. What I would need is a promise from you. Chelsea's base compensation was higher, but the compensation was based on the number of services the medical staff provides. I could be fired at any moment if not enough players were comfortable being treated by me. I felt, or well rather I didn't feel the sense of loyalty, of family, that I get as Barca. And so I would need a promise from you."

"Name your demand."

"When the summer comes and my contract needs to be renegotiated, keep me on the team. Don't try and pawn me off to someone else. This is my team, my club, my family. So you have to promise me that I have a future here, or else I'll save the heartbreak and leave now."

Xavi placed a pen on the table, bringing his chair forward to be as close as possible to you. "Doctora, you are an incredible and frankly priceless asset to us. We were able to hand select you from the best of the best new physios in Spain. Our successes, any trophies and titles, we owe them in part to you. Help me finish the season with a strong and healthy squad, and I swear to you on my life that you will have a place at Barca until the day you die." He stretched out his hand, and you took a deep breath, meeting the shake midway. It felt weird, signing your contract again, but for more money. You definitely didn't expect to be in this position before you've even graduated, but it brought a pride to your soul. Xavi saw something in you. A generational talent. Somebody believed in what you could do.

You returned to your seat and found that it was Gavi's turn to bounce his leg. You sat down, and he followed you with his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Very much so. I got to meet Joao Felix."

Gavi's face turned to you, catching the beaming smile that broke out across your face.

"Yeah? You like him in person, or was he a disappointment?"

"He was less... dreamy than I had anticipated. But still sweet nonetheless. It was a cool experience."

Gavi responded with a hum, turning his music back on and looking away from you. His other airpod sat on the tray table, right where you left it.

"Pablo," it was your turn to rest a hand on his bouncing leg, "we have to talk."

Pablo turned to you, eyes sad and lip between his teeth. "Do we? I feel like you've said everything there is to say." He knew he was being difficult. He knew he was being petty. But Pablo could not let himself get hurt again, especially not in front of the entire team. If he was going to mourn your departure, it was going to be in the comfort of his own guest bed, the one piece of furniture he could sleep on for 7 continuous hours because it held no memories of you. It was your turn to find his fingers and slot them between your own.

"I didn't mean it. Any of it. I have so many reasons why I didn't mention meeting you, Pablo, but I'm just not brave enough to tell you yet. It wasn't because it wasn't important. It could never be. You are one of the most important people in my life. You're one of the only people I have left. Please don't push me away."

His eyes met yours, and he knew there was no way he could remain angry. It was you, after all. The person that made Pablo believe in the possibility of a soulmate. The one that Gavi thought of whenever songs about incredible love came up on his playlist. You were it. He gripped your hand tighter.

"Going to be hard to support you from several countries away, but I will try my best."

"You don't have to. I'm staying."

Gavi's eyes widened, face lighting up like a kid who had just been gifted an entire candy store. "You're staying?"

"Mhm. Barca is my home. My family. No matter how bad it gets, I could never leave this place behind." It felt as though you spoke those words right into his soul, breathing life back into his very being. You were staying. Your voice, your laugh, your energy - all of it would be at Camp Nou, waiting on the sidelines as he fought tooth and nail to capture your attention. "And plus, Pedri and Xavi basically begged me to come back so Luca doesn't have to treat him."

Gavi let a laugh fill his lungs and spill from his throat, maybe a little louder than necessary on a midnight flight. But he was feeling genuine joy course through his veins. He was a man on death row with a second chance at life. He removed his hand from your grip, bringing to above you and resting it across your shoulders. Professionalism be damned. He just wanted to be close to you right now.

"Xavi was more convincing than Joao? I bet that would be a blow to his ego if he found out." It was comfortable, sitting with Pablo in this way. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. You pushed up the hand rest so that the two of you could get even closer. Professionalism be damned. They wouldn't fire you while Pedri was still limping.

"Oh yeah. Portugal boy is cute, but Xavi in 2010? That was my first love. I could never refuse a request from him." More giggles from Gavi. You wished you would bottle this moment, eager to make his happiness perpetual. He was human sunshine, and he deserved every light and happy and beautiful moment life could offer.

"The spiky hair? Really?"

"Shut up!" Coupled with a smack to the chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion of the day and its stressors finally catching up to you. "Every man looks hotter when carrying a trophy."

Gavi let out a light laugh, turning to hide his blush. Yet another motivation to lift as many cups as possible this season. He offered you his other airpod again, which you accepted, inserting it as a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness.

"One day, we'll need to talk about it properly, you know." Pablo said from above you, voice soft and serious.

You nodded your head, letting out a quiet "Mhm" in a agreement. You knew it was an inevitable conversation. You would have to eventually face the music, let Gavi free himself from whatever feelings were sitting on his chest. But you couldn't do it now. Not with your future up in the air. Not with your feelings for Gavi still a massive tangle of emotions.

"Not tonight." You said to him softly, as he turned his head to meet your eyes.

"No, not tonight."

Your eyes finally closed and you began drifting off. Pablo's arm remained wrapped around you as he leaned in closer, basically cuddling you on this plane. Thank the lord for blessing the engineers with enough foresight to install dividers. As you breathed rhythmically against his chest, he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing deeply. Why was everything about you so intoxicating?

In the haze of your sleep, you heard Pablo speaking to you. You listened intently, hoping to catch these special words that he only released to your sleeping form.

"Doctora, I would wait for you forever. Even when you hit rock bottom, I'll be there, waiting for you with a ladder. You will always have me, no matter what."

~~~~~~~

A/N: Guys I did it!!! My longest part to date! I am so flipping tired. It's 4am. I don't remember a time before I started writing this part. Anyways, we are chugging along y'all! Only two parts left in the main story!! I surpassed my 15k word goal. Maybe next part is 18k? I think the next part is going to be my favorite. I haven't decided if I want the big boom pow event to be in part 9 or 10. We will see. Again, apologies for the long time between updates, but semi-decent writing takes time. As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! If you notice any easter eggs/ small details, feel free to point them out!!! There are so many and I love when y'all get them. IDK when part 9 is coming out but when it's done y'all will be the first to know. Ok love y'all byeeeee.

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738

[parlerenfleurs]

I don't know if I'm reaching with that one, but it is established rather quickly that Lan WangJi is determined to mirror Wei WuXian's actions in his first life back at him when he has the means (for instance, the carrying on his back thing, or teasing him with "I do not know" as a call back to the "whatever" moment).

And just as it was a mystery to me why Wei WuXian, during the Yiling date, would entice A-Yuan with toys only to not buy him any, setting him up for disappointment, but I came to understand that it was actually a setup for Lan WangJi to buy it so that A-Yuan would like him (!!!), there is a kinda similar situation that crops up in the present, that was puzzling me but became clear to me on this re-read.

When they come out of Yi City, Wei WuXian is quite depressed and despondent. He has just witnessed Xiao XingChen's sad unlucky fate, and it reminded him very strongly of his own. And the juniors are all sad too, and want to burn paper money, and, sure, HanGuang-Jun is lenient and will let them express their emotions, but he's not that lenient, to let them do something improper/impolite like doing this in front of someone's house, when it is considered unlucky.

Yet, he does nothing, until Wei WuXian snaps out of his state and asks him if he's not going to do anything about it, to which Lan WangJi responds why don't you do it yourself.

And I think it was purposeful. Normally he would probably have told them - look at Lan SiZhui, that boy wasn't left to this own devices, someone taught him was what socially acceptable and didn't let him blunder through needlessly offending people until he figured it out himself.

But he saw the state Wei WuXian was in, and sought to distract him from it, by letting him notice and then handle the juniors' actions.

Clever HanGuang-Jun! He learned all of Wei WuXian's subtle tricks and is using them too!

[aesthetic-gamersnail]

A Nightmare (Trolls, Broppy fanfic, oneshot)

I have been thinking about and cooking up my Brozone therapy fanfiction, but I also wanted to write and think about something else for a change. (They have quite occupied my mind) So, I present to you an angsty Broppy fanfic with a happy ending. It takes place somewhen after TWT, but it is not really relevant to the plot (except that Poppy and Branch are already dating). And it is all written in Poppy's POV. I have only written two fanfics before this one (and I'm not even sure these count as fanfics), so please don't be too harsh on me. But I still would love to hear your constructive criticism and personal opinions, therefore feedback is very welcome (I want to grow as a writer and in my creativity in general) With all the things said, I hope you have fun and you like it :) ----------------------------------------------------

It was a nice sunny day. Poppy was in her pod sitting on a couch. With both of her feet up and her scrapbook material in her lap, she hummed to herself satisfied while doing her most favorite activity: scrapbooking. Right beside her sitting was Branch who was occupied with reading a book. The book was called 'Effi Briest'. She asked Branch once what the book was about and he said it was about a girl who at a young age married a baron. They have a child together but because she was unhappy with her marriage, did not feel respected by the baron and was generally not happy with their current situation, she had an affair with the major, one of the baron's friends, but immediately regretted it and stopped seeing him when they moved to a different place. Years later, with their marriage actually already improved over the years, the baron finds out about the affair and kills the major in a duel. Effi is divorced, loses the custody to her child and is exiled from society. At the end she dies at the age of 29 in her childhood home. She asked him why he would read something so sad. At that he pouted and said that first of all it is classic and a 'poetic realism novel' (whatever that is supposed to mean) and second of all it is a book that reaches deep within what the construct of society really is and how it influences our morals and understandings of the world. She nodded at that but still did not quite understand why he would specifically want to read that story. She would rather read something at least with a happy ending. But when she sees how at peace with himself he seems when reading this book, she can't really complain. He is truly one of a kind.

Before them was a coffee table, with two mugs and a tea pot. They both decided on peppermint tea, because he thought that berry tea was too sweet and she thought green tea was too bitter. She put her scissors down for a while and took one of the mugs into her hand. She took a sip of the warm, minty beverage and took her surroundings in. She looked at her pink walls, the sunny world outside her window and her boyfriend besides her on the couch. Wow, boyfriend. To her this thing was still pretty new - and terrifying. She never has had a serious relationship before, and she did not think about having one in her future because she almost always only thought about her responsibilities as queen. But now, it was impossible to think about a future and Branch not being there. He was her other part that complimented her and she hoped she was that to him too. You may say, he was her ying to her yang - or the butter to her cookies- well, of course you could make cookies without the butter, there are substitutes out there - getting off track here, Poppy. The point is: he slipped into her life and without her noticing he became the most important part of it. With his stupid cute ears, that were moving to the slightest sounds, but also sometimes exposing his true feelings. His giggling that was the softest she has ever heard. His ramblings about various topics that she would listen too, even though she did not always understand all of the things he talked about, she was curious to know what he was interested in. And he would do the same for her. And the way he would sometimes hold her hand while brushing his thumb over it, made her ecstatic. And she knew she could always be honest with him and she could trust and depend on him, because he was always honest to her.

Before that it was sometimes pretty lonely. It is not like she did not trust her friends and didn't enjoy their company, but people do not always feel inquired to be honest to someone who will be or is a queen, even if that said person is in the wrong. But Branch was never that way. Whenever he thought she was in the wrong, he would always tell her. She may have not appreciated that many times before and may also not have listened to him which she is not very proud of. But now she really, really appreciates it. She needed that. And it took some stress off her shoulders, because there was now always a person who really got her back. Who would tell her if she is going way out of her head or making the wrong decision. She could really trust him. And she felt understood.

And besides that she really loved him. And that scared her. Because by now he was just - Branch. He was irreplaceable. And she didn't know how she would deal with it if something were to happen to him. She shook her head. Nope, noooo, happy thoughts, happy thoughts. What is she getting all sad about? Everything is fine. He is here with his kinda sad book and he is fine. Why is she thinking about such negative things? At that she sighed. Branch turned his head to her and asked: "Hey, everything's alright?" She smiled at him: "Yes, everything is fine. Just-" she looked at the book in his hand "How many times have you already read this book? I mean you summarized the whole plot to me in a few seconds." "Oh. Well, I guess like, augh, the sixth time by now?" "WHAT? Are you obsessed with this book? Because that is honestly some excessive reading." "I guess it is one of my favorites, but to be honest, I have a lot of books I have read more that a few times. If you have a lot of time alone, you find various ways to spend it. But, actually, what I have been wondering about, what is your favorite book?" "My favorite book?" She had to think about it. And contemplate if she should actually tell him.

"....Promise you won't laugh?" "Sure, cross my heart and hope to die." "...Ok, I don't want you to die, so you better keep the promise. I know it is actually a children's book but I always quite enjoyed 'Alice in Wonderland'." He looked at her, thought about it and nodded. "Literary nonsense, huh.", he said, "...Yeah, that suits you." "Um", she was a little offended, "excuse me, but what exactly are you calling literary nonsense?" "What? Oh! No, no", he waved his hand, while shaking his head and laughing, " 'Literary nonsense' is a genre. It breaks common rules, violates proven things and norms of language. It is largely absurd and a game with language. Nevertheless, the genre is not pointless and cannot be dismissed as simple nonsense or jokes. Because nonsense is not only funny or satirical, but also follows certain rules or sequences. And I thought to my self, that it makes sense that you would enjoy this type of literature."

"....Wow", she smirked at him, "You are one big literature nerd." "At least, I'm not a scrapbooking nerd.", he put his hands to one his cheeks, while closing his eyes and speaking in a way too high pitched voice,"Braaanch, do you know which glue is the best fit to put a scrapbook together? Braaanch, do you know which materials are the coziest to put into a scrapbook? Here are the top five." She had to giggle. "I do not sound like that." "Are you suuuree?", he said while instensely blinking at her. "Hey! Stop that!", she scooched closer to him and took one of his hands into her own. "You", she pointed a finger at him while smiling," are such a dork. I sometimes can't believe that you are the most serious guy I know." He smirked at her. "Well, I just find the middle ground. Guess I am the perfect man after all." "Yeah, yeah, sure. Throw narcissism in there too, if you're at it." "Poppy, you are, augh," he put his free hand over his heart, "too cruel. How can you do that to the person you love?" "Well, honesty is the best policy." He chuckled and said: "Can't argue with that." Poppy looked him in the face and had to keep herself under control. Why, for the love of god, was he so cute? And have the bluest eyes in the world? Argh! It was making her mad for no reason. "By the way,", said Branch while smiling at her, "your dad invited us to go fishing later." "Oh, that sounds very nice." " I do have to ask though." "What is it?", she said it while smiling back at him and squeezing his hand. "Is the sky bleeding?"

Suddenly everything went red. The sky was not baby blue anymore, it was a dark red and the clouds were moving at an indescribable pace. The warmth in her hand was gone too and she looked at the couch. Branch was gone. She stood up franticly and looked around but he was nowhere to be found. "Branch? Branchifer? Sweetie? Where are you?!" Her heartbeat was increasing rapidly and her breathing became irregular. Her sight was getting foggier and foggier and it became harder to breath by the minute. Her thoughts were scrambled, she couldn't form a single sentence in her head. Her whole body was filled with a sense of dread and she was ready to collapse any minute. Breathing pained and with the last shaky breath she took, she woke up.

She had to blink a few times to understand, that the whole thing was just dream. She looked outside her window and saw that the sun was already coming down. She was on her couch with Branch resting on one of her shoulders, cuddled up to her and holding her hand while slightly snoring. She remembered now that they were talking about literature before and were just giggling and messing around but it seems at some point, they have both fallen asleep. Her mind must have taken that and mixed reality with her dream world to create the nightmare she just had. She sighed relieved and cuddled her cheek into Branch's soft hair and melted into his warmth. Thank god, it was only a dream. And that Branch was right here by her side too, so that she was reassured that he was ok. Guess she was more scared of losing him than she thought. But, it would be alright. Because she would always be there for him and be by his side. No matter what.

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

So, we have come to the end. My head canon that Branch is a literary nerd brought me the pain to think for an hour which book I should give for him to read, so there is also that hahaha But I hope you enjoyed it :)

[astrolavas]

Here's an ask for you to talk about any Hunter thing you want to talk about

THIS IS A PERFECT ASK THANK U LMAO i'm gonna use it up now..

been thinking abt all the instances where hunter's shown almost crying but never actually lets himself cry

just. growing up in the emperor's oven and being raised by belos and, in general, going through everything that he went through, he HAD to learn how to completely hide and mask his negative emotions. and it's not sth u can just.. UNLEARN at once.

showing vulnerability in the emperor's coven...... was definitely not sth you could just do, and definitely not a good idea. like, especially in belos' presence, hunter had to learn how to school his emotions and very carefully choose how he presented himself, for his own safety.

and even the coven members themselves; i can't imagine most scouts would react positively if any saw him cry. or even if USUALLY someone crying wouldn't be such a big deal, hunter definitely wouldn't have let himself do that. growing up powerless, he already had to struggle with being seen as less just for not having magic and he had to work twice as hard to be even a little respected. and, as we see in asias, he still isn't treated seriously by most covenheads; part of it COULD be his age but his lack of magic definitely played a big role in how he's perceived as well. in his situation he just.. couldn't afford to let himself appear as vulnerable, at all; even if others had that luxury. he'd rather mask that with anger than show sadness.

just, he was always kept to an impossibly high standard by belos and by his own need to be as helpful as he could, making himself appear as perfectly capable, a-okay, confident and just doing GREAT. which.... we all know he usually isn't doing as well as he likes to pretend he is.

but even if he didn't try to appear as such anymore and wanted to fully open up, after years of having to endure lots and lots of stuff, he just... most likely got used to a lot of it as well. after YEARS of the same bad things happening to you, you just become numb to some of it. dealing with belos, being the golden guard, working at the emperor's coven, having no support or friends, and every other thing he had to go through everyday throughout his entire life; after dealing with so much stuff for so long, you have to cope with it somehow.

numbness/being more resistant to certain things happening and just generally.. having a hard time acknowledging that you're not doing okay, not crying easily, not wanting ppl to pity you, the tendency to avoid confronting your feelings....... all of that can be seen as hunter's trauma response as well as a self-defense mechanism. and now that he's NOT in the emperor's coven anymore, even though he technically SHOULD be able to open up as he realizes he's safe around his friends, it's not gonna come easily to him.

because deep down he feels a LOT, many things constantly, but he's learnt how to deal with that in his own ways and he's been living in this state of having to act like nothing's wrong for Years; so those small moments in which he willingly opens up.. are a lot for him for sure

i can say with full certainty that he DID cry after hollow mind, once he got to hexside and let himself feel everything he felt and process everything he found out. he COULD because he ran away, hid, and was safely stored away from everyone's prying eyes. he cried it all out and THEN he could buuuury all those negative emotions deep down and pretend everything's fine once again, and appear totally "fine" (not fooling anyone though) when he stumbled across gus.

nevertheless, there were SO many moments in which his eyes teared up and he definitely wanted to cry, but he didn't. he's locked all those sad feelings away and it just makes me wonder whether the dam is eventually going to break, and once it all accumulates, once something becomes his last straw and EVERYTHING he's kept hidden for so long finally spills out of him, and the tears come again but this time don't get stopped in time. this would be a BIG moment for him; a sad one but also.. quite cathartic, in a way.

just............ thinking, y'know

[pierregas1yx]

I loved your Lewis imagine sm. Could I please get an imagine where reader and Lewis accidentally fall pregnant after a one night stand and they lose the baby during a race. Sorry for the sad request. I love your writing.

The Best Mistake

Prompt: Losing an accidental pregnancy with Lewis.

Word count: 1.6k

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female!Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy loss, depression

Category: sad

Gif: not mine, credits go to the original owner

This wasn't supposed to happen. How could it have happened? You had both been so careful. Or so you thought. The memories came flooding back and as they did so, your blood turned cold. Lewis didn't have a condom and you had told him that you were on birth control. Technically, you were, you just forgot to actually take the pill that morning. The only time you had ever forgotten and now you were being punished.

The two pink lines stared you in the face and it didn't matter how many times you blinked, they remained, refusing to disappear. Life was definitely mocking you right now.

Realising what this meant, you typed out a quick text to Lewis, your fingers shaking as you did so. He needed to know.

To: Lewis

Hey, I was wondering if we could meet up? I really need to talk to you x

From: Lewis

Of course. Is everything okay?

To: Lewis

I think so? The sooner the better x

"I'm pregnant." The words fell from your mouth before you had a chance to stop them. Lewis had only just managed to sit down on his couch in his very large living room before you hit him with the news.

"And it's mine? I thought you said you were on birth control?" Lewis asked, trying to make sense of the situation. You had both known each other for years, becoming close and building a tight friendship. However, one night of partying and too many drinks, you decided to risk it all.

"I am. I mean I was," you sighed, getting flustered. Lewis wasn't trying to accuse you of anything because he knew you better than anyone and trying to trap him with a pregnancy was not something you would ever do.

"At the time, I was but I think I forgot to take the pill that morning. It was an accident, I swear-" you started to defend yourself but Lewis cut you off by pulling you into his arms. He rested his chin on the top of your head and rubbed your arms. You felt him sigh deeply and from that very moment, you knew that you wouldn't be alone during your pregnancy.

"Whatever you decide, I support you one hundred percent. We're in this together, you hear me?" Lewis pulled back to look at you and when you nodded your head, he pressed a kiss to your temple.

Morning sickness was awful but what was even worse was constant sickness. Nausea that never went away, vomiting every few hours and the smell of all food immediately diminishing any hunger you might have felt. Because of how awful the beginning of your pregnancy had been, Lewis wanted to keep an eye on you at all times so now, wherever Lewis went, you went. What that meant was constantly travelling to races. It was exhausting but you'd rather be there, around Lewis, than at home alone.

But over the weeks of your pregnancy, with Lewis constantly at your side, the two of you grew closer. There had always been something there between the two of you, it was the spark that ignited the fire, also known as the evening you conceived. Now that you were carrying his child, there was far more at stake but Lewis decided that the risk was worth it. He didn't want to think about the 'what ifs' and he didn't want to regret not taking his chance when it presented itself.

Many of your evenings were spent curled up on a couch or in a hotel bed together, watching something on the TV together. You would rest your head on his (shirtless) chest and his arms would hold you close as he pressed small kisses to your face and neck every so often. Those intimate moments were your favourite and although you cherished your time alone with Lewis, you couldn't wait to add your bundle of joy to your expanding family. It was only a matter of time.

It was yet another race day and you could only hope that Lewis would be able to get a good result. It was no secret that the car wasn't as good as seasons gone past but if there was anyone who could get the best out of it, it was Lewis.

He had pole position and you couldn't have been prouder. That was your baby daddy and the man that you loved.

"You feeling okay, baby?" Lewis asked as the two of you walked hand in hand to the garage. Your bump was beginning to show and you were proud to show it off.

"A little bit off but what's new?" You tried to joke but you could see the concern flash across his face.

"Hey, I'll be fine. Just go out there and do what you do best." You stopped walking and held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. His deep brown eyes scanned your face but you gave him a reassuring smile and he let out a deep breath of relief.

Continuing your walk to the garage, Lewis left you to get ready for the race. You stood beside Angela, already feeling the nerves. You were nervous for him, wanting him to do well and for him to be proud of himself no matter what but you were also nervous because of the risk that came with his beloved sport. You couldn't bear the thought of him getting hurt.

Soon enough, it was lights out and the cars thundered down the track, weaving in and out of each other. The drivers battled it out across all areas of the track, some fighting for the championship, others for points and others to simply not be last.

Very quickly, it was coming up for the last fifteen laps and you suddenly started to feel a little bit faint. It was a new symptom of your pregnancy so you didn't think anything of it, only leaning against Angela for support.

She glanced at your face, realising that the colour had drained from it and when she took in your whole appearance, she stopped at your bottom half.

"What?" You asked confused but when she didn't answer, only tried to cover you up from any of the media seeing you, you looked down to see the blood seeping through your jeeps and dripping down your legs.

Your whole body went numb. Your legs turned weak and you stumbled backwards, trying to find a chair of some description to stop you from falling over. People were fussing around you, talking to you and you could hear their voices but you couldn't make out their words. The world was passing you by as you sat and thought about what was happening. You were losing your baby and there was nothing you could do about it. You were losing your baby and Lewis didn't even know.

"Last lap, Lewis. Keep pushing." Bonno spoke over the radio, trying to keep the driver calm and not letting him know what was currently happening. Truth be told, Bonno didn't know what was happening to you. You could have been feeling nauseous again so he didn't want to worry Lewis in case it was nothing.

The car crossed the finish line and Lewis recorded his first win of the season.

"Yes, guys! That was a good win and great work from the whole team, thank you." Lewis' voice could be heard on the team radio and although they should have been celebrating him, the mood was somber. Bonno had glanced over at you and Angela and noticed the blood that covered your jeans. With that amount, he knew it couldn't have been good news.

"Guys? What's going on? Is it Y/N?" His tone changed from excited to worried in a split second and when no one answered him, his demeanor changed drastically.

"Put her on. I need to talk to her." Lewis demanded and there was a mad rush to get you a headset to tune in to talk to Lewis. Maybe you needed to hear his voice to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

"Baby? You there?" He questioned as he was coming close to finishing his cool down lap.

"Lewis," you whimpered and Lewis felt shivers go down his spine. You had lost the baby and he hadn't been there for you.

"Listen to me, try not to worry. I'll be there as soon as I can. We'll get you to the hospital and whatever the news, we're going to get through this, together. I love you." He tried to reassure you and it was the best that you had felt since discovering that you were bleeding.

The only thing that you needed was to have him by your side.

In the weeks that followed, fans across the world noticed Lewis' absence from the paddock. He stopped racing, taking a leave of absence and everyone at Mercedes understood and sympathised with him.

Currently, your days consisted of lying in bed and not moving. After the medical procedures and saying goodbye to your baby, you were so emotionally drained that you had no energy left.

Lewis was the same. All he could focus on was getting through this and to the other side with you by his side. He needed you if he ever wanted to get through it.

Your baby would never be forgotten but he wanted the pain to lessen, even just a tiny bit.

You lay in bed, curled up in Lewis' arms as he traced soothing shapes onto your skin. He felt so safe, like home and the only light you could find in the all consuming darkness was Lewis.

As long as you had him, you knew you would be just fine.

a/n: thanks so much for the request, lovely! apologies for it being so sad and such a sensitive topic. if this has caused any upset or distress to readers, I sincerely apologise. my dms are always open to anyone who may require it but if you don't want to talk to me, please talk to someone because you're never alone. lots of love <3

[sleepy-shutin]

do you have any tips on communicating with alters? i get the vibe im really not alone in the brain area (there are. copious ammounts of other reasons but.) i'm not sure if i just got some srs dpdr or am like actually a system

this sounds like less of a "communicating with alters" problem and more of a "DID vs. other disorders" problem, or a "how to tell what is and isn't an alter" problem. if you're not sure whether or not you have alters, communicating with them or attempting to do so isn't going to help you figure out if you have alters or not, you're just going to get more confused. trust me, i've been down this exact same path before and it made things worse and more confusing. don't jump into trying to communicate with alters first before even knowing whether or not you have them.

also, obligatory warning that more people should be giving out: if you're still living in an abusive/traumatic environment, i personally really do not recommend self diagnosing with DID. from my personal experience and the personal experience of friends, this makes things worse, especially if you're under 18 or otherwise cannot legally leave. worry about surviving and getting out, THEN worry about the magnitude of trauma that you experienced and try to start getting it processed. trying to process trauma and deal with trauma and dissociation symptoms while still being traumatized actively is an awful experience.

if the second paragraph doesn't apply to you, ignore it. it's not for you.

this post from felis puts a lot of it into some pretty easy to understand language, the difference between cPTSD parts and fully autonomous dissociated parts, as seen in DID or OSDD-1.

another thing to note--i can't remember if this is mentioned in the linked post or not--but parts aren't always necessarily going to feel like entirely different people controlling your body. the vast majority of people who have autonomous dissociated parts have parts that are not the most distinct and may be separated out by feeling (i.e. "i feel like a serious woman with long hair") rather than suddenly knowing you have a specific name, age, gender, etc.

what you should do when trying to figure out if you actually have parts, is pattern tracking. journal a lot. if you can, try to think about how you feel throughout the day, (i.e. "do i feel like the serious woman with long hair or do i feel like the sad little boy or do i feel like the happy man with a baseball cap?"), to better track these patterns and see if they are brought up at specific times of day.

for example, i become tal when i'm at work. she is a teenage girl with dark hair, and she's very cheerful, and is pretty happy being masculine, even though she doesn't necessarily present that way when we draw her.

while i'm at home, i become zero, who is more serious and deadpanned and irritable, who is very obviously a male figure.

i can always tell the difference between these two specifically because of how starkly different we feel to each other. when i start feeling like a bubbly teenage girl, that's a pretty easy way for me to tell when i've switched. i can generally tell when i'm going to switch to tal because she comes forward in IRL social situations, and at work. i've used pattern tracking over the course of months to figure these patterns out.

that's only two parts out of my documented 30-something, and it took months to fully figure that out. you're probably going to have a similar amount of time figuring out your own shit. don't rush it. the best time to start is now, so be patient.

so basically, track how you feel identity-wise in differing situations, and track how connected or disconnected you feel to these differing identity feelings over time.

when you get home from work/school, does the person at work/school feel like you? do you feel confused by your actions at work/school? anxious about these actions? disgusted? do you feel like these actions you did at work/school are something that you would do now that you're not at work/school? these are some questions you can ask yourself.

remember, this only works if you're honest with yourself, and it is not a quick process.

i hope you get things figured out anon.

[strbymacaroon]

❀ 𖧷 VOLUME ONE: ORIGINS 𖧷❀

Spider-Man Eren! x Reader

VOLUME ONE: ORIGINS

Sypnosis:

An alternate universe where Attack on Titan and the Marvel Universe collide! Where the Spider-Man universes collide!

Where the new spider is the one and only nerdy, Eren Yeager. Who happens to have a world stopping crush on you.

Genre:

Attack on Titan Marvel crossover, Spider-man and Eren Yeager crossover. Multiple parts.

Word count:

22.7k Words.

『 VOLUME ONE: ORIGINS 』: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

Eren Yeager. 

Your average senior college boy. 

Charming, attractive, rich, and popular. A different lady at his luxury apartment every weekend. Star quarterback for the college football team. You know, the average. 

Eren was living the life. Peaking, even. The it-boy if you will. 

Okay, enough lying. 

Eren was absolutely none of that. Like, not even in his goddamn dreams. Was it sad, it could be. But, he didn’t let it bother him. He was pretty content with his best friend Armin and Harry. Along with his stunning camera. A beautiful 18th birthday present. 

Yet, that had absolutely nothing to do with the situation he was currently in. 

Currently, Eren was trying to silently exit the situation started by the person in front of him. Ignoring the phones out recording him and Jean. Of course, out of all the days Jean wanted to bother Eren, it was on the day he had a very, very important interview. 

A rude mantra of curses left Jean’s mouth as he placed a hand on Eren’s chest. Shoving him back with every step he took in the man’s direction. 

Yelling things at him like, Stupid cunt or Nerd. Eren didn’t even know people other than himself and Armin used the word nerd, unironically. Looks like he owed Armin ten bucks. Then another twenty to Harry. 

Honestly, Eren couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Harry and Jean were brothers. He could never wrap his head around the fact that one of his closest friends was brothers with his tormentor. He can’t even fathom how the two are related! 

They’re polar opposites. Actually, this was somewhat debatable, they’re pretty similar in the looks department. But, when it came to interactions with Eren… Harry was one of the few people that actually liked Eren. Enough to deal with him and be his best friend. That’s why they’re so close now. Purely because they’ve known each other since high school.

In all honesty, Eren was just trying to distract himself right now. He really, really didn’t want to fight Jean. He didn’t know how to fight for his life. Let alone a boy who was the star quarterback of the school's football team. He didn’t even know people actually fought until he saw one in the middle of the subway train. Over a sandwich of all things. 

It was very clear, Jean was the worst person in Eren’s perspective. A person who thought with their dick rather than their head. 

Literally. 

Jean was even worse when he was with his best friend Flash. 

Jean has a full scholarship, because of football. He was honestly nothing without it. No smarts or distinct personality, nothing that makes a person unique. He was someone who was destined to be in the NFL, an athlete ready to go pro. 

Someone everyone was dying to be friends. Not because he was a cool person, because he was going to be famous. It was a given with his looks, and skill on the field. People just wanted to boast about being friends with a pro when they were in college. Something to talk about when they were all grown up. A story for friends, or maybe kids of their own. 

But, Jean is the type of person who would kindly– no, disrespectfully, ask you to fuck off. Because, that’s just who Jean was. 

And, of course, like always, a certain someone was here to witness it all. Someone Eren really didn’t want to see get his ass beat. 

Which wasn’t out of the norm. Well, it kind of was… He’s never been in a fight with Jean, just kind of expected it to happen at some point. So, there was that. Yet, he couldn’t help but think– What did I do to deserve this? 

Which was absolutely nothing, Eren had been nothing but kind to Jean back in their youth. So much as kissed his finger when the two of them made a pinkie promise back in freshman year of high school. But no, Jean was just a huge dick and loved to flaunt it. 

You know, how every boy with a small dick is. 

Still, this was a situation he didn’t want to be in. Let alone, really know how he got in. 

So. Let’s start from the beginning, maybe that’ll help: 

Eren was your typical guy. 

Poor college student. Although, that's always been the case for Eren. He’s always had to deal with poverty. He wasn’t homeless, but he knew from a young age he had to do something to help pay the bills. 

If he wanted to eat something sweet, or treat himself to something unhealthy, he’d probably have to babysit the kids from the nice neighborhood across the town for a few hours. Technically an hour, but he always liked bringing something for his Dad. 

It didn’t bother him too much. Eren still feels like he had a great childhood. Sure, he had to worry about the random loud ‘bangs!’ in the middle of the night. Or, the odd noises coming from a dark alley when walking home. Maybe even the intense stares he got when he brought his backpack with him to the convenient store a few blocks down. 

But, other than that it was pretty great!

He was a smart, nerdy, and an awkward boy. Honesty, the typical nerdy boy. Yet, he didn’t necessarily have the completion of one. Being staggering in height, –Although, no one could tell by the way he hunched his shoulders– piercing green eyes, and the body of any girl's dream. Although, it was always covered by his baggy clothing. Something he bought from the local thrift shop or Goodwill. 

Luckily, growing up in an environment like that– he learned how to adapt, and dress himself with the money and clothing he had. Although, he didn’t really try to. He just stuck to his normal bummy outfits. It was easier this way. And, so, so, so comfy. 

Yet, Eren didn’t like to consider himself a nerd. 

Did he like anime, yes.

He did love Star Wars, yes. 

He did build the DeathStar with his best friend, yes. 

He did have a huge gaming setup in his room, yes. 

Did he have the grades and smarts, yes. 

Did he love science, yes.

Did he not know how to communicate with women, yes. 

Did he–okay, you get the point.

But a nerd?! Psh, yeah. Wrong guy. 

Eren didn’t consider himself such. He didn’t spend hours upon hours watching porn or hentai. Let alone anime for too long. He’s watched superhero movies for far longer.

Although, Eren did sometimes wonder if he was in an anime, what it’d be like. He always imagined a cheesy Slice of life anime, where a bunch of girls were fighting for his attention. You know, the average romance anime. Nothing too special. Yet, like every other anime– he was as dense as a rock, and always ended up picking the worst option. The tsundere girl who got on everyone’s nerves. 

You know, the usual horny boy fantasy. 

Eren wore normal things, at least that’s what Eren likes to think. Converse, jeans, random graphic tees, and denim jackets. His glasses held together in the middle with some clear tape. Which had whitened due to the amount applied. Being a broke college student wasn’t always the best thing out there. And finally, his hair. Which was always tied in a man bun with his pink hair tie. 

It was actually what he was wearing today. Who would’ve thought?

Eren could dress better, sure. But, sometimes it was hard. He didn’t have enough ‘nice’ clothing to wear throughout the week. So, you could only really catch him looking good once a week. If he felt like it. So, he never really stuck out. 

Although, Eren was tall, so there was that. It was something he was quite proud of. Hell, he would randomly call his Dad, explaining how thankful he was for his awesome genes. Anyways, no more appearance talk, it’ll go to his head. 

Eren wanted to work at Stark Industries. An establishment where intelligent people –such as himself– would be given jobs that would help with The Avengers. 

It was also owned by the one and only Tony Stark. Sometimes Levi Ackerman when he felt like it. A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, as Levi and Tony like to say. Which were also the guys in the iron suits. Surrounded by hightech weapons, and technology. Once helping allied forces in World War ll. 

Which happened to be taking interns at the new building within New York. It was specifically made for students within NYU. And Eren was getting an interview there. 

This was the thing Eren dreamed about doing at some point in his life. 

It was an opportunity to get a jump start into a career within science and technology. Maybe, even get a good paying job as a student. Which could snow-ball into a full time career within Stark Industries. 

Which was amazing since his major revolved around that. 

And maybe, he could even see Levi Ackerman or Tony Stark in action. Not on video, not in the news, and definitely not late at night when he should be studying. So, that was the very, very important interview he had today. Eren wasn’t going to miss it for the world. No matter what.

Back to why Eren thinks he’s going to get his ass beat.

The only thing that comes to mind, which wasn’t even that bad. Was probably his obsession with his camera. Which stemmed from the obsession he had with his phone. Well, it wasn’t his phone he was obsessed with, it was what he was doing on his phone. 

Eren was usually nose deep into his phone, and always typing something out. Writing down something more specifically. I mean, he just likes writing things down. It wasn’t obsessive, –maybe it was– but, it was enough to send concerned looks from his fellow peers. It wasn’t often. Just happened enough times to make him aware of it. 

So, maybe two or three times. Maybe even four, he can’t really recall. So, not too often. 

It started back in elementary. It was cute, just little notes on small pieces of paper to remind him of what he had to do later. Wash the dishes, wash the car, walk the dog –you know– normal things. The stuff you’d show your mom and get a head pat for. A little praise of, ‘You’re being so productive!’ And, a little treat if she was in the mood. 

Cute and simple things, really. 

Then, it became slightly different when he hit middle school. Once he got a cheap and practical cellphone. One that was able to take poor quality pictures and write small entries on the notes app. Eren soon started to ‘snap!’ photos of things. Then, write his notes under them. Which wasn’t weird either! It was actually really tame, and kinda’ of healthy. From what his father told him at least. 

A picture of his dog, a note below it saying–

-walk the dog. (Extra soft and fluffy today.) 

Or maybe, 

A picture of his best friends Armin and Harry

-call Armin at 6:30, (Changed his glasses to a different color.)

See, nothing weird!

Eren didn’t do it for every note. Just ones he felt like needed one. Ones that stood out to him, or he just wanted to capture the moment and write what was going through his head. It helped with a lot of stuff that happened when he was small. He just liked capturing the moment. Just like everyone else. Eren just had a slightly different way of doing it. It wasn’t anything bad either. It was just something cute and sweet. Like capturing the moment in his head. 

Then, high school happened. The sudden development of high tech suits, technology, and weapons happened. Along with many, many lawsuits against The Avengers. 

Suddenly, just like everyone else. He had a reason to be on his phone. Watching videos, and reading blogs about the hero made him a big fanboy. In fact, it shaped what he wanted to do for his future. Made him love Stark Industries. 

Which only worsened when his Father gifted him a nice camera for his birthday. Along with an expensive laptop to match. Which was a birthday and graduation gift. Then suddenly, Eren was taking pictures of everything. 

And I mean everything. 

‘Snapping!’ photos, and adding a mental note to each one of them. Excited to go home and upload them to his expensive laptop, ready to write the note out on paper. Or screen per say. Then, with pictures he really liked, he’d print them out and post them in his bulletin board. Connecting them to other photos that were similar. 

Eren’s room was decorated in beautiful photos. Some pictures of people with their loved ones, laughing away about something he had no clue about. Others of plants or scenery, showing the beautiful limelight of the world. The images TV’s played when you're not watching a movie or show, it was just displaying photos because it was on. 

It was wonderful. A cute hobby really. 

Until, it kind of wasn’t…

Suddenly, he was taking pictures of people he knew, or teachers. Adding notes that relate to education and his personal opinions about the person. Like how they looked that day, what they were wearing, how much it cost, things like that. Commenting on the brand of clothing they were wearing. What type of material and color. Where he could find something similar and the price listed next to it. 

Which he knew he could and would never buy, but he just liked writing it down.

At this point all his pictures held notes below them. All of them. That was in high school. He was now in college and still dealing with this… habit. 

So, that’s what he did today. Just like every other day. ‘Snapped!’ a photo of the most beautiful thing in the world. Like, he usually does! Making sure to take a moment to adjust the lenses, making the lighting shine down perfectly, and get the right angle. 

Of course, he was being discreet. He usually didn’t like the idea of taking pictures in public. Unless, it was authorized by a school event, where he was assigned to take pictures for the school. Other than that, Eren always made sure to be discreet when taking photos. He didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable after all. And, that's what he was doing now. Once the photos were taken, he brought the camera's screen to his face. Squinting his eyes and trying to view the photos. Which was a little difficult due to the strong rays of the sun. 

Despite that, he adjusted his thick framed glasses and clicked through the new collection of photos. Smiling as he tilted his head, satisfied with the new group of colorful images. A small blush on his cheeks while he adored each picture. 

Now, what was in this beautiful new collection of photos? 

Well, it was you. 

You had worn something particularly cute today. A black skirt, black stocking that covered your legs from the cold weather of New York. A white tight fitting long sleeve turtleneck, which sort of looked knitted from a distance, and a light brown luxurious double breasted overcoat. Your boots reached just above your knees, heels to give you some needed height, –he didn't mind you being short nonetheless– and black gloves that covered your hands. 

You had a gold necklace wrapped around your covered neck. Sporting a single letter representing the initial of your first name. Hoop earring to match, and a black scarf to add to your already defined look. Light make-up and clear– maybe, tinted pink lip gloss. Holding a pencil between your index, and middle finger. A pair of sunglasses pushing your curled hair out of your face. 

You looked good today. 

Well, to be fair. You always looked good. Maybe that's why everybody knows you. Well, that wasn’t the only reason why. 

Not only did you have an amazing fashion sense, but you were the sweet, kind, and helpful person that everyone liked speaking to. You also sported a really pretty face, which only helped with your bubbling popularity and personality. 

Now you, unlike him– were the ’it’ boy. Or rather, ‘it’ girl so be it. 

You were part of clubs and activities. You were appreciative, and participated in almost everything. You helped organize a lot of school events too. 

Although, Eren’s heard mixed reviews about the people you organized with. Someone saying you would never reply to messages, calls, or in person meetings. Always with a string of excuses, often related to– Art. 

Nevertheless, everyone wanted to be friends with you. But, unlike the typical popular girl– you loved making them. Loved talking to people and hearing what they had to say. Gaining names, upon names, of people that you had to remember. 

Eren doesn't know how you do it. He knows he’d never be able to do it. 

Don’t get it wrong! You were a good person! What felt like the only good in the world. Always trying to help, and willing to see other people's perspectives, and assisting them off that. With a happy and sincere smile on your face. 

You switched your legs, crossing the right one over the left, then vice versa. Resting your chin on the palm of your hand and leaning to the group of people sitting around the table. Another group of known students. That being the infamous Connie, Sasha, Annie, Hitch, and her boyfriend Marlowe.

Along with another person who wasn’t currently at the table. Someone, Eren absolutely hated. Take a wild guess who. All those people being known around the campus for different reasons, whether that being good or bad. They all loved your attention and friendship, just like everyone else. Dying to know what you had to say or do. 

A kind smile on your lips as the person who spoke had your whole attention. An airy laugh leaving your shiny plump lips when they said something that particularly tickled you. 

Only, there were two, small problems. 

You, the beautiful Y/n L/n, didn’t know Eren Yeager. 

Like.. at all. 

Which– he didn’t even blame you for. 

Eren always chooses to be alone, and not be too sociable. It’s not like he really needed to be everyone's friend. He had Armin, Harry and.. Okay, he only had Armin and Harry. Sometimes that Mikasa girl, when she wanted to talk to him. But, that was only when she wanted notes for a lecture she missed, or a pencil. He could point her out in the lecture room, and… Okay, so, maybe not Mikasa. 

However, Eren was pretty content with the friends he had. 

Totally. 

Okay, it would be nice to have more friends, but that was proving to be extremely difficult when Jean absolutely hated Eren’s guts. And, with Jean being an absolutely power hungry person who everyone desperately wanted validation from, it was kind of hard to do that. People just followed what Jean thought, coping with his actions and emotions. 

Sure, Eren didn’t have to deal with bullying from others as bad as Jean’s. But, sometimes just standing by and talking shit –or recording in this instance– didn’t make them or the situation any better. 

That’s why Eren liked you. You never let Jean influence your opinions. That’s why you were so close to many of the people Jean hated. Like Floch or Marco, actually best friends with the both of them. You genuinely didn’t care what Jean –let alone anyone– thought.

The problem with you and Eren were your social dynamics. You were known, like known. Everyone knew you and loved you. He couldn’t put it into words, so… imagine Regina George, –if she wasn’t fake, and ‘such a good– slut!’ as Cady liked to say– that was you. 

Perfection. 

Actually, maybe– just maybe, you had one flaw. Which Eren didn’t even think was a flaw.

You were an absolute Air-head. 

But, you were an Air-head who wanted to help people! Which were the best type of Air-heads. 

So, maybe not Regina George. Karen Smith suited you better. A cute bimbo. An idiot with a cute smile. But, Eren didn’t think you were a complete idiot. 

And, Eren was– well, he was Eren. No–one to be honest. Except for the average football bully’s punching bag. The weird guy in the back of his class engrossed on what was on his computer. His classmates too scared to check what he was doing– or… watching per say. 

With a black hoodie and matching face mask not helping his case. 

Then, there was problem number two. 

Circling back Jean. 

Jean’s hand came to the top of your back, resting his phone on the table as you looked up at him. Smiling and saying something he couldn’t hear. –He was like 30 feet away from you– Jean smiled at you, putting his thumb on your lip and whipping something away. Grabbing a strand of your hair, and pushing it behind your ear. 

You just giggled, putting a hand on his chest, and shoving him away playfully. 

If anything, that should be Eren pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Seeing your adorable smile as he smiled back at you. His cheeks dusted with pink from being so close to you. Maybe, you’d even agree to a quick photo shoot in the park. 

You got up, grabbing your bag and waving a kind hand at the people at the table. With everyone returning it back to you. Grabbing your headphones, and placing them into your ears, picking out some music to listen to. Then, turning to Jean and walking with him. Your right hand on your bag and the other one within his. Skipping every now and then to make him speed up his pace. Eager to get to your destination. 

Eren was pretty sure you were dating the one, and only –jackass– Jean Kirestein. Eren honestly didn’t know why. Despite being with Jean, Eren just couldn’t help himself. You were just too cute. 

Eren bit his lip and watched the way you gracefully walked, the wind blowing your hair perfectly and– Eren did what was second nature to him. Almost like walking or breathing. He brought his camera up to his eyes, and adjusted the lenses again. Seeming to forget he was in public. Trying to get the best angle before snapping a few photos of you walking. 

Sighing blissfully, and bringing it down from his eye. Looking down adoringly and sliding through the photos. His blush deepened with each one. He was so utterly infatuated with you. You were such an idol in his eyes, a beautiful piece of art.

Adjusting his glasses he raised the camera again, aiming it at you only to be startled by Jean’s face completely covering yours. Staring directly at the camera and more importantly Eren Yeager. He flinched, letting out a quick, ‘Oh shit,’ as his hand quickly shut the camera's flap, letting go of it and letting it hang around his neck. 

“Were you taking photos of Y/n, creep?” 

You stood a few feet behind him, eyebrows crossed and head tilted slightly. Your headphones tucked away in your pocket. Your hands held behind your back while your left foot was pivoted behind the right one. Lips in a small pout as you tried to figure out what was happening. Your eyes moving from Eren to Jean, curiously examining the situation. 

Oh shit, was Eren’s first thought. Followed by, Holy shit she caught me taking a photo of her. 

Jean laughed, loud and obnoxious. “Holy shit, Yeager–creep was taking photos of Y/n.” He scoffed, an amused smile on his lips as he tilted his head. Showing off a proud smile, sharp canines shining at him. “Is that why you always carry your camera around? I always knew you were a pervert, but didn’t think you had the balls to actually take photos of a girl.” 

Eren shook his head, slowly taking a step back. Only to be followed by Jean with two steps closer. “What? Were you going to jack off to them?” Jean was getting off on this, he loved to taunt Eren. He shoved Eren backwards. “Huh?”

“It’s not like that Jean–”

You let out a soft, “Jean?..” trying to pull him away from the boy he was pestering. You weren’t necessarily a fan of watching Jean bother people. Random innocent people at that. People doing what they love, and minding their own business. 

Jean looked at you scoffing, “After taking pictures of you?” He said, a hand on his hip. “Please, this is why people walk all over you, Y/n. You need to stand up for yourself.” He turned back to Yeager, glaring at him. 

“Back to this piece of shit.” 

So, that's how Eren got here. 

Awkwardly smiling as he took another step back. Jean just cocked an eyebrow, glaring at him. Feeling a tiny hand on his back, making him freeze on the spot. He definitely wasn’t expecting you to touch him right now. Not in the middle of bothering Yeager. 

You tilted your head, peering from behind Jean and looking directly at Eren. Eyebrows furrowed as you spoke, “Yeager?..” You slowly asked, wondering why that name sounded so familiar. You bit your bottom lip, “..Yeager?..” you whispered. Trying to understand what about that rang a bell. 

Before, your eyes widened, taking in a huge gasp. A big smile on your face as you poked Jean, turning his attention to you. Watching as you slowly walked in front of Eren, and looking up at him. Eyes wide with astonishment, and excitement. Eren could feel his face burning, your body was so close to his. Your sweet perfume, and small body inches from his. Eren could feel his heart beating out of his chest. His mouth opening, and closing like a fish out of water. 

Eren was trying to talk to you. But, he just couldn’t. He couldn't say anything.

You smiled at him, “You mean that one guy who takes all the cute photos of the school?” You were now directly in front of him. Standing on your tippy toes and getting closer to his face. Causing his breathing to completely seize. “You know, with his little– uhm?..” Your eyebrows furrowed together, trying to recall the word. 

“Camera?” Jean said, taking a step back. Finding it odd how intrigued you were by Eren. 

You smiled, nodding your head quickly. “Yeah, that!” You said, “That person is him?” You said point a finger at Eren. You were so cheerful and happy, it was almost… blinding. 

Eren blinked a few times at you, trying to breathe again. However, when he did, all he could smell was you. Your shampoo mixed with your sweet perfume. Maybe, some lotion on your neck. He thickly swallowed, his mind blanking and slowing down. 

Eren felt dizzy, like he was going to pass out. Holy shit, was he going to pass out?! His eyes were trained on you. Holy shit she’s right in front of me. Eren just ended up slowly nodding his head. It wasn’t even a strong nod, it was a pathetic weak one. 

You squealed, jumping up and down and turning to Jean. You honestly loved his work. His photos were always so stunning! You absolutely adored the way he could capture the essence of the moment. Which happened to include a lot of events organized by you. He somehow always made them look absolutely stunning. It just really helped getting some publicity when you didn’t know how to. 

It didn’t matter what the event was, it just always looked amazing. Honestly, Eren was really cool for that! That’s why you had his name memorized by heart, just in case you ever ran into someone with that same name attending your university. Well, his last name at least.

But, you were pretty sure you knew him. Somehow. Or, somewhere.

You turned to Jean, smiling at him like an idiot. “Jean, he was obviously taking pictures of the school!” You said, pointing to the scenery in the background. With a ‘duh!’ tone of voice. “I mean, this place is literally gorgeous.” You turned to Eren, grabbing his camera and ducking under the camera strap, and pointing it at Jean. Unknowingly pressing your back to Eren’s front. 

Caught in the middle of the camera strap in between both of your heads. You continued, “He probably needs to point it in our direction, or something.” You squinted at the camera, “Like what camera people do.” 

“Photographers.” Jean said, “They’re called photographers.” He said again, slightly annoyed. God, you could really be an idiot sometimes. Jean thought, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

You nodded, “Yeah, those people!” You pointed at him playfully, smiling. You didn’t notice that you were practically pressed against Eren. Just ducked your head, leaving the confined space, and placing the camera back in Eren’s hands. Saying a soft– “Thank you!” While giving a final smile of blissfulness, causing his heart to absolutely melt. 

You looked back at Jean. Raising your shoulders and smiling. “If we’re lucky, we might even land in one of the school pictures!” 

You’re way too optimistic, and naive to really see what was happening but, Eren wasn’t complaining. If anything it was really in brand to who you were. You literally just made the perfect lie for him. One he was definitely going to piggyback off of, if he could find the courage to speak. 

And, now Jean didn’t have to fight him so– win win!

Jean slowly looked at you, then to Yeager. Jean wasn’t convinced, in fact, he was quite literally the opposite of convinced. Maybe, he just wanted a reason to bother Yeager. So, he said the next best thing. “Alright.” He slowly said, “Can we see them?” 

Eren was still trying to collect himself from the close contact he just had with you. Yet, he didn’t even need to, you were already speaking for him. 

You quickly shook your head at Jean. “No Jean!” Your voice was so cute and sweet. “That'll ruin the surprise, Babe!” You said, hands helping express your statement. You were always very animated. You turned your head to Eren, smiling at him and winking. “Right, Eren?” You put a thumbs up. Waiting for him to give one in return, it took him a second but it slowly –and weakly– happened. 

You nodded, turning back to Jean and grabbing his hand, pulling him away. Hushing him as you said, “C’on, I’ve been wanting to try this adorable candy place! Just forget about it!” You were so lucky Jean liked you. Because sometimes, you honestly just got on his nerves. He liked the version of you when the two of you were alone. 

In the end, Jean just scoffed and turned away, glaring at Yeager. You just pulled him forward. Distracting him away from the tall boy. You slowly turned to Eren, smiling and sticking out your tongue playfully. Scrunching your nose and waving ‘good-bye!’ Before, continuing the walk you were having with Jean.

Eren stood there for a minute, before finally feeling his knees cave. Making him drop down to the ground and sit on the green grass. His bulky camera pulled against his neck from the sudden movement. His heart pounding in his chest as he felt his ears, cheeks, his whole goddamn face burned up. 

His eyes were glossy and wide. A goofy smile on his clear face. 

God, he was so in-love with you. 

Maybe, he didn’t say a word. Maybe, he didn’t even breathe, but that didn’t matter. What did was– he finally got to be near you. Eren finally got to see you up close, rather than the picture he took. Yeah, he was infatuated with you– yet hadn’t uttered a word near your presence. Despite knowing you for years.

He even got to see you up close. He got to see what he admired from afar a few inches from his face. And, he was so happy with that. It was enough, he was happy with this interaction alone. Eren could die right now, happy and content. 

Even if… he didn’t say anything. 

Because, that was enough, you were more than enough. Despite this, a part of him does wish he just could speak around you. Even if that was just a few words. How? Eren has no clue. Maybe, if he had an alter ego. One that covered him head to toe with something to hide his identity. A cooler, and more confident version of himself so that he could just talk to you. 

Something utterly unrealistic. Something like that would be nice. Really fucking nice.

But god, he was so done for. 

Because, Eren learned one very important detail about himself. 

Despite how much Eren absolutely adored you. He could not, –for the life of him– utter a word around you without feeling like he was going to explode. How the hell was he supposed to start talking to you if he couldn't do the fundamentals of talking?!

God. He just wished he could. Eren really does. 

 ╭──────────.★..─╮

          Location: Eren’s Cheap, Raggedy, Apartment…

╰─..★.──────────╯

Eren was wearing the best things in his closet. 

A nice dress shirt which he bought at Ross, and a black tie he borrowed from Armin. Along with some semi-formal black pants. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find nice shoes –in his size– in enough time for the interview. So, he just had his black converses. Luckily, he stopped into a store the day before. Finding a black trench coat for him to ‘borrow.’  

Eren’s hair was somewhat tied back, the majority of his hair out and complementing his face. And, a part of him hopes that Stark Industries gives their employees a uniform to wear for work. If not, he was seriously going to be struggling with looking presentable in a place like that.

I should take a picture. Eren shook his head. Not now. 

Eren was staring at himself in the mirror, and smiling lightly. Still feeling you near him. Still able to see the innocent smile on your lips. His camera in his hands as he scrolled through the new collection of images. Smiling like an idiot, and leaning on the restroom counter. His foot placed on the cabinets below it. 

Maybe, just maybe– Eren was a little stalker-ish. Just a little. But, he didn’t have any bad intentions. He just liked to capture beautiful things in his photos. Which was perfect considering you fell into that category. Perfectly.

Honestly, the interaction between you two was just the thing he needed before an important interview. Something to get his heart pumping, and his nerves ready for the unexpected questions he was going to be asked. Eren placed his camera down on the counter. Shutting the flap and sighing. Looking at himself again. Adjusting the thick-framed glasses he had. The clear tape holding them in the middle almost taunting him. 

He really needed to buy a new pair.

Eren adjusted his hair one more time, making sure it was slicked back, and walked out of his small restroom. Ignoring the creaky boards with every step he took. Again, living in New York as a college student was hard. Eren was lucky enough to have a decent scholarship that covered a lot of his expenses. 

Did it cover everything? No. Yeah, absolutely not.

But, it was took care of enough.

And sure, maybe he had to deal with his neighbor’s loud arguments at the ass crack of dawn. And maybe, he had to buy an extra lock for his door, because he didn’t truly trust the locking system already there. Or the weird stained window curtains that barely covered the outside from inside. He didn’t care, it was cheap. Eren didn’t have the money to be picky, let alone sad about not having money. 

Despite this, he always knew how to make his apartment look presentable. It was decorated in his artwork, pictures he took when walking around the streets of New York. Having some furniture and decorative items to make it look more presentable. –You should’ve seen how it looked when he first got here– Now Eren could confidently say this was his home. A good representation of himself as well. 

He shook his head, adjusting a photo on his wall, and glancing at his skateboard. Eren quickly grabbed it. Tucking it under his arm, and looking for the keys to his house. Soon finding them, and leaving his small apartment. Making sure to lock the door and pull it a certain way so the door is fully locked. Which was something he had to learn the hard way. 

Then, he was off. 

Walking through the plain hall, decorated with the peeling light green paint that had been there for god knows how long. Weird stains of dirt or blood… giving it some decoration. Eren grabbed some of his wired headphones, looping it through his shirt and up to his ears. Connecting it to his phone and scrolling through his music list. Trying to find something he was fond of. 

He ended up choosing the song, ‘Gone, Gone, Gone.’ A song he’d grown quite fond of. Only, to be stopped by his phone ringing. He awkwardly searched his pockets, his free hand going to his back then front pockets. Finding where it was located. Of course with his heavy skateboard in his left hand. After some time, Eren just placed it on the wall, deciding that would be more practical. Then grabbing his phone, looking at the caller ID. 

‘Armeen’

He smiled then, slid his finger on the screen of his phone, and answered the call. 

“Eren!” 

Eren flinched at the loud tone of his best friend. Pulling the headphones away from his ear, and waiting for Armin to stop shouting. He could hear him shouting even without his headphones on. He wasn't even listening. Just waiting for his friend to calm down. Grabbing his skateboard and continuing his venture to Stark Industries. 

Soon, it bubbled down to silence. Making Eren lower the volume and return the headphones to his ears. He took a deep breath, and wearily asked– “Okay, are you calm?” 

There was a moment of silence. Followed by an indefinite, “Yes.” 

Eren huffed out a laugh, nodding his head and stuffing his phone back into his pocket. Grabbing the mic of the white headphones and raising it to his mouth. “Okay, that’s good.. What happened?” 

Armin took in a deep breath, taking a moment to collect himself. “You know how I said I was going to get interviewed a few people before you?” He paused then spoke again, “And, how I could help scout the area out for you?”

Eren pushed the apartment complex doors open, entering the streets of New York. Pushing the hair that got into his eyes behind his ears. Walking by the groups of people getting to where they needed to be. “Yeah? I remember.” He softly said, “I mean, I was kidding.. but, sure. Yeah.”  

Armin scoffed, finding it rediculous Eren would joke about something that involved Stark Industries. “Okay, well.” Armin sang, leaning on a wall and peering from the side. “Mr. Ackerman is here.” He quickly informed, “So is Tony Stark.” He held his breath for a second before speaking again. “And, they're now interviewing the students.” 

Eren froze in his spot. Blinking mindlessly. 

Levi Ackerman was going to be interviewing me. Tony Stark was going to be interviewing me. His heart was pounding, his hands shaking. A sudden boost of adrenaline. 

Armin flinched, hearing the call end abruptly. His eyebrows knitted together, saying a soft— ‘Hello?’ Before finally checking the screen, and seeing that Eren ended the call. He let out a small laugh, dropping his phone by his side. A charming smile on his lips as he looked at the ceiling. Letting out a small, “Huh.” of acknowledgement. 

This wasn’t going to be good. 

Sure, Armin told Eren what wanted to. Partially. Yet, he’s pretty sure he should’ve started the conversation differently. Maybe, said something along the lines of– ‘Not only that, but–’ to keep his best friend on the line for a bit longer. 

So, he was a little guilty. And, what could possibly invoke this feeling in Armin you ask? Well… Tony Stark and his brother Levi Ackerman were going to be the interviewers. Armin knew Eren was going to freak. Maybe even die by such people colliding within the same time period, and goddamn room. But luckily, he already warned Eren about that. 

But, that’s not worrying him. Something else was making him worry.

What? You may ask?

Well, the third person that was going to be interviewing him alongside Levi and Tony was…

╭──────────.★..─╮

          Location: Outside of Stark Industries…

╰─..★.──────────╯

Eren was out of breath, lifting his skateboard off the ground and grabbing it with his free hand. Taking a moment to catch his breath, and stare at the huge building in-front of him. 

This was it. He was here. 

About to get interviewed at Stark Industries by the one and only Levi Ackerman himself. Aka, Ironman.

Mostly.

Eren felt like he was going to faint, maybe even throw up. Possibly scream with excitement. Something was about to leave his mouth, and he honestly couldn’t tell what it was going to be. Good or bad. 

Eren thickly swallowed, looking directly in-front of him and staring at the doors leading into the building. Okay, maybe the nerves were coming back.

Eren thickly swallowed, shaking his head and walking inside. The automatic doors opened almost instantly. Fresh and cool air hitting his body. Which wasn’t too pleasant considering how cold it was. Yet, he didn’t mind for two long. His breath was stolen by the establishment in front of him. All the technology, and innovations within. 

A digital display of Levi Ackerman and Tony Stark placed back to back in the middle of the large room. Showing off their Iron suits, and displaying some of the mechanics and offensive moves. 

A limited number of people were actually walking around, but the ones who were seemed to have purpose. A reason, and their confidence shined through. If not, they were sitting down in conversation with someone else. 

The place was so futuristic. It almost looked fake. Things you’d see in movies, and only movies. Elevators and staircases, a lot of staircases. People wearing things he didn’t even know existed. Let alone want to know the price of. Eren was astonished. He’s never seen so many pieces of technology and plants in one room. 

Jesus! Are any of these real?!

Both his hands went to his neck, trying to grab his camera and capture the moment. Thoughts bubbling into his head to write down. Information entering then leaving, because of how much he was taking in. 

Shit, my phone. Where’s my– 

“Excuse me?” 

He stopped frantically checking his pockets. Turning his head to the side, eyes meeting the women who called out to him. She was a sweet looking girl with red hair and kind eyes. “Can I help you?” She had a casual outfit, more casual than the other people within the building. Which made her stand out. 

Did I stand out?

Eren cleared his throat, standing up straight and walking towards her desk. Slightly tripping over his feet as he inched closer. He looked down, trying to see what he tripped over. Only to see his now scuffed shoe. 

He tripped over nothing. God, I look so bad right now. 

Eren gave an awkward chuckle, looking forward and leaning on the counter. “Yeah, uhm. I’m headed for the Ackerman interviews.” He sheepishly said. 

She looked to the side, like she was thinking. Only for her eyes widened with excitement, “Oh! You’re one of the students!” She said cheerfully. Turning away from her computer, and giving Eren her full attention. “Great! Your interviews are taking place on the sixth floor.”

Pepper, as her name tag said– turned over her shoulder. Pointing at an elevator, “Sixth floor, and the door all the way down. Room number seventy two.” She looked back at the computer, typing something. “I’ll tell Levi and Tony that another one of his interviews are here.” 

Eren bit his lip. “Wait, how many interviews is he doing today?” He tilted his head slightly. 

Pepper tapped her foot a few times, clicking something on her computer and scrolling. “Uhmm..” she drawed out. “Around three to four hundred.” 

Eren could feel his heart drop. He was going to need to stand out from four hundred other students. Students who also passed the most difficult micro-technology, and fringe-science test given to even get an interview, ever?! 

Eren just forced a smile, which didn't look too pretty. He huffed, nodding his head. “Alright then.” 

Pepper looked at him for a second. A smile on her lips, “I promise you– it’s really nothing to worry about.” She leaned on the palm of her hand. “It’s just you’re competing with other extremely intelligent students your age that share very similar characteristics.” She shrugged, “But, you’re special in your own type of way, I’m sure!”

Eren felt his eye twitch, another forced smile and laugh. As he seethed, “Thank you, Pepper.” Looking at her name tag again.

Her eyebrows itched together for a moment. Clearly showing her confusion, before she scoffed. Looking down at her name tag for a moment then back to Eren. Choking out a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, please.” She said, “Call me Petra, only Levi and Tony call me that.” 

Along with Pepper herself. 

Both of them usually got mixed up at the establishment. It just turned into an inside joke between the four of them. Levi, Tony, and Pepper. Enough to the point where Tony would purposely switch their name tags. 

Eren nodded again, ignoring the anxiety put in him. Grabbing his skateboard, and resting it under his arm, holding into his backpack strap for comfort. Walking towards the elevator. 

His phone vibrated, a small ‘ding!’ ringing through the small room of the elevator. 

I should mute that. Woah, this is a nice elevator. I could probably get a cool ground shot if I– Not today, Yeager.

He shook his head, grabbing his phone and looking at the notification. Seeing it was from his best friend Harry. Definitely what he needed to distract himself, considering how nervous he was getting. 

Harry Osborn

Tell me how your interview goes

Since your such a FREAK for things like this

Eren

That's the plan

Eren silenced his phone, slipping it back into his pocket and sighing. Leaning on the clear wall behind him, because of course the elevator was made of glass. Allowing Eren to observe the establishment as the elevator went up. This felt so surreal. There was no way this was really happening. 

The door opened, revealing the huge floor. It was mostly marble, and windows. Considering it was just a massive hall leading people to different rooms and secured areas. Only granting access to those who held key cards of their identification. 

Maybe, that would be Eren one day. 

Eren shook his nerves out, smiling and walking forward. Reaching the waiting lobby. Or, what Eren thinks is the waiting lobby. It was quite, more fake —or real— plants decorating the room. Some chairs and pieces of technology displaying something to entertain the guest. 

What surprised Eren was the other receptionist sitting in the corner of the room. He just slowly walked to her, being extra aware of the floor to not trip over nothing this time. There were a bunch of other students in this room. 

The woman behind the counter had a somewhat similar complexion to the girl downstairs. The only thing being really different was their outfits. Her outfit being more mature, and fitted. Like she did work here. A formal working coat, and her hair straightened. Nice light makeup, and a name tag. Eren couldn’t help but notice her name tag. He laughed, seeing it read, ‘Petra.’ 

“You must be Pepper.” He said, a small smile on his lips. 

Pepper laughed with him, hand covering her mouth as she nodded, “Yes, I’m Pepper.” She got up from her chair, reached to the end of her desk and grabbed a few papers. “I’m guessing you met Petra.” She grabbed a pen, placing the two things on the counter. Ready for Eren to grab. 

Eren put a hand on his neck, “Yeah, I kinda inferred your name tags were switched.” 

Pepper smiled, nodding her head. Sitting back in her chair, and rolling back to her computer. Grabbing her mouse and clicking something. Saying a small, “Smart,” as she typed in a few things. “Actually, believe it or not. You’re the only person today who’s made that connection.” Pepper clicked on the interview times, causing a scroll of names to pop up. “Which is weird considering how many mini-geniuses we have in this room.” 

Pepper bit her lip, her eyebrows knitting together. Saying a small, “Guess that makes you special.” She took a moment to really look at her screen, before opening her mouth again, about to ask Eren a question.

“Eren Yeager.” He quickly said. 

Pepper blinked at him for a second, before smiling. Nodding her head and looking back at the computer. Clicking onto the name ‘Eren Yeager.’ Pepper, winked at him. “Thank you, just the thing I was about to ask you.” She pointed at the papers again. “Just fill this out, and once your name is called..” she looked at him. Smiling excitedly, “It's show time!” 

Eren nodded, looking at the papers and grabbing them. Then, looking around the room, trying to find a place to sit down. Which was a little hard due to the scary vibe everyone was giving. 

Which, he couldn’t even blame them. Everyone in this room was competing for the single space. 

Eren settled with the seat next to a.. fake.. real?… plant. Far enough to get some personal space, yet close enough to the interviewing room. Which was currently closed. Eren placed his backpack and skateboard to the side. Grabbing the pen and filling out the form. Seeing it was an equation on nanotechnology, along with some other form of physics. A combination of the two and some other things along those lines. 

God, not another test. Jesus Tony, you’re killing me. 

“Yes, I promise to be back before the next interview.” 

A sweet, and really familiar voice spoke. A girl? No shit it’s a girl Eren. 

“Yes, I know, I know.” 

Eren looked up, feeling his heart stop. Cheeks are heating up with a red color. Holy shit. Holy shit. 

You closed the door silently, shaking your head and giggling lightly. Catching the attention of everyone in the room. I mean, who wouldn’t want to look at you?

You took off your coat, placing it on a plant. Okay, yeah, they’re all fake. Then grabbing your name tag and pressing it on the door next to the one you just exited. Taking a moment to look over your shoulder and peer at the students. Wanting to know the other people you would be interviewing with the Stark brothers. 

When your eyes locked with Eren’s. Your body froze, hand horror-struck on the doorknob as your eyes widened for a second, which— Eren could confirm, wasn’t excitement. 

You quickly changed your expression, smiling and scrunching your nose. Thickly swallowing, and waving goodbye. Walking into the room and closing the door behind you. Tense from seeing a person you were familiar with. Sure, you were happy to see a familiar face. Even if you didn’t really remember his name, it was always good to see someone you were familiar with. 

Mostly. 

Just not in this situation. Not when you were at Stark Industries. Something you desperately wanted to keep separate from your college life. You could feel yourself cringe. 

You softly sighed, looking at the ground. “Crap.” 

Eren’s face was burning. Ears tinted red and his heart beating out of his chest. Why the hell is Y/n here?! He could feel his throat drying up, he needed water– air, Wait shit! Am I even breathing right now?! He quickly inhaled, seeing he was indeed holding his breath. Eren closed his eyes, before getting up and placing the papers down on his seat. Leaving it behind to try and get some –needed– air. 

Eren left the waiting room. Pushing the doors open and stumbling forward. Making sure not to trip and then walking around the sixth floor. Exploring the area as his heart slowly returned to normal. Which wasn’t helping considering how nervous he was to see you, and you being here. 

Eren sighed, leaning on a wall not too far from the waiting room. A locked door right next to him, another room where an ID card was needed to enter. Eren just needed to turn the corner to walk back to the waiting room. Something he didn’t know if he wanted to do just yet. 

Eren did have one more problem to solve from the test Pepper had given him. So, he really should go bac–

“No, Jean.” Your voice rang out, “I already told you I can’t go to your game today, I’m already doing a–“ you paused, scrunching your nose. Taking a moment to think, looking at your surroundings and sighing. “An art thingy.” You said, slowly looking at the ground. The black heels that Jean bought for you, clicking against the marble ground. 

Eren pressed himself behind a corner, staying there to collect himself. Holding his breath like you could hear him. Debating on whether or not he should walk past you, or just go around. I’m just going to walk around. But, before he could leave, Jean's voice replied to you. Catching his attention. 

“C’on, you’re always doing some shitty art thing.” He said, his tone obviously annoyed. “Your art, Y/n, isn’t going to get you anywhere.” He insulted. 

You furrowed your eyebrows together, softly sighing. Closing your eyes, and dropping your head. Eren couldn’t see you, but he could feel your emotions. 

He was an empath like that. 

“But. I can.” Jean continued.

You opened your eyes glossy. Your nose a darker hue as you sniffed, awkwardly laughing as you spoke. “Jean, you know I’m–“ you sniffed again, sighing this time and giving up on explaining what Jean already knows. “I– I’ve gotta’ go.” 

Jean said something, but you ended the call. Leaning on the wall and softly groaning. Looking at the ceiling and biting your bottom lip. Blinking rapidly as you tried not to let tears fall. 

Eren was at the opposite side of the corner, feeling a part of him hurt.

If only I could say something. 

If only I could say something.

The same thought traveling through both your heads. Desperate and calling. Both similar goals with different routes and outcomes at the end of them. 

You sighed, pushing yourself off the wall and walking away. Going towards the waiting room. Wiping your eyes lightly with your sleeve. 

Wait, you were walking towards him. Shit! Shit!

A panic shooting through his body as he looked around. Watching as people passed him and shooting them a panicked look. Almost as if they knew what was happening and we’re going to somehow help him. 

Now, what Eren did next– he isn’t very proud of… Eren done worse, sure. But still, it was definitely something he doesn't like to admit, or even think about really. In fact, every time he recalls this memory, he always tries to force a different way these set of events happened. 

Eren grabbed the ID of the worker walking past him. Pressing it on the screen lock, and entering the locked door right next to him. Quickly shutting the door as quietly as possible. Holding his breath, with his back pressed to the door as you passed by. Heels clicking with every step you took. Which made the situation way more dramatic than it actually was. 

You stopped for a moment, staring at the door and raising an eyebrow. Looking at the person who just passed by. Noticing a few odd things about them. Something’s not right. 

You put your hand on the doorknob, before shaking your head, and pulling away. You needed a break. You just needed sleep. You just turned on your heels, waving ‘hello’ to whoever passed you, and continuing back to a different room. 

You didn’t feel like going back to the conference room, just yet. The interviews with the Stark brothers could wait. 

The people applying for this job were intelligent. A very simple way to put it. And, intelligent as in– Why the hell are you in college, and not working for NASA. Just some smart place like that. 

One thing that all these people had in common was– the lack of friends. It was to the point where all of them were closed off, it looked like a lot of them haven’t spoken to someone in awhile. It just didn’t sit right with you. 

That's why you made sure to be very engaged with everyone. Nodding your head and smiling when they brought up something familiar. Grabbing their hands and giving them your full attention. You know some people want to be heard, so you always make sure to give people that feeling that they were. 

Eren sighed a breath of relief once he couldn’t hear you anymore. Closing his eyes and shaking his head. Feeling his hands shake. God, I’m so pathetic when she’s near me. Eren pushed himself off the door, looking around. 

Wait, why is she here?! That thought didn’t last. What did, was the next one. Wait, where the hell am I?

Eren looked around the room. Noticing all the chemicals and computers were in this room. Along with glass beakers and paper filled binders. Okay, I definitely shouldn’t be here. 

Eren turned back to the door, ready to press the ID card to the sensor when he heard some talk. Like, right outside the door. Well, he could always wait for them to pass by. It's not like– The lock turned green. Unlocking the door for them. 

Oh shit. 

Eren looked around the room, finding no place to hide. God, this is bad. Eren just groaned, finding another door and thinking– good enough. Before he pressed the key-card to the screen, and shoved himself inside. Shutting the door the exact same time the other door opened. 

He thickly swallowed, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows. Back pressed to the door as he tried to listen. Seeing if he got caught, or if the people heard something. 

“You think John’s coming?” The mystery person asked. Sounded like a male, maybe an older gentleman. 

“No, I just told him I’m grabbing my laptop. Told him to just wait for us.” A female voice responded, she sounded around the same age. 

“Where is your laptop?” He asked. 

She moved some papers, “In this room..” she said. Grabbing some beakers and moving it to the side. Causing the glass to loudly ‘clink!’ against each other. “Ah!— found it.”

Eren sighed, relaxing against the door. Hearing the couple make some small talk, and thankfully it seemed like they were going to leave soon. Which meant, he wouldn’t have to panic for too long. Actually, maybe he should. What was this room?

Eren was in a dark room. That was a lie, it was illuminated by the blue light on racks. Racks of what? You may ask. Well, even Eren didn’t know. From this distance, it sort of looked like racks of– Cotton?.. Strings of cotton, maybe?

Weird. 

He squinted his eyes, seeing some black dots on them. Moving neon dots. 

Wait, what is that?

Eren pushed himself off the door, and walked forward, squinting his eyes and pressing his glasses to his face. Trying to see what the hell was in front of him. Unfortunately, the 5 racks were moving in a circle. Making it even harder to see what it was. 

He walked along with him, staring at the small neon dots. His nose a few inches away from one of them, only to stop dead in his tracks. His stomach dropped. 

“Spiders.” He whispered, eyes widening. His body tensed. Eren took a step back, his mind blanking in fear. “Spiders.” Another step, “Spiders.” He said, absolutely awed. 

For the worst reason.

Now, the one thing Eren was terrified of. Even more than you, –despite you being his favorite thing in the entire world– was spiders. 

He genuinely could not stand them. At all. 

Eren didn’t hate them. No, in fact, he wished he did. Eren was just deathly afraid of them. That’s why he couldn’t stand them. The long legs, bunch of eyes, and fast speed. The shits can climb walls, and have weird super strength?! Are you kidding me?! God really fucked the world over when creating those little devils. 

Eren can’t express how terrified he was of them. Couldn’t look at them, scared. Couldn’t kill them, scared. Once moved out of a house because he saw a tarantula, scared. Which, who wouldn’t?

That’s how scared I am of them. Fuck the little scary devils. 

He bit the inside of his cheek. Taking a bunch of steps back. Bumping into the wall and falling on his ass. His glasses fell to the floor, shattering one of the lenses. Which he couldn’t care about right now. He just needed to get the fuck out of this room. Like, right now. Maybe even kill himself if he couldn’t leave. 

Almost instantly, his skin was crawling. Were the devils on me?! He swatted at his skin, trying to remove the feeling. Despite nothing being on him. A common thing once he sees the horrible creatures. Even if they were feet away from him.

He looked back at the door he entered, forcing himself up and rushing outside. At this point, he didn’t care if the people were still there, he just needed out. Unfortunately, during that crazy flight-or-fight reaction, he ended up running through the cobwebs. 

Oh my god. I'm killing myself. 

Eren forced himself through the door, shutting it behind him and grabbing the cobwebs in his face. Peeling it down and muttering, “Gross.” Then tossing it to the floor. Shaking his hands as the cobwebs still clung to his fingers. Strings of stickiness dangling from his fingers. 

Eren shuttered as he removed the rest. Watching the webs slowly peel away from his skin and clothing with every movement. It felt like they were still on him. I mean, they still were. Strings or cotton decorating the floor and his hands. 

This was disgusting. 

Eren finished removing them. Shaking his head for the last time, and walking to the door he entered. Pressing his ear to it, trying to hear if anyone was near before existing. Then closing the door and dropping the key card on the floor before discreetly walking back to the waiting room. Pushing the doors open and walking back to his seat. Ignoring the looks from the other people in the room. Along with Pepper’s. Just staring at his seat like he wasn’t gone for half an hour. 

He needed to finish one more problem before–

“Eren Yeager?” You smiled at him, putting the clipboard under your arm. “It’s now your turn.” 

Eren put his hands to his face, shutting his eyes and taking in a deep breath. God just really hates me, doesn’t he? Eren grabbed his things, awkwardly shoving them all together and making his way to the door. 

Until–

What’s this weird sensation.. What’s on my hand?-

A spider. 

You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Seeing as he froze in his spot. Staring directly at his hand. Almost like he was entrenched by it. You took a step in his direction, trying to look at what he was staring at. “Uhm, are you.. Okay?..” You softly asked, tilting your head at him. Looking at what used to be his glass covered eyes. 

Then, it bit him. 

Eren let out a pathetic and weak laugh, I’m going to pass out. 

Eren wasn’t even joking. He was literally going to pass out. His head felt heavy, and his eyesight slowly turned into static. Oh my god, I’m going to pass out. He staggered forward, blinking rapidly. His ears ringing and block out the noise in the room. His head is leaning forward from the impossible heavyweight of his head. 

“Eren?” 

Your voice rang through his head. Causing his eyes to instantly go to your frame. Before he could even register it, his body was leaning on your small one. Easily holding up his weight. You looked at him, readjusting your hands to better support him. Your nose is almost touching his. 

Your cherry lip gloss overcoming his senses, sweet perfume and innocent eyes. Curious and filled with worry as you looked at him. You hand lifted to cup his cheek. Eyes wide and on him, and only him. “Oh my gosh! You’re– You’re burning!” Despite the situation, your voice was still cute and innocent. Filled with desperation. 

You hand pressed against his chest, the other one on his face. Making him look directly at you. God, you were so close he could feel your body against his. Your chest pressed against his chest. Making his skin deepen in color. 

In that second, Eren gained all the energy he needed. His face flushed, as he pushed himself away from you, everything that he was holding falling to the floor. Due to it being a momentary strength, he lost it almost immediately. Falling to the floor. 

Your eyes widened, going on your knees with him. “Levi! Tony!” You hurriedly shouted, “Get some help!” You looked at him, your eyes glossy brimming with hot tears. Eren couldn’t help but think, You were always very sensitive, and so caring when it came to people. You grabbed his face again, placing the back of your hand on the top of his head. Feeling his temperature, again, you repeat yourself. “Oh Honey, you're absolutely burning.” 

“What’s happening?” Levi spoke, his sharp gaze landing on Eren. His brother, Tony, followed behind him, lifting the glasses he was wearing to the crown of his head. They were probably reading glasses.

Of course, this had to be Eren’s first interaction with the brothers that owned this very building. Just great. His literal heroes were watching as he burned up on the floor. With his crush trying her best to comfort him. 

You turned to him, “I– I don’t know! He just fell on me, then–”

“Passed out on the floor, right.” Tony said, he closed his eyes for a second “Get up. Y/n, help him to the– the..” He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to think of the word. 

Pepper smiled, shouting, “Health-room!” from her desk. 

Tony pointed at her, “Ah, yes. Health room.” He forced a quick smile at her, “Thanks, Pepper.” Tony looked back at you, “Take him there for me, yeah?” 

You nodded, looking back at Eren and cupping his face. “Oh Love, where are your glasses? Aren't you blind without them?” You tilted your head. 

You weren't wrong, but Eren knows that's not how that works. Like, at all. Sure, he had thick lenses, but– he wasn’t blind. Yet, Eren didn’t have the energy to correct you. To be fair, he never had the energy or the balls to correct you. 

You wrapped his arm over your shoulder, picking him up –with surprising ease– and leading him to the health room. Making sure to say soft praise for each step he took. If Eren was more aware of the situation he would’ve been freaking out. Your small hand on his body, forcing weak steps out of him. Then, praising him with sweet words. 

Levi looked at all the stuff on the ground, letting out a small scoff. “I just had this floor cleaned yesterday.” He softly said, making Tony look at the mess with him. 

Tony let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, well…” He grabbed Eren’s backpack, tossing it on a chair, and looked at his skateboard. “God, did he come here on this?” He shook his head, leaning down to grab the skateboard only to stop. Looking at the small thing near it. 

“Levi.” Tony’s voice was stiff, like he forced it out of him. Closing his eyes and sighing heavily. Levi looked at Tony, glancing at what he was looking at. Then, he kneeled near the ground. Almost instantly, Levi was groaning alongside Tony, looking away and rubbing his temples. “Don’t tell me that spider came from the kid.” A rhetorical question, one that Levi wanted to roll his eyes at. 

Tony reached inside his pocket, pulling out a tissue. Grabbing the spider and bringing it closer to his face. Looking at it, almost sighing with annoyance. “And, it’s one of ours.” Tony grabbed the skateboard, putting it along with his backpack and papers. 

“Send someone to go check–”

“On it!” Pepper shouted, a smile on her lips as she pushed herself from her desk and walked out the door. Grabbing some of the staff and walking toward the ‘situation’ room. 

Tony shook his head with amusement. Looking back at Levi saying, “This is why I love her.” Before getting up and handing the tissue to Levi. Letting his glasses drop over his eyes, turning over on his heel and walking into the room. 

“Tell Pepper to cancel the rest of the interviews, we have our guy.” 

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed together, not convinced by what his brother was telling him. They’ve done at-least a hundred interviews, and now he’s choosing to be lenient when picking someone? After regarding a student because he didn’t like how they sat? Yeah, Levi wasn’t convinced. “And, what if he’s not what we want?” He expressed, his hands crossed over his chest. 

Tony laughed, shaking his head once. Raising his eyebrows and turning to Levi. Straightening his posture and saying, “Well, we’re going to make him what we want.” He said cooly, pushing open the door he exited and walking into the room. “No matter how far from it he is.” 

Levi rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue and followed Tony. “You just don’t want to deal with a lawsuit.” Shutting the door behind the both of them. 

Tony nodded his head nonchalantly, “That too.” 

╭──────────.★..─╮

          Location: Stark Industries Infirmary…

╰─..★.──────────╯

Eren’s eyes adjusted to the light, a soft groan leaving his lips. He was laying down on a scratchy surface, which felt slightly cushioned. Was it a bed? A really uncomfortable one? For some reason, Eren could also hear people talking– was that a beeping noise? Eren let out a soft groan, stirring in the uncomfortable bed. 

Wait, where am I? 

Eren quickly sat up, hearing the beeping noise get louder, only to see it was a heart monitor. It took him a moment to process, confused about the situation. When it hit him like a truck. 

Oh. That’s right. He's still at Stark Industries. He passed out, if he can recall correctly. He raised a hand to his temple, rubbing it. His head was pounding, something that only worsened his weakened state. He was thirsty, tired, and mostly embarrassed. Eren didn’t even want to think about what happened. If anything, he couldn’t even think.

But he shamefully couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

How Eren practically fell on you. He probably looked so stupid. Eren tried to ignore that thought, he was way too exhausted to think about that. He thickly swallowed, lifting his head and looking in front of him. 

Yet, for once in his life— he really, really, didn’t want to see the person in front of him. Not like this. 

You were sitting across from him on a plastic chair, typing away on your phone. Your lips pressed together, and eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Right leg crossed over the left one as it bounced. Your eyes went up, looking directly at Eren. Feeling a pair of eyes on your frame. 

You smiled at him apologetically, getting off the chair and placing your phone down on it. Looking at him with concern. You bit your bottom lip, awkwardly resting your hand on top of your heart. Somehow pressing your chest together perfectly. Eren would have appreciated the view if he was more awake. And, if he had his glasses. “Are you feeling any better?” You softly asked. Tilting your head at him innocently. 

Eren sighed, leaning his head back and nodding. His hands gripping into the white sheets that covered him. Lips pressed together tightly in a straight line. He really didn’t want to talk to you looking like this. 

You got closer, standing in-front of him. You were about to speak when Eren beat you to it.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyes trained on you. It’s been forever since the last time he actually spoke to you. This was probably the worst thing he could’ve started with, but this question was killing him. Why were you here?

Your eyes widened, surprised by his question. Surprised he even said something. Since Eren had a habit of staying quiet when you were near. You thickly swallowed, “Why are you here?” You asked, smiling at him. “Are you gonna’ be one of those white lab coat people?” 

“Scientists.” 

You pointed at him, nodding your head in agreement. “Yes, scientists.” You said, turning away from him. 

“Why are you here, Y/n?” 

You giggled, “I’m just like a receptionist. I write things down.” You softly said, waking to your seat. “My Dad works with Stark, and managed to help me get a job here.” You grabbed your phone from the chair and turned to him. Your face burning with embarrassment, “I don’t even know what a receptionist does, pretty stupid, huh?”

You weren’t looking at him. 

Which was good, you would’ve seen the absolute confused face Eren had. He didn’t even want to ask more questions. Because he knew he wouldn’t like the answer. Eren didn’t want to know how an air-head like you got a job like this. 

An adorable air-head. Although, a part of him was slightly salty with the amount of connections you had.

You grabbed your bag, “Anyways!” You said gleefully, “I think you're big enough to handle the rest of the way home.” You walked to the door. Leaning on it. “Or, do you need me to walk you?” 

Eren shook his head, trying to release the hold he had on the white sheets. Only to find them.. stuck to his hands?.. 

You took a step backwards, looking at Eren. “Alright then, c’ya!” You pivoted on your heel. Eren just watched the way your skirt twirled with you, flipping up and flashing him your panties. Eren looked away, his ears red. 

He didn’t need his glasses to tell what just happened. 

Once you were gone he looked back at his hands. Eyebrows furrowed as he tried to pull the sheet away from his hands. Feeling himself grow antsy, and panicked. Why couldn’t he?– Let go!

Eren sighed, relaxing his shoulders. Closing his eyes and just thinking. Which was probably the worst possible thing to do given his situation, but it’s all he could do. He hated being alone in his thoughts. Eren finally felt his hands pull away. It allowed him to look at the sheets, then his hands. He slowly breathed out, “Oh-kay.” Eren leaned back in the bed. Looking at the ceiling, processing what happened. 

“That’s– new.” 

╭──────────.★..─╮

          Location: Your Comfy, Comfy, Apartment…

╰─..★.──────────╯

It was night when you finally made it home. And, it was time for your daily facetime. You placed your phone on your restroom counter, washing your face with makeup remover. “Okay, look.” You said, grabbing a towel and patting your face. “Harry’s a cute boy, tall, nice, and awkward. So is his brother Jean, I know that.”

You propped your phone up. Looking at your best friend Gwen. “And, I mean, really nice.” You had a small blush in your cheeks. “But, he’s like–“ you tried finding the words. “Weird? Different?.. I don’t know, it just feels like he’s forcing himself around me.” Or, it feels like he shouldn’t be around me. 

Gwen nodded, “Weird as in, he hates you? Or weird as in he likes you?” She said, raising an eyebrow. “When people like someone, they tend to be awkward or rude to that person.”

You paused, looking at your reflection and blinking innocently. “Likes me?” You said, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach. Your friend laughed, making your face heat up again. “Gwen, I’m being serious here.” You softly wined. 

“No, no. I’m sorry, s’just you’re really cute.” She shook her head, “I get why it can be confusing, usually guys don’t act like that when they like someone.” She said, “I can’t remember the last time someone was awkward around me, because they liked me. I’m almost jealous.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyways, please continue..”

You sighed, kneeling to the floor. Looking directly at your phone, “He’s… I don’t know.” You tilted your head to the side, resting it on the counter. “I don’t even know what to say about him. There’s nothing about him that would make me feel like this. It’s just… it’s uncomfortable.” You whispered that last part. 

Maybe, this is why you’ve never been in a relationship. 

You sighed, getting up and grabbing some face cream. “It’s weird, I just feel like he… he’s hiding something. Or, is trying to hide that emotions are changing. I just— I don’t know…” You felt your chest tighten, “That type of weird.” 

“I don’t think I follow you.” Gwen shrugged, “Nevermind that. But, Y/n, I don’t know if you know this, but– you two work at enemy corporations.” She said in an obvious tone.

You let out a small, “Oh yeah.” Making her loudly laugh, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. 

She shook her head, continuing. “He’s literally the son of the CEO of Oscorp Industries.” She laughed, “While you’re working at Stark Industries. It’s a given that he’s going to start acting different since he recently started to work there.” Gwen noticed how you got uncomfortable. You didn’t like speaking about your work. She didn’t like saying it but, she guessed it was because you felt guilty about how you got it. She heard a few rumors.

Gwen didn’t believe them. 

“So, he’s acting weird?” Gwen said, changing the subject back to what you were more comfortable with. “Is this a one time thing? Or, something that’s been constantly happening?” Gwen laid down on her bed, and propped the phone on her desk. 

You sighed, taking a moment to respond. “I don’t know, he just– it's been happening for a few days.” You pouted, “He was always distant from me, so I didn’t really know him until recently. And, when I first met him he seemed fine. Then– then this started happening.” You sighed, leaning on the wall. 

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “Seemed?” 

You sighed, grabbing your phone and walking into your bedroom. Your bedroom mostly dealt with whites and pinks, a good representation of who you were. A cute girl who was kind and soft. Your bedroom was decorated in drawings and paintings. Maybe some pictures you printed out of friends and family. 

The ground was dark hardwood, covered by a fluffy, big, and pink carpet. Your bed was decorated with a white sheet, a small cream blanket over top. Fluffy white pillows on top, and tossed around. It was almost like Eren’s, just way more organized and girly. And, you know, instead of pictures it was your artwork. 

You placed your phone on your desk, and searched for your computer. “Yeah, seemed,” you quickly remarked. You found it in the middle of your sheets. “And, now he’s just acting like everyone else.” You looked to the side, slightly saddened by it. 

“Really?” 

You nodded, opening your computer and shutting the windows that were open. You were doing homework. Then, opening a website. 

“The same as in?…“

“Same as in..” you sighed, trying to think of the words. “It feels like he doesn't see me as a real person anymore.” You pouted lightly, “I'm sure he sees me as this perfect, pretty girl.” You sighed, “When I’m really just a normal boring girl.” If only he knew who you really were.

“Do you like him?” Gwen asked, watching the way you hesitantly shook your head. She bit the inside of her cheek, “I mean, is that necessarily a bad thing?” She said, “I mean, I would want the guy I like to see me like that.” 

You wanted to send a jab at her so, you quickly said, “Just say Peter Parker.” You said, sending an adorable glare at her. You could never look mean. 

Gwen suppressed a laugh, shaking her head. “Y/n, you know me and Peter aren’t anything.” She said playfully. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind that.” 

“Gwen.” You said, slightly whining. “You and Peter are destined to be together. Don’t you think I don’t hear the way you talk about him.” You said, accusingly. A finger up and pointing. “It seems Peter really likes you.” You looked down at your hands for a second. “The real you.” You turned your head to the side slightly, sighing. “The worst part is, the two of you have only been talking. I don’t know how the two of you aren’t in a relationship yet.” 

You stood up, grabbing a picture above your desk. Taking it down from the bulletin and looking at it adoring. It was a picture you drew of Gwen and Peter. “You guys have been talking for a few months, I honestly don’t know why the two of you aren't dating yet.” 

Gwen quickly responded with, “It’s complicated.” She took a moment, collecting herself and sighing, biting her bottom lip. “And, like I said. Peter and I aren’t anything.” She pointed a finger back at you, “But, back to what you were saying. No one in the world is going to know the real you. Only you can.” Gwen said. “Even then, you don’t entirely know that either, we’re still figuring out what we are. Who we want to be, things like that.” Gwen smiled at you, “You can only get comfortable with someone. Comfortable enough to act more like yourself.” 

You sighed, “I guess.” You looked to the side for a moment, trying to recall something. “Wait, didn’t you date Harry for a little?” 

Gwen’s eyebrows furrowed, “What? No?!” She shivered, “I mean, he liked me and we were talking. But, that ended forever ago. Like I said, I’m pretty sure he’s into you.” 

You blinked a few times, “Oh.” 

She laughed, leaning on the palm of her hand. “Uhg, Y/n.” Gwen groaned playfully, “You’re such an idiot.” 

You sent her a glare, making her raise her hands up. Still, a playful smile on her lips. 

“Sorry, is bimbo the better term here?” She rested on her hand, ignoring the rude glare you were giving her. “You were the one who started it by calling yourself that.” 

You groaned, typing something on your computer, “I didn’t even know what that meant.” 

Gwen giggled, “Then, I think that makes it even more ironic.” She smiled, “Definitely not one of your proudest moments.”

You just muttered a small, “Be quiet.” The call went silent for a moment before you spoke. “A boy passed out on me.” 

“What?” 

You giggle softly, nodding your head. “Yeah, It was a surprise but, I didn’t really mind.” You pouted, “Well, I did but– I could’ve been worse. He could’ve thrown up on me, he literally turned white.” You looked to the side smiling, “And, he was kinda’ cute.” You whispered that last part, your cheeks burning. 

“Y/n?” Gwen said playfully, surprised. “That’s a first? I can’t remember the last time you’ve called a guy cute.” She tapped her lip, “If I recall correctly, I think it was high school guy.”

You shook your head, clicking onto a picture on your computer and grabbing your thick sketchbook. Flipping it to a blank page, and grabbing a pen, clicking the button a few times. “Shut up, Gwen. He was just– awkward..” You laughed, scrunching your nose cutely. “And, the good type of awkward.” 

“Oh, you’re so in love.” 

“Oh my god, Gwen.” You whined, “This is why I don’t tell you anything revolving guys, you always assume I’m in love with them.” You crossed your arms over your chest, “I could tell you they killed my parents, and you would still think it’s some weird enemies to lovers situation.” 

“Hey, to be fair, I never bothered you about Harry!” 

You glared at her.

Gwen laughed, nodding her head. “Yeah, whatever you love me.” She tilted her head, wondering what you were doing. “And, what are you doing now?” 

“Some artsy thingy.” You sighed, leaning into your palm. “I love drawing.” 

“I know.” She had a smile, watching you relax into yourself. Lip jutted out in a pout as you tried to think of something to draw. Then, you were drawing on the blank paper. Ignoring Gwen. 

She just laughed, shaking her head. She always envied how you could lose yourself into your art. Block out the entire world with every stroke of the pencil. She smiled, saying a small. “I love you,” before ending the call. Knowing full well you didn’t even hear it.  

You sighed, hearing the phone end. Putting your pencil down, and leaning back in your chair. Grabbing your computer and finishing what you were typing from before. Clicking onto the Email Mr. Stark sent you. Which wasn’t common, since he insisted on calling or texting you. Eyebrows met together as you stared at what was in front of you. 

You were actually going to have to do something different at work. You signed, placing your head on the desk and closing your eyes. You were going to be a tour guide. For someone that shouldn’t even know you work for Stark Industries.  

Eren.

“God, I’m so screwed.” 

╭──────────.★..─╮

         Location: Eren’s Comfy, Raggedy, Apartement…

╰─..★.──────────╯

Eren loudly sighed, getting his keys and squinting at the door lock. Trying his best to see the keyhole, as he inserted the key into his lock. God, he really needed his glasses. Then, forcing his door a certain way to unlock it. Prying the door open. Internally cringing at the loud rumble of the door scraping against the floor.

Eren walked inside his creaky house, and shut the door behind him. Some of the pictures he strung up fluttering due to the movement, then locking the door, placing the keys on the counter. Hearing them clang against the ground, of course they fell to the floor. He really needed his glasses. The worst part being, he probably couldn’t even afford another pair. Not for a while at least. 

He could try calling his Dad, but…

Eren bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. How am I supposed to take notes? He tried not to think about it right now. He just really needed a nap. Maybe, an eternal one. 

“Where have you been?” A voice rang out, “Your interview should’ve ended six hours ago.” 

Eren softly groaned, shaking his head and looking down at the floor in defeat. “You’re right, it should’ve.” He looked at his unwanted guest, smiling, “I’m pretty sure I didn’t get the job.” He let out a small chuckle, leaning on the counter. Hell, he didn’t even get a chance to do the interview.

Eren looked at the door, then to his friend. Feeling his eyebrows mush together for a second, displaying his confusion, “Wait, how’d you even get in?” He pointed at the door, then his guest. “Wait, Harry.. Did you steal my spare key?” Eren let out a sarcastic laugh, putting a hand to his temple. Trying to recall the last time he tried looking for it, then saying to himself, “So I didn’t lose it.”

Harry shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Actually you did, I just happen to be the one who found it.” he flashed a charming smile, winking at Eren. “Pretty convenient, right?” 

Eren rolled his eyes, knowing that Harry probably found it around his apartment and decided to take it. Like what he did with his camera, and sometimes computer. He’d always return it yet, the damage was done. The porn was already found. Not a fun thing to come home to when you know you didn’t exit out of the tabs.

Eren sighed and reached up, opening his cabinet and grabbing something to drink with. Picking out a pink color changing cup, an item he got for free when buying an icy. Turning his head to his unwanted guest and saying, in the most strained way possible, “Thirsty?” 

Harry squinted his eyes at him, crossing his arms over his chest and quickly saying, “Eren, stop deflecting.” He stood up from the couch, “Just, tell me what happened.” He didn’t mean it to be hostile, it just came out the way. Harry felt he couldn’t correct his tone, so he just dealt with the small guilt in his stomach. 

Eren leaned down, resting his hips against the counter. Trying to stabilize himself. “I–“ he sighed, leaning his head back. “I didn’t get the job, Harry.” Eren put the cup down on the counter, trying to breathe. “I didn’t get the job.” Eren said it again, knowing he was just trying to process the sentence in his head. 

I didn’t get my dream job. 

“Eren–“

Eren cut him off, “Harry, I had such a shitty day today.” Eren laughed, looking at Harry. “This day is my thirteenth goddamn reason.” He shook his head, “Like, if I randomly die. It’s because I killed myself.” He shook his head, reaching for his fridge. Grabbing some cold water he stored earlier that day. 

Harry laughed, but quickly covered it with a cough when Eren glared at him. “Hey man, if it ever comes down to that. I’ll jump off the cliff with you.” He obnoxiously sighed, “My fathers been up my ass–” He paused for a second, like he was thinking of something. Soon enough Harry’s eyes lit up, “Wait, you didn’t get the job, right?” He said with a smile.

Eren squinted his eyes at him, putting his water back in the fridge. “Way to rub salt in an open wound.” Eren suppressed a laugh, “Yeah, I didn’t get the job.” 

Harry smiled, “That's good!” Eren quickly sent him a look over the small fridge door, making Harry instantly realize what he did. “No, not good.” He quickly corrected, “I mean, good for you– me.” Harry pressed his lips together, deeply inhaling and exhaling. 

“Take your time, Love.” Eren said coolly. Waving his drink in the air. 

“Shut the fuck up, Eren. I’m trying to help you here.” Harry suppressed a laugh and smile, trying to stay composed and ‘mad’ at Eren. “Since, I am working at Oscorp. I could –I don’t know– get you an interview for a position of some kind?..” Harry sighed, leaning into himself. “I know it probably won’t be something like Stark Industries, but–” 

“No thanks.” Eren said, a smile on his lips as he looked at the drink in his hands. “As much as I appreciate it, Harry, I prefer to work for what I earn. Makes the reward way more satisfying.” Eren felt his eyebrows meet together, his head suddenly booming with pain. Worse than before. “But, thank you Harry. I sincerely appreciate it.” 

Harry smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “Of course.” 

Eren pulled the cup to his lips, drinking the cold liquid. Feeling his headache soften for a second then quickly return. God, this is hell. Eren sighed into the cup, placing it down and deeply inhaling. Trying to relax. “How’s you and Gwen going?” 

Harry sent him a look, “How’s you and Y/n going?” 

Eren raised his eyebrows, quickly inhaling through his teeth. Grimacing. “You wanna’ go first?” He laughed, pushing himself off the counter. Walking towards the living room and looking at some of his pictures. Reminiscing about when he took them.

Harry sighed, “Things just happen and people fall…” He closed his eyes, “..people fall for other people.” 

“She likes someone else now?” Eren said, a smile on his lip. He tried to suppress it. Trying his best not to display his amusement. Something Harry picked up on immediately. 

“No, she doesn’t.” He quickly defended, “Well, I– I just don’t know.” Harry sighed, leaning his shoulder on the wall. Looking at the picture Eren was. “It feels like she’s talking to someone else, or just likes someone else altogether.” He kept his eyes on the pictures in front of him. 

Eren looked at him, “I don’t think so. Gwen seemed really set on you the last time I spoke with her.” He smiled, “So, you could just be over thinking it.” 

“No, I’m not.” He waved his hand, “Besides, I’m talking to another girl now.” Harry took in a deep breath, before releasing it. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Gwen’s talking to–” Harry shook his head, “Yeah, but– enough about me.” He said, a smile on his lips. “What’s happening between you and Y/n?”

Eren sucked in air through his teeth, “Honestly, I think I’m going to bed. My head’s killing me.” 

“Eren.” 

“We can talk about this tomorrow, or in class–” he said, twirling around slowly. 

“Eren.” 

He stopped moving, smiling at Harry. “When we’re going out to eat and–”

“Eren, what happened?” He said, smiling at him. “You always want to talk about Y/n. So, tell me. What happened?” Harry had a sympathetic look.

Eren took a deep breath, smiling and pulling away from the wall. Grabbing the picture he was looking at. Then laughing, accepting the situation he was in. “If I had any chance with her, I threw it down the drain.” He shook his head, laughing sarcastically. “Dude I– I ripped it up, and threw it in her face.” He smiled again, looking at the ground and sighing. He fell on top of you, there’s no coming back from that. So embarrassing. 

Harry scrunched his nose, nodding his head. Looking at his friend's face, “Dude, where’d your glasses go?”

Eren gave him a look that can only be described as, ‘really?’ before speaking, “Now you notice?” He just put his hands into his pockets, walking to the couch and sitting down. Letting his legs spread, and leaning his head back, trying to get comfortable. “It’s a long ass story.” 

Harry shook his head, walking to the couch and sitting next to him. Trying to think of something that would help his friend's mood. “Eren, I know you already said no, but me and Armin are going out to a comic con..” He slowly said, “Do you want to come? Help you get your mind off things?” 

Eren smiled, bringing his head forward and looking at Harry. “I think I’m going to rest.” He laughed, feeling his head throb. “I wasn’t lying when I said my head was killing me.”

Harry nodded, pushing himself off the seat and standing up. Looking at the pictures of you, and then Eren. Feeling himself close his eyes, then sigh. “Alright, I’ll talk to you later?” 

Eren smiled, nodded his head and reached his fist out. Waiting for Harry to hit it. It took him a second, but once it was done he was out of the house. The door creaking shut behind him. 

Eren let his head drop. Closing his eyes, and sighing. Feeling his eyes pearl with tears. Looking up at one of the pictures of you. 

Eren pulled up his phone. Trying to distract himself with YouTube, or some weird video from Instagram that his friend tagged him in. He practically groaned looking through his feed. They were decorated in videos of Jean taunting him. Showing how you needed to get involved. How you, a tiny girl, needed to step into an altercation between two men well over six feet. 

Eren could feel his cheeks burn in embarrassment. Yeah, you definitely didn’t like him now. Eren turned off his phone, placing it face down on the couch. He wished he could just… talk to you. Like a normal person. Like when you two spoke in the beginning of freshman year of college. When Eren wasn’t so– so.. Bleh! 

Actually, he’s pretty sure that was the year Jean’s taunting began. No wait, it was freshman year of high school. How could he forget the years of torment? Freshman year of college is when things got worse.  

Believe it or not, the three of you went to the same high school. But, you were always reading in the library. While Eren was pressed against a locker, getting taunted by Flash and Jean. The two of you lived in different worlds, so Eren had to admire you from afar. 

Which he did enjoy! In fact, you looked unrecognizable from what you did back in high school. Maybe, that’s why Eren didn’t recognize you right away. But, after hearing your voice and kind words, he immediately knew it was you. 

However, Eren misses that version of you. Purely, because it was easier for him to talk to you. Was it selfish? Maybe. But, it was true. 

It started when he was taking a small tour. Walking on this huge, and new campus. 

Thick framed glasses, and a black face mask over his face. A gray hoodie, and black sweatpants covering his body. His hoodie over his head as he looked around. His camera in hand and snapping photos of buildings, scenery, people, and small animals. The natural essence of the school. 

From afar Eren looked kinda’ scary. He assumed that’s why students did their best to keep their eyes to the floor when they passed him. Some even crossed the street to avoid him. He didn’t mind though, Eren was busy doing own thing. 

Eren was adding photos for the school’s freshman collage. Something that people would look at and admire for a few seconds, then return back to their day. Maybe even stare a little longer. Wondering if they were in the background of any photo. Only to walk away when they weren’t. 

Eren didn’t care. He just liked taking photos as a hobby. It was his passion after all. 

Then, he saw you. A girl he had adored since the fourth grade from afar. Someone who kissed his bandaid covered scrap. Someone who drew him flowers when he was down. You were like an angel from above. But, this was how you treated everyone. 

You were walking alone, phone in hand and pressed against your ear as you spoke to someone. Wearing the most fashionable clothing on the market, walking in heels he didn’t even know were possible to shimmy in. Yet, there you were. Strutting like a model. 

A skirt which would become your thing as time went on. A plain white T-shirt, and plain zip-up jacket. Some simple silver jewelry and black gloves. Another article of clothing that seemed to be your thing. You were about to walk past him, before you flashed him a soft smile. Stopping and pointing at his camera, titling your head in curiosity. 

Eren blinked at you, confused. 

One, Eren literally looked like he stole things for a living as of right now. Two, why were you pointing at him?

You noticed, and quickly said, “Let me call you back, Honey.” Ending the call, and putting your phone in your purse, smiling at him. “Your thingy,” you said, pointing at his camera. “Are you one of those people who take cool snapshots?” You innocently asked, pressing a few strands of hair behind your ear. Tilting your head at him. 

Eren let out a small laugh, trying to recall the last time he spoke to you. High school graduation, maybe?.. “My camera.” He said, pointing at it. “And no, I’m not a photographer.” Eren gripped his camera a little tighter. “It’s just a hobby.” He added.

“That’s so cute!” You smiled at him, “Can I see some of your photos?” You asked, hands coming up to pretend you were holding a camera. Taking a few pictures of your own, as you took a step closer, looking back at his hands. 

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. Confused on why such a –stupidly– cute girl was talking to him. Most importantly, why you, of all people, were talking to him. And, of all the things in the world, his pictures. His embarrassing hobby. 

It took you a moment, maybe a bit longer than it should’ve to realize how invasive your question was. “Wait!” You raised both your hands in the air. Expressing your distress, “That sounds really weird, I mean–“ you cleared your throat. A black gloved hand over your mouth as you did so. A small embarrassed laugh while you scratched your cheek. “When I was younger,” you started, “I always wanted to try and be the thing you said–“ 

“A photographer?” Eren asked, raising an eyebrow. “They’re called photographers, Love.” Where the hell did Eren get the confidence to say that?

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname, a feeling you haven’t felt in awhile. Before smiling and nodding your head. “Yeah, a photographer!” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I always forget what they’re called…” You whispered that last part. “It’s like a dead dream at this point, but I’m still awed by the profession.” You had an awkward smile. Your index fingers fiddling together. 

You placed both of your hands behind your back. Your head tilted up to look directly at Eren. “And, it’s such a beautiful day.. It would be horrible not to take some pictures of the scenery.” You pointed at his camera. 

Eren nodded, “So, you want me to show you my photos?” He looked around, then back at you. “And, take some pictures with you?” 

You had wide eyes, a beaming smile as you nodded. “Yes, exactly.” You clasped your hands behind your back.  

Oh my god, this is literally the cutest girl ever. Was his first thought. The second was, Oh my god. There literally isn’t a single thought behind those adorable eyes. 

Eren looked to the side, his hand coming to the back of his neck. Thinking about it. I haven’t taken any bad photos, I think. Eren nodded, still unsure before answering. “Uhm, sure?” He took the strap off his neck, lowering the camera to your eyesight. Clicking on his collection and recents folder. You got closer to him, pressing your shoulder to his arm. 

Eren could smell you. Vanilla, and something sweet— almost fruity. He forced a smile, trying to hide the slow blush on his ears. He flipped the screen to your face, “These are some I took today.” 

Your eyes were fixated on the images in front of you. Wide and astonished by the images he was showing. You looked at him, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Woah! You did this?!” 

I mean, it is my camera. Despite that thought circling his head. It sounded like you were in disbelief. Smiling as you looked back at Eren with an adoring smile on your face. 

“You’re so talented.” You quietly whispered.

Eren could feel the tension in his face relax. His lips parting ever so slightly, his heavy heart lifting with admiration. It felt like someone somehow threw him in his elementary body, making him relive his first interaction with you. His cheeks burning with embarrassment as you softly kissed his palm. Explaining that; It heals faster with love!

This was you. Y/n standing directly in front of him. He almost didn’t recognize you. 

Eren shook his head, and straightened his posture again. He had a kind smile, nodding at you. “T-Thanks.” He could feel his mouth slowly turning into mush. Unable to speak properly with every word. 

You felt your body freeze for a moment, staring at the kind giant in front of you. Your hands holding onto each other behind your back as you smiled at him, nodding your head. 

Suddenly, it felt like Eren watching you– change?.. Only for a second.

“Don’t thank me for telling the truth.” You softly said, turning your face away. You reached your hand out, still turned away from him. “I’m Y/n.” You softly said, “L/n.” You added. 

I know that, Eren thought. “Well, I’m–“ 

Your phone rang, causing him to stop talking. You gave him an embarrassed, and apologetic look. Grabbing it, and looking at the username. You bit your bottom lip, shoving it back in your bag and ignoring it. “My bad,” you softly said, but you quickly cleared your throat. Pointing at his camera, “Uhm, if you don’t mind.” You slowly said, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Could you take some fancy photos of me.” You looked to the side, then back to him. 

Eren hesitated, blinking at you. 

You flinched, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to! I mean, I just thought it could be fun or–“

“Yeah,” Eren quickly said, his camera close to his face, and clicking through the storage. “I have more than enough room, and time to kill.” He looked back up, smiling at you. “It seems like a fun way to burn time.” 

You smiled, nodding your head. “Yay! I get to–” you slowly trailed off, not knowing the word. 

Eren laughed, “Model, you get to model, Love.”

You giggled, nodding your head. Walking closer to him and asking, “Alright, now.” You said, leaning to the side and looking around. Trying to find a place for pictures. 

“How about there?” Eren said, pointing to an open field. A beautiful flower tree in the middle. “It’s shady, and a pretty location.” He slowly walked towards it, checking behind him to see if you were following. 

You were nodding your head in approval. Trying to speed up due to how fast he walked. Probably because of how tall he was. “Hey, what are you studying?” You asked, standing in front of the tree, and looking up. Seeing the pretty flowers on display. 

Eren brought his camera to his face, trying to fix the lenses. Clicking a few buttons with his thumb. “I’m majoring in Biophysics.” He said, smiling once he got the lenses where he wanted. 

You leaned on the tree looking at him. “What’s that about?” You held your purse between your legs, swinging it back and forth slightly. 

Eren furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think of a way to explain it. “It’s science, and physics.” He said, raising the camera up, and pointing it at you. Adjusting the way he was standing to try and get a better angle, “Uhm, could you try to pose?” 

You nodded, leaned back into the tree and placing your hand into your hair. Grabbing a strand, and looking to the side, trying to pose. 

Eren suppressed a laugh, clicking the button and capturing a few photos. 

“So, what is physics?” You innocently asked. 

Eren lowered his camera for a second, his eyebrows together. “Wait? You attend this school, right?” 

You blinked, lowering your hand and nodding your head. Slightly confused, “Uh, yeah?..” 

Eren slowly nodded his head, “Don’t you need like a 3.7 gpa to attend?” 

You blinked at him, shrugging. Muttering out a small, “Maybe? I don’t know?” You removed your jacket, placing it on the floor and sitting on it. “My Dad helped me get into this school.” You reached for the hair-tie in your hair and removed it. Letting your hair fall around your head, perfectly framing your face. 

Eren paused, feeling his face heat up. His heart beating, you definitely didn’t look like that before. He couldn’t even recall if you wore fitted shirts in high school. He blinked a few times, raising the camera to his face and saying, “You’re pretty.” 

You blinked at him. Feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. Opening your mouth to speak, but finding your throat dry. You just forced a sentence out, “Uhm, you too.” You thoughtlessly said. You could feel your mind mentally slap yourself. You too? You wanted to jump off a building from your stupid mouth.

Eren blushed, hiding his face. Nodding his head and whispering, “Thanks.” Trying his best to ignore the feeling building in his chest. 

You just nodded, looking away. Making it look like it was part of your pose. You continued from where you left off. “My Dad has a few connections to the school, so I didn’t need to do much to get in.” You posed your legs, placing your hands on them, and leaned forward. Taking a moment to look at Eren. 

Once you did you smiled at him. Trying to get a good photo. 

Eren nodded again, snapping the photos and then lowering his camera. Then, checking the two different images. Trying to see which one was better. 

You stood up from the ground, wiping the dirt from your legs and ass, before standing close to him. You didn’t notice how good he smelled. You leaned on his arm, your chest pressed against him, as you looked at the photos. Trying to see which of the two poses you liked best. You sighed, pouting and looking up at him. “I don’t really like them.” 

Eren flinched, surprised by your bluntness. “I’m sorry, I probably should’ve–“ 

“No, no!” You quickly cut him off, “I just don’t like the way I look in them.” You softly said, “But, the actual photo is beautiful.” You grabbed his arm, leaning closer to the camera. “The scenery, flowers, and lighting.” You smiled, “I just feel like I’m out of place.” 

“You’re not.” Eren said, suddenly losing his capability to speak. “I think you fit perfectly. In fact, I think you look so perfect, the world looks out of place when you smile.” He was looking at you now, his face red. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. Looking to the side then to his green eyes. “I think you’d fit…” you found the words stuck in your throat, so you switched them with something else. “..really well, too.” 

You don’t know what was more embarrassing. The nonsense you just said. Or, the way you didn’t know what to say. Actually, it was both. “You should let me take some pictures!” You said, way louder than you intended. You suppress a face, trying not to obviously cringe. “Of you.” You added. 

You couldn’t even see what he looked like with his mask, and from his silence it couldn’t be good. Right? Goodness, why would I say that? You thought. 

Eren had the same thought but in a different font. It was something more like, I look like shit, but I appreciate the thought. 

You pressed your lips together. Feeling your face heat up as he just looked at you. Suddenly, you felt really embarrassed. Shutting your eyes, and trying to keep calm. 

“Uhm, sure.” Eren looked at the camera. 

You were surprised he said yes. You perked, a huge smile on your face as you jumped. “Oh my gosh! Really? I was just messin’ around, but!..” You stopped talking, just letting out an excited noise. Making Eren smile with you. 

His heart melted at the way you eagerly explained what type of pose you wanted him to do. Eren just nodded, removing the camera strap from his next and placing it in your small hands. Trying to follow what you just told him. Eren’s heart was beating as quickly as possible as he did so. Butterflies swarming his stomach. 

Eren awkwardly leaned on the tree, while you placed the camera strap around your neck. Holding it as you tried figuring out how to use it. Eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, just observing the delicate item. Trying not to touch anything in fear of breaking it. 

You just ended up pointing it at him, and gesturing at the button on top. Looking at Eren and asking, “This is the button I press, right?” 

Eren smiled, nodding his head. Letting his right leg go in front of the left, and putting his hand on his lower hip. Letting it dip under the hoodie he was wearing. His head tilted to the side, and slightly pointed down. Looking at you through his glasses. 

You blinked a few times, feeling your face heat up as you pointed the camera at him. Wanting to give him a small warning before you took the photo. So, you said, “Smile.” And snapped one singular photo. You paused for a moment, letting your words sleep into your head. Smile?… He’s wearing a mask, Y/n. You thought to yourself. 

Eren snorted, trying not to laugh as he looked away. Unfortunately, he was failing miserably. Making your face worsen. It felt like it was on fire. 

You pouted, lowering the camera and pointing at his face. “Actually take off you face thingy–“ 

“Mask.” He said through laughs, making you playfully giggle. 

“Take off your mask, so I can actually take a picture of you.” You paused for a second, “Actually, take your hoodie off too!” You said, pointing a finger at him. “We’re modeling, you can’t model with things covering your face.” 

Eren shook his head, letting out a small, “Fine,” and lowering his mask. Removing his hoodie to reveal his long, and slightly messy hair to you. 

You could feel yourself blink, captivated by the man in front of you. Who happened to be very attractive. Strong jaw, stunning emerald eyes, and long shiny hair. Strong shoulders and a kind face, one that made you melt in your spot. 

He was so pretty. 

“I love your hair.” You mindlessly muttered. You could feel your hand twitch at your side, wanting to caress his face. Maybe, move a strand in front of his eyes. 

Eren gave you a goofy yet faltered smile, saying a small, “Thanks?” You watched as he pushed a strand of hair. Only for it to fall back into place. 

You giggled, dropping the camera to let it hang from your neck and getting close to him. “Wait! No, I have an idea.” You raised your hand, motioning to yourself. Silently telling him to get closer. He did, standing in front of you. You pouted, doing the same motion from before, and making him lean down to your height. 

You smiled, leaning forward and grabbing all his hair. Bringing it to the back of his head, and trying to fix it up for him. Biting your lip in concentration as you used your left hand to grab the pink hair tie around your wrist and tying his hair up. The specific pink hair tie you were just previously using. 

You, while doing this, didn’t know what you were putting Eren through. While you oh so kindly were putting his hair up, you were also forcing his face directly in the beautiful sight of your boobs. Practically smothering him. 

His whole face was red when you were done. Pulling back and grabbing a few of his baby hairs to frame his face. Smiling once you finished. Still oblivious to what just happened. You raised your two hands, making your index and thumb form a box. Closing one of your eyes, and raising it to him. Making the border come around his face.  

“Okay, perfect!” You exclaimed, walking backwards and smiling. Bringing the camera to your face and pointing it at Eren. “Pose, Love!” You shouted, waiting for him to follow the command. 

Eren blinked a few times, hoping he still wasn’t blushing and going back to the tree. Posing like before. He found himself even more embarrassed than before. In fact, it felt like he was posing even more awkwardly, than before. 

You smiled, snapping a few photos and giggling. Saying softly, “You should be a model,” as you lowered the camera. “Okay, different pose!” You pointed at him dramatically, “Go!” 

Eren felt his eyebrows mush together, any thoughts in his head blanking. As he clumsily moved his hands in front of his body. Trying to make a pose with that. 

You giggled at his graceless movements, but waited for him to settle on something he was comfortable with. He looked up, trying to gain your approval for the pose he was doing. You nodded your head, giving him a thumbs up as you crinkled your nose cutely. Bring the camera to your face and adjust the way you stood, before your gloved finger clicked on the button. The camera shuttered as it captured the image in front of it. “Now…” You said thoughtfully, “Fake– like?.. A laugh! Fake a laugh.” 

Eren’s eyebrows came together quickly, before he chuckled. Trying to fake a laugh. You shook your head disapprovingly, “No, like– laugh, laugh.” You forced a big smile, then obviously faked a laugh. 

Eren scoffed playfully, obviously faking a laugh like you did. 

You quickly raised the camera up and captured the sight. You couldn’t help but grow warm at the smile that spread across his face. You nodded, lowering the device and bringing it to your eyes. Trying to glance at the photos. 

Eren walked up to you, trying to see the photos. He just decided he’d glance at them once you handed him the camera. It’d be too much of a hassle to crane his neck to look at them. 

You raised your gloved hand, trying to block the sun from the screen so it wouldn’t produce such a glare. You laughed, “Oh my gosh! You look so cute!” You looked at him, jumping up slightly. Hands clapping together. 

Eren forced a smile back, feeling his ears heat up again. He didn’t like how often he was starting to blush. “Thanks.” He voiced, lifting his hand to the back of his neck. 

You looked at him, feeling your face heat up. Seeing the way his ear and face was dusted in a light pink. You just simply nodded. Playing with the cotton of your gloves. “Yeah, whatever.” You whispered. You bit your bottom lip. Wanting to suppress the words bubbling in your throat. “Uhm,” you sheepishly said, pulling both of your gloved hands behind your back. Clasping them together in an act to comfort yourself.Trying to hide the way they were shaking. “I– Would you want to go on a–“

“Y/n!” You flinched at your name. Caught off guard by the loud noise, before turning and seeing Jean not too far away from you. You immediately pulled your hands in front of you, waving in the most obnoxious way and shouting “Hi, Jean!” In a happy light voice.

Eren noticed how immediately you changed back to the person that first approached him. You probably just got embarrassed. It happens to the best of us. And, it was kind of cute. You could be the most intelligent person in the world, and still freak out about a cute girl. He would know.

Wait, does that mean you found him.. cute?..

You looked back at the Eren, conflicted for a moment. “Let me get your number, so we can ta–“

You were cut off by an arm wrapped around your neck. “Y/n, we’ve been looking for you.” 

You turned to Jean, blinking at him innocently. “But, I was gone for like a second.” You playfully mumbled, poking Jean’s cheek. 

Jean’s eyes went to Eren, tilting his head at him. Looking at you and asking with a kind smile, “Who’s this?” Eren didn’t miss how Jean’s energy practically matched yours. Up-beat and inviting. 

Where the hell was the guy who tormented him back in high school. And, how the hell did an Angel like you, know a devil like Jean?

You looked back at Eren, your skin heating up slightly. “Uhm,” You pressed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just some boy I was talking to...” Jean didn’t miss the way your hands fiddled together when you said that. 

Jean’s eyebrows raised, looking at him again. Biting the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t recall the last time you’ve spoken to someone, and not introduced them to him. 

What was so special about this guy?

Jean hid his scowl, finding himself growing… jealous. Why were you getting so flustered over this piece of shit? You never reacted like this around him. What was so special about the gross nerd in front of you two? 

“Y/n, pretty sure Sasha was calling you.” He said, smiling at you kindly. “You should probably go tell her you’re okay, she’s by the fountain.” That was a lie, he had no fucking clue where Sahsa was. 

You parted your lips, looking to the side and thinking. You didn’t hear your phone ringing. You ended up just nodding your head. You turned back to the tall boy, “Here.” You softly said, removing the camera from your neck, and handing it back to him. Smiling and wrinkling your nose for a second. “C’ya!” You turned on your heel, and waved goodbye. 

Quickly telling Jean you were going to look for Sasha, before walking to the fountain. A place you couldn’t seem to remember for the life of you. Did this school even have a fountain? You grabbed your phone checking your notifications, seeing that you didn’t have any missed calls. You let out a small, “Hm.” While continuing your way to the fountain. You mind still on the boy who took your picture. 

You could feel yourself pout. I didn’t get his name. 

Jean glanced over his shoulder, watching as you walked away. Almost bumping into a trash can. Bless your heart. But god, you were something else.

Eren continued looking at you, a smile on his face. Maybe, he liked you a little more than he liked to admit. With how kind, and almost airheaded you were. He strangely found it cute. Your name echoed through his head. 

Y/n. 

It felt like he was back in elementary. 

Eren was sure everyone would know your name before the semester ended. You just had that aura. That magnetic pull that people liked. 

Jean‘s eyes darkened as he looked at Eren. “What’s your name?” 

Eren’s eyes went to Jean, “Don’t pull that shit on me, you know my name. Eren Yeager.” He said. Putting the camera strap around his neck, and bringing the screen to his face. Trying to look at the photos you took. A part of him was excited to see them. Even if they didn’t look the best. 

Jean watched, scowling slightly. He thought back to you. Seeing the way you placed both hands behind your back, looking up at Eren and smiling sweetly. You didn’t do that with him. So, he just forced the words out. “She likes you,” Jean’s eyes landed on Eren. Searching for a reaction, “It’s obvious.” 

Eren thickly swallowed, shaking his head. Finding his heart speeding up at the idea of you being interested in him. “I– I really doubt it.” 

Jean laughed, shaking his head. “God, you’re almost as bad as her. She does, believe me.” He sighed, putting a hand behind his neck, “Which sucks when she’s my girlfriend.” 

Eren grimaced, even if he hated Jean. He wasn’t a home wrecker. Eren took a step back and immediately spouting, “Sorry, I’ll make sure to–“

Jean scoffed, licking his teeth and harshly stating, “Don’t make sure to. You will.” Jean said, taking a step in his direction. “Or, I’ll make your pathetic lonely life, hell.” 

Eren flinched, caught off guard by the male hostility. Seeing that his whole personality changed while you were gone. 

Jean gave a charming smile, turning on his heel and walking to the fountain. He slowed down, leaning his head back and peering over his shoulder, dimples taunting Eren. As he gave a taunting wave, “C’ya.”

Eren blinked in shock. Watching the dirty blonde male walk after you. Placing a hand on your lower back and laughing at something you said. Passing a hostile glance in Eren’s direction before looking back at you. Disappearing behind a building. 

Eren sighed, looking back at his camera and pressing his lips together. Feeling his eyes close for a moment. A heaviness in his chest. He pressed a button on his camera, glancing at the pictures you took. Walking to a bench and sitting down on it. His left hand going up and blocking the sun from the screen like you once did. Trying to glance at the new collection of photos. 

Eren scoffed at the bad pictures. Some of the images weren’t even focused on him, or were just awkwardly blurry. They were so bad. Eren laughed, looking at the sky and shaking his head. 

So, why was he smiling? Why was Eren still flipping through the camera's photos? Smiling fondly while his face was beat red. Feeling butterflies erupt in his stomach as he looked through the photos of you. 

He felt his finger pause on a photo of him. 

When he was fake laughing. When you told him to fake laugh. Now, this was a good photo. The camera was focused on him, the background slightly blurred. A hand over his mouth as he laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkled. His ears and nose were tinted in red. His cheeks are a similar color, displaying his blush quite proudly. 

He actually– really liked the photo. 

He smiled, shutting the flap on his camera. 

Actually, Eren had really, really, liked you. 

A girl he knew since 4th grade. 

A girl he never even thought he could talk to. Until now.

Eren glanced at the ceiling, the sky of the sunny day turning into his apartment’s shelf. A shiny necklace hanging off the edge. Actually, it was just a cheap beaded one. He laughed briefly, closing his eyes and sighing. Trying to relax.

Eren felt something… odd?.. 

Like, his brain was tingling? Maybe, vibrating softly? It was uncomfortable, really uncomfortable. Jesus Christ what the hell was happening? It felt like he had his eyes open, like he was aware of everything in the room. He felt his hand raise, stopping right in front of his face and catching something. 

Eren slowly opened his eyes, peering at his fisted hand. Seeing he caught an award in his hand. The award was on the edge of the shelf. Wrapped around the shiny beaded necklace. “I caught it?..” he muttered, “With my eyes closed.” He laughed briefly, placing the award on the couch. Looking at it, then back to the shelf above his couch. 

“Okay, this is fucking weird.” He whispered, standing up and turning to the couch. Running his hand through his hair. When suddenly, the sensation returned. Unfortunately, this time it wasn’t to the top of his head. It was the left.

His window. 

“Okay,” he softly said, “is the window going to fall or?..” he would’ve laughed at himself, but it felt like this was a serious situation. Eren really didn’t know if his window was going to fall or something. 

He flinched when he heard a knock. On the window?.. Eren slowly walked towards it, pulling back the thin cheap curtain and looking outside. He could feel his heart stop when he saw who it was. 

Tony fucking Stark. 

Eren clumsily pulled open the window, holding it up while he freaked out. His thoughts scrambled while his mouth went dry. Question upon question filling his head. “I– what are you?— Why are you here?!–“ was the only thing that came out. 

“Clam down, kid. Promise this will go by quickly.” Tony said, raising his hand and trying to calm him down. In his ion suit, flying in the middle of a run down apartment, speaking to a random college student. God, this was so weird. 

“What will..” Eren felt his head blank. Holy fuck, Tony Stark is at my apartment. “Go by quick?..” he slowly said, using his whole willpower to muster the words.

Stark tilted his head, and looked inside the small apartment. Pointing at it and saying nonchalantly, “Can I come in?” 

Eren just nodded, sliding his body to the side and holding up the window. Allowing the ironed man to enter his living room. Tony nodded his head and entered the room, placing his feet to the floor and clicking his chest. His iron suit reversing. 

Eren watched diligently, whispering– “Nanotechnology.” 

Tony turned his head, letting out a small, “Hm?” Before nodding his head, “Oh yeah, good eye kid.” He hovered his hand over his chest, “I wanted to upgrade, had some friends in Wakanda help me make it.” He looked around the room, looking at the photos. “But, uh..” 

When suddenly his eyes landed on a picture of you. 

“Oh, you know L/n?” He laughed, walking to the picture and holding it. “Interesting girl that one is, right?” He turned his head up, looking at the rest of the photos of you. Suddenly rethinking his words He knew kids took photos of things they liked, but this was excessive. “Or?.. should I be asking if she knows you?..” 

Tony felt his eyebrows furrow, maybe this isn’t a good idea..

“She knows me..” Eren slowly admitted, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Just.. not as well as I know her.” 

Tony would’ve laughed, but found himself forcing a smile and nodding. “Uh-huh. Right.” He confirmed. “Anyways, I’m not here for your weird obsession with my right hand man. I’m here for you.” He reached into his pocket, grabbing something. 

Eren watched Tony’s hand reach into his pocket and pull out his glasses. His eyes widened, reaching out for the thick lenses. “My glasses..” he slowly said, taking them into his hands and looking at them. The lenses cracked. He cringed. That was going to be a major financial drain. Which he really didn’t have the money for. 

Eren nodded and raised them to his eyes, seeing as his vision worsened under them. He squinted his eyes, surprised. Before removing them and looking around. Seeing as his vision was… perfect without them. 

Wait, when did that happen? He was literally struggling to open his door not too long ago…

“But, I’m guessing you don’t need them anymore.” Tony tilted his head, and raised his eyebrows. “Right?” 

Eren slowly nodded his head. “Right.” He slowly confirmed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Utterly confused by why Tony Stark was in his living room. And how the hell his vision was somehow perfect. 

Tony didn’t let Eren comment further, just sat down on his couch. “So, they’re yours?” Eren nodded, confirming. “Good.” Tony then glared at him, “So, you want to tell me why they were in a restricted area?” He tilted his head, “Hm?” 

Eren felt his mouth go dry, his mind blanking. For like the millionth time today. Trying to desperately recall the events that took place at Stark Industries. “I– uhm.” Tony nodded, staring at Eren with his hand supporting his head. Not saying anything, and waiting for Eren to give his response. Eren closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and speaking. “I was hiding from someone.” He admitted.

Tony nodded his head, not saying anything so Eren would continue. A trick he learned from Levi not too long ago. Eren continued, “And someone that worked there was passing by, so I grabbed their..” He looked to the side sheepishly. “Then, I went inside.” 

“And, was that it? Or?..” 

“Some people were entering the room, and I went into what I thought was a closet or something, then I was met with racks of…” he shuttered. “..Spiders.” Eren raised his hand up, showing Tony the bit mark. “Then, I got bit by one and –you know– passed out.” He laughed, but it soon turned into a grimace. 

Jesus Christ he passed out on you.

Eren walked to the couch, taking a seat and sighing. “Then, my hands got stuck to the bedding and I had this weird.. awareness?” He raised his hand, gesturing to his head. “My head got all tingling like some weird–“ 

“Spider-sense.” Tony sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “It’s called Spider-sense.” He opened his eyes, looking back at Eren’s hand. “The spider that you got bitten by wasn't a regular one.”

Eren shuttered again. “Oh my god, don’t even remind me.” He closed his eyes, trying not to think of the small parasite running over his body. “I’m sorry, I just hate spiders. Can’t stand them.”

Tony stifled a laugh, finding the irony in his statement. The next Spider-man hates spiders. “Eren,” he started calmly, not wanting to freak him out. “That was a radioactive spider.” 

Eren’s eyes shot open. His heart pumping quickly, mind racing as he rushed his words out. Almost choking on them. “Am– Am I going to die?!”

Tony shook his head, suppressing his smile. He didn’t want to embarrass the kid. “No, you’re not going to die.” He reassured. But, he still wasn’t completely sure. He was hoping for the best of this situation, a hero. 

Eren laughed, slowly nodding his head. Trying to ease his tension. “No– no, you know what. Let's forget about it.” Eren waved his hand dismissively. “I’m– I’m sorry, but..” He smiled, “Why are you here?..” He said, trying to desperately change the subject.

Tony loudly laughed, “Oh yeah, forgot.” He smiled, extending his hands slightly. A blue projection emerged from his hand. Displaying a few words. “You got the job!” He smiled, “Yay.” 

Eren blinked. Eyes moving from the small projection and to Tony’s face. 

“What.” 

Tony raised his hand dismissively, removing the projection and shaking his head. “Jesus, kid. You got the job, you’re going to be the new intern.” Tony placed his hand on his hip. “I can’t remember the last time we actually had an intern, actually, I think it was with Bambi.“ He shook his head, waving his hand. “Anyways, you got the job. We’ll have you moved in by like..” his eyes drifted to the side, thinking. “By tomorrow, that works, right? Of course it does.” Tony pushed himself off the couch, rolling out his shoulder. He clicked his chest again, his suit gliding over his skin. It was fascinating to see. Eren wished he had one of his own. 

Eren shook his head, Tony’s finally processing. “I got the job.” He was saying it more to himself than anyone. He turned, placing his hands to his head. “I got the job!” He laughed, leaning on his wall. Smiling brightly as he looked at Tony. “I got the job!” He felt his smile loosen, his eyebrows mushing together. “Why did I get the job?” 

Tony laughed. His mask settling over his face, “Circumstance.” His voice changed due to his mask. Something that was found to be iconic by the public. He walked to the window, “I’ll have my man Happy contact you tomorrow.” 

Eren’s eyebrows came together. “Tomorrow? I have class– Why are you contacting me tomorrow?” 

Tony laughed, “We’re moving you.” He said in an obvious tone. “I can’t have my workers working in–“ He paused, his head moving around the room slightly. “Something not approved by me.” He opened the window, “See you at work kid.” He was about to fly away when he snapped his fingers. “Oh! Also..” he paused, thinking for a second, “You’re, superhuman now! You got powers.” He put a thumbs up and winked. 

And like that, he was gone. 

Eren blinked, “What.” 

『 END OF VOLUME ONE: ORIGINS.. 』: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Chapter 2: Relieved Tension.

[robinchan-hananomi]

I’m very glad the One Piece live action left Rika and Gin in, even if it scrapped most of their story lines.

Luffy grew up watching and admiring Shank’s crew. And to be honest, Shanks is the only REAL pirate crew Luffy had much exposure to growing up. (Blue jam could be considered too, but he was operating more like a bandit by the time the brothers were assisting him than sea pirates). Because of them, Luffy had rather romantic ideas of what a pirate should be. They should be people who live to party, who eat and drink while singing and overall being in a celebratory mood. He saw them as free and adventurous spirits, who traveled the world chasing dreams and treasure.

But one other thing Shanks really taught Luffy, was his code. Luffy isn’t a hero. Technically he isn’t a ‘good guy’ either. Luffy will help someone who needs it, but usually it’s because he’s effected in some way. He befriended someone, he liked the attitude someone showed, he wanted some food, ect. Luffy doesn’t go out of his way to liberate countries like the Revolutionaries but he also doesn’t stand by and watch people suffer or be hurt either.

Luffy became a pirate with the goal in mind to have a crew better than Shank’s. That meant all the people in the crew had to be ‘good’ people in the way Luffy saw real pirates being. People who wanted dreams and adventures, not to pillage or harm others. People who would follow Luffy’s path but also not be afraid to tell Luffy what they need to tell him to keep him from veering off too. And with all that in mind, Luffy was actually pretty careful in his crew selection, especially in the beginning.

Usopp was originally turned down (to be Captain by Usopp’s own offer) before the crew saw what he could do and brought him in. Nami was also someone Luffy saw a bit in action before he fully cemented his ideas on her too. But Zoro and Sanji were the ones that we really see the moment where Luffy decided he cannot have his crew without them.

When Luffy was first talking about and to Zoro, he even said he wasn’t sure if he would invite Zoro to join his crew. Luffy’s attention was definitely captured when he saw Zoro not only attempt to chase Rika away from the marine’s grounds before she was spotted but then eating the disgusting rice balls and telling Luffy to inform Rika that not only had Zoro eaten all of it, but that he liked it. Now Luffy had no way of knowing that Zoro hated sweets at that time, but he did know the rice was full of dirt and mud and it wasn’t good due to Helmeppo’s reaction. Luffy knew that Zoro was doing it to be kind to Rika. Then Rika told Luffy about how Zoro was only in the situation because not only did he protect Rika, a complete stranger, but he also gave himself up in her place to be punished! Zoro had actually put himself at risk to protect a little girl and despite the danger he was in, he still prioritized the strange girl’s feelings above his own welfare. Luffy had realized that at his core, Zoro was a kind and honorable man and adamantly refused to leave Shell’s Town without Zoro.

Then Luffy had already met Sanji and was interacting with him, but Luffy didn’t show any interest in Sanji as a crew member until the incident with Gin. Gin had already presented himself as a threat, pointing a gun at the cooks and threatening to shoot them for food. Yet Sanji showed great kindness, compassion, and empathy for Gin by going into the kitchen and making Gin something to eat. Sanji couldn’t stand by and watch a man suffer while the other cooks had been content to toss Gin out and wash their hands of him. And when Luffy saw Sanji feed Gin, Luffy had said right then that he had found his cook.

I am sad we didn’t get many characters that we loved in the live action, but I honestly don’t think you could show Luffy’s recruitment of Zoro and Sanji without Rika and Gin.

[lucinatta]

GIRL OK I'm going to vent. If u want to read that'd be great cause I want to know if I'm in the wrong here lol. It's long tho so no need <3

Last monday was my birthday, it's a sucky day to have as a bday so what I did was invite my friends over for dinner on sunday, wait till midnight, blow the candles, eat some cake, open presents, and send everyone on their way at about 1 am so all of us could sleep relatively early. These were like, my "important" birthday plans, because they happened on my actual birthday. I invited my closest friends + 2 girls my friends have been dating for about 7/8 months, because a) I like them! and b) I knew they were spending that weekend over at my friends' places anyway so bringing them was easier than not.

Context for later: The 2 friends with the girlfriends are male, those are the only 2 partners that are external to the friend group, there's 9 of us, and we've been friends for about 10 years.

Anyway, so when I set that plan up on the gc, I explicitly asked both my friends to bring their girlfriends. They told me they would, they did, everything went great. After sunday's plan, I proposed we go out to dinner and then for drinks this saturday so I could have like proper bday plans that don't get cut short because everyone has to get up early for work. Everyone said they could come. Great, no issues so far.

Issues start yesterday, in a gc I'm NOT in that my friends made so they could discuss my present for sunday + a surprise cake (that now I know about lol) for saturday. This is not uncommon, we have bday groupchats for everyone in the group. One of my friends (girl) proposes the surprise cake, and apparently one of my male friends says that his gf can make the cake (as a gift) because she works as a baker. My friend (girl) says that it's not a good idea, since it be weird to have her make a cake for a plan she's not invited to. Apparently this caught both my male friends off guard, because they were under the impression that both their gfs were invited and had already told them about the plan. Now, to be clear, I didn't invite them and at no point did I imply they were invited. Not necessarily because I didn't want them there specifically, but rather because I wanted a night out with just my friends. These 2 girls come to a lot of our plans as a group, but when they do it's because we either tell them to, or our friends ask if they can come. NEITHER OF THESE 2 THINGS HAPPENED!! I want to clarify though, I didn't and still don't feel strongly about them not coming, and if it had been up to me, I would have liked both my friends to reach out to me and let me know that they had misunderstood, that they thought the girls were invited and that they had already invited them, and I would have told them to bring them!! like it really wasn't a big deal. Instead they got upset and told their girlfriends that they couldn't come because I DIDN'T WANT THEM THERE, which sounds sooooo much more drastic than what it actually is. So I find myself in a very shitty situation with NO WARNING (because again, this started in a gc I'M NOT IN!!!), when one of my friends sends me this really long message about how sad and hurt he is and asking me if I'm mad a him or his gf or whatever, and how he had hoped that I would think of her as my friend after all this time. To clarify she's not my friend, she's my friend's gf (that I really like!!), and "all this time" is 8 months lmao. Now these 2 girls think that I hate them, and I have to apologize for something I DIDN'T DOOOOOO. Like this wasn't my misunderstanding, I wasn't even on the gc!! and like what options do I have, realistically? Telling them to backtrack and invite them back gives major "you can come, IF YOU WANT" vibes and I hate that, and telling them that, no, they're not invited sounds like I don't like them or want them there. Like both my options suck.

Things have smoothed over now with my friends but I know they're mad about their gfs being hurt and SO AM I but like, it's not my fault!!! They (my friends) assumed they (their gfs) were invited when they weren't!! But again, it wasn't something I felt strongly about! like honest to god idk why they didn't just tell me they had invited them because they thought they were invited before stirring the pot behind my back. Now everything's a mess and things are tense because the rest of the gc sided with me. And I'm not gonna lie I'm kinda mad that they made this my problem on my bday week. Like couldn't you have waited a week to bring it up?? Anyway that's it lmao

[weird-science14]

I LOVE Tangled Before Ever After SO MUCH !! It’s story is great and sets up the series extremely well but I love everything it represents in just an hour!

You are allowed to be sad, angry, etc even if you “should be happy”! Happiness is not a constant you will experience negative emotions and you are allowed to feel and express them! I love Rapunzel’s conflict in this!! The internal battle of not feeling content with her life in the castle due to how limited her freedom is thinking she should be happy because this is supposed to be her happily ever after she doesn’t feel like she should be sad! Yes her situation is better now and she is very obviously thankful but she needs more out of life than just being trapped within the castle walls and I love the exploration of that AS WELL as how it makes her feel! I feel like continuations, especially negative ones, of “happily ever afters” are rarely explored and I love how they did it here!

I also love that the conflict isn’t black and white! Yes Rapunzel wants freedom she is not being given and you are obviously made to sympathize with her with it being from her point of view but it’s incredibly hard not to sympathize with her dad as well! It makes it incredibly obvious that not only does he know what he’s doing is hurting Rapunzel emotionally but that he feels genuine sympathy and sadness because of it, yet he still acts on it because he believes he is protecting her from the outside world especially since it’s taken her before! When he talks to her about a part of him dying when she was taken as a baby and saying that was his best part it’s so obvious how much he cares despite going about it wrong! I love understanding both sides because it gives so much more complexity rather than character a is wrong and character b is right! I’m reference to this I also love that the conflict isn’t just wrapped up after Rapunzel’s dad sees her fight! I feel like a lot of Disney media would have the dad see her fight and be completely changed and willing to accept she can defend herself but he’s not! He actually gets upset when she does this and even more so when he learns about her hair and her disobeying him! And it’s not about restricting her freedom or punishing her he just loves his kid and he’s not willing to let her go again even if that means she may be upset with him!

Also the fact that Rapunzel rejects Eugene’s proposal?! Love does NOT have to be rushed! It’s okay to take things slow and want to better know yourself and your partner before making that commitment! It’s okay to not want to make that commitment for any reason! And despite her clearly being happy about it she wasn’t ready and they don’t present her as being in the wrong or being a bad person for it she just wasn’t ready and that’s okay! It’s not wrong to reject someone and it’s not wrong to feel you’re not ready and it doesn’t mean you don’t love that person or don’t want to continue being with them! I also love the fact that they don’t end with them getting married as a “fix it” they instead end with a heart to heart between Eugene and Rapunzel which helps Eugene better understand the rejection and Rapunzel feel better in having him understand!

Oh and don’t even get me started on the heart to heart!! It was AMAZING! It’s very obvious that Eugene is still upset about the rejection but he isn’t just upset for the sake of being upset he TRIES to understand and succeeds! Instead of brushing her off or having the series portray her as being wrong or cruel for it he takes the time to listen and goes as far as to state that he understands and will respect her boundaries regarding the situation! It’s such a great moment! Eugene even breaking his usual cocky persona for this moment because he wants to be genuine with her because this is important to him and their future together! Because she’s important to him!

I know I may be setting the bar low for some of these but I don’t care I genuinely have such high praises for Tangled Before Ever After I love Tangled so so much </3

(Also thank you for reading if you read this far !!)

(Also also tagging my pookie because this is kind of an analysis? And I think he’d like to see it >:D hope you like it pook)

@anthony-ant-14

[archivalofsins]

Ask game!

Muu - 🪢 A headcanon about their family

Haruka - 🍫 A headcanon about food

Fuuta -💤 A headcanon about their sleep

Mahiru - 💝 A headcanon about their love language

Mikoto - 🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

Kotoko - 😺 An animal related headcanon

Oh, thank you for the ask!

Muu - 🪢 A headcanon about their family

We've been told that Mu's dad is a landlord who exports furniture, and her mom is a model. A part of me thinks it's funny to headcanon Mu's dad ae Mikoto's landlord for the bit. Yet another part of me is like those Teo jobs are heavily relayed to fraud, money laundering, and sometimes the illegal exportation or importation of goods. Not saying all people who have these careers do this, of course it's just something that came to mind, especially given the way Mu brags in It's Not My Fault.

Implying that a cover up of some sort has taken place. I headcanon that her dad and mom actually know what happened that day, which is why Mu has so much internalized guilt about it. Along with feeling useless or recognizing how much she was not needed and how things would be better if she just wasn't there. Not because her social group turned on her alone but because her parents may have made helping her in this situation seem like an inconvenience as well. Given that completely isolated feeling, we see illustrated in after pain. Because she relied on both groups to get something she wasn't getting from the other.

The board at the end also says something regarding her only benefitting off her parents. It's a bit of a sad hesdcanon, but I think about it a lot when we're mulling over Mu's case, especially given her praise seeking behavior that clearly comes out in response to being reprimanded.

She has this very I won't know if you're upset unless you tell me but if you tell me I won't really know how to fix it and I might think you hate me even if it's over something small.

I also think that she got the gift giving thing from her parents, particularly her mom. I imagine they may go shopping or out to restraints a lot. The dad isn't really present consistently, but they all spend time together, and he'd make time if asked. Yet, Mu probably doesn't ask because she doesn't want to bother him because he has a lot of very important business that's tough to handle, but he'll be here when he can.

Very normal family stuff is not as big as say Shinichi's parents just up and leaving in Detective Conan. Mu's parents clearly try to be present, but they very much just like Shinichi's case overestimating how independent and mature their kid is.

Haruka - 🍫 A headcanon about food

Since family came up; I think Haruka's mom could be why he has such a sweet tooth. Because she may have taken her kids to fairs or events a lot as children and gotten them sweets to snack on. Yet as Haruka grew older, it was something that his father may have found immature to continue. So, Haruka associates those sorts of foods with that better time and enjoys them on a rather emotional and comfort food level.

I think he may have been around expensive food to though. Like I always imagine his family is a bit well off but not as much as Mu's and his parents were kind of stickers for teaching their kids how to behave in public especially when it comes to eatting. So like his dad might have been that sort of you hold the fork this way type and you can't let him eat sweets all the time. Like we see him indulge in Milgram but his mom and dad in this scenario were maybe like this is a rare once in a while treat to only be had here.

So, I like to imagine Milgram gave him a bit more freedom when it came to deciding what he eats. However he Aldo likes when people care enough to go that's not healthy or i brought you some food like Mu does because if he was left to his own devices he knows he'd simply forget other food existed because sweets are that good. So, the things most would find overbearing about Mu or Mahiru, he would actually wind up seeing/feeling their behavior, is very helpful.

Fuuta -💤 A headcanon about their sleep

Oh, pre-milgram Futa was the type to game all night and sporadically sleep through the day. However, before college, he had a pretty proper sleeping schedule. He just got a bit indulgent after college started simply because he wasn't really interested in what college or adulthood really had to offer, so he took the why bother approach. He wants to have fun with people who like the same things he does, so of course, he might schedule his classes to be in the afternoon, sleep, or game most of the day, then ditch those classes. The teachers are stupid anyway waste of his school fees, really, but these others guys they get it.

In Milgram, though, I think his sleeping has been disrupted for a completely separate reason. As much as Futa blows up, he seems rather self-conscious and doesn't like being belittled. Unlike Mu, he's observant, but only of things he's neutral to. He can get blinded by his own opinion and speak without really recognizing how the other person is taking his words.

So, I like to think when he first got to Milgram he was too anxious about getting along with anyone here that sometimes he wouldn't be able to sleep and he'd walk around the panopticon at night similar to Amane going to get a warm glass of milk in that one minigram. Until he heard the noises from Mikoto's room and just started pacing around the eating area where the noise could barely be heard.

Then, when he got somewhat more comfortable, he could sleep without trouble until his verdict, which just kicked his general anxiety into super overdrive. Fucking up his sleep again.

Mahiru - 💝 A headcanon about their love language

Mahiru, for all her love for love, is to me only shown to love one love language above all else. Acts of Service.

She loves to receive acts of service, and she tries her best to mirror that for her partner. Lamenting about not being able to do it right because it's simply not the way she's best at expressing love. The love language she shows herself to be best at through her song and time in milgram is quality time, but she views that as inferior or not good enough. She's very good at actively listening, paying attention to others, and involving herself in their interests. So, good at it she doesn't even really recognize she's good at it anymore. It's not an active thing she has to think of doing she just does it.

Yet she wants the grand gesture to be fed by someone given gifts and feel pampered. So, she rightfully thinks if I like this they will too and communication begins to get hampered. Because it's like oh I liked it when you were just involving yourself with me and showing interest in my hobbies these grand gestures aren't really necessary..

"Why can't I do this right no one ever likes my attempts is the food bad is that it? I can cook better...I swear."

So she keeps going bigger, but it's literally just like they just want to hang out with you. Not all this they just like hanging out with you, and that's enough. Yet she doesn't really feel it is because all the books say its meant to be like this, and I feel best when they do this for me. So, I must be the problem here. I must be doing it wrong, and that's why things aren't working out. I need to try harder.

Like all correct sentiments, but the conclusion is incorrect. Some people just want to have a mundane non extravagant time and sit at joke just in your company, but that's a bit hard to grasp.

Mikoto - 🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at

Managerial observation skills. Dude was made to be either a team lead or work solo no in between. He can be polite but he seems like the sort to hate and I mean really hate watching someone do something in a way that he believes is wrong. Like he would rather be in a biking accident than have his name on a project he does not agree with fully. Yet, he'd be too polite to come out and say that. Plus, working well with others is necessary for the job he's in.

He can't just go off on everyone around him he needs to be cordial, especially if he was a subordinate.

Despite that, Mikoto is pretty present when it comes to recognizing the quirks and habits of others. He's also not too harsh when discussing those things and tries to work around people's individual habits. He's good at recognizing the potential and strengths of the people around them. Along with advising them on how they could improve, as seen with Haruka. So, he'd be very good at behind the scenes work, project management, and review. He has a lot of natural talent when it comes to revising the ideas of others and highlighting the strengths of an individual. He's just very bad at knowing and applying those skills to himself.

Kotoko - 😺 An animal related headcanon

Wolves wolves wolves, she really loves them. However, I think her love of wolves comes from the fact they're pack animals, and she always wanted to have a group of her own to belong to. Outside of them genuinely being cool and strong. We see the one, of course, but she runs with multiple and many eyes are shown in Harrow. It's a lot like how Futa was looking for that sense of community and comraderie through people. While cleverly highlighting how differently people respond to a mob of people vs. a pack of animals. A lot of the time, when it comes to people, most can agree that having a mob mentality isn't right, and one should recognize when they're going too far.

However, since Kotoko's is more related to animals than people, there's this naturalistic carnal visceral reaction to go these are animals if they see something bad they just attack it. So, they must have felt threatened. Animals don't have the same comprehension skills as people, so this reaction was more than likely valid. Comparing Kotoko to wolves gives this very real sense that even an animal would have intervened because what the other person did was just that bad.

I think Kotoko sees things in that very black and white way as well. Based on her answers in her first written interrogation and this is why she relates so heavily to wolves. However, even though she sees herself in that wolf mentality. I think she'd be prone to liking small animals or prey animals. Like ferrets, mice, hamsters, the littlest of the bunch. Cause along with her wolf mentality, she's very focused on protecting the weak. She thinks it's the duty of the strong to do so. The job of the wolves to protect the sheep. Making it very likely she would be a big fan of herding dogs as well.

I feel like she'd also have a tenuous relationship with hunting given the wolf pelt in Harrow.

[kinkandkreep]

Connor Kenway Drabble

A/N: Y'all?...*sigh* When I tell this man has taken me h o s t a g e??? It's been two weeks and I still haven't managed to completely flush this obsession out of my system. I mean, I'm not exactly complaining, I think it's rather astonishing actually. Anyway! Here's a fluffy lil' drabble I thought up and wanted to share with y'all. I hope y'all enjoy! Oh, and if you'd like to send in any Connor related asks/comments, please feel free to share! 😁

Connor has such a gentle, caring way of speaking to those close to him. 

It’s well known that he can be a bit abrasive when dealing with strangers, mainly men, but no one can ever say that he’s without compassion. 

He’s always especially cautious of appearing or sounding brutish around you. (Unless, of course, he’s having to handle bidness. But you absolutely do not mind.)

Even though you’ve reassured him time and again that you could never see him as anything other than nigh perfect, he still feels self-conscious of how big he is compared to how small and, to him at least, delicate you are. 

Connor doesn’t ever mean to belittle you or come off as condescending; he’s well aware that you can take care of yourself, and he admires you greatly for that. 

But now that you’re his, he can’t help but feel this soul-deep tug that calls for him to shield you from everything and everyone. He wishes nothing more than to hold you close and never let you go, no matter how impractical he knows that is. 

The man, though he may be 6’6 and bench 300 on a weak day, touches you so gently and with such consideration that it could almost cause you to shed tears. 

He’s never once raised his voice at you, and he’s the most excellent caregiver when you’re sad or feeling down. 

Granted, he may not always know how best to handle every situation as it relates to you, but he tries his darndest, and despite not always being sure, he seems to have a natural ability to care for others. 

You try to tell him this, and though he always becomes flustered by the praise from you, he simultaneously brushes you off, saying that he doesn't do anything special, just what comes naturally. 

(If only you could make him understand that even that is amazing in itself.)

If someone asked, you would describe Connor as secretly having so much love to give, and also as someone who subconsciously wants that love returned. 

You like to think he’s found what he’s looking for, in you and in the other inhabitants of the Homestead. 

For the past little while, you and Connor have been taking impromptu pie baking lessons from Corrine at the inn. Rather unsurprisingly, Connor is very good at it. 

You? Well…you try your best. 

Although, with Connor’s assistance and Corrine’s instruction, you’ve gotten exponentially better, and now your pies look presentable and taste fairly good. 

At least, according to Connor. 

Other than that, you’ve secretly taken to asking Ellen to teach you how to mend, so that, should the need ever arise, you’d be able to tend to Connor’s robes and other clothes. 

Your lessons with her have been going along swimmingly, and you’re even starting to feel confident enough to learn how to sew next. 

It’s just that Connor does so much for you, and for all of the homesteaders, you want to be able to do little things for him as well. Simple stuff that he’d appreciate, and tasks that he wouldn’t have to worry about being undone. 

He spends most of his time at home now, but he frequently makes trips to New York and Boston, to train his current assassins and recruit new ones.

Before he leaves and as soon as he returns, he’s always extra sure to give you a warm hug and a loving kiss meant to say either “I love you and will miss you while I’m gone” or “I love you and I’m so glad to be back with you” accordingly. 

Though he’s never gone for long, his lack of presence is always felt heavily across the manor and the Homestead as a whole. 

It’s nearly a celebration every time he comes back, so integral a part is he to your way of life. 

But even though you’re there to help him as he goes along, and even though his workload has considerably lessened from his younger years, you can't help but worry that Connor still feels burdened and, ultimately, unsatisfied. 

You wonder if he wants children; after all, he looks so fondly upon little Hunter when he volunteers to watch over him for Warren and Prudence, and he was especially ecstatic when Norris and Myriam announced they were expecting. 

He’s never expressly said anything to you about it though, and while you’re not opposed to the idea, you consider that perhaps he’s been waiting for you to breach the subject. 

He probably doesn’t want to appear as though he’s pressuring you (he’s real considerate like that).

One day, as you’re removing a freshly baked apple pie from the oven (that you successfully and proudly managed to make all on your own), you hear Connor enter through the back door. You call out to him, but to your utter surprise, there’s no answer.

You can hear his footsteps continue, and eventually they begin to recede up the stairs to the second floor. 

Carefully and quickly covering the pie so that it could cool, you wipe your hands and slowly begin approaching the stairs. You call out to your husband again, but no answer. 

You try your best to remain quiet as you ascend the stairs and once you’ve reached the top landing, you search through the rooms until you find him, sprawled out on the bed in his old room, seemingly fast asleep. 

‘Ah, so he was just so exhausted he probably didn’t hear me.’ You smile at the thought. 

Slowly approaching the sleeping man, you place a gentle kiss on his forehead, fondly carding your fingers through his lush hair.

In his sleep, he groans and mumbles something that vaguely sounds like your name, before unconsciously leaning further into your touch and settling once more. 

Your fond smile grows wider at his adorable behavior, and you carefully crawl into the bed alongside him, snuggling up into his side. 

He smells of fresh pine, rain and patchouli, very earthy and musky. 

It’s a pleasant scent, one that you oft find yourself associating with him. 

Taking a moment, you study your husband’s currently soft features as he sleeps.

Connor is a very handsome man, with deep caramel skin and rich chocolate hair. His cheekbones sit high beneath his skin and his jaw is sharp and chiseled. You can’t see his eyes, but you are easily able to recall how they shine a warm, comforting carob brown. 

His lips, parted slightly with each breath, glisten as they always do, and you find yourself tempted to place a kiss upon them. 

Your concerns from before still weigh heavily on your mind, and by now your pie should be sufficiently cool, but for now, you find yourself content to just lay here with the love of your life and bask in his calming presence. 

[bonefall]

So, what are your opinions on Moth Flight? I feel like it's very important that she's got ADHD, and gets very babied by her clan. But when I was reading Moth Flight's vision, she felt kind of underdeveloped and mostly just moving where the plot takes her or where Micah takes her. She loses a lot of what makes her interesting when Micah enters the scene and then she has kittens and she's either all Micah or All Kittens. Also, it feels like her choice as the end has absolutely no basis. I also feel like the development of what we might recognize as medicine cats and Windclan and even the culture of the clans itself was brushed over for border arguments and freaking Clear Sky's nonsense. I know you're changing the ending, but are you changin what Mothflight's Vision focuses on?

I think it's sad that Moth Flight's ADHD is so clung to. I think it's a sign of the piss poor treatment of neurodivergency in canon that the mere idea such an awful character maybe having ADHD is important.

Because that's always the thing that comes up about her. Absentminded traits that were sort-of present at the beginning of Moth Flight's vision, during a time in her life when she was having Slate's kittens foisted on her, and would rather be doing the things that actually interest her

(actual interests such as getting Rocky addicted to catmint)

What DOESN'T come up is how she acts in every other appearance, every other moment of her SE, where her personality isn't 'underdeveloped,' it's vindictive. She's condescending towards Acorn Fur, she's catty towards Slate, and cruel to Leafpool even going so far as to want to send her to CAT HELL for breaking her shitty rule!

Yes, it's annoying that her kits come up so often when she's completely dropped her interest in herbs, or in serious situations where the kittens can wait, but I feel like a lot of people focus on that and look right past her absolutely spiteful behavior towards the idea that Slate can help her back now.

She refuses help for the problem of babysitting her kittens, CONVINCED there's something special about her children, only to then divide them up between the Clans when Acorn Fur mentions the idea of having kids.

Is it coincidence that the father would be Red Claw, the cat Moth Flight blames for Micah's death?

I'd say she's actually quite developed!! She's consistent, in fact! She's horrible! She's spiteful, self-absorbed, and disconnected from reality. I can't stand her. I can't stand anything about her.

Most of all I can't stand how the narrative treats her as correct for these things. All book long she has trouble getting cats to listen to her for things that ACTUALLY MATTER, like collecting herbs and treating patients, only for her big climactic narrative moment to be... the 5-page-long StarClan pileup on poor Acorn Fur, trying to birth the dumbest rule in the entire series, turning the same smug condescension she's dealt with ALL BOOK onto someone who's done nothing wrong.

SO in short! I've gutted her! I've gutted her like a fish! Completely different circumstances for the vow, completely different personality!

I am not sure if ADHD fits into it anymore, or if there would be a point where I'd really be able to display her having it all story long (outside of how all of my rewritten characters end up a bit ADHAutistic because they come out of my ADHAutistic brain) But there will be lots of other characters who have ADHD specifically. I don't skimp on that one.

[aesethewitch]

this may sound morbid but is there a way to know when we would pass away?

So, there are several questions that I think we have to answer before we can answer the big "Can you predict when you will die?" question.

First: "Is there a way to accurately predict the future?"

I think, yes. You can use various methods to predict future events with relative accuracy. Level of accuracy depends heavily on the diviner's skill, the quality of the question, and the divination method used to make the prediction.

Second: "Is divination infallible?"

No, absolutely not. Even the most accurate, tried-and-true, skilled diviner will get it wrong sometimes. Humans are liable to make mistakes. We get caught in bias, we miss details, we misunderstand cues. It happens. Everyone who's ever done divination has looked back on a reading and gone, "Ah, shit! How did I miss that??"

Third: "Is the future set in stone?"

Fuck no. I don't think so. Choices matter.

I believe that divination predicts one path forward. You could divine a hundred times and receive a hundred possible outcomes and have not a single one of them come true. That doesn't mean that the divination was wrong or that it didn't work, necessarily -- just that the choices made between the divination and the event have changed the future.

The future is mutable. It's in flux right up until the moment we arrive and future becomes present.

Fourth: "Can I predict when I'll die?"

I mean, based on my answers to questions one through three, you can kind of guess my answer to this one. You can, sure. But will it be accurate?

I'm inclined to lean toward no on accuracy. When you "know" something's going to happen, you change your behavior. Even if you want the outcome, your subconscious is now Aware, and your actions will shift whether you realize it or not.

But beyond that, the typical person who asks the question, "When will I die?" is... well, anxious. Worried. Sad. Biased. The inherent emotional bias -- no matter how disconnected you are in the moment from that emotion -- is unavoidable. You're liable to see what you want to see (or what you expect to see) in the divination.

Now, there are two more questions I think we ought to consider...

Fifth: "Should I predict when I'll die?"

That's up to you, I think. I sure fuckin wouldn't. For one, I may very well be wrong. Frankly, I probably will be wrong, because there are so many circumstances between then and now, and I don't want to die, so I'm obviously going to make changes that will affect the outcome.

For another, why would I want that deadline looming over my head? I would rather not know and focus on living. I've got enough anxiety over meeting the commitments I've already got, I don't need to worry about being late for death. If I'm wrapped up in The End, I'll never see The Now.

If you ask the question, "When will I die?" and get an answer like, "in 30 years from cancer," you're not likely to just... sit on that. You're going to be internally biased to get screenings more often. Maybe you quit smoking. Maybe you catch the signs early and live for 60 more years because you were able to remove the tumor before it spread. Maybe you get so anxious about dying in 30 years that your health tanks and you die earlier than that.

And if that's the case, why bother asking when you'll die? Why not ask, "How can I improve my health?" or "What can I do to extend my lifespan?" or "Is there suffering coming my way, and how can I prevent/improve the situation?"

Think constructively.

And, finally:

Sixth: "Should I pay someone to predict when I'll die?"

I cannot stress this enough: Absolutely. Fucking. Not.

The people you see online who offer divination services to this effect are doing so for shock value. It's unreliable, and frankly, I'm of the rather spicy opinion that it's predatory. The people who want these types of readings often have really serious issues going on that need actual help, not sensationalized "perfect accuracy, down to the minute!" tarot readings. I don't care how intuitive these people claim to be. It sucks.

You should not trust your health to divination or magic of any kind. Mundane solutions over magical ones. That's not to say you can't also do a little health spell or prediction for your situation. I'm just saying that death is a matter of health, and you should handle it the same way you would handle other health issues.

Also, anyone who advertises absolute perfect accuracy in any kind of divination, particularly when accurate timings are involved, is a smidge of a red flag for me. Near-perfect is another thing -- skilled and experienced and well-regarded are in a very safe class.

Do not, I repeat, do not let anyone tell you when you're going to die. At best, it's from a well-meaning individual who just wants to give people what they want from a divination reading (or an oblivious "intuitive" at a cocktail party, as the personal case may be). At worst, it's a knowing, intentional cash-grab from someone who wants to profit off your insecurities.

Either way, don't buy.

Hey, if you like my work, consider tossing a handful of dollars in my tip jar. I get a couple dollars, you get access to my entire backlog of exclusive work for 30 days. Win-win.

[ae-azile]

I loved the cousin drunken bonding in latest Progression chapter. It was so hilarious and cute. I am absolutely blown by Macau/Kinn though. I don't think I have ever read about these two together, even talking more than few words. While Khun/Vegas is cute and can be seen, Macau/Kinn is such rarepair cousin bond than I immediately started to ship them hard (not ship as romantically but as in cousin bonding). I can't wait for the next chapter. I hope ultimate shippers, Chay and Porsche, can see their appeal too. :D

Hello! I'm glad you liked the bonding between the cousins. It was definitely fun to write. I will say my favorite cousin dynamic tends to be between Tankhun and Vegas. They are the oldest sons and Vegas never treats Tankhun with disrespect - even after getting hit in the head with a tray. The most he does is attempt to stare him down, a challenge he quickly backs down from in silence, which is surprising when he had been smugly challenging Kinn through tense conversation just seconds before. The most negative thing he says about him is that he is "something" (at least going by the English translation). I like to think that they loved each other at one point, and maybe Vegas looked up to him and feels some semblance of sadness when he thinks about what Tankhun went through. Tankhun was old enough to be the big brother Vegas desperately needed - and maybe once had before their families became too strained and set on competition.

As for Kinn and Macau, they have a potential dynamic that interests me too. I can see Kinn as someone who wants to be both a protector and a friend to his brothers, but it is difficult with their very different personalities and the wedges forces between them due to their trauma and their overall situation. He was likely conditioned to be a protector by both his father as well as himself after Tankhun's kidnapping happened. While he likely adores his older brother, is present for him, and makes sure he has guards who are more suitable as friends, rather than just staff, there is likely some resentment, heartbreak, and grief for who is older brother once was and will likely never be again. His relationship with Kim seems like a distant one. In this story, this result is due to an upsetting incident during their childhood, Kim struggling to connect and express his emotions, and Kinn being the most involved in the family business while Kim wants nothing to do with it. There is likely resentment from Kinn as well, that Kim gets to follow his dreams while Kinn has to stay back and do all that is expected of him.

While both Khun and Kim genuinely love Kinn, there is a distance that Vegas and Macau simply don't have. While Vegas always feels like he is getting pitted against and beat by Kinn, he is more successful than him in at least one aspect: he actually has a healthy relationship with his brother. Macau is the youngest and not involved in the business either. Like Kim, I see him holding very little interest in it. However, he is present for his brother. He supports him, spends time with him, and is openly affectionate with him in a way that seems to come to both of them easily and without hesitation, which is something we don't really see between the major family brothers (although Khun does seem to want physical affection from him).

To me - at least in this story - Macau represents what Kinn would ideally want in a sibling. Macau may not show interest in any mafia business, but he also likely doesn't share any old lifetime goals Kinn once had for himself. On top of that, Macau is loyal. He is the one member of the family who successfully does his own thing and stays out of the business, yet stays loyal to his brother, who is very much tangled up in the expectations their family has. He is present, loving, there, and was never in a situation where he stepped back from previous responsibilities like Khun did. He also never distanced himself from the entire family due to his lack of interest in their operations like Kim did.

In some ways, Macau just being himself and resistent and avoidant towards the mafia/his father while remaining close and loving towards his brother makes him the most ideal sibling in either family. He is also the most "normal" by far. Kinn adores his brothers and wouldn't trade them for anything, but I think Vegas got something that Kinn simply didn't by having Macau as a brother: a healthy brotherly relationship that somehow was strengthened by their circumstances rather than tainted and strained. I think a lot of that deals with how Macau operates, which brings out Vegas loving, affectionate, protective, and nurturing side. This is a side Kinn has as well, but since his relationships with his own brothers were strained, that side sort of remains stagnant.

It's been coming out more that they have all become closer, and Kinn is incredibly grateful for it. That being said, he feels like a third wheel at times, and his role as heir/head made Tankhun and Kim hesitant to share certain things with him. Despite Vegas also being heir/head, Macau never faced this predicament. So when Macau and Kinn get drunk together after the cousin reconciliation and the two are left alone, I feel like Macau's sincere side comes out, all while Kinn's protective and caretaking side comes out. Talking with Macau was likely very easy in comparison to opening up with his brothers. Despite it being alcohol fueled, he felt genuine connection with his (now second) youngest family member. It felt easy, like how brotherly bonding should feel like.

We definitely might see more Kinn and Macau moments! I can see Macau just randomly inviting Kinn out to go jet skiing or something and Porsche being like, "Huh???" all while Kinn leaves the compound with an excited grin on his face because he's getting chosen over Tankhun and Kim lolol. But I think Chay will be invested, and Porsche will too after getting over his confusion.

Anyway, this turned into a rambling essay that got away from me lolol. But thank you for the ask and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!