#baby the birds were singing the air was crisp the nature was beautiful

[ickypuppi3]

something so incredibly domestic to me about billy and steve just going on a walk together

steve turning up at the hargrove’s during winter break while neil and susan are at work and max is at the arcade. steve knows billy is at home because they talk now. they’re friends. sort of. so steve knocks on the door. rings the bell twice. tells billy to c’mon because he wants to go for a walk.

and billy’s just staring at steve like he’s lost his mind. ‘cause billy plays basketball, sure. billy lifts weights. billy swims. billy surfs. or did at least did. billy does, like, everything but billy doesn’t do wintery walks.

tells steve exactly that.

steve doesn’t take no for an answer, though. billy tells him he doesn’t have a winter coat and steve holds up the extra one he’s got in this big bag beside him and- billy doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before. totally wasn’t too distracted by the way steve’s talking, face lit up and cheeks flushed from the cold.

billy comes up with a few more excuses but steve’s stubborn. billy knows from experience so he gives in. lets steve wrap him up in this huge coat, bitching and swearing the entire time. tells steve he’s gonna freeze his balls off and it’s gonna be all steve’s fault.

they leave eventually, though. steve grinning at billy the entire time, stupid dopey look on his face and billy trying to look at the trees instead. at the leaves. at literally everything except steve.

but steve’s looking at him. keeps sneaking glances because he’s got billy hargrove beside him, nose pink and eyes wide as he looks up at a flock of birds that just scattered. because billy’s got a hat on, pulled down to his eyebrows and a scarf that he’s pretty much buried the lower half of his face in.

because billy’s, like, cute. or whatever.

so they walk. and they talk. leaves crunching and birds chirping. sun flitting in through the trees. maybe billy lights steve’s cigarette, maybe they carve their names somewhere, maybe they kiss about it .. who knows !

[writingbakery]

“home is wherever i’m with you”

i was missing my panther baby, so i wrote out a quick little drabble set in the “what’s new, pussycat?” universe ! in this, you & hitoshi are married, & live farther out in the forest now rather than in the shop 💗 i hope you enjoy my loves ! expect more from this series soon 💗 [taglist; @katsukisprincess @secondhand-trash @redbeanteax @lady-bakuhoe @keigos-dove @antigenius @heroheads @yuueimagines @jojosmilktea @writing-in-monotone ]

[pairing; gn! witch reader x panther familiar! hitoshi shinso]

[warnings; fluff, romance, domesticity, even more fluff]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you like to take the long way home on sunday’s.

the market opens early on spring sundays, tables and chairs rising with the sun. under the morning dew, dozens of booths come to life in the crisp air, familiar faces amongst the handmade creations.

you do well on sundays, sell wellness draughts & charmed necklaces & always have a smile to offer to every neighbor. the people of your little town are overwhelmingly friendly now, tossing in a kind word or a hint of friendly gossip as they make their purchases, a pinch or two at your rosy cheeks between every warm smile. you can thank your familiar for that; shinso’s presence over the last few months had endeared your neighbors to you, erased any cruel misconceptions they’d held on to.

when you’re feeling poetic, you like to say that you don’t choose the long way home; instead, the well worn path calls you, whispers amongst the growing leaves & draws you in closer. shinso always laughs at that, eyes crinkled up fond at your flowery ideas - “you must have a little nature fairy in you then, mixed in with the witchiness,” — but he always allows you that small comfort of a longer walk home despite his protectiveness, quiet & peaceful.

you suppose that shinso’s quiet acceptance of all your little quirks and oddities is why you love him so, a reason out of many. you never have to shy away from yourself with hitoshi, can open yourself up all the way to the heart and let him reside right next to it.

the forest is calm so late in the afternoon, warm and inviting despite the lingering chill and you’re glad you chose it this particular sunday. winter’s icy beauty is slipping from the soil by the day, inching off the branches of the trees and kissing their pretty, rich green leaves. sprouts and weeds bloom under your feet, crafting sweet spring melodies with the chirping birds overhead and the singing brooks along the path.

the sunlight filters through the lively forest, little halos of light decorating certain spots on your walk. you like to think each halo illuminates something special, something previously unknown yet desperate to be. you always pause at each one, sift through the vegetation with the tip of your boot to see what lies beneath; you’ve found countless little odds and ends that way, pretty stones and lost trinkets. today, it’s a smooth, grey-blue pebble, a perfect circle in the middle of your palm. you decide to bring it home to hitoshi, knowing the panther will tuck it away reverently, use it whenever he needs to unwind. your lover had a particular fondness for things that were perfectly round, perfectly smooth, turning them over and over in his hands as he thought - you found it endlessly endearing.

the thought of your lover waiting at home hurried your steps, a smile on your lips as you quickly made your way along the path; it always happens this way, only able to walk half of it leisurely. you always got too excited for what lay at the end of it, always wanted to arrive faster than you’d departed.

where the brook ended, so did the path, widening out to a clearing; there stood your home, a brick and mortar reflection of your heart. the windows were fogged around the edges and draped with fresh vines, the door bearing a beautiful pink and green bouquet. hitoshi had complained the entire time you’d both decorated - “we live in the middle of the forest, darling, who in the fuck is going to see all this?” - but even he had to admit it was lovely. it brought a certain sense of belonging to your little home, made it a little more yours.

you pushed open the door carefully, locking up before discarding your coat and scarf - hitoshi always bundled you up excessively before you left the house, scowling over how lax you were with keeping warm. he always ended his little rants with a kiss to your nose, however, so you more than tolerated them. the house was quiet, save for the indignant meows of your pets and an all too recognizable snore. you stepped through the foyer to the living room to take in your favorite sight; hitoshi, fast asleep amongst the pillows of the couch, both cats draped over his sleeping form. from the book over his chest and the full pot in the kitchen, it was clear he’d been enjoying some relaxing as he started dinner, waiting for you to come home. it made you smile, the thought of your husband shuffling about your kitchen with his glasses sliding halfway down his nose, scolding the cats for begging but slipping them treats anyways.

[they appealed to his feline heart, though he’d never admit it, and you had to admit it was precious. once a panther, always a panther.]

you stepped into the kitchen to check the stew, stirring it carefully and lowering the flame. it had another hour or so to cook, and you didn’t mind at all, tossing in a few spices and herbs. it was routine in your house, at this point; one of you starting a task, the other finishing it. you were particularly fond of it, thought of it as both of you adding a bit of yourselves to everything you did. hitoshi always folded your robes, and you hung up his sweaters; hitoshi was good at chopping and dicing for stew, and you added the flavor.

you carefully set out two bowls of fish and rice for your cats, scratching behind both sets of ears with a fond coo. “took care of him for me while i was gone, did you? thank you,” you praised quietly, before returning to your husband in the living room. you set aside his glasses and book, making sure to mark his page, before curling up into his chest, draping a blanket over the both of you. hitoshi started sleepily, one arm reaching up almost on instinct to pull you closer.

“didn’t know you were home,” he slurred with a yawn, rubbing at his eyes and making to sit up. you carefully pushed him back down, chuckling softly underneath your breath as you gave hitoshi a soft kiss hello. “stay down, sleeping beauty. i’m home.”

as he happily obliged, arms wrapped tight around your waist as he began rambling on about his day, you couldn’t help but smile a little wider, pressing your cheek to his chest as you listened.

yes indeed, you thought to yourself, warmth seeping into your bones. you were home.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[itslilliansnow]

Aesthetics tag

Aesthetics tag

I was tagged by @iwillgiveyoumyhappiness . Thanks Mars for this beautiful and fun thing!

Rules: bold all the aesthetics that you relate to and add your own at the end!

side a - the city

glittering lights, yawning skyscrapers, broken glass shards, street gangs, hip hop music, late night strolls, blinking stars, sleek cars, flickering neon signs, glittery earrings, small tattoos, empty subways, dark eyeshadow, snapping cameras, cozy apartments, fried churros, silver necklaces, dyed hair, ripped jeans, bright lipstick, dazzling smiles

side b - the book nerd

large glasses, steaming hot chocolate, thick books, lofi music, hot pastries, soft smiles, large sweaters, quiet libraries, small flowers, melting candles, sweetened coffee, messy hair buns, soft pillows, fairy lights, vanilla scents

side c - the stereotypical girl

soft pinks, mini skirts, crop tops, romantic fantasies, love songs, strawberry milkshakes, lipgloss, high ponytails, candy hearts, nail polish, starbucks coffee, clear skies, hoop earrings, excited ramblings, stuttering heartbeats, rose bouquets, soft blushes

side d - the stereotypical boy

arcade games, graphic t-shirts, baseball caps, chocolate milkshakes, messy rooms, acoustic guitars, chocolate chip cookies, multi-colored bruises, rap music, nightly escapades, stolen glances, pencil-drumming, chocolate milk boxes, low hums

side e - the nature hippie

mini plants, cloud-watching, star gazing, damp forests, sandy beaches, ocean waves, wildflowers, hiking, iced lemon tea, gardening, hippie music, buttered toast, birds chirping, multi-colored leaves, evening sunlight, fruit cups, sundresses

side f - the rebel

cherry lollipops, devil hand signs, grape flavored bubble gum, rock music, killer boots, dark make-up, horror movies, denim jackets, switchblades, handguns, stargazing on rooftops, glowing cigarettes, large headphones, skull rings, converse shoes, graffiti murals, glowing moonlight, rose thorns, fishnet stockings

side g - the winter

busy cafes, oversized hoodies, drizzling rain, small snowflakes, marshmallows in hot chocolate, loose hair, sad music, reading a book, blanket forts, frozen lakes, crackling fireplaces, old movies

side h - the summer

tank tops, lemonade, sunny days, dripping popsicles, short haircuts, tinted sunglasses, cotton candy, amusement parks, traveling, blasting music on the car radio, wagging dog tails, large sunflowers, snow cones

side i - the autumn

pumpkin lattes, warm bakeries, warm colors, hair braids, soft sweaters, colorful leaves, purring cats, dark chocolate bars, romance movies, soft music, zentangling, vintage cameras

side j - the spring

floral scents, peach tea, mint shampoo, tinkling laughter, video cassettes, colorful paintings, excited smiles, lollipop sticks, blooming flowers, melting snow, action movies, singing in the shower

side k - whatmarklee’s aesthetic

boba tea, monochromatic hues, dance studios, ancient history, art museums, lavender scents, food trucks, soft grunge, summer nights, midnight escapades, faded combat boots, r&b music, road trip, movie nights

side l - dreamystuffers’ aesthetic

jasmine green tea, writing lyrics, mint green, oversized shirts, crop tops, earbuds, phone chiming, big glasses, lots of blankets, stuffies, long naps, singing, random dances, loud laughter, snack trips

side m - ohmyxiao’s aesthetic

peaches, loud music, fireflies, side splitting laughter, terrible movies, homecooking, barhopping, reggae, rough hands, carpentry, sea foam, geodes, campfires, skinny dipping, high waisted pants, succulents, temple kisses

side n - taetaetrashhh’s aesthetic

strawberries and nutella, night owl, same song on repeat, nose exhales, everything green, leafy plants, cats cuddles, overflowing bookshelves, punk rock music, pantless dancing, writers block, caramel corn, crunchy leaves, late night coffee, paint stained clothes, art supplies, watercolors, soft breeze, tan lines

side o - ailene’s aesthetic (all my own here)

bright pink phone case, waterfalls, black coffee, black clothes, black hair, same song on repeat forever (already mentioned in side n), piano

side p - Lana’s aesthetic

cotton candy, pink and orange, singing, slow dancing, polaroids, choreography, dimpled smiles, historical fiction, freckles, sunsets, stripes, journaling, soft voices, romance, asmr, novels, space, round glasses, the ocean, hoodies, crisp morning air, loud laughter, love, soobin

side q - Raya’s aesthetic

90s classic movies, franz kafka, kurt vonnegut, dark blue scrubs, goofy dinosaur stickers, hardcover books, marble staircases, red lollipops, cheeky eyebrow raises, thick green curtains, poster-covered walls, sunflower fields, stifling laughter in libraries, playlists for car rides, daily horoscopes, rings, oversized shirts, yin and yang

side r - Katie’s aesthetic

Journalling/Scrapbooking, oversized clothes, reading books on a beanbag outside, cuddling with your cat, stickers, colourful pens.

side s - Mars’ aesthetic

doodling on your skin, clothes covered in animal fur, glasses, freckles, crying when you’re mad, natural frown, cringing, bunny smile, really weird laugh, heavy sarcasm, bilingual, randomly breaking into song or dance, inside jokes, secret handshakes, singing along to every song that comes on, humming constantly, cuddling with pets, screaming into pillows, writing songs, piano callouses, coconut chap-stick, hitting affectionately, ‘I hate you’ = ‘I love you’, introvert, wanderlust, walking ahead of the group, calling your dog ‘baby’ and ‘honey’, studying 24/7, bookworm, street cred, nicknames that stuck from when you were five, Jane Austen, listening to music all the time, sloth key-chains, nightscapes, stargazing, insomnia, messy notebooks, copying accents, quoting movies, rollercoasters, short hair, clip-on earrings, rusty friendship necklaces

.side t - Saturn’s aesthetic

Mars, glasses, freckles, crying when you’re mad, randomly breaking into song or dance, cuddling with pets, calling your dog ‘baby’ and ‘honey’, listening to music all the time,  stargazing, short hair, clip-on earrings, cuddles on grass, dancing under the rain, listening to sad songs when you’re sad, red lipsticks, big expressive eyes, classical music, heart eyes, loving someone, dark room, looking at the planets with someone important, loud speaker, organized chaos, black nail polish, deep voices, laying on the floor, cola lollipop, my favourite pair of converse, everything that’s blue, empty notebooks ready to be filled, paper’s scent, William Shakespeare, Movie nights, fried chips dripped in milkshake, long ass friendships, spontaneous hugs, longing stares, shy smiles, gold and silver, weddings on the beach, dogs showering their affection, soft neck kisses, midnight, soft music while reading, writing.

So freaking cool!

Since I’m kinda new on tumblr I don’t have anyone to tag, but you can do it if you want! Love ya!

[alltheworldsinmyhead]

OUR FUTURE WILL BE A BRIGHT ONE: CHAPTER NINE                                                              (finale)

                       eremika soulmates through time modern au

                                     (previous chapters/ff.net/ao3)

IKIGAI

JAPANESE; "A REASON FOR BEING", ‘A THING THAT YOU LIVE FOR”  – THE THING THAT GETS YOU OUT OF BED EACH MORNING

 I think we deserve

 a soft epilogue, my love.

 We are good people

 and we’ve suffered enough.

 SEVENTY YEARS OF SLEEP # 4. NIKKA URSULA

 She’s a shy girl, but she’s also a  quick learner and it doesn’t take her very long to pick up the games that kids play on the narrow streets of Shinganshina. It’s a completely different world here,  such alien and strange for somebody who used to have daffodils and squirrels for friends before. The morning comes and all of the doors fly open as kids practically burst out of their homes to run around until their little legs get tired or the dinner is ready and their mothers usher them back to wash up dirt from their hands and faces.

Mikasa begins to participate in this ritual as well – Carla Jaeger never forgets to give her and Eren a piece of bread with honey and a kiss on the cheek before she waves to them as they disappear in the crowd. And while Eren and Armin usually prefer to do other things than play with neighbors’ kids, the three of them sometimes join one of the small bands scattered in the district and spend an afternoon with them - and that’s how Mikasa learns it all, this collection of games created when the lack of resources crashes with children’s boredom and creativity. There’s hide-and-seek and tag and  hoola hop that requires a narrow, wooden ring that girls spin around their hips. One child chases others and taps their shoulders to turn into the chased one. Kids sit in circle, clap hands in intricate patterns and recite dirty rhymes; they use chalk and sticks to draw on the stones and dig in the soil; they jump on one leg and pretend that the ground is lava.

Sometimes smaller girls gawk at her eyes and nag her about her hair long enough that she lets them sit behind her cross-leggedand braid her black strands into an elaborate construction that ends up un-tangling halfway home. She would never admit that to Eren, but she likes this – likes feeling little, quick fingers on her scalp and listening to their excited chatter. Those girls are sweet and innocent and just the way she used to be, while she was living with her parents. And their dreams and wishes reflect that; they want to grow their hair long and beautiful, to have handsome husbands in the Military Police and big houses behind Wall Rose or even Sina, with crimson flowers blooming on the balcony and chubby, pink-cheeked babies.

And Mikasa can understand that.

Those girls  (what are their names? Tina, Riza, Mirielle? Maritte? Marie? She can never remember) also teach her one more game, the one under “no boys allowed category” – the apple skin one.

Tina is sitting on an empty apple crate, a small knife looking wrong and weird in her plump hand. She keeps on cutting her fingers and cursing and when Mikasa asks her what she’s doing, the girl raises her round, brown eyes at her and blinks in surprise;

“You don’t know about the apple skin?”

She doesn’t and so they eagerly show her. They instruct her to peel the skin off an apple with a knife, but not to break the skin - as the peel has to be intact, long and spiral. Then they tell her to stand up and throw it behind her left shoulder, her left hand flat on her chest, above her heart.

“And why am I supposed to do that?” she asks them, skeptical about the whole thing. It really sounds silly and she doesn’t even wanna think about what Eren would say if he saw her standing on the street and throwing apple peels around.

And she does not want Eren to laugh at her. At all.

But the girls insist; they circle her like a swarm of little bees or chirping baby birds.

“You’ll see! The peel will make the shape of a letter-“ “And the letter that it shows is a name-“ “- It’s not a name stupid, it’s the first letter of a name-“

“- of your future husband!” they end in unison, the three of them looking up at her with such a brightness and honesty written on their round faces that she just can’t refuse them.

Not that it matters anyway – she doesn’t need to throw any peels to know what will be the first letter of her future husband’s name.

After all, she is also just a little  girl, who also dreams of a husband, of a house, of flowers and of a green-eyed baby of her own.

  “Yes.” Historia nods her head solemnly after Mikasa stops talking. “I remember that. We were there too. Paradise Island, before the Second Eldian Uprising. Around mid-800s, I think?” the blonde rests her chin on the hand and stares off the distance.

They are both sitting on the plastic chairs in Historia’s backyard, in the middle of the first “Summer Party” of the season, as Eren cryptically called those meetings when Mikasa asked him about them. The sprinklers have just turned on, making some guests shriek and scatter, trying to run away from the water – not an easy task, considering the place is packed with people. The smell of barbecue makes Mikasa salivate, Toto’s Africa is blasting through the portable speakers that somebody brought and some brave individuals decided to dip in the pool, even though it’s just May and not a particularly hot evening. She can hear Eren somewhere on her left side, playing a kind of rules-free version of soccer on the grass with his friends which seemingly involves a lot of screaming and, more often than not, multiple players ending up in a pile on the ground.

Historia sits on  folded legs, with daisy chain on her head and loose strands of hair dancing around her face on the breeze like spider webs. So lost in her thoughts, she seems as dainty and fragile as possible. Mikasa tries hard to put together the fawn-like line of her neck and delicate collarbone with the nightmarish visions that would make her wake up covered in cold sweat more often than not lately; winged crests, flakes of gore spiraling in the air like gruesome cherry petals, cobblestones streets stinking of too much people. The world bathed in blood. Cruel. Unforgiving. Devoid of any beauty. And yet familiar, as odd as it is to find familiarity in something straight out of their high school history books.

Mikasa wonders how Historia made it through there. Was she as graceful and full of sweetness as she is now?

“This is where we first met.” The girl adds quietly after a minute or two of silence,  her eyes locked on Ymir’s back as she is getting up from the grass. “ But I don’t like to think about it too much. To be honest, it was horrible. I never want to live so much longer than her again.”

That Mikasa understands. There is not a worse thing than existing when the other one is gone. It is a torment that she would not wish on anyone, ever, no matter the time or place.

“So weird, isn’t it? Us, talking about those times like it was last week. Feeling so ancient when we are so young.” The corners of Historia’s mouth go up slightly and she shakes her head. “Look at them, my god.”

Connie slipped on the wet grass and all the players lay toppled again, one big tangle of limbs and curses and laughter. Eren catches her eyes and sends her a blazing smile, trying fruitlessly to wiggle from underneath Berthold.

800s. So old. And yet Mikasa doesn’t think she has ever been younger than now, with her lips chapped and happiness bubbling inside her.

I’m hungry, I’m hungry for whatever comes next. – sings some guy through the speaker.

Historia giggles as Ymir keeps on tripping over Reiner’s legs.

Sprinklers spray Mikasa’s bare feet with cold water.

The sun colors the horizon pink and yellow and red and all of the brilliant shades in between.

Eren managed to stand up and lowers his hand down to help Sasha; there are sweat stains on his shirt and grass in his messy hair. If he was nearer, she could smell it all on him. The sweat and the grass and the happiness.

As far as she is, she doesn’t hear his exact thoughts -  just feels contentment, stretching between them like a golden cord or a silk ribbon.

“Yeah.” She answers softly. “ It is really strange.”

 ***

  What comes next? Mikasa remembers it used to plague her mind for some time, before she even met Eren. Supposed I have a soulmate, how life even looks like, with a bond like that?

She jumps higher, runs faster and spins tighter than ever, that’s what happens. Once she would curse her muscles and limbs for weighting her down and working against her will, but now she feels so light that she’s surprised she makes any sound walking at all. It suddenly feels so easy; the sequences of movements, soft and smooth, crisp with no hesitation in them. She diligently pins her now-short hair in place, chalks her hands and faces each obstacle with no fear whatsoever. The steady flow of medals that follow her improvement make it look like as if she turned into Midas, painting everything gold with her touch alone. And while it all brings her a lot of joy and while praises that she hears from her coach and teammates and fans are not unwelcomed either, she knows well what makes her soar so high.

She knows now how it feels to be up, so that the surface of the Earth looks like a glorious oriental rug painted with sunlight and spread down her feet.

It shows in her movements, this joy. Even when she’s walking, she goes through the motions as if she was dancing. She supposes that it’s even more evident, while she’s doing gymnastics. She used to think she was good, before, and there was a truth in that – she was born with a natural talent which was then honed with years and years of steel discipline and hard work. Before, she was flexible and strong and well-trained, but now, with her eyes wide opened and memories back, she is not just simply good – she is superb. She has this spark that shines so brightly in her, fueling each and every step. And the centuries past don’t lie, it’s evident now, clear as a day. She could never reach stars without Eren by her side. She was always at her best, when she was with him.

So she jumps higher, runs faster and spins tighter.

And it feels exactly like running on the roofs and jumping up and down, suspended in the air with steel lines of her 3DMG used to feel like.

 *

 “How many times did we lay just like that?” he asks her one night, his hot breath caressing the shell of her ear, his fingers idly tracing figures in between her shoulder blades, while she’s still shivering, oversensitive and satisfied.

Countless she thinks. Countless and more

But something painful blooms in her chest, like a thorny bush tearing her heart into shreds.

“ I don’t think we had many occasions to do that.”  She answers honestly and he hums in agreement.

Not in the softly-lit room, not in a  warm bed, not smelling like her peach-scented shower gel and each other. Not without scars spoiling their skins and with no mountains on their backs.

Never so calm. Never so sure, so careless.

 *

He supposes that the funniest part is that he doesn’t feel like anything changed at all, for the most part. Armin is still his best friend just as he used to be for as long as he can remember and his mother still smiles when his visits her every Saturday and brings her flowers. He still trains in his favorite gym, listens to his favorite bands and fails in saying “no” to his dog.

He’s still the same person, basically.

Only suddenly everything is different. Only suddenly everything is easier and simpler and more bearable; only suddenly he’s calmer and faster and more focused than ever before. This mess in his head quiet now. The twitching of his leg gone. It’s like somebody took a sheet of sandpaper and dulled the sharp edges of the world so that they don’t hurt him anymore.

Mikasa came into his life, fitting neatly in as if she has never been a stranger, as if there has always existed an empty place ready for her.  She brought a series of small changes with her, that’s true. But those changes feel more like a fresh, cool breeze from the fan during a humid afternoon than anything else. Like tiny snowflakes that just keep on falling until they cover everything in white and all he sees is her, her, her.

The Thursday game nights, Annie ruthless in Monopoly, Armin miles ahead all of them in Scrabble, Mikasa surprising everyone by her mad poker skills.

Sunday mornings, lazy and sweet; Mikasa in his arms from the dawn till dusk, making love until they both collapse curled around each other, sleepy and sated and so, so fucking happy.

Saturday afternoons, Mikasa and his mother working in the garden and laughing quietly, drinking lemonade and watching old movies with Audrey Hepburn on this ancient VHS player.

She came and reorganized pretty much everything and yet he cannot even imagine how his life looked like without her.

 *

 July comes strangely unexpected, like a cat creeping on soft, soundless paws.

He closes the doors of the apartment behind him, with a bag of groceries in his hands and a blissful perspective of three full days without work in his mind. Tomorrow they’re going to Levi and Petra’s daughter christening and then … well, he has keys to Mikasa’s parent’s summer house on the countryside in his pocket and a lot of great ideas how to spent all this time alone with her.

He doesn’t bother to say hello; Miki is not home, he knew it before he opened the door. She should be here, but she’s not – on the emotional level it feels like a very cold blow of AC right into his face and he tries to swallow this feeling before it overcomes him. She’s probably out jogging or something anyway.

Instead of dwelling on that, he focuses on the small things; packs fruits and vegetables into the fridge and hides Mikasa’s favorite, absolutely sinfully unhealthy chocolate cereal in the upper shelf, where she needs a stool to reach. She begged him to do that; she kept on insisting that sometimes, before she can climb on the chair she changes her mind about eating them.

He, personally, never witnessed it, but whatever makes her sleep better at night.

The flat is not as white as it used to be before he moved in; there are splashes of color here and there, scattered on the furniture in form of his flannel shirts and Bumblebee’s chewing toys. And the Bumblebee itself brings the element of destruction into this sea of serenity; right now, she may be snoring soundly on her pillow in the living room, but years and years of constant spoiling made Eren’s pug a very hard roommate indeed and he never realized it until moving to Mikasa. More often than not she would run around the flat with this stripped yellow-and-black bandana around her neck and wreak havoc in her wake… to the constant displeasure of Madeline.

“Well, these two are definitely not soulmates, that’s for sure” crosses Eren’s mind, as he flops down on the sofa. He decides to kill some time by watching this video from two weeks ago, of Bumblebee cashing Madeline around Mikasa’s ankles; his girl was holding a salad bowl in her hands and looked half-irritated and half-amused, as if she was torn between yelling and laughing.

He loves this video; everyone at work has already seen it at least three times and Petra even more. Besides Levi of course, who seemed hell-bent on pretending that Eren is not as prominent in his niece’s life as he is.

But as he is about to press play, the bell chimes loudly, waking Bee from her slumber. Narrowly avoiding stepping on his angry dog, Eren makes his way to the door, wondering silently who could be coming over at such weird hour without letting them know earlier. The only people he can think of are either his mom, which he highly doubts, or Armin and Annie, who are currently enjoying the cloudy English weather and the company of old books, and kindred nerdy, pale scholars during their trip to Oxford.

“Hello- Oh, hi Tori.” He can feel the frown on his face smooth out as he sees a familiar blond figure standing behind the door.

“Hi, Eren.” Chirps Historia Reiss, smiling like a little sunflower and raising up a foil clothing cover in her hands. “ Is Mikasa home? I finished her christening dress.”

“Nah. But come in, she should show up soon.” He takes the hanger from her hands and waves his hand in a welcoming manner.

Historia and Mikasa’s friendship is something nobody could predict or foresee, but when it clicked, it continued to work smoothly and without any glitches.

They found the connection in their respective relationships, Historia patiently guiding Mikasa by the hand through the uncharted territory, them sharing stories of their past lives and current connections, a tangle web of centuries of trauma that they had to work through and could never fully resolve with their respective partners.

Sometimes Eren wishes he remembered more – that he remembered as much as Miki at least, so that they could share this burden together. But for all her eagerness to give him all of her, this is the one part that Mikasa doesn’t let go of easily. Surely, she happily drags him along if she has something nice for him to see, but besides that, she keeps all that she sees and knows and suspects to herself. And he doesn’t want to pressure her to open up.

But sometimes Mikasa would go awfully quiet and so awfully sad. Tears pooling in her eyes she would bite on her lip hard enough to draw blood and shiver in his arms for hours, sweating with cold sweat and making him so, so scared.  And still, she refuses to talk about, clams up when she asks.

“What’s in the past, stays in the pasts.” She simply says, not looking at him and biting on her nails absent-mindedly.

It’s not if it still haunts you. – he wants to scream, but the words got stuck somewhere in his throat. Maybe it’s the same with her; or maybe she just wants to protect her, in the only way she can.

Either way, he us beyond glad she has but somebody that can help her somehow compartmentalize it all.

 Historia quietly pads into the apartment, bursting into laughter at the sight of agitated pug spinning nervous circles on the floor.

“Damn, your dog has some issues, Eren.”

“ You can only imagine.” He sighs heavily, picking Bee up to rub behind her ears. “ Hi girl, won’t you just-“

 Just like that, everything goes quiet.

There is no sound.

No light, no movement, nothing.

Just coldness spreading through his body, chilling each and every cell of his body.

Just pain, so strong that it doesn’t even seem like a pain at all; it is incomparable to anything he has ever felt. Broken leg? Nothing. A concussion? A walk in the park. That time when he fell down the stairs and injured his spine? A nap on the feathery bed.

Pain exploding within him, taking his breath away, making his heart stop.

Mikasa,

Mikasa,

Mikasa.

“Eren? Eren!” Historia on her knees next to him on the floor, Bee barking again, the coolness of the wood underneath his palms-

Red car speeding on red light, red pooling on the concrete, Mikasa’s red iPod Mini shattered into tiny, little pieces.

“Eren.” She whispers, eyes desperately opened, sun so bright above her. “Eren.”

  *

 He doesn’t believe in god. Never has, as far as he remembers.

“Take the sun away.” he whispers, lips brushing cool wood of his mother’s worn-out rosary. – “Take the sun and- and the moon and all of the stars, just- “

His voice breaks in half; ugly sob escaping from his mouth before he can stop it. It’s so, so cold.

“ Just bring her back to me.”

There is a lifeline that stretches between them, red and infinite and beyond a crowded waiting room on the Intensive Care; a lifeline that nobody else sitting on those ugly orange chairs can see. But he can. And he will hold onto it, as tightly as possible.

And pull her back.

 *

There is a memory that keeps on coming back to her over and over again. Eren ahead of her on the mountainside; his right hand holding onto a metal chain and left one outstretched towards her. He doesn’t even have to turn away to see her slipping on the ice-covered stones. He somehow knows, even though the wind is too loud for him to hear her quiet gasp or the sound that the soles of her boots make.

His hand shots and catches her wrist before she can even begin to fall, before the line that ties their waists together even begins to tighten; he pulls her upright strongly, steading her on a slippery slope.

Wordless support, wordless trust.

Thank you. She thinks. Thank you.

 The image of his hand outstretched. He has always looked ahead and trusted her to watch his back. But he has never abandoned her either, never forgot she was there behind him, even when she thought he did.

 She has a lot of time to think, is this sea of whiteness where she floats. Without any weight to carry, her thoughts flow lazily, one image after another. Some of them would normally make her heart ache, or even cry. But now she is glad they’re there; even the bad, the ugly. She doesn’t know that she would still be there if it wasn’t for the anchor they form. Maybe she would wander off to far to even make it back.

But with this goddamn, piercing I have always hated you, Mikasa echoing in her ears on repeat, it is impossible to let go.

It doesn’t matter that he didn’t mean it. It doesn’t matter that it was thousands of years away. Some wounds remain open for forever and that is one of them, still open and bleeding all over everything.  She would laugh if it could even when you’re hurting me, you’re saving me.

So, against all she latches onto all that pain and heartbreak and reaches out her hand; searches through the nothingness for hours and hours until her fingers find it – the string, taunt and so, so warm.

Mikasa grabs onto it and holds on for what simultaneously feels like a fragment of a second and forever. Blinded and deaf, she holds on until her senses come back, one by one; until she can feel warmth of the sun of her skin and biting stench of antiseptics. Until she opens her eyes and sees him again, silent and grief-stricken and sitting next to her hospital bed, holding her hand.

She blinks, once, twice; watches as big, fat tears fall down his cheeks as he presses his forehead to her hand, his whole body shaking with relief that washes over both of them. She is too weak to do anything else but look at him, to keep her eyes opened and blink. But maybe that’s enough.

  *

 “There you are, honey.” Coos Carla, leaning down and putting a cup of green tea in Mikasa’s shaky hands.

It might be hot outside, but surrounded by hospital walls Mikasa feels very cold and quite small, really, so she will take every comfort she can have. She wills the corners of her mouth to raise a little and takes a sip, hot liquid burning the roof of her mouth.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, darling.”

All those pet names, thrown on her like a blanket covering her useless legs. She wishes she could ask everyone to stop – Carla, her mom, her dad, her friends – to stop hovering over her, but it simply won’t do. They would listen and genuinely try to stop, but she still would see it in their eyes. All the worry.  

For now, her only solace is Annie with her own brand of harsh love that involved passive-aggressive remarks like “Will you stand up finally?” which makes other people present gasp. But Mikasa indeed, wants to stand up very much.

After Carla leaves, Eren appears; his steps echoing in her ears long before the doors open and he enters her room.

With a sight, he plops down on her bed, but she refuses to look at him. Still sitting on a wheelchair, she stares out of the window; what a beautiful day, sunny, not a cloud of the sky. Her whole body itches; in irritation, she forcefully sets down the teacup on the table and spills some tea in process.

“Miki.”

From her position, she can almost see green grass of the lawn next to the parking. She would jog there sometimes, passing the hospital, the parking and the lawn, not stopping to rest for she hardly ever needed to. How weird it is, to miss the stretch of her muscles and sweat dripping down her back.

Warm hand closes over hers.

“Miki.”

Eren’s kneeling on the floor next to her, his eyes big and pleading.

“Why are you so angry?”

We should be out there, she thinks, desperately and against herself, on Historia’s summer party, in my parents’ country house. Not here.

So much was stolen from  them already. All those times where they met only to be torn apart, all this tragedy following them wherever they went. She is just so done with it.

Damn, Mikasa. His voice in her head is so infinitely sweet, almost dripping in honey. He gently brushes hair away from her face and leans his forehead on hers. This? This is nothing compared to what we’ve been through. There will be other summers.

There will be other summers.

She closes her eyes, trying to forget about the sun spilling through the window and focus on his voice on the promise ringing in them.

Really?

He chuckles quietly.

Yeah, really.

Her memories are subjective, but they don’t lie. Presented with the choice wheatear or not to trust Eren, all the Mikasas would always choose the former, without fail.

***

 Their days become very long now, with the seasons passing behind the windows of their apartment like in kaleidoscope; summer in full bloom and then autumn, radiant in golds and scarlets. And winter again, the two of them cozy in their little microcosm lit with sweet-smelling candles.

Mikasa learns how to sit again and then how to walk again. It’s an excruciating process, more often than not involving a meeting with the plush carpets that now cover the entirety of the floors in the flat. And although Eren would keep her from falling if she let him, she prefers to do it a hard way. By that, she can at least feel like in those old good times, as if she was covered in sweat and exhausted after a hard training and not after taking a few shaky steps.

But it all passes like seasons; soon enough she walks again and then jogs, faster and faster, Eren always glued to her side, his silent prescience so comforting that it somehow makes it up for all the lost dreams that she had to abandon. She thinks a lot about it, how it felt to fly; but at least she can still curl up in his arms and he can kiss her neck and it’s different but it’s good. So good.

Snow falls and then melts; spring comes again, brilliant and fresh. By that time, she is already working out with a jumping rope again, drops by the neighboring dance studio whenever she can.  There is a white dress hidden somewhere at the back of her closet; one beautiful mess of silk and lace crafted with Historia’s meticulous hands. The dress is waiting for the right occasions, but Mikasa has stopped waiting a long time ago.

Life is good when doesn’t need crunches or Eren’s arms to stand up. Life is good when she can actually sneak up on him and put her cold hands underneath his shirt when he’s cooking, making him jump and scream jesus Mikasa, go wear a sweater or something. Life is good when he doesn’t have to pick her up from the wheelchair and carry her to bed. Life is good with her new job and old friends and Annie and Armin standing underneath flowery arch and smiling like dorks.

Even after she met Eren, she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But know she knows for sure, that even when it drops – it is not gonna be the hardest thing she has ever been through, not even close. And that life will always be good, as long as he will hold onto her, as long as he will keep her centered.

 ***

 “Soulmates… why didn’t you like the idea?”

“I don’t really know. It always seemed so limited to me, like, why am I supposed to just be with this one person because we used to be together a couple of times before in a span of centuries? I didn’t enjoy somebody dictating me how to live my life, I guess.”

“You’re are such a rebel, Miki.”

“Oh, shut up. Tell me about you. What made you okay with that?”

“ Well. You know, when people find their partners, they tend to look at certain things. Like money and race, and gender, and interests and all of that. We don’t really tend to pair up with people who are very different from us. But the notion of soulmates… it just shows that it’s all bullshit. It doesn’t matter at all. When you really love somebody, all of those things are just so insignificant. That always sounded kinda beautiful for me, that it’s your heart that chooses this person time and time again, not your head. “

Maybe he is right. She doesn’t know; she doesn’t care. All she knows is that everything before him seems now like a soft, slow build-up and being with him is a beautiful crescendo; a moment when the music drags you under, overwhelms you.

Give me all your love now, cause for all we know, we might be dead by tomorrow.

One headphone in his ear, one in hers; hands linked and eyes closed, they sit in an empty train, talking without barely opening their mouths.

Even if we’re dead tomorrow, I’ll find you again, Miki.

I’ll find you again and I’ll love you again, Eren.

Ugly and beautiful, all together. She doesn’t think that this crescendo will ever really end.

  *

 As if the heavy slope of my shoulders

doesn’t write a hundred paragraphs.

As if the way I look at you

doesn’t write the singular ending.

 You are my epilogue,

my prologue,

and every chapter that exists in between.

 Everybody, sit down.

  I have a story to tell."

-          Stories. Seventy Years of Sleep, nikka ursula (n.t)

[jujubieberbae]

SEX TAPE

Warnings: Smut, Swearing

Request: could you please do an imagine where justin and y/n went for jog on the mountains in cali and when they reached to the top in a private space justin fucked y/n against some tree or whatever but a pap saw them and recorded it while y/n and justin never knew. and when y/n and justin are done fucking they went home and saw it on the media of fucking etccc.. you do the rest 😊 LOLOL IK THIS IS A STUPID IDEA😂😂😂

Its unedited so excuse any mistakes. And sorry for the wait, but im back Bitches!

***

The padding and crunching of our feet atop the layers of gravel that littered the familiar trail, accompanied by the early morning birds singing a sweet melody was just as sweet as candy to a child. It was a sugar rush. 

But in compose to a sugar rush for a child, it was adrenaline rush for myself.

The sunlight seemed to dance during this early spring morning. To weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. This morning, the yellow light was calming. The suns rays diffused softly through the gray curtains of clouds with a shrouded light that never failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving.

The hilltop approached fast, and with the last few steps completed, a large and triumphant breath was released through my dry and scratchy mouth, so desperate for a sip of water.

“That was a good run.” 

The voice was so sweet to my ears, but so sudden after the hour period of silent running. My eyes trailed towards the figure besides me with a smile, as I walked forward, snatching the bottle half full from his hands. 

“Yeah, for you.” I scoffed. “I was struggling half the time considering you hogged the water.”

Justin’s smirk was undeniably attractive, his sweaty physic only making the sight so much as a delicacy to look at.

“Thirsty much?” Justin commented sarcastically but the hint of lust was hard to miss.

“Only for you baby.” I replied with a wink before gulping down a large amount of the water bottle.

It was silent from then on out, the early morning breeze brushing past the both of us - whipping through the green blades and blossoming leaves around us.

Justin was the first to act upon our setting, stepping forward on top of the breezy mountain until the entire veiw of LA stood in front of him, me following close behind. 

A sigh of delight was forced from Justin, molding a cloud of smoke to appear, re-creating the once invisible air into a smoggy form. His eyes danced around the city with the glare of the sun reflecting against his orbs - leaving his eyes in a beautiful bright honey colour. 

He may not be beautiful to himself, but to me, he was just perfect. 

His once distracted eyes finally caught sight of mine, furrowing in at the eyebrows as his mouth morphed a form of questioning. “What?” He wandered. 

“Nothing.” I replied breathlessly, “Just reminding myself of all the reasons I fell in love with you.” 

“Oh yeah?” He smiled. “Well keep trying, you might be here a while.” 

The lack of self confidence in his tone had a frown settling across my face as I peered up the handsome boy in astonishment. “Well, It really isn’t that hard. All I had to do was stare at your eyes for a couple of seconds.” 

It was silent for only a second, before I stepped forward, my gaze fully meeting his as we turned to face each other. “You really are perfect to me. You know that?” 

“I’m not perfect, but I don’t find it hard to believe you find me perfect, cause I think your perfect aswell.” 

This had me smiling like an idiot as we both leaned forward, capturing each others lips in a smile set with love and passion, soon falling into one of love and need.

I don’t know if its just me, but recently, I’ve been needing Justin a lot more desperately then usual. It had to be something hormonal, but whatever it was, it was driving me crazy. 

The kiss came to an end, leaving my slightly chapped lips pleading for justin’s as the cold air rushed of the swelling aftermath of the kiss. A whimper so slight but noticeable involuntarily rumbling from my throat. I wanted him so bad, and all it took was a kiss. 

“I want you so bad.” It escaped as a whisper, appearing shaky and unstable, as if talking to loud would leave me trembling at the knees. 

His eyes widened at my tone, obviously slightly dumbfounded at my sudden change in mood.

“Woah. It’s like we haven’t had sex in months, you’re really desperate right now baby girl.” Justin commented, almost in worry.

His voice had me pooling in my panties. This was not natural - nor healthy. All the boy did was talk.

“I know.” I whimpered. “I think its my birth control pills. There making me hormonal. But baby - I need you.”

In this moment, I could of sworn a flash of some sort was seen, but after a quick glance around, nothing was seen, and I had just passed it up as a reflection from the many car mirrors to far for the eye to see.

Justin’s frown of worry fell into a smirk, his face lighting up with smug lust “Well, happy girls are the prettiest girls. And I’m gonna make you elated babygirl.” 

His words hadn’t even comprehended through my mind before my back had made contact with the nearest tree. His hands trailed throughout my entire body, ravaging the skin beneath my shirt slyly.

His hands left heat in its trail, even with the morning breeze. It was magic against me, magic that was too addicting to wait on. His lips began attacking the delicate skin by neck, nipping and sucking on the tender flesh by ear and down my collar bone. He knew all the places that had me weak in the knees, and once realising he effect he had on me, hoisted me into his arms, supporting my legs as I wrapped them around his waist.

One by one, our sweaty clothes had found there way to the floor, until we were both left in nothing but each others arms, grinding our hips against one another. 

My wetness had his dick hard and his hard had my pussy wet. It was a cycle influenced by one another. Never ending.

His teasing had me moaning under his gaze, eyes dark and pure with lust, as I imagined his now buzz cut once long, and how messy it would be right now from my fingers. I wish he hadn’t shaved it, but either way he was hot. Hot enough to have me begging on my knees after a simple kiss.

“Stop teasing and just fuck me already!” I hissed.

My hips grinded against his in hopes that he would notice how much I needed him. He hissed, and in a sudden second, he had tightened his grip on my thighs and pressed me harder against the tree. The bark scraped and scratched down my back, leaving me with a pleasurable pain. Was it weird I found this oddly sexy?

His nails dug in to the skin of my thigh, no doubt leaving marks for memories on either side of my legs as he leant forward to press his lips in the valley of my breasts, right atop my tattoo. His kisses trailed higher and higher until my lips were aligned with his own. 

My back arched a little towards him, leaving him with nothing but the contact of my skin and hardened nipples against him, the feeling leaving him groaning against me. Quickly, his eyes dashed around the area of the hiking trail, finding no one who found an interest at hiking this early in the morning before he attached his lips to my own, and slamming his unnaturally large dick inside me without warning. 

“We’re back from our hike!” Justin’s voice echoed throughout the marble flooring and crisp wall panels. The cluttering of keys being placed against the kitchen island bench, followed by the shuffling of shoes Justin and I had both removed from our feet as we entered the abnormally quiet house.

That’s when the noise began, the screeching and giggling of the two children I had come to love as my own emerging from the living room and towards the two of us. Jazzy made no hesitation to jump into Justin’s arms, as Jaxo stuck his hads out for me to pick him up, which I did graciously.

“Hey champ!” I smiled, tickling Jaxons stomach. 

Jaxon giggled, throwing his arms around my neck. “Hey Y/nic/N.”

It wasn’t until I glanced up that I spot Scooter sitting at the kitchen bench, his head in one hand and scrolling through a page on his macbook with the other. Pattie on the other hand stood in the kitchen, hand fumbling around with her lip as she slowly paced. Thats when I realised, 

Something was not right.

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked pattied, heading her way to run her back comfortingly.

Patties eyes flickered forward in recognition, as if just realising that I was here before a small smile played her lips, but not wide enough to reach her eyes. Sadly, the moment was short lived as her smile fell into one of sadness - or pity maybe? 

“Me? I’m fine. You? I think maybe you should sit down for a second.” 

“Huh?” 

“Both of you.” Scooter added, motioning towards the grand lounge.

Justin and I eyed each other suspiciously, both slowly making our way over towards the living room cautiously. Both Pattie and Scooter followed along, and once walking into the living room, found Jeremy seated on the single seater typing aggressively against his phone.

Carefully placing the two kids down, Justin I sat next to each other, eyeing the adult carefully as we waited an explanation. Scooter seemed scared, almost conflicted and choked up on what to say. Thats when I really knew this could not be good.

Scooter began, “Justin-…No….Y-Y/N…no. How do I say this? Well, guy’s-” 

“Look! The paps caught you guys having sex this morning!” Jeremy yelled out from the corner. I hadn’t even thought he was paying attention to anything happening around him until now.

“Jeremy!” Pattie hissed, glancing towards the children. 

“Wait…What?” Justin questioned, shock rippling through every word.

“Sorry Justin. But you were reckless and someone had caught you two. It’s all over TMZ.” Pattie sighed. 

Justin’s once calm gaze morphed into one of panic, his body leaving the couch aggresively yelling “FUCK!” Loud enough for the kids to jump back from there game of rock paper scissors beside me.

“Calm down sweetie.” Pattie begged. Her eyes showed a form of motherly worry, but also slight fear causing me to shoot up and jump to the rescue. 

My arms flew around Justins body in comfort, feeling his shoulders shake in rage. I noticed everyone else glance around the room, nodding amongst each other before all exiting, taking the kids along with them, leaving Justins and I with a few minutes of privacy. 

“Justin,” I whispered against his body. “I’m so sorry.” 

Guilt had flustered my body at this point, and Justin had seemed to notice that. his gaze jumping up to look at me with his eyebrows furrowed in slight worry on my behalf. 

“No babygirl don’t be. This isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah but If I hadn’t started it this wouldnt have happened.” My eyes had filled with tears at this point.  

Justin immediately pulled me towards him, my face crashing into his chest as he hugged my head towards him. “Hey, hey. Stop. This was just as much me as it was you. I should have been more careful but there’s nothing we can do now.”

“I just wish we could go back and fix things. God I hate how nosy people are!” 

“It’s okay baby girl. Hey look at me.” My eyes trailed to his, ones with hope and reassurance that everything would be alright in the end. “Listen to me, shit happens that’s just what comes with being apart of my life but we’ll get through this together. okay?” 

I stood staring at the beauty in front of me, amazed how he can make me feel so secure in a time of insecurity especially after finding out half the world has seen me naked at this point.”Okay.” I agreed. 

His arms pulled me tighter against his chest, voice soft.

“Good.” He responded. “And beside, I wouldn’t want to go back and change it even if we could. That Sex was bomb.” 

My hand met his chest, a small clap made at the impact. 

“Alright, sorry.” He chuckled. “But it’s still true.”

Psst! Leave requests.