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seeingivy · 7 months

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actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

previous part linked here

an: this is 10k. I decided to leave the what am I to you scene for the next chapter bc of it...apologies....also I jsut wanted to post it bc I promised this at the beginning of the week and yday and now its been a long time coming

songs mentioned: style by taylor swift and glimpse of us by joji (minor mention of peace by taylor swift too)

“Wait, so. I don’t get it. You’re basically…acting like a couple on purpose?” Zeke asks.

Eren spares a weary glance to his parents, matching apprehensive looks in their eyes, as he slides the salt and pepper shakers towards Zeke.

Leave it to him to bring up the elephant in the room.

One mention of attending an award show or a red-carpet event had the three of them dropping everything to come to New York at the drop of the hat. Especially when Scott Clarkson was going to be attending.

Levi was more than happy to oblige them at the hotel they were all staying at, much to Eren’s dismay, which left him in his current predicament.

That unlike his friends, who were secretly letting him indulge in something he probably shouldn’t and turning a blind eye, the three of them were never going to let it go.

Eren knew that part of what he was doing was wrong. That he was walking a very fragile line and that their concerns, in some sense, were very valid.

He had promised you a show. The problem was that it wasn’t just a show for him. It wasn’t even the slightest bit difficult for him to give the public exactly what they wanted to see – to go above and beyond to prove that the two of you were better than ever.

He wanted that deeply – for it to be true. Fervently, desperately. It wasn’t hard to pretend when Eren had spent a majority of his life thinking about you, about what this would be like, anyways.

It started out simple. Eren offered to accompany you on your first walk out in public that morning – after watching you stare at the people through the window the entire morning. There was a big crowd lingering outdoors, supplied by rumors that the group of them were staying in the hotel, and he was positive that some part of it was making you feel green.

That and the fact that as much as you could front, some part of this had to be some level of nerve wracking to you. You had put on a brave face very well, but Eren’s deep rooted fear is that this’ll just send you deeper into that cave you retreated into last time – and that you’ll leave him waiting outside again.

So he offered to do your first paparazzi walk with you. Cited that it would have been the perfect thing to build up more publicity, give them a greater chance of stealing the morning headlines about how today was Hyla’s birthday and the buzz around what she was going to wear tonight.

It gave him an excuse to make sure you didn’t run off this time – that he’d be able to catch you if something happened.

Except Eren took it too far. He had given you the permission to pump the brakes whenever you felt like it was too much and the fact that you almost never did made it impossible for him to stop. So he pulled you close whenever the paparazzi were near, brushing his nose against yours as the two of you smiled sunshine into each other’s faces.

It was a disaster waiting to happen. Though from Eren’s expert point of view, he couldn’t fall any more than he already had.

The problem would come later – when it would just become another memory that he cherished, had to relive after he was finally denied the promise of your company and friendship for good.

When the show ended in two months and when you would have no reason to talk to each other again.

Eren shakes the thought from his head as he looks back up at them.

“Yeah. But trust me, it’s actually working. The record label dropped Ricky James and now that Y/N promised them her new album, they’re going to sever ties all together.” Eren states.

“I just don’t see what that has to do with pretending to date. You know, especially when you’re still in love with the girl.” Carla states.

“It’s sadistic. Even for you.” Zeke states.

Eren shoves him in the side. With his parents' eyes averted, he takes the chance to knee Zeke this time to catch his attention.

Could you just back me up? Eren mouths.

Zeke rolls his eyes, before quietly mouthing his response back.

Okay, fine! Just relax.

Eren turns back to the two of them, mustering his best smile. And hoped that deep down, that fleeting flare of hope that’s been burning in his chest won’t go to waste this time – that there are real grounds behind actually bringing Scott Clarkson down.

“There’s a certain publicity that you can’t buy with people who have…such a drama filled history like us. We’re aiming for a solidified deal with Ethan Cole by the end of the Met Gala.” Eren states.

He flinches when his dad drops the fork against the ceramic of the plate.

“Ethan Cole? Are you crazy, Eren? He’s never going to agree to a deal with you guys.”

“Maybe a little. But I think that we could do it. I spent years being played by idiots like Scott Clarkson – it’s not hard to tell that’s how he keeps people around. And…we have an idea of exactly how to do it.” Eren states.

“I don’t know, Eren. I don’t exactly like this idea. I wouldn’t exactly put your hopes on this.” Carla murmurs.

Eren gives her a smile, reaching to tangle his ankle with hers under the table.

He gets it. Deep down, he does. Because the last time Eren did this – with the court case and Connie and Lana at his side – Eren was downtrodden when Scott Clarkson’s life virtually stayed the same. Almost everyone knew, or had some semblance of an idea, that Eren had sued him, that Scott had terribly wronged him.

He had gone through the lengths of an entire court case, just for it to amount to nothing.

He still had his career. He still had the movies, a beloved producing company, and the godawful tabloids that ruined Eren’s life. People continued to work with him despite everything that had happened.

“I won’t be like last time. It…it almost feels better this time around. I have everyone around me and I don’t feel alone, so.” Eren adds.

“Well, you weren’t exactly alone the last time.” Carla states.

“You know what he meant. It’s different.” Grisha murmurs.”

“I do think she can do it. These people only care about what makes them money or…or moves their business forward. No one can do that for them like her. And even besides that, she’s really earnest in the way she moves. I feel like people could even become more aware of this type of thing if she spoke out about it.” Eren finishes.

Eren looks over, looking to his mom’s brown eyes hoping for her approval. He doesn’t exactly find it, but there’s a nod. He understands it all the same – that he’s the one who gets to make the calls here, regardless.

“Oh, let’s all relax! If Eren wants to kiss her and run around doing god knows what, that’s his business! He’s a grown man.” Zeke adds, sliding one hand around his shoulder and using his free one to pinch his cheek.

Eren seethes, stomping hard on his foot under the table.

“I don’t kiss her.” Eren defends.

“Not yet, you don’t. That’s for next month, right?” Zeke responds, with a wink.

Is this what Zeke thought backing him up was?

Eren can feel his cheeks burn. Leave for the empty spots in the script – that Levi had stated he had some special plan for – the last part of the show was almost finished. And much to Eren’s dismay, Hange and Levi overrode his opinion in the writers room and included a kiss in the script.

He’s just hoping for his own sake that they end up cutting it before the day comes like they did the first time. There were only so many things that he could stomach.

“That’s filming, Zeke. That’s different.”

Zeke rolls his eyes.

“Right.”

Eren’s thrown out of the loop when the door swings open, with Connie and Mikasa barging in with you at their heels. The three of you look particularly disheveled – sopping wet from the rain outside, giggly smiles on your faces – as Connie and Mikasa shake their hands at the group of them.

“We ran out of toothpaste over there, Eren. We’re just gonna take some.” Mikasa states.

“You needed three people to get one tube of toothpaste?” Eren asks.

“Well, I was going to come. Then, Connie decided he wanted to accompany me. And then Y/N realized we were going to get it from your room, then decided to come.” Mikasa responds, dragging Connie off to the little bathroom at the side.

Eren lifts his head to find you standing at the door, with…an almost awkward look on your face. The big smile that he saw seconds ago was virtually gone.

“You know what! I think Falco’s actually calling me…so I’m just going to…”

“You should sit. Eat breakfast with us.” Carla states, gesturing to the empty seat at her side.

That’s when Eren realizes it – and it sends an overwhelming amount of relief through him. That you didn’t feel awkward around him but around his family instead.

Eren racks his mind trying to remember it – when you were with them last. And if his memory isn’t deceiving him, it was the last Thanksgiving that you guys were together, a snowy November years ago.

And he gets it, the immediate nervousness. God knows he felt the same way around Falco and Colt when they arrived – after Levi hadn’t listened to his advice to not cast the two of them in the show. Just to spare him some torture.

Levi, obviously, refused to listen.

You always had your guard up around Zeke and if he knew you half as well as he thought he did, he knows for a fact that you must feel embarrassed to show your face around his parents now after everything that happened.

“Mom, it’s okay. You can go see if Falco’s good, Y/N.” Eren affirms.

Eren watches as your eyes meet his, slightly faltering before you shake your head and drag yourself to the table. From his peripheral, he can see that Zeke’s already too delighted for his own good as Zeke quickly offers you the seat at Eren’s side and sits directly across from the two of you.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jaeger. I appreciate it.” you respond, smoothing the little cloth over your lap as you knit your fingers into knots.

Eren busies himself with filling your plate, carefully sectioning small amounts of each dish, before he puts his hand in between yours. You welcome the touch, linking your fingers in with Eren’s under the table, as you shoot them all a smile. And Zeke’s godawful delighted smile back almost makes you sweat.

“Eren. You should go check on Falco, since he was calling Y/N.” Carla states.

“Huh? Oh, I-I’m sure he’s fine. Colt’s here and Gabi too, you know.” you mumble.

There’s no way you’re sitting alone with his family.

“I think Eren should check on him. That way, it won’t be in the back of your head while we talk.” Carla responds.

Eren shoots you a questioning look at your side, as you release his hand, and give him a nod. You can tell that he’s hesitating, his movements painstakingly slow as he exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you with the three of them.

“I apologize for that. He wasn’t going to leave unless you gave your approval.” Carla murmurs, as the three of them relax with his presence missing.

Zeke takes the opportunity to take the seat at your side, filling the empty space Eren left. He leans closer, voice quiet as he whispers and nearly makes your heart drop in your chest.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to hold your hand under the table like he did.”

You fight the urge to spit the water in your mouth straight into the glass – but swallow the shock and battery acid sensation down as you spare the two of them a glance ahead of you.

There’s a twinge of regret – that at one point, you used to be like their chosen family and now it feels like you’ve allocated a lifetime of hurt to their son.

“I want to start by apologizing.” you state.

The two of them look up at you confused.

“For?” Grisha asks.

“Everything I did to Eren. I…I care for your son an awful lot, though it may not seem like that at times. And I hope that you know that even causing the smallest bit of pain is something that I have to carry with me everyday. Something I’ll spend a lifetime trying to rectify.” you state.

Carla sighs, setting her fork down in her plate and crossing her arms against her forearms. You can tell that Zeke’s priming some sort of response against her just from the almost enraged look in his face and you make it a point to spare him a warning glance not to.

Whatever wrath she had prepared for you was what you deserved. And just like Eren and Mikasa, you’d spend your entire life fixing it till it was better with her too.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what it was that happened between you and Eren. I can read news articles and watch interviews and documentaries but…it doesn’t exactly make sense to me. I can admit that. I don’t know why you broke up with him and…and I surely don’t know why Eren thought it was okay to say everything that he did to you.”

“Oh. That’s nothing, really-”

“I don’t understand how you guys can make these big, love confessions without even confronting each other in the first place. Because…you’re not together, right?” Carla asks.

You bite down on your cheek.

“That’s right. It’s just for the paparazzi, trying to build up the hype around-”

“No, I get that part. But the interview, the documentary. You guys did that for each other, on some level. So I’ll ask again. You’re really not together?” Carla asks.

You sigh.

“No. I’m sorry. I…I haven’t thought much about that because I want everything settled before I even consider it. Being careless ruined everything last time…and I can’t afford to do that again. I want to be careful with his feelings this time around.” you state.

Carla pauses, before standing up and joining you at your side. And you’re caught completely off guard when she wraps her arms around you, pulling you up until you’re nestled in her arms and she’s rubbing at the sides of your biceps.

You forgot – she used to do this to you all the time.

“You…you’re a good girl. We’ve always loved you, always loved how Eren was around you, but…just be careful with our son, okay? I don’t want him to be hurt again and he’s sensitive, if that much wasn’t obvious at this point.”

“I appreciate that. Really, I…I don’t think you guys understand what it means to me. And I won’t, I’m making my sincerest promise that I’ll try not to. He’s….he means the world to me. He’s been my best friend as long as I can remember and…no one is going to be who Eren is to me.”

And for the first time, the two of them spare you a glimmering smile.

“He feels the same way.” Grisha states.

You sigh, offering the two of them a smile. And right on cue, Eren barges right through the door, the worry on his face melting as the two of you offer him a smile. You can tell that he’s a little confused – as he settles back into his seat and gives a questioning look to Zeke.

The two of them return to eating, as you dig your own fork into the food and push it around. That’s when Zeke slides his arm around the back of your chair, leaning forward as he gives you a smirk.

You can’t help but feel annoyed. Not in the genuine, hatred way, but in the same way you did when Colt used to tease you when you were a kid.

“So…family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother? That is about me, right?”

You roll your eyes, sparing him a laugh, as you elbow him in the side.

“I’m so sorry to break your heart here, Zeke, but that line in peace was about Eren and Falco. Not about you and me.” you state.

“Yeah, dumbass. She doesn’t even like you.” Eren mutters.

Zeke feigns hurt as he clutches his right hand to his chest and groans. You watch as Grisha rolls his eyes in front of you and Carla fights the urge to smile at his theatrics.

“You’re a bitch.”

“Language, Zeke! God.” the two of them cry, rolling their eyes at Zeke. Eren rolls his eyes as he stands up, stacking all the plates and placing them at the island as you turn back to look at the group of them.

You shake your head, laughing, as you thank your lucky stars at how comfortable it is, that you’ve floated right back into the ease that you always seemed to be in when you were around them. And Zeke too, for the first time.

Zeke spares you a genuine smile this time, as he gets closer to you.

“I think that you and I could be really good friends. We both love Eren and…and maybe we haven’t always done right by him but…”

You can tell that he’s getting tripped up by the words, that the sentiment that’s underlying is something the two of you have never really shared before. A closeness that brings you together. Because for you, Zeke was always something you needed to protect Eren from and for him, you were positive now, knowing what you did now, that maybe Zeke felt robbed of some part of that.

Getting to meet his little brother’s first girlfriend. Tease him about it, give him some brotherly advice – the way Colt did with you. That maybe he wanted the relationship that Eren and Falco had with each other with you, if things were different.

“Yeah. But…we’re going to do right by him this time. We’ll make sure of it.” you whisper back, averting your eyes to where he’s standing.

Zeke breaks out into a smile, extending his closed fist out to you as you push your own against his.

“One thing?” Zeke states.

“What’s that?”

Zeke has a nearly murderous glint in his eye when he says it. And it fills you up with a searing feeling of warmth.

“You give that asshole Scott Clarkson hell. For all of our sake.”

You give him a smile back.

“That’s a promise, Zeke.”

Eren can feel himself sweating on the opposite side of the red carpet. The stickiness of the hairspray is sitting heavy in his hair, the collar digging into his neck, and palms embarrassingly sweaty as he stares at the group of people around him.

Lana and Sukuna are fussing over fixing Connie’s outfit, Jean and Mikasa are taking shots at his side, and you can tell that Suguru Getou is truly cutting his losses at this point.

Satoru’s wearing an outfit with literal, raw meat on it.

“It’s camp!” Satoru whines.

“That was the theme last year, dumbass. And it’s not camp, you’re just a nuisance.” Megumi grumbles, pinching his nose as he joins Eren at his side.

Eren gives him a nod in acknowledgement, as he watches Yuuji at Satoru’s side, snapping excited pictures of Satoru’s meat hat and pokes his fingers into the red flesh.

“Can you believe you’re dating that guy?” Eren asks.

“Everyday I question my sanity.” Megumi mumbles.

“Could be worse. You could be married to Satoru.”

“Don’t remind me.” Suguru groans at his side, the two of them sparing a laugh.

Megumi chooses to keep the comment to himself. He swallows, pointing out that you had said the same thing to the pair of them when Satoru dressed up like that godawful cat years prior. Megumi figures that he’ll keep this thread of your invisible string to himself, for the time being – that it might not exactly be productive for right now.

Eren catches Levi’s head shifting towards him in the peripheral, as he looks over and tries to follow Levi’s line of vision. And feels his throat constrict as Ricky and Hyla walk past, the two of them sparing him and Lana a sickly sweet smile, and take their spots at the end of the line.

Eren notes that despite the fact that you had side-swept all of her designers to work with you, naturally she still put together an outfit. He was hoping that it would be worse than it actually ended up being. Though he supposed the birthday girl would always get what she wanted in the end.

“I’m ready to wipe that smug smile off of their fucking faces and I’m so serious.”

Eren nearly jumps as he realizes you’re now standing at his side, your eye nearly twitching as you watch the two of them. But all he can feel now is his own throat itching, Ricky and Hyla the least of his problems as his skin ignites at the sight of you so close to him. Your flowery perfume is invading his senses, as he fights the urge to ogle your dress full on.

“Y/N.” he whispers.

“Do I look stupid? The underslip they had for the dress didn’t fit me because Hyla’s so much taller that they just…told me to wear this matching set. I feel like I’m going to be flashing everyone.” you mumble.

“Better for you. You look fucking hot. And apparently, Hyla stole her dress from a piece that was already in the museum. I’m sure she’ll ruin it by the end of the night.” Lana states, as Sukuna joins her at the side and links his arm through hers.

The two of them have matching stitching on their outfits, wedding rings sparkling on their fingers. Eren clears his throat, your eyes expectant as you wait for a response, and his head nearly spinning from the overstimulation.

“She’s right. You’re beautiful.”

“You can say she's hot, Eren. It won’t kill you.” Sukuna complains.

Eren watches as your eyes widen, a soft pink blush running up your neck, as you avert your eyes. And Sukuna, naturally, ruins the moment by making gagging noises only to get smacked by Lana after the fact.

The two of them shuffle off, giving you a thumbs up behind their backs, as you turn to each other. Eren links his hands in with yours, giving you three squeezes, as he looks down at the dark makeup smeared around your eyes, making your eyes appear even bigger and brighter.

Eren gestures his head to the left, snaking his hand around your bare skin in the dress, and lines up directly behind Ricky and Hyla. And the two of you wait for them to walk out and follow directly after.

It goes exactly how it thought you would. You haven’t walked a red carpet since the last awards show – and from what Eren told you – it had been years since he had too.

It was simple.

Seeing Hyla and Ricky at a carpet together was almost a given, almost too predictable. It would hardly spare a headline in comparison to you two – together. Years after the fact, with Eren’s documentary behind you.

The clicking and the flashing immediately throws you off your guard, coupled with the screaming of your name, that you almost fall off the stiletto of your heels. But Eren’s quick with it, hands looped around your waist as he held you up against him.

“Thanks. I-”

“Don’t look at them. Just look at me.” Eren whispers, voice almost gravelly.

“What?”

“It’s better that way. Just act like you’re above them. Like you and I are the only people in the room.” Eren murmurs.��

You give him a nod, catching his drift as you follow his lead. And it almost works too well – easing your red carpet nerves when you literally don’t have to acknowledge them and just have to hold hands with Eren all the way down the carpet.

Eren stops dead center, right before the steps, as you spare a glance over your shoulder. The group of them are following – Satoru’s raw meat causing a commotion at the start – and you turn back to him.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you just asked me to get you a necklace for the Ricky thing, but I actually did ask them to design a custom one for you.”

You smile. You had made it a point – that you were going to stick it to Ricky for that stupid night that he left you drenched in the rain – but you failed to consider that this would happen. Though in hindsight, you should have expected it.

Eren was always thoughtful when it came to things like this.

“Really?” you ask.

Eren nods, as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little charm necklace. You take it in his hands, admiring the little charm at the center, of the planet Saturn. You frown, turning it over in your fingers.

“Does Saturn have some connection to Uranus that I don’t know about? I thought that I was supposed to be the moon.” you mumble.

Eren laughs, as he shakes his head and gestures for you to spin around. You oblige, moving your hair to the side and feeling your cheeks heat up as the paparazzi snap what feels like hundreds of pictures – of Eren clasping the necklace and then pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. His voice comes out as a whisper on your skin as he pulls you closer to him, the two of you posing for the picture.

“I mean, Marco was always a big fan of immature jokes. So I guess it does?” Eren states.

You widen your eyes as you press your fingers to the charm, realizing what it means.

Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn.

The last time that you were at the Met Gala was when you performed with Marco. You can feel warm tears accumulating in your eyes as Eren cups the side of your cheek, a soft smile on his face. He taps the little pin on the lapel of his jacket, a matching little saturn charm as you bite down on your cheeks and smile back.

“He’s here with us. Haunting us from his grave like he promised.” Eren jokes.

You give Eren a teary laugh.

“Yeah. I think he is too.”

You lean your head against Eren’s shoulder, as the two of you walk straight up the stairs into the venue. There’s a glimmering chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the stage decorated a sparkling silver.

“Do you have a Maya Angelou quote for me? She always was Marco’s favorite.”

Eren smiles.

“I can be changed by what happens to me. But I refused to be reduced by it.” Eren states.

Falco and Colt are the ones by your side backstage. You can feel your hands shaking, throwing the mic from one hand to the other, as the two of them lean their heads against yours.

You’re performing for the first time in years. Since you performed the grudge, at that godawful awards show years ago.

You choose to use the wall of pictures as a distraction. One of your favorite things about performing at the Met was that they took pictures of each of the performers and pasted them to the big walls behind the curtains. People would sign the walls, the pictures themselves – to mark that they had performed here, to immortalize themselves on the wall.

And it takes a few seconds, but you find the picture dead center. Of you and Marco. The two of you are hugging each other, cheeks pressed together with pink, teary eyes, with your names scribbled in Marco’s loopy handwriting underneath.

seven by y/n l/n ft marco bodt

And directly next to it, is a picture you’ve never seen before. Of Eren and Marco – their hands clasped together – and the same loopy handwriting underneath with the song.

“He didn’t want to take that picture. He…he made me do it. Said he should still remember the moment, even if he wasn’t at his best.” Armin states.

“Oh. Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Just checking you’re okay. First time performing and all that. And I was back here with you the last time this happened too.” Armin murmurs.

You smile, lacing your hand through his as you both stare at the pictures of Marco and you wrap your arms around Armin at the first sound of his sniffling.

“Well, this is hardly about me performing, Armin.” you mumble.

Armin gives you a watery laugh, before pulling back and wiping the wetness on his face away.

You frown as you lightly dig your elbow into his side, trying to gesture him into talking.

You were a little harsh when you talked to him last – when you had to convince him to finally forgive Eren. You regretted it after, being so rigid and forcing him into it, but you figured direction was what Armin needed at the time.

“Marco said that even though that moment was bad for Eren, that even though he felt like he was never going to recover, there would be a day that he looked back on it and would relish in the fact that it was never going to be like that again. I hate the fact that Eren’s probably having that moment right now and shit is still so awkward between us that I can’t even tell him that I’m happy for him.” Armin murmurs.

You stare at the pictures.

“I didn’t realize you were…with Eren that day.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. I called him a lot after the whole Girlfriend thing, he was kind of convinced that we all hated him. And I did the same when the whole Satellite Port thing happened too.”

Armin pauses.

“I was always there for him, until I wasn’t. And I feel like I’m fucking groveling but things still won’t be the same between us.”

“Well, don’t lose hope about that. Mikasa and I-”

“You and Mikasa are different. You’re…you overlook things easier than we do. Mikasa wanted you to be her maid of honor again after you said you wanted to sleep in her room – just because she realized you still loved her. Even if Eren knew I loved him, I doubt that would fix what happened with us.”

You lean your head against your shoulder.

“Did you finish the script yet, Armin?” you whisper.

“What?”

“Did you finish it?”

“Yeah.”

You look over at him and smile.

“That last conversation? Between your character and his? He wrote that all on his own. It’s obviously a little bit more dramatic than he intends it but…the premise is still there. You and him, still best friends at the end of it.”

Armin looks back at the pictures, running his hands through his hair, and ruining any semblance of styling in his golden locks.

“You think Marco would be pissed at us? All of us?” Armin mumbles.

“No. I know he would have loved to seen us all reconcile. That he would have been really happy for us.”

Falco and Colt give you a gesture over your shoulder, as you shoo Armin back to his seat, and readjust the feathers on the sleeves of your dress. You give Colt a smile as he hands you the last piece of the outfit, the glittery garter belt that you wrap over your thigh as you take your cue.

Eren gives you props for hundreds of things, but this one specifically. It was hard to find something that you were bad at, since it felt that you were naturally skilled at everything, but when he watched you, like this, he couldn’t help but feel like you were born for it.

You really knew how to put on a performance.

It’s pitch black, leave for your purple silhouette against the back of the stage. Of your fingers running across the neck of the guitar, playing the opening notes to the song Maki requested days prior – that you named Style.

Midnight You come and pick me up, no headlights Long drive Could end in burning flames or paradise Fade into view, oh It's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)

And I should just tell you to leave 'cause I Know exactly where it leads, but I Watch us go 'round and 'round each time

Eren watches as you pause, the entire backtrack and music stopping, as the entire crowd jumps to his feet and starts hollering for you when they finally shine the lights on you. Eren watches as you give everyone a little wave, pressing your hands to your cheeks unable to contain your smile before you gesture for everyone to be quiet so you can keep singing.

And feels his chest fill with immense pride as you walk all the way down the stage, fingers fast and smiling from ear to ear as you sing again. He can’t help but feel embarrassed as the group of them – Connie, Reiner, and Jean – start smacking him on the back, screaming about how crazy his girl was.

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You got that long hair, slicked back, white T-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

When you reach the end of the stage, Eren watches as you slightly trip on your steps, before averting your eyes down to your leg. In the mess of walking and the notches on the guitar, a part of your stockings had ripped.

Eren was impressed that you were still singing, as you reached down and took the halves of the garter belt in your hands, before you started looking out in the audience. And Eren can’t help but feel like in that moment, that some divine power might actually be real.

Because three years ago, it was Hyla’s birthday and he was stuck at a dinner table thinking about you. About how he’d never feel that rush, that thrilling electricity that seemed to thrum in his veins whenever you looked at him.

And he knows for a fact that really, it almost has to be real – a higher power that was looking out for him the entire time. Because years after the fact, he’s sitting here, blushing profusely as you throw the garter belt to him to catch, before you like down on the stage and scream your heart out.

To a song that you wrote about him.

Take me home Just take me home Yeah, just take me home Oh, whoa, oh (Out of style)

Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down (now we go), we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

“Ethan Cole! You’re just the person I wanted to see.” you state.

Fresh off of the performance, with the little note card tucked in your hand, he’s the first person that you beeline towards.

On first impression, he’s younger than Scott Clarkson by a landslide – beachy, golden hair as he stands from his share to take your extended hand.

“Y/N L/N! Quite the performance up there, my daughter is a huge fan. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ethan asks.

You give the girl at his side a warm smile, the girl barely above the age of fifteen, as you turn back to him.

“You know, I’ve really missed doing romantic comedies. I’ve heard that’s your forté,” you state.

“Is that right?”

“As fun as Attack on Titan can be, the drama can…be a little draining. I would love to get behind you if you produced a romantic comedy that I could star in.”

You watch as he pinches his smile, eyes strained as he looks around the room.

“I’m not sure how keen…some people at the company would be about that.” Ethan murmurs.

“Who said you had to do it with them?” you state.

“Huh?”

You give him the best, most sickly sweet smile that you muster. “Who said…you have to do it with him?”

You pull the little note card out of your backpocket, with your phone number scribbled over the top, and hand it to him.

“You could easily produce it on your own. And if it was a star studded movie, you could avoid the risks of being associated as a start-up all together.” you state.

Ethan pauses, for a while.

“My own company?”

“That’s right. You’re young, younger than your competition, and with how things have been going lately…I’m doubt they’ll stay afloat longer. If I were you, I’d capitalize on the fact that your own competition is about to be eliminated.” you state.

You can tell that he almost doesn’t believe you.

“I’ll have to think about it.” Ethan states.

“Sure thing, Ethan. If the situation was right, I could even be persuaded to get some of my….friends to join. And I know you’re a smart guy – there’s some publicity that other people couldn’t even dream of buying.”

You spare a glance over your shoulder to Eren at the stage with Lana, as she takes her seat at the piano and Eren begins adjusting the microphone at the stand.

“I look forward to talking to you, Ethan.”

And you give him a sickly sweet smile before you walk away. You settle back into your seat next to Levi and Connie – who had decided to take Eren’s open seat while he performed.

“How did it go?” Levi asks.

“He didn’t buy it.” you state.

Levi gives you a terse nod, as you shake your head and readjust your seat to face the stage. Connie pulls his seat up right next to yours, the two of you giving each other a smile as you link your arms together and lean your head against his shoulder.

“It’s your song!” you whisper.

Connie leans his head on top of yours, voice quiet as Lana starts playing the piano.

“It’s actually not. It’s even worse.”

“Huh?”

You lift your head off of his shoulder to eye him, and he only smiles, deviously, in return.

“Let’s just say if it was my birthday today, I’d commit a murder after this.”

You turn back to the stage, eyeing the little star decals hanging from the little ceiling, and watch as Eren nervously shakes his hands, before placing them on the mic stand. He turns to his left, giving the group of you a smile, before he starts.

“I wrote this song exactly five years ago today when I was twenty. I was stuck at a birthday party, with a bunch of people I hated, and all I could think about was how I just wished that I was somewhere else. And really, I was hoping that the person that I really wanted beside me, had some semblance of that feeling about me too. This is my new song, it’s called Glimpse of Us.”

When you're out of sight In my mind

'Cause sometimes I look in her eyes And that's where I find a glimpse of us And I try to fall for her touch But I'm thinking of the way it was Said I'm fine and said I moved on I'm only here passing time in her arms Hoping I'll find A glimpse of us

Eren always claimed that singing was never his forté and even from the way he moved – you could tell that he clearly felt more comfortable when he was acting. That he most definitely believed that his talents lied on a set rather than on a stage.

And for maybe the hundredth time, it’s clear that Eren’s own visions of himself have clearly limited him.

Because he’s beautiful.

The stage design makes it look like he’s suspended in the sky, in between the moon and the stars, and the lack of production to the song – the fact that it’s just his voice and Lana’s fingers on the piano is chilling.

It reminds you of that song that he wrote for you on the beach.

Eren dislodges the microphone from the stand, tossing Lana a smile over his shoulder, before he walks directly to the edge of the stage that’s closest to you and Connie. And uses his hand to gesture for you to come closer, as he takes a seat and dangles his legs off the edge of the stage.

You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as you pull your chair closer to the stage, right until you’re looking up at Eren from your little seat and he’s looking down at you. And as he sings, he reaches down and places one of his hands on your cheek – the biting cold of the rings on his fingers cooling the warmth on your cheek – but doing nothing to help the burning in your chest from his dark green eyes, filled with such warmth and sincerity that it makes your heart race.

You bring your own hand up to where his is on your cheek and he gives you a dimpled smile in return.

When he finishes, you press a kiss to the top of his knuckles and try to memorize the way the smile spreads across his face.

Your last chance to convince this cowardly idiot Ethan Cole to agree with you guys is at the afterparty for the Met Gala, which coincidentally, you’ve never attended.

The last time you were here, the entire ordeal was so draining – considering it was the first time that you had seen Eren since you broke up and you were here with Ricky – that you just skipped the party afterwards and went home. And you would have done the same thing now, since your hair was feeling sticky and your legs felt like lead from the heels, but you had to give it one last shot before you left.

You had taken Mikasa and Jean’s lead, and decided to take four shots with them, by the time the party was in full swing. And right before the fifth, Eren suddenly materialized after being missing for the first half of the party and slipped it away from your nimble fingers and downed it himself.

“Are you drinking?” he asks, shaking his head from the burn, before handing the glass back to Jean.

“Well, obviously not if you’re taking my glass.”

Eren reaches forward, fingers on the little ribbon around your neck, before you smack his hand off.

“I like the outfit. It’s like the scarf from the show.”

“That’s the point.” you state.

Eren rolls his eyes as you both lean back against the wall, eyeing the crowd of people in front of you.

“You should have told me. I would have matched.�� Eren states.

“How are you supposed to match? Your costume on set doesn’t have something as…obvious like the scarf.”

“I would have just done the titan marks and called it a day.” Eren mumbles back.

You nod, mulling over the idea, as you reach for the back hanging around your shoulder. And luckily for you, your lipstick is still in the bag – though most of the time, the bags that you have on red carpets have literally nothing on them – and instruct him to crouch so you can reach. He obliges, flashing you a smile, as you intently focus on drawing the lines under his eyes.

Eren takes the distraction – the focus that you have from drawing on his face – and uses it to observe you.

“Did you like my song?” Eren asks.

“You’re insane. Did you really write that five years ago or did you make that up?” you whisper.

“Nope. I wrote it after the last Met Gala, I think Hyla’s birthday was like a week or two after that.” he mumbles back.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, what you were hoping was actually true. When I was at that Met Gala, I really just wished that I was with you, sitting with the rest of the cast.”

Eren laughs.

“Who said the song was about you?” Eren jokes.

You pause, only to look up to glare at him, before you lightly shove him. And you can tell that he’s joking but it’s still irritating.

“You’re such a dick, sometimes.”

“You were thinking about me?” Eren responds, closing his hand around yours and snatching the little tube of lipstick from your hand.

He lifts his phone up, looking at the reflection from the screen of his phone, as he messily finishes off the marks on the other side, more messy and jagged. And as annoying as he is, it’s extremely attractive when he does it – capping the lipstick and curling it back into the palm of your hand.

“You wish.” you respond.

Eren leans against the wall and you join him at his side, the two of you eyeing Ethan Cole at the end of the hall, with Ricky and Hyla posted up on the other side. You can’t help but seethe with anger as you watch the two of them together, curling your hands into little fists at your side.

“I saw that video that was going around on Twitter a little while ago. Of you and Ricky, last time you were here.” Eren responds.

“What video?”

“It was on the red carpet. He like…grabbed your arm and shoved you.” Eren clarifies.

“Oh! That’s right. He was trying to introduce me to John and I said some crap about him to Historia. Then, he got all pissed saying that I had to be nice to him or whatever since he was nice to you guys.” you respond.

Levi and Hange walk up to the pair of you, arms linked together, as you straighten up. The two of them had weary eyes, focused on Eren, as they look around.

“Eren. He’s here.”

“Who’s here?” you ask.

“Scott Clarkson. He just walked in – guess he’s not deciding to skip after all.” Hange responds.

Eren leans forward, angling his head over the crowd of the people, towards the opening at the front of the hallway and feels his throat turn to sandpaper. Eren clenching his fists so hard that he’s sure he’s drawing blood, the entirety of the conversation almost lost to him as he feels himself nearly losing balance on his legs.

“You’re free to leave, Eren. We have a car ready for you. If you want to stay, we’re here with you.” Hange states.

You look around to the other side of the room to find Connie talking to a group of people, none of which you knew. Mikasa and Jean are a few feet away – but clearly drunk out of their mind – and you can’t seem to find anyone else who could stay with him. You jerk your head back, to the two of them.

“Listen. I’ve got Eren. Could you guys check that Connie’s going to be fine?”

Hange and Levi turn their heads to the side, giving you a nod, as they speed walk to the other side of the room and you link your arm in with Eren’s. He’s still staring at the other side of the room and you lightly tug on his arm to catch his attention, his eyes almost dazed when he looks at you.

“Sorry. Did Hange and Levi say something?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. We can leave if you want to, there’s a car and everything.”

“No…no, we didn’t talk to Ethan Cole yet. And, it’s fine.” Eren responds, shaking his head.

It’s not that Eren’s exactly scared of Scott Clarkson, though there was a point in time that he most certainly would be. It’s more that he’s intimidated by what could go down, because while Eren knows that he isn’t exactly being swayed by him anymore, it’s a debilitating reminder every time he makes a comment that sends Eren tumbling back down.

“Lana and Sukuna are together. I sent Hange and Levi to check on Connie. And I’m here with you, so…so all the bases are covered.” you respond.

Eren smiles.

“You’re here with me? What are you going to do?”

“Punch him in the face.” you respond.

Eren laughs.

“Are you crazy?”

“Do I look like a comedian to you?” you ask Eren.

“You look more like a clown to me.”

You feel your eyes widen, as you turn to your side and find Hyla and Ricky standing right to the left of you and Eren. You’re not sure what it is, but Eren suddenly squared his shoulders back, muscles tense at the sight of them.

“Do you need something?” Eren asks.

Hyla rolls her eyes as she looks at Eren, before turning back to you. And her eyes flicker to the necklace around your neck, before she looks back up at you and smiles.

“Cute necklace!”

Eren grins at your side. They took the bait.

“Do you like it, Ricky? It’s custom Tiffany. I had it made special for Y/N myself.” Eren asks.

You watch as Ricky furrows his brow, slightly clenching his jaw and nearly pink in the face, as he rolls his eyes in response – very clearly understanding the reference.

“I don’t know where the fuck you think you get off, Eren. Need I remind you, that while I was at the top of my fucking career you were cleaning up a baby’s diapers.”

You watch as Eren’s eye twitches, knuckles white at his side as he doesn’t respond. And it only gets more agitating since Ricky clearly gets off on the fact that Eren refuses to fight back, and takes it as an invitation to keep going.

“Seriously, dude. You started at the fucking top of the food chain – your parents are literally Grisha and Carla Jaeger – and yet you’re slumming it with Lana and Sukuna. Lana’s quite literally the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Don’t pretend like you’re both not trying to get your five minutes of fame by talking about me. And don’t even get me started on how pathetic Sukuna is for what he said in that dumbass documentary the two of you made. Donating to sexual assault victims won’t fix a lack of talent.”

“Where do you get-”

“Y/N.” Eren states, silencing you all together.

“That’s right, Eren. You better keep my sloppy seconds-”

Ricky doesn’t get to finish the statement, because Eren’s punched him in the face. Not once, not twice, but three times to the point where he’s tackled him onto the floor, a bright red decorating his knuckles.

“Y/N. What the fuck? Get him to stop!”

You know that it’s petty. That maybe if you were a little bit of a better person, you actually would have asked Eren to stop. But Ricky James was quite literally the worst person you had ever met and deep down, there wasn’t even a single part of him that didn’t deserve what he was getting right now.

You crouch down on your knees, Eren momentarily stopping to look at you, before you shake your head and look down at him.

“I’m so sorry, Ricky. I don’t think I can do that right now.”

Eren smiles, as he lands one more punch, before a very drunk Jean and Reiner are able to pull him off – Maki and Pieck at your sides as they rub into the softness of your arms. You shake your head, signaling to them that you were fine, as Eren looks over at you over the accumulating crowd of people, and gives you a gesture. You nod, as Eren extends his hand out to you, and the two of you walk to the other side of the room. You eye the blood on Eren’s hand, all Ricky’s you’re sure, as Eren stops at the table and starts filling the cups with the lemonade.

“We need a drink.” Eren states.

“That’s what got you pissed off, Eren? When he started talking bad on my name?” you mumble.

“I love your name.” Eren defends.

You smile.

“Though, I always felt like it’s missing something.” Eren adds.

You roll your eyes.

“And what’s that, huh?”

“My last name.” Eren responds.

Eren watches as a blush creeps over your cheeks and try not to laugh when you mutter something that sounds an awful lot like fuck you under your breath as he passes you one of the glasses of lemonade. Which is right when Lana comes up and snatches the glass from his hand and slams it down on the table.

“Are you a fucking idiot, Eren?” Lana seethes.

“What?” Eren responds, giving her an annoyed shrug back as he takes the glass back and hands you one.

“You promised, Eren.” Sukuna responds.

“You two can get your panties out of a twist. I didn’t break any promises.”

“Do you think I’m blind, Eren?” Lana asks.

Eren rolls his eyes, as he leans down, bringing his face closer to Lana’s. It’s the same thing that Colt does to you – on the rare occasions that he’s able to prove you wrong.

“You made me promise that if Ricky said anything about Teddy or you, I wouldn’t say anything. And Sukuna made me promise that if Ricky said anything about him, I wouldn’t do anything, because it would upset you.” Eren states.

That’s why he didn’t say anything.

“Our princess over here didn’t force me to make any promises like that. So the second he called her sloppy seconds, I did what I had to do.” Eren responds.

Lana’s eyes widen, as she turns her head to you.

“What a dick. Are you okay?” Lana asks.

“I’m fine. He said worse about you guys, I wanted to punch him myself.”

Eren smiles, as he leans down to look at you.

“Too bad. He’s getting escorted out on his ass now, so you lost your chance.” Eren responds, pointing towards the door.

And surely enough, the security are taking him out with his hands secured behind his back – no thanks to the obscene screaming he’s doing – while Hyla looks maybe the most irritated you’ve ever seen before. She spares you one last glance, to which you and Eren respond with glimmering smiles, before she walks out.

Lana gestures towards the bathrooms as Eren follows, presumably to wash his hands, leaving you and Sukuna by the table, nursing the little glasses of lemonade in your hands. And wordlessly, you extend your glass out to Sukuna – and thank your lucky stars that he understands – as he pulls the little flask from the pocket and pours it into your drink and then his.

“Eren’s been waiting for that one.” Sukuna states.

“I’m shocked you haven’t.” you respond.

“Maybe before. But you know, with the kid, you have to be a good role model and all that. Plus, I hate when Lana lectures me because she gets really mean.”

You snort.

“I’d be scared of her too.” you respond.

“Speaking of scared, how many drinks until he falls off?” Sukuna asks, pointing to the left.

You follow his line of vision to find Yuuji standing on top of the bar, tie loosely hanging around his neck and pink in the face with Satoru, as he sings along to the music playing from the speakers.

“Which one are you talking about? I think they’re both well past that point.” you respond.

“Yuuji, obviously. I’m going to stop him before he ends up on a headline.” Sukuna responds.

“You have fun with that. I’ll watch from over here.” you respond, as Sukuna walks away.

When you scan the room for Ethan Cole, you find that he’s already looking at you. You give him a polite wave, positive that whatever Eren just did with Ricky James must have swayed him some type of way, as you lean back against the edge of the table. And the table dips slightly under you, nearly making you spill the glass of lemonade, when you find Scott Clarkson leaning against at your side, his beady eyes fixed on you.

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m so glad you were finally able to learn my name.” you respond.

Scott clicks his tongue in his cheek, before extending his hand out to shake it at you. You begrudgingly oblige, skin curling with disgust as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, and leans back.

“I’ll admit, I had you pegged all wrong in the beginning. But I’m sure that you can understand, it can be so hard to trust new and upcoming talent like that when you run a big company.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” you deadpan.

“I think we should let bygones be bygones. I even think that we could be useful to one another. If you really wanted full ownership of your albums back, I could get it for you. Just a few movies, here and there, and they’d be back in your hands.”

You feel your throat dry.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I’m sure you know I am well acquainted with Danny and Sareen. I’m sure I could persuade them, after a little give and take.”

You thank the heavens that the stylists had stacked each of your fingers with a perfect set of silver rings. You sure it made it hurt even more when you slapped him across the face.

“You have some nerve, you asshole. Don’t even think about-”

You feel a set of arms on your biceps, squeezing hard, as you turn your head to find Levi at your side. You shake your head, turning back to Scott, who no whas a group of people around him, inspecting the red mark you’ve left on his cheek.

“Levi. Fucking, get off.”

“This is not the time for this. You and Eren are leaving, you’ve had too much to drink.” Levi responds, pushing you out into the cold air outside the hall and near the taxi.

Eren’s leaning against the car door and he quickly jumps up at the sound of your voice, meeting Levi at your side.

“Did you hit him, Y/N? They’re saying that you hit him.”

“I slapped him.”

Eren pinches his mouth into a line.

“Did he hit back?” Eren asks.

“What? No. Levi started yanking me off of him before I could get another one in.”

Eren passes Levi a thankful smile, before ducking your head into the taxi, and tuning back into your rambling.

“He’s such a dick. He fucking had that coming, trying to offer me a career like I don’t know who he is and what he fucking does. Like really, even down to being an opportunist, does he really think I care about my album that was already stolen from me over all of my friends? Over you? I think he’s a psychopath and we didn’t even get to solidify the deal with Ethan Cole or-”

“Okay, Y/N. Relax. It’s-”

“We have to do something to get his attention. Something crazy. I have an idea but…you have to follow my lead, okay?”

Eren’s slightly hesitant. Only because he can tell that you really are tipsy from the light pink tint in your cheeks and the way that you’re shaking your legs. But he hates to tell you no, especially when you’re staring at him so expectantly, waiting for an answer.

And when you drag Eren into a sweaty tattoo parlor, Eren realizes that maybe you’re well past tipsy.

“I technically picked what we did last time, Eren. So it’s your turn. Just make sure it’s something like…fucking crazy. Like iconic.”

Eren has an idea. But he can’t say it. Because you can’t possibly get that tattooed. And he’s sure that it’s showing on his face, because now you’re giving him an excited smile, jumping up and down on your feet waiting for him to tell.

“Oh my god. What is it? Tell me right now.”

“Uh. The moon and the ocean.” Eren responds.

You frown.

“We already basically have that as a tattoo, Eren. With the fish? And I can tell that’s not what you were going to say.” you respond.

Eren sighs.

“Y/N. It’s too much.”

“Nothing’s too much! Come on, it’s you and me that we’re talking about. We got fucking matching tattoos when we were like eighteen and released songs about quite literally fucking each other on the same day! We can get a crazy tattoo!”

“You’re so crass when you’re drunk, Y/N.”

“The word Levi used was homicidal.” you respond.

Eren sighs, as he tells you his idea, and watches your face light up. And after the fact, Eren can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the world.

Because for a second time now – the two of you are running down the streets, bathed in the dim lamplight and laughing into the night. Matching tattoos of each other’s names on the inside of your lips, a confession on the tips of your tongues like you were two soulmates destined to be together.

That’s the moment you’re able to coin it.

You’re head over heels in love with Eren Jaeger. Again. Maybe even worse, more desperately than the first time.

And as the perfect cherry on top, Ethan Cole sends you a message confirming the deal the following morning.

next part linked here

an: are you catching my hint for the songs in our next chapter.....which is an AWARDS SHOW CHAPTER ARE WE READY. and don't worry....scott clarkson and danny/sareen welcome to your tape...this next chapter is for you

(pls tell me someone gets the pussy joke that megumi made and that im not just horrendously chronically online)

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636

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kylekirkwoods · 6 months

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— f. scott fitzgerald happy birthday mark @russilton <3

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ladyofthenoodle · 8 months

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Joss Whedon, Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 2 Episode 7: Lie to Me // F. Scott Fitzgerald // The Diaries of Franz Kafka, 1910-1913 // Taylor Swift, Delicate // Derek Landy, Death Bringer // Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait in Letters

a webweave for chapter 10 of lies of attrition. happy birthday @wackus-bonkus-maximus!

#miraculous ladybug #lovesquare #web weave #lies of attrition #yes this is for me as much as it is for you and you knew i was making it anyway #but i wanted you to have something to open from me on your birthday 💜#remind me to post the chapter card for chapter 2 today as well!#noodling

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parsheliii · 5 days

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Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

"Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza... Err... This is your first night isn't it Great-"

"George, that's the wrong one"

"What?"

"That's the wrong script, you are reading the wrong one!"

"Uh...Oh! I see now, this one?"

"Yup"

"K...

Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria! Where all dreams come true!

Come enjoy a slide of pizza with all your family and friends while listening some fancy music from the Fazbear's Band! Or hearing some curious stories at the Pirate Cove.

Alfred Fazbear, the leader of the band, with Benjamin Babier, our guitarrist, will be the waiters that will assist you when their performance is over, they will be the ones to bring all your wants and needs.

Chanelle Cairo, our sweet vocalist, will also be the chef and cook, the pizza's recipe hasn't changed in decades, the main creator being Alfred's father, Dock Fazbear.

...

I gotta add that Freddy doesn't know how to cook and he is a fucking failure to his family, even his sister was the chef in her own pizzeria back then, how can you be the only one that can't even fry an egg, Fazbear??"

"Keep. Reading. The. F*cking. Script"

"...And last things last, Felix Farley, being our storyteller, is also our delivery, you will get your pizza in a blink of an eye if you use our delivery services!

Being said, the bear here himself, George Kietzman, will be the one taking your phone calls and orders by calling 1-800-083, don't forget delivery services is just for night time!

Afternoon phone orders will have to be taken in the pizzeria's location.

Other things to let you know:

• Fazbear's Band perform every monday to thursday from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m., so write that down in your schedules and don't miss it!

• Pirate's Cove is exclusive for saturday nights and birthday parties, so don't forget to book your next birthday party at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria to enjoy some new stories from our beloved pirate fox!

• Friday nights are the perfect nights for YOU to perform! Come over and show all your talent, or just have some fun at the karaoke with your friends while singing the songs of your choice!

• We are closed on sundays, so we will be seeing you on mondays back again!

That's it, how did I do?"

"...Could have been better"

____________________________________

Endless Show At Freddy's is based on the characters and story from Five Nights At Freddy's, owned by Scott Cawthon.

The story and characters are REALLY different. It includes a lot kind of relationships and ideas that aren't canon in game, but they are in this AU, if you aren't happy with them, I'm not going to change them just 'cause of ya', so keep your words.

The same goes with some characters' genders and designs, they might change from the original character, just because! For the fun of it :]

Who is who? Here is a short list:

Freddy Fazbear→ Alfred "Freddy" Fazbear

Bonnie The Bunny→ Benjamin "Ben" Babier

Chica The Chicken → Chanelle Cairo

Foxy The Pirate Fox→ Felix Farley

Golden Freddy→ George Frederick Kietzman

Notes:

• Mr. Cupcake is Chanelle's pet, he is a chihuahua. He doesn't work there, I just wanted to show how Chica's cupcake looks like in my AU

• If you have been here long enough, George still has ear piercings, but in this reff sheet I couldn't add them because they are in his other ear (this is mostly a note for myself, because I will probably forget lol)

• Felix has another outfit when he works as the delivery, I just preferred to show him with his pirate clothes, I don't want anyone confused by 'why doesn't he have pirate clothes???" I'll do an individual reff just for his delivery clothes, including Chanelle, she also has another clothes while cooking, i'm not going to let her cook with that cute dress!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #esaf #fnaf au #freddy fazbear #digital artist #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the fox #golden freddy

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tiredsmashbros · 1 month

Text

🍔 TIREDSMASHBROS INTRODUCTION

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ W E L C O M E ! ! 🍔🍟🥤

🌿 howdy! my name is tomm + tsb. i use both he/him and they/them pronouns. i'm queer, demiboy + pan + aroace spectrum, and i am an adult, twenty-one ; jan. 10.

🪵 i'm a comic, furry, and multi-fandom artist. i specialize in digital art primarily, minor wood handcrafts, bracelets, or play on my silly harmonica. currently senior year in college.

🌻 i struggle with dyslexia, i apologize in advance for any minor grammar errors! i'm a bit slow responding to responses + mentions so i'd appreciate some patience.

↳ i speak english + spanish ↳ mexican + el salvadorian + texan

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ C O M I C S ! ! 🍔🍟🥤

MARIO COMICS 🍄 ↳ DONE mario and luigi superstars ; sketch comic ↳ bowuigi rewritten -> DONE, NEED TO EDIT

SMG4 COMICS 🧢 ↳ DONE smg34: lip bite prologue {part one} ↳ DONE smg34: lip bite : chapter one {part two} ↳ smg34: lip bite : chapter two {part three} -> CURRENTLY WORKING ON

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ F A N D O M S ! ! 🍔🍟🥤

SHOWS / FILMS 📺; {bold = fixated atm} ↳ my little pony, south park, animaniacs, looney tunes, mickey mouse, ducktales, felix the cat, bluey, total drama island, grojband, danvs, regular show, gravity falls, ninjago, teenage mutant ninja turtles, moomin valley, how to train your dragon, dragon ball, centuarworld, one piece, naruto, fullmetal alchemist, jojo's bizarre adventures, hlvr:ai, khonjin house, eddsworld, helluva boss, hazbin hotel, lackadaisy, trolls, better call saul/breaking bad, smg4, meta runner, murder drones, fairy oddparents: a new wish, popee the performer, the great gatsby, holes, the sixth sense, kingsman, matilda, beetlejuice, deadpool and wolverine

VIDEO GAMES 🎮 ; {bold = fixated atm} ↳ minecraft, five night at freddy's, cuphead, super mario bros, sonic, undertale, bendy and the ink machine, poppy playtime, baldi's basic, garten of banban, cult of the lamb, friday night funkin, pizza tower, parappa, amanda the adventurer, choo choo charles, epic mickey, rabbits, spyro, rayman, duck season, billie bust up, genshin, wuthering waves, god of war: ragnarok, red dead redemption

NOVELS + COMICS / MANGA 📚 ;{ bold = fixated atm} ↳ scott pilgrim, warrior cats, garfield, charlie brown, ganbare nakamura-kun, heartstopper, goosebumps series, mashle, usagi yojimbo, promised neverland, beastars, show-ha shoten, gokurakugai, + above

MISC ; {bold = fixated atm} ↳ dawko, matpat, fuhnaff, coryxkenshin, dashiexp, isaacwhy, yeptheboys, sam and colby, cg5, peso pluma, welcome home, sherlock & co

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ T S B : S M G 4 A U ! ! 🍔🍟🥤

🍔 most may be familiar with me from my smg4 oc, TSB! a yellow, white, blue, burger-loving, cartoon individual with a propeller hat who's beloved for his silly personality. stick around and attempt to uncover the mysterious lore hidden within this animated maniac! if you want to know more, check out his tags, comics, and spotify playlist !!

↳ #tsb , #tsb askbox , #tsb theories , #tsari , #tsb memes ↳ official tsb reference sheet !!

↳ comic tsb: strange, unpredictable, dangerous! ↳ comic tsb: smg4, why don't you trust tsb with tari? ↳ comic tsb: outfit change w/ mr. puzzles! ↳ fanfic tsb: happy birthday, bluejay [2k] ↳ NEW !! comic tsb: painting tutorial!

💛 thank you for stopping by, and hope you have a wonderful visit !!

#tiredsmashbros #artists on tumblr #introduction #introductory post #intro post #im fancy now #Spotify

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beezusvreeland · 10 months

Text

dear reader - chapter 1

summary: Miguel took the reader’s love and friendship for granted. Something he learns reading her column, when it’s too late…Or is it?

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader // matt murdock x reader

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

The tears falling from your eyes should be happy ones. It was a huge accomplishment, a dream you never thought would come true. You got a scholarship to attend the University of Edinburgh summer writing course. Almost two months of writing and learning for free in a city you’ve wanted to visit long before Outlander was even a thing.

You would have the opportunity to focus on your writing while exploring the town that inspired so many writers before you. It was all you ever wanted.

Yet you were laying down on your bedroom floor, all the lights off in your apartment, the outfit you spent so much time trying to find (and so much money to buy) still on your body. You felt paralyzed. No heartbreak has ever felt like that before, not even the ones also caused by Miguel.

When people asked you what type of relationship the two of you had, you just answered friends. It was easier, usually killing any follow up questions. You know that was his answer too, you’ve heard it before. His tone, however, was much different than yours. Miguel would play it down, as if it was a ridiculous question, more ridiculous than the idea that the two of you could be more to each other.

But friends don’t go home together after the bar closes late at night, laughing and whispering, drunk on more than the drinks you had. Friends don’t flirt with each other crossing all the lines, just to leave you hanging, wondering to yourself if you imagined the whole thing, if you saw more than it actually was.

But also, regardless of any time of messiness, friends don’t bail on each other at the last minute, making up some excuse which you can quickly find out is a lie.

“Is mr. O’Hara joining us anytime soon?”, the waiter asked you politely. It was obvious you had never gone to such a nice restaurant, but it was a celebration. You wanted to dress up and share your news with the person you cared about the most. Earlier you had been so excited you barely slept, hoping that things went smoothly, that maybe a change of scenery reminded him of what the two of you could be.

You had been waiting for an hour, sipping from the least expensive soft drink on the menu, when Miguel sent you a monosyllabic text saying something happened at Alchemax. Your body was familiar with that disappointment. Miguel was a prolific scientist, head of the biotechnology and genetics department, always doing important work. Things that could actually save people’s lives. You were so proud of him, but couldn’t help feeling sad. You scheduled the dinner almost a week prior, checking in with him several times during the week to make sure he could go.

On the Uber home, you tried not to think about the pang in your chest so much. You opened Instagram and scrolled for a bit, then started watching some stories, without paying much attention. Until you saw him. It was his assistant’s, Lyla, profile. The video showed people singing happy birthday to someone called Scott. There was Miguel. You recognized a few faces from Alchemax, but couldn’t for the life of you remember any Scott — and Miguel loved telling you all the company gossip. Next story, still from Lyla: people dancing to “Party in the USA”, by Miley Cyrus. Far back, Miguel said something in a woman’s ear. It was Dana, a pretty brunette with short hair, brilliant like Miguel and also crazy for him, which you couldn’t blame her for. In the video, she hands Miguel a bottle of beer. He then kisses her.

You loved Miguel O’Hara, was there for him every single time he called and waited years for him to realize you were the one for him. The soul crushing truth was that he never would. The only time you asked for him, where all he had to do was show up, he didn’t. He went to some random guy’s birthday instead of being there for you. There was your answer.

*** “C’mon now”, Miguel flexed his back, a red drink in his hand. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, buddy.”

“I think you and pretty Dana have been doing more than just kissing and that’s what you ain’t telling”, Hobie had a smirk on his face.

Pavirt approached the group holding two beers.

“Two beers? Are you in a rush, mate?”

Pav took a breath, trying to open one bottle without letting the other slip from his hands.

“You know, I should have, it’s packed today and it’s not even game day”, Pav looked around The Bar, the place Miguel and his friends would go to after work almost every day.

Miguel preferred the nice bars downtown, but after going to The Bar a few times to meet Hobie, the place started to grow on him. It had been years and The Bar just got bigger and better. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed, the place was becoming such a staple that now there were lines to come in. Thankfully, Foggy, the owner, always made sure to find a spot for his “day ones”.

“Passing through, passing through!”, Gwen made her way to the group, followed by a tall guy with glasses who looked slightly disoriented.

“Am I seeing right?”, Miguel pointed at the man, who smiled back at him. “If it isn’t Peter B motherfucking Parker!”

“How many of these have you drunk?”, Peter approached his friend, giving him a hug. “Oh shit, he is hugging me back, this is really serious!”

Miguel laughed, patting Peter’s back. He had no idea how many drinks he had at that point. They were all just so red and sweet.

“Friends, this is Pete, a friend of mine and Gwen’s from college.”

Hobie and Pav nodded at Peter, who smiled at them.

“What are you doing here, buddy? Haven’t seen you since your Daily Bugle days.”

Gwen had taken the second beer from Pav’s hand and opened it. “I found him wandering around like a lost puppy”, she pointed at Peter.

“I spent some time abroad, now I’m back in the city, taking photos here and there”, Peter shrugged, looking uncomfortably at Hobie, who was squeezing his eyes and seemed to be whispering something to himself.

“Hobie, are you ok there, pal?”, Gwen asked, arching one of her eyebrows.

“The math isn’t mathing”, he answered.

“How much have you drunk?”, Pav asked his friend.

“Just a bit, smoked a lot though”, Hobie was still analyzing. “There is someone missing…where is y/n?”

Miguel’s eyes widened. “Shit, I was supposed to reschedule this thing with her”, he grabbed his phone from his pocket, struggling to type his password correctly.

“Don’t bother”, Gwen told him. Her arms were crossed and she glared at him while taking a sip of beer.

Miguel realized he was indeed very drunk and confused. He noticed Gwen hadn't looked at him since she arrived, but he hadn’t thought anything of it at first. He felt weird, like he was being reprimanded for something.

“What do you mean?”, Miguel’s brows furrowed.

“As we speak, she is flying across the pond.”

“Oh, shit, already?”, Hobie sobered up for a moment.

“What is the time difference again?”, Pav asked.

“What are they talking about?”, Miguel froze. They were speaking as if she was far away. They were speaking as if they already knew she was going far away.

“She got the Edinburgh summer writing program scholarship. She left tonight”, Gwen answered.

“I don’t remember her saying anything about it.” Miguel wondered if you were mad at him because of the dinner and didn’t tell him because of that. You would do that sometimes, ice him out. That annoyed him, but you were more affected by it than him. He was always able to charm his way out of it.

“Of course you heard, mate, c’mon, she took you to dinner to celebrate”, Hobie sounded frustrated.

“Which didn’t even make sense, if anything, you should have taken her out to celebrate”, Pav added, giving Miguel an exasperated look.

“I canceled the dinner, something came up at work.” Miguel looked at his feet, still confused, but feeling the weight of the guilt.

He looked up, only to find Gwen’s eyes, full of anger and disappointment. She knew he was full of shit. Miguel wondered how she would even know…unless you knew it too.

“¡Mierda!”

“I take it your friend is a writer, then. That’s really cool”, Peter said to Gwen, Pav and Hobie. “She writes fiction?”

“Non fiction, mostly”, Gwen answered, her expression softening. She was so proud of you. Your writing barely paid your bills and less people were reading nowadays, but you took your art seriously, refusing to give up such an important part of yourself. “She is a freelance writer these days. She just published a profile of Mary Jane Watson, the actress who’s all the buzz on Broadway, in Bliss magazine.”

“Wait, that is the y/n you are friends with?”, Peter got excited. “God, I love her interviews. Honest to God, I cried when she told Mary Jane that it’s ok to express your opinions, that they can be fleeting and not set in stone.”

“Ugh, I love that part!”, Pav agrees, putting his hand on his chest.

“Did you read it, Miguel?”, Peter asked gently. He was clearly trying to light up the mood, Miguel kind of hated him for that. Peter didn’t even know you and seemed to know so much about you already.

“No”, Miguel answered coldly.

“Miguel refuses to spend US$ 5 on the paywall”, Gwen snorted.

“Buddy…aren’t you, like, rich?”, Peter looked at him.

“That’s how he stays rich, alright!”, Hobie clapped, drawing the attention of the people around them.

“What the fuck…?”, Miguel’s head started to throb. It might’ve been the drinking, but he had the impression his friends were ganging up on him. It was annoying. Especially because they were (mostly) right. “I’m not paying that for an article”, he grunted.

“It’s a subscription!”, Gwen rolled her eyes, growling. “It’s a way to support the writer's and editor’s work, so y/n can keep writing profiles, think pieces and her great col…her great work”, Gwen corrected.

While the group kept discussing what they had been reading lately, Miguel tried his password on his phone a few more times, eventually getting it right. He was pretty sure Gwen was about to say you had a column, so he typed bliss magazine + column. The first result was “dear reader: the advice you didn’t know you needed”. He clicked on the link: the pop up alerting that the content was behind paywall appeared.

***

Dear reader,

I’m a firm believer in the power of words. It’s what moves me and what both excites and terrifies me about writing this column. The same word can be heartfelt or cutting, it all depends on the delivery. Speaking out loud can be just as important of a tool as listening attentively to what people have to say.

I guess I have spent so much time looking for words, either from myself or others, that I haven’t always paid attention to actions. They matter too. There is a lot of meaning in what is left unsaid. If the actions don’t match a person’s words, it’s time to take a step back and think deeply about it.

That’s a lesson I learned too late. I wanted someone so badly I was willing to accommodate it all, the excuses, the absences and the stolen glances that never led nowhere. It took me years and many mornings waking up by myself to realize that if he wanted to, he would. It seems obvious, but things are so much more complicated with matters of the heart.

And our hearts are precious, no matter what others say. So, in truth to my words, I decided to share a big accomplishment in my life with people who I knew would celebrate me and recognize what this goal means to me. And in truth to my actions, I’m on my way to a big adventure.

When your heart breaks, there is only so much you can do. I’m doing it.

Protect yours and remember, never take advice from someone who’s falling apart.

Love, The writer

______________________________________________________________

>> chapter 2

all chapters

______________________________________________________________

dear diary playlist

#dear diary fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #matt murdock x reader #miguel o'hara fic #matt murdock fic #miguel o'hara #matt murdock #unrequited love #second chance romance #Spotify

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night-daily · 1 year

Text

He likes you more than sarcasm| Stiles Stilinski x f! reader

summary: It's Stiles's birthday and you don't know what present buy him so you ask for help to Scott.

warnings: none.

a/n: hii everyone, hope u like it and please let me know for any mistakes because english isn't my first language:]

Since early in the morning you have been running all the mall trying to get the best present for Stiles, it wasn't that you forget his birthday actually it was the opposite his birthday was the only thing on your mind since two weeks ago but still you haven't found anything and, to be honest, you were struggling right now so you decided that you needed help from the only one who knows Stiles a little better than you, Scott McCall.

Stiles on the other hand was worried about you, why? well, it's easy, turns out that you have been so concentrated on the present that you forgot to call to wish him happy birthday or at least a message like you always do on his birthday. You have been always the first person to call him since you two met.

You arrive at his house, knocking on the door impatiently waiting for him or someone to open but without a response, you used the key that according to the pack it was supposed to be only for emergencies but this was an emergency... well at least for you.

''Scott! Where are you? I need your help!'' you yelled as you stepped into his house as if were yours.

Scott who was sleeping on the couch, gets startled by your voice and your presence standing in front of him ''first of all, you scared the shit out of me'' he says holding a hand in his chest ''and how do you even get into my house? It was locked'' he raises a brow.

''I'm not here to talk about how you should change your lock because everyone in the pack has a key'' you just shrugged and you sit down next to him.

He just rolls his eyes at you.

''So why do you need my help anyways?''

''Okay, so as you know It's Stiles's birthday and I have no idea what to buy him this time, I actually asked him what he would like to receive and he just says and I quote you don't need to buy me something, your presence it's enough to make me happy but that can't be true, everyone knows that it's something you say just to not sound like you are a materialistic person but deep down you want to be surprised'' as you finished to say Scott can't believe it how oblivious were you, Stiles literally has confessed his feelings to you. '' I mean, what else he likes besides the sarcasm?'' you started to walk from side to side, thinking.

''Well, he likes you more than sarcasm- oh shit'' Scott's eyes widened as you froze in your place ''what did you just say?'' you were shocked, he mean it? Stiles really likes you? The same guy you fell in since you saw him sleeping in class drooling over his notebook?

''Stiles it's gonna kill me...'' Scott mumbled to himself.

Before you started to ask him so many questions, the front door of the house opens abruptly, scaring the two of you while Stiles started to walk with his phone in hand without realizing you were there.

''Dude I think something happened to yn, i have been calling her but she doesn't pick up and both of us know she is always the first one to congratulate me on my birthday no matter how early is''

''You like me?'' you asked him still in shock.

And in that very moment, Stiles dropped his phone on the floor his head moving to look at you, standing a few steps away from you. His cheeks turned red instantly and was hard not to notice.

''I'm sorry and good luck bro'' Scott patted Stiles's shoulder and run upstairs to his room.

You came closer to Stiles '' so... it is true?'' you asked him again, your voice full of hope. ''yes, I like you'' he murmured nervously avoiding your gaze, and slowly started to step backward ''I'm sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable i know you don't feel the same-'' '' but I do, i like you too, Stiles'' you cut him off as your heart started to racing.

There was a silence for a few seconds, then Stiles grabbed your wrist and this time he came closer to you, so close that your noses were touching, and finally, he kiss you, slowly and tender, a hand caressing your cheek and after a moment, you both break the kiss to breathe some air, damn air.

''By the way, happy birthday'' you chuckled.

''This is literally the best gift I have ever received'' he grins and connects your lips one more time.

#stiles stilinski #scott mccall #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfic

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reputationbarbie · 11 months

Text

❝one thing about me, i aint taking no shit❞

read the rest of the read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.

A/N: hi. did y'all hear 1989 tv? it was really good. also, i blacked out (happy halloween) so, sorry this chapter is late. i really have nothing to say other than this isn’t edited so ignore any mistakes. please leave feedback in the comments ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: joel and the sweetest baker have their first fight. the sweetest baker rethinks if she wants to be with joel.

Chapter Warnings: angst, language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

⋆ word count: 4.6k⋆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

Time seemingly taunts me on Tuesday afternoon with a slow bakery and 3 employees. The fretting about the pie recipe paid off and the bakery made it into the Chicago Tribune for best fall treats. We sold out of pickup orders the next day but no one wants to get their pies this early in the week.

My mind drifts watching Ellie’s slow and methodical paint strokes. I wonder what her biological parents did to have that much talent weaved through her DNA. Dina sits on the floor next to her, reading her an astrology book. The two girls appear sickly in love and I smile, standing from the chair.

The iPad next to me dings and I'm reminded that it’s 11:15 a.m., time to start baking birthday treats for Mayor Thomas’ annual fall bash. I mentally run through the list in my head. They asked for chocolate cupcakes with pumpkins on them. It’s simple, Imogen.

I feel like I’m losing it as I walk back towards the kitchen. When I enter the room, two of my employees are sitting, aimlessly tapping away on their phones. Furying climbs up my shoulders when I realize I’m paying them to play video games on their phones back here. “Look alive, ladies,” I snip, walking over to the cupcake storage.

They both both their phones away, apologizing profusely. “It’s fine. You can make up for it by helping me ice two hundred cupcakes,” I say nonchalantly and I hear nothing but groans in return.

I shuffle around the kitchen grabbing all the necessary tools before popping my headphones in. If I have to ice two hundred cupcakes, I’m damn sure going to be doing it while listening to “1989 (Taylor’s Version).”

I click my favorite vault track and smile when the music fills my head. My body uses muscle memory as I buzz around, filling the piping bags with icing. Since the cupcakes are already done and cooled, it takes little to no effort for me to decorate them. Nearly half of the album plays and my pan is done in half of the girls' time. But I created the recipe so of course it is.

Carefully, I place the cupcakes aside until they’re ready for pickup. My heels click on the pink tile beneath me as I walk back to the front to check on the girls. When I round the corner, I hear Chloe talking on the phone. Her shoulders are hunched over; her body language for ‘I’m dealing with a shitty customer.”

I creep behind her as best as possible but she hears the sound of my shoes against the floor, slowly turning around. She tries her hardest to manage the situation herself but after seeing her struggle, I extend my hand for the phone. She puts it in my palm, giving me a silent thank you before returning to her task.

“I’m sorry, this is Imogen Scott. I’m the owner. Can you explain the situation again?” I speak into the receiver.

“Hi Imogen, it’s Rebecca. Mayor Thomas’ assistant,” she speaks frantically.

I nod, pacing slightly around the bakery. “Oh hi, I just finished the cupcakes. You’re still scheduled for the 2 p.m. pickup, right?” I confirm with her.

She kisses her teeth and lets out a small sigh. “About that,” she starts.

I shake my head, panic starting to cause a tightening in my chest. “No. No, no, no. Don’t do this to me, Rebecca,” I plead.

“I’m sorry. The Thomas’ just tested positive for COVID,” she elaborates and I sigh.

I can’t be mad because someone is sick but what are we supposed to do with two hundred cupcakes? “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I express sympathy for the family.

“Mayor Thomas sends his sincere apologies and promises to pay for the full order,” Rebecca apologizes for her boss.

Oh, he doesn’t have a choice. I understand emergencies but I’m definitely charging every last penny to the government. “That’s great but I still have… you know what, it’s not your problem. Have a good afternoon,” I say clicking the end button on the phone.

When I turn around, Chloe is still standing nearby, awaiting the tea. “So I have some good news and some bad news,” I tell her.

“Good news first,” she requests.

I press my eyes closed, trying to push away the oncoming migraine from this fiasco. “Situation is handled and they’re still paying for the full order,” I tell her, and she high-fives me for charging them my worth.

Chloe smiles and nods. “Awesome! Now the bad,” she waves for me to continue with her hand.

“We have to figure out how to distribute two hundred perishable cupcakes before closing,” I quickly spit out.

Dina seemingly overhears my phone call and stands while Chloe greets the customers who’ve just entered the shop. When Dina is in front of me, she shrugs. “That’s easy, every customer gets a free cupcake with purchase,” she says nonchalantly.

“That’s great for 50 of them. It’s so slow and I don’t want to count on that,” I explain, gesturing towards the bakery.

Chloe hums in response before taking care of the customers who’ve just approached the counter. “What can I get y’all today?” she asks gleefully.

“Two dozen cookies. Half sugar, half chocolate chip,” the woman speaks for the group.

“Wow, sounds like you’re going to a big party,” I say over Chloe’s shoulder, handing her some boxes.

A younger and quite frankly attractive man steps up in front of me. “Office meeting,” he flirts with a wink.

On any other day, I might flirt back with him out of boredom. But the more I look at his smirk, the more I find it disgusting. Joel’s smirk is suggestive like he already knows what I want. I’m starving to wake up next to Joel and I’d rather die than wake up to the man in front of me.

My vision blurs as I allow Chloe to get them checked out and out of the store with their box of free cupcakes. After she wipes the glass counter top she pauses, turning around to face me. “What about Dina’s book club at the school?”

I think back to my drunk shenanigans and the fact that I almost laid hands on a parent while in that building. “I’m not going back into that place until Christmas time,” I complain before turning my head towards Dina.

“Either you take them or have James bring them to you when he clocks in,” I urge her to pass on the directions and Dina mutters agreeing responses.

I step in front of the counter, surveying what supplies we have left. We’re almost sold out, so the cupcakes will come to good use. “I’m going to drop some off at the Austin. Maybe their employees can take them home,” I tell her, rotating on my heels to face Ellie and Dina. “Girls, no–”

“Drinking, drugs, sex. Got it,” Ellie groans the mantra I’ve drilled into her head from her spot on the floor.

Chloe’s face lights up with a smile after processing the information. “That’s a good idea,” she praises.

“Thanks! Text me if you need anything. I shouldn’t be long,” I tell her, grabbing a large pink box to put the sweet treats in.

My body is filled with a giddy feeling thinking about the possibility of seeing him for the first time since Friday. And honestly, I’ve never been more excited to see someone.

The elevator dings to let me know that I’m on the floor of the Austin. I step off confidently carrying the boxes of treats up to the host stand. “Welcome to the Austin. I’m assuming you have a reservation,” he welcomes me into the restaurant.

The deja vu from my birthday hits me like a truck and I shake my head. “Oh, no. I’m here to see Chef Miller,” I reply.

The host looks at the boxes in my hands and then back up at me. “Do you have an appointment?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, but,” I start before I’m cut off.

“I’m sorry. I can’t let you back there. If you want to schedule an appointment with him, maybe he’d be willing to try your,” he pauses to look skeptically through the clear cover on top of the pink box. “Cupcakes,” he says disappointingly.

Yeah, well no fucking cupcakes for you asshole. “He’s already tried my cupcakes, his daughter–” I cut myself off to take a deep breath and compose myself. “Look, Joel’s my boyfriend,” I try the last-ditch effort. Hopefully, Joel will hear baker and girlfriend then have a fucking clue.

The host’s eyes widen and he clears his throat. “Oh, let me go check with him then,” he dismisses himself.

Another host quickly replaces him, keeping the front of house running smoothly. I step out of the way, allowing customers to file in from the cool autumn afternoon. I pace around the lobby, watching my heels click on the marble floor. The toes of my shoes kiss the window and as I peer down below, I can see the masses of people crossing the clogged city streets.

That annoying throat-clearing noise sounds out again from behind me. I turn around to show this prick that he has my full attention. I’ve been nothing but fucking nice to you, asshole. “I’m sorry. Chef Miller is predisposed and every employee I passed said he doesn't have a girlfriend,” he tilts his head and patronizes me.

“Fuck this, I’ll go talk to him myself,” I grunt, stepping past him and quickly walking towards where I suspect the kitchen is.

“Ma’am,” I hear the host call over my shoulder as I make my way through the restaurant. My eyes quickly scan the room, finding the pattern of employees flowing in and out of the kitchen. I beeline confidently towards their path. “Ma’am you can’t go back there,” I hear the host repeat and he confirms I’m correct.

I shrug, fed up with the bullshit. Joel might be mad but I can explain later. “I can and I will,” I call over my shoulder.

As I’m walking down the hall, I hear crashing in the kitchen. The employee doesn’t let up with harassing me to the door. I pause for a second contemplating if this is the right thing to do.

Fuck it. You’re already here, Ginny.

I push through the double doors and the first thing I see is a white wall. But the crashing of dishes and the screaming doesn’t pause. “Y’all need to take your head out of your fuckin’ asses and start realizing what the hell is goin’ on here,” he barks, as I round the corner.

The chefs and employees are wide-eyed, some of them in tears. Nobody speaks, just accepting the abuse from the older irate man. “Most chefs I’d know would be fuckin’ embarrassed,” he reaches in front of a chef with a plate sitting on the table in front of her. He snatches it, crashing it down on the metal surface. It hits the tabletop and the porcelain and food scatter on the grey tile beneath it.

The noise causes me to jump ten feet in the air, nearly dropping the box of cupcakes. “Do you think we’re gonna get a fuckin star with this shit,” he growls.

Joel doesn’t stop there, picking up the next closest plate of food he’s determined uneatable and chucking it across the room. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you,” I watch as Joel points in each of their faces, spitting the degrading words.

The feeling of sympathy for the chefs weighs heavy on my heart. None of them can be older than 25. They’re babies and he just crushed their dreams of becoming chefs in 20 seconds flat.

Joel’s back rises and falls rapidly, as though he’s on the tip of a spiral. “Get your shit together!” he swears, removing the towel from his waist and slamming it down on the counter.

My feet quickly and quietly start moving backward in hopes of avoiding Joel. Tears well into my eyes and I trip on my own feet. I don’t know Joel. Not this one. This can’t be the same Joel who offered to whip me up something special on my birthday. Now I realize that whoever made my food on that day probably got fired.

Up until this point he’s been nothing but sweet to me. He’s shown me nothing but his good side. The first time he got angry with me, I checked him. But that’s not an option for his employees.

When Joel rounds the corner, his eyes meet mine and he stops in his tracks. His breathing hitches before he inhales a sharp breath. “Ginny,“ he utters lowly almost as if he’s afraid. It’s a complete 180 from his previous behavior.

I set the stack of pink boxes on the shelf next to me. “Here’s the cupcakes I brought for you, because I care about you, Joel. I care for you and Ellie and I wanted to see you. Come to find out you’re treating your employees like the shit on your shoe. That’s fucked up Joel,” I fume.

Joel purses his lips before stepping forward, attempting to box me in like her always. “You weren’t–”

“No,” I hiss, sidestepping out of the way. The simple yet quick action causes the tears to spill over my brim. “Ellie’s at the fucking bakery right now. Does she know? Is that why she didn’t want to work for you? I treat my employees with kindness and you rule with fear. The fuck are you doing, Joel?” I croak out, attempting to hold on to the last sliver of composure I have left.

You just don’t treat people like that. I don’t give a fuck about a star or a stripe. “I don’t know,” he sighs, rubbing his eyebrows with frustration.

I shift, leaning on my opposite leg with my hand on my hip. “You don’t know what?” I articulate sharply.

Joel throws his hands in the air. “Fuck, sugar. I don’t know anything. I was just trying to teach them how I was taught,” he argues.

My eyes flicker back and forth between Joel’s brown ones. They’re full of regret and my shoulders soften. “You don’t have to be the abusive boss your head chef was to you, Joel,” I explain.

Joel’s eyes dart towards the ground like an ashamed puppy. “Here, take these.” I place my hand gently on the top of the box. “Maybe share them with your staff. It’s a step in the right direction at least,” I advise, walking out of the kitchen.

I don’t turn around when I hear Joel following me and calling my name. I don’t speak to him when he picks up Ellie that night. And I’m unsure if I want to anymore.

Thanksgiving Day

Tommy clears his throat before he shovels a spoonful of pie into his mouth. “Mmmm,” he moans. “This is good, Ginny,” he compliments happily.

The rest of the table chatters in agreement. After being stuffed full of Joel’s meal, they needed a warm dessert before bed. The fluffy layers of the crust flake apart perfectly in my mouth; taste buds bursting with cinnamon and apple. Fuck, this is going to knock me smooth out after Joel’s meal.

I can feel him staring at me. He wants me to look at him, but I can’t. If I look at him, we have to have a conversation. I don’t want to do that in front of our friends and family. This entire Thanksgiving has been awkward as fuck between us. But god, I miss his lips, his smirk, his tan fingers interlocked with mine.

Maddie and Leo made themselves useful and created a burier in between me and Joel. But Ellie and Tommy are seemingly oblivious to our little spat, which I’m grateful for.

“No wonder this made it into the Chicago Tribune. This is divine, Ginny,” Mrs. Crown compliments, pointing towards the dessert with her fork.

I smile, bashfully looking down at my palms locked in my hands. “Thank you, Mrs. Crown,” I murmur.

Someone drops their utensil and it clatters against their dish. “You made it into the Tribune?” I hear Joel ask in shock.

I glance up at him for the first time tonight, studying his bug-eyed disposition. “Uh, yeah. Forgot to tell you,” I come up with a quick excuse.

Joel gave my face a once over before sitting back in his seat. “Hmph,” he grunts and I can tell he’s not buying the diversion.

Ellie had celebrated with me all week, having already been at the bakery. But when I found out, I told her I wanted to tell Joel on my own time. We just never got to that after the Monday fiasco.

Ellie slyly leans over and whispers to the disgruntled man, “Joel, say congrats.”

Joel’s head slowly rises until he’s peering at me. He’s pissed and I can practically see the steam exiting through his pores; his blood is boiling. “Congrats,” he mutters.

I take the cloth napkin out of my lap, leaving it on the table before standing. “I’ll be right back,” I mumble, swiftly walking out of the dining room. Before I fucking cry again in front of Joel.

I feel like the small hall is swallowing me whole. My head is pounding, and the tears begin flowing down my cheeks. I never want someone I care about to be mad at me.

Bursting through the kitchen door, I stare at the staff wide-eyed. They whisper to each other before exiting the large space, leaving me alone to calm down.

Once they’re gone, I crouch on the ground with my back against the cold wall. And only then do I allow myself to let go, crying until I feel like I’m suffocating on my own tears. My chest tightens, and I hear ringing in my ears, unsure of what just happened.

I’m brought out of my thoughts when I hear the kitchen door creek open.

“Ginny?” I hear Ellie’s voice ring through the room.

I hear her footsteps walking over to me and I quickly brush the tear stains away, praying she doesn’t notice my tomato face. I reach my hand out to grab the counter next to me and use it to support me as I stand, grabbing a bowl to use as a cover.

I plaster on a smile, putting the bowl in front of me. “What’s up, El?” I ask.

Her head tilts and she walks closer to me. “Is something going on between you and Joel? You’re both being weird as fuck with each other,” she speculates. Fuck. Ellie’s no idiot and I know that.

My nostrils flare and my vision blurs. I’ve always been great under pressure, but talking to Ellie feels heavier than a rude customer. “Well, you’re not wrong…” I trail off, abandoning the bowl. “Uh, we just had a heated conversation,” I confess.

Ellie’s brows knit and the curiosity seeps through her pores. She’s not gonna let it go. “About what?” she asks.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll all blow over tomorrow,” I reassure her, shifting awkwardly to lean on my other leg.

Ellie’s lips part and I know she’s about to argue when Joel appears through the doorway. “Ellie, time to get going,” he waves her towards him.

The air in the room is thick and I feel like I’m drowning in the swimming pool that is the tension between Joel and me. Ellie apparently senses the same feeling I do, and she scrunches her nose. “Okay…” Ellie elongates the word, tip-toeing out of the kitchen.

I avoid Joel’s gaze to no avail when I see his tattered brown boots before me. He inhales a sharp breath, causing my hair to scatter around my forehead. “Sugar,” he rasps, and his fingers touch mine.

My eyes latch with his and I have to remind myself not to melt in the amber waves. “Joel,” I mutter.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, his shaking fingers toying with mine.

I gnaw on my lip, leaning back a little so there’s space between us. “I know, Joel,” I reiterate.

He curses under his breath, abandoning his attempt to slyly hold my hand. “What can I do to make it up to you?” he asks.

And here we are again, back at the beginning. What doesn’t he get? The people working for you are human. “Treat your employees with respect,” I instruct.

“I’m trying that. We’ve had a good day, let me show you,” Joel stresses.

I shake my head, slowly blinking from exhaustion. “You can’t do it in one day,” I remind him.

Joel takes a step forward to box me in. “I know,” he sighs.

I reach my hand up and caress the skin on his face with the back of my hand. He leans into my touch, humming softly. “You have to change the culture of your business,” I gently remind him.

Joel nods, and his hand slides up my waist. “I will. It’s just, I need you, sugar,” he emphasizes with so much need, I’m eager to forgive him. “This week has been shit without you. Every time Ellie mentions you, I feel like hell,” he continues.

We’re adults; There’s no reason for us to go back and forth. “Okay,” I conceded.

Joel’s face twists and he jerks his head back slightly. “Okay?” he asks, his voice thick with confusion.

I nod, feeling my jaw relax from previously being clenched. “I don’t wanna fight with you. I missed you a lot,” I admit.

Joel’s mouth curves into a small smile. “I missed you too,” he returns the sentiment. “Those pretty eyes, your perfume,” he says, putting his hand under my chin. “Missed these,” he finishes, dragging his thumb over my bottom lip.

“How about you kiss me since you’ve missed me so much?” I offer, with a raised brow.

His face lights up with excitement. “I can?” he asks for consent.

I nod, returning the small smile. “Please,” I stand on my tiptoes, giving him better access.

Joel leans down, connecting his lips with mine. My eyes flutter closed and I give into him, allowing him to take full control of the kiss. He hungrily dips his tongue into my mouth, seemingly desperate for more. I oblige him, craving the same thing. Maybe more than I can get right now.

His tongue swirls with mine and I moan quietly. Joel lightly squeezes my neck, tilting my head back. The feeling of the counter-pressing into my back gives the sharp pain to the pleasure I so often crave. My hands find their way into Joel’s head, tugging on his root. He groans into my mouth, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, I hear a throat being cleared behind me. Joel takes a step back, parting our physical connection like the Red Sea. When I turn around, I’m embarrassed to find Tommy, Maddie, and Leo standing near the entryway. “Finally, you two made up,” Tommy throws his arms up dramatically.

Maddie dramatically rolls her eyes, walking over towards me. “I honestly couldn’t take it anymore,” she complains.

Leo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. He’d been a dick to Joel all evening and the guilt is written all over his face. “Sorry for harassing you tonight, man,” he apologizes to Joel.

Joel shrugs and I’m grateful that he understands Leo’s protectiveness over me. “I get it, you care about her. Too much to lose,” he empathizes.

Ellie comes around the corner with her burgundy coat zipped up. The fabric makes a swishing sound as she walks, reminding me of my own childhood. “I’m ready,” she announces, a hat secured on top of her head.

We all file out of the kitchen, bidding the Miller’s a goodbye before I realize, I should probably go home too. Grabbing my coat out of the closet, I struggle to get it on successfully. Joel comes up behind me, gabbing the shoulders of the jacket to assist me. “You want a ride home?” he asks lowly.

Maddie picked me up so I assumed I’d leave with the first person out. Happy that it’s The Millers, I nod. “Yeah, I’ll ride with you guys,” I graciously accept his offer.

The four of us file out of the house on the chilly evening. The physical manifestation of my breath floats in front of me with each rise of my chest. Maddie and Leo wave goodbye from the front door before shutting it once we’re on the curb.

Joel unlocks the black truck, opening the back for Ellie to climb in. “Tommy, in the back,” he barks at his brother.

I put my hand on Joel’s bicep, attempting not to fantasize about him picking me up and fucking me against a wall. “No, Joel. Tommy’s legs are longer than mine in the truck,” I let Tommy take the front seat.

“You sure, sugar?” Joel confirms.

I smile, stepping up on the side rail. “Positive, sweetness,” I respond, sliding in next to Ellie.

Joel raises his brows, before nodding. “Mmm, sweetness. I like that,” he says.

“I bet you do,” I murmur back before he shuts the door.

After dropping Tommy off at his place, Joel invited me over to his for a glass of wine. I’d never seen his place, so I gleefully took him up on the offer.

My eyes scan the room and I notice the dust covering the top of the blinds, as if they’ve never been moved. There’s barely anything on the walls that accompanies the neutral paint, aside from a few art pieces I assume are Ellie’s.

The kitchen is humongous with an identical double oven like mine. There are pictures on the speckled kitchen counter and when I look closer I see Ellie, Tommy, and a little girl I’ve never seen before. My head tilts as I take in her brown curls and freckled face. She looks like she could be related to me. “Woah,” I breathe out, sliding into the seat next to me.

It’s uncanny, and it’s making me queasy. “Fuck, right? Joel doesn’t see it,” Ellie startles me a bit, adding her two cents.

“Ellie,” Joel scolds his daughter.

I turn toward Ellie, thinking of the best way to explain this to a kid. “I don’t think he wants to compare his daughter to anyone, El,” I start. But, I wonder if that’s why he was so drawn to me in the first place.

Ellie plops down onto the worn leather couch in the living room. “No shit. I don’t like it when people compare things to my mom’s,” she says over her shoulder before clicking the TV on.

“Ellie,” Joel grunts before opening the fridge.

Fed up with his repetitiveness, I groan at the two. “Joel, she’s expressing herself in the way she can in an appropriate space. Let her swear now so she can learn codeswitching,” I rant, pausing to take a deep breath.

My attention turns toward Ellie who is now fully invested in me ripping her father a new asshole. “Now school? No fucking way, kid. I don’t need to come up there and cuss someone out again,” I warn her.

Ellie puts up her hands in defense. “Sounds like a sweet fucking deal to me,” she smiles maniacally.

Joel shakes his head, popping the reusable cork out of a wine bottle. “Hell, you two are going to be the death of me,” he predicts before pouring a glass for me.

Ironically, Joel and Ellie are the only daily sparks of life I have left.

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