#i imagine its like ubereats

[imaginethatsupernatural]

“Wha-...(Y/N), what are you doing delivering my grub? I thought you were supposed to be on a job...?”

GIF: PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS YOUR GIF.

[seeingivy]

funeral

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

content: depictions of grief, talk of addiction/anxiety

an: i am alive (mostly). eat your cake, even though I think it Is bad (this chapter was the hardest to write, right next to the "the third act" chapter

songs mentioned: marjorie by taylor swift

previous part linked here

--

“What are you thinking, Eren?” Hange asks. 

The question is stupid. Eren is thinking of the only logical conclusion that he can draw from the autopsy report. The implication of it, of how Marco really died, is sitting right in front of him.

The patient is a twenty-three year old Caucasian male with no significant medical history. Emergency services responded to the scene of a motor vehicle crash around nine p.m. At the scene, responders found that the patient was trapped in the vehicle, upturned on the side of the road, with no pulse at the time of arrival. Patient was declared dead on scene. Autopsy concluded that primary cause of death was asphyxiation, secondary cause being severe loss of blood due to injuries in the extremities. 

“I’m thinking that the paparazzi killed him, Hange.” Eren spits. 

“Eren.” 

“Hange, don’t. Just-” Levi mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Levi’s eyes are borderline gaunt. Eren knows the past few days have sat horribly on Levi’s shoulders and perhaps the past year and a half have too. 

The guilt is excruciating. Because all Eren knows how to do is ruin people.

He dragged Levi and Hange into his mess, when he asked them for help. But it had gone too far at that point, the interview, the night on the beach, the fight - he had exhausted all ends and desperately needed someone on his side. 

Levi and Hange all but berated him for it. For letting it get so far, for waiting so long when he should have known that they were always there to help. But this reaction, Levi being the one to side with his outburst is proof enough that he made the wrong choice, that he should have stuck with himself. That them bending backwards and forwards to get him out of his mess has truly taken its toll. 

Levi and Hange always mimicked him and you. Eren and Hange, he knows they both have a tendency to get so lost in the emotion, to feel it so deep that the response is too loud, too much for what’s called for. That’s when you and Levi would come in, to soothe them down and bring them back to Earth. 

In the same vein, you and Levi, you planted your weeds too deep into the ground. Rooted in exactly what he’s not quite sure - perhaps misplaced insecurities, whatever the two of you seemed to hide in those deep inner walls - but it kept you both stagnant, stuck where you were. That’s where Hange and Eren came in, pushing you both to soar a little bit higher than what you imagined for yourself. 

But now Levi’s here, all but exhausted and broken, the same way he’s sure you were. That’s why things got so fucked up. Eren didn’t let you pull him down. He didn’t pull you up. 

“They killed him, Hange.” Levi states, tone void of any emotion. 

“Levi. It’s almost midnight, we’re all feeling emotional right now. We should look at this all with a clear mind tomorrow.” 

“They killed him. There is nothing to look at.” Levi says, enunciating every inflection of his words. 

Eren knows it for a fact. And from the look on Hange’s face, he knows they do too. His train of thought is cut off by the knocking - rapid, loud consecutive knocks slamming against the wood. 

“God, Eren. Go get it now before they run off with our food.” Hange murmurs, gesturing towards the door. 

Eren shuffles past the length of the hallway and swings open the door to find not his UberEats bag, but Lana, out of breath and panting on his doorstep. 

“Ew. You just left two hours ago. Why are you back already?” 

“Eren. Oh my god.” 

Lana wraps her arms around him, squeezing hard, as she cries into his shoulder. Her demeanor settles an immediate panic under his skin. The last time she reacted like this, Eren had to watch the most gut wrenching interview of his life while she held his hand. God knows whatever she’s about to tell him now is going to break him.

Eren brings his hands up and grabs her shoulders, applying pressure to stop her from shaking in his arms. 

“Lana. What’s wrong with you? Why are you-”

“Eren. I’m so sorry, you- I’m here for you, okay? Whatever you need, just-just say it.” she pants, hiccuping in between her tears.

Eren frowns, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her out of the cold Seattle air into the kitchen where Hange and Levi are cooking by the stove. 

“Hi Lana Bear! How are you, kid?” Hange says, all but bouncing over to wrap their arms around Lana. 

This only upsets Lana more, the discomfort worsening in Eren’s chest as he can’t help but stare at her, at her brown eyes turning almost red from the downpour of her tears and the tension sitting in her shoulders. 

“What is it? Who died?” 

The question, when Eren asks it, is entirely rhetorical. A figure of speech, meant to emphasize that Lana’s reaction was extreme, too obscene for whatever it is she must be talking about. But when she doesn’t respond and swallows hard, the look on her face so crestfallen, Eren’s chest settles into a panic. 

His first thought is you. 

“Lana. Is she dead? What are you-” 

Lana scrambles for the remote on the counter, switching from the Disney Channel to the first news report she can find. The image is of an overturned car, the metal crushed and steaming in the front, accompanied with words that burn Eren’s ears. The first hit is relief - that it’s not you. The second hit is painful, like the air’s been sucked out of his lungs. 

Because it’s Marco. 

“What?” Levi says, taking his eyes off the stove to glance at the screen. 

Eren can feel his phone incessantly buzzing in his pocket and he reaches for it immediately, Lana leaning into his side as she continues to cry into his shoulder. Levi and Hange are moving closer to the television, like that’ll somehow make the sound better, the image clearer, like they’ll be able to find falsity in it. 

jean: the bodt’s said the funeral is going to be near the old house. ask levi and hange if we can all stay in the townhouse together. 

bertholdt: reiner and i are heading over tonight. 

sukuna: Let me know if you need anything. Give the paparazzi hell for this one. 

connie: i’m coming back to seattle. i-i don’t know if i can do this. 

Eren’s quick to respond to that one. 

eren: i’ve got you man. meet us in new york as soon as you can, we’re all going to stay at the townhouse. don’t leave sasha’s side until you get there okay?

connie: alright. okay, thanks. 

eren: phone is on. 

“This is bullshit. How do they know it’s him?” Levi says angrily, hands crossed over his chest. 

“Levi.” Hange says, voice nearly cracking. 

“No, I’m being fucking serious. How do they know that this guy is our Marco? There’s no proof. Call the Bodt’s right now.” Levi says, pacing the kitchen for where he left his phone. 

Eren frowns, his head racing as Levi walks the length of the kitchen and Hange settles into their immediate panic.

“Eren.” Lana says. 

“Hm?” 

“I have to tell you something. You’re going to hate it. I-” 

“Just tell me, Lana. No-no beating around the bush.” 

“The paparazzi…got to him first before the police.” she whispers. 

“What?” Eren says, through gritted teeth as his head all but short circuits. 

“They knew it was his car, he’d been driving it around that part of Nashville for a while. They were probably just following him to get pictures wherever he was going. But then he-he crashed and-” 

“And what? They took pictures of it? Of him?” Eren asks, squeezing Lana’s shoulders too hard. 

“Yeah. They-they only called the police when they were done, Eren. I-” 

The tears fill Eren’s eyes as the implication cuts deep. It all but sears the air in his lungs, the tears welling so fast that it’s already obstructing his vision. All he can feel is Lana’s hands, squeezing his biceps, as he tries to control the heaving in his chest. 

“How long?” 

“Eren.” she says, tone so pitiful it makes his blood boil. 

“How long, Lana?” he asks, voice cracking. 

“It took them forty-five minutes to get there. They would have been there in fifteen.” she whispers. 

And now, the autopsy report tells him enough. With a definitive resolve that the paparazzi killed Marco. Because he died from asphyxiation, from being twisted in the metal, not getting any air. And if the police had gotten there maybe a moment earlier, a second faster, they could have gotten him out, could have at least made sure he was breathing. 

They wanted a picture. Marco died for it. 

The anger surges through Eren, tenfold when he remembers the paparazzi lining up Jean and Mikasa’s engagement party, Falco’s school, his house the day his grandpa died. When you walked into his garage, drenched from the rain with a deep cut on your face and skidded knees, scared to death. 

“I’m done sugarcoating, Hange. Eren is right. They killed Marco.” Levi responds. 

Hange sighs, leaning against the counter as Eren walks up to them, resting his head against their shoulder. They all stand there in silence, not even seventy-two hours after the fact, and it still hasn’t hit Eren. 

In full flesh, that Marco is gone. 

The rapid knocking on the door, real this time, breaks him out of his thoughts. 

“Probably Zeke or Armin. I’ve got it.” he murmurs. 

“Thanks kid.” 

Eren watches as Levi sinks into Hange’s arms, sighing as he shuffles to the door and flicks on the porch light. He swings it open and immediately feels his throat tighten, fully constricted, at the sight of you standing in the lamplight. 

You’re looking up at him, swallowing hard, as you stare into his eyes and all Eren can do is wonder if your brain is short circuiting as much as his is. Surely, it isn’t. Eren has every reason to be embarrassed, to be ashamed. And you don’t. 

For posterity, he fights all instincts, every urge in his body, to reach forward and hold you. To let your sweet flowery smell take over his nose, to settle his face into that crook in your neck, to have your soft, soft touch running over his skin. To let the mountain of emotions he’s been carrying fall, because you’re here. 

But he can’t. 

“Hi Eren.” 

“Y/N.” 

He can’t help but inspect every micro-movement, every gesture you make. Your eyes are nearly glassing over with tears and you’re nervously fidgeting with your fingers. You’ve dropped your gaze to focus on the ground, a habit you always had when you were sad, as your voice breaks into the air. 

“Can I ask you something? Please?” you whisper. 

He reaches forward, hands on your shoulders, squeezing once and praying to god you remember what it means, as he nods. 

That he’s here and he’s got you. 

“Anything. What is it?” 

“Is he dead?” 

Maybe not anything. 

He can’t be the one to tell you. You of all people that Marco died, at the hands of the paparazzi. The same paparazzi who in your very pointed words, gutted your first love like a fish. Who were partly to blame, who drove you out of here alongside him. 

“Y/N.” 

“Is he?” you repeat, voice smaller. 

“Okay. Let’s go inside, you-”

“Is Marco dead, Eren? I’m asking you a question.” 

Your anger in your voice is enough to make him stop in his tracks, the second time your voice is laced with that animosity that it scares him into responding. He hears it, in his worst hours, echoing in his mind. 

How many times are you going to keep breaking shit without any care in the world? The camera, the fucking award you picked over me, Connie’s fucking livelihood, my heart. God, Eren. All you’ve ever cared about is yourself. From the start.

He swallows hard. 

“Yes. Marco’s dead.” 

And you don’t even know the half of it. 

He watches your glass tears, the ones sitting right on the edge of your eyelashes, fall in full force, onto your cheeks as you immediately start hiccuping, hands clasped against your chest. 

“I-I saw it on the news. I-I didn’t believe it but I- They always lie about stuff. I thought it was the same as that and-” 

“Y/N, come ins-” 

Your panic sets in so fast, so quick that Eren doesn’t even register it. Because one second you’re panting and the next Eren’s watching you retch onto the grass Connie mowed this morning. Eren pushes you into the house the second you stop, straight to the kitchen where Levi and Hange are still standing in their spots. 

“Wait, is that-” 

“Do you guys know if we have something like…anti-nausea? Is that what you do when someone throws up or-” Eren asks. 

“Is that Y/N?” Levi asks. 

“Yeah, she-she was on the porch, I-” 

Levi’s quick to walk up, hands on your shoulders as he talks, voice quiet and calm when he speaks near your ear. Hange moves to Eren’s side, her face wearing that concerned look she gives him too much these days, as they both rummage through the cabinets for anything that could help. 

“Y/N. You okay?” Levi asks. 

“I-I threw up on the-the porch. On the g-grass. So-sorry.” 

“It’s just grass. What’s-” 

Eren tries to still it - that pounding in his heart - as he walks over with the glass of water he filled up for you. Your hands must be wobbling too much because Eren doesn’t let the glass go, instead tilting your head up softly with his hands and pouring the water into your mouth. 

“Hey. Drink some more for me.” Eren states, voice soft as he instinctively reaches forward to fix the hairs sticking to the sweat beading your forehead, feeling your skin burning under his touch. 

“We should take her temperature.” Eren says. 

Levi and Hange dart out of the room, to the drawer upstairs where the thermometer is, as Eren takes breaks between helping you drink the water and rubbing circles into your back. 

Eren can feel every muscle in his body tense, his skin burning when you lean forward, forehead resting against his chest as you groan out in pain. 

“Hey. You with me?” Eren asks, murmuring straight into your hair. 

Eren feels your breathing still against him, his hands intuitively wrapping around you this time, cradling the back of your head in his hands. You hum in response to his question, which is a good enough answer for Eren now.  

“Found it.” Levi says, all but speed walking as Eren spins you around, watching as Levi meticulously pushes your sweaty hair out of your face and holds the sensor against your head. You’re all standing there in silence, craning over the little plastic as the two consecutive beeps go off. 

“98.6. You’re okay, Y/N.” Levi mutters, setting the thermometer back on the table. 

“Thank you, Levi.” you respond back, rubbing your arms on your biceps as you stare at the two of them, withdrawn and withholding from you. 

Granted, you’d do the same. You wouldn’t rush to their arms either if they ignored you for two years. 

“You can take this for nausea. If it happens again.” Hange says, placing a bottle in your hands. 

“Sure. Thank you, Hange.” you respond. 

The silence hangs in the air between the four of you as you stand there, each of you racking your heads for the right thing to say. Eren wants to tell Levi and Hange to stop being so rude, that they were the ones who were begging you to come back and now that you’re here they won’t even talk to you. Levi and Hange are debating which one of them should yell at you first, for being withdrawn from them and not asking for help the way Eren did. And you’re figuring out who you should apologize to first, between the three of them. 

None of you break. Because it’s not the right time. Because Marco is dead. 

“Everyone is sleeping together upstairs. There should be an extra air mattress up there, Eren will get it for you….knock if you need something.” Levi says, tone exasperated as he shuffles away. 

“Welcome back, kid.” 

Hange gives you a full smile as they follow him, leaving you and Eren in the kitchen. The distance Levi is putting in between you and him stings, but you swallow the burn and remind yourself that you’re the one who inflicted it on yourself. 

At the time, after the interview, the rationale made more sense. Nonsensically, you decided that you were done with the industry and that, by proxy, meant that you were done with them too. You did your interview and stuck to your word, never looked back. 

It’s humiliating now. Debilitating thinking about how much you must have hurt them. Because each of them, they continually reached out until it stopped. Mikasa made every effort to have you come to her engagement party, that she would even stop the press from coming for Vogue the way they had planned for you. 

And when you didn’t show, all she did was send you pictures, of her and Jean cutting the cake and of the dress she had bought for you to wear. Hange and Levi were so vigilant about it, on making sure that you were okay, that you had security details, that people really were leaving you alone. You didn’t heed any of their efforts, because for all intents and purposes, you were leaving the girl you were behind. 

Her dreams, the love she held, the friends she had. 

It seems stupid now. It seems incredibly and gut-wrenchingly stupid that your last words to Marco were over two years ago because you were punishing him for something that wasn’t his fault. That you can’t go to any of them for comfort because the thing that they need comfort from is you. 

All you know how to do is ruin people. 

“Are you hungry? Or do you want to go to bed?” Eren asks. 

“I can go to bed. Levi said air mattress?” 

“Yeah, we’re all sleeping together in the loft upstairs.” 

“We?” you ask. 

“Mikasa and Jean are here. Ymir and Hisu, Bertholdt and Reiner, Connie and Sash. Everyone else should be getting in tomorrow.” 

Eren pads towards the stairs and you awkwardly follow, crawling up the stairs behind him. You can hear the loud chatter of voices, talking over each other, as you try to catch the ends of their conversation. 

“But where do they go when you pee?” Sasha asks. 

“Fuck do you mean, where do they go?” Reiner says, voice incredulous. 

“Like in the bowl? Because if you’re sitting on the toilet, they have to go somewhere?” Sasha repeats. 

“Sasha. It’s almost one in the morning. Please stop talking about balls.” Ymir groans, earning a good amount of laughs from the group. 

“Eren, tell them all to shut the fuck up.” Jean groans, forearm over his eyes as he and Mikasa roll around on their mattress. 

Eren looks at you, eyes weary, before he turns to respond to them. 

“Y/N’s here.”

They all peek their heads up, curious eyes falling on you, as you give them a halfhearted smile, trying your best to wipe your sweaty palms on the back of your dress. 

“Hi guys.” 

The silence is deafening. You can’t pick what’s worse - Reiner and Bertholdt squinting their eyes at you or Mikasa and Jean refusing to look at you. 

Mikasa and Jean. 

Historia stands up, strutting over from her air mattress, to wrap her arms around you, the pressure of the hug so hard you can barely breathe. You breathe in her smell, spicy and sharp the way it’s always been, as she pulls away. Her warm hand is resting on your cheek, the smile on her face so genuine that it untangles the smallest parts of discomfort on your chest. 

“Hi princess. Missed you.” 

“Thanks, Hisu. I missed you too.” 

That’s always been the thing about Historia. That she’ll pick up, even when you haven’t called her in two years, and run to your aid. 

“How’d you know we were here?” Jean asks, hands resting on his knees. 

“I asked Historia.” you respond. 

“Told you I was her favorite. She reached out to me before you.” Historia mutters, flopping back onto the air mattress she’s sharing with Ymir. 

“You’re so arrogant, Historia. And full of shit.” Jean responds, rolling his eyes.

“You’re so right, Jean-Boy. This is just like what we fought about earlier.” Connie responds. 

The group of them break out into an argument, Historia looking like she’s full on about to wrestle Connie as he only instigates her on. Mikasa’s already resting with her eyes closed as Jean turns pink in the face from his irritations. 

And you can’t help but laugh, warm tingling in your chest at all of them, wholeheartedly the same. You look over at Eren and smile, which he returns. But despite it all, that stillness, that outsider feeling sits in your skin. Because despite them being the same, the striking differences in the room tell you things are wholeheartedly different too. 

“Okay. Where’s the extra air mattress?” Eren asks. 

Connie turns, eyes wide, as he gives the two of you a sheepish smile. 

“Really funny story. Sooooo….” 

“God. What did you do?” Eren groans. 

“Long story short, I was thinking about waterbeds. If you pop a water bed, it should be like a waterfall right? So if it’s an air mattress, it should be like an inflatable air balloon thing. Like the weird noodle guys at the car store? Right? So, I tried to pop it. And succeeded.” Connie responds, rambling. 

“Was it cool?” you ask. 

“Ugh. Not at all, princess.” Connie responds. 

You smile, perhaps bigger than you should at Connie using your old nickname, as Eren starts yelling at him. 

“You should be the one to sleep on the floor since you’re the one who ruined the mattress.” Eren states. 

“She should sleep on the floor. She got here last!” Connie responds. 

“She just threw up. And she wasn’t going to sleep on the floor regardless.” 

“Is she contagious?” Connie responds. 

“Connie!” 

Eren rolls his eyes as Mikasa stands up, shuffling to your side and lightly tugging your arm. You look at her, taking her shorter hair in, as you give her a smile. 

“Hey. Want to go change? Your old clothes should still be here, don’t know how well they’ll fit.” 

Eren breaks out of his conversation, leaning forward to where the two of you are talking, to interject. 

“What’s mine is yours. Take mine if you need to.” he says, before returning in full flesh to the argument he’s having with Connie. You can tell they’re both joking from the way they’re trying not to laugh as you start to walk away. 

The two of you quietly pad down the length to the two doors, directly across from each other, as you take in the scribbled signs switched. Your old room now reads Jean and Mikasa with Connie’s handwriting scribbled underneath inscribing please fuck quietly on the door. And consequently, Eren’s room now reads Eren and Y/N with Sasha’s handwriting scribbled underneath reading yall are fucked UP for this. 

You turn to Mikasa and give her a weird look. 

“Right. We’ve been here for a week, actually. Table reading season four stuff. Jean and I want to share a room so we moved all of his stuff to your room and your stuff to Eren’s room. We’ll put it back.” Mikasa states, pushing open the door to Eren’s room as she starts rummaging through your old drawers in the closet. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I wouldn’t want to impose on you guys when you’re almost about to be newlyweds?” you ask. 

“Yeah. Yeah, next year. And we just moved it because we thought you weren’t going to come back. And Eren didn’t want to toss your stuff and all.” she responds. She pulls out a shirt, most definitely from when you’re fifteen, as you both snicker at the size and she keeps digging. 

You walk around Eren’s room, your room too now, as you eye all the boxes filled with your things, tangled in with Eren’s clothes lying around on every open surface. You take a seat at his desk as you start inspecting his little bulletin board, the pictures underneath the pins. 

One of him, Lana, and Sukuna - the three of them smoldering at the camera. Eren and Connie smiling, Eren and a little kid with short curly hair, and two pictures of you. The first one is of you and him sleeping on set and the other is the two of you with Falco, both of you crouching down to his height and hugging him from behind.

And hanging around both of the pins are your friendship bracelets, which you take off the hooks to inspect. 

So that’s where it went. In all of the fire of moving around so much, jumping from one place to another, you always thought you lost it. But you must have left it here all along.

You run your hands over the beads, yours and Eren’s names, as Mikasa gives you a head shake, indicating she didn’t find anything. 

“S’okay. I’ll look through Eren’s stuff I guess.” you murmur. 

Mikasa nods as she leans against Eren’s desk, hands crossed over her chest, as the silence hangs in between the two of you. She takes one of the bracelets from your hands, twisting the beads in her fingers, as you do the same with yours. 

You find solace in the fact that Mikasa is still wearing her engagement ring - a constant in the sparring mix of changes you just witnessed in the room. 

Connie sober. Ymir and Historia sharing a mattress. Eren and Connie getting along. Mikasa and Jean even tolerating being in the same room as Eren. In the same room as you. And the jarring absence of Marco. 

“How are you?” Mikasa asks. 

“Okay, Mika. How are you?” 

Mikasa sinks down, sitting flat on the floor as she hikes her knees to her chest. You follow suit, dropping from your chair to sit next to her, lacing your arm through hers as you both blankly stare at the floor ahead of you, picking what topic to broach first. 

I missed you. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to  you in two years. Our friend is dead. Eren is here. 

“The engagement party looked beautiful, Mikasa.” 

She smiles, leaning her head against yours. 

“Thank you, Y/N. It was quite nice actually.” 

“I watched it on Vogue. Cried quite a bit.” you respond. 

She laughs, rolling her eyes at you as she lightly shoves you. 

“Should’ve come then. Cried in real time.” 

You swallow hard, cheeks warm, as you squeeze her hand. You know she’s joking, but the guilt runs too deep. 

“I’m sorry for not coming. I-I really wish I was there. And I know there’s no justification for it but-” 

“We aren’t mad at you. Jean and I.” she clarifies. 

“I’d understand if you were. I’m your best friend. I’ve-I’ve been with you guys since the start and-” 

Mikasa’s hands are soft on your shoulders, tears gathering in her eyes, as she looks at you, eyes pinched in pain.

“You had every right to not come. To be done with this. What they did to you, to Eren- Y/N, god.” 

You swallow hard. 

“It didn’t warrant me not coming to you-” 

“It did. You don’t even know the half of it. You-you and Eren. You just-” 

There’s a knocking at the door and Eren pads in, eyes wide as he sees you and Mikasa on the floor, tears gathered in her eyes and your limbs tangled together. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can come back.” 

“No, no. It’s okay, Eren. Her clothes are too small. I can go grab mine for her if you two want to talk-” her words pointed, the emphasis on the last words hard. 

“No, don’t bother Mikasa.” he responds, disappearing into his closet to find a pair of clothes for you. 

Mikasa turns back to you, giving your cheek a pinch. 

“I’ll make Jean sleep on the floor if Connie doesn’t give up his mattress. It’ll be like old times.” she responds, shuffling out of the room as you stay on your spot on the floor.

You hike your knees to your chest as you twist the beads in your fingers again, Eren’s name that you used to wear on your wrist almost every day foreign in your fingers. 

“Eren. We’re going to be late.” you groan, impatiently tapping your foot on the ground as you wait for him by the door. 

The two of you are already thirty minutes late to Erwin’s going away party, the last car waiting to take the two of you, Marco, and Annie out to the little soiree that Erwin is throwing for himself - in celebration of him being killed off. 

“Sorry, sorry. Looking for my bracelet.” he responds, darting back and forth from different corners of the room. 

“Well, hurry up. Annie’s getting pissed.” 

“I found yours! But where is mine?” 

You look down at your wrist to find the pink beads on your wrist, spelling out your name against your pulse point in your wrist. 

“Oops, sorry. I’m wearing yours.” you respond. 

Eren’s quick to walk over to where you’re standing on the door - giving you enough time to groan at how haphazardly he got ready for the party. His tie is loose against his neck, hair all messy as you reach up to fix it. 

“God, Eren. At least brush your hair.” 

“Quit moving your hands.” 

Eren takes his hand in yours, quickly sliding the bracelet off your wrist and switching it with the one in his hand. 

“Well, get ready properly. Your tie isn’t even on right.” you respond, irritated as you reach forward to tighten the fabric and smooth down his collar. 

“And if I told you I put it on wrong just so you would fix it, what would you think?” 

“That you’re asking for a death sentence from Annie for wasting time.” 

He rolls his eyes, reaching up to lift the hand he just placed the bracelet on. His thumb is straight against your pulse point, blood pulsating under the spot, as he lifts his hand to leave a kiss right there. 

“And that it’s cute that you did that.” 

He gives you a wide grin, locking your hands together as you both rush out the door. 

Eren shuffles out, sitting across from you as he puts the stack of clothes between you and hikes his knees to his chest. He holds his hand out and you place the bracelet in his hand. 

“You left it in the bathroom.” 

You nod as you try to steady your mind - still running a hundred miles per hour and overstimulated from seeing everyone again. From how familiar it all feels, how easy it all is to fall back into this despite how different things are. 

How you and Eren are miles apart, how you haven’t talked to them all in months, how Marco is dead. That Marco’s death is suspending all of you in a weird state of reality, that every angry word spoken and every bit of harshness seems miniscule now.

“Do you want me to leave?” Eren asks. 

“No.” you shrug. 

“Do you want to talk?” 

“No.”

Eren nods, counting each of the beads on the bracelet, as you both sit there in the silence, letting your eyes float around the room as you let your mind wander. 

Marco and Colt playing chess everyday when he visited you in Canada, Marco falling for every stupid joke that Connie played on him, the way you all cried when Marco died in the show, Marco at the awards show. 

“Eren?” 

“Yes, Y/N?” 

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?” 

The question takes Eren off guard. He debates it then and there - telling you the truth full and whole - on the basis that he can’t handle the way you’re looking at him. At the fact that you even asked that, at the implication that you thought he could ever forget. 

“Of course. On set, in the-” 

“No, no. I mean, for real.” 

“At the awards show.” Eren responds, without a beat. 

“Yeah.” 

Eren leans forward, wrapping his hands around your neck and pressing his lips to yours. You can still feel people moving around you, setting up things for the closing part of the ceremony, but the only thing you’re paying attention to is Eren. And his lips. And the way he’s pulling you closer, like he can’t get enough of you. 

When you pull apart, you’re both panting, smiling at each other. 

“Thank god. If I got cock-blocked from kissing you a third time, I was actually going to commit a murder.” 

“You want me so bad.” you say, sarcastically. 

“Obviously.” 

You both smile and turn to the left, to a very smiley Marco staring at you two. And then you cringe, remembering that you and Eren are literally backstage and there’s like seven people who just watched you suck face. Marco walks up, wrapping his arms around both of you and hugging hard. 

“I love you guys.” 

“Marco. Don’t-” Eren starts.

“I’m not going to tell anyone. You need time to figure whatever is going on, without Connie and and Sasha up your ass the entire time. But I’m really, really happy for you.” 

“Really, Marco?” you ask, leaning into Eren’s touch. 

“It’s always been you guys. You guys better not break up or else I’ll come hunt both of you down. And if I’m dead, I’ll come back to life just to haunt you guys.” 

“Do you think he’s haunting us?” 

Eren frowns, the memory refreshing in his head. One he thought of a few days ago, lingering on the fact that Marco’s probably turning in grave right now. Granted, Marco was very vehement about his stance on you two - your interview and what Eren did, making Marco so agonizingly and uncharacteristically angry that it bothers him now. 

For not listening to him. That if he does ever get to cross that bridge with you, at least be your friend again, that Marco won’t ever know. 

“I just don’t understand why you won’t just go out there and tell her. You know where she lives.” Marco states, irritated. 

“Because I just can’t, Marco! You watched the interview!” 

“The entire song was about how she forgave you. How she isn’t holding a grudge against you. And-and the way she was talking about it, some part of her knows that other people had something to do with this, Eren. She knows deep down.” 

“The interview was fucking horrible. This entire thing, this thing that I did, fucked her up so bad that she isn’t even doing this anymore. This was all she wanted, ever since she was a kid, she-she was so determined and she gave it up because I said all those things, because I did what I did.” 

“Eren. It’s more compl-” 

“No, it’s not. And she fucking hates me. You should have seen how upset she was at the awards show…..I-I ruined it for her. I ruined her entire dream, Marco.” 

“God, Eren. Your tunnel vision is insane. You’re not even giving her a fighting chance when she doesn’t even know the truth!” he says. 

“Maybe haunting is too mean of a word. I think he’d be happy to see us together, right now. Even if the circumstances aren’t the best.” he responds. 

You smile, giving him a nod. 

“He always did like playing cupid, didn’t he?” 

“At the engagement party, he walked around telling everyone that Jean and Mikasa were only dating because of him.” 

“That’s a lie.” you state. 

“No one believed him.” Eren responds. 

The two of you fall into silence again, resting your chins on your knees, as more thoughts swim through your head, pain so palpable it’s sitting in your chest. That if Marco were here, he’d be prancing in and giving you two devious smirks, lovingly teasing both of you. Pulling both of you aside, saying that bygones should be bygones if you still love each other. 

You look up at him, watch his eyes flutter open and close, as he fidgets with his hands. 

You still love him. 

“Can we be civil for the weekend? Like…like you’re not Eren and I’m not Y/N, we’re just-” you sutter.

Your question falls short, hanging in the air as you watch the gears in Eren’s head turn. 

“I just mean. So many things happened between us. And I know there’s hurt there, on your part and maybe mine too, but…..I don’t want us to be mad at each other at the funeral. Or after.” 

You swallow hard. 

“I’d hate for one of us to die being mad at each other. Without having talked in years.” you whisper. 

Eren gets it. The guilt that must be wracking you for not talking to Marco, when you were one of the people who was closest to him. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, as he fidgets with your fingers. 

“He knows you loved him, Y/N.”

He watches the tears pour down your eyes, face pink and eyes swollen, as you talk. 

“Did he? Because I ignored his texts. For years. He texted me happy birthday, asked how Falco was doing, wanted to know if I watched Halloweentown on October first like I always do, if I was happy, if I wanted to talk and-” 

He squeezes your hand, pulling out his phone, as he scoots to the space next to you. He tries to still the pounding of his heart as you lace your arm through his, leaning your head against his. 

“He knows, Y/N.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I was with him. I talked to him quite often after….after everything that happened. I promise you, he knows you loved him.” 

You shake your head, guilt sitting in your head. 

“I have something for you.” he murmurs. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s from a few years ago. I think he was really, really drunk.” 

He hands you his phone, open to a voicemail from Marco, as you wipe the tears on your phone and press play. His voice comes through the speaker booming and giggling and hiccuping as he talks. 

“Eren. Eren! Fuck, I love you so much dude. You’re-you’re such a guy. Like I-I just see you and think hmmmm. That’s a guy. Are you with Y/N? Tell her I love her. She’s my best friend. You’re all my best friends. I’m so happy I got to grow up with all of you. Oh, Connie just threw up on the floor, oh Connie- hey, stop! Okay, love you brother, I have to go.” 

The voice cuts off abruptly, as you laugh. 

“Never could hold his drink, could he?” 

“Not everyone can be alcoholics like Jean and Mikasa.” 

You both laugh, chest aching from how familiar, how soft this feels. That you’re both sitting in this room, where you grew up, fell in love, slept next to each other every night. Eren can see the tears welling in your eyes, thinking of his best efforts to stop it, at whatever is plaguing your mind. 

“So. You said you’re not Y/N and I’m not Eren. So who are we?” he asks. 

“I meant that metaphorically, you’re-” 

You watch Eren’s eyes flit around his room, scanning till he stops around his bookshelf, and turns back to glance at you. 

“Your new name is Margaret.” 

“Ew. And I didn’t mean it like that, Eren.” 

“Who is Eren? My name is….” he responds, giving you a smile as he elongagates the syllables waiting for your response. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Bruce. Your name is Bruce.” 

“Bruce Wayne!” 

“No. Not like Bruce Wayne. Think of someone really boring. Irritating, agitating.” 

“Perfect! I’ll just think of you after five shots of tequila.” 

You both laugh as Eren stands up, holding a hand out to pull you up. He sets the stack of clothes in your hand as he makes a move to walk out of the room. Except he hangs on the door for a second, voice soft when he talks. 

“Does Bruce have permission to say something?” 

“Sure.” 

“I know he technically just met Margaret because she was born a minute ago, but he missed her. A lot.” 

You feel your cheeks burn as you give him a nod, murmuring a quiet me too before sinking into the bathroom to slip his clothes on. 

Connie, does in fact, not give up the mattress. Jean and Eren begrudgingly share as you and Mikasa cuddle into the night. 

--

You wake up first, to find Mikasa sprawled over your entire frame. Her entire body is burning hot and you send a silent prayer to the world's strongest soldier, Jean Kirschtein, for putting up with this for so long. After you all but free yourself from her grasp, you spare a quick glance to see Jean must be smothering Eren more than Mikasa was you and silently muse that the two of them truly are made for each other. 

You pad down to the kitchen, yanking the hood of Eren’s hoodie over your head, to find Connie sitting at the table, scribbling away in a journal, a steaming bowl of oatmeal next to him. 

“Good morning, Con.’” 

He looks up, one of his hands going instinctively to cover what he was writing as you take the seat next to him, crossing your legs up on the chair. He immediately relaxes, giving you a bright smile.

“Good morning, princess. You can have some if you want.” 

“No, no. I don’t want to impose.” 

“What’s mine is yours.” he says, mimicking Eren’s voice. 

You snort, reaching for his spoon, as you take a bite of the warm food, soothing the stiffness in your throat. 

“Sleep well?” he asks. 

“Mikasa basically strangled me all night.” 

“Ew. Of course she has the cuddle bug. I swear, Jean and Mikasa were always goo goo ga ga, but they’re even worse now.” 

“They’re getting married, Connie. It’s sweet.” 

He smiles, sliding the string through the pages, as he turns to you giving you a smile. 

“Yeah. It is sweet.” he responds, voice quiet. 

Connie swallows hard, eyes weary as he turns to you. 

“I want to apologize.” Connie says. 

The elephant in the room. He’s the first one to touch it. 

“Oh. That’s okay, I under-” 

“No, no. It’s not okay.” he responds, tone almost harsh. 

You and Armin share a look the second he breaks the frame, glass shattering over the length of Armin’s apartment. 

“Why the fuck would you guys bring me here?” Connie asks, sweat beading his forehead. 

From the way he’s moving, all erratic and nonsensical, it makes you think that it’s out of his system. That if Connie had a chance, this would be when he would sneak off to the bathroom to get his fix. But he’s nowhere near that, instead settled into Armin’s tiny New York apartment, screaming at the two of you. 

“Connie. You asked us too.” you respond. 

“I was fucking high! Why would you guys even entertain a word I said?” Connie states, voice even more agitated now. 

“Connie. You…you need help. We looked at some rehab places while you were asleep and-” 

“Rehab? I’m not going to rehab. Are you trying to ruin my fucking career, Armin?” 

“No, but we want to make sure you’re okay. They’ll be discrete, we’ll make sure the security detail is good so that you can be better and-” 

“I am fucking fine. Do I look like I need help?” 

You and Armin share a weary glance, before looking back at him. 

“Connie. We love you. We-we just want to help you, okay?” you say. 

“Does it ever embarrass you when you do this, Y/N?” Connie says, voice laced with venom. 

“Sorry?” 

“Does you not think it’s embarrassing to beg like this in front of people who don’t fucking care about you the way you do about them? I figured that Eren putting you in your place like that would set you straight but it seems like you didn’t learn your lesson, did you?” 

You swallow hard, eyes and skin burning as Connie waits for your response. 

“You don’t mean that. You-you’re just mad because you can’t be high right now.” you murmur. 

“Am I, Y/N? Or is it true?” 

“It’s not true. This isn’t you, Connie.” 

“God, Y/N. Wake the fuck up. We aren’t fifteen anymore. No ones sitting here holding your hand telling you that you’ll be the best anymore. I get that you need that ego boost to move forward but I sure as hell am not going to be the one to give it to you.” 

“Connie, that’s enough-” 

Connie swallows hard, eyes focused on his fingers as he talks. 

“I know-I know that I said it wasn’t true. But I really did say all of those things because I was high. Or because I wanted to be high and was in withdrawal and-” 

“I know that, Connie. I’ve never held it against you.” 

He frowns, twisting his pen to his fingers. 

“You always give grace even when you don’t know the whole story. Me, Hisu, Eren.” he murmurs. 

“You deserve it…and I partially knew. I mean, addiction is a disease. It hurt at first but that wasn’t your fault. You just needed to be treated and helped and I’m glad you did.” 

He smiles, resting his cheek against his hand. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Don’t mind me if I spend the rest of my life asking for forgiveness. I won’t ever feel like I deserve it but I’ll keep asking anyway.” he murmurs. 

“I’ll always give it to you.” you respond, squeezing his shoulder. 

You silently wonder that if you ever did come back, sans funeral, if things would be like this. If you and Eren could pretend, if Mikasa and Jean could look past it all. Because some parts of it, they feel earnest, truthful. But you can’t tell if you’re all suspended in some disbelief, clouded by your grief and trying to cling onto one of the things Marco loved most. His time on the show, with you all. 

“Honey when I’m above the trees, I SEE IT FOR WHAT IT IS.” Connie sings, screams. 

“Oh my god, Connie.” you deadpan. 

He’s singing happiness. Like the happiness you sang in your interview, when you forgave Eren. 

“THERE’LL BE HAPPINESS AFTER YOU. BUT THERE WAS HAPPINESS BECAUSE OF YOUUUU. BOTH OF THESE THINGS CAN BE TRUE, THERE IS HAPPINESS.” 

You clamp your hand flat against his mouth, trying not to snicker, as he continues to sing underneath your hand. 

“Are you insane? They’re all sleeping.” you whisper. 

“Not anymore we’re not.” Ymir responds, immediately smacking Connie against the head. 

“You’re going to give Eren a nightmare, Connie.” Historia mutters, dragging her feet into the kitchen as Ymir follows. 

“I’m already living it.” Eren grumbles, leaning against the counter as he splits a PopTart with Jean. 

Slowly but surely, every one of them shuffles down to the room, the deja vu of the situation hitting deep as each person follows suit. Sasha ambles down after a few minutes, finishing off the bowl of oatmeal that you and Connie were sharing while Reiner and Bertholdt murmur quietly over the coffee cup. Eren’s in hushed conversation with Jean and Mikasa, fixing himself breakfast, as Hange and Levi wander into the room, immediately thrown off by all of you in there. 

“Jesus.” Levi says, tone exasperated. 

“Good morning, Levi.” Mikasa says, gesturing to the water boiling on the kettle for his tea. He gives her a grateful smile, taking a seat in his corner as Hange talks to the group of you. Connie’s resorted to cracking all of your knuckles since his are all worn out as they go on. 

“Good morning kiddos!” 

“Don’t….do such a cheery voice, Hange.” Levi says, sighing. 

Hange’s smile falters, before dropping all together, and giving a thoughtful nod. Eren shuffles over to your side, taking the seat next to yours as he places a steaming bowl of ramen in front of you. 

“Oh. Thank you, Eren.” 

“Who?” 

You roll your eyes as Eren smiles, reaching forward to flick your cheek. 

“Bruce.” 

“Bruce, indeed.” he responds. 

Eren knows he’s in treacherous waters. That this line you’ve drawn, that you’re not you and he’s not himself, works almost too well for Eren’s purposes. That he can pretend, in earnest, that none of the things he said happened. That you and him are just as you always were, untouched in the bubble you were always in when you lived here. . 

“The funeral is tomorrow, as we all know. The Bodt’s have requested that we get there ten minutes before the service, so be on time tomorrow. Bertholdt, Sasha, I’m looking at both of you. ” 

You all nod, humming in response, as you start digging into the bowl, switching off with Connie and Sasha who are both trying to monopolize the only real food in a five feet radius. 

“That being said…” Hange says, swallowing hard. 

They’re pacing back and forth almost, teetering on their ankles, when they talk. And when they finish explaining - autopsy report in hand and the gut punch sticking in your chest - you all sit there, blankly staring. 

And wander in silence for the rest of the day. 

It was one thing that Marco died. And an entirely different one that he was killed. 

--

“Someone go get Eren, we only have thirty minutes.” Levi says, everyone lingering in the kitchen and the living room, in a sea of black. 

Almost everyone is here now - Erwin, Armin, even Eren’s parents - all lingering around as you wait to head to the funeral. You give a curt nod to Levi and march out to the pavement, pebbles crunching under your feet as you make your way to set. 

Eren’s been in there since last night, never retreating to the room to change into his pajamas before he settled down on the couch downstairs. Despite your protests, he refuses to sleep in the same room as you. Or let you sleep anywhere else besides Jean’s old bed in his room. 

You let the pebbles crunch under your feet, ignoring the sting as you pass the tandem bike, and slip onto the set. You can see new costumes designs printed against the walls, storyboards with Levi and Hange’s handwriting on them as you make your way to the back towards the piano.

When you see him, that rage, simmering warm in your stomach over the past twenty-four hours, the deep-seated pain of Marco dying alone, crying out for help, comes to a head when you see Eren. Because he’s sitting at the bench, with his book propped up against the stand, and a bottle of pills in his hands. 

You march up to where he’s standing, crossing your hands across your chest as you all but glare at him. 

“Oh. Hey, you look-” 

“Are you serious?” 

You watch his face scrunch up in confusion, that stupid look on his face aggravating you even more. His tie is unkempt, his hair is messy - he’s always so haphazard with these things. 

“You’re doing pills in here before Marco’s funeral. Are you fucking serious?” 

He looks down, at the bottle in his hand and stands up, and swallows hard when he looks at you. 

“Wait-” 

“No. No, for once, you’re going to listen to me. You-you’re sick. Marco’s dead. You can’t even give it to him to be fully there while we say goodbye? This means that much to you?” you spit, watching him shut his eyes. 

“Y/N.” 

“How could you do this? To him? To me?” 

He reaches forward, hands on your shoulders as he squeezes, and your eyes burn like acid. And every feeling, building up over the past few days, comes tumbling out. 

“Why did he have to leave us, Eren? We didn’t get enough time with him. He was only twenty-four, he didn't even get to grow old. He was supposed to die, years from now, so happy, so-so surrounded by people he loved.”

Eren forgoes the rational thought. He reaches forward fully, snaking his arms around you as he cradles your head into his frame, trying his best to stifle your cries into his shoulder. 

“And you. He would hate that you were doing this. I hate that you’re doing this. You-you don’t have to. There are other things that can make you happy or-or fix whatever it is that’s wrong.” 

“Y/N.” 

“What, Eren?” 

He pulls back, reaching for the pill bottle, and placing it in the palm of your hand. You read the label, immediately embarrassed and ashamed of your reaction. 

Eren Jaeger *Lexapro 5 mg  Take one tablet by mouth with the morning meal.

“Oh my god, Eren. I’m so sorry, I-” 

You pull back, sitting down on the bench, as you dig your fingers into your temples, trying to stop that pulsating feeling under your skin. The rage, the feeling, coursing through you so hard that you can’t even pick what you’re mad at. 

You’re breathing panic in and out, chest heaving, as Eren takes a seat next to you, leaning his elbows on his knees. And the feeling, it lands on feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed. Because Eren’s not doing drugs, he’s taking anti-anxiety pills. 

“Eren. I’m so sorry. That was so horrible of me, I thought it was-” 

“You thought it was like Connie.” he finishes

“Yeah. And I’m sorry for assuming, I just-” 

“I’m not mad at you. You were just trying to take care of me. I appreciate it.” 

You groan, embarrassment still coursing through you, as you lean your forehead straight against the piano, the smell of the ink on Eren’s book permeating your nose.  

“Do you remember that birthday party of mine I told you about? When I was ten, at my old house in New York? It was when we were in Australia.” 

You nod. 

“I remember feeling it. A paralyzing block in my chest, like I couldn’t move. And when I was able to move, it was only because it all came rushing to me, so panicked, so fast that I-I didn’t even register what happened.” 

He was barely even ten. You lift your hands to his shoulders, squeezing hard, as he continues. 

You’re here and you’ve got him. 

“I didn’t tell anyone. I thought something was wrong with me. I thought that people feel this way, that it’s normal, but I just felt too much of it. That I just can’t handle things the way normal people do.” 

You frown, reaching up to cup the side of his face. Your fingers brush over his dimples, soft under your fingers, as you talk. 

“Eren. There is nothing wrong with you. That’s just an anxiety attack.” you whisper. 

You’re not sure what it is about what you said but when you look up, there are soft tears flowing down Eren’s cheek, the voice coming out of his mouth so garbled you can barely understand what he’s saying. 

“Hey, Eren.” you whisper, 

“No. No, no. Stop.” 

Eren stands up, retreating to the other side of the piano, where he’s leaning over, his entire frame heaving up and down as you walk to his side. 

“Why are you-” 

“I don’t want you to help me. You shouldn’t be helping me.” he says, his voice shuddering. 

“Why not?” you ask, frowning. 

“I’ve been horrible to you. I don’t deserve your help. You-you should be cussing me out, so mad that you can’t stand me, that you want me to suffer and you’re not. And it’s agonizing for me that you aren’t.” 

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around him from the back, as you feel him sigh. You lean your cheek flat against his shoulder, squeezing as hard as you can as Eren continues to cry, fists clenched so tight on the piano that white. 

“You’re not you and I’m not me. We agreed on that.” you murmur. 

“Y/N. We can’t-” 

“Who?” 

He snickers, amidst his tears, as he turns around, and you slot your arms under his. You can feel his heart thumping under your ear, loud and fast, as you place your hand over the spot. The two of you stay that way for some time, Eren's tears falling onto you, as you try your best to remedy whatever it is that's burning inside of him.

“Just calm down and breathe. Falco says it always helps to talk about something else, when he feels like this.” 

He tenses at the mention of Falco, which you realize was a mistake. 

“Why were you in here?” you ask. 

“The Bodt’s asked me to write a song for the service.” 

The perfect distraction.

“Can you sing it for me?” you ask. 

He looks down, green eyes - full and round - as he nods, shuffling towards the piano bench as you take the seat next to him. You can see that the lyrics are scribbled on the book resting against the stand, the paper stiff from blotches of Eren’s tears. He starts playing the piano, his voice echoing on the walls of the set. 

And if I didn't know better I'd think you were talking to me now If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around What died didn't stay dead What died didn't stay dead You're alive, you're alive in my head What died didn't stay dead What died didn't stay dead You're alive, so alive

You rest your hands against the keys next to his, slowly following his pace, as he continues to sing, the hum of his voice filling the air. You can’t help but think it. That he’s beautiful. That this is your Eren, miles away from whoever he was when you saw him last. 

I should've asked you questions I should've asked you how to be Asked you to write it down for me Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

You can feel the tears flowing down your cheeks now, straight onto the piano keys and your hands, as you cry. 

And if I didn't know better I'd think you were singing to me now If I didn't know better I'd think you were still around I know better But I still feel you all around I know better But you're still around

When you and Eren get to the service, you walk hand in hand to the piano. And play the song together, for Marco and Marco only. 

--

You knock on the door, padding into the room to find Levi, hunched over his computer and leaning his hand on his cheek. You take the seat next to him, crossing your legs against the chair, as he looks over at you, expressionless. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” you say. 

Four days after the funeral and all of them have cleared out. Forced to go back to wherever they were before, to push down the beating pain and move forward. The grief, perhaps it did suspend reality for the rest of you. Leave you to pretend that nothing that happened was real, that you were still teenagers running around on this set together. 

That wasn’t how it was for Levi. Because in almost a week of being there, he had yet to talk to you with a straight face. 

“What are you working on, Levi?” you ask, cracking your knuckles. 

He turns the laptop towards you, one of the old hard drives from the earlier seasons pulled up on his computer. He plays the video, one of Jean sitting in a chair behind the green backdrop. 

“Okay, Jean. Tell me your goal for the end of the show.” Levi asks. 

The video, Jean must be barely sixteen, wearing one of the old costumes from season one. You remember now, that Hange was insistent on documenting everything - that you all were going to grow up so fast that they should keep videos. Obviously, Hange is too disorganized to do it themselves, so Levi bit the bullet and did it for them. 

“I don’t know. That’s so far away, Levi.” he groans, scrunching up his forehead. 

“Just answer, Jean. Where do you see yourself at the end of the show, when you’re in your twenties?” 

“With Mikasa.” he responds. 

You both smile as Levi switches to the next videos, the two of you watching all of them in silence. 

“I want to be myself. That’s all I want to be, not embarrassed or ashamed, I-I just want to be me.” Historia says, smiling into the camera. 

“I don’t know. That’s a weird question, Levi.” Mikasa grumbles, glaring at him. 

“You’re horrible, Mikasa. Jean said he wants to be with you.” Levi responds. 

“Well, that’s a given. Of course, I’m going to be with Jean.” she responds, giving one last eye roll to the camera. 

“Doing something important. That means something to people.” Connie responds. 

You swallow hard, as you see Eren, fifteen and so smiley, as he crawlsl onto the little stool.

“My turn?” Eren asks, giving Levi a bright smile. 

“Yes, kid. Your turn. Why else would you be sitting here?” 

“Okay. This is a secret so don’t tell anyone.” he says. 

“I’m not broadcasting to a news channel, Eren. Just hurry up, I still have to get through half of you.” 

Eren nods, reaching up to fix his hair, before he talks - his voice filled with that confident resolve, that one he always sported when he was fifteen.

“I want to get the Best Actor in a Lead role award. And on the same night, I want Y/N to become a triple threat. And then I want us to tell her that I told her so. Me and her, at the top.” he says, giving the camera a bright smile, before jumping off. 

The next one is of you, what you said being entirely lost to you in your memories. 

“What do I want to do when I'm in my twenties? Hm.” you echo. 

“Today would be nice.” Levi deadpans. 

“Well, I don’t know! That’s so broad. I want to be doing stuff like this. Acting, making music, To have people enjoy the work I make, and making it with my friends, like Eren and Mikasa and Armin. I want to be here, more than anything. It feels so right to me, that I get to do this. It’s special, it’s a privilege and I’m really thankful I get to do it.” 

“Note to anyone watching. This is one of our only kids with manners.” Levi says, setting the camera down to give you a hug. 

You bite down on your cheek, looking over at Levi, as he plays the last one. Of Marco. 

“Okay, Marco. What do you want to do when you’re in your twenties?” 

“Well. I know what I’m going to be doing.” Marco says, crossing his arms against his chest. 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” 

“See. Spoiler alert, but Hange and Levi just killed me off this show. But we made a deal. That I get to be in each season, even if its a super minor role like a flashback or whatever. So in my twenties, I’ll be here. Surrounded by all my childhood best friends, making this show that’s always meant so much to us.” 

You swallow hard as Levi wraps his arms around you, the two of you watching Marco’s smiley face disappear from the screen. 

“So I’ll see you in four months? For season four?” 

“Damn right you will.” you respond. 

And for the first time in a week, Levi breaks a smile. 

“Good.”

--

next part linked here

an, again: SEASON FOUR ERA (this shit abt to be so awkward when they're not all sad/grieving )

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

[foster-the-world]

Good timing

Yesterday the girls were bickering and I thought about how they could use some alone time with us. Then one of Rebel's classmates asked if she could join them on a trip to the Science Museum. Perfect. Bee was so excited to have her Dad to herself. At 7am she had already told myself, baby boy and Bee we'd all need to leave soon. She chose to pick out some recipes to cook herself. She's been really eager to cook but its difficult to do without some supervision. She was so happy. We are working on giving her some things she can do alone. Right now she can make pancakes (with some help on the grill but I think soon she'll be 100% alone soon) and mac n cheese. Which feels like a good start for a seven year old. I think we can start doing the meal kits together. She's pretty good reading/following a recipe.

I took baby boy to the Children's museum to meet one of his sweet little friends. Her mom is really nice and loves baby boy. He was up an hour and a half earlier then normal and it showed. We went to the same place last week and he was great. Not so much today. It was much more crowded. He pounds into everything when he's unregulated. He had an accident which is out of the norm for him nowadays. The other Mom wasn't too bothered. Honestly, I don't really like hanging out with other people with him around. He requires too much attention so I end up feeling bad instead of having fun. I would like to hang out with the Mom alone. She's really nice.

Bee had a really great time. The Mom said she was super well behaved.

Ubereats gave us 50% off that we need to use by the 16th - so ordering something we probably don't need right now.

Our first foster daughter's mom texted yesterday to say she only has six dollars and nothing to feed the three kids. She's in a shelter so in theory they do feed them but I don't know how it works. She asked for money or to send something. I did an instant cart. She doesn't have a fridge or oven. Only a shared microwave. She offered to cash app me the $6 but of course I didn't take that. The receptionist at the homeless shelter got rude with the instant cart person- who called in a complaint about her. Which made the receptionist scream at the foster daughters mom. She forgot to ask for dip so said she could get it herself. The only allowed $10 minimum online order. So instead she went to Walgreens to pick some dip up. I acknowledge its not my business to judge anyones spending habits and also can't help but think spending your last six dollars is not a good idea. Admittedly I don't know how you could spend six dollars in a helpful way but its not chip dip. She hopes her food stamps will come on Tuesday. I sent enough for a a few days - but its limited what she can actually make. I sent sandwich deli meat but that can't last without a fridge. Some can soups, spaghettio's, etc. Snacks. She said she had been getting Mcdonalds, chickfila, etc. No idea where she would get money for that. Her youngest recently turned one. I hope he's still getting formula. I can't imagine sitting in a hotel room with three young kids all day. They are in Times Square - which is no place for children to live. They can walk to a playground but its not particularly close. I offered for her to come here for a hot shower and laundry. I'll try to go with them to the Children's museum as we have free admission. Anyway, its hard to not want to help and also I don't want to be overly involved. Our former foster daughter is living with her Grandmother.

[peachirambles]

kicks down the door rose give me derek with a MC who loves pampering him its what he deserves

YESSSS A DEREK ASK! You know I love my pookie dearly <3 he's my darling and he doesn't get nearly enough love so I hope I do him justice here!

Derek is a man that for all intent and purposes, loves to spoil his partners rotten. It's extremely obvious that if given the chance, he will go out of his way for the MC. However, his main love language is acts of service afterall so naturally, pampering does fall into that catergory

Does that mean he'll take being pampered easily? Hell no, do you know Derek?! He's got a lot of built up energy and not only that, he spent almost all his life servicing others, so for him to be the one being pampered, he gets very flustered but he's not going to say no either.

I can imagine it's doing another "Derek Day" sort of deal where Derek gets to pick the places he wants to go and things he wants to do and the MC follows along, but the difference is this time is that the MC is willing to pay for the entire day. Of course, if Derek is really gungho on paying at least half, then the MC won't stop him either. What matters is making sure Derek is as happy and relaxed as possible

Now, Derek isn't like Cove or Baxter in the way that he wants gifts or goes out somewhere. I think a good "Derek Day" is buying some food on DoorDash or UberEats, renting some movies and buying a new videogame, and just cuddling up on the couch. Derek is just a guy who really just wants to relax and vibe out with the love of his life so he's not going to run up your credit card to do that

He also has a lot of energy, so if you do take him out, it's gotta be something that can really make him miss his bed. Or, you can take him out for a couple's spa day where the whole point is to just relax and get pampered together. I think Derek really would love getting a back massage

But also, I can see him just generally having a spa day at home with a bunch of silly face masks and such. Also, spa days at home means you can personally give him all the massages he wants, and he gets to kiss you whenever he wants, so really, it's a win-win.

So yeah, essentially, I don't see him being uncomfortable with a pampering mc as much as I do, seeing him get red-faced more often from how excessive the MC is. And boy is Derek cute when he's flustered

[brandingtim]

Taste the Victory: How Peloton Can Use Sensory Branding to Fuel Member Engagement

Have you ever been to an Equinox? How does it make you feel? What do you remember about your experience—do you remember the workout you had or the eucalyptus-scented towels and Kiehl's products in the changing rooms?

The best products I can think of (i.e., Equinox, Apple, Coke, old-growth wines, etc.) are just as much about the sensory experience as they are about the product itself. If I consider great, low-friction products to be table stakes to become a successful company these days, then creating sensory experiences along with those products is how to differentiate the good from the great companies.

Now if you know me then you know that I have had my fair share of sports injuries over the years and that has led me down the path of low-impact, “retiree-style” workouts to stay active. One of my favorite workouts these days is riding on a Peloton. Below I have brainstormed three ideas that Peloton could take to enhance its brand and drive stronger membership growth, engagement, and/or retention.

Post-ride snacks: one of my favorite things about Peloton is the fact that I know that I will be completely gassed at the end of my workout and I know exactly how long my ride will take. If I only have 45min to work out, I know that I can do a 5min warmup ride, 30min HIIT workout, 5min cooldown ride, and be off the bike in exactly 45min. However, I’m always starving when I finish my rides and I don’t always have enough time to make a healthy meal before I need to shower and get on with my day.

What if Peloton partnered with healthy merchants and food delivery apps such as UberEats or Doordash to have healthy snacks or meals delivered right to your door at the end of your workouts. The company could start with a limited number of options to (e.g., smoothies & acai bowls), but this could lay the groundwork for cognitive associations between the workout class and that delicious smoothie that is delivered to your door at the end of the workout. Peloton could even gamify the process by allowing members to earn credits towards their favorite snacks based on rides completed.

2. Workout fan/filter: every time I ride a Peloton I look like I just got out of the swimming pool. One of the challenging things about indoor cycling is that it never gives you the sensory feel of riding outside with the wind in your hair.

Peloton has (essentially) mastered the audio/video elements of workout classes, but the classes are still only three-dimensional. I believe there’s an opportunity to add a fourth dimension to the bikes by adding a Dyson-style fan and air purifier to the bike. This fourth dimension will help cool down riders, give them the sensory experience of riding outdoors, and could even be enhanced with an optional Peloton signature scent. This could be something similar to the eucalyptus-scented towels in Equinox gyms. This scent could be released from the fan after the rides and be a calming fragrance that riders could learn to associate with Peloton.

3. AR Experience: I don’t believe we are there yet, but once AR headsets gain traction Peloton could tap into the immersive experience. Imagine wearing Meta/RayBan glasses and being able to see your friend next to you riding in a Peloton class. I think VR headsets are likely too immersive to wear during a workout class (would likely result in people falling off their bikes or feeling nauseous but AR seems like a much more feasible entry point.

Overall, similar to how sensory-inducing wine labels impacted not just taste but also consumption, a more sensory riding experience on Peloton bikes could create a “halo-effect” to revive the sputtering performance of the company post-pandemic.

[perennialwitness]

The Infinite Advert

It is a Wednesday night, the time of year is irrelevant because tonight I am doing what I do most nights. I'm on the couch or in my bed, my left hand of its own volition strokes at my facial hair. It plucks any that feels out of place. How it determines which to preen and which to spare is beyond me. The operation is mechanical, exacting and precise. While the left works the right entertains. It holds my cell phone, my fingers, even when empty, rest in the shape of it. Four fingers wrapped around the back while the thumb floats, ready to scroll. My right hand shows me the world. Ads for SUVS, photos of old friends starting families, dogs, cats, houseplants. I scroll and scroll through waves of injustice and mental health advice, absorbing information, commenting silently on what people choose to share. Every so often I get the desire to submit pieces of my own life if only in an effort to prove that I exist outside of this cycle. More often than not I come to my senses deleting the photo or witty tweet I'd spent the last half hour concocting. I stalk my exes which unearths memories buried for the sake of my ego. Masochism offers novelty, though there are only so many scabs to pick. To clear my head I turn my attention toward hookups and one night stands in search of photos that might fill in the gaps and remind me of what their bodies felt like. With a buzz my phone informs me that UberEats is offering $20 off on Popeye's Fried Chicken— for a moment my scrolling stops as the serotonin of receiving a notification slips through my fingers. I mourn the loss briefly and then before regular brain function can resume I continue my journey. With deft flicks I alternate apps; Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, Instagram, Discord, Twitter, Tiktok… when I've opened Facebook it occurs to me that I've become desperate. Somewhere between missed birthdays, Bible verses and conspiracy theories I begin to think that maybe I'm lonely and that a partner might save me from the void or at the very least distract me for a bit. I open Tinder, Bumble, Hinge and the swiping begins again. I examine the profiles of women in my area and judge them based upon how they choose to present themselves. Bad angles, blurry photos, hiding amongst crowds all rejectable offenses. Buzz words like BLM and Adventure cause me to sneer. The matches I am able to make I rarely engage with, though I peruse their profiles and imagine how our interactions might play out if I weren't just using them for validation. I feel guilty about none of this as I assume they are doing the same as I am across town. Eventually I tire of possibility and go in search of porn. I scroll through page after page of thumbnails hunting for the right video. The options are endless and so rather than masturbate as I intended I create reasons not to; bad quality, unappetizing position choices, too rough, too soft, over produced, racist, constant talking, forced moaning, and on and on until I'm no longer aroused. This is when the guilt comes and before I know it my left hand has a new job. It doesn't take long, a minute or so, the orgasm is barely noticeable, but the new wave of guilt that follows is heavy. It is enough to shake me from my daze and I am suddenly aware of the time, hours have passed, lost to the algorithm, my precious minutes converted into data to be sold. My phone buzzes in my hand and I waste no time checking to see who might be reaching out to me. The notification reads: Your average screen time has increased by two hours this week and I open up Twitter to begin the cycle again.

[apiscrapy]

Top 7 Free Website Crawlers To Watch In 2022

It’s common to get amazed to see food delivery apps like Zomato or UberEats suggesting what you want to eat on a specific day, keep a check on your food cravings and know your food choices and cheat-day plans.With rising expectations of end customers and increased market competition, companies are bringing unique goods and customer-oriented services so that they can set themselves apart in the business landscape.

Are you a little hasty? Perhaps. It will be fascinating to watch how it works.

I think most of you have already guessed it: Data Analytics. From Nintendo to Netflix, all the giants in the world are using data analytics to build a better end-user experience.From marketing efforts to life-saving medicines, from big brand names to obscure research firms, the only limit to data analytics is your imagination. Data analytics is clearly not simply the newest hot fad; it is vital to modern enterprises. Data analytics is a discipline that is here to stay.

Your company might not be as big as Zomato or Netflix, but you have expectations to grow like them and capture the attention of the mass audience. With this expectation and anticipation of expanding online, you definitely need access to superior quality data relevant to your business requirements.

 How To Gain Access To Data?

The technique of indexing data on online sites using a tool or automated script is known as web crawling. Businesses deploy a free site crawler to their data scraping operations to extract data insights. It automates the site crawling and data scraping process for business.

 A site crawler searches the WWW (World Wide Web). Its main function is to index web pages on the Internet. Web crawlers, spiders, spider bots, and crawlers are all names for automated scripts or tools that traverse the internet. It is capable of detecting broken links, duplicate content, and missing page titles, as well as identifying serious SEO concerns. Scraping web data would help your company in a variety of ways.

The best free website crawler can crawl data from any website URL. These apps are getting popular day by day, helping users improve the structure of their website so that search engines can understand it and rank it higher. A higher ranking is directly proportional to business success.

Top 7 Free Website Crawlers To Watch In 2022

ApiScrapy is a trusted company offering scalable free site crawler and web scraping software that converts any web data into a data API to be used immediately.

It claims to provide the best free website crawler that can extract data from websites, portals, and social media platforms, process it, automate workflows, and integrate ready-to-use data into databases, as well as provide data in any format.

After inputting the target URL, it can assist in detecting data on the website that you want to scrape.

Non-coders can use the data scraper on Windows/Mac devices.

Tables, texts, figures, pictures, and URLs can be scraped for mass download.

ApiScrapy makes data scraping and crawling effortless with its friendly and feature-rich data crawler.

Spinn3r is a unique Site crawler that allows the user to speedily extract content from blogs, news, and social media sites.

It includes a super-fast API that handles approx 95% of the indexing task.

This free site crawler has advanced spam prevention filters for detecting spam and incorrect language usage and boosting data security and accuracy.

The best free website crawler is constantly scouring the web for updates from many sources in order to provide the user with real-time data.

With a user-friendly GUI, it allows the user to parse websites and manage data proficiently.

Spinn3r is available for free download and enables code-free data extraction

Apache Nutch is a free site crawler popular for being open-source. It employs NTLM protocol for authentication.

It is an adaptable data crawler that allows the users to collect data in a scalable manner.

The mapping is accomplished using XPath and Namespaces.

It has a distributed file system (via Hadoop).

Many data analysts and scientists, application developers, researchers, SEO specialists, and web text mining experts use this best free website crawler for its rich features, easy-to-use GUI, and smooth functionality.

VisualScraper is a fantastic, totally free site crawler that supports non-code data extraction from web sources.

It comes with a straightforward point-and-click user interface making web crawling extremely easy.

VisualScraper also offers web scraping services such as data dissemination and software extractor construction in addition to SaaS.

Using this site crawler, users can schedule their data scraping projects.

It delivers 100% accurate data even if the user scrapes news sites, web portals, and social media posts.

Real-time data is saved in CSV, XML, JSON, or SQL format.

Scrapy is an online scraping framework for building Python-powered free site crawlers.

Users only need to write the rules for data extraction and the tool will handle the rest.

Because it is developed in this manner, it is simple to add new features without altering the core.

It is the best free website crawler that runs on Linux, Windows, MacOS X, and BSD platforms.

Its library gives programmers a ready-to-use structure for configuring a web crawler and retrieving large amounts of data from the web.

Using this tool, build an advanced web crawler online for free and make data extraction affordable.

Cyotek Webcopy is a free site crawler that allows you to quickly scan a website and download data to your local device automatically.

You can extract data by choosing a part of a website.

No matter how complex a website is to crawl, this best free website crawler extracts photos, videos, text, files, and so on without extra effort.

By crawling sites, it delivers data in a machine-readable format.

Use this web crawler online for free and collect content to your local device automatically.

For anyone who wants to gain useful insights using data, Common Crawl is the right tool.

This free site crawler extracts real-time data without letting the user face any kind of inconvenience or delay.

It’s a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization that relies on donations to keep its operations running properly.

The Common Crawl corpus can be utilized for teaching, research, and analysis.

This best free website crawler can be used by teachers to effectively teach data analysis.

It’s common to get amazed to see food delivery apps like Zomato or UberEats suggesting what you want to eat on a specific day, keep a check on your food cravings and know your food choices and cheat-day plans.

With rising expectations of end customers and increased market competition, companies are bringing unique goods and customer-oriented services so that they can set themselves apart in the business landscape.

Are you a little hasty? Perhaps. It will be fascinating to watch how it works.

I think most of you have already guessed it: Data Analytics. From Nintendo to Netflix, all the giants in the world are using data analytics to build a better end-user experience.

From marketing efforts to life-saving medicines, from big brand names to obscure research firms, the only limit to data analytics is your imagination. Data analytics is clearly not simply the newest hot fad; it is vital to modern enterprises. Data analytics is a discipline that is here to stay.

Your company might not be as big as Zomato or Netflix, but you have expectations to grow like them and capture the attention of the mass audience. With this expectation and anticipation of expanding online, you definitely need access to superior quality data relevant to your business requirements.

 5 Companies To Look Out For In 2022 For Data Scraping Services

Don’t want to use a free site crawler? You should rather choose a trusted company for data scraping services. Outsourcing data scraping services reduces unwanted expenses and stress from your head. Here are the top 5 companies that you can choose for affordable, quality, and on-time data scraping services.

ApiScrapy is a trusted company that offers free site crawlers as well as professional data scraping solutions to customers. It provides access to clean, valuable data that can be used for driving a business forward. Incorporating cutting-edge technology, ApiScrapy offers quality data within a stipulated time and budget. Their expertise in large-scale distributed web crawling, combined with best-in-class technology, makes them the most reliable, and cost-effective data extraction solution provider in the global market.

Get fully-managed enterprise-grade web scraping services within your budget from ScrapeHero. Converting the websites into structured data, ScrapeHero builds a robust database for businesses. From data scraping to structuring to cleaning, ScrapeHero does everything to reduce all the hassles associated with the web crawling process. They make major efforts in automation, scalability, and process efficiency, allowing them to give outstanding service to their consumers at no additional expense.

Within many years of experience, Datamam has become a trusted name for world-class data scraping services. The service provider has a professional team and access to cutting-edge technology to deliver data scraping solutions as per the specific needs of customers. First, the experts understand the requirements of the customers precisely and then begin working on the development of specific custom data scrapers.

BotScraper delivers professional scraping services using innovative technology and an outstanding approach. They have experts who make the use of advanced tools to dive deep into the internet to locate every piece of data and transform it into valuable information so that the customer can make smart decisions. In comparison to other online scraping services, BotScraper’s web scraping services are distinctive, reliable, inexpensive, and rapid. For risk-free, rapid, affordable, and accurate data extraction and web scraping services tailored to your specific business requirements, choose BotScraper.

CrawlNow offers data-driven enterprises of all sizes cloud-based, bespoke web scraping solutions. Using their expertise with large-scale distributed web crawling and best-in-class technology they offer the most reliable, scalable, and cost-effective data extraction solutions. As a trusted data scraping partner, CrawlNow handles everything from data extraction to setting up and managing web crawlers, as well as ensuring data quality and on-time delivery.

Conclusion:

From healthcare to entertainment, the sciences to financial services, data is and will be used. So, either make the use of the right technology for quality data extraction or give the responsibility of data collection to an expert service provider. From the names of the best free website crawler to the trusted data scraping solution providers, we have mentioned all the details to help you make the right decisions for your business.

 Boosting your online presence or gaining market insights is not a challenge anymore. A cutting-edge, free site crawler can help you become more understanding of your business and its market base. Delivering high-quality, well-structured data, a web crawler makes your business decisions more precise. Integrate it with your business system and get continuous delivery of large-scale data without having any big workforce.

 Web crawlers are used by SEO professionals, researchers, analysts and, businesses to copy data from different websites. Users can also use it to automate tasks like link checking and HTML code validation. Crawlers can be used to gather certain sorts of information from Web pages, such as e-mail addresses.

By choosing data scraping services, from data scraper implementation to data cleaning and everything in between, you will reduce all the hassles associated with data collection and management. ApiScrapy is the ideal choice for businesses that demand quick access to high-quality data for research and analysis within their budget and stipulated time.

 For more details visit:https://apiscrapy.com/top-7-free-website-crawlers-to-watch-in-2022/

[lilysdaydreams]

The Artist and The Musician

→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don’t think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Fluff.

→ Words: 5.6k

→ Request:  Hey! It’s me again lmao I was curious maybe like sykunno or raes little sister (like 2 or 3 years younger) meets the group and her and corpse just click. How would either of them react to them hearing the news that their little sis is dating corpse and like they’ve moved in together and everything idk I thought it’d be cute💛

→ Warnings: Swearing.

→ Authors Note: Its been a hard couple of weeks and im really sorry that this took so long to be done but depression rlly hit me and I could barely move myself. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please comment some words of encouragement or feedback 💛

→  if you have some spare change , consider buying me a coffee.

You sighed as you finally dropped the last box in your new room, stretching to get rid of the pains in your back. Grabbing your phone, you moved over to Sykkunos room, knocking before sticking your head in.

"You want subway?" you asked when he looked up from the computer. He nodded with a quick smile, and as you closed the door behind you, you could hear him talking to the stream, letting them know that it was just his sister. Quickly ordering on Ubereats, you slumped on the sofa, closing your eyes and resting for a bit.

You had decided to move in with Sykkuno a month ago, the same week you'd decided to drop out of college. It wasn't something your parents were happy with, but after seeing how big your art and business had gotten, they had let you drop out. You'd dropped out and moved to LA, moving into an apartment with Sykkuno since he had to leave the OTV house. Sykkuno had moved in a week earlier which was why his room and computer was all set up. You'd only moved in today, spending a few weeks at home with your parents before leaving for LA. Stretching, you grabbed your phone, checking how long it would be until the food came, and then clicking on Instagram. Your most recent post was of this morning, a photo of you sitting on top of half the boxes in your room, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Sykkuno had taken it for you, the whole process taking 10 minutes cuz you made him take it at 45 different angles. Scrolling through the comments, you liked a few, replying to the ones by your best friends.

@selinaissss: "HOW DARE YOU LOOK THIS PERFECT AT 8 IN THE MORNING????"

→ @junefarie: i look like a racoon dont u dare

@onlyalyssa: "we need a house tour"

→ @junefarie: bitch I dont even have a bed yet

You grabbed the subway order when the bell rang, saying a quick thank you to the delivery man. You left yours on the table, and went to Sykkunos room, yelling "Sykkuno catch!" before throwing it at him, giggling as he leapt forward from his chair to catch it. Closing the door softly behind you, you jumped onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, grabbing your sketchbook and pencils from your backpack and setting them on your lap. It was time to wind down a bit.

~

It was a week later and you had unpacked fully, now focusing more on creating new pieces of art for a shop update. You were also working on some designs specifically for shirts and hoodies. Sykkuno found you in front of your computer, blanket wrapped around you and glasses perched on your nose as you emailed the manufacturer you were working with for the hoodies.

"Un, y/n?" he said hesitantly knocking on the door. You spun around in your chair, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's up?"

He walked in, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and you got your water from the table, taking a sip as you wait for him to talk.

"I um- You know how I- I play Among Us right?" he asked, scratching his neck.

You hummed in response, urging him on with a nod. Sykkuno was almost never this nervous around you. Most of the time, you guys talked normally, joking and teasing each other. For him to be stuttering around you, he must have been extremely nervous.

"Well, you know Rae right? She um, she asked me to make a lobby," he said, standing up and pacing now. You furrowed your brows, confused as to where this was going.

He was explaining what a lobby was (which what the fuck, you watched his streams, of course you knew what a lobby was, why was he explaining that) when you cut him off, getting up and grabbing his shoulders to stop him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, holding his shoulders with both your hands.

He sighed and slumped into you, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.

"Rae asked me to make a lobby and it's the first time I've ever made one and I'm really nervous about it. I've already invited people, but um I was wondering if you wanted to join as well? I- It would help me to have you there." he muttered, the words muffled as he spoke into your shoulder.

"Me?" you asked, a little shocked because you had never played among us before.

He nodded against your shoulder.

"Um sure!" you said, wrapping your arms around his middle, "It'll be fun!"

"And hey," you added on when he didn't say anything after that, "I can meet all your friends as well!"

He finally lifted his head a little, smiling as he muttered out a quick "Thanks y/n."

"However," you added, jumping back onto your seat and wiggling your eyebrows at him. "You have to buy me pizza for tonight's dinner."

He chuckled, grabbing his phone and already mutterng the order to himself as he opened up the ubereats app and walked out of the room.

You turned back to the laptop humming a tune under your breath. From interactions like this, most people would probably assume that you were older but the truth was that Sykkuno was 5 years older than you. Your roles were reversed and you were probably more protective over him than anyone else. Once in high school a girl had called him cute and asked him for his number only to write it on the bathroom walls. After the first three prank calls, you'd taken the phone from him yelling at anyone who called that if they called again, that you'd personally track them down and shove a dildo up their ass.

Both of you had always been close, but with the amount of bullying and teasing he got in high school, you'd got even closer, eventually becoming his best friend in a way. Seeing Sykkuno grow as a person, get new friends who were genuinely nice and kind made you the happiest person alive. When Sykkuno had first started streaming you'd been worried, scared that people online would say something mean. When he had first started streaming with other streamers and then met Lily and all his other friends, you had been anxious, worrying that they might only be putting up a friendly facade. You were also the happiest though when he grew even closer to them, when he smiled more, laughed more, talked more.

You had yet to meet or talk to any of his friends, mostly because you'd been in college, and the pandemic had made it harder. Maybe it was finally time.

~

The day came and you sat in your room, once again a blanket wrapped around you, glasses perched on your nose as you accepted the discord invite Sykkuno sent you.

"DO I GO IN THE CHAT THINGY?" you yelled to Sykkuno, hearing a "YES" before clicking on the voice chat.

You mumbled a "hello", wondering if your mic was on.

"Hey, yeah I can hear you y/n."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you logged into the game, smiling as you heard sykkuno introduce you to his chat. "Hi everyone," you said, feeling a bit weird only talking to a screen. You rubbed your hands, a little nervous to be doing this.

Just then someone else joined and before you could even speak another three people joined as well, all of them yelling hello as they joined.

"He- Hey guys, how's everyone doing?" started sykkuno.

"Im doing great oh my god, guess what guys, I'm-" started Rae, cutting herself off. "wait, whos um "ms snores a lot"?

You were a bit confused for a second, furrowing you eyebrows for a second before realising what had happened.

"SYKKUNO YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCK?" you yelled, staring at the name underneath the voice channel that you now realised belonged to you. You could hear Sykkunos laughter from the other room but you just spluttered indignantly. He was the one who had set up everything on your computer yesterday because technology was something that you rarely messed around with.

"Sykkunooo" you whined, when he kept laughing, "How the fuck do I change it now?"

"Um wait, sykkuno who is this?" asked Rae, the other three echoing her. You glanced at the names and from the voices figured out that it was Rae, Toast, Sean and Corpse in the lobby.

"Hey okay, so guys this is my sister, her names y/n and we recently moved in together, so I asked her to be in the lobby because... um.." he said stuttering at the end to find a reason.

"Because he wanted to embarrass me apparently!" you exclaimed, giving him a way out.

"Oh god, um - you can change it in settings, at the bottom near where your name is."

"Ahhh," you said finding it and then simply typing in your art business name.

"Its nice to meet everyone by the way," you started. "I've been watching your videos for ages so it almost fels like I already know you"

Raes voice started in your ears and you winced at the volume befoe turning it down a bit.

"I would love to say that Sykkuno has told us a lot about you, but the truth is that he keeps a lot of secrets and I didnt even know he had a sister, I AM SO SHOCKED RIGHT NOW"

You gasped. "Sykkuno what the fuck, you didn't even tell Rae?"

"You told me not to tell a lot of people!" he protested.

You heard someone saying "they're so different!' but you ignored it and kept talking.

"Yeah at the start! and on stream! I can't believe you never even said you had a sister." you spluttered out, followed by another gasp.

"Are you embarrassed of me?" you whispered dramatically.

"N-What no of course not!" he exclaimed, and you could also imagine how wide his eyes would have gotten.

You giggled before telling him that you were only joking.

"Um since sykkuno is embarrassed of me," you said jokingly, "I'll just tell you myself."

"I'm like five years younger than sykkuno, I'm a June baby, I do art, my star sign is cancer, I'm 5'4, I recently moved in with sykkuno, and my favourite colour is purple!"

"Oh is that why your username is junefarie? Because you were born in June?" asked Sean.

Before you could say yes, someone else cut in.

"Wait, junefarie?" asked corpse, "like the artist?"

Your eyes widened as you realised that he knew you. Sure you had quite a few followers, but you never expected any of Sykkunos friends to know you from there.

"Um yeah," you said letting out a shocked laugh, "I didnt expect anyone here to know about me."

"Dude, your art is fire!" he exclaimed, voice louder now. "I was honestly thinking of buying a piece soon, I've followed you for ages!"

"Wait, I wanna see as well." whined Rae, "Ima look you up, are you on Instagram?"

"Um," you said still shocked by the fact that somone this big knew you. "yeah I'm on instagram, its just junefarie." you said first replying to Rae, "Um corpse, thankyou so much! thats so nice of yo!"

"Um my art isn't that great yet," you chuckled, embarrassed by all the attention now. "I'm hoping to improve a lot more and I have a bunch of ideas for it as well. I'm hoping to work more now that I moved in with Sy."

"Oh my god, this is amazing," whispered Rae, Toast and Sean echoing her. You ducked your head even though no one could see you. Your cheeks were blazing hot and you pressed your hands to them to cool yourself down.

"Thankyou," you mumbled, not sure what to say.

Someone else entered the lobby, and said "hi" and you welcomed the source of distraction.

"Hi! I'm Sykkunos sister, y/n!" you said , wanting to move away from the topic of your art.

The reply of "sykkuno has a SISTER?" made everyone laugh, successfully moving the attention to Sykkuno and off your art. Finally Sykkuno started the game and you breathed as you lost yourself in the art of gaming.

"OH MY GOD!" yelled Rae as the game ended and everyone appeared in the lobby. "That was like amazing, Y/N I cant belive you pulled that off!"

She was talking about the last game where there was 50/50 between corpse and Sykkuno (because you refused to kill sykkuno when you were imposter) and you somehow managed to convince Sykkuno that it was Corpse.

"Honestly, neither can I!" you exclaimed back staring at your screen, eyes blurring the screen because of how tired you were.

"I can't believe Sykkuno," mumbled corpse. "I literally said I saw her vent and kill toast and Sykkuno was still like "hmmm, I don't think so."

Giggling at Sykkunos yell of "SHES MY SISTER" you yelled out a bye as everyone started leaving and then struggled to find a way to end the call.

"Wait, how do I end it," you muttered to yourself.

You jumped as Corpse talked, not expecting anyone to be there.

"You can see yoru name at the bottom left right? Its above that but a little to the right." he said chucling a little.

"Oh." you said, you cheeks heating up. You didnt know if it was because of him or because you were utterly useless with technology.

"Um thankyou," you said awkwardly.

"No problem."

You exited out of the call, a small smile at your lips.

Sykkunos friends were nice.

~

After the stream, your fanbase grew, and with it, the number of orders as well. For the next week, you were buried under orders, only leaving the house to go to the post office.

An Instagram post on @junefarie account: 

[ID: A photo of y/n and sykkuno standing in the middle of the living room, packages scattered everywhere. Y/n is hugging Sykkuno tight and Sykkuno is staring at the camera, a distressed look on his face.]

Caption: Thankyou so much for all my supporters and all the love shown to me. Sending out loads of orders and I cant wait for you gusy to get yours! Special thanks to @sykkuno for helping me send out orders. luv yu.

Comments: 

@Sykisacutie: best sibling duo!

@valkyrae: hope my order is in their as well.

→ I SCREAMED WHEN SY TOLD ME THAT WAS YOUR NAME.

@corpse_husband: sykkuno looks like he's accepted death.

→ @sykkuno: I would have welcomed death at that point

→ @corpse_husband @sykkuno: okay ill be honest, I would have welcomed death as well.

@ariesin: go best friend, go! we need to get together to paint soon !!

→ SOONNNNNN

~

You flopped onto your bed, every part of your body hurting. Carrying boxes filled with orders down the stairs had tired your whole body, which wasn't used to any exercise at all. That had taken practically the whole day and then you had to clean your room because the mess from the orders had barely left any room to move. You flung your hand to the side, grabbing your phone from the table and bringing it up to your face. The "1:02" was clearly visible on your screen and you unlocked the phone, heading to Twitter. Scrolling through your feed, you liked a few tweets from friends before gearing yourself up and moving to the messages. Ever since you'd played with Corpse, Sykkuno and everyone, you'd been getting a lot of messages. Most of them were just the streamers fans, asking you if you know them or telling you to take care of sykkuno. There were a few though that targeted you, telling you that your art sucked, that they didn't know why Corpse could like my art. You'd taken to deleting them before sleeping so that your inbox wouldn't get cluttered and you could still find any serious requests or messages from your followers. Therefore, you didn't really think anything of it when there was another message from someone with a Corpse icon and you clicked on it only to see the message and gasp, immediately sitting up in bed.

Corpse_Husband → Hey, I was wondering if I could work with you on something? I really love your art and was wanting to commission or collaborate for an album cover or some merch designs. Message me on this number cuz I barely see my dms.

Underneath was a number.

"Oh my god," you whispered, unsure as to what to do.

When you had decided to drop out of college, you had expected hard days. You had expected your normal orders and mostly just improving your art and marketing it more. You had expected long days and not much money in the bank account. You certainly had not expected the immense amount of orders you'd gotten. Along with that, the amount of love and support had taken you by surprise and you had spent the last night crying because of how much love you and your art were getting.

You had also not expected such a big opportunity just landing at your feet.

Quickly you clicked on the number, putting it in your contacts with the name Corpse and then writing a quick message.

"Hey I got your twitter dm! I've personally never done art for merch or album covers but I would love the opportunity!"

You bit your lip, confused as to whether that was enough before deciding it was fine and just sent it.

Your heart beat a little faster as you slumped back onto the bed.

~

@junefarie Instagram story:

[ID: A zoomed-in picture of a drawing, the only part that was visible was curly hair. The text read: "Working on something SO COOL"]

~

Your phone was ringing. Stuffing the rest of the pizza in your mouth, you swept your hand over the covers of your bed, trying to find it. With a muttered "aha", you grabbed it and swiped on the call before it ended. Pressing the phone to your ear, you mumbled a "hello", still chewing the pizza bite.

A low rapsy voice came out of the speaker, one that you definitely didn't expect. You choked on the pizza, coughing out pieces onto the bed.  Sure you guys had messaged each other a bit (you kinda had to because of the commission), but you hadn't expected him to call out of nowhere.

"Um I hope this isn't a bad time," he said when you didn't respond for a second. Of course, he didn't exactly know that hearing his voice so close to your ear had you frozen for a second.

"Um no," you replied, coughing slightly to clear your throat. "It's fine! What did you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, um I know you're already working on the commission and its looking great! I can't wait to work with the merch team to create something really cool with it, but um-" he broke off for a second sounding hesitant. "I really wanna get another commission done as well."

"Oh?" you said after a second when he didn't reply. "I'd be happy to do another one for you!"

"Uh yeah, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit late, You see I was wondering if it could be done before Christmas?"

You sucked in a breath as you counted the days in your mind.

"Hmm, it depends on how big it is tbh. There's still 2 weeks to go till Christmas so I could fit it in," you mumbled, biting your lip as you remembered the onslaught of orders you still had to send out.

"Well," he started and you smiled a little as the excitement crept into his voice. "You know that Sykkuno, Rae, Toast and me are called the 4 Amigops right? I kinda wanted a portrait of all 4 of us, in our um among us colors, and I basically wanted to print it out and send to each of them for Christmas."

"Aww, that sounds like such a good idea, I'm sure they'll all love it!" you smiled, thinking about how much Sykkuno would appreciate that.

"Uh thanks," he mumbled, "do you think you can get it done?"

"Sure!" you replied immediately. You did have a lot of orders, yes, but like, you could fit Corpse in. If you pulled a few all-nighters. "I'll send you the sketches soon okay?"

"Oh thank god, thankyu so much for this y/n, I really appreciate it. Youre one of my favourite artists and I'm really happy that I could finally commisison you after so long."

"So long?" you questioned. "Since when have you known about my art?"

There was a moment of silence and then "Um, around the time you still posted your sketches and stuff I guess?"

You furrowed your eyebrows thinking for a second before letting out a gasp.

"Corpse that was 4 years ago!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, oh my god, I cant believe you've seen those, I was so bad then!"

"No no, they were really good at that time as well! I was so shocked when Sykkuno told us you were his sister because like, I'd been following you for ages and I had absolutely no idea. You guys are like really different."

"Hah yah, Sykkunos so soft, and then there's me. An actual devil."

"Your usernames so different as well! I remember when I first saw a picture of you on your account and I was kind of shocked because based on the name junefarie, I was expecting someone very soft I guess but then you were literally the opposite and wearing actual devil horns."

"Oh god, that was one of the first few photos I posted of myself. that was on Halloween I think,", you took a deep breath still shocked that Corpse had known about you for that long,

"Yeah, I chose junefarie because...”

It was 2 hours later when Corpse said that he should probably be working on his music.

"Oh I'm so sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you,"

"Oh no, I um, I liked talking to you."

Your breath caught for a moment and you smiled like a lunatic at your Pokémon covered bedsheets.

"I liked talking to you as well," you whispered out, heart sinking a little as you realized the call would be ending soon.

"Um, do you, maybe want to stay on call? like I'll just be writing and we can just chill?" he asked and you felt like your prayers had been answered.

"yes" you said quickly, not giving him a chance to back out.

He chuckled, and you fell in love a little.

Just a little.

~

You continued like that, calling each other every few days, talking so much and then at times, not talking at all, simply content with each others company.

He had even started facetiming you, the first time with a mask and then the second without it. You hadn't made a big deal about it, but the first time you saw him, you could barely breathe.

There were five days left until Christmas when you got the idea.

You were entirely not subtle about it, because, well to be honest, there wasn't a subtle bone in your body.

"Hey Corpse, do you like surprises?" you had asked, in the middle of colouring Raes hair (her hair was the last thing left before you could finally print the goddamn thing)

"It depends," he had murmured after a second, voice sending shivers down your spine like every time. Now whether that was because of his voice or because of him, you weren't entirely sure.

"on what?" you prodded when he refused to answer.

"On whether its a good one or a bad one" he had huffed out.

You had hummed, waited for a second and then blurted out that next question because you did not have a cent of patience.

"So what are you doing at Christmas?"

"Sleeping, if I can manage it," he replied, his voice taking on a sardonic tone, eyes flicking to you on the screen. The only thing he could see though was the top of your head because you had your iPad on the bed and were laying over it as you drew.

"Not with that attitude you aren't," you replied right back, making a small smile appear across his face.

"Hmmm, okay!" you said when he didn't reply.

He looked back over, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening as he started to question you.

"Hey did you see the video I sent you?" you quickly asked distracting him from his question.

He would probably guess the surprise but that was okay. You only wanted to make a smile appear on his face. And honestly, for someone with anxiety, a small warning of a surprise was definitely needed.

~

It was Christmas day and you woke Sykkuno up at 6 in the morning with the promise that you'd buy him McDonald's. 30 minutes later, you were both in the car, yelling the lyrics to "All I want for Christmas" at the top of your lungs.

You had told sykkuno of your plan a few days ago and he had smiled at you with that stupid smile, agreeing with a small "alright."

You'd immediately realised that he knew. Even though you pretended otherwise, Sykkuno was the older one and the thing about older siblings was that they always knew.

They always knew.

So there you were, snacks loaded into your car, McDonald's fries practically everywhere, and a cake you had made in the backseat, on your way to Corpses house.

There was a lull in the music, and you were only 30 minutes away from his place, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when Sykkuno asked you a question.

"You like him right?" he murmured, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.

There was a moment of silence as you thought about what to say. Did you like Corpse? Of course, you liked Corpse! He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered and your heart beat faster than ever whenever he looked at you. Hell, that was through a screen, in real life, it would probably be even worse. So of course you liked him! The question was, did he like you back?

"Yeah," you answered Sykkuno, eyes straight on the road.

A second passed and then he smiled. "Good," he replied. and well. That was that. You sighed.

At least you had your brothers blessing.

~

Pulling into the apartment building, you breathed in, your heart beating a million times a second and the butterflies in your stomach had turned into snakes. Maybe, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. I mean, you expected Corpse to get the hint but what if he didn't? and what if he didn't want you to come? Maybe you were being too quick. After all, It'd only been a month since you'd met.

These thoughts plagued your mind as you trudged up the stairs, turning to Sykkuno as you reached the door.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," you whispered to him.

He looked at you, eyebrows high, "We just travelled two hours to get here. There's no way im going back without at least giving him the print."

"What if he doesn't want us to be here?" you hissed.

"Then we'll go away." he stated, "after we give him the print."

"But what if-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the door opened and you both jumped, turning to face the person standing in the doorway.

You forced yourself to breathe as you finally saw him. It was him. Wearing a black beanie, half his hair spilling out the sides, stubble clear on his chin... it was him. At that moment, there was only one thought in your mind.

You were gonna marry this man.

"You suck at whispering," he said, and you huffed out a laugh, jumping onto him without even responding. You wrapped your arms around him, not letting go until Sykkuno cleared his throat from behind you.

You turned back immediately, grabbing the stuff in Sykkunos hands so he could greet Corpse too. As they awkwardly did their handshake/fistbump thing, you walked over to the couch behind them, putting down the print and the takeaway bags, and putting the cakebox down on the table.

You turned around to see them both standing there staring at you.

"Surprise?" you said when no one else spoke. That broke the ice a little and you grabbed the print from the couch thrusting it at Corpse.

"Open it. Open it. Open it." you mumbled, your heart beating fast as he carefully ripped the paper off. The smile that overtook his face made your heart immediately calm.

"It's beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head further into the apartment, mumbling that he was going to put it in the room, eyes still on the print as he walked there.

"You smile is gonna blind me," muttered Sykkuno.

"Oh shut up."

~

A few hours later, you stood in the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into Corpses fridge. You had all chilled, eating cake and the takeout that you and sykkuno had bought, laughing every few minutes. It felt like you were all on an adrenaline rush. You had facetimed Rae and Toast, Rae shrieking when she realised where you guys were. Sykkuno had just fallen into a nap, still tired from being wakened up so early, you assumed.

You leaned against the kitchen bench, smiling as Corpse walked in.

"Thankyou." he said as he came to a stop next to you, matching your position.

"For what?" you mused, even though you had a good enough idea.

"For the print. For coming here. For making my Christmas, a much happier affair than it has been my whole life." he stated, chuckling at the last point.

You turned your head sideways, and you didn't know what it was, but something about his face made you spurn into action. You grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even say anything. It would be too cliche to say that fireworks erupted. And if you were being honest they didn't. Instead, it felt like everything was finally right. You fit perfectly in his arms as they wrapped themselves around you, and you smiled into the kiss as he lifted you up, making you sit at the counter. You twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with your left hand, taking a deep breath in as you both slowed down and pulled away.

"Well," he whispered, "that was unexpected."

You raised a single eyebrow. Honesty you'd done a lot for this relationship. You just drove for nearly 3 hours! If he wanted it to progress, he was gonna have to say it himself.

"But not unwelcome," he continued when you didn't speak. A moment passed, where you could see that he was psyching himself up to say something. Finally, with a heaving sigh, he whispered  "Darling, would you do me the honour of being called yours?"

You melted right there.

A nod was all he needed before he grabbed your lips with his again, both of you giggling when he accidentally hit the side of your mouth instead of the lips.

The sound of a picture being taken filled the air, making you spring apart and swing your heads over to the doorway, which had sykkuno leaning against it, his phone in his hand.

"Thank god. Rae and Toast bet that you wouldn't confess until after Christmas, so now they both owe me 20 bucks." he said, now fiddling on the phone. "Dont worry Corpse, I'll add a circle over your face or something."

Your mouth dropped open as you stared at your brother.

"You bet on my love life?" you scoffed, still shocked.

At his nod though, you swung off the bench, marching until you were eye to eye to him.

"I want half the winnings."

Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the living room, jumping onto the sofa.

"C'mon, let's watch one more episode before heading back," he said and you jumped in next to him, patting the space next to you as Corpse came in behind you.

You grabbed Sykkunos hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you were grateful that he didn't make it such a big deal. Leaning your head on corpses shoulder, you smiled to yourself.

You'd have to leave in 30 minutes, to drive back to your parents and spend the rest of Christmas with them, leaving Corpse behind. And that made you a bit sad sure, but it couldn't overpower the feeling of pure happiness at being here. At giving him a happier Christmas. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Nothing could overpower this feeling of absolute happiness.

fin.

Corpse husband taglist:  @mythicalamphitrite @ramble-writes @atsumubabe @anxiouskat5646 @itssierramcquade @xaestheticalien @jotaroslightning @starstruckllamapuppy @gxldenskiez @shinyshimaagain @cavanana @fee-btheweeb (send an ask to be added!)

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Reggie//i like it here so much i might stay

Request: Can I request an imagine with Reggie Mantle that has an African American girlfriend and he was invited to a family cookout?? I hope that’s ok with you... btw I love your work❤️❤️Thank you!!!

hey!! this is super cute!! its very fluffy and just really sweet. or at least i hope it is! i really hope you like it!! have an amazing day! title is from ‘emoticons’ by the wombats.

The sun shining casts a soft glow over you as you walk home. You and Reggie may have just recently moved in together, renting a little apartment just outside of Riverdale, but it doesn’t mean that your parents aren’t insisting for you to come over every Sunday. 

It’s the perfect weather for the first proper cookout Reggie has been invited to and to say both of you are excited is an understatement. Just the thought of all the food makes the both of you walk faster. 

Summers officially started meaning there’s going to be plenty of weekends spent like this. And you may have only seen everyone a week ago, but it’s been a long week. Filled with work and unpacking and filling in forms and just getting used to living with each other. So, your dads cooking and your moms hugs are exactly what you need. Even if you do have to suffer through questions about marriage and babies. 

You and Reggie hold hands while walking down the busy streets. Reggie swings your arms a little, the motion making you giggle as it slowly turns into a competition as to who can swing them higher. Both of you smile as you pass a few people you know, sending them polite waves and exchanging small talk. 

“So are you excited?” You ask, turning the corner onto your street. The memories of you and Reggie that are kept within the street make you smile as you reminisce. Walking home from first dates, sharing shy looks and small touches. Summers spent in the back garden, laughing at stupid jokes and stealing kisses when no one is watching. Winters spent throwing snowballs at each other when the other is unsuspecting, narrowly avoiding passing cars and your mom telling you off, despite being almost 20. 

“Very.” Reggie replies, an excited grin on his face as he looks at you. “I’ve been thinking about your dads cooking all week.” 

“Aww.” You pinch his cheeks and he rolls his eyes, pushing you away gently. “Is there something else going on with my dad? If you have a little crush you can tell me you know.” 

“Nah, it’s just he can cook a lot better than his daughter.” He shrugs, sending you a cheeky smile as you stare at him annoyed. 

“Ouch.” You feign offense. “I’ll just remember that the next time you’re hungry and can’t be bothered to make anything.” 

“Thats what UberEats is for.” He replies. “Or even better I’ll come here.” He shrugs. You stop walking and glare at him while he continues to walk ahead. Once he realizes you’re not beside him he stops and turns around. Pouting sarcastically at you while you cross your arms. 

“Awww, babe.” He teases. “I’m sorry. Come on.” He holds his hand out towards you and you look at it for a few seconds before reluctantly taking it. 

“By the looks of all the cars, I think we might be the last one here.” You say as you look around. 

“Is that a good or bad thing?” He asks, letting you lead him through the gate and up the steps 

“We’ll find out.” You smile. Your eyes light up in the sunlight and Reggie has to take a second to remember how to breathe. You still take his breath away, after all these years spent together. Even when you were just friends, you still managed to make him forget about everything other than you whenever you walked into a room. You don’t notice the way he’s staring at you, too busy trying to remember if there was anything you were might to bring, and he feels his smile grow as he watches your eyebrows furrow and your lips pout. 

“Hey, am I forgetting something?” You turn to face him, your breath hitching when you see the way he’s looking at you. 

“I don’t think so.” He replies, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Wait! One more thing before we go in.” He says quickly, and you pause your knocking.

“What?” You ask and look at him. He presses his lips to yours quickly and your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you gently. He pulls away just as quickly, giving you another gentle smile before knocking on the door. However when he notices you looking around panicked, he pauses, the happy expression changing quickly to worry. 

“What?” 

“Shit. I forgot the dip. My mom is going to kill me.” 

“No she isn’t.” He replies, holding up a bag and you look at him in disbelief. 

“I didn’t even notice that. How did I not notice that?” 

“Too busy staring at my very handsome face.” He laughs, nudging you gently and you roll your eyes at him. 

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that.” You reply. “But thank you.” You cup his cheek and kiss him. “Ready?” 

“Definitely!” He replies, now practically bouncing as he waits for you to knock on the door. 

“Oh, hold on. Before we go in. Don’t mention the divorce. I wasn’t exactly supposed to tell you, and my mom definitely wasn’t supposed to tell me.” 

“When would that possibly come up in conversation?” He wonders and you look back at him shrugging. 

“Dunno. But it could. So you don’t know anything.” You warn, pointing your finger at him and he holds his hands up. 

“I got it.” 

“Good.” You smile and finally knock on the door. It’s already unlocked so you push it open. Reggie follows you, closing it behind him and placing the bag on the floor while he takes his jacket off. 

Your dad is the first to greet you, walking past the front door with arms full off food when you walk in. Reggie is quick to take some from him once his jacket is hung up and your dad gives him a thankful smile, before turning to look at you. 

“Y/n!” 

“Hey dad.” You smile and give him a quick hug. “How is everyone?” 

“Good, good. Hungry as you can see.” He gestures to the food and you roll your eyes. 

“They always are when they come here.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way though.” He laughs. “Come on Reggie, follow me.” The two of them walk through the house and you watch as they walk out into the back garden, Reggie laughing loudly as something he’s said before he starts talking to the rest of your family. 

You pick up the bag with the dip in and walk towards the kitchen in hopes of finding your mom. A few of your cousins run past you making you stop quickly, and you smile as they say a quick ‘hi’ to you before running off again. 

“Hey mom.” You say to your mom as you walk into the kitchen. She’s got her head in the fridge while she searches for god knows what but you see her stick her arm out to wave at you. 

“Here’s the dip you wanted. What do you want me to do with it.” 

“You’re late.” She says, sending you a look as she closes the door. 

“It was her fault. She insisted on changing her outfit three times.” The patio doors open suddenly and Reggie chimes in from outside.

“Y/n.” Your mom says disappointing and you glare at Reggie. 

“Wha-. No, thats not what happened. He was the one that spent an hour just on his hair.” You argue but it’s no use, they both just look at you. Your mom shakes her head and tuts at you while Reggie just smirks proudly at himself. 

“I don’t believe that.” She replies and looks at Reggie. “Reggie would never. Now go put these on the table outside and make sure the twins don’t eat any yet.” 

“Yes mom.” You huff and grab the stuff off the bench. 

“Y/n?” She calls after you and you look back at her. 

“I’ve missed you.” She says, a sincere smile on her face and you mirror it, putting the stuff back down so you can hug her. 

“I’ve missed you two Mrs Y/l/n.” Reggie walks through the door and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend as you pick up the food. Your mom pinches his cheek and brings him in for a hug and a small smile plays on your lips as you watch them interact. 

“Reggie! Do you want a beer.” Your dad shouts from outside and Reggie’s eyes widen as your mom lets go of him.

“I’d love one Mr Y/l/n.” He replies.

“Reginald. You know you can call me Y/d/n.” He replies making you scoff quietly. Reggie passes you with a smirk and you follow him out. 

“What do you do to these people? Why do my family love you more than me?” 

“What can I say?” He shrugs. “Its just my charm.” 

“Y/m/n!” Your dad shouts. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“You can, but it’ll take you half an hour.” Your mom retorts making you all laugh loudly. 

“I love you sweetheart.” He chuckles. 

“I love you too but it still doesn’t change the fact that you have the worst memory in the world.” Your mom replies, coming outside with a tray full of drinks. Reggie helps you put the food down, re-arranging the table to fit everything on and once you’re finished the two of you throw chips at each other when nobody is looking. 

“Not as bad as your uncle’s. He forgot he was married.” Reggie whispers making you snort a laugh. A few family members look in your direction and you both send them awkward smiles until they look away. 

“I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.” He grabs your hand and gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it. Your fingers feel empty without his so you busy yourself with snacking while your mom isn’t paying any attention.

Music floats outside from the radio placed by the door and you take a minute to soak in the moment. Your mom and dad dance while the the food cooks beside them. Your cousins sit in a circle, eating sweets and stolen snacks, despite their parents continuous nagging. Your aunts and uncles talk about work and bills trying hard not to bring up the divorce. And Reggie sits and talks to your grandmother. She laughs at some stupid joke he’s told her and you smile at the sight. 

“You okay?” Reggie asks once he returns. Everyone is happily eating, sat on chairs your mom only brings out for special occasions. Reggie sits beside you, being kicked out of his seat by a couple of your cousins. His plate being carefully balanced in his hands as he gets comfy and you look up at him. 

“More than okay.” You nod. Your mind wanders to a near distant future when you’re doing this at your own home. 

Your dad still insisting on cooking despite Reggie’s protests and your mom moving everything you’ve already put out. Maybe your aunt and uncle sharing snide remarks about each other with their new partners. Your grandmother telling you stories of when her and your grandpa first moved in together. Your cousins older but still just as annoying, bringing first loves with them. It perfect, and it’s so close. 

So you grab Reggie’s hand and give it a squeeze, hoping he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

He is, and he’s just as excited for it. 

[freudwasmybitch]

i just cant get over lilnasx doing an ad for fucking ubereats. like. were you doing rough there, my guy? rents due in a week and your multiple best selling singles arent cutting it.

that being said, i sideye any successful artist who does ads for a company. like, manage your money a little better fellas. imagine getting more money than most people will see in ten lifetimes and thinking, "ya know what i need? its more money."

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part six ~ to be more normal ~

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (part six)

A/N: I want to thank each of you who have continued reading and supporting me through all these parts (that’s almost 12k words total!) and I hope you keep wanting to stick around until the end. Stay safe. Stay healthy. 

Summary: Alex visits with James & Fraser in a bid to distract himself from thinking about his feelings toward Y/N. George is concerned.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Implications of Disordered Eating Habits. References to a Real/Imagined Domestic. An Absurd Amount of Pining.  

Word Count: 2.4k

Subdued shades of orange with the occasional single brushstrokes of pink projected through his bedroom window and painted him in light. A bird chirped, and another chirped back in a cycle of communication lost on other animals. Alex did not realize the change outside his window until the light gradient settled on a loud yellow and created glare on his monitor.

It was sunrise, and he had just finished editing for his most recent video. Where the hours of work went was unclear as it played back with the same level of effects as other videos on his channel. But the hours showed in his fringe, darkened with grease, and in his hands that shook from low blood sugar.

Sleep was for the strong – for those who executed enough psychological control to shush their thoughts. To untie their mental boat and let it drift into the oblivion sea. Alex was not one of those people. Quieting his internal monologue required medication that put him in a state not unlike how he imaged it felt to be roofied.

Or else he did not sleep.

And Alex did not sleep that night. Not because he needed to edit or because he was so busy he did not realize he was tired. No, none of that. He knew he was tired: exhausted even: his limbs felt heavier as, throughout the evening, his blood was spliced and diluted with concrete mix.

Why did he not take his medication? Why not sleep? He did not want to be trapped in ~the dream~ again.

Despite his fundamental understanding of the uncontrollable manner in which the unconscious forms dreams, Alex was consumed with guilt for dreaming about kissing his friend's girlfriend. So, he punished himself: not allowing his mind rest nor his stomach food as he threw himself into his editing.

He would not allow himself think about it long enough to come to the obvious conclusion – that the real issue was not the dream itself. Despite what imallexx edits might guide someone to believe (with their cutesy music over compilations of smiling pictures or clips of him laughing), Alex was a young man in his twenties. And young men (who enjoy kissing) think and fantasize and dream about kissing.

And far more than kissing but regardless... He had dreamed about kissing his friends' girlfriends before: or at least Mia that one time. Ok, two times. He had dreamed about kissing cute men he saw on the train. He had even once dreamed about kissing Princess Leia.

It was natural. But Alex's thoughts about Y/N felt damning, felt wrong. Perhaps because it was the first instance in which he thought he had a chance to get the girl. Not that he would do; he refused.

It hit him. If he were always doing something else, then he would simply not have time to think about it – about her. Alex grabbed a pencil off his desk and his JoJo Siwa notebook and wrote a schedule for the coming week.

His hand cramped from furiously trying to keep up with dictating the information as it spilled from his head. He finished writing, but there were still stretches of time to fill-up including that entire morning. Was he desperate enough to disconnect from himself that he would risk the Budweiser Bug to visit his other friends outside his apartment building? Yes.

While rummaging around his bedroom for fresh(er) clothing to wear, Alex swiped a hat off his desk and concealed his unwashed hair with it. Not his tiktok bucket hat nor his iconic pink one, it was a lilac snapback with an image of lavender embroidered on the side. He rang Fraser.

“Hello?” Fraser answered with a voice bogged down with exhaustion. 

“How’re you doing?” Alex greeted.

“Um.” (a pause – a processing delay) “Fine. Good. Yeah, what about you?” 

“Trying to keep busy.” He tucked his wallet and keys into the pocket of a pair of joggers he found hanging, oddly enough, over the towel rail in his bathroom. Changing into them required a series of short jumping motions as he used just one hand. “You have any videos to film that I could jump in on?”

“Well I’ve been brainstorming ideas for a new series called…”

At the bathroom sink: Alex did not wait for the water to warm before splashing it over his face. He did a quick once-over and washed his cheeks and forehead with hand soap. Picking up his toothbrush from its holder stirred an uneasiness in him, he could not explain; he brushed his teeth and spit without rinsing.

Returning into the conversation he caught the middle of what would sound like a rant or passionate tangent if he did not know that was just how Fraser talked, “…and I’ve been working on a script for something on social repose—”

“Another needs to be stopped?" asked Alex.

Fraser laughed, letting it linger before continuing, "You got me. It's not done, but I could definitely use you for some reaction bits."

"Great! I'll be setting off within the hour." Ambling around – as is the norm during phone calls – Alex found himself in the kitchen. Half-full liters of lemonade, grocers bags, and dirty dishes cluttered the counters. He worked around the rubbish to make himself scrambled eggs with ham.

Fraser asked, "And you're sure about leaving the apartment? With the Bug? We could do a discord-call."

"Might as well get in some time on the train before things shut down."

"Alright, mate," there was a smile behind Fraser's voice, "just don't get arrested."

With their call ended, Alex finished cooking. He ate his entire breakfast in the same amount of time it took him to pull on his shoes.

During the train ride, he turned his phone's volume to eighty percent and blasted his music through his earbuds. His playlist was a mixture of two to three alt-rock or indie pop bands with a sprinkling of mainstream hits: a calm and comfortable backbeat throughout. No outlier tracks that burst into hard-hitting or exceptionally fast beats – nothing that might pump-up his adrenaline or be useful to scream along with in a fit of anger. That was not the connection he made with music in his formative years. Music to him was something to drown out that pesky internal monologue when lying in bed for too long – doing nothing – but perhaps pondering on some heartbreaking or otherwise emotional line in a song.

He arrived at Fraser and James' apartment when it was still technically morning. Knocking on the door, he was greeted with frantic barking and his tired ~obviously hungover~ friend.

After fussing over Kenji, Alex spotted the camera set-up in the kitchen and took his seat. Fraser and him watched several of social repose's music videos: covers of emo electronic, synth-pop songs, and a lot more original EMD songs than either man guessed – and all were dreadful. Neither could sit through a single video for more than forty-five seconds, and most of the footage they shot was just of their mouths hanging open in a disturbed shock.

Nonetheless, it was a great distraction. Alex liked feeling like he was helping out smaller channels – even if it was just those who were his friends.

Only as Fraser was cleaning up his equipment and Alex was sitting on the couch playing with Kenji, did James clamber out of bed and stroll out of his bedroom.

"Ow. What was that?" Alex asked in an exaggerated voice when the shiba nipped at yet another one of his fingers. Turning his attention to James, he asked, "Has he been biting a lot recently?"

James answered in his softer and calmer 'tired' voice, "He only bites sometimes. His brain is probably just locked on the idea of food right now; this is around the time Fraser usually feeds him."

"I just wanted a picture for instagram." Alex tried to find a good angle to hold his phone. He pushed Kenji to sit on his lap for a nice picture (which was sure to get hundreds of comments and love heart emojis), but the shiba was far too hyper to sit still. The few useable photos he got were of Kenji biting at and tugging the strings of his hoodie. "Come on, Kenj."

"Reckon he knows what you're doing with your phone, just mugging you off on purpose."

Alex hung around the apartment for the rest of the afternoon: enjoying an ubereats lunch and having James crush him at mario kart...multiple times in a row. The three talked youtube and the continuing aftershocks and effects of the ad crisis, and Fraser asked for feedback on a few video ideas.

An hour or two from sunset, Alex said his goodbyes and caught the train home to his apartment. Upon unlocking the front door, he was met with an interrogation.

"And where have you been all day?" asked George standing with his feet planted shoulder-width apart, and his arms crossed over his chest – the spitting image of a disapproving parent to a reckless teenager.

Smiling his fang-displaying side smile, Alex challenged, "Why do you need to know?"

"Sammy came over to film the opening pokemon cards video, and you weren't here. Neither of us could get a hold of you. Do you even care about my upload schedule?" It was a half-humorous rant with an eerie sense of latent seriousness.

"Phone died." He shrugged, not looking his flatmate in the eye and certainly not wanting to admit the truth – he put his phone on do not disturb earlier that morning, muting most everyone, including George and Sammy.

There was not an ounce of belief in George's expression, "Fine. Where were you, though, for real? You never leave the flat, let alone disappear; almost called Will and got a search team going."

"I was just filming with Fraser." Alex bent over to take off his trainers. There was a click from his shoulder when he did – alarming for such young bones. "We should host something soon."

And he meant soon. As talk of a complete social shutdown, rather than just more public health advisements, dominated news outlets; the thought of non-essential businesses being made to close their doors was frightening. And what was worse than the eking paranoia seeping into every day, was the horrifying realization that the pubs were considered non-essential.

Uncrossing his arms, George's posture shifted to be more normal. His brow furrowed as he seemed to examine his flatmate heavily; even so, he nodded in agreement. "Sure, we could do that."

"Great," Alex chirped and started toward his bedroom.

George grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him. His hand clasped tight enough that his fingers touched his thumb, and nails would have dug into the pale skin – if he had nails that is. Both men were silent amongst the awkwardness of the interaction.

Sidestepping out of the armlock, Alex waited for George to speak.

"You're doing ok. Right, Al?"

"Yeah. I'm ok."

"But, you'd tell me if you weren't."

"Of course." Alex left to his bedroom. It was in a bad state, but he did not bother himself with picking clothes off the floor or taking food wrappers from his side table to the kitchen bin. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked for messages: sure enough, there were eleven messages from George: ranging from asking where he was to blaming his laziness for ruining their chance to film.

Alex flopped himself onto his bed and started to scroll through his photos with Kenji. There was not much choice, so he took the least blurry one and posted it to instagram – with a bright filter and a sarcastic caption that took him longer to come up with than he would have liked.

Fifty minutes he spent scrolling through instagram, occasionally checking back to watch the likes on his photo go up and to reply to some of the first commenters. It was mind-numbing in the good and proper sense.

Until he saw it – and it was not his fault, he just happened upon it – and it sent his thoughts into hyperdrive.

A post. A photo. Y/N sitting on her sofa in the dark with the one light source (presumably her television) from behind the camera casting a blue light across her face. One hand clutching the blanket in her lap as the other hand was held up. Jewel-like eyes peering through her fingers and connecting with the camera. A smile playing purposefully on her lips.

If Alex's thoughts at that moment were put into a blender, they might still have come out making more sense than they did in his head. Eyes. Lips. Blue. Watching? Angelic. Eyes. Fingers. Dancing. Blue. Lips. Taste. Lips. Soft. Photographer. Photographer.

Before he might ask for the app to load more photos, Alex's burst of energy and hectic but classic over-thinking was interrupted. From above him came the sound of muffled shouting. He held his breath, stilled as if a prey animal not wanting to be spotted, and focused an ear to the noise.

There were no words he could pick out, but from what he could tell – or from the details he filled in – it was not a light argument of few words but something that might supersede a genuine scrap. And it was coming from Sammy and Y/N's apartment.

As he listened, his imagination wandered. Alex visualized himself, rushing to Y/N's aid and wrapping his thin arms around her in more emotional comfort than physical protection. He saw her turn to him with wet eyes and a red nose before burying her face into his shirt. It would be uncomfortable – as it is to be around distressed people. Yet it would be comfortable – as she would fit against him so well.

Again, his imagination wandered. Alex visualized himself as the one shouting at Y/N and growing angrier as she refused his hard-hitting gaze. He saw her turn to him with wet eyes and a red nose before hiccupping out a sob and dashing from the room. No. That was not right. It was wrong. He would not— could not do that.

[sgt-reinhardt]

Weird fantasy concept I had earlier...

So I surprised my partner, rae (they're trans and prefer he/them), by showing up at our mutual friend's house without telling them. Well, I kinda took it to far and I ended up giving him hickeys. His parents found out and they wanna meet me before he can talk to me again (unbeknownst to them, we've been talking still). Anyways, so I thought I need to learn how to drive still, and get a job. It's a pandemic, so I thought go do ubereats, doordash, that thing. And thus my imagination kicked in. I haven't been to his house yet, but I do know its pretty far. Like 40min drive. My mind went to this idea that I'm doing a doordash delivery to his house without me knowing. I walk up to the door, knock and see its him. I'm shocked and surprised, but happy. But then... the parents, more so the dad cuz rae has told me he wants to kill me and they even sent a picture of the dad with guns in hand. Yeah, I'm totally not terrified...

And that about it

My own family doesnt even know about any of this. I'm not scared, I just dont wanna deal with the teasing from my dad. Everyone (I dont know about my mom) in my family would be ok with it and accept me, including my dad. But the damn teasing is the part I dont know about

[clumsyclifford]

you’re the photographer who’s been camped in front of my penthouse apartment for two weeks and i finally got lonely enough to come downstairs and share my leftovers with you” au or the child star one please i am begging you -it’s me rye rye rye your boat

ok im working on the child star thing but its gonna end up being much longer so heres this which honestly also ran away from me let’s see if tumblr will even let it all post it’s almost 2k ENJOY thank u for the prompt ily

-

The first day, Calum glances out the window and sees a whole host of paps on his front step and thinks, good thing I did the shopping yesterday.

The third day, most of them have gone except a few stragglers. Calum is determined to wait them out.

The sixth day, Calum is starting to run low on milk, and there's only one person left out there. He’s properly set up camp, actually, in a beat-up Volkswagen that makes Calum chuckle, then catch himself for chuckling because this man is for all intents and purposes his mortal enemy. Calum finds it strange that someone with such brightly colored hair and (squinting, he thinks he can make out) tattoos would be a paparazzi. He looks more like a punk groupie than a photographer, but to each their own, Calum supposes. He's tempted to make a break for it, or maybe sneak out in a cap and sunglasses, but leaving the apartment at all will get him photographed, and sue him, he’d like to be left alone. This is, like, the only month he gets to himself before training starts up again. He intends to take full advantage of it. Total invisibility.

Which would be a lot easier if this fucking pap wasn’t dead set on snapping his photo. Calum sees him turn the lens of the camera towards Calum’s front window, and he hastily moves out of sight.

The tenth day, Calum calls Luke.

“What?” Luke asks.

“‘Hey, Cal, nice to hear from you,’” Calum says. “Thanks, Lukey, right back at you.”

“I thought you were doing radio silence for a month,” Luke says. “Like, keeping your head down.”

“I am,” Calum says, exasperated. “There’s just one guy who’s been camped out in front of my building for, like, almost two weeks.”

“So what? Just go past him. He’s just one guy,” Luke says. Calum envies Luke. It must be nice to not care what the press thinks. Not that Calum cares, exactly; he just hates that they’re so insistent on being invasive. Calum’s not supposed to be a public figure, he’s supposed to be a symbol of Aussie pride. He plays soccer, that’s all. Nothing to be excited about.

“No,” Calum says. He’s not sure where this dogged determination is coming from, but he knows he would rather die than acknowledge the paparazzi out in front of his building. He’s got a right to his privacy, damn it. “Look, it’s a whole thing, I don’t want to get into it. But, uh, I’m sort of short on a few groceries. D’you mind…”

Luke heaves an exhausted sigh that Calum recognizes well. He calls it the fucking hell Calum the things I do for you sigh. Sounds similar to the fucking hell Ashton the things I do for you sigh, but less horny.

“Fine,” he says. “Send me a list.”

Luke gets photographed on his way both up and down the building. Calum watches the one stubborn pap take his picture, look at it on the camera screen, and slump over as if thoroughly drained.

Well. That’s his problem. 

After two weeks, Calum caves.

He’s been subtly watching the pap out the window, and every day he looks a little worse for wear. Not that Calum can see him very well, but he can tell in the set of his shoulders, the way he leans against the steering wheel of his car or slouches against the driver’s window. Calum hasn’t been consistently staring, but he’s pretty sure this guy hasn’t even left. How is he eating? Is he eating? UberEats, maybe? Calum shudders to imagine living off of delivery Maccas. Here he is, eating home-cooked food, and this poor pap has been sitting out there, probably wishing he could go home and make some pasta.

For the first time in his recorded life, Calum takes pity on the paparazzi.

He cobbles together some leftovers from the past few nights — homemade pizza, a bean dish he’d got off the internet that hadn’t been half bad, and some spaghetti bolognese. He heats it all up and then takes the elevator down to the lobby.

Calum has genuinely not left his apartment in two entire weeks, so the greying evening takes him aback, but not nearly as much as when he makes eye contact with the blue-haired pap and the guy doesn’t instantly take his picture. Also, Calum thinks, despite his best efforts not to acknowledge it, he has to admit this is the most attractive paparazzi he’s ever met, and easily the most laid-back. Is that an eyebrow piercing? Fucking hell.

The pap rolls down his window. “Uh, hi?”

Calum starts to feel a bit silly, but whatever, he’s already here. “Hi,” he says. “Uh, you’ve just — you’ve been camped out here awhile, and I thought…maybe you’d want some real food? Not just, like, UberEats?”

The blue-haired pap looks suspicious. “Is this a bribe?”

“No, I wish,” Calum says, laughing a little. “If anything, this feels like feeding a kitten to encourage it to stay. I’d love for you to leave, but if you’re not going to, the least I can do is make sure you’re eating well.”

“I’ll leave,” the blue-haired guy says, surprising Calum. “I — I’ve wanted to leave since I got here. I’m sorry. You don’t have to feed me —”

“I insist,” Calum says, because he’s already gone through the trouble of heating it up, and he has a fork and everything. God, he’s going to regret this, he thinks, before adding: “Unlock the door? I’ll sit with you.”

The blue-haired guy looks positively dumbstruck. “Um,” he says. “You don’t have to.”

“Believe me, I know,” Calum says. “You just look like you could use the company. And, to be honest, so could I. What’s your name?”

“Michael,” blue-haired guy says, smiling gratefully with just a touch of apprehension. “Alright, if you say so.”

He hits a button, and Calum comes around to the passenger side and climbs into the car. It occurs to him that Michael could easily kidnap him right now. Calum’s entirely defenceless, and has just willingly gotten into a car with him.

(But Michael doesn’t look that strong, and Calum’s an athlete, for god’s sake. He could take him.)

“Here,” Calum says when he’s settled, offering up the food. “It’s all warm and everything.” He hesitates as Michael takes the tupperwares and cracks one open. “You — you said you wanted to leave? Why haven’t you?”

Michael already has a mouthful of spaghetti, so he covers his mouth with his hand and swallows before speaking. Calum tracks the way his Adam's apple moves, then mentally slaps himself for doing that.

“‘S my job,” Michael says. “Not because I like it. It just, it pays well enough, and…it’s not like I have anything better to do with my time. I’m usually not invasive like this, I swear. I try to keep at the back, I just get some blurry photos and people pay me for them, nobody usually cares. But my boss was, like, crazy about this. He kept pushing to get exclusive photos, and then when he heard you had a month off, he told me to stake you out like my life depended on it.” Michael looks incredibly sheepish, hanging his head. “Sorry, mate. I thought I could just get a few pictures on the first day and be done with it, and then when you didn’t come out, I tried to tell my boss you’d holed up. But he wasn’t having it. Told me to stick it out.”

“Christ,” Calum says, aghast. “Your boss sounds like a real dick.”

“He is,” Michael says agreeably. “But, you know. I need the money, so.”

Calum likes how honest Michael is. It’s refreshing. People tend to lie to him a lot, especially in regards to his job, which he’s usually very good at, but gets told he’s good at even when he’s not. Michael’s forthright, though. Calum appreciates it about him.

“Well,” he says obligingly, “take a few photos now and take them back to your boss. Can even say you got an exclusive interview if that wins you any points.”

Michael raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t.”

“Fine,” Calum says. “Ask me a question. Wait.” He pulls his phone out and opens up the voice memo app. Hits record. “Alright, ask me a question.”

Michael looks amused. “Okay, but you’re not going to like this question very much.” Calum gestures for him to go on. “Okay. Um, what exactly are you famous for?”

Calum stares at him and then bursts out laughing.

Once he’s calmed down, he manages, “I never thought I’d say this, but I am absolutely delighted to have met you, Michael. I’m the center forward for Socceroos.”

“Oh,” Michael says, grinning. “Explains why I don’t know you, then. I’m not really a sports guy.”

“Yeah? What kind of guy are you?”

Michael shrugs. “Music, really. Part of why I ended up in this line of work.”

So Calum’s initial instinct had been correct. He’s weirdly proud to know that.

“Well, Calum Hood,” Michael says, and Calum likes how his name sounds in an unfamiliar voice, saying it because it’s what he’s called, not because it’s some big name to throw around, “what’s your favorite color?”

“Blue,” Calum says.

“How many years have you played soccer?”

“Most of them. Boring question, been asked that a million times,” Calum answers. “Come on, be creative.”

Michael arches his eyebrow, like he’s ready for the challenge. “Alright then. Worst drink you ever had?”

“Any time I have to drink beer in America, it’s a dark day,” Calum says. American beer is awful, and he will die on that hill.

“Favorite song at the moment?”

“‘Monsters’ by All Time Low.” Michael hums appreciatively.

“Good taste. Favorite article of clothing you own?”

Calum glances down at himself. “Probably this sweatshirt,” he admits, because he’s pretty sure at this point the sweatshirt is legally part of his body. Has he even taken it off in two weeks? Hard to say.

“Uh, worst way you’ve ever tried to pick someone up?”

Calum really only thinks for a moment before diving headfirst. “Well, once there was this pap who sat outside my building for two weeks, so I brought him my leftovers because I felt badly, but then he turned out to be fairly interesting and very attractive, so.”

Michael turns pink. He grabs Calum’s phone and turns off the recording.

“You’re not picking me up,” Michael says. “You can’t. This is my car.”

Calum laughs. He likes Michael. “Humor me,” he says. “You can say no. I’ll still let you have the pictures and everything, I’m not a total dickhead.”

“I didn’t say no,” Michael says. He lifts up his camera. “Smile.”

Calum makes his most serious face at the camera and listens for the click. He makes another face, and the camera clicks again. Then again, and once more.

“Alright,” Michael says. “That’s my job done. I’m officially off the clock. You were asking me something, I think?”

“You’re a shit,” Calum says. “I might take it back.”

Michael grins. “You will not.”

No, he won’t. “Fine,” he says. “Dinner? Or, uh, ice cream? You’ve sort of just eaten.”

“Won’t say no to ice cream,” Michael says. He looks over at Calum and smirks. “Imagine if this is the ‘how I met your father’ story.”

It’s an extremely forward thing to say, Calum’s too busy laughing to call him out on it.

[literature-islit]

Donna Tartt - The Secret History (1992)

Sometimes, I think the happiest times of my life were the two months I spent living without a TV or wifi in a small country town. 

gather round children... 

My housemate had just moved out, and I was going to move out two months later, and the internet was in his name, and I couldn't really be bothered going through the hassle of making my own internet account, etc, so I just figured I’d make do. And it’s funny, like, at first it was at times a little boring and a little scary. Sometimes, I just wanted a comforting noise to have on in the evenings when the sun was down and things were quiet. 

So, I lived old school.

fun for the whole family

I listened to the radio... I read magazines... I played mp3s from my iTunes... and sometimes I just stared at the ceiling in silence. And, you know what? It actually was incredibly peaceful. I did all the stuff I had to use wifi for at work, and once I got home I dedicated myself to just... emptying my mind and chilling out. 

GPOY

I was obviously frothing to get back to 21st century life but even still now, the world of instantaneous communication at my fingertips, and zoom chats to attend and so on - I think back about my life without these technologies and I feel a little nostalgic. Because, don’t you think, sometimes the pressure of always being on and available gets a little much?

You know. Zoom chats are awkward, because u can’t read body language so you’re either talking over each other or trying to judge if the gap is long enough to speak. And, with the option of sending an interstate friend a text or FB message, it feels like there’s too much pressure to... I don't know. Stay engaged in a conversation. Whereas, sometimes I just wonder if I’d have a better quality of discussion if I reverted to writing letters?

I am, once again, in danger of going full Luddite.

There’s something I like to do, when I want to delve deeper into my nostalgia for the past and step deeply inside an all-encompassing retro reverie. When I want to feel the textures of telephone conversations and notes hastily scrawled and dropped in pigeon holes. A time when study meant libraries, and old books and handwriting (not jstor), when you had to walk hungover to get food (no UberEats), when you could go to your college dining hall and enjoy a cigarette with your black coffee (ok, just joking about that one)...

In other words, I step into the world in between the covers of Donna Tartt’s The Secret History.

Donna Tartt is so cool. She went to Bennington College with my (extremely problematic) fav writer Bret Easton Ellis, and while he scrawled his Valium-drenched numbed-out hip-lit Less Than Zero, she was passing him chapter after chapter of the novel that would eventually (she takes her time writing - as you should - can’t rush perfection) become her first bestseller. 

the epitome of cool

Anyway, the story goes something like this: Californian outsider from blue collar family attends arts school in wintry Vermont and becomes intrigued by a group of outsiders who spend their school days studying Ancient Greek with an impressive, passionate teacher with sparkling blue eyes. Eventually, they invite him to the periphery of their clique. As he slowly gets to know them, he becomes aware of a secret - they spend odd hours of the night whispering in secret, there are unexplained tensions and injuries and stains on the sheets...

Also, from the novel’s opening, you are aware that one member of the group will soon die. 

anyone who’s read the book - would this celeb couple not be perfect to play the role of the twins if they were (which they should) to make some kind of netflix miniseries of the novel?

Suspense and intrigue ensues. There is the most vivid depiction of a cold winter I’ve ever read in a book, which had me shivering and clutching at my doona even at the peak of summer. As someone who has lived at a college, the richly textured depiction of college life sent me immediately back to the oak fittings and heavy, stuck windows of my first year dorm room. THIS IS A BOOK TO SAVOUR. 

you also might learn a little something about the ancient greeks. 

Anyway i read this Good Reads review of it where the reader was criticising the story because the characters were “pretentious” and it felt all like some kind of humble-brag about how “alternative” a group of friends might be and etc, and while I respect the review author’s POV i have to say I disagree totally. You know, most American novels about college-aged students tend to focus around the high-jinks and shenanigans they get up to, that is to say - they focus around the popular groups

ok, not quite college, but you know what I mean

And so i found it really refreshing that the main characters in The Secret History were certainly not cool (not cool in the sense of going to college parties to drink and hook up kind of cool) (not cool in the Bret Easton Ellis Less Than Zero way, which reads as if it were set in the same universe as this novel (probably kind of is) but about the ‘cool’ kids and makes for interesting parallel comparison); Tartt’s characters are extremely eccentric and, like, flawed in their own personal ways - but somehow painted with such a vivid brush that you could really imagine their appearances, idiosyncrasies, and etc...

Okay, okay, maybe it is slightly elitist. But a guilty pleasure kind of elitist for me! Step back into the roaring late 80s to 90s era, when college kids got the traditional liberal education for free - and totally took it for granted! Without their phones tracking their every move, the crushing pressure to learn the latest tik tok dances and the distracting void of scrolling through memes - it was a recent history but one that has irrevocably past. Read this book to savour it! 

you don't know what you got til its gone...

[abundanceofsoph]

SkyFire 1: Chapter 12

London: January 2014 

Word count: 1.7k

SkyFire 1 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

On the 2nd of January, Aurora once again made her way back to the Golden Stag. She offered a wave of greeting to Greg behind the bar when she walked through the front door and headed over to one of the booths along the wall to wait. Her best friend, Ella, walked through the door 15 minutes later.

“Sorry I’m late,” the blonde yelled as she barrelled into the pub, a hurricane of energy as always. Aurora laughed as Ella rushed toward her and she stood just in time to catch the other girl in a hug.

“I think I’d genuinely die of shock if you ever arrived anywhere on time,” Aurora replied when they both pulled apart and sat down at the table. Greg appeared a few moments later with a coke for Ella and a sprite for Rori, the two girls too predictable for him to need their drink orders. “Thanks Greg,” Rori cheered, taking a sip of her drink.

“You’re welcome,” the older man said. “Good to see you El. What can I get you girls?”

“I’ll have the fish and chips please,” Ella ordered, while Rori nodded and gestured that she would have the same. As Greg walked away from the table the girls dove into discussion. Despite having lived in separate countries for the last 2 and a half years, they had successfully maintained their friendship, rarely going more than a day or two without messaging or calling each other. As such there wasn’t as much to catch up on since they’d last seen each other on Rori’s last visit as one would expect. Rori explained in minute detail every aspect of the AMAs, only glossing over some of her interactions with Harry, keeping most of their conversations private, while giving Ella enough details to keep her friend satisfied and sufficiently excited.

They’d mostly finished their food when Ella’s head snapped up to meet Rori’s gaze. “Shit I totally forgot that Mum told me to invite you and your dads for dinner tonight.”

“Can I get a rain check?” Rori replied, “I’ve got plans tonight.”

“What kind of plans?”

“Dinner and a games night apparently.”

“With who?”

“No one you know.”

“Are they famous?” Ella asked, “because I know that I’m the only one you stayed in contact with after you moved to the states so it’s no one from school.”

“Yeah, they’re famous,” Rori replied, scrunching up her face in response to the word.

“Enough of that, spill. Who is it?”

“You’re not allowed to freak out, Ok?”

“Ok,” Ella agreed excitedly, causing Rori to shake her head with a chuckle.

“It’s at Louis Tomlinson’s house.” The other people in the bar turned to stare at the girls as Ella squealed. “I thought I said you couldn’t freak out,” Rori chided.

“Louis fucking Tomlinson?” Ella asked in shock. “How the fuck is Louis Tomlinson inviting you to his house?”

“Actually, Harry invited me,” Aurora explained.

“Harry Styles invited you to games night at Louis Tomlinson’s house?”

“Please stop saying their full names like that,” Rori begged. “It’s weird.”

“Well I’m sorry I’m not on a first name basis with Louis Tomlinson or Harry Styles,” Ella replied. “You better start talking right now because you have been holding out on me, I thought you said you’d just been talking with Harry a little since the AMAs but know he’s inviting you to Louis house so you’ve clearly skipped some pertinent details.”

“Ok, we’ve maybe spent a bit of time together since I flew in on Sunday,” Rori admitted.

“Oh My God!” Ella gasped. “You sneak. Tell me everything. Wait is Harry who you spent New Year’s Eve with? You said you had an industry party but were you really with him?”

“First of all, it was an industry party, but yes I did go to it with Harry, but we actually caught up the day before for lunch. I swear to god you better not shriek again but he asked me to be his girlfriend.” Aurora rolled her eyes as Ella clamped her hands over her mouth to muffle her excited response. “You can’t say a word to anyone El,” Aurora said. “Please, you know what the Directioners are like. We just want to keep it out of the media for now.”

“Of course, I’ll keep it secret,” El promised. “Can I tell mum though?” She breathed a sigh of relief when the brunette nodded. “ You have to admit that this is bizarre,” Ella continued. “Imagine going back in time and telling 15 year old Rori that she’d grow up to date Harry. Omg your kids are gonna be so adorable and the wedding! The wedding will be the event of the fucking season.”

“Easy El,” Rori laughed. “We’ve been dating for 3 days, let’s not go talking about weddings and kids ok.”

“Seriously though. We went to the X Factor finale and were crying when they didn’t win and now you know them and talk to them and you’re going to their game’s night! You better introduce me at some point or you’re a terrible best friend.”

“I promise I will introduce you,” Rori told her best friend. “Just give me a month or two to get used to the idea myself. Trust me I’m just as overwhelmed by the idea as you are. I mean I’m kind of freaking out about tonight.”

“Oh, babe don’t,” Ella said. “They’ll all love you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Rori replied nervously.

They stayed at the pub for another few hours, chatting and laughing before Aurora had to leave to go back to the hotel to get ready before dinner. As they were leaving Greg popped out from behind the bar to give both girls a hug goodbye and reminding Rori that he would see her on Saturday night for her birthday dinner with himself, Helen and Rori’s dads.

xXx

Aurora let out a nervous breath as the Addison Lee pulled up outside the white expanse of Louis’ north London house. Harry was waiting on the doorstep for her, stepping forward to open her door and offered her a hand as she exited the car. He pulled her in for a tight hug as the car drove away and then kissed her briefly before pulling back to look at her.

“Hi,” he greeted, smiling brightly down at her.

“Hi,” Rori echoed with a laugh.

“Shall we?” Harry asked, gesturing to the front door in front of them. Aurora nodded, placing her hand on his offered elbow as he ushered her into the high ceilinged foyer. “Everyone’s out back,” he said as they walked down the hallway.

“Who exactly is everyone?” Aurora asked.

“Louis and his girlfriend Eleanor, Liam and his girlfriend Sophia, Zayn and Niall,” Harry listed. “We always get together after we spend Christmas with our families,” Harry explained. “We have a games night with the girlfriends and just hang out as friends before all the craziness of touring kicks off again.”

“Sounds like fun,” Rori said as the pair finally reached the back of the large house to find the previously mentioned group sat around a fire pit on the patio.

“Aurora!” Louis cheered when they came into view. “So glad you came, Love. Harrold, the UberEats delivery should be here in a minute, be a lad and go grab it for us.” Harry looked to Rori hesitantly, not wanting to abandon her immediately after arriving. “Oh, just go,” Louis continued, “I’ll introduce your girl.”

Harry turned on his heel and walked back into the house, leaving Rori to approach the circle of friends sitting around the fire pit, taking one of the two empty seats. “So everyone, this is Aurora,” Louis announced, before pointing to each person and providing Rori with their names.

“It’s so nice to meet you all,” Rori offered, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Eleanor replied, “and of course you got an invite. It’s a right of passage for anyone dating one of this idiots.”

Harry returned shortly after, his arms loaded up with pizza boxes, chicken wings and rolls of garlic bread. “Grubs up!” he announced cheerfully as he dumped everything onto the table beside the fire and then collapsed into the seat next to Rori. “They’re not given you a hard time, are they?” he asked his girlfriend.

“Not at all,” Rori said, smiling as he reached out for her hand, threading their fingers together.

The night was spent chatting, eating and drinking, as well as playing Uno, a disastrous attempt at monopoly, snap and go fish. Rori had been surprised to find the boys very easy to talk to and it took very little time for her to shake off her nerves. By the time she had been halfway through her second slice of pizza she had almost forgotten that the young men surrounding her where the same boys she had screamed at in concert years ago. Hours later, when the fire had burned down to a few embers and everyone but Rori was 4 or 5 drinks in, they sat in the near darkness talking quietly. Rori found herself talking football with Louis given that her team, AFC Wimbledon, had recently played his Doncaster Rovers in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy the previous month. The pair found themselves deep in conversation about the league tables, completely unaware of the soft look Harry was throwing their way, so happy to see his girlfriend and one of his brothers getting along so quickly and easily.

Eventually everyone started to yawn, and the night wound its way to its conclusion with cars called and everyone hugging each other goodbye. Harry walked with Aurora to the front door, waiting with her until her car arrived to take her back into the city. He held open the door for her as she climbed in and then surprised her by joining her on the backseat.

“And where do you think you’re going?” she chuckled as he leaned his head against her shoulder, his lips pressing gently against her neck.

“Not ready to call it a night,” he mumbled, his hand coming to rest on her waist. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, ever the gentleman, even if a little tipsy. Aurora nodded slightly as he mouthed his way up along her jaw, finally reaching her lips and the pair continued to make out for the entire ride to Rori’s hotel.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[micoco]

CONSUMERS FOOD WASTE

This week, I want to narrow down this board topic. I am more interested in food waste on the consumer side. There are some questions about it:

- Generally, why do people waste so much food? At the same time, the problem of hunger is so serious? 

- As consumers, where are the most food wastes happening: Restaurants? (Dining outside) At home? Food Delivery?(Ubereats, Postmates) 

- Where does the food waste go? What do they think when they know where different food wastes are going? 

- What kind of elements will affect people’s behaviors on food wastes? Eating alone or with friends and family? 

- Last post, I have found some interesting designs about changing the way we look at food. Here I want to explore why our relationship with food changes because of our senses? 

- Whether the different cultures / rituals / methods of eating in different countries will relate with food wastes? Why and How!!!!!!! 

- When people are eating outside, what kind of elements will affect them to order, leading to more or less food wastes? Such as restaurant reviews, or environments, hungry levels, looks of food, traffic time, waiting time or more. Why do the expectations would influence us about food wastes? 

The relationship with food wastes & obesity & hunger 

1.Where are the most food wastes happening  https://foodprint.org/issues/the-problem-of-food-waste/

- Restaurants and Institutions: 22-33 billions pounds of food wastes Approximately 4 to 10 percent of food purchased by restaurants is wasted before reaching the consumer According to the Cornell University Food and Brand Lab, on average, diners leave 17 percent of their meals uneaten and 55 percent of edible leftovers are left at the restaurant.

- Food wastes in households: Households are responsible for the largest portion of all food waste. ReFED estimates that US households waste 76 billion pounds of food per year. In terms of total mass, fresh fruits and vegetables account for the largest losses at the consumer level. There are some reasons to cause this issue: Food spoilage, Over-preparing, Date Label Confusion, Overbuying and Poor planning. 

- And food delivery is the third party of the restaurants and institutions. My opinion is that the food wastes are similar to them. However, the main problem of online food ordering is increasing the food plastic packaging  and tablewares wastes. 

- So from the research, we can see that food wastes in households become the most serious part of all food wastes. Combined with some research I have found before: Packaging design or kitchen wares design can help people to reduce food wastes at home, especially the fresh vegetables or fruits, or some apps can help people value the food ( buy correctly and enough food) when they are shopping in stores. 

- And people started to rely on online shopping and ordering because of efficiency and convenience, of course, the pandemic time right now. I found one article: how online ordering could cut food wastes. It is interesting. Before, I have written some people’s behaviors about shopping for food in stores to cause huge amounts of food wastes. However, ordering online: we tend to have smaller but more frequent orders. It is a way to reduce waste and to reduce the total emission of food consumed at home by about 41%. To some extent, it can help households and retailers food wastes. I have used food online ordering, which is time-saving and convenient. But, it is obvious that the price of food is higher than store prices, and also cause other problems like food packaging during delivery.  https://www.greenbiz.com/article/how-online-ordering-could-cut-food-waste

2. Where does food go? How do they deal with leftover food?

- Restaurants: 85% will be thrown out > landfill;  Separating their food wastes > Composting facilities; Some unused food > feeding livestock in farms; a small percentage will be recycled or donated. Overall, the most food wastes are in landfill, which increases the methane gas > More CO2. 

With my experiences, after dining outside, I would take away the left food. I feel less guilty than wasting them. Then, on the next day, I may eat them or throw them away. Www. Same fate. 

- Households: Today the governments in some countries have regulations that people need to do garbage sorting before dumping them. I have known that China has become more serious about this. Most food wastes are going to  landfills or become fertilizers during garbage disposal. And some of them can be recycled. 

- And I feel most people have an idea of this question. Most of them do not care where the food wastes actually goes and the results of them because they did not see the facts. Also the prices of most food is invaluable, they do not care more about them because they are cheap. 

3. Different behaviors / experiences related to food wastes 

- Eating alone can be the biggest cause for unhappiness. “The Hartman Group’s Food & Beverage Occasions Compass 2014 data” shows 46% of all adult eating occasions are alone. Eating alone is detrimental to our health. I have some experiences of eating alone. I went to the restaurants and wanted to order some food. And the size of food is so big. Most of the time, I cannot eat all of them and need to take out leftover food. Especially the fast food industry, they hope you eat alone. Can you imagine that, sitting alone in front of the Elemis ion and shoveling food into the mouth, and you still feel hungry after eating all of them. I think it can be a normal scene right now. > Causing more food wastes and obesity. Both mentally and physically, we changed the relationship with food > Definitely cause the food wastes issues in today’s society. Like I talked before, the people who have eating disorders, they vomit the food and eat too much food. 

- However, eating with friends and families also causes food wastes. 1. I think this situation, people will order a lot…….Yes. From my experiences. 2. I think it happened more in western countries, rather than in China. Like Costco, Ralphs, Sam’s, there are more family size food products I have even seen before…and a lot of sales promotion on larger size vegetables or fruits. OMG I do not know whether people will eat all of them…..

Overall, I don’t know. I think both ways will cause food wastes. Maybe eating alone is focusing more on mental health. Another one is causing more food wastes. 

- Healthy lifestyles. I think most people want to have a healthy lifestyle. However, the research shows that “healthy eaters cause more food wastes?!?!?” Having healthy diets needs more vegetables and fruits, which are easy to spoil. It is easy to notice that high-income households have healthier diets and more food wastes, rather than low-income families. That is a contradictory issue…..

So it is just one of the elements that will affect people to buy the food > food wastes. Others: Economic level: incomes, times; Different personalities, attitudes, emotions, conditioning; Lifestyles, social class. They affect customers’ demand on food and food choices, tastes and preferences. All of them related with food wastes. 

3. Different cultures / rituals / educations: Most food wastes occur in the developed world. Food wastes cannot be separated from people’s eating habits and cultures. Shoe some examples below: 

- Sweden: According to Hans Naess, a Swedish food entrepreneur, Sweden's food culture has its origins in poverty and climate."For a long time, we were a very poor country, so in a very strong conservative way we have to eat everything up, and in the culture it's very ugly to throw away food." 

- In developing nations, there are gaping holes in the supply chains > larger food lost. And in the developed nations, most people have enough purchasing power to buy food / They do not like “ugly food” in stores > more food wastes / loss in households. 

- South Africa, like Brazil and Malawi, is a developing country with a lot of challenges such as food insecurity. They have wasted so much food, at the same time, there are so many people who are bearing the hunger. Ex:there is a phenomenon known as Izikhotane, which is a group of youngsters who show off their wealth by destroying expensive clothes and food.

MORE>>

4. Dining outside - Expectation of food / food experiences > food wastes 

- Q: Some Michelin restaurants serve less and delicate, but so expansive food. Do they cause less food wastes? And they would focus more on food wastes and recycling problems? Different thoughts on consumers: do they think it is a waste of money? Do they think the food is worthy? 

- The research “ Impact of plate size on food waste: Agent-based simulation of food consumption” explained some elements of affecting food wastes when people are dining outside. 

- Plate sizes. The result is: Switching from a large to a medium plate and a small plate decreases the number of not-eaten food items by 21.1% and 43.5% om average respectively. Switching from medium to small: decreases 28.4% on average between two scenarios. There are some elements that will affect people who choose different plate sizes:  food-surplus, plate-waste, unsatisfied-hunger, overtime, wait-time, high traffic, walk-out. 

- Biological determinants such as hunger, appetite, and taste / Economic determinants such as cost, income, availability / Social determinants such as culture, family, peers and meal patterns / Psychological determinants such as mood, stress and guilt / Attitudes, beliefs and knowledge about food

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME! :)