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stylesloveclub · 1 year

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Thumper

In which y/n is pretty sure her neighbor hates her, and Harry needs someone to take care of his bunny.

+++

For y/n, the month of December was truly the best part of the year.

She absolutely loved getting into the holiday spirit: whether that meant hanging multi-colored fairy lights around her bed frame, baking snowman shaped cookies for her friends and family, or busting out her reindeer printed fuzzy socks – she loved it all.

And, more importantly, she loved getting three weeks off from school. Winter break meant the end of finals week, which meant no more flashcards waiting to be memorized or textbooks waiting to be annotated. Just pure holiday bliss and seasonal joy.

The only part of the holiday season that y/n wasn’t particularly fond of was New Years.

While many considered the new year to be a “new beginning,” y/n only really thought of it as the official end to her holiday joy. She never really indulged in the thought of new year’s resolutions – in fact, she found them to be quite silly. Why on Earth would someone create a half-hearted promise to themselves, knowing very well that they would give up on their goal one month into the new year? It seemed like a far too disappointing cycle for her.

But this year… this year was different.

The ending of this year also meant that the lease on her current apartment was ending. Now, don’t get her wrong! Y/n doesn’t hate her roommates or anything. She’s actually incredibly close with the three girls that she’d spent the last two years living with, and considers them to be some of her closest friends.

But, as the months went by, y/n realized that a two bedroom, one bathroom flat was far too small for four girls to peacefully coexist in. They were always nagging each other to clean the dishes, fighting over who gets to shower first in their tiny bathroom. And honestly… she was getting really tired of listening to Nia (a business major) rehearse presentations at 3 AM.

So, when y/n timidly mentioned that she was thinking about moving out, the three other girls agreed that their living situation wasn’t the most ideal, promised that they would still remain besties even if they didn’t live with each other, and began to search for their own places so that they could turn in their keys at the end of the year.

For the first time in her life, y/n had a place of her own. And that was honestly the best thing the new year could’ve brought for her.

+++

It’s safe to say that the first morning y/n wakes up in her new apartment is undoubtedly one the most euphoric moments she’s ever experienced.

The window facing her bed allows for the morning sun to light up her room, slowly rousing her from her slumber. She blinks her eyes open, and it takes a moment for her to fully recognize that: no, she’s not dreaming and yes, she’s actually in her new apartment!

She sits up and stretches, flexing her muscles and twisting her back until she hears the delicious sound of her spine cracking – a sign that she’d slept through the night like a baby. Glancing out the window, she notices a little bluebird perched on her balcony’s railing.

Yes, a balcony!

It had actually been one of the main reasons she chose this apartment building. Although it was a rather small balcony, she immediately fell in love with it. The railings were twisted and had a rustic look that reminded her of the balcony Juliet would stand on in a Shakespearian play, and it overlooked a beautiful cobblestone street. When she first saw the balcony during the apartment tour, she immediately envisioned herself spending her mornings out here with a nice cup of tea, maybe doing her assigned readings out in the fresh air. There was just enough room for y/n to make a cozy little nook for herself, with fairy lights strung around railings and fluffy pillows piled on loveseats for her to chill out on.

She scrambles out of her bed and rushes over to the window, smudging the glass with her fingertips as her palms press flat against it. The glass is ice cold to the touch and fogs up around her nose, a sign of how cold the morning air outside must be. Dressed in a pair of flowery sleep shorts and a sweatshirt with her university’s logo embroidered on the front, she’s hardly dressed appropriately – but she slides the glass door open anyway and steps out onto the balcony. She can’t help it, she’s just so excited!

As soon as she slides the door open, the chilly air invades her senses, her lungs burning and legs prickling with goosebumps. She leans her forearms on the railing and looks at the street below, empty of any cars or people. Directly across the street from her building, she sees a small antique store, and right next to that, a cute little cafe with cartoonish snowflakes painted onto the glass windows. Dozens of other restaurants and boutiques line the street, not yet open but anticipating the rush of people that would most likely flood in within the next few hours. y/n makes a mental note to herself to text her ex-roommates and invite them to visit the coffee shop she currently had her eye on.

Yeah, maybe it was a little cold, and maybe there’s nowhere to sit, but honestly, all y/n could think about was how much she loved her brand new balcony in her brand new apartment.

Life couldn’t get any better than this.

+++

Harry isn't too big on New Year’s resolutions.

You see, he’s not fond of forcing himself to do things (the more pressure he has on himself to finish something, the less he wants to do it), and he really doesn’t like dealing with the inevitable end of year disappointment that comes with not finishing what he starts. He knows the chances of him actually going through with his resolutions are quite slim, so he doesn’t find a point in establishing any.

Therefore, he really only has one goal for the upcoming year. Don’t let Thumper die.

Thumper is the love of Harry’s life. When Harry realized just how lonely living alone could get, he decided he needed a companion to love and care for. He had the fullest intentions of going to his local adoption center and befriending a little kitty like Evie (his cat back home) so that the two cats could get along when he visited his family. But, when he stepped into the adoption center and saw Thumper, tiny and frail compared to most bunnies his age, he knew he had found his new best friend.

So really, Harry’s only “resolution” is something he knows he wouldn’t be giving up on any time soon.

As he brews himself a steaming vanilla latte (with a shot of caramel cream on top), he gives Thumper a little bit of food, petting at the bunny’s furry cheeks as he nibbles some hay from his fingers. When he turns away momentarily to pour his brewed coffee into a mug, the rabbit proceeds to thump its clunky hind feet (hence the name), begging to be the center of Harry’s attention once again.

Obviously, Harry could never ignore his bunny’s pleas for love – so he quickly picks up his mug in one hand, and, similar to the way a mother holds their newborn baby, coddles Thumper to his chest with the other. Thumper tends to get uneasy when he’s high up from the ground, usually thumping against Harry’s forearms to display his displeasure, so Harry always makes sure he’s sitting or lying down when cuddling with his bunny. Taking a seat on his pink sofa, he turns the TV on to a random news channel and gently runs his hand up and down Thumper’s back, cooing every time the fluffy bunny twitches his tiny nose with approval.

Once Thumper is happily settled and Harry’s finished with his coffee, he places Thumper back into his comfy den and puts his dirty mug in the sink. Grabbing the watering can from right underneath, he fills the can until he has a suitable amount of water for the flowers he grows on his balcony.

Whistling along to a happy tune (“Whistle While You Work” from Snow White), he steps onto the balcony and takes a deep lung-full of the pristine air. The sky was serene, the morning dew was fresh on the railing, and everything was at peace.

That is, until an unrecognizable voice far too energetic for the tranquil calm of the morning startles him.

“Hi!”

Harry drops the watering can out of surprise and whirls around, yelping out a “bloody hell!” before his eyes land on a stranger.

“Who are you?” he grumbles, putting a hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart, thumping hard from the scare.

The girl’s eyes widen, clearly not having expected to get such a reaction from her neighbor, and she carefully introduces herself, much quieter than the initial greeting she’d just given him. “Umm, I’m y/n. I just moved in.” She flashes him an apologetic smile, “Sorry for scaring you, wasn’t my intention.”

Harry looks down to assess the damage his startle caused. His watering can is on its side, laying in a puddle and steadily leaking out water, while his sock-covered feet are soaked through (one his biggest pet peeves are wet socks).

Looking back up to the girl, he sees her nervously chewing on her lip and fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. She seems more scared of him than he had been of her, and very timidly makes eye contact with him, praying that he wouldn’t explode on her.

Harry saves his breath.

“That’s alright,” he responds as nicely as he can muster up (wet socks = grumpy Harry), picking up the watering can from the floor. He runs into his apartment, slipping on a new, dry pair of socks, refilling the watering can, and grabbing a towel to clean up his balcony.

Y/n still has her brows furrowed in distress when he comes back outside, quickly confessing, “I really am sorry… I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was just excited to meet my new neighbor, I guess.”

He doesn’t make eye contact with her when he says, “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s okay. No need to fret,” focusing his attention, instead, on making sure the floors are dry.

“I just moved in yesterday you know! I dunno if you saw all the boxes n’ stuff, but that was me!” Christ, was she still there? He thought she would’ve gone back inside after he gave so little attention to her.

Again, he barely looks in her direction when he responds, “I hadn’t noticed anyone was moving in.” His answer is short, clipped, and uninterested.

The girl carries on the conversation, “Yeah, I’m super excited about moving in and everything! It’s my first time living without anyone and it’s just so nice to have all this space to myself– y’know I made some cookies last night, and I was gonna bring ‘em over later today to introduce myself but since we already met I could totally bring them over–”

Harry cuts her off right there. “Don’t put yourself through the trouble,” he says tersely, sparing her one final glance before walking back into his apartment.

He holds eye contact with her as he slides the balcony door shut.

+++

Y/n’s positive she’s made her neighbor hate her.

She’s drinking coffee with her ex-roommates, Sameera, Savanna, and Nia, at the coffee shop she saw earlier that morning from her balcony window, explaining her conundrum.

“I just don’t know what to do! I didn’t do anything to make him hate me. I mean, except for balcony thing, but obviously I didn’t mean to scare him! He wouldn’t even look at me!”

She tried to make things up to him, greeting him calmly on the balcony the next time they were out there at the same time, but only managed to get the grimest acknowledgement from him. He avoided eye contact with her whenever they passed each other in the hallways, would shut his door if he ever saw her coming out at the same time as him, and would stay silent if they ever got caught in the elevator together.

He hates her, she’s sure of it.

At this point, she’s honestly just given up, opting to just sit with her mug and book silently when he watered his plants on the balcony each morning. Far better than the hurt she’d feel when he’d inevitably ignore her if she tried to make small talk again.

“Maybe he’s got a fragile sense of masculinity and is embarrassed that he got scared by a girl,” Nia says, taking a bite of her croissant, “so now he can’t face you anymore.”

Sameera adds on to that, “Or he’s intimidated by you. Is he ugly? Ugly guys tend to be intimidated by pretty girls.”

Y/n is quick to deny this with a furrow in her brows. “Oh, but he’s not! He was really cute,” she pouts. Considering his reluctance to make eye contact with her during their short conversation, y/n had plenty of time to unabashedly admire her next door neighbor. He had chocolate brown hair, swept atop his head in messy waves and bright green eyes that glimmered in the dreary, gray morning weather. And though he had an intimidating demeanor, with his short attitude and furrowed brows, the fact that he was wrapped up in a fuzzy, lavender sweatshirt made him ever so endearing to her.

Call her crazy, but she has a bit of a crush.

“What’s his name?” asks Savanna, chiming into the conversation for the first time.

Y/n has to think for a moment before she responds. “I don’t think he even told me! I just said hey and he walked away from me!” She sits back and crosses her arms, huffing sadly, “Maybe this is a sign from the universe that I should just stay away from boys in general.”

“Don’t say that!” Savanna defends, “You’re beautiful and a total sweetheart. Nia’s right, he probably just has a bruised ego for now. Just be yourself and I’m sure he’ll come around.”

+++

Being herself doesn’t work.

Yesterday, when she’d clearly been running with all of her groceries to catch the elevator, he made direct eye contact with her as the doors shut. Made no effort to hold the elevator for her. Just watched her struggle with her groceries as the elevators closed.

Y/n accepts the fact that he’s probably not going to come around.

+++

It’s 10 PM on a Tuesday night when someone comes frantically knocking on y/n’s door.

She’d just been painting in her living room (a casual hobby of hers), dressed in a pair of dark blue, denim overalls splattered with paint, when out of nowhere someone was at her door, knocking as if they were in a life or death situation.

She has no idea who it could be, and is honestly a bit frightened considering this person is pounding on her door so violently, but she hurries over to the door. Peeking out of the peephole, she’s met with a very familiar furrowed brow.

It’s Harry, her next door neighbor. Except, for the first time, he looks more stressed than angry.

She opens the door, a bit embarrassed in her messy painting overalls. She chews on her lip and she stands nervously behind her door, almost as if she’s using it to protect herself. “Hi?” she says timidly, worried about why he might be at her door. Had she done something to make him angry? Was her music too loud or something?

His hair, normally curled atop his head neatly in chocolate colored swirls, now sticks out in every direction as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly, and his eyes are wide and frantic. “My sister…” he pants, out of breath as if he’d run a mile to get here, “She’s in labor. I-I have to go to see her, could you–,” he pauses to catch his breath, chest rising heavily. “Could you please take care of my bunny while I’m gone?”

She blinks for a second. This man, who’d been so cold and mean to her ever since she moved in, was in front of her door… begging her to take care of his bunny?

“Oh!” This was definitely not what she expected when she opened the door and saw Harry standing there. She thought that he was for sure about to yell at her for something, tell her to turn the music down or blow out her candles because he could smell them from his apartment.

This, however… this she could work with. Maybe it would make him finally come around.

“Yes!” she exclaims, after a second. “Oh my gosh, yes, of course! What do you need me to do?”

His shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, letting out a deep breath. He knows that he hasn’t necessarily been the nicest to her and had been worried that she might tell him to fuck off (rightfully so), but he was desperate, and thankfully… she’s an angel.

He ushers her into his apartment, which (as respectfully as she can put it) looks like a tornado has just passed through it. A pile of unopened mail sits on his kitchen counter, abandoned in his rush to get packed, and what seems to be his dinner sits half eaten on his dinner table, fork thrown onto the table next to his plate with a piece of broccoli still hanging onto it. A lone suitcase sits in the middle of his living room, piled with clothes that aren’t folded – just haphazardly thrown in there. It’s abundantly clear that he’s been frantically rushing around his apartment, trying to pack all his stuff together while also figuring out what to do with Thumper.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes over his shoulder, double checking that she’s still within earshot with how fast he’s running around into his apartment. “I-I wasn’t planning on having to go see her so soon, she’s not due for another three weeks,” he rambles, messily shoving a pant leg into his suitcase as he zips it up. “But then she called, and she’s all alone, and–” he looks up at her with wide, earnest eyes, “I just have to be there for her.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” she says gently. “I totally get it. It’s no problem.”

He stares at her for a second, eyes flickering between hers, a soft look in his eye. It seems like he’s about to say something– but he stops himself. Instead, he walks over to a large bunny playpen, filled with hay and piles of soft blankets and towels.

Sitting atop one of those worn-out blankets is a fluffy white bunny, nibbling softly on a piece of hay. Harry reaches in and gently picks the little bunny up, who fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. “This is Thumper,” Harry introduces softly, his finger gently petting along the little bunny’s back. “Thumper, this is y/n. She’s gonna take care of you while I'm gone.” The little bunny’s nose twitches softly, chewing on his hay mindlessly.

Y/n doesn’t know what she expected from Harry, but it definitely wasn’t this. From all of her interactions with him, he just seemed so cold and mean and intimidating! But watching him pet his little bunny that sits so peacefully in his large, tattooed hands… hearing him talk to this tiny ball of white fur as if it’s a real person… well it just makes Harry look like a bit of a softie, to be honest. It’s a side of her grumpy neighbor that she never could’ve imagined.

“Hi Thumper,” she coos, taking a timid step forward. “You’re just the cutest thing in the world.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Harry says proudly, a soft dimple in his cheek as he smiles down at his bunny that he loves so much.

Passing Thumper over to her, he maneuvers her hands so that the bunny is resting comfortably. “He likes to be held like this,” he instructs, his hands brushing against hers, “On his stomach, so he can look around. Sometimes he gets a bit nervous when he’s too high up from the ground for a long time, so if he starts thumping that just means he wants to be put down again.”

She nods, copying the way he’d been holding Thumper to the best of her ability. The bunny feels so small and fragile in her hold and she’s terrified of hurting him – but Thumper just twitches his nose gently, completely unaffected by whatever is going on around him.

“This is where he sleeps and spends most of his time,” Harry continues, pointing down at the little den of blankets. “But if you can, try to take him outside for at least an hour everyday. I made the balcony bunny proof and there’s a little grassy area out there with all his toys, so just let him hop around there for a bit. Maybe hang out with him if you can, he’s really playful. It’s just really important for his health, to be outside and have some playtime.”

He puts his hands on his hips and stares at his bunny, who seems totally content in y/n’s arms. A weight is lifted off his shoulders, seeing that Thumper feels comfortable in the arms of this half-stranger. It makes him feel a little less guilty for having to leave him so suddenly.

Harry checks the clock. “Shit!” he cries, gathering his bearings once more. His sister lives almost two hours away, so he needs to leave now.

She follows him, Thumper still in his arms, as he scrambles towards the kitchen. “This is his food,” he says, pulling out a bag of leafy, green vegetables – a nice mix of lettuce, kale, cabbage, and parsley – from his fridge. “Give him a bowlful of these veggies twice a day. He’s not on a really strict schedule, just give him some whenever you have breakfast and dinner. And you saw, he has a bunch of hay in his cage too, which he snacks on all day, so it’s okay if you’re a little late.”

He’s running around his apartment, grabbing things and shoving them into his suitcase at the last minute, and calling out instructions to y/n as fast as he can – frantic, stressed out, with absolutely no time to waste. Y/n watches him with wide eyes, absorbing everything he says, while Thumper sits in her arms quietly completely unbothered by Harry’s frantic bustling.

“Um, if he’s being annoying or thumping or anything like that, give him a treat – they’re in this jar – and he’ll probably calm down. I’m pretty generous with the treats ‘cos he’s just such a good bunny, but also he needs to watch his diet, so I’d limit him to like… 10-12 pellets per day.”

He runs to the living room and picks up his suitcase, dragging it to the door frantically while still spewing out instructions. “He loves cuddling, and he’s a really good bunny so you can leave him on the couch or on my bed and he won’t like– chew anything up. And if it gets really cold at night he has a heating pad in his playpen, just put it in the microwave for a minute or two, and he’ll get on top of it if he wants.”

“Here’s my number if you need anything,” he says, scribbling down his phone number onto one of the abandoned pieces of mail sitting on his kitchen counter. “That’s a three, I know it doesn’t look like it, sorry!” He slams the pen down on the counter and runs into his bedroom, then hurries back out with a backpack, filled to the brim with all his toiletries and other essentials. What seems to be his phone charger hangs out of the front pocket, just about ready to pop out and fall to the ground, but he shoves it in and somehow manages to zip up the overstuffed bag.

“Okay,” he sighs, letting out a deep breath. Now that he’s all packed up and ready to go, he lets himself slow down for a second. He takes a look around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, then turns around to face y/n. Thumper looks up at Harry with his cute little eyes.

“Alright bud, I gotta go,” he whispers quietly, petting the bunny’s cheeks. “Be good, okay?” He leans forward and presses a little kiss against Thumper’s forehead, his cheek brushing against y/n’s arm, who still has Thumper coddled to her chest.

“I should be back soon,” he says to y/n, looking at her with gentle eyes. “Thank you again, for taking care of him. I know it’s all last minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a smile.

Harry smiles back at her softly. The first time she’s ever seen him look at her with a smile. It makes her heart flutter happily, one step closer to making her neighbor stop hating her.

“Here’s the key to my apartment. I… I’ve got to go now. But text me if anything happens.”

With a final deep breath and a pat on Thumper’s head, Harry heads out the door and runs to the elevator.

And then it’s just y/n and Thumper, alone in Harry’s apartment.

Who would’ve thought.

+++

Y/n doesn’t really have much experience with bunnies… but she imagines that if she were a bunny and her bunny Dad randomly left her with a stranger in the middle of the night, then she’d be a pretty stressed out bunny.

Luckily, Thumper seems pretty relaxed.

After Harry left, she just put him back into his playpen and watched him chew on some hay and relax on his comfy pile of blankets. She warmed up his heating pad, just as Harry instructed, but Thumper didn’t even need it. He just headed to bed like a good little bunny and went through the night peacefully, with only the occasional twitch of his nose and a little scuffle as if he were having a rabbit dream.

Just to be safe, y/n spent the night on Harry’s couch, sleeping right next to Thumper’s little pen just in case he started thumping in the middle of the night and needed some attention. In the morning, she scuttled back to her apartment to make herself a quick breakfast, then hurried back to give Thumper his morning veggies. And in the time that she’d normally spend reading on her own balcony, she instead went out onto Harry’s balcony and watched as Thumper happily hopped around in the grass and played with his little bunny toys.

She runs into very little problems while bunny-sitting for Harry, and actually finds herself particularly fond of this fluffy little creature. But she wonders, even if she has no questions for Harry, should she still send him a text? He left her his number in case she had any questions, but he’d probably wouldn’t mind an update text either? I mean… if she were a Bunny Dad and she had to randomly leave her bunny in the middle of the night, then she’d probably want to know that her bunny was safe and happy!

After much overthinking and lots of nervous pacing around Harry’s kitchen, she decides to send him a text. A simple, “Hi, it’s y/n!” accompanied with a cute picture of Thumper, chomping on some lettuce with his floppy ears hanging cutely and his big eyes glimmering. She then follows it with another text, saying that they just ate some breakfast together and went out on the balcony for some morning playtime.

She throws her phone down after she sends the text, beyond nervous to be sending messages to the grumpy neighbor that had scared her for so long. She jumps when her phone chimes with a message less than a minute later, apologizing to Thumper who gives an annoyed thump, as if he’s telling her to stop being so dramatic.

“How’s he behaving?” reads Harry’s response.

“Like an angel!” she says. “Slept through the night without any thumping and had lots of fun playing in the grass.”

“Good,” he texts back, and she thinks that’s the end of it. But after a minute another message comes through. “Give him an extra treat from me, he deserves it :)”

A smiley face! Who knew grumpy Harry knew how to use smiley faces.

She sends back a picture of Thumper with his treat. And a smiley face for good measure.

+++

Harry comes back home five days later.

He’d managed to make it to the hospital just in time. His sister had been in active labor on her own for about four hours at that point, and spent another four hours in excruciating pain once Harry got there. His mum arrived around 45 minutes after he did, and Miles (his sister’s husband, aka the father of this child), arrived last, only about 30 minutes before she was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.

All of them had scrambled to make it there on time, considering how unexpected and early his sister went into labor. He’s just thankful that Miles and his Mum were there too, so that he wouldn’t have to be the one holding her hand while she pushed (as supportive as he wanted to be, he had to leave the room or else he would’ve passed out).

The baby did come a bit early, but after a few tests the doctors said that she was fine, just a bit smaller than usual! They spent the night in the hospital, just to be safe, and were discharged to go home as a happy little family the next morning.

Harry and his mum stayed with Gemma and Miles in their cozy little for a few days, helping around the house while the new parents rested and recovered. Harry helped with the finishing touches of the nursery and went out shopping for extra diapers and baby toys, while his mom cooked homey meals for her kids and tutted over her new granddaughter.

It was nice for them to be all together again, celebrating the newest addition to their happy family, but after a few days the guilt of being away from Thumper for so long was growing too heavy. His mum promised to stay with Gemma and make sure that she’s recovering well, and with a kiss to his newborn baby niece, he headed back home to his precious baby bunny.

He unlocks his door, dragging his suitcase in behind him, and faintly hears a soft, sweet voice from inside. He abandons his suitcase and tiptoes closer and closer to the voice. He finds y/n, out on his balcony with Thumper.

“You are so cute!” she says to Thumper, sitting on her knees and rolling a little ball towards him, which Thumper nudges back with his nose. “I wish I could give you another treat, but your Dad said not to give you too many… I dunno though, should we break the rules a little bit? One extra treat since you’re being such a good bunny?”

Thumper’s nose twitches excitedly, as if he knows that she’s about to reward him with another treat, and Harry’s heart flutters in his chest. This scene – y/n, talking to his little bunny as if he’s a real person, coddling him and giving him treats – it’s a bit endearing. He tries to stop the soft smile growing on his face, to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his tummy… but he can’t help it. He’s endeared.

He tries to casually lean against his couch and watch the scene for a few more moments, but he accidentally knocks a pen off of his coffee table, making y/n yelp and turn around. “Oh!” she bubbles, “Hi Harry!”

He straightens himself out and clears his throat, wiping the silly smile off his face and trying to come off as neutral as possible. “Hello,” he says, with a polite nod of his head.

“How was your sister? Did you have a nice trip?” “Y-yeah it was good, thanks,” he twists his hands nervously behind his back. “She had a little baby girl. Healthy and happy. It was really nice.”

Y/n’s eyes round out, a soft glimmer in them. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that.”

He ignores the fluttering in his stomach, and wipes away the nervous sweat of his hands onto his pants. “Um– How was Thumper?”

“A right angel!” she exclaims, picking Thumper up and handing him over to Harry. “Wish I could steal him from you. If you ever need me to watch him again, don’t be afraid to ask, I loved hanging out with him.”

Harry can’t help the dimple that pops out on his cheek, blushing slightly at her kind words and pretty smile. “I– Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

“No worries, honestly! Just don’t be a stranger,” she says, a playful glimmer in her eye.

+++

The next morning, sitting on her balcony with her mug in hand, she watches anxiously as Harry steps out of his apartment with his watering can.

Would things go back to normal, with him ignoring her and hating her and pretending she doesn’t exist? Or… has he finally come around?

She holds her breath as he slides his balcony open. He looks at her. She looks at him.

He breaks a smile. “Good morning,” he says, dimple in cheek.

She exhales.

“Good morning, Harry,” she responds with a grin.

+++

Y/n hates thunderstorms.

She hates the sound of thunder, hates how loud and unexpected it is. Hates how her entire body trembles when thunder crashes outside her window, hates how she can feel it shake her apartment. And lightning… don’t even get her started on lightning! She has a recurring nightmare that she’s sound asleep, only to be woken up by electrocution ‘cos the lightning bolt decided her bed was the perfect place to land.

Now, when she lived in her old apartment, she was lucky enough to have amazing roommates who would comfort her during really bad storms. She could sit and talk with Sameera until the storm passed, watch a movie with Savanna to block out the sounds of thunder. Sometimes, if the storm was really bad, Nia would even cuddle y/n to sleep so that she’d calm down. Y/n would bury herself in her roommate’s loving arms, hiding her face in Nia’s chest as she willed away the anxiety attacks and tried not to cry every time she felt the rumbling thunder outside.

Now that she lives on her own, however, she has nobody to comfort her.

She thought it’d be fine, told herself that she’s far too grown to still be hiding in her closet whenever it rained a little bit outside! So she climbed into her bed, snuggled herself under her blankets, and turned on a movie, ignoring the storm outside to the best of her ability. With her pretty fairy lights turned on, her favorite movie playing (Pride and Prejudice 2005), and her headphones blocking out all the thunder, she was 100% confident that she’d be able to get through the night all on her own!

That is… until the power went out.

Her movie paused, her heater went silent, and her fairy lights suddenly turned off. She tried to turn on the main light in her room, but the light switch flicked on and off with no effect. Same with her desk lamp, and the light in her bathroom. Everything was pitch black.

Sitting in the dark, with only flashes of lightning to illuminate her room… it was terrifying for y/n.

She scrambled to turn on the flashlight on her phone, and felt her heart drop when she saw that she was only at 9%. How was she going to survive the night without her phone? She rushes around, trying to see if she has any extra flashlights or candles… but her emergency flashlight has no batteries, and although she has a wide variety of candles to choose from… she has no matches in her new apartment.

She’s thoroughly fucked.

A bolt of lightning strikes outside, followed by a crash of thunder that makes y/n yelp and fall to the floor. She’s on the verge of tears, with nowhere to turn and nothing to comfort her… when she gets a text.

Harry: Everything alright in your apartment?

Her hands tremble as she types out a response.

Not really :( she responds. trying to find a flashlight or something but im having no luck and my phones gonna die soon :(

Another rumble of thunder shakes her apartment. She closes her eyes and tries to regulate her breathing with shaky inhales and whimpery exhales.

Harry responds a minute later.

Do you want to come over to mine?

+++

PART 2 IS ALREADY POSTED ON PATREON :) HOPE U LOVE EM!!!!

#harry styles fic #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry writing #harry blurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shots #harry one shot #grumpy!harry #mean!harry #meanrry #grumpyrry

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theladyismyshepard · 5 months

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Oath Breaker

Now this one is just me letting my love for the Paladin run wild and I can't get over the thought of throwing it all away for that special one that they love. Funnily enough, my first playthrough was Druid! If you reblog, tag what your first class was/will be

(How the party reacts to you, a Paladin, breaking your Oath for them)

Shadowheart –

You were born… well, you couldn’t really say where, as you hadn’t the faintest clue. You were an orphan living the life as an urchin in the Lower City streets of Baldur’s Gate, that much you were sure of. With your natural charisma and having a knack for persuasion, things could have turned out worse. That isn’t to say you aren’t a survivor, you might have called upon your sleight of hand once or twice. But there was something about you… You were an optimist. You drew people in with your personality, and before you knew it, you had your own makeshift family that you chose to be a part of.

You were always aware of the ones who were having it worse than yourself, you couldn’t help it, it was almost like a reflex. There were the inexperienced, the frailer, the innocent… Some would say you were softhearted, caring entirely too much about everyone else’s well being rather than your own, and honestly? You felt no need to deny or explain yourself. Not when your bleeding heart was content to surround itself with those needing your guidance. It was so nice to feel needed wasn’t it?

Until the joy was stripped when you found yourself losing it all, and the worst part was that you tried your hardest, gave everything you had, and it still wasn’t enough. You weren't enough. It was a day that started as any other would, though at some point you and your friends found yourselves in the sewers underneath the city. It was no grand battle, there were no honorable deeds… It was a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was a gang of rotten people that just wouldn’t accept your presence, yet refused to let you leave. One by one your comrades fell… You were the fighter, the protector here, not them… so why were you the only one left alive? It was a “lucky coincidence” that the scuffle was noisy enough to attract attention, though those were never your words.

You felt shame. The people you had come to care about, who looked up to you, had fallen at your feet and you could do nothing. You had all the courage in the world, all the compassion… One could argue that that might be the reason you lived, that maybe you were destined for something greater… You couldn’t see any reason past the survivor’s guilt. No one could convince you otherwise… at least not until the god Helm spoke directly to you one day when you were at your lowest, ready to give up your optimism

"Following the ideal of the knight in shining armour, you will act with honour and virtue to protect the weak and pursue the greater good.” You could feel the power that Helm was offering you, and it was too alluring – it was the power that you desperately needed to make a difference, to ward off the evil, to actually be able to protect.

It was an Oath that you lived by day in and day out. You grabbed outstretched hand after outstretched hand, offering your help to anyone and everyone in need, whether it be an extra blade in an unjust altercation, or a measly passing of judgment between two quarreling neighbors. What was once a reflex to help people was now an unsatiated devotion, an incessant demand. You had no purpose if there was no one to help. Your duty guided you straight to the nautiloid, and as your party grew bigger, you started to see that there might have been a reason for that. Was it to make amends for your last group of friends? Because the thought made you sick to your stomach… What if you failed just as you did last time?

You wouldn’t… As you gazed upon the crease between Shadowheart’s brow as she fretted over losing her own faith for your cause, for you, you decided that this woman right here was what you were living for. Not to protect the world from itself, not to solve every problem thrown your way, not to blindly follow an Oath, but to worship a cleric who had no one to worship herself. You would make her happy, even if that finally entailed the end of you.

She had the opportunity to have her parents back, and of course there was always a cruel catch involved. It was unfair, and while it teetered on the edge of blasphemous (you could feel it burning in your veins, Helm himself warning you off) you found yourself standing between Shadowheart and Shar’s massive form, needing to pass judgment, to intervene against this… this evil. The ultimatum of Shadowheart’s parents or the curse paining her hand was unethical, it was treacherous. It was also not your war to wage, and that was a direct message from Helm.

What could you possibly do? The only thing you’ve ever been good at was a good starting point. You lived by your Oath and you would die by it… and by betraying it all at once. You couldn’t help but to turn back and look at Shadowheart, she was all you ever had eyes for, and realization flickered across her eyes as she registered what you were trying to convey. You could see the fight building, her refusal on the tip of her tongue, but you beat her to it.

“Take me or fight me,” it was a demand met with incredulous laughter, but the fact you weren’t reduced to ashes on the spot relayed curiosity on her part, “Accept me in return for Shadowheart’s parents and the curse wounding her… I can’t accept a no,”

“How bold, paladin,” it was dripping with sarcastic disdain, “Not only will I take your Oath, but I’ll take your life and I’ll relish in the misery it brings your dear, heart… I can feel her agonizing heartbreak as we speak. This little display was delicious, and I thank you for that… If you both can satisfy me, I just might consider myself generous.”

You’re hardly aware of what comes next, not the raise of Shar’s hand, her magic visibly building, not the frantic pulling of Shadowheart’s hand on your arm, not when there was a growing emptiness swelling in your chest, threatening to bring you to your knees as you gasped on strangled breaths. Helm’s spirit of guidance left you behind to flounder in your mistake. You were no paladin of his, but you would be an Oath breaker for Shadowheart tenfold. But once was enough, and you’ll never stop paying for it.

Lae'zel –

You were born in a modest town outside of Wyrm’s Crossing and Rivingston, just far enough to prove ideal in terms of privacy without complete isolation. A town of basic essential– a town where everyone had their function. There was the blacksmith and her wife, the harvester and his family, the carpenter along with his wife and their gaggle of sons following in the trade, the medicinal/healer woman and her two children… what you lacked were soldiers

It was an easy slaughter with hardly anything to even pillage, but what the raiders lacked in treasures, they took in captives. That included you. It wasn’t long before you’ve come to decide that killing you would have been a mercy, and even more immediate was your swelling resentment and thirst for vengeance. It would be years of praying for the strength to fight this oppression before the patron god Ilmater heard your pleas, and came to you with a contract, an Oath… “You will set aside even your own purity to right wrongs and deliver justice to those who have committed the most grievous sins.”

The entire enslavement stronghold fell by your hand, and your hand alone. It was your right to pass this judgment, and it was your duty to carry out justice with no mercy for your wicked captors. And so was your entire moral code as you traveled far and wide, seeking out evil and persecution and the vengeance that draws with it, calling you here and there until the very day you found yourself infected and surrounded by a mismatched group of people that you’ve come to care for.

A particular githyanki had caught your interest early on, what with her prowess in battle, and her loyalty to her people above even her own life. It was respectable and you admired her for her strength. Both with wits and with blade. You trusted her for her word once you’ve come to see the sentiment returned. There was no one else you would trust to take to battle with over her.

But it was more than that… You’ve seen and heard how the githyanki were portrayed, by Shadowheart no less… Lae’zel’s people suffered persecution from the people of your world for their “brute hostility”... Lae’zel gets a gleam of pride in her eye anytime she hears that… and at first you wondered if it was just your Oath that drew you closer to the soldier, a need to defend, a need to lash out against any hatred sent her direction

No… that wasn’t it… Not when you stood there, mouth agape as your eyes darted back and forth from Lae’zel to Orpheus. You gulped as her hand subconsciously slid into your pocket, the jar containing the Astral Tadpole finding shelter in your palm. A sacrifice had to be made now that the Emperor was no longer on your side and you needed the powers of a Mind Flayer on your side if you even considered taking on the Netherbrain. You broke into a sweat at what this would entail.

You would give up your form for something so much greater that it couldn’t even be contained in your body. It was an almighty power that you were not meant to have, and as a Paladin, a quest for such power would break your very oath, even if your intentions were good, even if your intentions were out of spite to destroy the brain. But you knew what your intentions were and they were purely selfish: You intended to spare Lae’zel the impossible task of watching the Prince of her people give up his newfound freedom for another Hell. Not because of your oath of vengeance, but because you loved her.

“I…” This was the first time you’ve ever seen Lae’zel speechless and wide-eyed, at a complete loss. “You…”

“Mla’ghir… Liberator… That is what you shall be known to our people as… May my will be done,” Orpheus decreed, bowing to you, and from behind him you can still she Lae’zel struggling, her mouth opening and closing, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but you could’ve sworn you had seen a glossy film over her eyes that was pooling on her lower eyelids.

“You have a duty to your people, Lae’zel… just like I had a duty to anyone and everyone who crossed my path… before I met you. Now, I have my own personal oath to you, and I will do anything to-”

If it was a kiss you were seeking, you succeeded. One hand grabbed the back of your neck and the other wound around your back, pulling you in firmly against her lips. It was a bittersweet display, knowing this was the last that you were to receive. It was worth it, and you would break your oath a million times over if it meant Lae'zel could finally have the opportunity to let go of her own vengeance. Taking a step back while uncorking the bottle before you could lose your nerve, you accept the Astral Tadpolr, and miss the look of terror and worry Lae'zel had for you as she weakly reached out before thinking better of it.

Karlach –

You were born in a lonesome village nestled discreetly in the thick forests of the Wilderness. Hard to access seeing as there’s only one way in and one way out, and the entrance is hidden behind a waterfall. A true town of nature, it is literally taken over and incorporated into the wild. You grew up with the whispers of the trees and the understanding of animals. Everything had a balance, and you could tell when all was right with the world in terms of energy and flow.

Which also entailed being able to pinpoint the moment nature felt off, like there was a wound torn asunder and darkness and misery was oozing out and taking over. Being as in- tune with nature as you were, it physically pained you to feel the death of the earth around you. Living in a place so far away from the destruction of life was good for you– Until you could feel the presence of people making their exploration in a place already explored. There was hardly anything you could do to protect the sanctity of the land, not when you could physically feel the wars waging upon them, the resources that were being exploited…

Your prayers for the lands were answered one day by Mielikki, the goddess of forests and the creatures who live within, and with her she brought an Oath granting unspeakable powers that could benefit in healing, healing yourself, healing your friends, healing the world… “You fight on the side of light in the cosmic struggle against darkness to preserve the sanctity of life and the beauty of nature.”

No other words would ever ring more true to you as you live your life healing the hurt that mankind leaves behind on the land. You still hold onto hope that there are more people like you who care about the wellbeing of nature and the life within. You keep that hope alive in hopes that it would spark and set ablaze, leaving a lasting impression on people rather than nature.

You found yourself lounged comfortably along the wooden raft that you yourself had crafted. The wood was chipping and stained with a permanent moss, evidence of its wear-and-tear during its time in service. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle lapping of the babbling river, the rustling of leaves as wildlife took its course through the surrounding wilderness, and your breathing… you didn’t even see the nautiloid coming

You didn’t even see Karlach coming. Well… that’s neither here nor there… But her fiery nature and her bright soul was breathtaking, and you found yourself in awe of the force of her very being. Her smile, her mannerisms, her passion… she burns brighter than anyone or anything you’ve ever known– and it was only a matter of time before she burnt out. It was a cruel reality that you avoided, but you knew, deep down, past your heart, but to your Oath…

Karlach’s soul was the purest you’ve felt in ages, but there was no heart that sustained that. It was an infernal engine that roared the very fires of Hell, and it was a bomb that was set to go off at any given moment. It was nature’s way, and your Oath was telling you to accept it, that all cycles come and go and that this was no different, no matter the sorrowful circumstances. But you couldn’t accept the snuffing of the brightest life that the world, Heavens, or Hells could offer, that would be the cruelest crime against humanity.

That was what you told yourself. But at the end of it all was when you lost your faith. You held not an ounce of hope in your heart in the depths of your deepest despair: watching her grunt in agony when she would usually be cheering and whooping in celebration. The very life and soul of the party– the one who, without even knowing it, had you changing your entire devotion. There was only one you intended to worship and it wasn’t Mother Earth… Her name was Karlach, and you could feel your own light fading with her own as you felt your love being plucked away. You would drain every sea, tear apart every mountain if it meant sparing her life.

And… you were letting it? You could have pushed harder for her to return to Avernus, just long enough to find a more permanent cure, or another upgrade at least… But the heartbreak on her face and the constant insistences of getting trapped and never returning were too much to press further. You would never ask her to do something she was dead set against, and you never would have asked her to give up her body and soul for the advantage over the Netherbrain by becoming a Mind Flayer. You rush forward, ignoring her initial attempts to push you away so as to not get burned, and wrap your arms around her body despite your skin burning and peeling. This was it, you could feel her trembling and you were afraid… so afraid that you crumbled and your facade broke when it really mattered. You begged her to stay, to return to Avernus because you in fact needed her alive more than you needed anything else alive on the planet.

Would one call you selfish for allowing her to lose her body and soul anyway for a less noble cause? Would they call you thoughtful for taking her interests to heart? As Karlach faded with a lovely smile reserved only for you along with a wink, you felt the oncoming tendrils of nothingness take a hold of where the light in your heart used to be. There was nothing now, no love, no guidance… What would Karlach think of you for breaking your Oath of the Ancients by losing yourself in losing her?

Astarion –

You were born to a life of nobility within Baldur’s Gate, a life that supplied little struggle, though you knew of it when you could see the hopeless flocking the streets. There are times that your guilty conscience calls you to act, to give what you could, but you also had an understanding that what was yours was yours, and it wouldn’t remain so if you gave it all away. Some might call you generous with the people.

Others might try to kill you. How appreciative. You like to think it was for the run-of-the-mill nobility ransom, maybe come to kidnap you by chance? You couldn’t understand why they were pulling their knives ou-

And then you were gasping awake, suddenly lying on the ground in a pool of blood– your blood… The servants had found your dead body, and your family could afford to stock up almost indefinitely on Scrolls of Revivify. Your brain was foggy as you struggled to comprehend the series of events that resulted in you being resurrected. It was a weird cult who had a hit out on you and you had never felt so helpless. When you had learned the news that all of your possessions had been stolen along with your life, you needed vengeance.

So you dedicated your time to following the goddess of avarice and hatred, Tiamat in hopes of gaining her favor. After a while, you thought she had no use of you, maybe undeserving of her power, but one day she finally came to you.

“Your fury is still there, but you are not so blinded… I have use for all, but to think of yourself as unworthy– well… That makes it so much sweeter. You will set aside even your own purity to right wrongs and deliver justice to those who have committed the most grievous sins.”

And deliver it you shall. You could taste the putrid burn of unserved justice. You could feel the fiery anger of revenge from the wronged as if it were your very own, and nothing was sweeter on your lips than delivering the final sentence after it itched at your skin for the longest. Overall, it was a satisfying life consisting of butting into other people’s business and having god-gifted powers to judge them for it. One could get used to it, and you did… until you were infected and scrambling just like the party you were traveling all over Faerun with.

The vampire had charisma about himself, his words dripping with honey as much as blood as you spoke to him and learned more about his backstory. The more you got to know, the more your hunger for vengeance grew into a gnawing at your gut. You would personally see to Cazador’s death as retribution but you wouldn’t dream to see it carried out by your own hand– No, for once, it felt even better to watch Astarion unleash centuries of torment and anguish. He was on his knees, and while that was usually a beautiful sight that you’ve come to… come, gravity pulled you to your own knees as you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s okay, my love, it’s over… you are free,” You cradle his face in your hands, and you watch as he flinches before easing into your touch despite himself.

“I feel… nothing,” admitted Astarion hollowly, truthfully… You could see all the spunky attitude keeping him his charming self just gone from his body as he sagged forward. “His connection, his influence, gone… As is my way to walk freely in the sun when this is over.”

In the haste of battle, it was easier to acknowledge that Cazador’s special spawns were his energy source. He couldn’t complete the ritual, ergo, he could not absorb Astarion’s soul, leaving him nothing but a pile of ash. That also meant that Astarion himself lost the opportunity to Ascend in Cazador’s place and accept unlimited power that a lot of people dream of, yourself included. Seeing his wide range of emotion, you couldn’t help but to feel a bitter taste in your mouth. You took part in stopping his Ascension…

So you would do anything to give yourself and the man you love the chance at that power again, even if it meant turning your back on the greater good. What greater power was there than the control of the Netherbrain? As the party traveled far and wide, you had encountered several illithid tadpoles on your journey. A majority of the group did not favor the power that they had to bring, and trusted you to agree. That was why you shared the tadpoles in secret with Astarion the moment he showed interest.

The power coursing through the two of you along with the help of the Emperor… it was no challenge to overpower the brain and take control of it, granting unmeasurable powers the likes of which no one had wielded before. Even the Gods would quake in your wake… Even Tiamat herself could not harm you for taking on such power that would deem you as an Oath Breaker. You pull Astarion into a kiss, and allow every racing thought to flow outward and into your connection. You feel his sly smirk against your lips along with a gentle nick of his right fang.

“Darling, you’re so vile I could eat you right up… I adore anyone who would break an Oath for me… whether it was their own or someone else’s,”

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acourtofthought · 2 months

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Another argument I often see is that Feyre and Nesta were able to fall in love without the bond driving their decision which is why Elucien's bond will be rejected, because Elain can't fall in love naturally with Lucien.

(sort of a continuation of my last post)

Feyre:

Can anyone explain why Feyre would have had any reason to want Rhys, even UTM?

We remember UTM, right? All the things Rhysand did to Feyre long before she ever realized it was all part of the mask he was wearing?

To Feyre, it wasn't Rhys pretending to be the bad guy. UTM, he was the bad guy.

She didn't begin to realize who he actually was until many months later.

Yet she wanted him even then. Because of the mating bond. No, she didn't feel it snap but she even says "her heart knew he was hers long before she did."

That's because they were mates even then and that is why she wanted him. Not because she chose him for how super sweet and loving he was UTM but because they were mates.

She fell for the person eventually but the bond is always what drew her to him in the first place.

Nesta:

Can anyone explain why Nesta would have wanted Cassian from the moment she met him?

He was the species she grew up fearing, right? She didn't even want Feyre in her house after being turned fae yet somehow she desperately wanted a stranger?

Was that because she had spent so much time with Cassian and realized what a good and decent male he was? Or was it because the bond drew her to him in a way that terrified her?

Same as Feyre, she didn't know a mating bond existed between them but she knew something was there.

She didn't choose Cassian because they were such good friends. She wasn't terrified at first because she loved him after the ways he made her laugh or the thoughtful gifts he gave. She was overwhelmed and drawn to him because of the bond.

Neither Archeron actually chose their mates.

Sure they eventually got to know them and fell in love but they wanted Rhys and Cassian even when they didn't want to want them, when they had absolutely no reason to want them. When they would have probably chosen anyone but them.

The bond took away their choice just as much as e/riels claim it takes away Elain's.

At least she's going into things with eyes wide open rather than wondering why she's drawn to someone she considered an "enemy" the way Feyre and Nesta did.

Fated Mates romance is not a "I choose my own destiny" trope. It's a "Jesus Take the Wheel" kind of trope meaning that eventually the characters (despite some initially fighting fate) realize that maybe there is some all powerful entity that might know better.

Clearly that entity knew what was best for Feyre and Nesta.

If that's somehow offensive to someone's feminist ideals then, while I respect their opinion, SJM is clearly not the author for you.

Because Nesta and Feyre did not choose for themselves. They merely eventually came around to the path that fate always intended for them.

#elain archeron #anti e/riel #elucien #pro elucien

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1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Committed II

Read the first part here

(I'm sorry it's gonna have to be three parts at this rate)

“Hi, kitten,” his voice vibrated in his chest and through her body.

“Hi Harry,” she whispered.

“Missed me?” He hummed to the top of her hair.

“A little,” she muttered. He chuckled.

She had heard Harry sing for almost her whole life—since she had met him when she moved to England and started primary school the same year as he did. Harry’s voice was like a lullaby—her suggestion to record covers was joke, but she was grateful all the same. But there was no greater music than Harry laughing in her ear.

On the days where they weren’t getting ready for a show, she was working her day job; managing a local music store—anything to get into the business of making Harry’s dreams come true. Harry often meandered there on his lunch break to look over albums and sit while she organized shelves and chatted with customers.

As much as Harry liked the idea of becoming part of a big-time band, he didn’t really mind if he didn’t. He was content working at a club when he wasn’t playing in the band. One day he planned to own his own club and play as much as possible. He loved music and loved the idea of supporting small town bands like his. And honestly, he always imagined owning it with his best friend in the world.

She was walking toward another shelf to organized it while Harry mindlessly flipped through new album titles on old vinyl. Harry was in awe of how his generation and the one after him were moving toward such vintage ideals, he liked the feel of records again. But mostly, He liked seeing her in her element among the songs and titles.

As she walked over, Harry called a quiet “Hey,” and tossed a French fry in her direction at the same time. Without even a break in her step, she turned her face just as he threw it, the fry bounced off half her cheek and she managed to snag the other half with her tongue. He chuckled as she winked at him. It was moments like these that Harry thought about Niall saying she would be insane not to take the internship. More so when she said she should be committed then, because she wouldn’t be taking it.

Because the only thing Harry could think about was how he would have to be committed if she did take it.

The idea of not seeing her every day and hearing her laugh made his chest ache for something he shouldn’t even be aching about. She was right there. Just a shelf away from him. Her eyes scanning titles of albums to make sure they were in the right order. Humming to the music that played (her choice of course).

“I think you should record,” she said.

It came up every so often. Usually when one of the songs Harry covered played over the speakers filling the room with sweet melodies that she loved so much. It was part of the reason Harry did all the covers. Why he was so insistent the band learn the old songs and obscure songs that they wouldn’t have normally played. Whatever she loved was fine by him because there wasn’t a song as sweet as her happiness.

She had a lot of favorite songs, and as such, so did Harry.

“We can’t jus’ record covers, kitten.”

She rolled her eyes. “There are cover bands, Harry,” she reminded him.

“I know, m’love,” he chuckled. “But...I want t’record m’own music.”

“Well, you can do that too...I just think you sing this song better than original and I’d like to have it recorded so I can fall asleep listening to it.”

Shaking his head as he popped another fry into his mouth he thought about her suggestion. He liked the idea that his voice would be the last thing she heard before she fell asleep. “Maybe if y’take this internship, I’ll record us...a going away present,” he suggested.

Her organization of the shelf came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes locked with the album titles, and she then slowly closed them. “Very funny,” she muttered.

“Kitten—”

“Don’t. Just don’t, Harry. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

He was quiet for a few moments as he pondered the notion that she wouldn’t leave because of him. Mitch couldn’t be right. That would be insane. There was no way she would give up an incredible opportunity like this...for Harry. “M’always on your side, love,” he said softly. He didn’t want to upset her, and he could see the way her jaw locked tensely as he started to speak again. It was like she was on the defensive. But Harry could also see the way her eyes started to water. “S’why I think y’should go,” he told her. As much as he didn’t want her to be so far away... “I...I would come visit,” he promised. “S’only a year,” he reminded her. “We could FaceTime all the time.”

She didn’t speak for a moment. “A lot can change in a year,” she whispered quietly so the sadness in her voice couldn’t reach his ears.

But it was her, so he heard it anyway. “Not us.” Harry watched a tear roll down her cheek and she caught it with the back of her hand before Harry could make a big deal of it. “Jus’ think ‘bout it,” he said. “Don’t say no yet,” he murmured and stood from his stool, another French fry between his fingers as he walked closer to her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, gave her a squeeze with a kiss to the top of her head. He held the fry to her lips, and she bit it, despite not feeling in a playful mood.

“Okay,” she said and wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist tucking herself into his chest and Harry wished with everything in him that it didn’t feel like goodbye.

When they caught up at home, Harry would sit with her legs draped over his lap a book in between her hands and he would play a video game with Mitch or just watch a show while she read. They looked like a couple. Acted like a couple. “Do you want Mexican or Italian?” She asked randomly as her eyes scanned her book.

He glanced from his game to catch her concentrated expression and he just wanted to kiss her sweet face for the rest of his life. “We haven’t had Italian in a while, yeah?” He murmured.

They certainly sounded like an old married couple.

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Can you pick it up?” She smiled impishly.

“Ugh...” he groaned. “I got it last time!”

“But I don’t wanna,” she whined.

Harry would slice his arm off at the elbow if she asked. Even if her dramatic whine was all fake, he would do anything for her to appease her. Smirking he sighed just as dramatically as she whined. “Oh alright.”

“I’m so lucky to have a best friend like you. Thank God, I sat next to you on the bus,” she giggled. Harry smirked gently tossing her legs off his lap. “Gah!” She gasped. “No wait! Never mind! Let’s get pizza or something else delivered.” He chuckled.

“S’matter, love?”

“I was so comfy,” she frowned and pouted petulantly. Harry couldn’t believe how cute she looked. He thought his heart would ooze right out of his body and melt at his feet. How could she not know how much he adored her?

“Aw, kitten,” he cooed at her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be right back...actually, can I get it on your phone? Mine is dead from—” He grabbed it off the coffee table and started to unlock it with her passcode when a message popped up from a guy’s name he didn’t recognize. He felt his eyebrows pinch together in confusion. Her mouth fell open because even though Harry didn’t know what was going on, she definitely did. “Who’s this?” He asked.

“Uh...remember the night I fell at the club?”

“Yeah...”

“This guy started chatting with me in the crowd when I left backstage.”

Harry remembered the guy almost instantly. He hadn’t thought to think about him because all he could think about was her safety, her head injury, and how scared he was that night. Any thought of inquiring about the man that caught her attention was lost in the shuffle of more pressing matters. And Harry couldn’t believe he forgot about it—especially now, seeing his name on her phone. “Oh.”

“He’s nice,” she said quietly. “He wants to get coffee sometime.”

Harry nodded and moved to her internet browser so he could look up the Italian restaurant. He was glad he was going to get the food now. It gave him time to collect his thoughts. “That’s nice,” he said absentmindedly.

She hated when he was grumpy. “Are you mad?”

“Y’didn’t mention him...s’been almost a month.”

“Wasn’t really anything to tell you.”

He nodded ordering her favorite without asking. He didn’t need to. Smugly, he thought the guy at the other end of her phone wouldn’t know what her favorite meal was without asking. He’d have to find out and that made Harry happy. The guy in question was good looking and he obviously had good taste if he had eyes for the sweet girl sitting beside him. He remembered in the moment how mad he was that someone was chatting her up and making her cheeks turn pink. Harry wanted to throw her phone in the toilet and flush it before she could answer him. “Okay,” he said but he sounded irritated, and she knew he was.

“Harry?” She asked as he started for the door to put his shoes on.

“Yeah, love?” His sour mood shrinking as he distanced himself from the offensive text messages.

“I wouldn’t go out with a guy without telling you about him,” she promised. “Someone has to make sure I’m not kidnapped or murdered.”

Harry wished he could have just said what he was thinking. But instead, he smiled and shook his head. “You sweet girl, anyone that kidnapped you, would bring y’back t’me after ten minutes,” he winked exiting before she had time to argue.

“I resent that!” He heard her call through the door.

*Three Months Later*

It took a lot of convincing, a lot of packing, and a lot of reassurance that she could go, and it would be okay.

Harry was the one that took her to the airport. Her mom knew how important it was to give them a chance to say their goodbyes alone, without an audience of people they knew. Besides, her mom had always wanted to see the states. She would visit in no time. They didn’t chat while Harry walked her bags through security check, and he pressed a hand to her back when the crowd got too large. She was so completely comforted by his touch it melted her like nothing she’d ever felt before.

But when Harry heard her sniffle, he knew he was done for. “Oh, don’t start, kitten. I won’t be able t’stop if y’start,” he chuckled sadly, and tears filled his vision.

She sniffled around a choked off, giggly breath. “M’sorry.” He stopped in his tracks and wrapped his arms around her tightly clutching her to his chest. He kissed the top of her head as she shook with silent sobs. Harry swallowed around the emotion in his throat trying to be brave for her. But he couldn’t help but worry about all that could happen in a year. As much as he didn’t want it to.

After a few minutes her tears, they continued walking to her gate. Harry held her hand and it felt like they were a couple. It always did, but there was something about this...this moment that felt so different. “You can’t get a new best friend while I’m gone,” she blurted. “Maybe Niall can be your new best friend or Mitch...maybe even Sarah, but that’s it. Definitely, no new girl ones.”

“Kitten, I couldn’t dream of replacing you,” he promised. As easy as it would have been to roll his eyes at the prospect, he refrained. He meant each word. There was no replacing her. When she got back, Harry would still be there waiting for her. She noticed how there wasn’t even a smile at her near crazy outburst. He didn’t even laugh at the idea of it all. “We’re going t’talk every day,” he assured her.

She felt like someone was ripping her heart out piece by piece right through her chest. She should just say it. Tell him. He probably knew she was in love with him. It was kind of him to remain best friends even when she was infatuated with him. There were so many options for him...and without her around to be in the way...

God, a year seemed like forever. “Yeah?” She asked meekly.

“No...you’re the only one I need, love.” She wished with everything in her Harry meant those words. “I’ll see y’before y’know it,” he said.

“Don’t,” she sniffled.

“I know,” he said and looked at the floor. “I got y’something,” he mumbled.

She looked up at him. She wished she wasn’t crying so much because Harry was too beautiful to be blurred by tears and it was going to be the last time, he saw her for a good long while. “Why?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “You’re something else, love.” Reaching in his pocket he procured a flash drive and placed it in her palm. “For when y’fall asleep.” It took a moment for the words to process. But once they did her jaw nearly unhinged, and she wished she could have been more put together in that moment but instead she threw herself into his embrace and held onto him like he was a life raft.

Part of her believed he really was a life raft in more ways than one. She was certain that if it weren’t for the scheduled flight, she might have drowned the two of them with her tears.

As soon as she landed, Harry was the first one she texted.

I’ve arrived.

Good. Now s’only 179 days till I visit. :)

After she called her mom and showed off her new little place, she FaceTimed Harry, of course. She knew it was late there, but he answered on the first ring. “Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey, love,” he smiled sleepily. “Show me around,” he hummed.

“No...it’s late. I just...wanted to say goodnight to you.”

“No, show me,” he pressed. “M’not tired.”

She could see the way his eyes drooped, and she would have given anything to coerce his tall and lanky frame to bed. This would be the longest six months of her life. “I’ll show you tomorrow. I’m pretty jet lagged myself,” she said.

He nodded. He really would have stayed up. Harry would have asked questions. But he was glad he wouldn’t have to. “Oh...okay, love. Did y’listen yet?”

“No,” she said and pulled her laptop from her bag. “I will now,” she smiled. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, love,” he murmured. As she was about to end the call, she waved but he stopped her. “Wait,” he said suddenly. She paused and he smiled gently. “I love you, kitten. Miss you already,” he said sweetly.

Her heart thudded loudly throughout her body. “I love you too,” she whispered.

But she wondered if he knew she meant it from six thousand miles away.

She wondered if Harry thought about her as often as she thought about him. It was evening time for her, and Harry was probably (hopefully) sleeping. She knew if she called him, he would wake to the sound of her ringtone. She would tell him how much she missed him, and he would be alert and awake before the sun was even up.

So, she stared silently out the window of the tall building she was living in on her own, trying not to think about her best friend half a world away. She tried not to think about how his life was very much the same and hers was not. It’s not like she could date anyone even if she wanted to—she was only state side for another six months and then she would be back to pining for Harry. Hoping and praying that they would just be.

Sarah called frequently and kept her updated on how Harry was actually doing. “His mind is everywhere...well not really. All he thinks about is you; but it really clouds his judgment and vision and everything,” she snickered. “We all miss you a lot.”

“I really miss you guys. This is an amazing opportunity and I’m glad, I guess,” she giggled. “That you made me go,” she rolled her eyes.

“My pleasure,” Sarah flipped her hair with a proud smile on her face. “So how are the guys?” She asked with a wiggling eyebrow.

“Oh...” she snorted. “That’s a no from me,” she told her. “There’s no point at all,” she explained.

“Plus, your betrothed would lose it,” she amended. “I heard something, somewhere, that even if you don’t eat, you can appreciate the menu,” she giggled. “So, tell me what they’re like.”

“What do you mean betrothed?” She rolled her eyes.

“Love, please don’t be silly,” Sarah sighed. “Harry would go out of his mind.” She looked at Sarah through the camera and stared at her. “You can’t be serious. If you met a guy in the States, Harry would go out of his mind. He’d spiral that you’ll never come back,” she explained. “You obviously know this.”

“No, I don’t obviously know this.”

Sarah was silent for a few moments and they just stared at once another. “Love,” she said so gently. “You have to know you’re both madly in love with each other,” she said.

Swallowing she shook her head. “Sarah, I don’t look like you. I don’t look like any girl Harry has ever dated. I don’t look like the girls that fall in love with him or Niall or even Mitch when you guys play on stage. I’m not...” she felt the pricking of tears burning her eyes. It was hard to have this conversation at all. Having it over Facetime thousands of miles away from her friend was even worse.

“Harry doesn’t love me though,” she said gently. Sarah’s eyebrows pinched together in concern and her lips pressed together. “He’s so entranced by you. I wish you could see the way he lights up when you’re around,” Sarah sounded so sure, so positive. It broke her heart that she couldn’t see how much Harry loved her the way she saw it. “He doesn’t love those girls because they’re not you.”

“But he should,” she whispered.

“Why would he?! He’s your best friend and he adores you. Everything about you. He was so excited for you to get this opportunity as much as he wanted to handcuff you to his side. You—”

“Because I’m not good enough for him,” she said dejectedly.

Sarah was silent again. “What are you talking about?”

“Sarah, he’s perfect,” she said. “He’s beautiful, he’s funny, he’s smart, he’s nice. He is the best person I know and he deserves—”

“He deserves you,” she interrupted. She shook her head sniffling as she thought about all the times she wanted Harry so much and he was always so close but he really, always, so far away.

“I’m not pretty—”

“Love, you’re stunning,” she promised. “You have to believe that. Harry forgets how to speak when you walk in the room...he’s so completely smitten with you.”

She snorted. “Harry forgets how to speak when anyone walks in the room.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Just a small sniffle every couple seconds. “Harry has been depressed while you’ve been gone. He’s been dying to come see you. It’s all he can talk about. He doesn’t go out, but he doesn’t even want to go out without you. He plays music, he packs up, he sleeps, and he goes to work. The only time he’s himself is when he chats with you. You are his favorite person; that is more than enough.”

She didn’t respond to Sarah’s claims. “Are you coming to visit?”

Sighing Sarah smiled weakly. “We’re all trying to spread out the visits so as not to overwhelm you but also make it go by faster for us all,” she rolled her eyes. “He may miss you the most, but he’s not the only one. It’s quite testosterone-y around here,” she giggled.

Smiling she nodded. “Yeah, I bet,” she shook her head. “M’sorry to leave you with them all.”

“Oh it’s quite alright. You’ve always been good about reigning in their craziness though. I just don’t have the knack, energy, or patience for it,” she rolled her eyes. “They’re silly boys.”

“That’s for sure. Niall told me he was going to try his hand at your drums.”

“Yeah, he did! I almost murdered him,” she laughed.

She was grateful to not talk about Harry for the rest of the phone call. As much as she probably did want to talk about him. But if she did, she was afraid she would continue crying and crying until it was time for her to go home.

While she loved having everyone visit, of course it was Harry’s visit she was looking forward to the most. (Not that she would tell the others that.) But it was Harry that she was nearly bouncing with excitement in the airport terminal as she waited anxiously for him to appear through the doors of baggage claim ready to tackle him in a hug that she hoped would never end.

“For someone so tall you think I’d find you more easily,” she said to her phone.

He chuckled a bit tiredly. “M’jus’ stuck behind a ton of people, kitten. M’here though. M’looking for your short frame but m’afraid I might miss you.”

“Suddenly I want you to go home.”

“Aw,” he cooed. “Don’t be mean,” he chuckled. “Came all this way,” he reminded her.

She was about to make another slight joke at his expense, but her eye caught his tall frame just as the doors open once more. All at once, she was running.

She dropped her phone into her purse and felt tears prick her eyes and she didn’t even warn him that she saw him, didn’t warn him as she silently flew across the crowd of people. Only stopping when her arms were around his neck, her toes barely touching the floor and nothing ever felt so much like home except for Harry. Stumbling at the sudden mass of energy flying at him, he sighed with relief as his arms wrapped around her. They stood silently, just as they did the last time they were in the airport, her tears silent and few this time as she released a breath she felt like she had been holding since she left.

“Hi, kitten,” his voice vibrated in his chest and through her body.

“Hi Harry,” she whispered.

“Missed me?” He hummed to the top of her hair.

“A little,” she muttered. He chuckled.

But there was no greater music than Harry laughing in her ear.

Harry had the longest visit—staying two weeks in her little place all snuggled up like their little married couple that everyone mistook them for. “M’so happy t’be here,” he said while she poured muffin batter, she just finished mixing into the pan.

“Just for muffins?” She smiled.

With a shake of his head, a sigh, and an eyeroll he thought about shaking her a bit at how silly she was being. “Kitten, ‘ve missed you something awful,” he murmured.

She focused on pouring carefully and not how her stomach fluttered at his words. “I heard,” she said gently. “Moping around?”

“What’s the point in going out if m’best friend isn’t around?” He shrugged.

“So you don’t get all sad and sappy while I’m gone!”

He smiled that beautiful, dimply smile that made her heart skip beats. “Love, m’a mess without y’around t’keep me in line,” he admitted. “Can’t remember ever being apart from you after I met you.

Putting the empty bowl in the sink and the pan in the oven she looked Harry all lanky and beautiful sitting on the stool at the breakfast bar sipping his coffee that she so kindly made for him. All the things that Sarah mentioned ran through her brain. Here he was visiting her so he wouldn’t go crazy for the rest of the year. She thought about all the girls that fawned over him and how pretty they were and how pretty he was.

But she also thought about how he was here. Completely content on being alone in her place or exploring nearby while she was at work. Cooking her dinner and taking her for walks and visiting tourist attractions when she was free.

Hope seemed like the enemy every time she looked in the mirror. Looking at her reflection made her long for a less asymmetrical face. She wished her skin was smoother. And if she looked past her neck, she made herself forget how to breathe without how sad she was and the idea that she would never be good enough for her best friend.

“Hey love, I made reservations for this ramen place, have y’been to it yet?” Hurriedly she left the bathroom with a shake of her head and hurried to find Harry scrolling on his phone, comfortably at home on her couch.

Over the six months she’d been here, she felt the place always seemed a bit empty.

She should have known Harry was the part that was missing.

When Harry left to return home the heartache was nearly as fresh as the last time. But now it felt like a countdown—for as much as she loved the internship, she was excited to go back and get back into her routines and be with her best friend.

The tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she watched Harry cross through security and out of view. “It’s so refreshing to see a couple so committed and in love with each other,” a woman smirked gently at the poor girl sadly gazing longingly after her best friend. She turned to the woman who looked old enough to be her mother.

“Pardon?” She sniffled wiping her cheeks and under her eyes with both hands.

“I’m sorry, not to be intrusive, you just reminded me of my husband and myself years ago,” she said reaching into her purse for a package of tissues and then offered one to the poor sad girl. “In college we spent some time abroad—a year apart from one another each. The longest time we were ever apart.”

“Oh...we’re not...” she sniffled wiping the tissue under her nose. “We’re just friends.”

The woman smirked and shook her head. “Yes. They usually are,” she trailed off and headed toward the security line as well.

Blinking away the final tears and sniffling, she turned on her heel heading back for the warm air outside the airport thinking how there were fewer minutes left until she would see Harry next.

@tiaamberxx

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arteastica · 11 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (1)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters). no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.1k

One could say it was the most important night of that summer. Even the cloudless sky had allowed the stars to witness the scene unfolding beneath, and only the occasional barking of faraway dogs interrupted the silence. It was the night decisions were awaiting to be made. The type of life-defining decisions that no teenager should ever be expected, or rather forced, to make. Luckily for you, you were a couple of years ahead, ahead enough to not be considered a teenager anymore. And maybe this was the reason why looking around and seeing the tightly clenched fists, trembling jaws, and sweaty foreheads of your 15-year-old Training Corps classmates made you realize that you honestly didn’t know what you were doing in the middle of it all.

The choice was simple for those who actually had one. As it was tradition, the top ten students of the class would be allowed to choose the best out of the three options presented: to join the Military Police and enjoy the safety and commodities that came with life in the innermost wall, to settle for a more humble lifestyle by doing whatever it is that they do in the Garrison, or to put their lives in the line for humanity in the Survey Corps. With young brains still under construction, no one could be trusted to make the right call. The definition of ‘right call’ being ‘one you wouldn’t regret years in the future, or next week when a titan had you in their grip.’ However, you believed that joining the Military Police came with significantly lower risks of regret. And that’s why the MP was the one you were aiming for. Or would have, if you were part of that coveted top 10. That would have been ideal.

Ideal. In an ideal world, no one would have to make such a crucial decision at that age. In fact, there wouldn’t even be crucial decisions to make, in the first place. But this wasn’t an ideal world. It was far from that. A quick glance around at the faces you had gotten used to seeing for the last 3 years was enough of a reminder, in case you had forgotten. But who could forget? All of them standing next to you had either lost someone or everyone precious in their lives when the Wall fell. Luckily for you, however, you had your immediate family alive and well in the capital. And although you didn’t own enough wealth to be accepted into the social circles of the rich, you lived a comfortable life, and most importantly, a safe one. That’s why it came as a shock to your family when you enlisted as a-

“We will reach that basement in Shiganshina. However, this requires us to retake Wall Maria”

Retake what? Your backstory was left pending for another night. Because, before you could start narrating it to yourself, a solemn, modulated voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your head instinctively turning to the stage to locate the source. And that was the first time you saw him: The 13th commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith himself.

“But with the Trost gate permanently sealed, we’ll have to take the long way around from Karanes in the east”

You had heard stories about Erwin Smith. A man of unyielding drive, an iron-willed leader, a liberator, you believed you heard someone called him once. And of course there was also ‘reckless’, ‘demented’, and ‘out of it’, all of which were adjectives commonly tied to his name, especially in the capital. ‘Insane’ was your father’s preferred one, usually heard around dinner time when the topic of Erwin Smith’s latest outrageous expedition somehow found its way into the family table. And you remembered feeling sorry for the man on more than one occasion. Because, from the safety of your Sina home, the closest titan surely miles away, as you fluffed pillows and slipped under warm blankets of undisturbed rest, you had struggled to think of anyone living a more different lifestyle to yours than the commander of the Survey Corps, that one man relentlessly trying to attain the unattainable: to free humanity from the walls.

“It seems the four years we spent preparing a route for an invasion force have gone to waste”

And that night he also seemed to be trying to attain the unattainable: convincing a group of frightened individuals to join a suicide squad.

“In those four years, more than sixty percent of the Legion’s forces lost their lives”

You wondered if there was at least a single easy thing in the man’s life.

“Sixty percent in four years. An insane figure”

His voice was controlled and pleasant to listen to. Even though the things he was talking about were far from pleasant. Life scouting beyond the walls sounded as rough as it probably was. And you guessed that there was no way to make it sound appealing, no silver linings to be mentioned or talked about.

“Any trainees who join us will participate in next month’s expedition beyond the walls”

You had heard that his branch was in desperate need for new recruits, yet you could tell he had decided to let honesty do the talking that night. Because not even when discussing the dire prospect of survival of a Survey Corps member…

“We estimate thirty percent will not return”

…not even then he seemed tempted to make false promises.

“And in four years, most new recruits will be dead”

In fact, the more he spoke, the more honest and raw his words seemed to get. And while, so far, he hadn’t mentioned a single appealing thing about joining his cause, you felt you were beginning to understand it…

“But those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything”

You see, you had heard all the stories, but you had never seen the man before. And rumors had left out the part about how compelling he was. As he extended an open invitation to a potentially deadly celebration, his voice had a commanding yet gentle feel to it, the type associated with reliable leaders. He had an enthralling demeanor to him, the one that’s used to persuade. His words were softly spoken but rose-thorn sharp. There was something about him, the way he spoke, and carried himself. Erwin Smith certainly looked like someone who could talk the winter into skipping a year, or the rain into waiting until he got home. So yes, you were starting to get it...

“Now you have the cold, hard facts.”

After all the contemplations, it finally clicked.

“Any still willing to risk their lives, remain here.”

It makes sense you thought, why men followed him to their deaths.

“Ask yourselves, am I willing to offer my beating heart for humanity?”

Why they ‘dedicated their hearts’ as they say.

“That is all.”

Erwin Smith was intriguing. Very intriguing.

“All of you wishing to join other branches are dismissed.”

Muffled footsteps brought you back from the realm of thought. You looked around to find the previously full plaza now more than half-empty. You could hear Reiner’s heavy breathing beside you. Jean fiddling with his shirt behind you. Sasha clicking her teeth to your left. And despite the close proximity between your bodies, it all sounded so distant. As if you had been thrown underwater.

“Are you willing to die if I ordered to?”

Erwin Smith’s question, on the contrary, felt as if it had been whispered right into your ear. It felt personal and targeted. And for a brief second you forgot that, although almost everyone had already left, you were still not the only one in the plaza.

I don’t want to die. You answered in your head.

“I like the looks on your faces” You heard him say.

I don’t want to die. You repeated as you picked up your pace to catch up to Hitch at the entrance of the plaza.

“What took you so long?” she asked when you finally joined her.

“I hereby welcome you all to the Survey Corps!”

You heard Erwin Smith’s voice, now nothing more than a faint sound blending with the rustling leaves and getting carried away by the wind, as you and Hitch made your way back to the barracks.

“Did you hear almost all the top students joined the Survey Corps last night?” Hitch sounded particularly excited and jolly that morning. A huge smile plastered on her face.

“Did they?” You didn’t want to let yourself get too hopeful. But Hitch’s enthusiasm was contagious.

“Yep! And you know what that means right?” Your roommate gave you a cheeky grin “There might be a spot left for us at the MP after all!”

You were sure there most certainly was a spot for Hitch. But for you, that was a whole different story. You were no Mikasa. You were no Reiner. And given the fact that your physical capabilities were pretty average, even a little below that on bad days, you were certain you weren’t even in the top 20.

“Jeez. Woman, please look excited! We are set for life!”

She is set for life. “I’m not sure I’ll make the cut. It was the physical aptitude test-”

“Who cares? To hell with that test. What would you need stamina for inside Wall Sina anyway? I heard they don’t even use ODM in the MP. In our first year, maybe we’ll have to run after one of those random idiots who steal papayas from the street stalls, but I’m sure we can manage that much”

You laughed at the thought “You catch him. I’ll write the report”

“Deal!” she said “but once we climb up the ranks…” her eyes lit up with ambition as a result of whatever was going through her head. And you could tell she was plotting something questionable. But before you could start prying she added “Plus you did well everywhere else.”

She was right. While your physical performance wasn’t necessarily stellar, your academics were very good. As an overthinker, often worrying too much about too many, you overstudied for tests like no one in your class did, and your efforts often resulted in excellent marks.

“You’re right. Everyone save Shadis left something nice in my report card. Nothing personal, I’m sure”

Hitch nodded enthusiastically, clearly satisfied with herself because her words were having the effect she intended. And they really were, your head was starting to pitch more and more ideas to support the possibility that maybe, just maybe, you would be able to join the Military Police.

“You know what? You’re right, Hitch. We’ll join the MP and we’ll be on our way to the capital tomorrow.”

Wrong. Later that day, as you held the application paper in one hand, fountain pen in the other, you couldn’t help but snort when imagining how foolish you must have looked that morning, believing you would be back home as a member of the MP brigade. But there was no use in reminiscing now. You needed to focus and make the second best choice.

But focus for what? The only available options for you were the Garrison and the Survey Corps. And the choice was plain and obvious, wasn’t it? The Garrison wasn’t cool or anything but it was safe. Except, of course, for that incident from a couple of weeks ago, when that random titan showed up again, and tried to obliterate Trost District. Luckily for you, however, you had been assigned to assist with the relocation of the citizens once they entered Wall Rose, so you didn’t even have to see any titan at all. That had been a rare occurrence. And with the Survey Corps, the chances of survival were significantly lower. Zero for someone with your physical capabilities.

Are you willing to die if I ordered to?

Erwin Smith’s words from the night before showed up uninvited.

Those who make it through that hell will become superior soldiers, capable of surviving anything.

You could hear his solemn voice loud and clear, even one day later.

I like the look on your face.

Your hand now hovered dangerously over the ‘Survey Corps’ box, centuries worth of handed-down survival instincts forgotten in the blink of an eye.

I don’t want to die.

Your brain repeated as a last resort, right before the ink found the paper.

I don’t want to die.

Now it sounded like a complain more than a petition.

I hereby welcome you to the Survey Corps.

You heard him say, somewhere inside your head, as you turned in your application and walked away.

next chapter

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genderkoolaid · 10 months

Note

hi! i was wondering if you'd be willing to do an analysis of the aromantic manifesto thats been going around? most of the ppl ive seen so far have been from either non-aro queer ppl or non-loveless aros and i cant find any loveless aros talking about it, and ik thats something youve talked abt b4 (loveless aros i mean) id love to also see your thoughts on it.

So funny enough I saw this manifesto a while ago, but didn't really have any thoughts on it because I had too much trouble reading it for brain reasons, because its just. A lot.

So @spacelazarwolf compared this to lesbian separatism/radical feminism and I think that is pretty apt. Radical feminism takes accurate criticisms of the patriarchy (such as gender as a tool of oppression and misogyny) and comes to the conclusion that gender is, in all forms, inherently oppressive, men are inherently oppressors, and that to personally identify with gender roles or men in any way contributes to oppression, so we must take on political lesbianism to reject this.

This manifesto seems to do the same with amatonormativity. There are real criticisms of amatonormativity in queer spaces here; aromantics have talked a bit about how focusing queer liberation on romantic love as a reason why we shouldn't be oppressed is alienating, and how queer spaces often reinforce amatonormativity. But it then comes to the polarized conclusion that romance is itself oppressive, identification with romance contributes to oppression, and that we must take on (essentially) political aromanticism to reject this.

Which, like political lesbianism, is just... unnecessary? This is not the only conclusion we can come to as a result of these criticisms. And these conclusions prioritize abstract political theory over people's real lives and autonomy. Which is a big reason (although not the only one) why radical feminism fell apart, because eventually women got tired of having to structure their entire lives and identities around acting out Good Political Theory instead of being able to. y'know. Be themselves? But also, these kinds of conclusions are so absolute and polarized. They assume that nothing about gender or romance can grow and be improved.

There are parts of this manifesto I like. The line "The first big ruse of romance is that it is ubiquitous because it is natural, and it is natural because it is ubiquitous" I think is actually pretty cool and can be adapted to all kinds of things; for example, capitalism does the same thing, taking over as much of the world as possible & erasing other ways of life, and then using its dominance as evidence thats its just how humans naturally are. It brings up criticisms of love that are big parts of lovelessness, like the idea that love is inherently a good thing when it can be harmful and still be "love."

But then it takes the... strange path of saying that if people can't help how who they love, then neither can racists and transphobes and fatphobes, which is why romance is inherently oppressive. But like. Even within relationship anarchy, where all hierarchies are rejected, this problem won't disappear. Its a problem of attraction & how social systems shape how we think.

I also disagree with how it frames private vs public life:

Public life concerns the interests of people as citizens and is regarded as a legitimate sphere of social intervention. Private life concerns the interests of people as consumers/individuals and is nobody’s business but those privately involved. While the domestic sphere fashioned by heterosexual kinship relations has been historically designated as private life, queer intimacies have instead been regarded as a matter of public concern due to moral panics associating them with predation and perversion throughout history.

I disagree with this framing of private life as something which is seen as "nobody's business." Maybe that's true on the small scale of social politeness and ideals. But on a systematic level, to me, this is absolutely untrue, and its something I've been doing some thinking about with regards to modeling the patriarchy.

The patriarchy is greatly concerned with the private lives of individuals. In order to keep its control over society in general via gender-sex-sexuality, its important to control how people interact with others. Even heterosexual, cisgender relationships haven't been free from patriarchal scrutiny; the wife must submit to the husband, the children must submit to the parents, and the queers must be kept outside the home. Again, on the level of neighborly politeness, people are going to say "what happens in the home is none of my business." But a relationship where the wife is the breadwinner and the husband stays at home is easily subject to scrutiny because it threatens the patriarchal norms, which causes unease.

Romance, as a construct, is a tool of oppression in multiple ways. But the physical reality the construct is built on top of is not inherently evil. The feeling of romantic love is not inherently corrupt, the same way the feeling of gender isn't.

Their advice for abolishing romance also feels kinda... vague and unhelpful and messy. I'm still not really clear on what "abolishing romance" even entails because most of the things they list can be done while romantic relationships occur. It just reads like they took the ideas of relationship anarchy and made it political lesbianism 2

I, as an aromantic, find the idea of political aromanticism to be pretty gross. I know how it feels to be pushed towards a certain relationship with romance and I don't want to seen it done in reverse, and tbh I don't like the idea of making my identity into a political stance. Being aromantic absolutely influences my politics, but its also my experience as a person. Again, similarly to why it would be uncomfortable to have lesbian spaces be full of women who are not in any way attracted to women but are making a political statement.

It disappoints me that this manifesto's conclusion is that romance itself must be rejected, the same way radical feminism does. Because there are good points here, but all-or-nothing conclusion, to me, is more divisive than connective and that's a big problem. My feelings about gender abolition are that, if we achieve true liberation from the patriarchy, our construction of gender is naturally going to be very different. Perhaps those people will no longer use gender, or they'll just use it differently- but trying to force a specific outcome is unhelpful and clashes with individual autonomy and culture for the sake of political theory. Same goes for this. Maybe in a post-amatonormativity world, "romance" will lose meaning, or at least be very very different. But trying to force that outcome isn't helpful.

Anyways I hope these takes were interesting! Honestly given how much arophobia I've seen I'm worried people are going to see this manifesto and get hostile to a lot of aromantic ideas. So I wanna suggest that people check out I Am Not Voldemort by K.A Cook, which is where the concept of "loveless aros" came from, as well as The short instructional manifesto for relationship anarchy by Andie Nordgren, which created the concept of relationship anarchy. Both of these essays do a much better job at criticizing love & amatonormativity than this manifesto.

#m.#ask box

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blood-orange-juice · 8 months

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About Childe and his weird gender again, expanding on this post.

I think it has a lot to do with how gender is constructed. Male gender has very clear-cut prescriptions, mostly it's everything that is considered "good" or "human" in current culture. The expectations it places on a person may not be realistic or achievable but they are very clear. Great importance is also placed on separating itself from Everything Female. Things That Are Too Much. Things that break the current culture meaning-making procedures.

Women, while having quite a few prescriptions of their own, also deal with whatever fell through the cracks. Someone needs to ensure the world still functions and reality is never completely covered by whatever official model of the world we currently have.

So women deal with the things men have the luxury not to notice. Mostly bodily and psychological aspects and societal injustice that are not supposed to exist in the ideal picture of society men have imagined. (to be fair, it happens to anyone oppressed and othered. the task of not letting the oppressors meet with reality is delegated to them. I'm just talking about women specifically in this post. but there's a reason oppressed minorities always have ties to supernatural in folklore)

In a way, feminine women are very scary. Walking semiotic horrors.

And I explain all this to say that Childe can be perceived as feminine in two ways.

First, with his disregard for all and any societal norms he just doesn't follow the normal gender prescriptions. He plays a superhero/knight role because it's shiny and it reminds him of the stories he loved as a kid. He doesn't suppress his love for his family because it brings him joy. He looks pretty because looks are a weapon too. He does all these things that would be either stereotypically masculine or painfully unmasculine for anyone else who cares about what society thinks, but he doesn't really see any difference between them. He truly, genuinely doesn't care what others think.

Second, he's also painfully aware of the dark and insane parts of the universe everyone else has the luxury to ignore. He also knows no one cares so he dances around the things a normal guy would never have to deal with (it's such a stereotypical female experience. sometimes I wonder if that's why women rarely like Lovecraft. it's not scary or exciting to them, it's just Tuesday).

But that's just our perception, a trick of light. These are not necessarily gendered.

He also gives an impression of someone extremely vulnerable, yes, but I don't think he handles his vulnerability in a feminine way. He just doesn't hide it and we are used to labeling everything vulnerable as feminine.

He also doesn't really do anything feminine-labeled in a characteristic female way. He isn't really in contact with his emotions (despite having a lot of them), him caring about people takes the form of "protector and provider". his cooking... have you seen his cooking? He doesn't look for support and doesn't try to build things that last. He doesn't accept his vulnerability. If anything, he's trying to pretend he has no vulnerabilities and maybe no psyche at all. He's self-sacrificing in a very male way too. Because he was there and because he could and because it's a cool thing to do.

So he's just that. Himself. Someone outside of gender.

(or rather his gender is knightcore)

If we perceive him as feminine it says more about how our culture perceives gender than about who Childe is.

Also, quoting my previous post, it's a part of him being full of contradictions. For every thing that he does he also does the exact opposite, and this holds for gender too.

Yes he lives the male power fantasy. He also does it in an incredibly feminine way. I think this was Hoyo's original intention and then it blossomed into this human disaster we see.

And to end up on a joke, surely you all have seen that leaked art that is theorised to be Skirk but could have also been an early design of Childe before Hoyo decided to make him a guy.

#any gender is a wound #men are wounded by rules that are too strict #women by the violent lack of sense in the world #some of us by both of those #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact #I also think that's why nb folks are sometimes seen as flavours of being female #because male gender is so restrictive #so everything that doesn't fit into it is perceived as female by the broad public

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perfectsunlight · 1 year

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(𝟓𝟎) - 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

24 hours before

yu jimin didn’t believe in soulmates.

it never made sense to her. in the billions of people in the world, how was someone supposed to magically find the person that was predestined for them?

after jimin met you, she started to believe in the idea of a soulmate.

maybe it was her age, or maybe it was how deeply she fell in love, but as childish as it seemed, yu jimin suddenly felt like she had found refuge for her soul in you.

except, she didn’t really remember the first time she felt that way.

was it the first time she snuck into your bedroom after curfew?

“jimin be quiet!” you whispered, biting back a laugh as you watched the taller girl struggle to climb through your dorm window. it was quite a funny sight, seeing her struggle to not accidentally send her foot through the glass window of the room below yours.

jimin’s eyes narrowed at you. you seemed to be finding quite the entertainment in her suffering. “do you not see that im trying to be?” she huffed before pulling herself into your room.

you snickered softly, leaning up and picking a few leaves out of her black hair. “you look ridiculous right now.”

the taller girl rolled her eyes before cupping your face in her hands. “i climbed like two trees to come see you and the first thing you do is insult me?”

“in my defense, i never told you to climb those trees.” you replied in a whisper, grinning up at your girlfriend.

the older girl only pouted. recently she had found herself wanting to see you more and more, always frustrated that you two never spent enough time together. (even though you always spend literally every single day together in classes or outside of them.)

which led to her climbing two tress in the middle of the night and fitting through your window so she could see you.

“i missed you, is that such a crime?” she pouted at you.

as you saw the sight of your girlfriend pouting, you could only smile and lean in to kiss her.

“i missed you too.”

was it the first time you two argued?

you ran a hand through your hair, frustration coursing through your veins as you looked at your girlfriend from across her room. jimin pressed her lips in a tight line as she stared at the ceiling, feeling just as frustrated as you were.

the whole reason you two were fighting in the first place was because she had gotten in trouble for being out of her dorm past curfew last night.

she was leaving your dorm, of course, and was caught by one of the senior trainees who was coming back from the practice room.

your girlfriend lied and came up with a lame excuse and got let off the hook, but you couldn’t help but get frustrated with her. it was dangerous for you two to be dating, and yet jimin was risking it even more by sneaking in and out of your room every night.

“you can’t keep coming over every night, jimin.” you reasoned, but your raven haired girlfriend was not having it. she bit the inner part of her cheek, trying her best to not yell at you.

jimin didn’t want to argue with you. this was the first “real” argument you two had, and she did not want it to last more than it had to.

but she was frustrated beyond words. she missed you, she craved your presence every single moment of the day. it was hard for her to go through the motions of the day without seeing you.

“why not?” she said firmly, taking a few steps in front before reaching you. “i barely see you now that you got moved to other classes. all i am doing is seeing you, why is that such a crime?”

your bright eyes met the taller girl’s as you exhaled through your nose. you reached your hand out gently, motioning for her to hold it.

the latter did just so, holding your hand gently in yours as she felt all the frustration disappear once your skin made contact with hers.

“i miss you a lot, but i still see you whenever i can. i know it isn’t ideal, but we can make it work without risking it even more.” you explained gently, but all the older girl could focus on was the way your lips moved.

you kept trying to explain to your girlfriend. “i’m tired of hiding too, trust me. but this is just temporary, okay?”

she slowly leaned in, not hearing a word of what you were saying, and just pressed her lips against yours in a soft kiss.

for a moment, you two both forgot why you were arguing in the first place. everything just melted away.

her lips remained on yours for a few moments before she pulled away.

“im sorry for getting upset at you. you are just trying to help.”

your hands rested on her cheeks, thumbs brushing her skin as you gave her a small smile.

“im sorry for getting upset, too.”

or was it the first time she told you she loved you?

the autumn leaves fell and crunched beneath jimin’s feet as she held your hand. you two were strolling around the park on your night off.

you had just had a quick dinner date at your favorite restaurant, celebrating your anniversary together.

your connected hands swung as the both of you walked, and jimin could not help but smile at the sight of you so happy.

it was in that moment that jimin realized that she always wanted to see you happy. forever.

she slowly moved to a stop, a soft breeze blowing in between you two as she pulled you into her arms.

the taller girl felt your chest vibrating as you chuckled, and it only made her arms around your waist pull you closer.

“someone’s feeling clingy,” you said softly into her neck. jimin only shrugged, a faint smile adorning her lips as she silently agreed with you.

it was true. she was acting more clingy than usual tonight, but it only solidified the feelings she felt for you.

it was a clear night, and a full moon. jimin loved the moon, she thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

but the moon was nothing compared to you.

“you’re quiet for once. everything okay?” your head poked up from her chest, and she pressed a kiss to your forehead with a small hum.

from the cheesy romance films she had watched with you, ningning, minjeong, and aeri, she thought she would feel more nervous about saying the words to you.

she thought she would be sweating and shaking like a wet dog, crying and screaming in the rain somewhere or standing outside of your window with a boombox.

but she felt so comfortable, so complete with you. that is how she knew she truly felt this way about you. it was because of you, that she felt these feelings. she would never feel this way towards anyone else.

because you completed her.

in the nights of moonlight, and in the brightest of days, jimin only saw you.

she cupped your face, leaning in close to you. the chill of the autumn wind blew her hair to the side and she moved strands of yours behind your ear.

however, before your lips met, she whispered against your mouth in the softest tone you had ever heard from her.

“i’m in love with you.”

your cheeks were tinted with a shade of red, and your heart fluttered at the words she spoke. you never thought jimin would feel this way for you.

and you never thought that you would feel the same way about her.

before you could reply to her, jimin pressed her lips against yours in a tender kiss. it was a moment of true passion between two girls who knew nothing more than each other.

and you both seemed to be okay with that. because you had jimin, and she had you.

she pulled away once air became an issue, but in her breathless voice, she still whispered one final thing to you.

“i love you, choi y/n.”

and all you could do is smile, because you knew she meant it.

“i love you too, yu jimin.”

after you left her, jimin didn’t believe in soulmates anymore. how cruel could the universe be to bring you two together, only to tear you both apart?

she despised the idea of being with anyone else other than you. jimin didn’t want to love anyone else.

she only ever loved you.

maybe now that you are back in her life, jimin doesn’t believe in soulmates, but rather, true love.

true love is unconditional love, and she unconditionally loved you.

maybe that was why she had stood outside of the back of your dorm building right now at 3 in the morning.

she had texted you to see if you were awake about an hour ago, and you had agreed to sneak out and go for a walk with her because she couldn��t sleep either.

which why was the two of you were now walking side by side, slowly talking and enjoying each other’s company at this hour of the night.

the crescent moon shone brightly through the clouds, casting white light over the shadows. jimin’s silhouette looked closer to yours, and from the angle you two were walking at, it looked like your shadows were holding hands.

she missed holding your hand.

jimin missed you.

“you’re quiet for once. is everything okay?”

“i need to tell you something.” jimin interrupted you, a faint tint of pink on her cheeks as she stopped walking and stared at you intently.

your head tilted to the side as your brows furrowed slightly. your undivided attention was on her now, and no longer the cracks in the sidewalk.

“what is it? you can tell me anything.”

for the first time in years, jimin felt nervous. the idol felt her heart pounding in her ears, the blood was rushing to her head as she stood in front of you.

the taller girl’s hand slowly held yours, your fingers interlocking in a gentle hold. you didn’t pull away, and tried your best to ignore the blush growing on your own face.

“from the moment we met as just kids, i knew you were someone special, y/n.” jimin said slowly, breathing labored as she tried not to stumble over her words. “and now that we’re older, that hasn’t changed.”

time felt like it was slowing down, and all you could focus on was the SM artist in front of you.

karina took in a deep breath before continuing. “we’re a thousand miles away from the day we met, but im standing here with you just trying to be honest.”

she pulled you closer to her, one hand still holding yours and the other hand holding your waist.

“if honesty means telling you the truth…” jimin whispered as her body was the closest it had been to you in a very, very long time. “...i’m still in love with you.”

your heart felt like it was going to explode in your chest, but you didn’t know that jimin’s was already beating a thousand times faster.

it honestly took you a while to formulate a response in your head, but jimin took your silence as something negative.

she let go of your hand and cupped your face, pulling it closer to hers. your foreheads rested against each other, and it was then that you finally realized it.

jimin was crying.

“i’ll make it up to you, for everything that went wrong in the past. let’s just go back to the basics, just focusing on how we feel for each other.” the older girl’s eyelashes sparkled with tears in the moonlight as she squeezed her eyes shut. “it’s killing me to deny it any longer. i know how i feel for you, and it hasn’t changed at all since the moment you left me.”

she opened her eyes to look at you, tears falling down her cheeks as she stared into your own watery gaze “...tell me you want this, please. say something, anything…” she whispered against your lips.

you closed the distance, letting your lips do the talking for you.

it felt like the entire world was fading, and the only thing you could focus on was how jimin felt. you wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you. tears of relief, of pure pent up emotion fell from both of your eyes.

the kiss felt like the end of your past, and the beginning of your future, all at once.

you finally pulled away from each other once your lungs were burning, and as you two were panting against each other, you finally spoke.

“you talk too much.”

and all jimin could do was smile, and kiss you again.

┊┊┊┊⋆ ✧　　 · 　 ✧　✵ ┊┊┊☆ *　　 * ⋆ ┊┊★ * ┊┊* . *　✦ ┊☆ ° ✧　　 · ★*

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @captivq , @wonyoluvr , @yunalvrrr , @spritin , @babycubchae , @vnschldd , @sserafimez , @chaersly , @rosiehrs , @baldd , @bwljules , @jenaissantesworld , @jennasluma , @dream-chasers-things , @lcv3lies , @elyds , @archerheejin , @vnschldd , @skisk1 , @cfvgbhndun-new-blog , @silantryoo , @phamminji , @bzeus28 , @writingficsblog , @strangegirlcode , @uzumakioden , @noiacha , @sserabey , @archerheejin , @pindoris , @yourstrulytrissmerigold , @jisooftme , @yacii , @ddrummie , @justalittledissociation

[ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 ]

#smau #kpop #kpop smau #aespa #lesserafim #yunjin x reader #aespa x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin #karina x reader #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #about you #perfectsunlight

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the-amazing-wonderss · 10 months

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hihi!! i hope both of ur guys day is going good! This is my first time requesting so im a little nervous i read ur rules over like ten times (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) can u pls do Kou, Nene, and Hanako reading their s/o a bedtime story >w< ty in advance :3

A/N: Omg hihi its been awhile since we last posted but we're here and alive still~!! Oh and also If it makes you feel any better, this is actually our first ask 😭??? So we're really excited and decided to have both of us write for it, aren't you a lucky anon?! Anyways I hope you like it! ⎯ Mod ☠️ Omg...a request...Hello! ^^ We added Mitsuba to the list, I felt like a silly fella while writing for him. His brain makes me insane. ANYWAY, I actually didn't write angst. I can't remember the last time I did that. Enjoy~ ⎯ Mod👻 (if tumblr eats this again, I will cry)

Content: Fluff, slight angst if you squint in Hanako and Mitsuba's part, no gender mention for reader aside from the word 'prince' and 'princess' being used. Summary: Reading their s/o a bedtime story

Characters: Nene, Hanako, Mitsuba, Kou

A story about a girl who gets saved by her prince, not in an ideal way like she wanted it to be, but nonetheless, still fell for them anyways. ⎯ Once upon a time I had my eyes set out for a fairytale of my own, wanting to feel like a hopeless romantic with the person of my dreams. But to think that the person I've been dreaming of was actually beside me this whole time... Perhaps instead of me, it was them that was hopeless in the end.

It was during when you stayed over at her house and weren't able to sleep, that she suggested she'd tell you some of the latest stories she's been reading about. Some that you've already heard of (either from her already mentioning it before or seeing it in the media) while others not so much.

When NENE talks about her stories she's very enthusiastic about it. Happy to even have someone listening to her rant on and on about something she's been dying to talk about for awhile, but it's even more special when it's her S/O ⎯ especially if they were the ones to ask her first before she even got the chance to herself.

Her stories lean more towards romance for obvious reasons. Loving the tropes to the story is one thing, but another would be because of how she likes to imagine herself in those sort of scenarios. Embarrassed to even admit it out loud, though it's already clear why she likes them so much.

And although at first she was telling the stories to you to get you to fall asleep, it sometimes ends with you staying up a little later due to her getting a tad bit carried away.

Oh but if you do end up falling asleep right before her? You won't ever see or hear about it, unless you were pretending to be asleep, but Nene is definitely the type to give you a shy goodnights kiss. Feeling brave only because you were asleep, but if not, she'd totally cover her face as she fumes at how embarrassing it is to get caught in her sly act.

A story about a commoner boy who had a princess that loved him dearly, despite his backstory and everything he deemed as 'unworthy' of their love, nothing ⎯ not even his words, could sway their view of him. ⎯ Time and time again you run and hide from me. Behind that wall of doubt and insecurities there's something that you clearly don't see in yourself that I adore so much. When will you finally come to terms and see things my way? Love yourself as much as I love you.

It's weird how you decided to nap in the bathroom. Especially his bathroom where he's poking you constantly until you tell him off.

When HANAKO is reading you a story, he has you sleeping and leaning against his shoulder. His hand occasionally shifting your head back in place when he notices you nodding off or about to fall, or maybe even just doing it to use it as an excuse to pat your head ⎯ who knows? Clearly not you.

But the types of stories Hanako tends to read to you depends entirely on his mood. Whenever he's feeling like a jokester, he'd tell you horror stories just to see your scared reaction as you cling onto him ⎯ or when he's feeling a little solemn, he'd tell the sort of fairytale that ends with bad endings to them.

Differing between those two genres the most. But on the more rarer occasions, does he switch it up to something else.

Something odd, something you wouldn't even expect from him. Something ... that perhaps convey how he really feels but is too afraid to admit it out loud? It honestly depends up to you to actually catch onto it. If not? Then you probably won't ever hear that story again from him.

A story where a ghost finds a human and wishes to stand by their side ⎯ A story where death will not part them, for they belong together. ⎯ I keep thinking that I could be good enough for you - that you could love me as more than 'friends', maybe I am a bit selfish for thinking this. Not that I could ever say it to your face.

Someone decided to be nice today and bless you with a sleepover!! At your own house of course.

MITSUBA didn't plan on reading to you but you told him a few stories of your own. He wasn't sure why he did it. Perhaps it was the smile on your face every time you started reading to him, so he returned the favor.

He wasn't sure what to read until he came up with his own idea. A short story about a ghost, since he knew that firsthand. A story with a ghost about falling in love with a human, a story he...

As he told the story, he could see your smile slowly disappear, almost as if you realized he was the ghost in the story.

"The ghost never told them how he felt."

And that was the last thing he said before being engulfed in your arms. He knew this feeling - he's felt it before. That warm feeling.

The feeling of love.

The feeling of an old memory.

A story where the knight doesn't get the girl ⎯ oh...I guess this is a different ending. A story where the knight gets the prince, and they live a happy life. ⎯ I didn't change the ending! This is how it was meant to be! I...I suppose if you prefer for the knight to not fall for the prince then...Huh? You liked it?!

KOU brought a book of short stories over to your house. He was super excited to be able to stay the night.

Unfortunately for him, you had the same book and it just so happened to be your favorite!

Kou told the story as it was written for a bit.

Until he got to the end.

The story was meant to end with the prince marrying a princess but Kou couldn't bring himself to say it. Perhaps it was because he was never the prince. He was always second.

But it seemed that you didn't mind. It does get a bit boring reading the same story over and over again, and you did like listening to Kou talk.

"I'm...really happy you liked it." He says, almost struggling to get the words out as you blush and smile.

Maybe this really was his story, and that's why he rewrote the ending. Well, you can't say it's impossible for that ending to happen.

#☠️#👻#TBHK x reader #toilet bound hanako kun x reader #Nene x reader #Yashiro Nene x reader #Kou x reader #Minamoto Kou x reader #Hanako x reader #Hanako kun x reader #Mitsuba x reader #Mitsuba Sousuke x Reader

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demonslayedher · 5 months

Text

Things that went through my head while watching this episode: --Herein lies the biggest irony about Hantengu: His transformation into something reminiscent of a Buddhist deity; the sort of fierce and menacing kind that uses violence for justice. Zouhakuten is as convinced of his own righteousness as much as Hantengu is convinced of his own self-pity, and this is what Tanjiro is unable to stomach about him. Tanjiro cares about the strong defending the weak, so it's not just all the lives Hantengu has stolen, it's his blasphemy that makes him hate him.

--In a Kimetsu Kindergarten AU, I want to see Tanjiro and Rui and Zouhakuten all get into schoolyard arguments all the time.

--For as much as I've been appreciating the irony of Hantengu this time around, I do not consider myself well-versed enough in Buddhist iconography to do any detailed analysis of Zouhakuten's character design and name (yet), but suffice to this: The tengu references in Ki-Do-Ai-Raku's designs also borrow from the attire used in practicing Shugendo, because tengu are often depicted as and associated with Shugendo practitioners. Shugendo is a mountain ascetic religion with multiple influences, including Buddhist, and Zouhakuten looks like the sort of deity Shugendo practitioners might encounter in the mountains.

--But if anyone in this episode lives up to the Shugendo ideal, it is Haganezuka. That Taisho Secret with his extreme physical and spiritual preparation? That's what I mean, right there. That hyperfocus, though? If I were to diagnose one character in this series as neurodivergent, it is Haganezuka-san, and that maybe be part of where he gets his hyperfocus. Still, it's built into the plot that he prepared to put his life on the line for this endeavor, so I also give him credit for having also practiced spiritual mastery! For when it counts, anyway. Swords are the only time when it counts.

--Muichiro--both physically and spiritually-- was very vividly saved by Kotetsu's actions, but Haganezuka also deserves credit for having been the perfect person to exploit Gyokko's weakness--his pride as an artist. (You get a 'you tried' gold star, Kanamori-san--for now, because the sword you smithed saves the day later. Truly, everyone's actions are important!).

--Might I just say--OWWWW, Kotetsu's solar plexus might not have been punctured, but that's gotta hurt. And speaking of getting punctured, MUICHIRO FELL FLAT ON THOSE NEEDLES HE STILL HAD STUCK TO THE FROM OF HIM, OW OW OW OW OW OW OW

--The fact that Rengoku-san's tsuba was what saved Kotetsu is another why reason I really, really wanna see Senjuro and Kotetsu become penpals

--I like that even though Tanjiro and Mr. Tokito have a resemblance, Mr. Tokito sounds like a dad. But Tanjiro has so many bags around his eyes in comparison--Mr. Tokito is so much better rested! I guess he's resting in peace.

--I love this bitter side of Muichiro. It's not simply that he picked up a sharp tongue from Yuichiro, but instead, a utilitarian outlook on the world that makes him quick to judge others--or himself--as incapable. Mr. Tokito's words really were such gentle and chiding guidance. I wonder what Yuichiro's reaction to their dad was if he ever tried to have a similar teaching moment with him?

--Jumping back to the first half of this episode, making Tanjiro and Genya barely able to stand under the pressure of Zouhakuten is, well, sort of a convenient way of portraying "look he is powerful" and "now we have the hero converse with a demon." It's not quite as memorable as other times this happens in the series, but it is a signature part of KnY for this to happen.

--Another big difference between Tanjiro and Genya, at least in displaying their potential as Pillars (which Genya agonizingly recognized in the previous episode that he doesn't possess), is that while Genya spend a lot of time thinking "WTF!? W... T... F?!? WTF!!! WTFWTFWTFWTF!!!" Tanjiro is already back to rolling with the new situation. The fact that Tanjiro wasn't killed instantly by those wooden serpents was because he possessed the peace of mind to grab on and use his chances and move around to where there were pockets of safety. If Genya were in that position, he'd probably just take the hit and then flop around until his body regenerates. Likewise, Tanjiro's ability to sense unique demons, their locations, and how powerful they are is something he has continually developed, so he had a general idea how Zouhakuten came to be, but Genya needed to witness it. Again, like started in the last episode, Genya deserves a lot of credit for how hard he's worked and how much more he's able to do than just munch. Even in demon mode here, he mostly uses demon mode for the regenerative ability, and for offense he still reloads his gun and holds onto his broken blade.

--Nezuko, girl, you too. Just charging in and sacrificing limbs without a thought. Girl, you have gotten too used to this freaky regenerative speed of yours and the whole Corp sure is lucky most demons never achieve that.

--Again, I'm not a shipper, but I am tickled by the idea of reframing things with a Genya x Aizetsu angle (probably just one-sided infatuation, or even that they are exes but Aizetsu is still in love). After all, Genya knows Aizetsu's name, but didn't use the names of the other demons! Ohohoho! That sure adds more meaning to Genya witnessing Aizetsu's final moments of terror! (For the record, I do not see any of this in canon; it is simply funny.)

#KnY Rewatch #my art #Gyokko #kanamori #haganezuka hotaru

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bunniekittiee · 7 months

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Im a bit out of loop with the Johnny updates on his lore and his VA conflicts as well. Im just reading what others are posting about his (possible) new character lore and how they feel about it. Especially about the necrophiliac claims.

Like obviously Johnny isn’t innocent, I think we all understand that he has his issues and he is a product of his environment, i just wish GUN would focus on that rather than made wild ass character lore about him being a necrophiliac.

The only reason why they are possibly making that a part of Johnny’s character background is to make him seem more “darker” and the psychotic one of the family. That he’s evil enough to engage in such acts. It doesn’t fit his character at all. I’ve written a few fics and headcanons about him and yes, I’ve explored the darker side of it but necrophiliac is seriously out of character for him. Nubbins and Chop Top? Yeah I could see that, but Johnny? No.

I don’t use Twitter so I haven’t seen any discourse about those supporting his character changes; but the claim “well he’s a serial killer so of course he’s going to engage in not so great activity” is not reliable. Why cant we just leave it at the fact that he’s a cannibal and a serial killer? Maybe even abusive? Do we really need more irredeemable qualities added to someone who already is bad as it is?

I wish we would get more information and lore about his backstory and how he was raised as a kid. What made him sadistic. That is what I’m interested in and I would rather hear about that than what they are giving us currently.

And they are so inconsistent with their lore and work. It’s frustrating and hard to keep up with.

I haven’t played TCM in about 2 months since my PS4 data corrupted and I haven’t kept up with the fandom in a little bit. So maybe there is more lore about his childhood that I don’t know about or about him in general, but I do not support the necrophiliac claims. We all have our boundaries with our favorite characters and i know he’s a POS as it is but this one is ridiculous.

Either way, im not writing him as a necrophiliac and im going to pretend that it doesn’t exist. It’s gross, it doesn’t fit his character, and i dont like it. Plain and simple. It’s bad character development and claims. They are not doing Johnny any justice by adding that onto him.

And yeah, I’ve seen other people’s discussions that the fandom is watering down Johnny and they “fell in love with the pretty boy” but it’s a fictional character. You believe what you want, and other people will believe what they want. No one has to support the necrophiliac claims. That’s why there’s many different fictional standpoints of the characters we like. Just like people believe Vincent Sinclair was manipulated by his brother Bo and others believe Vincent was just as bad as Bo. We all have different beliefs and character idealizations in our head of our favorite characters.

#texas chainsaw game #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny tcm game #johnny slaughter #tcm johnny #johnny sawyer

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onewholivesinloops · 11 months

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shion's relationship with the houjou siblings will always be one of the most fascinating aspects of higurashi to me and it's just so heartbreaking in how tragic it is bc it's shion projecting her own anger and trauma onto their relationship, and she does that bc she sees herself in both of them - satoko, the one who always causes trouble and is treated as a burden for her behavior and is even told she deserves her abuse, and satoshi, the one who's constantly struggling to fix and improve things, even as it's wearing him down.

she also sees her dynamic with mion in them. shion talks at some point about how mion always comes crying to her when something goes wrong in her life (e.g. keiichi hurting her with his insensitivity and not giving her the doll) and she's the only person mion trusts enough to open up to like this, but there's also resentment there, bc when shion needed mion the most, mion wasn't there for her (shion going through torture and having her nails torn off by the sonozakis as punishment with mion just watching (we can see that mion really is powerless in the face of her family but anger and trauma aren't always rational and it's understandable that shion feels abandoned by her sister)).

satoko's dynamic with satoshi is reminiscent of this bc satoshi is always defending satoko from abuse as she hides behind him, so shion basically turns satoshi into everything she feels they can't be, everything she wishes her and mion were, and turns satoko into everything she loathes about herself and mion.

it's such a tragic dynamic bc shion is a victim of abuse who feels trapped in a horrible situation and sees no way out for herself after having had the person she considers a symbol of all of her hopes taken away from her which is why she pushes all the blame for that onto satoko due to the trauma warping her worldview.

shion has been simmering for a long time so when satoshi disappeared, her fragile mental state fell apart completely bc satoshi was the only hope she had left for herself and now she's lost it all. satoshi was living proof that, maybe, she can be okay one day and now that he's gone she has no reason to believe that anymore. it's like being told she can't have anything good for herself, and it's part of the reason she ends up lashing out at mion for taking away the 'mion' name from her. shion has only ever felt like things get stolen from her, which is why she rationalizes the trauma of being separated from her twin sister this way.

it's very complicated bc satoshi is the ideal of the older sibling shion wishes she could be, but he's also the older sibling who's always suffering for the younger one (which is what shion feels she is), and shion hates herself so she doesn't feel justified to act on her resentment unless it's for someone else's sake and satoshi being the ideal he is makes him the perfect object to project those feelings onto.

satoshi is also always putting on a strong front for satoko's sake so his pain goes under the radar, even though he's someone who needs help so badly. this is why shion, who feels as though her own pain isn't recognized by others around her, wants to be the one to see satoshi's pain.

satoshi and shion are both not 'seen', so shion tries to see satoshi with the hope that he'll see her in return.

shion always wanted to be seen, it's why she's so desperate for rena to realize that she's not mion at the end of meakashi and is disappointed when rena doesn't.

shion remembering satoshi's promise in minagoroshi and subsequent fragments isn't her protecting satoko purely for satoshi's sake, it's shion realizing that her and satoko are intertwined in their personal and emotional struggles, as young girls who want to be accepted and loved without the terrible restraints placed upon them by the adults and systems around them that have constantly failed and abused them, so shion takes it upon herself to provide satoko with what she's been robbed off her entire life, with the hope she can protect satoko a little bit from any further hurt and find some healing together.

it's shion breaking the cycle of abuse she perpetuated in meakashi bc she realizes that taking it out on satoko wouldn't solve anything and wouldn't be fair to satoko.

the bond between two girls who have been treated as unwanted and told they shouldn't have been born by the very people who should've protected them from the cruelty of the world is such a special kind of bond.

shion and satoko are so good. meakashi is also so good. look at them please.

#higurashi #gamo.txt

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lopposting · 4 months

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combining the most recent theories including your last beautifully written post, i now believe that Carlo, upon learning the disease could make him slowly waste away and have an agonising demise, eventually chose to leave on his own terms by drowning or by practically taking on a nearly suicidal mission around the days of the attack at the Charity House

@mahirublue

[long post - also btw thank you to ppl responding :D ]

So, I've noticed that there is this seam around Nameless' neck.

I initially thought the implication was that Geppetto had removed and reattached the head to access whatever parts he needed to get to.

But I'm actually wondering if maybe he fell from somewhere, considering how he is positioned when we find him.

[I've also had the thought that maybe he isn't even dead in this scene?? but her manner really doesn't seem that way, it's awful bedside manner, for one]

Honestly this all started as more of a crack theory, but now I'm actually wondering if it's actually true. Mostly just because - there seems to be no real reason why we don't seem to know how Carlo died. Like, they went through all this trouble to show us all of this. But if it involved something that, again, is kind of taboo, I can see the story wanting to imply something like that without explicitly having to show it

The thing is, Gemini seems to have stayed behind with Carlo, and I don't really think he woulda let some kid off himself under his watch. (although, I guess that is kind of what happened anyway)

Maybe it'll be answered in the DLC, maybe it'll never be answered, or maybe this entire thing was all nothing to begin with!

[And then there's also the entire relic of trismisgestus trismesgistus tirestmegest- (cant spell) thing with gemini.]

@ideas-on-paper

More thoughts on this!! -

Yes, so at that point, Carlo had already been "rejected" by his father. so I can imagine that affecting him badly. [It's also reminding me of the other lore bit of Simon being rejected by his own father ("A father is like god to his son")]

On top of that:

So, I really love the interpretation about the Carlo at the end not being Carlo but Geppetto's ideal version of carlo.

If Carlo really was so unhappy while he was alive, or died by suicide, I don't know, I think it puts a really sad spin on the end carlo smile and how Giuseppe makes his ideal Carlo "happy" in the end

Also, I just recently found the dialogue of antonia actually talking about the BRB painting, which I had NO IDEA existed. It was like the first time I saw that (it was her saying something like "how much Geppetto must've missed you")

I used to think along the lines of "geppetto doesnt want love he wants control", which I still do think is true. But now I'm starting to feel that - even with all his evil - he really did love his son. (That does NOT mean he can't also be a bad parent or a bad person.)

Your Father, who cares about you more than anyone

#lies of p #lies of p spoilers #ask #joyloa #tw suicide #tw hanging #liesofp #speculation #theory #carlo #tw death #lop

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strangerthings-01 · 2 years

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could you write something like jealousy jealousy again? 🥺 it felt so real. like having a relationship issue with eddie but with a happy ending

Anger issues

Omg absolutely! You are the first person to send me a request so im excited ahhhh. I love the stories where it shows real shit happening and people figuring it out. It gives love and respect so yes I will write something similar. Hope you like it! And again, feel free to send me requests. I love writing and want to make a reality for you guys and a safe place!

Summary: Eddie is frustrated because he can’t find his hellfire shirt for the club and he blows up at you when you try to help causing tension that turns into a sweet confession.

Involves: verbally fighting, cussing, angst then romance and fluff

—🔥—🔥 —🔥—🔥 —🔥—🔥 —🔥—🔥 —🔥—🔥

It was a normal Tuesday night, one where you sat in Eddie’s bed reading one of his ferocious comics while he prepped for the hellfire club that was held at his trailer. It wasn’t the most ideal place but during the summer, it’s not like they could hold it during school and they didn’t want to get behind on the game. Lord, that would be a nightmare and not just for them.

You were just flipping the page to start the next part of the comic when you heard Eddie yell out. “Fuck! Where is it!?” You placed the comic on the bed, pages down to hold your place and called out to him in the living room. “You okay Ed’s?” He groaned and burst into the room, slightly startling you. He seemed on edge and it concerned you considering he was typically calm about stuff.

“No I’m not okay. My club is in 1 hour and I can’t find my fucking shirt. Will you get up so I can look in the bed?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t think it’s gonna be-“ you stopped short when he glared at you and you pursed your lips and stood up. He flipped the covers up and around everywhere but still the shirt was missing. The comic fell to the floor from all the tossing of the blankets and he let out a string of curse words. “Okay okay. Hey we’re gonna find it. Just retrace your steps baby.” He scoffed and looked at you, the look of ‘are you dumb’ etched across his face. “No really? You don’t think I’ve tried that?”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself knowing he was just projecting his frustration. “Okay you don’t have to be an ass. I’m just trying to help.” He threw his hands up and let them fall, hitting his legs with a smack sound. “If you want to help, start looking please. I don’t want to talk. I want to find the damn shirt. You telling me it’s gonna be okay doesn’t help me find out where it is.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t say another word as you started looking. You knew he would apologize as soon as he found it but it still wasn’t okay and that would for sure be a conversation they would have. You lifted up thrown clothes and objects but found nothing. You knew it was here though because you had just washed it not too long ago and you were the only reason this place was organized.

You made him wash his clothes frequently because he tended to wear the same clothes on a daily basis and it grossed you out. The only reason the shirt would be gone is if Eddie moved out looking for another article of clothing because you always kept it in the same place knowing he had his clubs.

“I just washed the shirt not too long ago. Have you checked drawers?” His eyes shot up and a look of anger crossed his features. “Why do you never tell me when you wash my clothes? You know I don’t like when you just organize shit and don’t tell me where things are…”He huffed. You raised your eyebrows, hands going on hips. “Maybe because I’m the only one who ever cleans around here. You just throw shit everywhere and wonder why you can’t find it. I always keep it in the same place Eddie. Not my fault you move shit.”

“Okay fuck you Y/N. I’m perfectly fine with how I live. No one asked you to do shit and no one wants you to. So honestly just fucking leave if you’re gonna be a bitch. Because I’m fucking done with it!” He finally snapped, his voice raising. You flinched at his words, knowing he knew how deeply words like that affected you. Your throat closed up as your tried to keep your tears in but one managed to escape. You cleared your throat and grabbed your stuff, not even bothering to look at him.

Eddie seemed to understand to the full extent of what he just said and cursed under his breath, eyes shutting tightly. He got angry when frustrated and he knew he needed to get help for but because how he acted was not okay. You were so good to him and he could be such an ass. God he was an idiot. “Wait fuck no don’t go. I didn’t mean that.”

You scoffed softly, sniffing as you wiped another tear. “I kinda think you did but it’s cool. Hope you find the shirt.” You brushed past him, avoiding eye contact. He was quick to grab you wrist and pull you back to him. “Hey hey I’m sorry Y/N. I really didn’t mean it baby girl. I know I have an anger issue and I know I get angry when frustrated and I take it out on other people and it’s fucked up. I plan to work on it and get help but it doesn’t excuse shit. I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him and shrugged. “I appreciate you apologizing but that wasn’t just you projecting or letting anger out. You called me names and told me to leave. That’s not accidental.” You bit your lip, feeling it quivering. He shook his head and gulped, the nerves working their way up inside his body. He was scared he royally fucked up. Scared you were gonna end it right there.

“I know I know. And fuck I’m so so so fucking sorry. I know it’s not accidental but I didn’t mean it. You’re not a bitch. God you could never be. You’re the sweetest woman on this planet and I don’t deserve you and I understand that. I will cancel the club tonight and do something with you to make it up. I know it’s gonna take more than an apology but please let me.” He bit his lip this time, clearly out of nervousness and you sighed, looking away.

“I don’t know…” he cupped your cheeks with his hands and turned your head so you would look him on the eye. He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs and looked down at you softly. “I love you.” You gasped softly and your breath then got caught in your throat. “W-what?” Those three words you had been dying to hear finally escaped his lips and it was like you couldn’t fully process that you were hearing it.

“I love you Y/N. I know this isn’t the most ideal situation to be expressing this right now but it’s the only way I can explain how sorry I am. Because I love you and I’m willing to prove it to you.” You let out a soft crying sound and leaned up, kissing him with zero hesitation. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back with the same energy. His hands trailed up your backs and back down trying to feel you. You pulled back after a couple seconds and smiled. “I love you too…so much eddie.” He sighed in relief and rested his hands on your waist. “Good because I’m cancelling the club tonight and we’re gonna watch your favorite movie and get your favorite take out, on me. And when we find that stupid shirt, I’m gonna put it on your sexy ass.”

You giggled and played with the hem of his shirt. “Sounds like a plan to me.” He chuckled but then got serious again. “Seriously though Y/N. I really am sorry for how I acted and what I said. I need to work on myself and I’m ready to do that. With you by my side I hope.” You looked at him softly and nodded. “Of course I’ll be by your side baby. All I want is for you to be happy and if me being here does that, then I’m here as long as I’m welcome.”

He shook his head and a smirk came across his lips. “You speak so wise.” You laughed and held his hand. “Got it from my mom.” He kissed your head and held you in his arms, trying to remove all the tension he had created.

The rest of the night was spent watching stupid movies and eating from the local dinner. It was the perfect way to end the night and getting Eddie help for his issues were discussed and planned and you were so proud of him. He was a real one for accepting he needed the help and that was enough to keep you there. You fell asleep in his arms and all the worries left for the night.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #angst with a happy ending

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