#melancholy Friday morning thoughts

[asiananeurysm]

.

[fridayyy-13th]

me a few days ago: oh yknow what would be fun? writing a jmart new year's eve oneshot! i bet it'd be sweet and--

me at 3:13 am tonight, working on the second draft: wh. why is it angsty. why did i make them so sad. what the hell happened

[seeingivy]

long story short

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic

songs mentioned: saturn by sza, so american by olivia rodrigo, lover by taylor swift, good luck babe by chappell roan, margaret ft. bleachers by lana del ray, make you feel my love by adele, false god by taylor swift, only angel by harry styles, and long story short by taylor swift.

an: buckle in friends. songs and tweets and all :D

previous part linked here

six months later

The two of you decide that it would be smarter not to stay in the townhouse, for the time being. Because while Eren had bent backwards and forwards to buy the house without Levi noticing – which included paying a hefty tip to the realtors dealing with the sale – there was something too melancholy about staying there – and not having a plethora of voices echoing across the walls. 

Eren’s first plan – to stay in the cabin in Ireland that his parents owned – was your next best bet. And really, it was the quietest little patch of land, accompanied by what might be the coziest town you’ve ever been in – and it was every bit of perfect. 

The cabin was two stories and maybe the uniquest little house you’ve ever been in. With gold accents, a green kitchen, and what might be the prettiest garden –  it was almost far too easy to pretend that you and Eren had left the bright shimmering lights and camera flashes behind. 

Eren’s morning usually starts hours before yours – only because he insists that he has to run in the mornings to get a good start to the day. If you’re in a good enough mood, he’s able to coax you to come with him and the two of you choose to walk instead. Sometimes you wonder if Sukuna and Teddy talk about the same thing on their walks that you and Eren do. 

The neighbors are either too old to mention anything or perhaps too polite. Because they show up here and there, unassumingly with a fresh loaf of baked bread, that they simply couldn’t let go to waste. And their kids that you happen to see on holidays, their eyes linger for a little too long – almost like they’re trying to convince themselves that it really is the two of you – but never make a comment about if they ever do get the shred of confidence. 

There’s a kid, barely eleven, who brings homemade yogurt around on Friday, as an errand before he can go play with his friends. Sometimes Eren makes him late to his basketball games, because he finds himself lingering by the door too long, talking about things that are entirely lost to you. Though you should have figured as much, because Eren was always popular with the kids.

And you find a stray cat three months in – one that Eren lovingly names Milo. A tiny british shorthair, with light green eyes and white fur. Upon first inspection, you told Eren jokingly that you simply had to keep him, because he had Eren’s eyes. Eren took the joke a little too seriously, but the little diva that Milo ended up being always kept things interesting. 

The only thing annoying about the cabin is Eren’s placement of the furniture, specifically the well loved coffee table that, in your opinion, needed to be centered in the main room. And that’s only because every morning, you’d get your breath nearly knocked out of your chest when you walked straight into it. 

“You know, you need to move that goddamn coffee table.” you grumble, rubbing at the side of your hip. 

Eren looks over, before placing his hands on your hips and lifting you up onto the counter. It’s a lingering kiss that he presses to your knuckles, as you use your free hand to rub at your eyes, before looking over at the pan. 

“Connie’s on his way?” you ask. 

“An hour out.” Eren responds. 

“Okay, I’ll go set the clothes out. Anything specific you want?” 

“The green hoodie. That you stole and thought I didn’t notice.” Eren grates. 

You jump off the counter, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek, before padding back into the room and setting the clothes aside. And it’s only a few minutes before Eren’s at your side, giving you a half-appreciative smile for returning the hoodie. 

“Are you nervous? You know he’s going to have a meltdown right?”

Eren scoffs. 

“Serves him right for what he did. Walking around talking about his girlfriend – you know, I’m half convinced she doesn’t even exist, Y/N.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“He’s literally bringing her along. You should have at least told him I would be here so you know…he doesn’t have a heart attack or something.” 

The two of you took the idea of privacy too seriously. A little too serious, because now six months had passed and most of your friends didn’t even know you were together. And really, the two of you were very close to getting found out since you had an awards show to attend at the end of the month. 

If Eren was any bit as hopeless as the neighbors mentioned, they would have the two of you figured out within a split second. 

Levi and Hange knew, naturally. And then Colt and Falco, and by extension Gabi, since Falco seemingly could keep secrets, just not from her. And it extended out slowly – your parents, his and Zeke, Lana and Sukuna, and Jean and Mikasa. 

Lana and Sukuna was an accident. Because Eren had been calling Teddy and you accidentally walked in the background. Jean and Mikasa were similar and only because you accidentally let his name slip from your mouth when you called them after their honeymoon. 

The secret was well kept, but you knew the news was about to spread around to everyone, because Connie was about to find out, when he realized that you were living here with Eren during his little visit. 

“Well, it serves him right. He’s about to tell everyone we know. Because he’s going to have to tell Reiner, who will tell Annie who obviously can’t keep it from Armin and it’s just going to snowball from there.” Eren mutters. 

You shake your head at him, as the two of you pad out to the front where Eren’s left the plates of eggs steaming. You shuffle into your chair – making it a point to slam your notebook shut – and naturally, the gesture doesn’t get past Eren. 

“What are you writing?” Eren asks. 

“Nothing.”

Eren grins. 

“Are you writing a song about me?” Eren jokes. 

You roll your eyes. And Eren’s too quick with it – guising it by putting his arm around your waist – but he all but snatches the book from underneath your elbow. And he looks to you for confirmation before he starts flipping to the page he was looking for you can see the recognition clock on his face, before he looks over at you.

“Saturn, hm?” 

You take the book back from him, running your fingers over the inked lines and the tiny drawing in the corner. 

If karma's really real How am I still here? Just seems so unfair I could be wrong though If there's a point to being good Then where's my reward? The good die young and poor I gave it all I could

Stuck in this terradome All I see is terrible Making us hysterical There's got to be more, got to be more Sick of this head of mine Intrusive thoughts, they paralyze Nirvana's not as advertised There's got to be more, been here before

Ooh (ooh, ooh) Life's better on Saturn Got to break this pattern Of floating away Ooh (ooh, ooh) Find something worth saving It's all for the taking I always say

I'll be better on Saturn None of this matters Dreaming of Saturn, oh

It plagues Eren, in the smallest of ways. It was almost like he could tell that on certain days, the reality of it all seemed to wear you down, to the point where you really didn’t say too much and spent far too much time by yourself outside. He figured this is the closest he would get to really understanding what it was like for you, in the two years that you spent by yourself. 

And it does really bother him, that this is the only thing he can’t help you with. Because having six months of the still, quiet life gave you time to think, to really process everything that had happened. 

And it was chilling. Because it would almost be easier, if this wasn’t the only thing plaguing your mind. But he had asked you time and time again and the answer was always the same – that you didn’t have any regrets, about how the two of you came back together, the relationships that you repaired, or even the havoc you wrecked at the award shows. That really, they were all means to an end. 

But there was one regret you did have, and maybe in the cruelest of ways, it was the one you couldn’t put to rest in this lifetime – which was taking Marco for granted. 

The smaller things helped – the sweet stories about him in the two years you missed, the voicemail that Eren had gifted you at the funeral, and all the polaroids you pulled off the wall. But deep down, in the pit of your stomach, it was the only piece of it all that you hadn’t been able to rectify yet. 

“Yeah, Saturn.” you respond. 

“Have you given any thought to my offer?” Eren asks. 

You wrote songs about Marco often. And Eren read all of them, helping you work through piecing together the composition. But one of the songs – one you called Bigger Than The Whole Sky – seemed to concern Eren so much that he left a tiny little card on your pillow that night. 

With the number to his therapist. 

Eren doesn’t say much, only because he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears, and that sometimes with you – sometimes his hands in yours are the only thing that he can offer. And the quiet offer of the therapist he gave was more of a think piece for you – hoping that you’d at least give it a chance someday.

But the resolve of it all is quickly shattered when the doorbell rings – with Connie and his girlfriend behind the door. 

Eren sighs. 

“Are you ready for everyone to know our secret?” Eren asks. 

“No. And yes. I’m kind of just excited to watch him kind of have a meltdown.” 

Eren grins. 

“You and me both. I’ll go get him.” 

You pad into the kitchen, reaching for two empty dishes and plating the extra eggs for them as you hear Connie hollering at the door, and relish in the little wave of excitement that rises in your stomach. 

“Okay, well. I made breakfast so just kind of help yourselves. Do you need the bathroom?” Eren asks. 

“We’re good.” Connie responds 

Eren gives you a bright and glimmering two dimpled smile as he stops in the kitchen, before looking over at Connie who now looks like he’s some mix of constipated and fraught. 

“I made you guys some plates. I do hope you still like eggs, Connie, because we haven’t had a chance to do groceries lately.” you respond. 

Connie’s eye twitches as you give him a bright smile before walking closer and opening up your arms. And he’s almost too confused – because he barely hugs you back before turning to Eren. 

“What’s she doing here?” Connie asks. 

Eren smiles. 

“You’re not the only one with a secret girlfriend, Connie. Two can play that game.” Eren responds, as he takes the plates and gestures for Connie’s girlfriend to follow him to the main table. 

Connie pauses, before looking over at you. 

“You guys are pranking me, right? Because I didn’t tell you? Because that’s in no way funny.” Connie asks. 

You point to the polaroids pinned on the fridge – a mix of old and new – before turning back to him. 

“While we do love to mess with you, even we wouldn’t be that committed to a bit like this. Now come eat, you’ve had a long flight.” you respond. 

Contrary to your wishes, Connie, in fact, does not eat. He spends the first ten minutes staring the two of you down – to the point where it’s almost creepy – before asking you an insane amount of questions. 

When did you start dating? 

Or better yet, when are you getting married? 

How does it feel to be a traitor? 

And it’s only after an insane amount of questioning, before he slumps back down into his chair, before offering the two of you a sweet smile. 

“You’re really dating, right?” Connie asks. 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“That’s the tenth fucking time you’ve asked me that. I’m starting to think that it’s insulting – is it really that shocking to you that a pretty girl would date me?” Eren asks. 

Connie rolls his eyes right back. 

“Yeah, when that pretty girl spends her time being just as clueless as you.” Connie responds. 

You avert your gaze to your left, where Connie’s girlfriend – Maryam – is sitting and give her a smile. It’s one that she returns right back, before whispering underneath Connie and Eren’s bickering. 

“You’ll have to forgive him. This is a really big deal to him.” she mumbles. 

“Don’t worry, I’m well aware. He’s spent half of his young life trying to play cupid, I would only assume that it’s overwhelming to finally see your dreams come true.” 

She gives you a smile, as you elbow Eren in the side, and signal for him to stop. 

“Speaking of cupid, how did you and Connie meet?” you ask. 

It’s horribly bad timing – because the big sip of water she took goes immediately back in the glass as she gives Connie a weary glare. And he gives her a bright grin, before turning back to you. 

“See, it’s kind of funny. She –” 

“Connie!” she whispers. 

“What? You’re going to have to tell them eventually.” Connie responds. 

“Yeah, but I just met them. This is the kind of stuff you tell people years later, as in "haha want to know something crazy?” not like…two seconds after you meet them.” she whispers back. 

You and Eren turn to each other, giving each other a look, before turning back to Connie. 

“They won’t care, I promise.” Connie responds.

She gives him a weary look, before turning back to the two of you with wide, doe eyes. 

“Listen. I swear to god, I’m not a stalker. Y/N, I didn’t even know you were going to be here…and…and I didn’t even know I was like…talking to Connie before I was talking to Connie.” 

Eren interrupts her. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks. 

She sighs, before lifting her palms and burying her eyes in the heels of her hand and Connie, for some unknown reason, seems to be enjoying himself a little too much. She gives you both one last look, before dropping her hands. 

“I met Connie on stan twitter.” 

“What?” you ask. 

“Well, he was one of my mutuals. And I…I always talk to my mutuals and we used to text all the time. And then I started really liking him and…and we made a deal to kind of meet up when he was in New York. And then I showed up and he was just fucking standing there. I knew for years that Connie was on stan twitter since he always used to accidentally send his burner tweets to his main but…I didn’t think I was talking to fucking Connie.” 

You and Eren bite down on your cheeks, fighting the urge to laugh. 

“Connie, I think you’ve finally met your match. This is kind of perfect.” you respond. 

“I know, right?” Connie responds, giving you a bright smile back. 

“You didn’t like…think he was punking you?” Eren asks. 

“Oh, I totally thought he was punking me. It was only until he mentioned all the things that we had talked about, over the years mind you, that I actually realized it was him I was talking to all this time. And it started to make more sense, because he always seemed to know more about things that were happening than what was kind of shown on the surface.” Maryam replies. 

You shake your head. 

“So who did you run a fan account for? Was it Connie?” you ask. 

She pinches her face. 

“Right. Well, I…I actually ran a fan account for you. Both of you. You’ve actually both interacted with me on Twitter…multiple times.” 

You slam your fist down on the table. 

“Oh my fucking god. You’re THE fan account girl. Your username is y/n jaeger and you…you have that green profile picture?” you ask. 

“Holy shit. We’ve like literally talked about you multiple times.” Eren adds. 

Connie takes his free arm and slings it around her shoulder, before flinging it around her shoulder. 

“Told you, they literally don’t care.” 

“I swear though, I’m really not a stalker.” she adds again, almost like she’s entirely embarrassed. 

You and Eren shake your heads. 

“Well, you didn’t even know I was going to be here.” you respond. 

“And you didn’t even know that the person you were talking to on Twitter was Connie.” Eren adds. 

“And for what it’s worth, if I remember right, you’ve been one of the people who’s been defending us since the start – especially when it wasn’t a very popular thing to do. Which is something we’re really grateful for. And well…I’m happy if Connie’s happy, which he very clearly is.” 

Connie gives her a smile, one that she returns, before turning back to you guys. 

“I know it’s kind of silly, but I just really liked you guys. I was really into fashion when I was a kid and I really liked your stylists. And then I watched your show and listened to your music – and I just really loved it. Classes and medical school and all that would get really stressful, but it was fun to talk about the little hints that you seemed to leave in your music and the beautiful documentary you made.” 

You and Eren turn to each other and smile. 

“We appreciate that, really. And well…this kind of worked out perfectly, because we might need your help in a few months.” you respond. 

“With?” she asks. 

Eren sighs. 

“We kind of want to keep the public off of our tails for some time. While we’re fine with telling our friends now –” 

“You better be fine with it because I already told Reiner and Sasha.” Connie adds. 

Eren gives him a glare before turning back to Maryam. 

“I know you have a lot of followers and if…if you made it seem like…” 

“Like you guys weren’t dating, other people would believe it.” she finishes. 

“Yeah. We’ve just spent so much of our relationship out in the open, we…we kind of want to share it with everyone when we’re ready.” you add. 

She smiles. 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

Connie helps you make dinner on the last day of his visit – only as a gesture to thank the two of you for your hospitality and for finally getting back together. It gives Eren time to show Maryam the final scripts of Attack on Titan that he has saved, delighting her by sharing all the scenes that got cut or edited in the final season. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Connie asks. 

“Sure.” 

“Are you happy?” 

You smile. 

“Very happy, Connie. Really.” 

Connie gives you a smile, before leaning forward. 

“But?” he asks. 

“No buts. I am really happy.” 

“I don’t doubt that, but…surely there must be other things you’ve been thinking about. I feel like there’s something else kind of lingering in your…aura.” 

“Don’t talk to me about auras, Connie.” 

“You’ve got a weird and off putting vibe every time I interact with you on your own, princess.” 

You sigh. 

“Did you talk to Eren?” you ask.

“No. I can just tell. So there is something that’s bothering you?” 

You pause, abandoning the spoon in the pot, as you look down at the mix of noodles. It’s a pink sauce – one that Connie swears by – that included a decent amount of the leftover vodka that you and Eren had gifted to you by the neighbors. You made a passing joke that Jean and Mikasa would love this dish and it made Connie laugh so hard he nearly burned his own hand off. 

And you’re not sure where it comes from but before you know it, there’s hot tears pouring out of your eyes and Connie’s warm arms around you. And it’s a quiet whisper that you’re able to muster out in response. 

“Yeah. There’s something bothering me.” you respond. 

“Well, no shit, princess. You’re getting snot all over my shirt. What is it?” 

You fight the urge to laugh at the sarcasm before pulling back and looking up at him. 

“Marco.” 

Connie sighs, before giving you a nod.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Connie responds. 

You pause. 

“I just…feel like something’s wrong with me. Everyone else seemed to have moved forward from it or…or seem like they’re handling it better than me.” 

“I think there’s different circumstances. What you have to move on from is entirely different from what the rest of them do.” Connie offers. 

You heave another sigh, using the back of your hand to wipe the wetness away. 

“What do you mean?” 

“What you went through was entirely different than what someone like…Sukuna struggles with or Eren for that matter. They’ve had their fair share of struggles, but yours is just different than theirs. That means you can’t compare the two. They talked to them right until the end. And because of your circumstances, you didn’t. It must be hard not to blame yourself for it.” 

Connie pauses. 

“When I was struggling after rehab, being…being around things like that again, at afterparties and stuff…I found it really hard to even keep my head level in situations like that. It was so overstimulating…so overwhelming, that I found myself locking myself in my house alone with her for a week.” 

“You sound like me.” you respond. 

“That’s exactly the point. Sometimes things are so overwhelming that you can’t do anything but that. Locking yourself in the house till you have a bearing on it. And people like Sukuna and Eren, I…I almost envy them sometimes. They find a way to keep moving forward when all I can find myself doing is standing in one place and staring at myself from the outside in.” 

“Eren’s really hopeful. And I know deep down that he is right. That Marco wasn’t mad at me, not in the slightest. But…I can’t help but be mad at myself. I feel like sometimes I’m reliving the entire thing over again.” you respond. 

Connie smiles. 

“You sound like me.” Connie murmurs. 

“You seem fine, though. For the most part.” you add. 

Connie reaches forward, cupping the side of your face. 

“I’m lucky enough that the people I’ve wanted to make amends with are still here. But even then, that wasn’t enough, not for the blame. Sometimes…you need a little extra help. And really Y/N, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Connie’s ears seem to ring in your ears as you watch him and Maryam drive away. And even more so when you and Eren settle in for bed that night and he reaches over to shut the light switch. 

You reach for Eren’s hand, locking your fingers in with his in the sheets, before squeezing three times, a gesture that he returns. 

“Eren?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do…do you still have that card that you gave me? A few weeks ago?” 

Eren leans closer to you and you take the invitation to crawl into his open arms. 

“Of course I do. Did you want to use it, sweetheart?” he whispers. 

The warm tears return and Eren’s quick to wipe them away. 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

--

At the end of the month, Connie’s beloved girlfriend helps devise the best plan known to man. Which involved a little bit of acting, lying, and theatrics – something you and Eren were no strangers to. 

It was fairly obvious, after everything that had happened, it would be hard to make people believe that you and Eren hadn’t ended up together. And she figured it would only work if you admitted to the fact that you were dating other people and really sold it in your last press tour and awards campaign that you were soulmates – but in the platonic type of way. 

It’s why you spent three weeks in the press talking about your new beloved boyfriend, Bruce, who was just a normal guy that you met at your recording studio. Coupled with the newest song you released – so american, something Eren most definitely wouldn’t call you – people were quick to switch the breaks and think otherwise. 

Eren was doing the same, fawning in any and every interview, about his sweet new girlfriend Margaret, one of the assistant costume designers that he met on the set of Attack on Titan. About how she was the sweet love of his life, who had shown up right when he needed her. 

It wasn’t an entire lie. 

Besides the fact that it really is so fun to pretend in plain sight, the awards show was the first time that the group of you got to be together again. You were seated right next to Lana and Sukuna – the former of which is exuding the sweetest glow from her baby girl that’s due any week now and the latter who has a set of choice words for you when you take your seats together. 

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just fucking tell people?” Sukuna mutters. 

You smile. 

“Simple. We don’t want to.” you respond. 

“Yeah, but your boy toy is about to win the award of his dreams, again, and you’re about to be ten feet away getting cock blocked by lesbians.” 

You smile. Eren, in all of his brilliance, was nominated for the Best Actor in a TV Show, yet again. And truly, it was no competition – you were all positive that he was going to win, something that he wasn’t so keen about himself. 

“We can hear you.” Ymir mutters. 

“We can switch seats if you want Y/N, for that part. If you want to sit next to Eren.” Sofia adds. 

You give her a smile, before sinking back into your chair and looping your arm through Ymir’s – who was going to be accompanying you as the opener on the Birds of a Feather tour, with her lovely Sofia, who she married last weekend. 

“Where are Jean and Mikasa? I have an itch to get blackout drunk right now.” Ymir mutters. 

“No point in trying.. They’re already back there and borderline blackout drunk with empty flasks already..” you respond. 

“Figures.” 

“They pressed some really wet kisses to my cheek earlier. If I didn’t love them, I would find it absolutely disgusting.” you add. 

You give Ymir and Sukuna a light nudge at your sides, before standing up to the group of people walking up to you. 

“Oikawa, right? From Haikyuu?” you ask. 

He towers over you, looking down at you as he offers you a smile. 

“That’s right. We’ve replied to each other a lot on Twitter.” he responds. 

“Right. It’s nice to meet you in person, again. I feel like we’ve probably walked past each other a bunch of times, but…it’s nice to talk.” 

He smiles. 

“Listen, I was planning on telling you this last weekend, but I’m planning on bringing my girlfriend to your opening show next weekend. She’s a really big fan…and she’d love to meet you.” 

You place a hand on his bicep, and really, only because you can’t reach his shoulder. 

“Of course. I’ll get you a seat in the VIP tent with everyone else coming, okay?” 

“What was last weekend?” Sukuna asks. 

Oikawa turns to his left, giving an entirely unassuming smile.

“Hm?” 

“You said you were going to ask her last weekend.” Sukuna clarifies. 

“Oh! Right, I just figured you’d be at Historia’s wedding that’s all. But she told me, it really is a shame that you were all too busy.” 

You’re dumbfounded as he gives you all one last smile, before walking away. And Eren and Connie are quick to join you at your sides, Eren’s hand ghosting across yours at his side. 

“What did that tool want?” Eren asks. 

“Did Historia tell you that?” Sukua asks, to which you shake your head.

“Was he hitting on you? I’ve seen him on Twitter, don’t even get me started.” Eren mutters. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“Dude, this is so not the time to be getting your panties in a twist.” Sukuna responds. 

“What did he say?” Connie asks, nudging you in the side. 

“Historia got married. Last weekend.” Ymir states, an almost gravelly tone to her voice. 

Connie and Eren give you a weary look, before turning back to her. 

“She didn’t invite any of you and told all the guests that you guys were all too busy to come. Too busy to come because you were at my wedding, with the date I've had set for months now.” 

Sofia stands at Ymir’s side, looping her arm in with Ymir’s as she offers a small smile. And it gets worse – because the horribly timed news made you all forget that Historia was the opener for the show that you wer eall sitting at. 

You can’t help but admit it, but the willowing white dress that she wears is beautiful. But there’s a part of it that haunts you, almost like she’s a ghost instead of a bride, as she takes the center of the stage with a pink guitar and a glimmering ring on her finger. 

“My name’s Historia Reiss. This is my newest song, everyone – it’s called Lover.” 

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Oh, you're my, my, my, my Darling, you're my, my, my, my Lover

You watch as Ymir sinks into her seat, securing her own hand in Sofia’s, as you look over at Eren. And in the few seconds that you have between the commercial break, before you have to head backstage to announce the award, you lean forward and place your chin on her shoulder. 

“Are you okay, Ymir?” you ask, shooting Sofia a pinched smile over the way. 

“She’s fucking insane.” Ymir mutters. 

You’re taken off guard by the hostility. Only because in every rehearsal that you’ve shared with Ymir, she’s all but remorseful for how things ended with them – and even moreso, was looking forward to being friends again. 

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“She’s trying to piss me off. I’ve heard that fucking song – it’s one she wrote about me when we were still filming season three.” 

You wince, sharing a look with Eren, before turning back to her and squeezing one of her shoulders. 

“I don’t know what her problem is. If she’s trying to make me feel…regret over what I did last weekend, that’s far from it. I have no regrets about the people or the person I’ve chosen for myself. She can sing herself sick about it if she wants to.” Ymir finishes. 

“Good for you.” Connie states. 

“Huh?” Ymir asks. 

“Good for you. Really. You know what you want and you’ve had it by your side this entire time. If she wants to be bitter about it, she can go right ahead. That won't stop you from having that by your side or make her feel any better – and I’m sure she’ll realize that eventually.” Connie finishes. 

You give Connie a smile, before gesturing to take your open seat as the ushers arrive to take you backstage. And you’re met with the sight of Hange and Levi – with a glimmering golden trophy and an envelope in their hands. 

“He won, didn’t he?” you ask. 

“We don’t know.” 

“Do you think they’d like kill me if I opened it?” you ask, as Levi places the glittering envelope in your hands. 

Hange smiles. 

“In all seriousness kid, I think they’re kind of anticipating you will. WIth you as the announcer and us handing over the trophy, it’s fairly obvious they’re expecting something great.” Hange responds. 

You give the two of them a smile as you turn over the envelope, breaking through the latch of the sticker, and pulling the little cardstock slip out. And surely enough, it’s in bright, bold letters. 

Best Lead Actor in a TV Show - Eren Jaeger, Attack on Titan: The Final Season 

You look up at them and smile, trying to contain that scratchy feeling in the back of your throat. 

“He did it.” you whisper. 

They both give you bright smiles as they link in their arms with yours, the three of you waiting for your cue at the side of the curtains. And on their mark, the three of you walk out into the bright lights, as you scan the crowd for where Eren’s sitting – noting the bright smile on his face and the wink he offers you. 

“I think the fact that I’m standing here, with Hange and Levi at my sides, is proof that one of the best actors of our generation has won one of the most special awards here tonight.” 

And you watch as Jean and Connie’s eyes go wide, as they reach forward and secure their hands on Eren’s shoulders, jostling him as he brings his hands up to his cheeks – in utter disbelief. 

“While he’s winning an award for acting tonight, I truly do think that the recipient is a jack of all trades. Because he’s been so involved in this beautiful show – from picking the co-star in his first chemistry screen reading, to bringing life to the pages, and at the end, actually writing them. It’s been a joy to watch him in his element for the last ten years and really, to share such a big part of my life with someone who is so special.” 

You look down at the envelope, pulling out the slip again. 

“The award for Best Actor in a TV show goes to Eren Jaeger, Attack on Titan: The Final Season.” 

It’s an obscene amount of hollering – mostly from Reiner, Connie, and Jean – as you watch Eren hug Gabi and Falco before pressing a kiss to Lana’s cheek and making his way to the stage. And it’s almost too sweet – getting to watch the lingering hugs that Hange and Levi give Eren, before he turns to you to give a polite hug. 

You take the few seconds you have to say your piece. 

“Hey. Guess what?” you whisper. 

“What?” 

“I told you so. All those years ago.” you respond. 

Eren presses a kiss to your cheek, before the three of you all shuffle off to the side, and watch Eren from a few feet away. And you watch as he runs his hand nervously through his hair, before looking down at the award. 

“I promise I’ll make a speech this time.” Eren starts. 

You all laugh, as he looks over at you, before turning back to the crowd. 

“I…I truly have no words for what this show has meant to me and what it has brought me. Almost ten years ago, two writers turned screenwriters, for whatever god awful reason, saw a film in which I had all but ten minutes of screentime before I got killed off. And for some reason, it spoke to them – so much so that they decided to make me the lead of their show. It seems strange at first, but they’re the first people I find myself being the most thankful for, because they’re the only reason that anything after came. I’ve made…” 

Eren’s voice cracks and you swallow hard. 

“I’ve made lifelong relationships and…and a real family. I’ve had the privilege of meeting my partner in crime, Connie, the sweetest friends I’ve ever had, Jean and Mikasa, and maybe one of the only people who understands me best, Armin. I’ve met maybe one of the most important people in my life, Y/N L/N, who gives definition to being the best friend and partner everyday, and most of all, I’ve met the love of my life, my sweet Margaret. There are no words for how thankful I am, really. Thank you so much.” 

There’s a resounding sound of cheers as Eren links his arm in with yours and the four of you clump together backstage. And in the few seconds of quiet you have, you reach forward and cup the side of his face before pressing another kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m so happy for you, Eren. You dream came true – the right way this time.” 

Eren smiles, before linking one of his hands in with yours. 

“You next.” Eren states. 

You scoff. 

“Leave it to you to make your award about me. Just be happy.” you respond. 

“I am happy. But really, you’re next.” Eren states. 

“You can’t become triple threats twice, Eren.” 

“You know, I’ve happened to write very convincing letters in the past. To have them accept demos from me on behalf of you, to consider you for awards for years on end. I think I’ll try my luck on that one and see where it gets me, sweetheart.” 

--

The following week, Eren’s standing by your side backstage with Sofia on the other side, in the mere minutes before you perform. If your timing was correct, Ymir was halfway into her set and seriously killing it, meaning that you were going to follow in under an hour. 

Gabi and Falco are the first ones to greet you backstage – and the first guests on the Birds of a Feather tour. 

When you think back to the past, all the memories of touring are the worst. Because the only thing you can remember is your legs shaking from the exhaustion, your ears deaf from the screaming, and your chest hurting from the pain – before you were dragged onto stage another time by Danny and Sareen and forced to do it again. 

It’s why you kept the tour relatively short by your standards, with thirty-six shows, and your friends by your side. 

If they wrote the songs with you, they could perform them with you too. And while Glue Song was technically Gabi’s request, Falco’s the feature – so it was only fair to let both of them sing it with you on the first day. 

And you watch from far as Eren stands behind both of their little vanities, hearing the ends of their conversation – as Eren reassures both of them before taking pictures of the two of them together. And it’s almost like he can see you watching him, because he turns to look over his shoulder, before offering you a smile and walking over. 

“Not that people know, but you and I are kind of the first ladies of the Birds of a Feather tour.” Sofia states. 

“What do you mean?” Eren asks. 

“My wife is the opener. Your girlfriend is the main set. We’re the first ladies.” Sofia states. 

Eren snorts as he reaches for the back of your hair, readjusting it against your bodysuit, before giving you a smile. 

“Ready?” 

“I think so.” 

Sofia gives the two of you a sweet smile, as she loops her arm in with yours and leans her head against your shoulder. And three songs in, you feel her tense you at your side. 

“Oh god. Here it comes.” Sofia murmurs. 

“Here what comes?” you ask. 

She turns her head to the side, confused. 

“She didn’t tell you? She added a new song to the setlist, it’s…about Historia.” Sofia responds. 

“Does she know that Historia’s actually here in the tent? With her husband?” 

Marcus, Historia’s newly wedded husband, was nice. It’s really the only word that you could use to describe him, because honestly, it didn’t seem like there was much else going on besides that. He mentioned a plethora of niceties when you met him hours prior – that he had missed you at the wedding, that he had memorized all the songs before the show started so he could fully enjoy it – and that was it. 

You could tell that he didn’t have the faintest idea about Historia and Ymir, or Historia at all. 

But he was kind. And he wouldn’t hurt Historia and you supposed that was all that mattered.

“That’s kind of the point, Y/N.” Sofia mumbles. 

The three of you inch closer to the edge of the stage, just out of view of the curtains, as you watch Ymir’s visuals change – bright graphic letters spelling out Good Luck, Babe! 

It's fine, it's cool You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth And guess I'm the fool With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof

I don't wanna call it off But you don't wanna call it love You only wanna be the one that I call "baby"

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

You look over at Eren, who is crushing your hand to oblivion at your left, before turning back to Sofia. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eren whispers. 

“I can’t even blame her. Historia came for blood last weekend.” 

“That’s not even half of it. It gets worse.” 

You and Eren widen your eyes, before leaning forward and paying attention again. And it’s insane, because Ymir’s crouching on the ground – before she fully lies down and starts belting into the microphone. 

When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night With your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife And when you think about me, all of those years ago You're standing face to face with "I told you so" You know I hate to say, "I told you so" You know I hate to say, but, I told you so 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling (well, I told you so) You can say it's just the way you are Make a new excuse, another stupid reason Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck) You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

--

a year and a half later 

After almost two years of being married, Jean and Mikasa welcome a baby girl, named Olivia, in October. And on her fourth week of life, they invite all of you over to meet her in Seattle. 

You’d be lying if it didn’t fill you with dread. 

“Why are you freaking out?” Eren asks, reaching down to adjust the charms of your necklace, the Saturn charm now accompanied by an ocean wave, against your collarbone, before looking back up at you. 

“Babies don’t really like me.” you state. 

“You know, they can kind of sense when you’re all…tense and stuff. Just relax when they ask you to hold her.” 

You groan. 

“Jean and Mikasa can keep their empath baby to themselves. What do you mean it can sense if I’m stressed?” 

“You’ll drop her if you’re being too stiff. Just cradle her head against you.” Eren responds. 

“That’s exactly why I can’t hold her!” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“She’s basically like your niece. You’ll have to hold her eventually.” Eren deadpans. 

“Maybe when she’s older. Fully conscious and talking and stuff, you know. Like Teddy.” 

Eren sighs, almost acutely aware of how hopeless you were when it came to this, from the way you acted with Lily. Except Sukuna was far less faith in you than Jean and Mikasa and agreed with you every time you refused to hold her out of fear. 

Eren locks his hand in with yours as he drags you to the porch, only to be met with Zeke and Carla answering the door. 

“You’re finally here!” 

Eren’s mom pulls you forward, nearly side sweeping Eren and trapping you in a crushing hug as you give Zeke a pained look at your side, to which the two of them only laugh in response. And when Carla lets go, she brings her hands down to your wrists, before squeezing. 

“You’re a vision in yellow! This dress is beautiful, Y/N.” 

“Mom. You’re laying it on a little thick there.” Eren mumbles, placing his hands on her shoulders before pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Shut up, Eren. This is the closest I’ve gotten to having a daughter.” Carla states. 

You look over at Eren – entirely aware of how much his parents, or more specifically Carla had been, about how he needed to propose soon. But Eren rolls his eyes as he walks off, greeting Lana and Teddy in the kitchen as you turn back to her and wrap one of your free arms around her. 

“Did you see Olivia yet?” you ask. 

“She’s beautiful. Oh, she looks just like Jean.” 

“Well, that’s a shame.” you respond. 

“I heard that, twerp.” 

You look over to find the source of the voice – a very tired Jean, with a stubble and a well grown out mullet – glaring at you. But the second you look at him properly, he gives you a smile as you run forward, wrapping your arms around him as he returns the gesture. 

“Hi, Mr. Dad.” 

“That’s the best you could come up with? Mr. Dad?” 

“Saying just Dad is weird. But I had to acknowledge the fact that you…have a whole child just out here and breathing and stuff.” 

“Wow. You really have such a way with words.” Jean states, as the two of you trail down to the kitchen, where Eren and Jean do their weird handshake. 

You feel a tugging at your legs, before you pick up Teddy who leans his head against yours. 

“You get bigger everytime I see you, kid. 

“I’m a growing boy.” Teddy shrugs, as you turn to Lana and laugh. 

“He’s getting every bit of sass from Sukuna.” Lana states. 

“I can tell.” you respond, before turning back to him. 

Sukuna presses a kiss to your cheek as a greeting, before Connie and Reiner join the group as well and do the same. 

“How are you today, Teddy? Did you see baby Olivia yet?” you ask. 

“Yeah.” 

You smile as you turn over to Eren, who leans against the counter and watches the two of you from a few feet away. He fights the urge to take a picture – only because Sukuna would tease him into oblivion – and makes a mental note to ask for one like it later, of Teddy snuggled in your arms and resting his head against your cheek. 

“Did you like her?” you ask. 

“She’s cute. For a baby.” 

“You wanna tell Y/N what you told me, Theo?” Sukuna asks. 

Teddy sits up, turning to Sukuan with confusion. 

“Tell her what, Dad?”

“About what you did when you saw Olivia.” Sukuna clarifies. 

He turns back to you, a smile on his face. 

“I held baby Olivia all on my own.” 

You turn back to Sukuna and Eren, the two of them laughing with irritating smiles on their faces as you stick their tongues out at them. 

“Oh, be quiet.” you murmur. 

“If my literal child can carry that baby, so can you.” Sukuna states. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, before taking Teddy from your arms. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink.” Sukuna states. 

“I’ll come with.” you respond. 

The two of you walk quietly out to the little backyard, as you fill three glasses of lemonade and hold one out to each of them. 

“So do you just not want kids in the future?” 

“What? Of course, I do.” you respond. 

Sukuna snickers. 

“Are you not going to hold your own child?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“Pump the brakes, Sukuna. Eren and I aren’t even married yet.” 

“Speaking of. Are you two ever going to tie the knot?” 

You shrug. 

“We’ve talked about it before. It’s definitely in the cards but I told him that he should wait until he feels ready. And things are really nice now, the way they are. I figure he’s just soaking in it all.” you state. 

“Would you say yes if he proposed?” Sukuna asks. 

“Are you crazy?” 

“I mean…you’re saying that you told Eren to wait until he was ready. There’s no doubt you will of course, but are you ready for that?” 

You nurse the little glass of lemonade close to your chest, before looking up at him and smiling. 

“I’ve been waiting to marry him since I was like sixteen. Of course I’m ready.” 

Sukuna gives you a smile, before gesturing for you to follow him back inside where Eren’s waiting for you patiently. And you can tell by the excited smile on his face and the way that he grabs your waist exactly where he’s leading you next. 

“You should be excited. This is literally both of our best friends, in one person.” 

“I am excited. I just want her to like us, that’s all.” 

When you enter the room, it’s quiet – with Levi, Jean, and Mikasa’s mom by the crib and Mikasa sitting in the bed, rearranging the little toys. 

You and Eren beeline in different directions, with him heading straight for the baby and you heading straight towards Mikasa’s side. And you can’t help but do it – reach forward and cup her cheeks before hugging her full on. 

“Mikasa, you look so cute.” you mumble, as she nearly crushes you with her death grasp of a hug. 

Mikasa pulls back, rolling her eyes, as she eyes your dress. 

“Are you saying I look different after Olivia?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“You’re all full in the face. With rosy pink cheeks. It’s adorable.” you whisper. 

“Well, you’re quite adorable too. This is a beautiful dress – I’m going to side sweep Eren and propose first if he doesn’t get around to it.”

“I heard that, Mikasa.” Eren deadpans, from his far corner of the room. 

“That was the point, goofy.” 

Eren frowns as he walks over to her side, offering her a hug before sitting down with the two of you. 

“Goofy is the best you’ve got?” Eren asks. 

“There’s a baby in the room. I can’t exactly call you an asshole now, can I?” Mikasa whispers.

You both giggle, only to be stopped by the glare that Levi gives the three of you, as you clear your throats. 

“She’s perfect, Mikasa. She’s got your eyes.” Eren states. 

“Oh thank god. Carla gave me a heart attack downstairs when she told me the baby looked like Jean.” 

It’s only then that Jean walks over, with the tiniest bundle of little pink blankets in his hand, that the three of you stand up. And you take the natural position, standing slight behind Eren as he looks up at Jean, eyes wide. 

“Can I hold her?” 

“Dude, go ahead.” 

You and Mikasa share a look, irritated by their nonchalance, as you watch Jean carefully transfer Olivia over to Eren’s arms. She’s quick with it – securing all five of her tiny fingers around one of Eren’s fingers as he laughs, looking over at you. 

And Eren’s quick to notice that despite all your self-proclaimed fears about holding babies and giving birth, you have the same curious look in your eyes that you had when you met Lily. 

“Olivia, my name’s Eren and this is Y/N. Your parents are basically the coolest people we know.” Eren whispers, almost like he’s not trying to disturb the quiet peace in the room. 

“Well, not your dad. He could use a little help in that department.” you respond. 

“Stop badmouthing me in front of my child.” Jean responds, reaching forward to flick you on the forehead. 

But it’s right at that second that Olivia lets out the quietest little coo, before readjusting in her little blankets. And it’s enough to make the group of you laugh, teary eyed smiles from you and Eren, as Jean walks over to Levi and hands him the camera to take a picture of the five of you, together for the first time. 

And in the thirty minutes that Eren spends holding Olivia and whispering with Mikasa, it’s the free second that you take to talk to Levi. 

“Look at you. Trying to butter up Mikasa’s mom.” 

Levi glares. 

“She’s my sister.” 

“Right. I kind of forgot about that.” 

Levi rolls his eyes, as the two of you look out of the window, at the group of them all chattering downstairs. You can’t help but smile at Teddy and Lily sitting at the table, who are showing a very interested Ymir and Connie all of the drawings that they’ve allegedly done together. 

It was mostly Teddy of course, but he just liked to include Lily in everything he does. Which is something you’re told that Sukuna and Yuuji do together all the time – and it makes your heart warm all the same. 

“Is there a reason you never had kids, Levi?” you ask. 

Levi smiles. 

“Hange can’t have kids.” Levi states. 

You feel your throat dry the slightest, as you look over to the left, where Hange and Sofia are playing a very intense game of chess. 

“I didn’t know that. I always figured that you two weren’t…”

“A lot of people did. And I suppose that made it easier, because it really did break our hearts that we didn’t get to have any.” 

You smile, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“If it makes you feel better, I know that myself and fifteen of my peers have always seen you as a father figure.” 

Levi smiles. 

“It does actually. Only because my self-proclaimed children are all so talented that I have so much to brag about.” 

You press a kiss to Levi’s cheek as Eren beckons for you to join him downstairs, now that Olivia’s fallen asleep. And you all but oblige, trying to memorize the sickeningly sweet kiss that he gives you on the way down. 

“Do you ever think we’re going to have kids?” Eren asks. 

“Eren. You’re basically like born to be a dad.” you whisper. 

“What?”

“Every kid we’ve ever met loves you. Of course, we’re going to have kids. I’ve even taken the liberty of naming them already.” 

Eren gives you a confused look, before knocking on your forehead. 

“Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” 

“Hilarious.” you deadpan. 

“No seriously. I’m shocked Mrs. Scared of Pregnancy because of Reddit threads from when you were thirteen is saying this to me right now.” 

You roll your eyes, trying to make your way down the stairs, before he pulls back, pressing a kiss to your cheek as a consolation. 

“Okay, I’m joking. But tell me the names.” 

“No. You’re being rude.” 

“Come on. They’re going to be my children too. I want to hear it.” 

You sigh, crossing your hands over your chest, as you look up at him. 

“If it’s a boy, we’re going to name him Marco.” 

Eren smiles, giving you an approving nod, as you twist the rings on your pointer finger. 

“And if it’s a girl, we’ll name her Maya.” 

“Maya?” 

“Well, the plan is hopefully that we have a boy and a girl. We’ll name our kids after Marco…and his favorite poet, Maya Angelou.” 

Eren leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“That’s a deal.” 

--

Two days later, you and Eren seem to right a historical wrong, in your long winded history, in the mere hours before you attend Lana’s album listening party.  

By visiting the Seattle Aquarium, the way you were supposed to all those years ago. 

It was your idea when you made your weekend plan to be in Seattle. Because Eren had three extra days before he started shooting and before you headed back to New York to record with Niccolo – and it only felt right. 

Despite your horrible track history of attendance, the owners of the Seattle Aquarium granted you entry on Sunday, the day they were closed, and offered you the place for the entire day. Though you suppose, it’s only because you’ve given them such gracious donations over the past years. 

When you walk in, you run your fingers over the bronze plaque as Eren looks over your shoulder, admiring the lettering. 

With special thanks to Bruce and Margaret, whose generous donations have benefitted our environmentalist efforts and preserved over forty-five species of fish over the past year, nearby in the Pacific Ocean. 

Eren takes your hand, the two of you taking the little blankets and pillows, and setting them up right in the center of the aquarium, before you lie down against the little makeshift fort you made. 

And you’re not sure what it is – the dim lights and the overwhelming blue – or the fish swimming all around you and Eren in their not so little fishbowl, but you can’t help but feel the strangest sense of nostalgia. That a few years ago, you saw Jean and Mikasa get engaged for the first time, and it pushed you so hard that you were ready to confess to him under these same lights. 

“Do you ever think about what would happen if we actually ended up coming here last time?” you ask. 

Eren looks over at you, pressing a stray kiss to your forehead, before messing with one of the strands of your hair. 

“Sometimes. I figured we’d have to fight out of there someway, just in a different way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Eren pauses. 

“They’d run a slander campaign against you. They’d probably dox Falco and Colt and your parents would get in the crossfire by proxy.” Eren murmurs. 

“Yeah.” 

“I figured they’d probably give Connie all the big roles so he wouldn’t have any reason to leave. Everyone would know about Lana and Teddy and well…I don’t know if Sukuna would be on our side the way he necessarily ended up being.” 

You lean closer to him, interlocking one of your free hands in with his. 

“I don’t know if we’d stay together.” 

“We’d stay together.” you murmur. 

“Yeah. I do figure it would be harder though. We kind of lucked out, twice, with how isolated the set was and then the cabin.” 

And Eren reaches into his pocket, wrapping one of his free hands around you as he opens up a little green box, to a glimmering diamond ring. 

“I figure this would happen farther down the line if things went that route.” Eren mumbles. 

You’re taken aback as you sit up in the little pile of blankets as Eren follows suit, a sweet smile on his face as he presses the little box into your hand. 

“I don’t necessarily know how things would have ended up if we got to be together all those years prior. All I remember, really, is watching you drive away from me and feeling like I had just experienced the loss of my life. For a second time. It only feels right to me that we get to promise to seal the deal here, for good, like we should have all of those years ago.” 

Eren takes the box from your hands, plucking the ring out of its little slot, and takes your hand in his. 

“Will you marry me?”

You can’t help but lean forward, nearly knocking him back down into the pillows as you press a kiss to his lips, which he smiles into. 

“I’m taking that’s a yes?” 

“Oh my god, Eren. Yes, obviously.” 

Eren sits up again, this time carefully securing the ring around your finger, before lifting your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles. 

“Did you tell anyone you were doing this?” 

Eren shrugs. 

“I asked for your parents and Falco and Colt’s blessing. Then I remembered that Levi exists and asked him for good measure too. And Lana, of course, just because I can’t keep anything from her.” 

You smile. 

“Was there someone else I was supposed to tell?” 

You pinch your lips into a line. 

“No.” 

“Oh my god, there totally was. Who did I forget?” 

You fight the urge to laugh as he reaches forward, tickling at your sides as you shove him off. 

“No one, Eren. I love the ring.” 

Eren twists his face in confusion, before leaning forward. 

“Who said anything about the ring?” 

You pinch your eyes shut, before reaching forward and placing your hands on his cheeks. 

“I love the ring. And I love you, it’s really not –” 

“You told someone what type of ring you wanted, didn’t you?” 

You sigh, as you look down at the sparkling diamond on your finger, that really is perfect. 

“It was a tiny request that I had. I should have known that you’d tell Lana and not Mikasa, in hindsight.” 

Eren shakes his head. 

“That’s not a big deal. I’ll just get you another one.” 

“Eren.” 

“Really, I was planning on getting you multiple anyway. You have to have one that has a silver band and one that has gold, because I know that you hate mixed metals. So really, you can tell me what it is that you wanted and I’ll keep it in mind.” 

You sigh. 

“It’s kind of cheesy.” 

“I’m not lactose intolerant, Y/N. Just tell me.” 

You sigh. 

“I like the diamond, but I wanted it set with another stone.” 

“I do like unique rings. Which one were you thinking?” 

“An emerald. Because it’s green, you know?” 

And you watch as Eren grins, fully understanding your request this time, as he leans forward, his lips a few feet away from yours as he whispers. 

“Are you telling me you want a green emerald because my eyes are green?” 

“Sue me, Eren!” you deadpan. 

And it’s a lingering kiss that Eren presses to your cheeks, before he leans back and looks up at the fish. You follow his gaze to the two yellow fish swimming near the top, as they make their way down to the other side. 

And Eren looks over at you and smiles. 

“No, I don’t think so. I think I’ll just marry you instead.” 

--

You’re slightly late to Lana’s listening party and the two of you sneak in towards the back door, where you greet everyone waiting for you backstage.  And it’s quite obvious that Lana and Sukuna shared the news with everyone the second you arrive – because Mikasa reaches for your hand the second you walk up to her and Lana gives you a lingering hug. 

“Oh thank god, I was starting to get worried.” Mikasa states. 

“All the comments got to you the other day, didn’t they?” Sukuna asks. 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“On the contrary, asshole. Though the comments did start to piss me off, because I was doing so well at hiding it before you all started bringing it up and making her think about it.” 

There’s a little dinging overhead, signaling that Lana had to start, as the group of you all head out to the little audience – filled with about fifty of Lana’s fans who nearly start screaming the second you all walk out to listen with them. 

“Hey.” Eren whispers. 

“What?” 

“I’ll be back, but you should keep your hair in the front.”

“What? Why?” 

“I left a mark earlier.” Eren responds, squeezing at your shoulder as you glare at his retreating form. 

He shoots you a wink over his shoulder, before he walks backstage and Lana walks on. And it’s sweet, the flowery dress she’s wearing and the purple guitar as she takes the stage. You feel a tap on your shoulder, to find Sukuna at your side, smiling at you. 

“Congratulations, stinky. There’s not many times that I find myself believing in things like this, at least not before anyways, but you’ve proven me wrong, time and time again.” 

You loop your arm in with Sukuna resting your chin against his shoulder, as you watch Lana start to tune the guitar. 

“I could say the same thing about you.” you respond. 

The two of you quiet down as Lana starts and Eren walks behind her, taking a seat at the piano. He shoots you a smile from his spot, starting to play the piano composition as Lana starts talking. 

“I’ve written lots of songs about people in my very long career of music, now. And I’ve had many songs written about me by my friend Eren here. I figured it was only fair that I returned the favor by writing about him and his beautiful fiancee, with his help of course.” 

Eren smiles as he leans closer to the microphone. 

“This song is called Margaret.” 

This is a simple song, gonna write it for a friend My shirt is inside out, I'm messy with the pen He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble" He had flashes of the good life He was like, "Should I jump off this building now or do it on the double?

'Cause, baby, if your love is in trouble Baby, if your love is in trouble Baby, if your love is in trouble When you know, you know When you know, you know

It kinda makes me laugh, runnin' down that path When you're good as gold 'Cause when you know, you know 'Cause when you know, you know And when you're old, you're old

Like Hollywood and me, that diamond on your ring The soul that you bring to the table One that makes me sing In a minor key Diamond on your ring 'Cause when you know, you know When you know, you know

--

The two of you tie the knot a year later, on a chilly December night, back in the old townhouse. It’s decorated to perfection – the walls that you originally took down are now covered again with polaroids of you and Eren, but all of your loved ones too. 

True to Mikasa’s statement all of those years ago, the flower girls at your wedding are Olivia and Lily – but they can’t exactly walk yet, so it’s only fair that Reiner and Connie carry them and their little flower baskets down the aisle. 

As busy as Mikasa and Jean are with the baby, they give up their spots as best man and maid of honor to the more seasoned parents, Lana and Sukuna. Though it feels entirely wrong to have Lana standing on your side and Sukuna on Eren’s, so you decide to switch the roles. Teddy’s quite possibly the best ring bearer and Levi’s the perfect person, who gives a sweet passionate speech about holding out for love, as the officiant of your wedding. 

Levi, however, is full of all sorts of tricks – which is something the two of you only note when it’s time for you to do your first dance. Because instead of the piano quartet that you organized, he’s sitting on the bench next to Hange instead, tapping on the microphone to get your attention. 

“I believe it’s time for the first dance.” Levi states. 

Hange rolls her eyes, before taking the microphone. 

“You’re so stiff, Levi.” 

“You talk then.” 

“No, you always tend to have a way with words.” 

You look up at Eren, admiring the two little pins on the lapel of his jacket – a crescent moon and the Saturn pin – before looking back at the two of them and their antics. 

“Eren and Y/N. You’ve written quite a few love songs, not only about the beautiful love that you share with each other, but the love that we all seem to have for one another as well. And really, we figured it was only fair that we all repaid the favor, by writing a song about the two of you for you to dance to.”

“And well, we know how much being surrounded by the love in the room means to you. So we’re going to invite everyone to join you on the dance floor, so you can be surrounded by it.” Hange states. 

The group of them all give you sweet smiles, as you all walk out onto the little makeshift floor, as Hange and Levi start playing the piano, Levi’s quiet voice filling the backyard. 

When the rain is blowing in your face And the whole world is on your case I could offer you a warm embrace To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear And there is no one there to dry your tears I could hold you for a million years To make you feel my love

You pause from looking at Eren, as you pull him closer – resting your ear against the beating sound of his heart – and catch it all again, the love in the room so warm it’s almost suffocating. Because it’s Falco still stepping on Gabi’s feet after all these years, Ymir spinning Sofia way too many times, and Jean and Mikasa dancing with Lily in their arms. 

“Can you believe they wrote a song about us?” you whisper. 

“I’ll fucking say. It was about time. Do you know how many weddings we’ve carried on our backs by writing songs?” 

“Don’t exaggerate, Eren. It was only like three.” 

“Three too many. I was expecting the damn fanfare when I walked in.” 

You both laugh, before leaning forward, and looking over at Hange and Levi – soft smiles that they give each other, as they play the piano together. 

I know you haven't made your mind up yet But I will never do you wrong I've known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue I'd go crawling down the avenue No, there's nothing that I wouldn't do To make you feel my love

--

Eren makes his SNL debut three months after the fact and you figure that there's no better time to announce the fact that you and Eren are together. A silly little skit – where your fake characters are both named Margaret and Bruce – is the perfect end to what the two of you started at the beginning of the week, when you released your songs False God and Only Angel on the same day. 

But unbeknownst to Eren, you change the original plan you had – to play False God at the end of the show – and choose to play a different song at the end. Eren turns to you, giving you a last wink as the show starts rolling, and he turns to the camera. 

“Once again, Y/N L/N-Jaeger.” 

There’s a resounding sound of cheers as Eren takes his side next to Connie and Maryam at the front, as you start strumming on the guitar. 

Fatefully I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me Misery Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep

And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

And I fell from the pedestal Right down the rabbit hole Long story short, it was a bad time Pushed from the precipice Clung to the nearest lips Long story short, it was the wrong guy Now I'm all about you I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah

The first thing you catch sight of when you look out is Hange and Levi. And the first thing that comes to mind is that speech – watching Hange spilling tears into that microphone, watching it in your pajamas with Colt at your side and Falco fast asleep somewhere in the corner – and it makes your stomach jolt. 

Actually I always felt I must look better in the rear view Missing me At the golden gates they once held the keys to When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us This time, I'm ready

Ricky comes to mind next, but it’s only because you can see Lana and Sukuna in the third row – their heads leaned against each other as they hold hands. Because it’s not exactly the justice she exactly deserved, but years after the fact, his horrible mouth had landed him on a blacklisted list of actors – and really, he was never to be seen again. Hyla and Scott were always around, but never warranted a second thought after what you had done to them – tearing their once empire to the ground with your own bare hands and a pencil. 

No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm (keep you warm) No more tug of war now I just know there's more (know there's more) No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm (keep you warm) And my waves meet your shore Ever and evermore

Past me I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things Your nemeses Will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing And he's passing by Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky And he feels like home If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go

The raw spot of hurt that was reserved for Marco softened over the years and the over-consuming feeling it once used to give you was now open – for you to give to other parts of your life. To your friends, to your family, and to Eren. 

Eren. 

Now I'm all about you (and now) I'm all about you, ah (and now) I'm all about you (and now) I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah I'm all about you (and now) Yeah, yeah I'm all about you

You can’t help but smile at him, feeling your heart nearly pounding in your chest, as you look at him – smiling back at you from the front row, his hands pressed to his chest, with a silver band around his ring finger. 

Long story short, it was a bad time Long story short, I survived 

Hange had told you, indirectly all those years ago, to show people the real you. And as much acting as you and Eren had done - method and otherwise - you supposed there was nothing more real than the love that existed between the two of you.

Eren closes the distance and you swing your guitar to the side as he brings his hands around your cheeks and presses one last kiss to your lips before the camera cuts. 

--

an: a very bittersweet goodbye to one of the most special fics i've ever written. i truly do not think that there are enough words that i can string together (which as ironic as someone who is a fic writer) to explain what this fic has meant to me, what your interactions have meant to me, and everything else in between.

this fic has truly been a piece of my heart - not only because i've poured so many of my real emotions into each of the characters, but also because it's brought me so much joy to share with people - and to have them nitpick and find all the little clues i've been leaving along the way.

whether you've been reading since july or just picked it up in the few days before it was finished, thank you so much for being here 💌

PS: method acting fun fact! this fic was actually a REQUEST that I wrote for someone, if you can believe it. further proof to kind of interact with writers and show ur love bc u can ask for a fic and then be stuck with this mumbo jumbo of almost 270k words at the end of it.

peace and love!!! ronnie out <3

(if you request any side pieces about this stories/ask any questions/etc!!! I am more than happy to always answer. i've thought of so much lore in my head)

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon  @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[fazedlight]

Stargazing (soft supercorp ficlet, post-6)

She’s always wanted to be in love.

Lena pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter, as she glanced to the kryptonian opening up a thermos of hot chocolate. Kara passed the filled lid cup to Lena, as she tipped the thermos to her lips, taking a small sip. Lena pulled her own cup to her lips as Kara pointed up at the night sky. “Argo City is about there,” she said, Lena following her finger somewhere west. “And Rao is about there,” she continued, pointing farther south.

She’s always wanted to be in love.

Alex’s words rang in Lena’s mind. It had been a small, quiet conversation. Lena had counted herself lucky, that after everything - her betrayal, Non Nocere, Kara going to the phantom zone - that she had been able to find family in the end. That the people around her had forgiven her. That for the first time in her life, she found peace.

It had been a calm morning, her and Alex - the early risers - having coffee in the Tower, musing about life. The chat had inevitably landed on Kara, Lena finding herself constantly curious about what it had been like to grow up with an alien for a sister, a refugee who had struggled to adjust.

She’s always wanted to be in love.

And now Lena found herself gazing at the kryptonian, knowing that her expression would be revealingly wistful if Kara’s sights were not fixed to the sky as she rambled. Couldn’t she just fall for me? Lena thought, trying to chase off the melancholy.

It was the third Friday in a row where Kara had gently lifted Lena from the Tower balcony, taking her up to a flatter portion of the roof, the sky open above them. National City was a bit too bright to see anything as marvelous as the Milky Way. But the planets, Ursa Major, Orion’s belt - all shone brightly in the sky.

Kara rambled amiably about an old friend’s telescope, how she’d fly it over to the Tower next time so that they could see Saturn’s rings. Lena smiled softly, soothed by the sound of Kara’s voice, the gentle vibration that Lena could feel in her chest from their snuggled position. But it just itched at her mind - what is it that Kara wanted out of life? Had things changed?

Kara paused in her ramblings, smiling curiously at Lena. “Are you okay? Warm enough?” “I’m plenty warm,” Lena said, pulling her blanket in tighter. “Just thinking.” “About what?” Kara said, wrapping her arms around the human, as though to offer help in fighting away the cold evening.

Lena glanced up at Kara, uncertain if… this was a conversation they should really have. But with the warm blues staring back at her, with the itch in the back of her mind- “Alex said…” Lena found her voice faltering.

Kara rubbed at Lena’s back soothingly, as she tilted her head curiously.

“Alex said… you always wanted to be in love.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she replied, the word seeming to fall from her lips. “I- well.”

“Sorry,” Lena said, somewhat flustered. Why did I bring this up? “We can drop it, it’s a weird conversation.”

“It’s fine, Lena, it’s just - I am in love.” Kara’s eyes hesitantly glanced to the side, before meeting Lena’s face again. “I’ve been in love for years.”

Lena’s stomach plummeted, suddenly feeling anxious. “Oh,” she said. “But you’re… not with them,” Lena mulled contemplatively, her wistfulness tied up in some sadness. Because as much as she wanted Kara... more than anything, she just wished Kara could be happy. 

Kara’s gaze left Lena, turning her head back up to the stars. “It wasn’t until I was in love that I realized I didn’t have to be loved back.”

“Anyone would love you,” Lena said.

“Not anyone,” Kara replied, glancing down at the roof. “Sometimes, things aren’t meant to be.”

“Who are you in love with?” Lena asked, the words falling from her lips before she could think to stop them.

Lena didn’t miss the way Kara’s throat tensed, a nervous swallow as she resolutely avoided Lena’s eyes. “You know, Lena. You have to know.”

Something tentative bloomed in Lena’s chest. A yearning, a hope. A realization that washed over her. Oh.

It almost felt silly, in retrospect, Lena’s mind parsing through the relationship. Because she thought she had been obvious, with the Valentine flowers, and she had taken the hint when the reporter had emphasized that they were good friends.

But… flying to Dublin, and Paris, just to give Lena a treat? The sobbing confession, that explained the line that Kara could never cross. Risking the world, in a fight to save Lena’s soul. For a friend like you, there are no boundaries.

She didn’t speak. Instead, she lifted her hand to Kara’s cheek, gently turning Kara’s face to her own. Kara glanced nervously back, her eyes shifting slowly between Lena’s eyes, when the truth of what they had both been wrestling with began to wash over her too. A shy smile, a small laugh. After a moment, Lena found her eyes drifting to Kara’s lips.

Lena smiled again, noting as Kara’s tongue darted out, wetting her lips in subconscious anticipation. Lena leaned forward as Kara’s head tilted in, Lena closing the gap to press her lips against the kryptonian’s.

They savored the brief meeting of lips, knowing that soon would come a time for passion and desire - but not now, not yet. On this roof, beneath the planets and Rao and the open sky, they only shared their intent.

Kara pulled away slightly, eyes still closed as she tilted her head to the side, nuzzling against Lena’s cheek in a silent confession that finally gave Lena the courage to say what she needed to say. “I love you too.”

[rustboxstarr]

🗡"Seeking attention like some common whore"🗡

Summary: Eddie doesn't think before he talks when he's pissed, he regrets that now when he has to explain to his daughter why her mom can't wear whatever she wants.

Pairings: Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, some fighting, Eddie being a dick, Eddie and R being a healthy couple and talking about their problems lol

Wordcount: 2.6 k

A/N: I found this in my docs and thought why not post it? Idk where the idea for this came from but I guess its mildly funny 🤷‍♀️

Love yas!

Check out my other works!

You woke up in a sour mood on Saturday, head pounding and your mouth extremely dry, a bitter taste resting on your gums. Your week had been long and challenging, you hadn’t even been that keen on going out partying Friday evening but Cindy, your closest colleague had psyched you up and made you feel excited about the whole thing, you even enjoyed yourself, had quite a few drinks, lots of laughs, some stumbling around with some other girls from the office as you made your way out and a permanent sloppy grin painted your features as you got out the cab and stepped through the door to your small house where so much love had been shared you were comfortable calling it a home. That grin was wiped clean off the moment you stepped through the door. 

A hangover was beating down on you, made even worse when you woke up with no long muscly arms wrapped around you, or any limbs even touching you for that matter. You craned your neck from your position lying on your side to see Eddies back to you, shallow even breaths making his torso expand evenly. It felt melancholy, not waking up with a comforting warmth wrapped around you, and you almost let that feeling overtake you before you rolled your eyes as you remembered what had actually gone down the night before, the reason for why there would be no awaiting tylenol and water on your bedside table and no lazy saturday morning cuddles before Ophelia woke up. 

You dragged yourself out of bed, the weight on your feet feeling undeniably heavy and sagging as your post drunk state hit you like a slap in the face when your head leveled upright. Taking a deep breath you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some pain killers, a very large glass of water or two and a strong cup of coffee. 

Rubbing your eyes of sleep you sipped your coffee at the kitchen table, sunk into the wooden chair, much too hard for any slouching to be at all comfortable. Footsteps pattered against the wooden stairs alerting you that someone was coming to join you, much to your dismay it wasn't a light pitter patter of tiny feet but heavy steps of a tired grown man probably equally as sour as you. The thuds alerting his presence caused you to quickly adjust your worn cotton nightgown, pulling the hem up comfortably to cover any awkward cleavage. 

You didn't even look his way as you heard the same footsteps enter the sage green and powder blue kitchen, you made no effort to stand up and greet him in any way instead you just sipped your coffee and looked out of the window. Your husband’s and your own car parked in the driveway in front of the empty quiet street of the suburbs. Green grass damp with the morning dew brightening up the dark hours of the early winter morning, a colorful painted mailbox even more a stark contrast to the blacks and deep blues that painted the sky. 

Eddie poured himself a cup of coffee and folded himself into the opposite chair, a low groan slipping past his lips at the action. All you did was glance over to him, at the interruption, but Eddie's eyes were fixed on the maple of the table as his hands wrapped around the dark Star Wars mug, the same one he drank his coffee in every morning, just like you with your Zelda mug. Before you flicked your eyes back to the view of the street through the window you noticed Eddie was shirtless, pale skin dampened in the lack of light shining at him, torso littered with tattoos, snaking up his arms and chest, down to his hips. He too hadn’t bothered to change into day clothes yet.

The silence loomed over the small open kitchen as you both sipped your coffee in quiet, you refusing to meet his gaze as Eddie chanced glances at you, trying to gather what mood you were in and by extension how the rest of the day would look like. All he could understand was that you were nowhere near happy and that meant that his day would probably be even longer than the workweek had been. 

He cleared his throat in an attempt to get you to look at him but you blatantly ignored him and continued staring out the window. Just as he was about to try again the familiar noise of tiny feet tread the steps down the stairs that he had taken not long ago. In an instant both of your heads turned in the direction of the hall awaiting Ophelia, eyes fixed on the corner before a head of messy brown curls appeared. 

In her blue whale pajamas, clutching her favorite teddy bear, Mr Burr as she so pleasantly called him. Rugged white fabric, fluff lost with the amount of love it had been given the past four and a half years and stuffing unevenly placed in the head and body, leaving a thin long neck on the seal in its rightful position of Ophi’s elbow. 

“Hia baby” had it been any other day your voice would be alot more chipper, but today, you couldn't muster up the strength, your tone was flat and croaky, clear evidence of the night before. Eddie winced behind you as he heard it, you were probably not feeling very well and he couldn't help but feel the slight guilt that part of it was his fault with the fighting yesterday, but also not being there to dote on you the morning after you had been out drinking. 

“Hi” Ophis' voice was near a whisper, still tired and not fully awake, she walked over to you, holding her hands out expectantly. You groaned as your weak muscles worked to pick your daughter up and sit her in your lap, that too made Eddie wince, guilt bubbling up even more than it already had. “Sleep ok?” he leaned over the table to let her slide her small hand into his big palm “No it was too loud” she complained as she let her dad wrap his fingers around her wrist. “Oh I’m sorry baby, were mommy and daddy talking too loud? you should have come in and told us” you hugged her to you as you felt bad about keeping your daughter up. “Probably would have helped me get to bed faster than staying up till 4 am” you mumbled, too groggy and hoarse for Ophi to understand what you were saying. Eddie let go of his daughter's hand with an eye roll, occupying himself with a large gulp of bitter coffee instead. 

“Why were you and daddy fighting?” Ophelia turned to you as she nuzzled her head to your collarbone “Me and daddy just had a little argument” you explained as a hand instinctively went to comfort her, smoothing down her hair atop her head. “What was it about?” she pressed as Eddie stood up from his seat to prepare a bowl of cereal for her and later on, her sister. 

You looked over at him and decided, you may as well just tell her “Hmm well you know when Daddy says you can’t wear some things?” looking down at her. “Oh great turn our daughter against me” Eddie grumbled as he poured milk into a pink plastic bowl, you scowled at him as the little girl spoke “Yeah, I don't like that, he tells Woxy too” she frowned up at you, it was difficult to take her seriously as she tried to pronounce her sister Roxette’s nickname. “Yeah well daddy does that with me too” you explained in a soft tone, despite the fact that you were actually really annoyed at the fact. “Why? Daddy says it's because I'm just little but you’re old” you chuckled, not catching the way Eddie's lips tugged up at the corners. “Yeah, I’m old” 

Eddie sat back down before placing the bowl and a small spoon in front of Ophelia's usual place at the kitchen table, signaling for you to let her down so she could eat. Ophelia crawled down and then up again to sit with her knees digging into the specially placed cushion on her chair. 

“Daddy” she looked up after a few mouthfuls “Hm?” he turned to give her his full attention “Why can't mommy wear what she wants? She’s not little, she's a woman” Ophelia asked confused. The gears were visibly turning in Eddie's brain as he thought over how best to explain it, he couldn't exactly tell his almost 5 year old daughter that her mom couldn’t waltz around in skirts that he barely considered an actual article of clothing and tops that reveal the things that are only for his eyes to see. “Um… well” he was fighting for words. “Because sometimes Daddy forgets that I’m not little like you” you interrupted, booping Ophelia's nose to earn a light giggle “So he forgets that it's not okay for him to tell me how to dress” even though your voice is soft you shoot Eddie a hard glare giving him insight into how you were actually feeling about him at the moment. 

Eddie rolled his eyes again and sat back in his chair, bringing the black ceramic up to his lips. “But listen Ophi, ok this is very important” you lent forward to catch her eye “When you become a big girl and same goes for your sister, if someone other than me or your daddy ever tells you what you can and can't do you have to come to us, and tell us ok?” Ophelia nodded in understanding “Especially if it's a boy ok? Because it's very important that you remember that you are your own person, and that no one can tell you how to dress ok?” Ophelia nodded again “You gonna come tell us if that happens?” “Yeah” Ophelia nodded happily as you sat back to mimic Eddie and bring your own coffee cup up to your lips and your eldest began her meal again. 

You recognised Eddie's face as he stared unfocused behind you, he was clearly mulling something over by the looks of it arguing with himself in his mind. Under any other circumstances you would ask him “Penny for your thought princess?” in some corny southern british accent, but today you simply didn't want to know. 

Ophelia seemed not to notice the tension between her two parents as she told you both about a strange dream she had where Eddie’s guitar had turned into an airplane and she had flown off with her friend Louise Harrington in it, both you and Eddie humoring her as she spoke with mouthfuls of cheerios. Soon enough she was situated under a blanket with various stuffed animals and a bottle of water on the couch to watch her morning cartoons next to three year old little Roxette who munched on some cut up slices of toast by Eddie and sat watching intently as bright colors lit up the screen. 

As Eddie got Ophelia and Roxette settled you pulled yourself upstairs with the intent of a shower and a fresh change of clothes, but decided to belly flop head first into the soft pillows of your bed, almost dozing off as the door next to your right opened. You didn't bother looking up as you heard Eddie close the door carefully and tiptoed around the bed to his own side, under the impression that you had passed out but was instantly startled as you awkwardly turned your head to press your cheek into the pillows, facing Eddie as he was about to climb back into bed himself. 

Your voice was muffled against the pillow as you spoke, “Come to shout about what a massive slut I am again?” Eddie cringed as he heard you, he took a deep breath before sitting down next to you, his back to the headboard. “No..” he sighed “You sure? Or would you maybe prefer attention seeking.. whore? Was it? No no wait, seeking attention like some common whore, that's what it was” Eddie shrunk in on himself as you repeated the words he had shouted at you in fury the night before, you knew Eddie would come around, you knew he would apologize, but this particular time you felt he had really crossed a line so you had no problem sprinkling some salt in his wounds. 

“Baby.. I’m sorry” he whispered as he leaned over to place a hand on your back and rub it up and down. “Mmmm” you sarcastically hummed “I-I really shouldn't have said that, I was being an absolute dick” at that you hummed in agreement, face still half smushed into the pillows as you looked up at him. “I just, you know how I feel about Billy.. I already don't want him around you, and when I saw you come home like that I just knew he was probably lapping it up” a roll of your eyes “But I took my anger out on the wrong person, I’m really sorry” Eddie moved down the bed to lie on his side as his hand continued rubbing up and down your back. 

“Mhm and?” you looked at him as his face was now level with yours “And..” he breathed fighting a roll of his eyes, he knew what you were doing “I just thought about you know if Ophelia or Roxette ever comes home with a boyfriend” “mhm” you coaxed him on “I wouldn't be that happy to know he was telling them what to wear” you broke out into a wide smug grin, even though there were a few more things to unpack about yesterday, an apology was all you needed for the moment. 

“Yup” you popped the ‘p’ even more smug, this time Eddie did actually roll his eyes but a playful grin tugged at his lips. “But” Eddie’s face suddenly went serious “I would… appreciate if maybe you don't wear those kinds of outfits around, at least Billy in the future” he was feeling sheepish at his request. “In my defense” you pushed yourself up to lay your head on your crossed forearms “I didn’t actually know Billy was gonna be there” you grinned “also if I knew that, do you seriously think I would have worn that?” Eddie chuckled “Yeah ok no, that's true” another smug hum of approval. “Mmmm but why you gotta wear that stuff anyway” he started of with a hint of a whine “Who you tryna impress when you have a big hunky husband with the biggest dick you've ever set your eyes on” a loud snort rang through the room as you turned to lie on your side, letting Eddie scoot closer and wrap his arms around you. 

“Maybe I’m tryna impress my boss, ya know get myself a sweet promotion, or maybe that so called big dick you pride yourself just isn't cutting it anymore” you nuzzled your face into his bare chest as it vibrated with laughter “Well first of all you are the boss, hate to break it to ya butchya’ can’t really get promoted babe, second whatchu’ talkin’ ‘bout woman, just last morning you were drooling over it” you rolled your eyes as a big amused smile spread across your face. 

“Well now you're just lying, I was not drooling” 

“Oh Eddie! Oh Eddie god! Oh my god! AAUUH Ugh! Your cock is so big oh my goood! Fuck Eddie yes! Yes! YEEES!” Eddie's voice turned into an awfully high pitched imitation of a girl's voice as he whispered as to not let the girls hear, whole body shaking with you in his grasp to get his point across further. 

“Oh my god shut up!” you clasped a hand around his mouth which Eddie easily pulled away to kiss at your knuckles “I’m getting a divorce” you giggle as you cozy up to Eddie.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 2]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: I have decided to update this every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 7:00 PM EST. Thank you to everyone who wrote me a little note or asked to be tagged! I'm so glad that you all are liking this so far, I hope you enjoy this one!

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, and language.

Masterlist & Playlist

After a busy week, Friday morning came a lot sooner than you were expecting. You had tried three different new restaurants this week, a new bakery that had opened up a few blocks away, and been to one movie opening- all for your column. Whatever you could do to keep yourself focused on anything other than this dinner party, which loomed over you like a giant, storm cloud of anxiety.

You were already awake when Aegon's alarm went off. He sighed and rolled over, fumbling with his phone screen until the alarm was silenced. Once again, you felt the bed shift as he stood up and headed towards the bathroom. You sat up in bed, head in your hands, as you tried to rid your mind of the thought of Aegon's brother; trying your hardest to convince yourself that you were reading too much into the very short interaction you had with him in the check-out line just days ago. There was something that you couldn't shake, however, and you hated it.

"Hey," you looked up to see Aegon standing in the doorframe with a towel wrapped around his waist, his lips were curled into a small but surprised smile. "You're awake."

He crossed the room to your side of the bed and placed a kiss on the top of your head. You could see tiny beads of water falling from his golden hair to his collarbones, your eyes lingered there for a moment as you tried to figure out the best words to ask what was on your mind. He turned towards the closet, but your hand reached to stop him.

"How come you never talk about your family?" You asked, straightforward, lacing your fingers between his.

At first, his face fell, and then he shrugged. His fingers pulled away from you as he turned away. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he paced towards the closet. Your eyes followed him as he pulled a shirt from the hanger and tossed it on the bed. You were sure that he wasn't going to answer the question.

"Why do you ask?"

You shrugged, but his back was towards you as he searched for a tie that matched his shirt. "You've never really talked about them, I figured there had to be a reason." You could have sworn you heard him exhale a chuckle. "And we're about to have dinner with your brother and I know nothing about him."

Aegon stopped his search for a tie and stood up straight, pausing for a few seconds before answering. "Aemond's the favorite," he said and even though his back was still towards you, you could tell that he was frowning. "He's always been the favorite. He's the baby, and yet, he always acted like the oldest- every time I ran away it was Aemond who would come looking for me."

He turned to you with a melancholy smile and sighed. You hung your head, not wanting to meet his sad eyes and nodded, your fingers became fixated on a long thread that had come unlaced from the hem of your sheets. Aegon didn't say another word about it, and you didn't dare pry. It was wrong of you to bring it up in the first place, knowing that he didn't want to discuss the topic. For the last four years, Aegon had successfully kept you separate from his family, and you had never felt the reason to ask why; until you met Aemond.

And for that reason alone, your intentions were purely selfish.

You stood up and walked into the kitchen while he got dressed, not wanting to sit in the midst of an awkward silence with someone that, at this point, you should be completely comfortable with- no matter what the conversation is about. Typically, you'd wait for him to leave before you started getting ready, but today you started your own routine early; committing to picking up coffee for Baela and Jace before work.

A small grocery list that you had scribbled on a post-it note stuck to your fridge; cheese, wine, milk, cereal, sugar. Aegon had messily scribbled 'soap' at the bottom. You peeled it from the door and stuck it to the inside of your wallet ensuring that you wouldn't forget it. You still weren't entirely sure what you were cooking for this little family reunion Aegon had planned. He had said, "whatever you think is good", and you internally screamed at him; not knowing what his brother liked or didn't like to eat, if he enjoyed wine or beer, did he have any allergies?

You were in the shower when you heard the front door open and shut, signaling that Aegon had left for work. There was no 'see you later', no 'I hope that you have a good day', no kiss goodbye. Just a front door closing a little too hard on the way out. You were meant to host a small dinner party, cook the food, put away the leftovers, and wash the dishes and couldn't even manage to get an 'I love you' before work. A sigh escaped your lips as you compartmentalized it along with everything else when it came to Aegon.

"It's okay," you told yourself as you checked your reflection in the mirror one last time before grabbing your umbrella and tossing your scarf around your neck. "Everything is fine."

It was colder than it had been all week. The Weather Channel was calling for sleet and snow into the evening. You almost prayed that it would be enough for Aemond to cancel, but you knew the chances were unlikely. Flurries fell from the dark sky as you waited to cross the icy street. The morning was hazy, but the streets were buzzing with hopes of the weekend. The bright lights reflected illuminations of neon on the damp pavement and storefronts had begun putting up signs in their windows 'LAST CHANCE 70% EVERYTHING', 'NEW YEARS SALE BOGO'.

Baela and Jace were already tucked into their desks when you came striding into the office. You waved at a couple of your other coworkers as you walked by their desks; asking them how they were doing but not actually stopping to hear the answer.

"For you, happy Friday!" You sang as you skirted around Baela's desk, placing her iced latte on her desk in front of her. You rounded the corner to Jace's cubicle and presented him with a hot chocolate and a cake pop. "And, happy birthday to you!"

"Thank you so much," he replied with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am, thank you so much!" Baela chimed in. "You're in a good mood this morning, anything you'd like to share with the class?"

"I'm not, actually." You sighed, draping your scarf on the coat rack. "I am probably looking too much into this, but I just can't stop thinking about Aemond. It's driving me fucking crazy, Baela, it was a two minute interaction."

"I'm sorry," Jace had rounded the corner in his desk chair and looked at you. "Who is Aemond?"

You blinked at him a few times before Baela chimed in, "Aemond is Aegon's younger brother. Y/N met him at the grocery store, but she didn't know he was Aegon's brother at first, and she said it was- and I quote- flirty."

"Ooh, flirty!" Jace laughed sarcastically.

"It's not that," you replied. You rolled your eyes at them but turned back to Jace so that he was up to speed. "When Aegon got home, he was on talking to Aemond on the phone, and Aemond not once mentioned that we had met at the store. That's weird right? I mean, like I'd say something if it was my brother."

"But did you tell Aegon?" Baela asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"No," you replied with a sharp breath. "Don't ask why, I don't know."

"Suspicious," Jace chided, making a face.

"You've got to let us know how the dinner goes," Baela added.

"Wait, you're not coming anymore?" Your face immediately fell as you turned to her in your desk chair, you noticed Jace wheel himself back over to his own cubicle, giving you two some privacy. You took note of her face and sighed. "You forgot."

Baela pouted and turned to face you. "I'm so sorry, and I made plans to go out to dinner with- well, this guy I'm kind of dating."

“Can you not reschedule?” You ask selfishly. “I really need you to be there. You’re my best friend, Bae. Be my buffer, please? You can use this incredibly awkward scenario for your column next week and it will make it all worth it.”

Baela's shoulders fell. You plead with her; pouting, with your hands folded under your chin.

“Fine,” she said. “Only because I want to meet this mysterious brother who you've only just met and is already causing you this much grief.”

The remainder of the day seemed to go by rather quickly as you finished and submitted this week's column for review. You had picked up the things on your grocery list and also one of those family-style meals from the deli section of the store; you had wanted to cook something of your own but then you remembered this morning and changed your mind. Why put in that much effort when it wouldn't even be appreciated?

Aegon was already home when you came through the door, his voice carried through the quiet apartment. You struggled to pull the key out of the deadlock, your arms were stacked with paper grocery bags. You slipped out of your heels immediately, knowing that you would most likely have blisters tomorrow morning. The cool hardwood floor felt good on your sore feet, as you carried the bags into the kitchen.

"Hey Aeg," you called to him. No answer. "Aeg?"

"Excuse me, bear with me just a moment. I apologize," you heard him say into the phone. He walked halfway down the stairs and leaned over the bannister; holding his phone out so that you knew he was on a call. His hand was covering the bottom half. "I'm on with dick-face!" He whisper yelled at you.

You held your hands up defensively, and mouthed the word 'sorry' as if you were supposed to know he was on the phone with his grandfather. He turned and headed back up the stairs, resuming his conversation with Otto. All you wanted was to see if he would have liked to help set up- it could have been fun.

Baela was your saving grace, however, arriving right on time with a cheese tray in one hand and a bottle of red in the other. She poured herself a glass before she began setting up the table. You focused on making sure the Lasagna wasn't burning, and Aegon remained a hermit in his office the entire time. You were starting to wonder if he was even going to show up to the dinner party that he had planned.

A knock came from the front door. Baela's eyes caught yours and you could feel your stomach drop to the tile floor beneath your feet. Your eyes flickered up to the clock; three minutes past seven. Before you could even wipe your hands or brush the hair out of your face, the sound of footsteps on the staircase echoed throughout the apartment.

"Of course he comes down now," you muttered.

You could hear them together in the other room; "it's so good to see you" and "it's been too long" and "make yourself at home". Baela had already begun refilling her wine glass and you held your own glass out to her, as well.

You'd be needing it.

The timer on the oven went off and you turned your attention back to the stove; slipping an oven mitt over your hand and pulling out the tray of Lasagna. You looked at it, making a face, ignoring the intrusive thought to just throw it at the wall.

"Everyone," you could hear from behind you as Aegon stepped into the kitchen. "This is my brother, Aemond."

You definitely didn't miss the way that Baela's eyebrow arched when he stepped into the room. Her dark brown eyes flickering over to you for a split second before she took a few steps toward Aemond and extended her hand to him. "I'm Baela, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Lovely to meet you, Baela." He replied before turning to you.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend," Aegon introduced. "I don't know where I'd be without her."

Aemond's lips turned up into the smallest of smirks. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the woman who has had such an affect on my brother," he offered his hand.

You narrowed your eyes at him wondering what kind of game he was playing, but took his hand anyway. "It's nice to meet you, as well." His hands were still cold to the touch. "Could I get you something to drink?"

"I got it," Aegon replied as he was digging through the refrigerator. He came back up with two bottles of beer.

"More wine for me," Baela laughed to ease the tension.

Over the course of the next hour you and Baela talked mostly about work and the plans for Jace's birthday party, while Aegon and Aemond caught up. You tried your hardest focus on Baela, but couldn't help but keep an ear open to the conversation happening next to you; latching on to any bit of information Aegon put forward about his family. Aemond apparently hadn't been to see his father yet since getting home; you were aware of his health situation, not because Aegon confided in you, but because you worked for The Post- and that sort of thing was headlining news.

Aegon mostly ranted about working with Otto, praising his brother for getting out while he could. The look on Aemond's face would say he didn't agree.

"What I would have given to trade places with you," Aegon muttered as he ran a hand through his hair.

"But look at you now, brother." Aemond replied with a smirk. "Primed and prepped to take over when father-"

"I hope they give it to her," Aegon stated. His voice a bit too loud for casual dinner conversation. You stopped chewing and looked over at him. "I really do."

"Why don't we go get some fresh air?" Aemond asked him and Aegon nodded; he was on his fourth bottle of beer.

You stood up with a sigh and muttered an apology to Baela before getting up and placing your plate in the sink. The legs of her chair scraped across the floor and she stood up and you could hear the clinking of the silverware as she picked up her plate, as well. You felt an elbow nudge into your side and glanced over to see her leaning up against the countertop.

"Maybe it's a good thing he's back in town." She offered softly. "You know, for Aegon. He seems kind of on edge, lately." You nodded in reply. "But, you didn't tell me he looked like that," her tone dropped another octave.

"I told you he was very good looking," a sigh escapes your lips as you refill your wine glass.

"Even with an eye patch- the guy is- let me just say, I definitely don't fault you for feeling the need to overthink about it," she continued. "But he is Aegon's brother, so that's kind of-" Baela held her hands up to signal 'hands-off'.

"And it's weird that he wouldn't tell Aeg that we had already met, right?" You whispered back. "Like we had to pretend to meet all over again. That's weird."

"What's weird is that he didn't tell Aegon that you had already met and he's been staring at you all night." You blush at her words. "Which, you know, can't fault him for that. You look good tonight, bitch." You opened your mouth to say something, but Baela held her hand up. "But he is Aegon's brother, Y/N. It's a real good idea to just leave it where it lies."

"You're right," you say but your shoulders fall.

For some reason a pit of disappointment resonated in your chest. The way that she said that- that Aemond was Aegon's brother- as if you weren't already aware, or already cursing yourself for reading between the lines of his pale, pink smirk that remained ever-present on his lips when he spoke to you. Maybe it wasn't disappointment that you were feeling.

Maybe it was guilt.

"Shit," Baela's voice brought you back to reality. "It's later than I thought."

You heard the front door open and saw Aegon come back in with Aemond close behind. His eyes were bloodshot from either crying or smoking, it was too soon to tell, but he gave you a pouty smile as he took off his jacket and hung it on the coatrack.

"You are still coming tomorrow, right?" Baela asked.

"What's tomorrow?" Aegon asked as he joined you at your side- he had been smoking.

"Jace's party," you replied. "Remember I asked if you wanted to go?"

Aegon squinted as he tried to recall. It was Tuesday night. You were sitting next to him on the couch as he watched the Nightly News and he said that he would 'have to check his calendar'. He shook his head, "I don't, I'm sorry. When is it?"

"Tomorrow," Baela repeated, noticing your disappointment. "We're meeting at Frames around eight."

"I've got that awards ceremony tomorrow night." Aegon replied as he scrolled through his phone. "Are you going to that?" He asked his brother.

"I could think of a thousand and one things I would rather be doing," Aemond smirked again, making eye contact with you. "Think I'll pass."

"Well, I will see you tomorrow, Bae." You chirped up, moving to see your friend out.

She mouthed the words 'be careful' as she shrugged into her coat and gave you a hug before disappearing out the front door and down the hallway to the elevator.

And then there were three.

When you stepped back into the kitchen Aemond was doing your dishes. Aegon was sitting at the kitchen table munching on a handful of cheese cubes and talking about a memory from their childhood that involved their sister Helaena.

"You cried like a fucking baby, dude." Aegon laughed.

Aemond laughed, "you're mistaken. You cried like baby. Helaena and I were crying from laughter."

Aegon shook his head and rolled his eyes. His phone was vibrating on the table. You knew who it was without even looking. It didn't matter what time of day it was, if Otto needed something, Aegon's phone was ringing. Sometimes you wondered if he ever needed help wiping his own ass if Aegon would be there waiting with the softest roll of organic bamboo toilet paper.

"Does he ever stop calling?" Aemond asked as he turned off the faucet.

"No," both you and Aegon answered in unison.

"I'll be right back," he sighed as he picked up his phone. "He's never going to stop."

Aemond turned to face you as you took a seat in the chair that Aegon had been sitting in. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him drying his hands on the small cloth that draped over the stove handle. He crossed the room in two steps, pulling another chair out from underneath the table and sitting down opposite you.

You looked up at him as he slid your wine glass over to you. "Thank you," you mentioned as he popped the cork on the last little bit of red that was left in the bottle and refilled your glass. "And thank you for doing the dishes, you didn't have to."

"You shouldn't have to do everything," he said softly.

Your words suddenly became caught in your throat and all you could do was look at him; his jawline, his nose, the way the neckline of his sweater sat against his pale skin. You took a sip of your wine to distract yourself and hoped that he didn't realize you were staring. A comfortable silence hung in the air, and you would have been perfectly happy to just sit there in it with him.

"He's like a different person since I've seen him last," Aemond mentioned quietly, you could hear your boyfriend in the background still talking about work.

You nodded, "I don't know what happened, honestly."

"Oh, I do," Aemond shrugged. "You happened. I've never seen Aegon act this way over a girl before, never." Aemond took a sip from his beer bottle. "He's smitten."

You chuckled to yourself, and your eyes dropped to your lap. You frowned as you thought about the irony in that statement. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond turn to face you. "I should finish the dishes."

You stood up and made your way over to the sink, turning on the faucet and waiting for the water to become hot.

You pushed up the sleeves on your sweater and sighed. It hurt that your relationship with Aegon had turned into what it was. You hated being reminded of it, and you were reminded of it constantly. From Baela asking about it every morning, to every happy couple you saw in the subway, seeing things that would remind you of him as you passed by window displays, and hearing certain songs on car radios as they passed by on the street.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You turned from the sink as you heard Aemond's honey-coated voice behind you.

"Oh, no, I'm okay," you answered with a fake smile. "Actually, can you grab those glasses on the table for me?"

Aemond nodded and met you at the counter with the wine glasses in hand. He placed his free hand on the small of your back as he bent to place them into the sink. You felt the contact of his fingertips just slightly pressing into your skin where your sweater had risen up. You looked up at him out of the corner of your eye, his lips turned up into a tight-lipped smirk.

He was standing so close to you, too close.

And fuck he was infuriatingly tall.

"You know," his voice was low as he turned and propped himself against the countertop; his elbow holding him upright. "I know he's my brother, but he's also a twat. Honestly, more of a twat now than he was when I last saw him."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, leaning into him playfully. You were thankful that he had somehow found a way to comfort you without having to talk about it. You could hear the sound of footsteps on the staircase and Aemond straighten himself, taking a step back and taking one last swig from his beer bottle.

"Shit, Otto is such a dick sometimes," Aegon groaned as he entered the kitchen.

"He's our grandfather, Aegon." Aemond remarked.

"He's still a dick." Aegon downed the last bit of his wine before setting the glass in the sink for you to clean. "So when are you going to see Hel?"

"Mom was talking about having a dinner. Have you spoken to her?"

You could basically hear Aegon shaking his head as he laughed sarcastically. "What do you think?" He asked his brother. Aegon never talked to his mother. He never talked about her. He never answered any of her calls. "I've done everything they've ever wanted, you think they'll pick up the phone to tell me 'good job, Aeg'? No, not once."

Aemond crossed the kitchen to place his beer bottle in the recycling bin. "Call her," he urged and placed a hand on Aegon's shoulder. He turned to you and placed a hand under your elbow. "It was a wonderful dinner, Y/N, thank you so much. If you need a partner tomorrow night, I'm pretty good at bowling."

"Of course, thank you." You would have offered him your hand but it was elbow deep in soapy water.

He gave you one last smile before turning back to Aegon. "Come on, see me out."

They disappeared into the living room and you could hear them bickering back and forth; typical brothers, incapable of just telling one another that they loved each other and hugging it out. You hoped that maybe having Aemond around would help Aegon heal whatever wounds there were between him and the other members of his family. Especially his mother and his father.

Moments later Aegon snaked his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. "Thank you," he said softly and placed a kiss into your neck. "I don't deserve you."

A frown pulled down at your lips, your heart breaking at his words. You pulled the plug from the drain and dried your hands on a kitchen towel. Aegon's hands on your hips turned you to face him and you draped your arms over his shoulders. He leaned his forehead against yours, and for the first time in months, you felt close to him.

"I love you," you whispered.

He moved his lips to place a kiss on your forehead; they lingered there for a moment and you could feel him sigh. "I love you."

Your hands found their way to his waist; fingers curling around his belt loops, slightly pulling him closer to you. He reached up and cupped your face in his hands and placed another kiss on the tip of your nose. His eyes were soft as he brushed your hair back out of your face. Your eyes searched his for all of the words that you'd wish he'd say, but all he could offer was a lopsided smile.

"I'm exhausted," he yawned and took a step back from you, allowing your hands to drop down to your sides. "You ready for bed?"

"Yeah," you replied without making eye contact. "I'll be in there in a minute."

Aegon nodded and turned, leaving you standing in the middle of your kitchen as he headed down the hallway towards the bedroom. You frowned and clamped your eyes shut to keep yourself from crying.

The feeling was definitely guilt.

Tagged:

@tssf-imagines @gothicwidowsworld @itsabby15 @possiblyafangirl @namelesslosers @toodlesxcuddles @hiraethrhapsody @heavenly1927 @chainsawsangel

[mncxbe]

11:11♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

You get the love you think you deserve.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst /melancholy

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Dazai slowly falls in love with the woman who shelters him during the two years after he left the Mafia.

This is one of my first works and I'm so happy I finally get to share it with you. I wrote it while listening to the guitar version of Mary by Alex G. So basically that's the vibe. Enjoy!

"𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮"

That's what she always said.

He never gave too much thought to this idea until now. Not when they met that Friday evening in the dim-lit bar, not during the two year stay at her place and certainly not when she joined the organization he worked for. But now, as he was standing in front of her apartment buliding holding a bouquet of honeysuckle in one hand and saw him exit through the front doors, this thought popped into his mind.

It all started around four years ago. He never thought that someone could change his life as drastically as she did. She waltzed right into his mind and heart and never left. He still remembers their first encounter. He didn't even notice her staying on the red cushion chair opposite to his until she came over. "Hello stranger" she said as she set down her glass of champagne next to his "You look lonely". That evening she wore a crimson red dress. Her brown eyes looked so innocent, so kind. She took a seat next to him and extended her hand "I'm Y/N" she said with a warm smile on her face. As he shook her hand he didn't fail to notice how cold it was. He chuckled and took a sip of his drink. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time: favourite colours, great places to eat, cats and the weather. It was only when he mentioned his work that her wide smile turned into a frown. She listened as he told her all about his worries, how he was going to leave the mafia and had nowhere to go. When he was done talking she simply looked him in the eyes and offered to take him in. For a second he was awestruck, but he eventually agreed. They made their way back to her apartment, a way he still knows up to this day like the back of his hand.

They went up to the 17th floor. As soon as he entered her apartment he was met with a view of the city. The blinding lights of the buildings and boulevards blinded him. He heard her footsteps behind and turned to face her. A smile was plastered across her face as she crossed her arms.

"So? Do you like it here?" she asked.

"I love it" he replied.

In no more than three weeks he returned to her place carrying a bag with his belongings. He didn't pack almost any clothes so she would sometimes go and buy him some things.

It was funny for him to see how almost everything turned from hers to their. Her kitchen became their kitchen, her slippers, their slippers. After a while her bed became their bed, her memories became their memories. It was all too perfect and he knew that. The only thing that wasn't shared was his blooming love for her.

He first noticed the feelings on a rainy night after she returned from a gone-bad date with some guy. She was crying and he held her as she told him how shitty the dude was. He wanted to hold her like this forever, shield her from all the bad things in the world. "Y𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮". That's when she told him that night.

He never mentioned his feelings, but how could he? It would be wrong, unfair. She was so good to him, never asking for anything in return no matter how much she did. And she did a lot. She was always working and running around town, buying groceries, hanging out with friends, picking books for him to read while she was away. Kindness and friendship. That's what she showed him. She held him whenever he was sad or lonely and cooked for him on Sunday morning. Her favourite time of the year was Christmas. She always bought a tree that they decorated together. On new year's eve she was usually out with her friends but he always texted him some wishes at 12:00, followed by a long string of colourful hearts. The next day she would always sleep in so he made her breakfast in bed. That's how the years went by.

When he moved out 2 years later and joined the Ada she made sure that he had a new wardrobe full of clothes. "New job, new you" she said with a smirk on her face. He always loved that smile. The last day they spent together he made her promise not to tell anyone about the past two years. He was a brand new person with a future ahead and a career that couldn't be compromised. She reluctantly agreed and gave him a big hug before he left the apartment. He took almost everything he owned. All he left behind were some worn T-shirts. And his home, the only true home he ever had.

Around a year later she joined the organization as Ranpo's tutor. She wanted to pursue her dream of becoming a detective. She didn't have any ability and the job was dangerous, but if Ranpo managed to stay alive for so long so could she. Little did she know that he was protecting her from all dangers. It was time for him to keep her safe, to return her favour. Althought they had to hide their relationship, they still talked from time to time. He quickly got used to the sight of her in that grey uniform, with her hair tied up in a bun and a cup of coffee next to her as she was working on different cases.

One particular night the organization attended a party. She was there too, wearing a gorgeous black dress. Her heels made a clicking sound as she walked up to a waiter and took a glass of champagne from his tray. All eyes were on her that night, his included. She was mesmerizing. She danced and drank and cracked jokes with everyone, while he stood in the back observing her. It may have been the alcohol but that night he decided to finally confess his feelings. After all, she never had a boyfriend since they met, she never even saw anyone as far as he new and it must have meant something. Maybe she loved him too. He went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face but by the time he was back she was already gone. Kunikida said he didn't notice her leave so he started to worry. He quickly noticed the absence of his former tutor too, who was attending the party for the mafia. His heart sank when he considered the possibility of them leaving together but he brushed this thought away. He left the party soon after and opened her chat. The last message he sent was over a year ago "I'll come over tomorrow morning. Is that ok?" he quickly typed and pressed sent. The text came back almost instantaneously: "Ok Ill be waiting for you♡".

He smiled as he let his phone slide back into his pocket. She'll be waiting for him.

The next morning he made sure to put on his nicest clothes and bought her her favourite flowers. His anxiety increased as

he was approaching her building, not knowing what exactly he was going to say to her. Confessing after all these years seemed like madness, but he was a madman. His train of thought was interruped by a familiar figure leaving the building. Akutagawa. He didnt even notice him as he closed the grand doors, a dumb smile on his face. It was a smile he himself wore whenever he saw her. The smile of a man in love. His hopes shattered at this sight. All his fears came true and he started spiraling. But suddenly his mind cleared, her voice sounding loud and clear in his head: "𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮" .

He sighed and turned around, letting the bouquet fall from his hands as he turned around and made his way back home.

A few minutes after he entered his apartment his phone chimed. He saw her name on the display:

"Are you still coming over? It s almost noon :(". A sad grin made its way to his lips as he quickly texted back "Sorry I won't make it today. Don't worry it was nothing important anyway. Go get some rest". He set his phone down without waiting for her reply and he grabbed his glass of whiskey. His vision began to blur as he sipped his drink. Soon after tears started streaming down his face like a waterfall. He cried away all his sorrows and regrets, but this time she wasn't by his side to comfort him.

○☆°

// the honeysuckle is a symbol of pure happiness. In addition, it conveys messages of sweetness and affection. At its heaviest interpretation, the honeysuckle represents the flames of love, and the tenderness for love that has been lost.

[totowlff]

chapter forty-three — multiply

➝ elisabeth's health starts to be a source of concern for her and toto

➝ word count: 3,7k

➝ warnings: health issues

➝ author’s note: the last few weeks have been very complex for me. in addition to the tiredness and melancholy that has been affecting me lately, my parents decided to get divorced, which should have been normal for an adult daughter but, emotionally, it affected me a lot. i really felt lost and was particularly tempted to just give up on everything and focus on just existing. however, your love for my stories motivates me to keep going. thank you for every message, comment or tag, thank you. and, if there's anything i can do to thank you, it's to deliver a chapter of this special story.

MAY, 2018

A sepulchral silence took over the garage.

Holding Valtteri's helmet in her hands, Elisabeth stared at him transfixed. His face couldn't hide the feeling of absolute shock at what had just happened. She couldn't blame him, after all, who would expect to start Friday's first free practice in Monaco with a vomited helmet?

— Liesl, are you okay? — she heard Toto ask, as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

However, Elisabeth didn't have time to respond before a new wave of nausea rose through her chest, her mouth filling with saliva. And then, she put her face back to the helmet, putting out what was left of her breakfast, to the sound of a collective groan from the people present inside the garage as they witnessed the scene.

When Elisabeth raised her head again, she was panting. There was also a strange feeling of emptiness in her stomach, accompanied by the dizziness and tiredness that had accompanied her for a few days.

— Are you feeling better, my love? — Toto asked softly — Breathe through your nose, let it out through your mouth.

— A little — she managed to reply, as the team principal took the helmet from her hands and handed it to Antti. Elisabeth couldn't tell if the physiotherapist had made any expression of disgust when taking the object, as Toto led her to one of the chairs, while Emilia handed her a bottle of water.

— Did she eat anything this morning? — Valtteri asked, crossing his arms.

— Yes, we had breakfast together, everything was fine — Toto said, running a hand through Elisabeth's hair.

She tried to focus on her own breathing, still breathless from the effort she had made to get it all out. However, this was more difficult than she imagined, especially with her mind working to figure out what was happening to herself.

Elisabeth had been feeling strange for some time. In addition to a particularly irritating headache and persistent fatigue, she had a constantly stuffy nose. “I can only have a flu”, she thought, as she took another sip of water, grimacing when she realized that its taste seemed somewhat metallic.

While she was questioning herself about the taste of the water, Toto said something about a boat and a hotel to Valtteri and Bradley, who seemed to agree. Then, Elisabeth noticed that he was crouched in front of her, concern clear in his eyes.

— Do you think you can walk?

— I think… Yes… Why?

— Let's go back to the hotel.

She blinked, confused.

— But, there’s still free practices today…

— Come, Liesl — Toto said, getting up and offering her a hand. Standing with some difficulty due to dizziness, Elisabeth took a few more sips of water before leaving the boxes towards the walkway that led to the paddock. From there, they headed towards the marina that was right behind the teams' motorhomes, with the intention of taking a taxi boat to cross the bay, as the streets in downtown Monaco were closed for the Formula 1 activities.

“What a shitty idea”, Elisabeth thought, as her stomach turned with the rocking of the boat. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on her own breathing, remembering what Toto had said to her while still inside the garage. “Breathe through your nose, let it out through your mouth”, he repeated in her mind.

— Liesl? — Toto asked softly, taking her hand — Are you okay?

Elisabeth shook her head positively, in an attempt to reassure him.

— Yeah, I'm fine — she said softly.

— You don't look fine — he said — Are you feeling sick again?

A stronger wave made her mouth water, the hot sensation of bile rising in her throat making Elisabeth squeeze his hand tightly. She had no idea what there was left to get out, considering they hadn't even gone to lunch yet.

— It's the boat — she murmured — I'll get better when I get out of here.

After a few seconds of silence, Toto let go of her hand. Even though Elisabeth hadn't opened her eyes, she knew he had gotten up from his seat next to her in the boat, which was confirmed when she heard him ask in French how soon they would dock on the other side of the bay. However, she stopped paying attention to the dialogue when a new wave of nausea rose up her neck, causing Elisabeth to seek support on the edge of the bench she was sitting on.

— We're stopping in a minute, Liesl, hang in there — Toto said, putting his arm around her shoulders.

That minute took forever. Not even breathing techniques were able to lessen her anxiety for that short boat trip to end. It was no surprise that Elisabeth almost ran off at full speed when the boat's driver authorized the passengers to disembark. Once on land, she took a few seconds to recover, breathing in the Mediterranean breeze.

— Feeling better, Liesl? — the team principal asked her, looking worried.

— Yeah, a little — Elisabeth replied, feeling her stomach calm down.

Toto smiled.

— Then let's go to the hotel, you need to rest.

The journey to the Hôtel de Paris was peaceful, despite Elisabeth's discomfort persisting. However, what bothered her more than the nausea and dizziness were the possibilities of what could be happening to her. “Is it gastritis? No, I wouldn't be this dizzy because of gastritis”, she thought, as she entered the elevator. When she found her face in the mirror, she was startled by her own paleness due to her discomfort.

“Maybe a virus, or a flu”, Elisabeth asked herself as she left the elevator, heading to the suite where she was staying with Toto. Opening the door for her, he gestured for Elisabeth to go in first, which she obliged with a smile. Once inside the suite, the team principal insisted that she settle down between the cream-colored pillows on the bed.

— Sit down and I'll get you some water — Toto said, as he went to the minibar. Seconds later, he sat next to her on the bed and opened a bottle of water, handing it into Elisabeth's hands. After taking a few sips, she set the bottle down on her lap.

— Thanks...

— You don't need to thank me, Liesl — he replied, placing his hand on her leg.

She smiled shyly, looking at the bottle.

— I didn't want you to miss the free practice — Elisabeth murmured.

— My priority is to take care of you, Liesl, especially considering how much you've already taken care of me.

— I don't want to give you any more trouble...

— Taking care of someone you love isn't a trouble — Toto said, taking her hand — Especially when that person isn't feeling well.

Elisabeth gave a small smile, before taking another sip of water.

— What are you feeling? — he asked softly, his thumb drawing circles on her skin.

— That's what you saw, I'm vomiting, tired, I have a headache — Elisabeth replied, reaching out with her right hand to place the bottle of water on the bedside table on the left. However, when she retracted her arm, she ended up hitting her own breasts, a hiss escaping her lips — Pain in my chest too.

— In your chest?

— Yes, Toto, on my breasts. Even the bra is hurting me because they are really sensitive.

He blinked.

— Elisabeth…

— Yeah?

— I know what you have.

She gave a little smile.

— I know too, it’s just one of those annoying viruses…

— You're pregnant — Toto said, interrupting her.

Silence filled the room.

— What?

— You're pregnant, Liesl — he repeated — It's the only answer, you can only be pregnant.

A few seconds of silence later, Elisabeth let out a laugh.

— Toto, please... That doesn't make any sense.

— Of course it does — he exclaimed — You have all the symptoms that Stephanie had when she was pregnant with Ben and Rosi. The nausea, the vomiting, the headache…

— This could also be a virus…

— Do you know of any virus that leaves women with pain in their breasts?

— Well, no, but that doesn't prove anything.

— Okay, so tell me, when was the last time you had your period?

She tried to remember.

— I don't know, my cycle was never very regular, even with the pills...

— But you menstruate every month — Toto said. When he saw that she had raised an eyebrow at the statement, he smiled — I can tell from the pads. And also because of your humor, but it’s more because of the pads…

Elisabeth snorted.

— Okay, I think it was... I don't know, the end of February, maybe? Early March?

The two looked at each other in silence for a few seconds.

— Noto — Toto murmured, looking at her again — It was in Noto.

The memory of the weekend in the small Italian town made Elisabeth's heart sink. She couldn't have just forgotten to take her contraceptive those days, she just couldn't. However, at the same time, she remembered how strange she had been about taking the Sunday pill on a Tuesday and adjusting the sticker at the top of the pack.

— Noto — she stammered, her lower lip beginning to tremble. That was no longer a silly assumption, but a real possibility that was, to say the least, frightening — Fuck…

In silence, Toto released Elisabeth's hand and got up from the bed. Going towards the table, he took his cell phone and put it in the pocket of his white team shirt, under her frightened gaze.

— Where are you going?

He looked at Elisabeth.

— There's only one way for us to know, right?

— Are you going to buy a test?

— Someone has to buy it, Liesl. Don't leave this room — Toto said, before leaving the suite in quick steps.

The sound of the door closing made Elisabeth release the air she hadn't even realized she was holding in her lungs. She felt completely dazed, her stomach churning again, but this time with tension.

It wasn't like they didn't want to have a baby. Toto had mentioned numerous times his desire to have a child with Elisabeth, a little boy who had blue eyes like hers. And the reason behind that specific detail always made her heart fill with inexplicable warmth.

— So that a piece of you will always be mine too — she repeated to herself, placing her hand carefully on her belly, as if that simple touch could hurt her. Or hurt whoever was under her skin.

“You don’t even know if you’re pregnant, Elisabeth”, she scolded herself, trying to shake the thought away. She shouldn't get her hopes up, it could just be a false alarm, her body playing a trick on them, a stupid prank of nature. But how could a false alarm look so real? How could those strong symptoms just be a figment of her head?

Elisabeth couldn't understand.

Taking another sip of water, she sighed, her mind taking her to the week of last Christmas. With preparations for the evening that she and Toto had decided to organize for both families on the rooftop in full swing, Elisabeth thought it would be fun to take Rosi shopping for the gifts. Between laughter, comments about Toto's disastrous choices for his children and shopping bags, the two went into a toy store to cross off the last items on her list, which were the gifts from Eloise, Ellison and Lennon.

With some toys in the cart, Elisabeth was reading the side of a doll box when she noticed that Rosi had walked away from her, toward a wall filled with toys for much younger children. Toys for babies.

— Everything’s okay, dear? — she asked, touching the girl's shoulder.

— Yeah, Liesl, I was just thinking — Rosi replied, taking a toy in her hand, a kind of butterfly made of flashy fabric, with stripes, polka dots and vibrant colors.

— And could I know what you were thinking about?

— About babies.

She laughed.

— I think it's too early for you to be thinking about babies, Rosi.

— Not if they're my siblings— the girl murmured, giving her a smile.

— Siblings — Elisabeth stammered, tensely.

— Yeah. Your kids with my father.

— Rosi…

— You want to have kids, don't you?

— Yes, we do, Rosi.

Her brown eyes lit up.

— But not now — Elisabeth added, running her hand through the girl's hair — Our routine is very busy, it would be very difficult to deal with a baby now, Rosi.

The girl dropped the toy on the shelf, looking upset.

— I know...

— But, I guarantee you one thing, we will give you a sibling. Someday.

The memory made her run her hand over her face, a little dazed.

She didn't expect that the day she had promised Rosi would come so quickly.

The sound of the door opening made Elisabeth jump up in bed, her eyes looking straight into the small hallway, where Toto appeared with a small bag in his hands and looking a little out of breath.

— Are you okay?

— Yes — he replied, turning the bag upside down, three boxes falling onto the king-size bed.

— You're breathless — she observed.

— I ran to the pharmacy — Toto said, sitting on the bed..

— Why?

— I didn't want to leave you alone for too long — he replied, smiling — Although you're accompanied, so...

— We still don't know if I'm accompanied, Toto.

— Then let's find out — he said, taking one of the boxes — I got three tests, from three different brands, so we wouldn't have any doubts.

After reading the instructions for the three tests, Elisabeth took the bottle and drank some more water, while Toto opened the packages and prepared everything in the sink in the suite's bathroom. She was taking the last sip when he appeared in the room again, sitting down in front of her.

— It's all on top of the sink, it's very simple, you just need to...

— Pee on a stick, right? — she completed.

Toto blinked.

— No, Liesl, it's not like that.

— Well, it’s like that in the movies.

— The movies are wrong, Liesl. You need to collect the sample in the cup and then place the test strip inside the sample for fifteen seconds. Then you take it out and cover it. So, you let me know when you're done so I can start the timer.

Elisabeth blinked.

— You know a lot about pregnancy tests.

— I have two children, remember? — he smiled.

She felt her cheeks heat up. It was almost automatic for her to assume that they were at the same stage in life, discovering life as a couple and, possibly, parenthood. However, Toto was 16 years older than Elisabeth, had already been married and had two children. It was obvious that he had been through all those experiences and knew what it was like, unlike her.

The thought of it, in a way, scared her even more.

— Yes, I do — she replied, giving an embarrassed smile.

Taking her hand affectionately, Toto's thumb stroked her skin.

— So, now that you know that I have knowledge to talk about this, you will go to the bathroom and do the tests, okay?

Elisabeth simply nodded, which made him smile and place a kiss on her knuckles. Getting up from the bed, she walked slowly to the bathroom, entering the cubicle silently and closing the door. Leaning her head against the wood, Elisabeth took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

The prospect of being pregnant was both frightening and enchanting. She had spent so many hours imagining what it would be like to have a child that she hadn't stopped to think about what the entire pregnancy process would be like. She hadn't thought about what the changes in her body would be like, the action of hormones on her mood, her family's reaction to the news, the birth... And now everything seemed more real than ever, three tests away from her.

“Let's do this, Elisabeth”, she thought to herself, turning to the sink and picking up the cup that was on the cream-colored marble.

After a few long minutes of trying to relax, a prospective father-to-be knocking twice on the door asking if she was okay, and a sample taken, Elisabeth opened the bathroom door with a sigh.

— Done — she said softly, walking to the bed.

— Did you leave the strips on for 15 seconds?

— Yes, Toto — Elisabeth replied, settling down on the mattress.

— Great, now we just wait five minutes — he said, touching his phone and activating the timer — And we'll find out if you're eating for two or if it's just a virus.

Seeing the seconds ticking slowly on the screen, she pursed her lips.

— Has this timer always been this slow?

— When you're anxious, any short wait seems like an eternity. But it's okay — Toto said, taking her right hand — Everything will be fine, Liesl.

— What do you mean by fine? — Elisabeth asked, her eyes fixed on his fingers, which were playing with her engagement ring, the diamond sparkling in the light that came through the window.

— I mean we will see two lines in each of those tests.

— Do you want the result to be positive?

— Don’t you?

Elisabeth sighed.

— It's not that I don't want the result to be positive. In fact, nothing would make me happier than knowing that I will be the mother of your child. But at the same time, we didn't plan it, we didn't think about it, we didn't even get married!

— Does the order matter that much, Liesl?

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. Elisabeth had no idea where to begin to explain that whirlwind of feelings that were growing inside her chest.

— You know I hate it when things don't go as planned, right? — Elisabeth asked, earning a positive nod from Toto — We live in a rush, in such a hustle and bustle that I feel like I need to have control over something, at least a little. And the idea of doing everything calmly, getting engaged, getting married and then having a child was something that gave me this feeling of control and now…

— You're scared, aren't you?

She took a few seconds to reflect on that question. At the same time that Elisabeth knew that she was capable of doing anything, she felt faced with a challenge much greater than any she ever had. It wasn't a complicated negotiation or a championship fight that was going from bad to worse, but a baby. And there was no worse time for it to decide to show up.

— I understand you, Liesl, I really do. You know I also like to have control over things and it bothers me when I don't. But, I think having children is the absolute way to give up control, you know?

— Absolute?

— Yes, absolute. As much as we have an idea of how we want our children to grow up and be, for them to have the best upbringing, the best structure, the best support, this doesn't always happen. And there's not much you can do, Liesl.

— No?

— No. Because children don't come with manuals. You are not born knowing how to be a father or mother, you need to learn every day, every hour, every minute about that new role. And every moment with them is a learning experience and, in a way, a rediscovery.

Elisabeth remained silent, digesting Toto's words, who continued.

— I learned a lot about myself from Benedict and Rosa. I learned about courage, sacrifice and, above all, love. And it is this feeling that has to guide us at every step on this journey, the love we feel for them.

— What if I can't love him? — Elisabeth asked in a low voice, without looking up at him.

— Him? You mean our child?

— Yeah — she said, observing the contrast of his skin against hers.

However, instead of a long explanation or a simple answer, Elisabeth heard Toto chuckle. The sound made her look up at him, meeting his brown eyes framed by the little wrinkles that only appeared when he truly smiled.

— Elisabeth, do you love me? — he returned the question.

— Yes — she replied, without hesitation — Very much.

— So, think that you are possibly carrying in your belly a little person that has 50% of me in its composition. At least half of it you already love very much, according to yourself.

Elisabeth smiled a little.

— And you?

— What about me?

— Do you already love him? — she asked.

Toto brought one of his hands to her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

— Liesl, I've loved him since the first time I imagined him running through our backyard in Oxford. I've loved him ever since I thought about what it would be like to hold him for the first time and see his blue eyes, just like yours. I've loved him since the day I imagined him together with Ben and Rosi, completing our family, in the same way you completed me.

Elisabeth smiled, leaning her head against Toto's palm, silent. There wasn't much to say after everything he had said. In the end, all that remained was the certainty that she had chosen the right man for her life. The man who would be by her side whenever uncertainty or fear flooded her chest.

The perfect man to be the father of her child.

— Toto…

— Yes, Liesl?

— Have you noticed that whenever we talk about our child, we refer to it as a boy?

Toto laughed.

— Now that you say it…

— Any reason?

— For that?

— Yeah.

— No, none. Although, with the conditions your father set…

He didn't have time to complete the sentence before a sound interrupted him.

Five minutes had passed.

The result was available.

The two looked at each other, as if waiting for the other to do something.

Then, Toto got up from the bed and went to the bathroom. The silence inside the room was so great that Elisabeth could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, the accelerated rhythm.

— Liesl — he finally said, still inside the bathroom, his voice a little muffled.

— Yes?

— Do you want good news or bad news?

— What do you mean by that?

— Just answer me — Toto replied, his voice a little strange.

— The bad one.

— We're going to have to look for a new apartment.

— Why?

He appeared at the bathroom door again, with the three tests in hand.

He was smiling widely, his cheeks stained by the tears that had already run down.

— Because we're going to have a baby, Liesl. We're going to be parents.

[broken-glowsticks]

What Once Was Mine

Chapter 12 - Missing you

Genre: Childhood friends, Eventual Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love corner/love triangle, love rivals, Series.

Not all chapters will be proofread!!

Warnings: 18+, mdni, mentions of sex and alcohol consumption, additional warnings will be added to individual chapters as needed.

Previous • Main • Next

It took hours before you fell into a fitful sleep only for the overly eager sun to wake you up way too soon for your liking. You had debated over calling in sick from work, but what would be the point? Felix had classes, and you knew damn well how busy Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were. You even, for a fleeting moment, thought about reaching out to Hyunjin but had ultimately decided against it. You truly couldn't bring yourself to bother anyone it seemed and thus dragged yourself from bed, resigning to your pitiful fate and jumping into a tolerably cold shower before dressing for what you knew was going to be a shitty day. And shitty it was. 

The moment you started your lunch break, you had escaped to your car, needing desperately to be out of that brick and mortar prison. It was only when you had managed to relax a bit that you pulled out your phone and noticed Changbin had sent you a few texts throughout the morning. 

❤️✨️My Dwaekki🐇🐽: Good morning, my pretty princess. I'm so sorry for not texting you until now. 

❤️✨️My Dwaekki🐇🐽: I wished you were next to me when I woke up. I miss you, Bunny. I hate not getting to see you.

❤️✨️My Dwaekki🐇🐽: I guess you're at work. Otherwise, you would have answered me? I asked Han, but he didn't know for sure. I guess neither of us has really had the time to see you, huh? I'm really sorry about that, Bunny.

❤️✨️My Dwaekki🐇🐽: Let me know the next time you're free. Let's go on a date. I left my princess alone when I said I'd spoil her, I swear I'll make it up. Any day, just say when.

You stared intently at his string of messages, trying not to let yourself get overly emotional. You had been so lonely these past few days, the only respite being those few genuinely platonic moments between you and Hyunjin right up until the almost-kiss and the day before with Felix. You didn't want to bother your swamped boyfriend with your melancholy feelings, doing your best to put on a smile for him, but yet here he was saying how he has been missing you too. Maybe he's been missing you just as much as you've been missing him, if not more. 

You stopped yourself before you made yourself any more sad and quickly pulled up your work schedule. Fuck it. It was Tuesday today, so you had decided you would ride out today and tomorrow and call in sick for the rest of the week. You missed your boyfriend, and he missed you, so you were going to see him - whatever it took. 

○●☆♡☆●○

My girl: Thursday to Sunday, I'm all yours. I'll take whatever you can give. I miss you, Binnie 💋

Changbin sat in his studio chair, eyes fixed on your text. It was the only reply you had sent, and yet it held so much weight. 

Thursday to Sunday. Four days, four full days that he knew you had set aside just for him. He knew your work hours well enough to know you must have made some kind of arrangements to get Thursday and Friday off, and you never worked weekends. 

Fuck, Changbin meant it when he told you to just say the word and he'd be there. He would do whatever it took to see you again, but the fact that you set aside four whole days just to “take whatever he can give” simultaneously almost broke his heart and made him fall even deeper into his still massive crush on you. 

“Has Y/N replied to you yet?” Jisung asked from his desk chair, his eyes still trained on the computer in front of him.

“Yeah, she did.”

“And…?” Chan asked from the couch on the other side of the small room, his gaze lifting from the screen of his laptop.

“How do you guys feel about me inviting her to the studio on Thursday?” 

“I'm amazed you didn't think of it before,” Han said with a slight chuckle.

“Of course she can come, just don't make out right in front of us,” Chan teased with a sincere smile, causing Changbin to laugh.

“No promises, boss.”

○●☆♡☆●○

You could feel your heart pounding as you waited in the lobby of a large building,  twiddling with the straps of your large bag. 3racha may own the studio space, but it still resided on only one floor of a massive mixed-use building. A building where you couldn't just freely enter without clearance. Which led to you waiting nervously in the lobby as the receptionist for the entire building phoned for one of the boys, needing confirmation that you were indeed an expected guest before she could give you a day pass. 

“Miss Y/N? I have confirmation, I just need your signature to validate your day pass.” 

“Yes, of course,” you replied, swiftly making your way to the front desk and scrawlling your signature onto the provided document before the receptionist led you behind her desk and up against a blue square so a photo could be taken and added to your day pass. You didn't look unkempt, but you were definitely feeling underdressed in your light sweater and shorts when you walked into the building's main lobby, and that feeling only doubled once your picture was taken. 

“Here you are, ma'am, the office you're looking for will be on floor three. Have a nice day.” 

With a small nod to the receptionist, you made your way to the closest elevator. You could feel yourself starting to get jittery with excitement as the elevator took you to the third floor. You didn't think you would get to see Changbin again so soon, not only that you were also going to see Jisung and Chan, too. You felt bad Felix couldn't join. It had been way too long since all of you were able to spend time together. 

The elevator stopped with a ding, causing you to jolt slightly. Quickly, you scrambled out of the metal box, expecting to instantly come across the boys' studio. Unfortunately for you, their studio wasn't the only room on this floor, and, for some god forsaken reason, none of the doors were marked with any kind of name plate. Who the hell designed this? Checking your phone, you noticed you had spotty cell signal at best and absolutely nothing at worst. Great, how were you supposed to find these guys? Go from door to door? The idea did not appeal to you.

You paced the hallway a few times before gently pressing your ear to each of the doors in hopes of hearing something - anything. Music, a familiar voice, hell even an unmistakably unfamiliar voice to help whittle down your choices and increase your chances of knocking on the right door. 

You groaned, now standing on the other end of the hall, right next to the elevator where you initially started, arms crossed and foot impatiently tapping on the carpeted floor. You really didn't want to do this, but your pride was wearing thin the longer you floundered around the building corridor. Bouncing your gaze about for a moment you finally chose a door to knock on, however as soon as you took a step towards your chosen door, the one on the complete opposite side of the hall opened and out came Changbin. 

“Bunny, there you are!” 

“Oh my god, Binnie!” You cried out, relieved you didn't have to sacrifice your dignity and excited to finally get to lay eyes on your boyfriend who you haven't gotten to see in some time. 

Before you knew it, you had run, full force, towards your boyfriend's growing smile, propelling yourself into his open arms. Changbins’ hold on you was tight as he spun you around, taking in your scent and your giggles as he set you down but didn't let you go. God had he missed you. Now that you were here, Changbin didn't want to go back into the studio. He just wanted to take you home and bury himself into his blankets with you pressed against him. He guessed just getting to hold you as tightly as he could in this quiet hallway would have to do.

“What took you so long? I was getting worried,” Changbin murmured into your hair.

“There are no name plates on these stupid doors,” you complained, pulling away to pout up at him. 

“Ah, you're right. I'm sorry, baby, I should have told you. It slipped my mind,” Changbin said gently, taking your face in one of his hands and stroking your jutted lip with his thumb. 

“You owe me a better apology than that, I almost went knocking from door to door to look for you,” you said, taking in Changbins’ messy curly hair, his round and wire framed glasses, and his comfy, sleeveless black shirt. He looked so adorable and completely irresistible. 

“Oh, really?” He chuckled in response, dipping down to bump his nose against yours, “I hope this is enough then, my princess.” Changbins lips were soft, and kissing him again felt like finally getting to breathe again. You didn't care that you were in an open hallway and that anybody could walk out at any moment and see you. Being without Changbin felt agonizing, and you were going to savor every second you could get. 

“Am I forgiven yet?” He asked against your lips and gave a breathy laugh that made your knees go weak when you refused him.

“More,” you demanded, arms wrapped around his neck and your fingers toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“As you wish,” Changbin replied with a silly grin, a hand sliding down to rest on your ass. “Chan said I'm not allowed to make out with you in front of him, so I guess I'm just going to have to do it now before we go in. We might be out here a while.”

“They can wait. Right now, you're mine.” 

“Only yours,” Changbin replied before catching your lips in another kiss. 

○●☆♡☆●○

“Oh there you two are, I thought we were going to have to send out Search and Rescue to find you two,” Han quipped the moment you and Changbin walked into the studio. “They'd probably find you two smashing or something,” he added under his breath as he swiveled back to his computer. 

“And I thought it would be nice if I brought you guys snacks, but I guess my stupid roommate isn't gonna get any now after that last quip that I totally heard.” 

“Wait, no, wait, I take that back. I want snacks,” Jisung said hastily, whirling around and reaching for your bag, which he presumed had the aforementioned snacks. 

“Say sorry first, you twerp!” You said, yanking the bag away from Jisungs hands. 

“NO!” Hisung cried, and before you knew it, he had lunged on you from his seat, causing you to falter, lose balance, and land on a black couch you didn't notice behind you. All you could register was the cackling laughter of Chan and Changbin as Jisung wrestled and tickled you for your bag of snacks. You weren't just taking it, though, twisting and jerking your body every which way you could to keep Jisung from getting your bag. 

“Are either of you going to help?!” You shouted but were only met with more laughter. 

The two of you struggled for a few more minutes before Changbin decided to finally give you some aid. Wrapping his arms around Jisung, who had effectively crawled on top of your hunched figure, Changbin lifted his friends in the air and carried him back to his chair. 

“Alright, Han, leave my girlfriend alone.” 

“Hey, no fair, you were my friend first.”

“Boyfriend trumps friend when that friend is about to crush everyone's snacks,” Changbin said with a grin. Meanwhile, behind him, you had unfurled to stick your tongue out at Jisung, causing him to frown. 

“Fine, Traitor. I gotta get back to this beat anyway,” Jisung pouted, sliding a pair of headphones over his ears. 

“Aish, he's not gonna forgive me for taking your side,” Changbin said lightheartedly, settling next to you and slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Can I convince you to forgive him and give him some snacks?” 

You mulled the idea over for a moment before nodding, handing the bag to Changbin. 

“You give it to him,” you whispered, “pretend you swiped them from me. He loves stealing my food.”

“Okay,” he whispered back with a chuckle, pressing a quick kiss to your temple as he took the bag and rummaged through it to pick out one he thought Han would like the most. 

He waited a bit, waiting until you went and talked to Chan to sell the charade before he threw a snack at Hans head. Han swiveled his chair around, initially ready to fight whoever threw something at his head, only for his mouth to seal itself tightly and his eyes to widen when he saw Changbin with the bag. 

“Look down,” Changbin mouthed, pointing at the candy that lay on the floor behind Han and flashing a cute pose. 

Han smiled, his eyes darting to you before quickly snatching up the candy and mouthing a thank you to his friend. Just like that, all was forgiven between the two, and you tried your best not to let on that you and Chan were subtly watching by giggling. 

The day passed surprisingly quickly, filled with silly squabbles that were remedied as soon as they were sparked, jokes and razzing, Changbin acting cute, snacks being eaten, bouts of quiet as the boys busied themselves with work only for a stray groan to break the silence and start up short conversations again. It felt like a breath of fresh air, all of you being together again. The only thing missing was Felix. Maybe he could come over later after his classes? It doesn't seem like he would be in the way. After all, it's not as if any clients have come in all day. Why was that?

“We like to set aside days to work on personal projects or just hammer out details for ongoing projects with clients,” Chan explained, not once looking up from his laptop. "Also, some of our clients hired us to actually write the music as well as produce it, so that takes a lot of time as well.”

“Wow, no wonder you guys have been so busy. With all of that, you really have a lot on your plate.”

“Uhg, tell me about it,” Jisung groaned, slipping off his headphones and sliding down his seat. “I miss having free time.”

“I miss having you guys around,” you admit, tucking your legs into the oversized jacket Changbin lent you earlier 

Another silence settled between the four of you, and you regretted opening your mouth. However, the boys all felt sympathetically. They missed the group hanging out. It didn't feel right for three of the five of you to be constantly working, leaving the other two in the dust. While this uptick in business is great for 3racha's career, it’s not so great for their personal lives. 

The silence was abruptly broken by someone’s stomach growling. 

“I guess snacks aren't a good replacement for a good meal,” you chuckled, grabbing your bag and pulling out your wallet. “I'll go get us some food.” 

“Changbin, go with her,” Jisung said as soon as you had grabbed your wallet, surprising you both. 

“Don't you need him?”

“Oh god, don't start, just get out of here. I need a break from you two eye fucking each other from across the room,” Jisung said with feign annoyance, but when his eyes met Changbins’, Jisung gave him a wink and a thumbs up. Even after the official start of you two dating, Han was still by his friends side doing everything he could for you two. 

“Don't have to tell me twice,” Changbin grinned, snagging his wallet and yanking on the shoes he discarded about an hour or two after you arrived. 

“Everyone fine with pizza?” You asked, taking Changbins hand into yours and making your way to the door. 

“Bring Korean corn dogs too!” Chan called out before the door closed. You chuckled. Normally, you would complain about having to drive to two different places for food, but right now, that meant more alone time with your Binnie, and you were not going to say no to that. 

“You want me to put in the order for everything now?” Changbin asked as the elevator returned you to the lobby. You shook your head. 

“Let's wait until we get to the pizza place, I want as much time with you as possible,” 

Changbin simply replied with a giggle and a press of his lips to yours. You had a feeling you were going to get a lot of kisses before you made it back to the studio and, boy, how right you were. At every opportunity Changbin had himself wrapped around you, his lips trailing over every available glimpse of your skin, his hands running over everywhere else. The only time he wasn't all over you was when he stole your keys and drove you to his favorite pizza place, which, surprisingly, wasn't that far from the studio. 

Once he had paid for parking, the two of you made your way inside, and Changbin hugged you from behind, his arms wrapping comfortably around your middle as you decided on what pizza to get for everyone 

“Maybe a meat lovers’?” He suggested, placing his chin on your shoulder and swaying your bodies side to side, causing you to giggle.

“What about a Supreme? I think that has a little bit of something for everyone.” 

“Sure, just no olives,” Changbin murmured in reply, his nose nuzzling into your neck, tickling the skin. 

“Stop,” you giggled, trying to shrug away.

“No,” you promptly refused, walking the two of you up to the counter to order. Changbin only toned down the affection long enough for you to order once someone came to take your order. The second the worker made their way back to begin your order, Changbin immediately started up his assault on your skin, kissing and nipping at the skin. It tickled, but also you could feel your body heat rising in temperature, and you worried that at any moment someone would come out and see. 

“Binnie, stop, someone's gonna see.”

“Nobody's gonna see. This place only ever has a few workers. They won't come out until the pizza's done,” he said in attempts to reassure you, but you still weren't satisfied. “Fine,” he grumbled, his lips pressed right behind your ear. 

You assumed he was relenting that he was going to at least wait until the two of you were alone again. That's not what he was doing. Instead, he tightened his grip around your middle and lifted you to a row of seats that were lined up against a nearby wall. You couldn’t help but notice they were placed right next to a section of the wall that jutted out, creating an alcove where even if a worker were to walk out, they wouldn't be able to see anything but your legs from their vantage point. What a sneaky mother fucker your boyfriend was, especially considering that when he set you down he placed you directly next to the protruding section of the wall. 

“Think you're being sneaky?” You asked in a coy tone, your lip catching between your teeth as Changbin leaned forward, putting his hand on the protruding wall right next to your head. 

“I like to think I can be pretty sneaky when I want to be,” he teased back, his hooded eyes taking in the building color in your cheeks. “Still think someone's gonna see?” 

You said nothing, all your focus being pulled towards your boyfriend. 

Changbin chuckled, his free hand coming up to draw over your head the hood of his jacket that you were still wearing. You looked so cute in it. He might have to let you have it.

“What about now?” He breathed, slowly leaning in but not closing the gap. You didn't realize when your breathing had sped up, but you did realize the moment you suddenly didn't care if anyone saw. All you cared about was feeling Changbins' lips on yours.

Closing your eyes, you leaned in, slotting your lips over his. Changbin sighed into the kiss, he had been stealing kissing you since you had left the studio, but getting to sit down and properly take in the softness of your plush lips, the lingering sweetness of candy on your breath, the warmth of your skin. If only you weren't in public, he would have you in his arms, on his lap, his hands under your shirt. 

You seemed to have read his mind and liked the latter idea because slyly you hand rooted your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck, fisting his raven locks before one hand slid down the back of his neck and slipped under the fabric of his shirt. You were just as lost in him as he was with you. With one hand releasing your hood to caress your cheek, the other hand against the wall by your head, his body beginning to lean over her, all at once you were surrounded in everything that was Changbin. 

You were so lost that you didn't notice the bell of the front door ring as someone walked in. 

○●☆♡☆●○

Hyunjin sighed in relief as he carded a hand through his newly cropped hair. It had been quite a while since he allowed himself a change in his cut and color. He smiled at himself as he took in his reflection in a nearby window, his hair now short and a dark shade of burgundy. He was hesitant over the short length but was glad he went for it overall. It allowed a proper view of his new brow piercing he had gotten only a couple of days prior. Something about the new look made him feel like he matched the art he had been creating. 

With a rumbling tummy, Hyunjin had just one more stop to hit up before going home. Some time during his hair appointment, he had felt the sensation of hunger settling in and had placed an order for pizza from this spot he knew was nestled nearby. 

Opening the door, Hyunjin leisurely strolled in, initially missing the couple making out in the chairs nearby as he waved down a worker and told them he had ordered ahead. However, the second he noticed them, he very much wished he hadn't. 

‘Gross… Just because the staff can't see you doesn't mean I can't,’ he thought but soon had to check himself, he knew he would be doing the exact same thing with you were he in their place. 

The thought of you pulled Hyunjins mood down a bit. Particularly the thought of him kissing you. He had been doing everything in his power to not think of you in that way, especially since the almost-kiss that happened at his place only four days ago. But something about that night had brought every intimate and stolen moment to the forefront of his mind, and, suddenly, he was seeing you everywhere. 

Even now, Hyunjin was seeing you in the girl being kissed, hiding in what he presumed to be her boyfriend's hoodie. It was stupid, but Hyunjin wished for a moment that the girl really was you and that he was in the place of the curly haired guy. He wanted to be able to hide away with you one more time, to steal just a few more kisses and to hear more of your shy giggles. If only that guy could be him.

Damn. Was he really getting jealous of strangers right now? Wow, was he getting pathetic. It really didn't help that the girl's legs looked just like yours. 

The girl giggled again, and Hyunjin had to physically turn away. Now she was sounding like you, too. Where the hell was his pizza?

Before he could wave down a worker again, Hyunjins eyes darted over to the couple again entirely on their own. Why, he didn't know, all he knew was that when his eyes landed on the “random” couple, his heart cracked. It was you. You and the stupid boyfriend. Hyunjin wondered if you had even noticed that your hood had slipped off your head while you were… having fun. God of all the places, of all the pizza joints, why were you here? 

“Y/N?” Hyunjins wavering voice called out to you before he could stop himself, causing you to jolt away from Changbin in surprise.

You didn’t have to look. You knew it was Hyunjin. You knew his voice, having memorized every intonation of it over the years. You couldn't even look at him if you had wanted to. You were too embarrassed. Instead, you squirreled your face away into the crook of Changbins’ neck for protection.

“H-hi Hyunjin,” you squeaked out from your hiding spot. You felt silly hiding from Hyunjin. It's not as if you haven't done worse with him in public places. But at the same time, you also felt like jumping into the pizza oven to be burnt to a crisp. That way, you could avoid the inevitable awkward conversation that was about to come. What was he doing here? Why did he have to catch you kissing Changbin like this? Why did it matter to you so much if you and Hyunjin were just friends now?

“Hwang,” Changbin cut in with a nod of his head, partially in acknowledgment, partially to pull Hyunjins' attention from you. 

“Ah, yeah. Hi,” Hyunjin replied stiffly, returning Changbins nod with a curt one of his own but unable to meet the boyfriends eyes. He actually couldn't even bring himself to look at the guy at all. 

An awkward silence settled between the three of you, one only broken by a worker pulling Hyunjins attention. It was when you heard Hyunjin speaking to the restaurant worker about how long his food took and being given something extra as compensation that you were able to calm yourself enough to pull your face from Changbins’ neck. 

“Still flustered, bunny?” Changbin chuckled, resting back into his chair and pulling you against him with his strong arm. You had only managed to nod as you leaned against Changbins’ strong body, attempting to relax against him as your eyes finally landed on Hyunjin who was only a few feet away from you but felt so much further.

“You changed your hair,” you timidly spoke when Hyunjin finally had his food in hand, “when did that happen?” 

Hyunjin paused to look at you and your beet red face, and you couldn't help but notice the red rim to his glassy eyes. Maybe the pain was why he couldn't bring himself to answer you right away. How was he supposed to just talk to you with his heart still aching from watching you kiss someone else? Especially when you looked so comfortable snuggled against The Boyfriends’ side, wearing his hoodie? However, the more he stared at you with that unmistakably hurt gaze, the more unsettled you felt.

“Yo-you also pierced your eyebrow. It looks good on you,” you attempted again, a strained smile pulling at your features. Hyunjins face remained stoic as he continued to stare at you, the air growing stale between you. 

This time, it was the sound of Changbin clearing his throat that broke the silence, effectively pulling Hyunjin from his daze. Hyunjin blinked a few moments as if he were refocusing on what was in front of him before turning his gaze away, a hand coming up to scratch at his scalp.

“I just came from the salon, actually. The piercing was the day before yesterday. I was waiting until this weekend to show you. I was hoping I could steal some time to surprise you,” Hyunjin admitted in a hurry, as if trying to make up for the silence he instigated moments earlier. 

“Oh, uhm, I'm sorry the surprise got ruined,” you said a little lamely, reaching for Changbins hand as discreetly as possible and squeezing it tightly. Unfortunately, Hyunjin caught this action out of his peripheral vision.

“It's ok, not your fault. Uhm, I gotta go. I don't want my food to get cold,” he said curtly, dashing from the lobby before you could even say goodbye. 

“Wait, Hyunjin!” You cried, standing to chase after him but being stopped by the call of your name. The pizza was done, and Hyunjin was long gone. 

“Are you okay, Bunny?” Changbin asked as he came up beside you, food in one hand, the other resting comfortingly on your back. You tore your eyes from the door Hyunjin just left through to look at your boyfriend, unsure of how to respond to him.

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

So I tried taking a page out of Miyazaki and writing the more quiet moments, but that's hard to balance! They can easily come off as boring, especially in a strictly written medium. Personally, I think it's easier in a visual medium where you can see the characters being in the moment. I hope I could somewhat convey the concept of "ma" at least a little in this chapter.

Now, onto the story, Solars, come and get yo juice! Lmao, also I'm worried I made Hyunjin come off as a little bit of a twerp when that's not what intended. If that's the case, I'll roll with it, but idk, what do you guys think?

Taglist: @groovygroovyhyunjin @hhwangsmoon @luvyblossom @doggezz@kayleefriedchicken @hyunjinhoexxx @zadkielr @bincxtesworld

[namusthetic]

The Artist and The Writer

The Tiny Love Stories Series

Their love blossomed in the gentle quietness. In moments when they felt overwhelmed by the rush of sensations or dived too deep in their thoughts, forgetting to resurface for a breath, they sought each other's eyes, and the noise finally ebbed away.

They had grown weary of giving away pieces of themselves with each lover, so they became each other's muse.

Link to the full playlist here <3

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

The Artist

"Why can't you see that?"

The Artist observed. Patterns and colors spoke clearly to them, like words never could. Their childlike curiosity had been so refreshing to the Writer—a breath of fresh air after all the molding and the dust that had settled during long hours of contemplation, shattering on the fractals of their mind. The Artist made them rediscover the beauty of simple pleasures, the magic of seeing things as they are. The Writer knew that, no matter how much they tried, no word could ever fully capture the Artist's beauty.

Playlist:

As It Was by Harry Styles

Someone New by Hozier

Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows

Hey Lover! By Wabie

Me Gustas Tu by Manu Chao

Black Friday by Tom Odell

As The World Falls Down by David Bowie

The Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx

Let The Light In by Lana del Rey ft. Father John Misty

The Writer

"You just don't understand."

The Writer's depth had ignited the Artist's fascination—a tranquil, opaque mirror nestled in a clearing deep within deep woods of the most vivid shade of green. Beneath its surface, wisps of light, flashes of distant storms boiled with fury. Rarely noticed by others, the Writer observed every detail keenly, a nostalgic aura of bittersweet melancholy surrounded them. The Artist spent hours sketching, attempting to capture the comforting warmth of the wisdom in their eyes.

Playlist:

Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery

Writer In The Dark by Lorde

Talk by Hozier

Wicked Game by Chris Isaac

Heart to Heart by Mac DeMarco

Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens

Those Eyes by New West

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

We Are The People by Empire of the Sun

----------- 🎨🖋️

(there's a surprise below 🤫)

------- Tiny Side Story ------

The soft gold light of sunrise cast a warm patina across the surfaces; it was barely 5:42 in the morning. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and jam wafted through the small apartment. In the direction of the small kitchenette, the clinking of plates and cutlery could be heard.

"Did you stay up all night writing?" The writer turned to find the artist leaning on the doorframe, a smirk playing on their lips.

"I couldn't bring myself to stop; had to finish that chapter. I was about to go to sleep, just wanted to prepare breakfast for you first. I know you like to wake up early to paint, but you awoke before I could bring it to you."

"Let's have breakfast together then; you can go and sleep after."

"Is there any way I can convince you to come back to bed and cuddle for a bit before you disappear into your studio?" The writer raised their brows in question, their attention still on the slice of bread in their hands. The artist sniffed and turned their head, as if pondering: "I have a very strict schedule; I'll see if I can spare a moment for you."

"Much obliged," they exchanged smirks, a spark of affection evident in their eyes. The artist settled into a chair by the window, watching attentively.

"Did you put the jam on the whole slice?"

"Yep."

"On the borders too?"

"Yep."

[martsonmars]

Happy Sunday, friends! And happy Easter/bunny day/chocolate day/egg hunt day to those who celebrate <3

Thank you to everyone who keeps tagging me even though I keep going MIA, and thanks @hushed-chorus and @stitchyqueer for the tag today! I'm still struggling with writing, but this past week I started two new WIPs and had some ideas I'm really excited about, so I'm feeling a bit hopeful. Sharing something from both my new WIPs (so a thousand sentences and not 6) because I miss validation hahaha.

1. Story I started writing on Friday to process my feelings about something that happened that day. I don't know when I'll continue it because I need to be in the right headspace. This is the end of it, because it's the happiest part and that's what I needed to write 😂

“Right, sorry, I'll leave you to your...” He waves at the storage unit, and Basil can't blame him for the confusion. What do you call something like this? The physical trace of three generations of nostalgia and silences and grief piling up on the shoulders of one. “I'll leave you be.”

But no, this is wrong.

This isn't what Basil meant.

He cannot stay here alone with the ghosts of his past.

“Are you going home?” he asks Simon.

“Dunno,” Simon shrugs. His entire body goes along with it. It makes Basil hope. “Am I?”

That's an opening. An invitation. The chance for Basil to grasp the moment and let himself be.

“I need to eat so much cake that my stomach will hate me for a month,” he says, and Simon's entire face lights up like a kid's on Christmas morning.

“I know just the place.”

Second WIP and tags under the cut!

2. This one was supposed to be fun and flirty but for now it's mostly melancholy feelings. Sharing two snippets because I can't pick one hahaha.

Nine days since he showed up at their monthly showdown in an apron, his mask barely covering a flushed face and a halo of windswept curls making him look like a warrior angel come to bring an end to all sinners.

“Being a hero doesn't pay the bills,” he shrugged, yanking off the apron and throwing it off the roof. (His bicep flexed even more beautifully when it wasn't covered in red spandex.) “And not all of us have the luxury of daddy's money.”

‘Not all of us’ indeed, Baz thought, but he couldn't let the way those words were affecting him show. He couldn't stop embodying the image of the perfect villain he'd worked so hard on, or what would be left?

//

This shouldn't surprise Baz either. It doesn't.

Of course this is the kind of place that would make him feel at home, because isn't it what heroes do?

The real heroes, not the ones hiding in comic stripes and showy clothes and sensational acts that break more than they fix. Not the untouchable ones.

But the heroes who know that the only way to change the world in a way that matters is to hold out a hand when people fall even though you can't fix the bumps in the road that made them falter.

To help them stay afloat and swim to shore even though you can't relieve them from the weights that are sinking them down.

I hope I can finish this one soon!

@wellbelesbian @urban-sith @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @johnwgrey @fatalfangirl @prettylightsbigcity @whatevertheweather @confused-bi-queer @moodandmist @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @dragoneggos @captain-aralias @takitalks @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @gekkoinapeartree @bazzybelle @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @basiltonbutliketheherb @ivelovedhimthroughworse @nightimedreamersworld @artsyunderstudy @ionlydrinkhotwater @yellobb @orange-peony @ic3-que3n @whogaveyoupermission @yeonjunenby @erzbethluna @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @raenestee @onepintobean @theearlgreymage @technetiumai @jbrrring @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon

[believemetheodore]

Blue Christmas

Ted Lasso x GN!Reader

I had an idea, and I cranked it out in like an hour, and now it's here! He’s with his son for Christmas, and that’s what matters most. But, while the reminder helps to settle self-disdain, it doesn’t keep the loneliness at bay. It doesn’t offer any protection from the things that go bump in the night or offer a hand to hold on the walk to work in the morning.  Warnings: mildly angsty feelings, happy ending, Henry (lmk if you want me to add anything)

The flat is dead silent without him. No shared laughter. No hooting or hollering. No real excitement. It feels selfish to want to complain about the lonely feeling that’s begun to settle in; creeping into every nook and cranny, making itself comfortable in the gaps in the floorboards, chilling the empty side of the bed. He’s back home in Kansas on a well-deserved break, visiting Henry for the holidays. 

How could anyone blame the man for wanting to spend time with his son? What’s a few weeks alone when it means that he’s happy? 

He calls every day, sometimes more than once; his voice-over speakerphone makes it possible to pretend that he’s in the room.  

He left some of his sweaters behind, and the scent of his cologne lingers. It’s tough but curled up in his clothes, it’s possible to masquerade normalcy, falling into a routine. Familiar comfort stays preserved within the apartment walls, but it’s just not home without movie nights or breakfast-for-dinner Fridays. 

He left notes scattered in the most peculiar places; in the pockets of coats, boxes of cereal, and the sock drawer. Each note it’s own kind of bittersweet; a reminder of his favourite way to spend Tuesday afternoons, a thoughtful piece of trivia, a poem he found, a terrible joke, a rambling expression of his love and gratitude. Each scrap of paper is a tug on the heartstrings, bringing on a bright smile and highlighting the void left since his departure. 

Life’s metaphorical glass feels half-full without him. Each morning is more melancholy than the last. Each night is just a tally, crossing off another day on the calendar before he returns. 

His eyes crinkle when he smiles over FaceTime. Beaming, he recounts the day he spent with Henry at a tree farm, hunting down the perfect Christmas tree to put up at mama Lasso’s house. He talks about trying to make a popcorn garland, ultimately unsuccessfully, as he and Henry did more snacking on than stringing the kernels.

It’s easy to get caught up in his joy. His enthusiasm is as infectious as ever, and when Henry joins the call, it’s clear he’s inherited his father’s natural charisma. But secondhand excitement trades places with a dreaded feeling of neediness and unwanted jealousy. A desire to be with him, to go where he goes. Together.

It’s love, but it stings in a way that only feels like guilt. He’s with his son for Christmas, and that’s what matters most. But, while the reminder helps to settle self-disdain, it doesn’t keep the loneliness at bay. It doesn’t offer any protection from the things that go bump in the night or offer a hand to hold on the walk to work in the morning. 

The holiday comes with parties, too much champagne, and opening gifts, wondering if a laptop screen can accurately display such strong and deep feelings of love in a person’s eyes. Yearning.

Henry’s gifts postmarked from London arrive shortly after the presents from his parents and Santa. He’s the sweetest boy, with the biggest heart, and it’s impossible to remain unmoved by his genuine curiosity, wonder, and his shout “thank you, thank you, thank you!” through the speaker. There’s no hesitation when it comes to agreeing that Henry should spend a few weeks in London over the summer. 

The conversation slows, with Henry running off to enjoy his new gifts and gadgets. Ted has lots to share and a lot of time to listen. It’s peaceful, But, hot chocolate doesn’t taste as sweet when there are no kisses to follow. His voice is like honey, warm and soothing when the room feels so cold. For a moment, it’s hard to believe he’s an ocean away. He’s calmer than usual, subdued and subtle. Can the crackle of a slow internet connection explain how he sounds like he’s yearning, too? 

There are no more notes to be found by the time midnight of the New Year rolls in. Marked by the sound of firecrackers and the banging of pots and pans in the street. 

Ted’s flight landed at 11:45, but it’ll be well passed 2 am by the time he makes it home. But even the desire to be awake when Ted finally walks back through the door is no match for deep-seated exhaustion. 

His hand is warm, shaking the shoulder of the one he loves. “Good morning. Happy New Year,” he’s quiet when he speaks. 

Blinking brings him into focus. “I missed you,” the confession slips out with embarrassing ease. “I missed you too”. 

Simple. Easy. Honest. “I have something to show you,” He speaks again, head tilting to gesture towards the door. He stands from his crouched position next to the bed, offering up his hand to hold.

Old floorboard creak and the walk down to the living room is punctuated by two sets of footsteps for the first time in more than a month. The room is bathed in a pale yellow glow of candlelight. The miniature Christmas tree in the corner of the room is strung with tiny string lights, blinking from red to green. A deep breath in smells like sugar and spice, and leads dazzled eyes to the plate of fresh cinnamon rolls on the coffee table. 

It feels like all of the holidays rolled into one, a display of all the devotion he hadn’t been able to paraphrase in his notes or convey through longing looks. Perfect. 

 Hair mused from travel; he’s still nothing but a heartstopper. His voice, his touch, his thoughts, his jokes, he’s just so much better in person. Every bit of him was so well missed. Laughter sounds magical when it’s shared. And kisses taste like icing sugar and cocoa. It’s all like pieces fitting back into place. Tenderness seeps back in, love filling the rooms of the flat once more. This is what home feels like. 

[spogwam]

Connection Intentions

It's exciting to get started on Connection, a social realist short focusing on the need for connection in contemporary Scotland, and how it can be found in the most unlikely of places.

Full synopsis:

Brandon lives in the heart of Leith in squalor. Living from scam to scam, he marks the days ominously on the calendar. Brandon is world-weary and introverted. He hits the streets to find a new victim. Their money is better off in his pocket anyway.

Brandon, sporting a dead man’s suit, outlines his BT scam to his latest victim Robert, an older man living on his own in a humble semi-detached house. Convinced by Brandon’s enthusiasm, Robert invites the young man in for a cup of tea to keep him going on this wintry morning.

“Aye, you ken what? That’d be barry.”

While Robert makes the tea in the adjoined kitchen, Brandon strolls around the old man’s living room, looking at old pictures, ornaments… anything that could make him an extra poppy. He is mesmerised by an antique clock for a moment. Picking up a framed picture, he quickly places it back down as Robert returns with a tray of tea and tunnocks, placing them on the table.

Brandon compliments Robert’s home and sits promptly. Brandon politely inquires about Roberts day, to which he has little to comment.

“Business aside likes, you catch Hibs Hearts on Friday?”

“It’s an absolute joke.”

They find common ground in their shared loneliness and culture.

Brandon walks home, speeding up when someone calls his name from behind him. The man cuts Brandon off, confronting him about his internet.

“BT my fuckin’ arse. Gies my money back.”

Getting his phone out and filming Brandon, he rants in warning to any locals who may have come across him.

Brandon boosts down the road, disappearing out of sight before the man can put away his phone.

“Scamming bastard!”

Brandon jogs up to an abandoned lighthouse, spotting an elf bar on the ground on the way, picking it up and having a draw.

Brandon teeters at the top of the lighthouse, looking out to the sea, puffing away on his reclaimed elf bar.

Brandon arrives at Roberts home again, and is invited straight in.

As Robert intently watches Hibs County on the TV, Brandon comes through with a tray of tea and biscuits, setting it down on the table. Hibs scores and Brandon and Robert are overjoyed.

“You fucking dancer Boyle! Up the Staggies!”

Brandon spots a framed photograph of an older woman smiling and inquires about it.

“Robbo, who’s this lovely lady you’ve got up here, eh?”

“That’s my wife, son. Lost her, what… about ten year ago now.”

“You want to see her?”

“More than anything.”

“I mean likes, the now.”

Brandon and Robert visit her graveside, leaving her a bouquet of roses.

Back at Robert’s home they each nurse a dram by the fireplace. Robert is somewhat melancholy.

“How long have you been working for the BT like?”

“All my life really.”

“You’re only what, twenty though ken?”

“Aye, family business.”

“Aye. Right.”

The crackle of the fire is the only sound for a while as Robert contemplates and Brandon gulps his whisky.

“Make the most of your youth will you laddie? You can do anything you want.”

“Aye.”

Robert’s heartfelt message permeates Brandon as he fixates on the fire.

Entering his flat and locking the door behind him, Brandon hangs up his suit next to several others, still with their labels. Taking the cash from his pocket he puts it in an untouched pile.

Brandon approaches Roberts house, before knocking enthusiastically on the door. He gets no response, and continues knocking. The knocking echoes through the desolate house of stopped clocks, old cups of tea, and an empty armchair.

Brandon’s cash is missing from its usual spot.

Dressed casually, in full Hibs kit, Brandon saunters through the graveyard with a massive bouquet of flowers until he reaches Robert and his wife’s grave. Placing the flowers at the graveside, he looks thoughtful for a moment, before carefully removing his Hibs scarf and wrapping it round the bouquet.

[cosmoglass]

“The unbosoming of an ugly duckling,” will be the title of all this nonsense. - Anne Frank, Friday 14th April 1944 Notes on 'The Diary of a Young Girl'

Saturday 19th February 1944 The giddy ups and downs of Anne Frank -

Tuesday 7th March 1944 Anne Frank’s advice for those in a state of melancholy -

She’s such a little philosopher, breaking down the flaws in her mum’s advice. Bet she annoyed the pants off the others in the Secret Annex simply by thinking critically and trying to discuss things. That’s why they harassed her with criticisms so much.

Thursday 23rd March 1944 Envious old guys tryna sabotage Anne & Peter, Peter blushing and Anne being shamelessly vain -

Monday 27th March 1944 Every resident of the Secret Annex is crowded around the radio listening to Winston Churchill making a speech. '... I am wearing a nightdress, which is much too small, too narrow and too short.' Anne doesn't say how she feels about this situation. She does say that 'Peter's eyes are popping out of his head' but she attributes this to the strain of listening to the radio.

Tuesday 28th March 1944 I like it much better if he explains something to me than when I have to teach him; I would really adore him to be my superior in almost everything.' DO GIRLS WANT YOU TO MANSPLAIN OR NOT?!

He longs to kiss you too, Anne. It's because he's afraid of rejection, embarrassment and shame.

Tuesday 4th April 1944 "Eva's Dream" is my best fairy-tale, and the queer thing about it is that I don't know where it comes from. Eva's Dream features a rose who is full of herself just like the flower in The Little Prince. The Little Prince had already been published but only six months before this diary entry and in America, not Europe, which means Anne couldn’t have read it.

Tuesday 11th April 1944 "Then they will find Anne's diary," added Daddy. "Burn it then," suggested the most terrified member of the party. This, and when the police rattled the cupboard door, were my worst moments. "Not my diary, if my diary goes, I go with it!" But luckily Daddy didn't answer. .......................... If we bear all this suffering and if there are still Jews left, when it is over, then Jews, instead of being doomed, will be held up as an example. Who knows, it might even be our religion from which the world and all peoples learn good, and for that reason and that reason only do we have to suffer now. We can never become just Netherlanders, or just English, or representatives of any country for that matter, we will always remain Jews, but we want to, too. ............................... For the remainder of this epic entry in her diary, Anne takes stock of herself and states some of her dreams for the future after the war is over. An indomitable spirit.

Friday 14th April 1944 "The unbosoming of an ugly duckling," will be the title of all this nonsense.

Sunday morning just before eleven o'clock, 16th April 1944 Poor darling Peter awkwardly fumbling his way towards kissing Anne on the ear. Anne in ecstasy.

Monday 17th April 1944 Dear Kitty, Do you think that Mummy and Daddy would approve of my sitting and kissing a boy on a divan - a boy of seventeen and a half and a girl of just under fifteen? I don't really think they would, but I must rely on myself over this. ............. To exchange our thoughts, that shows confidence, and faith in each other; we would both be sure to profit by it! Yours, Anne.

Wednesday 19th April 1944 It is so soothing and peaceful to feel his arms around me, to know that he is close by and yet to remain silent, it can’t be bad, for this tranquillity is good.

Friday 28th April 1944 First kiss on the lips.

Friday 5th May 1944 Anne shares what she intends to tell Daddy in defence of her right to go upstairs for a snog. Very forthright and long-winded. Poor Daddy. The next day, Pim (Daddy) reads it in a letter that Anne gives him and he's upset for the whole evening. Anne talks about it as if she's being grown up but I think she actually enjoys how much it upsets him, which is very childish. The day after that, Pim tells her how hurt he was by her words and Anne realises how obnoxious she's been and is ashamed of herself.

Wednesday 14th June 1944 Aged just 15, Anne works out the narcissistic defence mechanism that is projection and also understands how being far more self-critical than others has emotional and social consequences for her. She may be over-estimating how much of an inner life Peter has. He's not as brilliant as her and he may just simply not have those profound thoughts and feelings like she has -

Thursday 15th June 1944 It's not imagination on my part when I say that to look up at the sky, the clouds, the moon and the stars makes me calm and patient. It's a better medicine than either valerian or bromine; Mother Nature makes me humble and prepared to face every blow courageously.

Thursday 6th July 1944 I've so often thought how lovely it would be to have someone's complete confidence, but now, now that I'm that far, I realise how difficult it is to think what the other person is thinking and then to find the right answer.

Saturday 15th July 1944 I simply can't build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever-approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquillity will return again. In the meantime, I must uphold my ideals, for perhaps the time will come when I shall be able to carry them out.

Friday 21st July 1944 With her second last diary entry, Anne is over-excited from optimism about the trajectory of the war and very jokey. So tragic.

Tuesday 1st August 1944 I can't keep that up: if I'm watched to that extent, I start by getting snappy, then unhappy, and finally I twist my heart round again, so that the bad is on the outside and the good is on the inside, and keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and what I could be, if... there weren't any other people living in the world.

EPILOGUE As for the two girls, they had been sent to Bergen-Belsen in Germany two months before their mother's death. There Anne showed the same qualities of courage and endurance which had already made her noteworthy at Auschwitz. In February, 1945, both the sisters caught Typhus. One day Margot, who was lying in the bunk immediately above Anne's, seeking to rise, lost her hold and fell on to the floor. In her weakened state the shock killed her. Her sister's death did to Anne what all her previous sufferings had failed to do: it broke her spirit. A few days later, in early March, she died.

................................................

“I want to go on living even after my death! And therefore I am grateful to God for this gift, this possibility of developing myself and of writing, of expressing all that is in me. I can shake off everything if I write; my sorrows disappear; my courage is reborn. But, and that is the great question, will I ever be able to write anything great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer?” - Anne Frank

Anne, you were wonderful, lovely and amazing, a great writer and a great person, and you always will be.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 16 December 1832

8

11 ½

fine rather frostyish morning F46 ½° at 8 ½ am breakfast at 9 5 – came upstairs again in 25 minutes – read from p. 211 to 297 Foresters’ guide – cut my nails – then wrote 2 2/3 pp. to M- went downstairs at 12 and in 50 minutes read the service and sermon 22 Mr. K- and came up again at 1 ½ and finished my letter to  M- 3 pages and ends - should in spite of Mr Kinnersley’s odd answer to them (the L-s) think it right to apply to him for a character of Thomas Beech - but if the same sort of thing as to the L-s, should attend to M-‘s and Granthams recommendation and take the man - no objection to give £20 wages if that is to include washing - give clothes such and so many as I think proper he would have all house work to attend to and be a good deal about me - his being able to read and write, indispensable - ‘If you think the man a sufficiently good servant as to his work, he must still be good tempered, civil and obliging, trustworthy, and sober’ - it would be a great comfort to be well suited - ‘the great inconvenience is, I can bring neither of them here - but this cannot be helped - I must contrive some way or other - and I may not be tried very immediately, for my aunt seems quite as well again as usual, and my father as likely as ever to live 2 or 3 years longer - are you really prophetic in persisting in it, that I shall never live here long together? ‘tis true, we know not what we shall do - ‘Oh blindness to the future kindly given! yet the thought of exile from poor Shibden always makes me melancholy - come what may, I have been happier here than anywhere else; and, unfortunately, I am a person of more constancy than has ever been surmised even by those supposed to know me best - But Providence orders all things wisely - I am perfectly contented, and have more and more gleams of bright assurance that even happiness is within myself, and may, and will be with me here or anywhere - But I am attached to my own people - They are accustomed to my oddities, are kind, and civilized to me, that their faults to others are, in my own case, lightened much - But..... nous verrons - a great deal will, and must depend on that someone, known or unknown, whom I still hope for as the comfort of my evening hour’ - then give the following as the about summary of expense I have been at here - mill £600, Pickersgills £300 - Southholm £80 George Naylor’s £30, James Smiths £25 Draining and wearing £60 to £80 - my walked and etc about home probably about £100 - water to Lower brea to be about £50 and other jobs - with law and agency expense shall not get off for £1300 - nothing could have been well spared but the expense about home - must go and live on bread and water - whether I shall do so, or not, is doubtful - busy just now among my young trees, pruning etc - glad the inscription was so much what she wished - glad to return to our old regularity in writing ‘at least for the time that my being in England will permit’ - had just written the above of today at 2 ¼ - mention the arrival of the Judas trees etc from Leamington on the 5th inst. out at 2 ½ in the fields and in my walk till 5 20 – dressed – read from 297 to 322 Monteaths’ foresters’ guide – dinner at 6 ¼ - sent off my letter to M- ‘Lawton hall, Lawton, Cheshire’ – read the 1st 80pp. vol. 2 (vid. Friday) Emersons’ history of Modern Greece, and then asleep ½ hour till 9 ½ - then went into the other room – skimmed over the courier – came upstairs at 10 ¾ at which hour F46 ½° - very fine day, - not very frosty tho’ feeling colder than of late

[adhdnursegoat]

Chapter 20 of Fairytale has officially been posted!

Warning: mentions of assault.

Here's a snippet!

Desdemona sits on Amy's bed, surrounded by the familiar chaos of her friend's room. Posters of bands and celebrities cover the walls, and clothes are strewn about in a haphazard yet comforting way. The end of April has arrived, and the warm breeze that filters through the open window carries with it the promise of change. It's a Friday night, the week after prom, and the weight of the approaching end of senior year presses down on Desdemona like never before.

She feels as if she has just begun to live. The past two months with Amy have been some of the best times of her life, filled with laughter and shared experiences she never thought she’d have. Movie nights, spontaneous trips to the bay, and endless conversations that stretch into the early hours of the morning have opened her eyes to a world she had long kept at a distance.

Yet, the shadow of prom night still lingers—a night that should have been filled with magic and ended in a harsh reality she never anticipated. The assault had shaken her to her core, but Edward, her unlikely protector, had been there to pull her back from the brink. His presence had been a lifeline, a reminder that she wasn’t alone and that she was stronger than she ever realized.

In Amy's room, with her friend sitting cross-legged on the floor, painting her nails a bright shade of pink, Desdemona feels a mixture of gratitude and longing. High school, which once felt like an unattainable world, is now something she’s deeply a part of. But just as she’s found her place, she’s faced with the reality that it’s all coming to an end.

Desdemona glances around the room, her gaze settling on the twinkle lights strung across the ceiling, casting a soft glow that feels both intimate and infinite. She’s acutely aware of how precious these moments are, the days slipping through her fingers like sand. Regret for the years spent in isolation mingles with the joy of newfound freedom, creating a bittersweet symphony in her heart.

Amy looks up from her nails, flashing a bright smile. “What’s on your mind, Des?” she asks, her voice full of curiosity and warmth.

Desdemona smiles back, feeling the warmth of Amy’s friendship wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. “Just thinking about how much I’ll miss this,” she admits, her voice tinged with both melancholy and hope.

“We’ve still got time.” Amy nods, understanding in her eyes. “Let’s make the most of it.”

Desdemona nods, determination flaring to life within her. She knows that even though her high school years are drawing to a close, her journey is just beginning. The future is unknown, but she’s ready to embrace whatever comes next, knowing she has the strength and support to face it all.

For now, she’s content to be here, in Amy’s room, savoring the feeling of belonging, of being part of something beautiful and fleeting. She knows that these moments will stay with her long after the final bell rings and the world opens up before her, full of endless possibilities.

“Now, come let me paint your nails, silly!” Amy giggles, spinning around to face the bed. Her laughter fills the room, a sound as familiar as the creak of the old floorboards beneath their feet.

Desdemona smiles and lets one of her hands dangle off the bed, not bothering to move. The soft fabric of the comforter envelops her. She watches as Amy huffs in mock exasperation, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Lazy bones,” Amy teases, her voice a blend of affection and amusement.

“What can I say? I’m comfortable where I’m at,” Desdemona replies, her words tinged with a playful defiance.

There’s something liberating about this—about not having to explain herself or put on a facade. Here, in Amy’s room, she doesn’t have to pretend to be anything other than who she is. She doesn’t have to hide behind layers of caution and self-preservation. With Amy, she can simply be.

Follow the link to the full length work: Fairytale