#milo's voice is wonderful

[heartysworld]

Love, Lando, Milo // LN4

Lando Norris x Female Reader

Where Milo turns out to be more supportive than his dad

W. C: 2k

A/N: Milo has become a constant in my Lando fics, but since I don't see anyone complaining, I will keep on including him

MASTERLIST

The night was still. The kind of stillness that should be soothing, but instead, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back scream in protest. It was nearly impossible. Every time you thought you had it, your bladder demanded attention or a new wave of nausea rolled through you.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Lando more than you already had. His breathing was steady and deep beside you, the sound normally a source of comfort. But tonight, it only highlighted how restless you were. You turned again, hoping to find that elusive comfortable spot, but it was no use.

Around 3 AM, you got up for what felt like the fifth time. You shuffled to the bathroom, your swollen feet aching with every step. After relieving yourself, you wandered into the kitchen, craving something to eat. Anything to soothe your grumbling stomach and kicking baby. You grabbed a banana and slowly made your way back to bed, hoping this time you wouldn’t disturb Lando.

But as you slipped back under the covers, Lando stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Again?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with irritation.

“Yes, again,” you snapped back, unable to contain your frustration anymore. For the past few days, Lando's been complaining about your midnight adventures around the house as his sleep schedule struggled as much as you did if not even more. At first, you didn't say anything, apologizing and closing your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. However, as the days passed you felt like your were getting lonelier by the hour and evem more responsible for your fiancé's discontent with the situation in your own home, the sleepless night and constant tossing and turning.

“I’m pregnant, Lando. It’s not like I’m enjoying this.”

“Well, I’m not getting any sleep either,” he retorted. “I need to be in top shape during the season. This lack of sleep isn’t helping. No wonder I haven't been able to get anything done for the past week. It's useless.”

His words felt like a slap in the face. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You felt overwhelmed, emotional, and incredibly vulnerable.

“You think I don’t know that?” You choked out. “You think I want to be up all night? I can’t help it! Im supposed to enjoy my pregnancy and relax as much as possible before our baby arrives! In reality, I'm feeling guilty and responsible for both mine and your inability to rest well! ”

Milo, sensing the tension and seeing your tears, started barking at Lando, tugging on the leg of his sweatpants as if to say, “You upset mom! Fix it!”

“Great, now I’ve upset the dog too,” Lando muttered, but his anger was already dissipating, replaced by guilt. He looked at you, seeing the tears streaming down your face, and his heart broke a little.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You grabbed a blanket and headed to the spare bedroom, which was soon to be the baby's room. You moved as quickly as possible, your belly preventing you from moving with your usual pace. The room was quiet, and the rocking chair near one of the windows looked inviting. You opened the window next to you to let some fresh air inside the room. You settled into the fluffy cushions on the chair, pulling the blanket around you. Seconds later, Milo trotted into the room after you. He lifted himself onto his back legs, his front paws supporting his weight against the upholstery of the chair.

You lifted the little man onto your lap, smiling as he snuggled against your belly as if he knew you needed comfort.

''There hasn't been a day during which I've regretted your arrival into our lives, my tiny love." You said as you caressed the soft fur between his floppy ears. Milo's cold nose occasionally bumped against the palm of your hand as he sniffed around.

The tears flowed freely down the cold surface of your face, silent and hot in contrast. You stroked Milo's fur, the rhythmic motion helping to calm you down. The rocking chair creaked softly as you rocked back and forth. The movement seemed to help soothe your loud inner voice that kept producing negative thoughts one after another.

Some time passed, and you weren't sure how long. The door creaked open, and you saw Lando standing there, his expression mixed with regret and sadness.

“Baby, ” he whispered, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…I'm stressed. But that’s no excuse.”

You looked up at him, the tears still glistening in your eyes. “I’m trying, Lando. This isn’t easy for me either.”

He knelt beside the chair, taking your hand in his. “I know, love. I know. I’m an idiot. I should be more understanding. Please come back to bed. You need your sleep. We'll solve this in the morning, okay?”

You nodded, wiping your tears. “Just… don’t forget we’re in this together, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and gentle, his lips lingering on yours. “I promise. Come back to bed? We can figure this out together.”

You stood up slowly, Milo jumping down to the floor. Lando wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you back to your bedroom. The bed felt warm and inviting, and as you settled back in, Lando pulled you close as much as your protruding belly allowed him.

Milo jumped onto the bed, curling up at your feet where he usually spent his nights. Lando kissed your forehead, his hand resting on your growing belly.

“Goodnight, baby. I love you” he whispered.

“Goodnight,love you too.” You replied, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you as sleepiness began to take over your tired body.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You woke up feeling a bit more rested, your body still aching, but your heart felt a little lighter.

Lando was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling back. Milo stretched out beside you, having moved up on the bed during the night , now wagging his tail lazily.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern etched in his eyes.

“Tired, but better,” you admitted. “Thank you for coming to get me last night.”

“I’ll always come for you.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll get through this together.”

You spent the morning in bed, talking and laughing, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day. Milo provided endless entertainment, his antics making you both laugh.

That evening, after a long day of preparing the nursery and spending quality time together, you were exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft surface of the pillow. Lando stayed up a little longer as his mind kept wandering.

He looked over at you, your face serene in sleep, and his heart swelled with love. He gently placed his hand on your belly, feeling the slight movements of your growing baby.

“Hey, little one,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake you. “I know I need to be better for your mom. She’s doing so much already, and I need to support her more. She needs her sleep, and I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Milo tilted his head, watching Lando with curious eyes before settling back down. Lando chuckled softly, patting Milo’s head.

“We’re a team,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your mom, Milo, and me. We’re going to be a great team, and we’ll always be here for you. I promise to be better.”

He leaned in and kissed your belly, then your forehead, before settling down beside you. Milo snuggled up at your feet, the three of you finally finding a moment of peace.

As you slept, you felt Lando’s hand still resting on your belly, his presence a comforting anchor. The journey ahead might be filled with challenges, but with Lando’s love and support, you felt ready to take on the journey of being a parent.

MASTERLIST

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Ten - Milo's Hot Momma

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.8K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

It was a relief when Milo climbed back into his mother's lap before they began their descent. She sat in her own seat and allowed Milo to take his place in her lap as Olivia sat opposite them. She was a big girl; she didn't need her daddy.

"The tattoos," Y/N began as she held Milo. "I feel like you've got them to appear all terrifying and intimidating, but you're secretly a loser," she said to Daniel.

"A loser?" He asked, but he was unable to contain his smile.

Y/N laughed, her chest shaking slightly. "Don't worry, Danny. All the best people are."

"Are you a loser?" Daniel couldn't stop himself from asking. When Y/N nodded her head, he decided he didn't mind being a loser.

***

"Keep a hold of my hand, Munchkin," said Y/N as she and Milo entered the paddock.

Milo began skipping as he walked beside his mother. "Do you think we'll get to meet any of the drivers, Momma?" He asked as they walked forward.

Y/N truly didn't know. Daniel had gotten to the circuit much before they had and she had no idea where they were meant to be going. There must be somebody she could ask.

Everybody was far too busy. Every time she approached someone they hurried away, unaware that she and Milo were even there, asking for help.

Finally, she found a man in a navy blue shirt with RED BULL printed on the back of it. Red Bull, that was Daniels old team, she recognised. "Come on, Munchkin," she said and placed Milo on her hip.

She kept a tight hold of him as they walked towards the man with the short blonde hair and blue eyes. "Excuse me," Y/N said before the man had the chance to walk away. The man turned, wearing an ever so kind smile on his face. "Could you help me? We're trying to find the AlphaTauri garage and we're a little lost."

"Of course," the guy said and pointed them in the right direction. He began walking, falling into step beside Y/N as he took her towards where she needed to go. "Are you an AlphaTauri fan?" He asked, noticing the hat on Milo's head.

"I am!" Milo answered and wriggled out of his mother's grip. She put him down and grasped his hand.

Y/N straightened up his hat on his head. "We're friends with Daniel Ricciardo," she answered. "Do you work in Formula One?"

Max couldn't stop himself from laughing at that. "You're not a Formula One fan, are you?" He asked. When she shook her head signalling no, he held out his hand. "I'm Max, I drive for Red Bull," he said.

"Oh!" Y/N suddenly cried. "Your team won last time, didn't you? Congratulations!'

"Thanks," Max said, somewhat bashful. "You said you're friends with Daniel?"

"Our kids are friends from daycare," she answered.

They chatted idly as Max led them to them to the AlphaTauri garage. The conversation was easy, enjoyable, friendly. Milo was happy to talk to Max, tell him everything he had learnt about Formula One so far (most of which Olivia had taught him).

At the AlphaTauri garage, Max left them there. He waved them a goodbye and disappeared, making his way back to the Red Bull garage.

Even though they were now where they were supposed to be, Y/N was lost. "Where do you think we go now, Milo?" She asked, not quite expecting an answer.

But she did get an answer, just not from Milo. "MILO!" Came a loud, familiar voice. Suddenly Olivia was running towards them. She quickly threw her arms around Milo, knocking his hat off in the process.

Her father walked up behind her, greeting Y/N in a much calmer way than Olivia greeted Milo. He still wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, just not as aggressively as Olivia did Milo.

Pulling away, Daniel picked the hat up from the floor and placed it on Milo's head. "Hey Loser," Y/N couldn't stop herself from saying as he pulled the hat down.

"Hey Loser," he mimicked like a parrot. Olivia pulled away from Milo and returned to her fathers side, a proud smile on her face. "We were beginning to think you weren't going to make it," Daniel said as he placed his hands on her head, messing up his neat braids. "And Olivia wanted to introduce Milo to everybody."

That didn't surprise Y/N one bit. "Milo would love to be introduced to all of Livvy's uncles," she said.

Suddenly Olivia grabbed a hold of Milo's hand. She pulled him away, running back through the paddock. "Milo!" Y/N shouted, trying to reach for her son.

"Livvy!" Daniel shouted at the same time as he attempted to grab her, but she was already gone, already taking off down the paddock.

Y/N looked at Daniel. Daniel looked at Y/N. "Shit," they both said and took off, following their children down the paddock.

The first place Olivia wanted Milo to see was the Red Bull garage. "You need to meet my uncle Max, uncle Christian and my uncle Checo," she said as she pulled him around the RB20 with the number 1 on it.

Rather abruptly, Olivia was no longer holding Milo's hand. She was no longer on the ground, instead hoisted into somebodies arms. "Livvy!" The familiar man cried as he held Olivia on his hip.

"Uncle Maxy!" She screamed as she wrapped her arms around him.

At first Max didn't recognise the little boy Olivia was dragging around the paddock. He hadn't learnt his name, but he still recognised him from the AlphaTauri hat on his head. "Who's your friend?" He still asked her.

"This is Milo," she said. "He's my best friend from daycare."

Suddenly Y/N and Daniel were behind them. "Milo!" Y/N shouted, her voice scolding as she picked him up. "Don't you ever run away like that again! You scared me half to death!"

Daniel took Olivia from Max's hands. "What were you thinking, Badger? You know you can't just run off like that," he said, his voice a lot calmer than hers.

Blushing red, Olivia tucked her face in against Daniels chest. "Daddy you're embarrassing me in front of uncle Maxy," she muttered.

"If you're gonna take Milo around the paddock, you need to make sure you have me or his momma with you, okay?"

"Okay," she replied quietly and Daniel placed Olivia back on the ground.

He watched as she walked back to her Uncle Max, who took her and Milo's hands and walked them further into the garage. Daniel checked the watch on his wrist. "Listen, I've got to go and get ready for free practice. Think you can get the kids back to the garage in twenty minutes?" He asked.

"Definitely," Y/N said as she checked the time on her phone.

Daniel kissed her cheek before he took off. Goddamn, she was never going to wash that cheek again.

***

On Saturday it was a little easy to navigate the paddock. Y/N and Milo found themselves in the AlphaTauri garage with Daniel, Olivia, and Daniels teammate, Yuki.

Olivia and Milo were passionately defending McDonalds to Yuki. He was acting as babysitter while Daniel took Y/N into his drivers room. "I'm pretty sure I have an AlphaTauri shirt somewhere in here," he said as he went through the little wardrobe he had in his drivers room.

At last, he found one. "Aha," he said, wearing a grin as he pulled it from his wardrobe and passed it to her.

She took it gratefully. "Well, turn around then," she said, her smile somewhat daring. Daniel made a big show of shutting his eyes and turning around so that Y/N could get changed into his AlphaTauri shirt. "There," she said and Daniel turned around.

He placed his arm over her shoulders and walked her out of the drivers room, back to where the kids were still talking to Yuki. It was impressive enough that Yuki had managed to keep the swearing to a minimum, but Daniel supposed he'd had enough practice in front of Olivia after the last year of them being teammates.

"Now everybody knows who the hot single momma is supporting," he said as they joined his teammate.

This didn't go unnoticed by anybody in the AlphaTauri garage. Even those in Red Bull could see it, the fond looks they shared, the way Daniel was always standing close to her, the way he so clearly wanted to kiss her.

"You think I'm hot?" Y/N replied, but her tone was teasing.

Daniel spluttered like he had just been caught out. "Y-yeah, sure," he answered like he was unsure of himself. "You're Milo's hot momma."

"Well, if Olivia's hot papa thinking I'm hot, then it must be true," she said as she picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. They looked like quite a pair, with Milo in his AlphaTauri cap and Y/N in her shirt.

They watched the qualifying from the garage, with Olivia holding Y/N's hand and Milo sat in her lap. The qualifying felt incredibly long, but not boring. It was nerve wracking and, if she wasn't holding onto the kids, Y/N's nails would have been chewed down to nothing.

After Q1 was over, Y/N thought that was it. Daniel had finished in the top fifteen, top ten actually. He had made it through to Q2 but she didn't realise that, not until it was happening. "Livvy, what's going on?" She tried to ask, but Olivia had AlphaTauri ear defenders on and couldn't hear a thing.

Again, Daniel finished in the top ten. "Must be my lucky charms," he'd said down over the radio. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant, who he meant.

Daniel made it through Q3. He was doing better than his teammate, who had finished just outside of the top ten in Q2. He didn't finish as high as he wanted in Q3, not considering he wanted to go back to his glory days in Red Bull, but it was still good.

Starting P6 wasn't bad for an AlphaTauri, he decided as he climbed out of his car. He went through all of the usual procedures before making his way back to Olivia, Y/N and Milo.

A sweaty Daniel was... something else. Y/N couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he walked past them. She almost let out a low whistle, but she held back, remained her composure in front of the children.

If watching Formula One meant seeing a sweaty Daniel, she could live with that.

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[zer0wzs]

"𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙤"

[ gn!reader ] jason todd does not know how greatly positive the impact of owning a dog is wc: 1232

AN: i whipped this up just randomly my apologies if its kinda just . eh??? i still like it to some extent and oh!! this is my first jason pov fic

“That’s Milo, I’m guessing?” Jason mused.

“Yeah! Isn’t he the cutest?” You grin, pointing at the four-month-old beagle. It’s Jason’s first time meeting the dog. He’s only known him through pictures so far, but you’ve only had him for a few days anyway. “Gosh, he’s the absolute cutest.”

Like a slightly dismissive father, Jason wasn’t too keen on the idea of getting a pet. Rent is high enough as it is, even in terms of Gotham’s cost of living, and as wonderful as the idea is, it would only dent his schedule.

You, however, go against his views (Not that he ever forced it on you) and adopt a rescue puppy from a nearby shelter.

“I don’t know. You might like the dog more than me.” He joked.

He’s still on the fence about this. Though you live on the more well-off side of the city, the neighborhoods here still aren’t the safest place to walk dogs. He’d hate to see you devastated if the dog got hurt.

“Aww,” you pout, giggling as you walk up to him and pinch his cheek—Milo cuddled in one arm. He’s perplexed, for sure, but he doesn’t reject this affection at all. Hell, he likes it for sure. “My pretty Jay is jealous.”

He scoffs, not knowing how to reply. His snarkiness is wiped. How embarrassing. He felt his cheeks flushing and eyebrows cinching. God, this was embarrassing. You’re kind of embarrassing. He wants it no other way, though. “No, I’m not? I did not say anything like—”

“It’s okaaaay,” you hum, swaying on your feet as you put Milo back on the floor. You pull his cheeks and sway each other back and forth. “You’ll always be my number one.”

He feels a kiss on his cheek, and his body pulls him back to look at it. It has its own mind that is disposed of you at this point.

The faint smell of your citrus shampoo is less notable. It’s been slowly replaced by the eternal fuzzy dog smell Milo, like any other dog, holds. He doesn’t hate it. Although he loves your usual scent, this is nice too. 

“What do you think?” You ask, breaking the silence one more. He sees the way your shoulders freeze a little and the way your eyebrows worriedly pull up. “Do you think he’s cute, or—”

“I think Milo is very lively. Very energetic. I like him.” Jason assures you with a hand holding your face, thumb caressing the cheek. “I’m just worried that it would take a toll on—”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “I got this, though! You know how long I’ve been preparing for this.”

And he does. He’s seen you do the research. He’s seen you visit the shelter multiple times. He’s seen you saving up the money for the puppy—including food, vaccines, medicine, toys, and whatever things you fear the dog may need. He’s seen it all, and he questions why he’s even doubting you.

You’re smart. You’re strong. He comes to the conclusion, though, that he still holds the position to worry. He believes in it. At the end of the day, your safety and comfort is his responsibility.

You two are walking Milo—or, rather, you are; Jason’s just more than happy to accompany you.

He declines your many offers to hold his leash. He fears losing something that means so much to you or hurting him with a simple tug because of his sheer strength. He’s calculated, sure, but he’s not cut for this simple life. He knows roughly how much it would take him to bring down a squad of armed men, but he does not know when a batter is over or undermixed.

You don’t know that, though. It’ll stay that way, he thinks.

“I think this is it.” Your voice snaps Jason out of his thoughts. He looks at you and sees that you’re radiating, no, buzzing in excitement when you spot the sign that says, ‘dog park. “Here, Milo!”

You step inside the fenced area, and the puppy is more than eager to explore the new territory. Unclasping the leash from his collar, you give him a kiss on his snout before he runs to the pack of dogs—some big, some small.

He sees your caution that borders on uneasiness, watching if the dogs are friendly to him or not. 

“He’s adorable,” he says to break the tension, watching him play with his friends.

The worry on your face is lessened as you look at him. “Well, they do say that pets look like their owners.”

“Mmm, I see it,” he hums, pulling you closer by the chin and giving you a peck on the lips.

 “You really think so?” You bury yourself to his side. Your skin is an awful lot colder than his. He supposes, though, that it's just his body. That it simply overheats.

“Mhm.” He nods, pulling you impossibly closer to him with your head tucked right under his chin.

“Aw, thank you.”  The two of you stand like that for a few minutes.

Jason thinks it's sweet. He feels a foreign tenderness that’s only known to you. He’s learned to like it.

This feeling brings him close enough for him to imagine a family with you. The two of you are parents, and Milo is a son—your son. 

Too soon? His eye twitches as he sweeps the dream under the rug.

“Jay, look!” You grinned, pointing to Milo and some other dogs.

He’s surrounded by a pack of dogs, but they are clearly far from fighting. He definitely is an outgoing pet, something he probably got from you—or would get if-, yeah.

“I’m glad he’s getting along well. For a second, I was worried that the dogs would be hostile towards him.” 

“I don’t any man or dog could be angry at him. He’s too cute to be mad at.”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder. “I totally agree.”

Jason is sitting by your kitchen island figuring out a jigsaw puzzle you got him when he hears you giggle uncontrollably.

“Milo, Miiiilooo,” You cooed, cuddling the puppy closer and closer to your face. He licks your face, teeth faintly grazing the tip of your nose. You’re only giddy about it. “I love you.”

It’s right then and there, after that interaction, where everything clicks: Jason realizes he does not want, or rather cannot, be with anyone else.

Ever so gentle and ever so kind, you are. It only shines through with how much heart you can and do pour into this puppy. No matter how many shoes he tears through, the rolls of tissues he makes a mess out of, and the times he’s chewed through your hair, it seems that your love is always bountiful and dedicated.

He realized how shallow this sounds. Maybe it’s just the way he was raised. To be grateful for any semblance of gift you had.

“Darling,” he calls out.

“Yes?” You answer, lying on the floor while petting Milo.

“I love you.”

Jason thinks that he wants to be more than welcoming to the small creature. Getting a dog might be a good idea.

Certainly, you seem confused, and he’s almost scared that you’ll reject it. He knows that that won’t be the case (or, at least, he listens to you tell him that).

“I love you too, Jay-love,” you smile.

[kiri-thighs]

Express | J.Fisher

FEM! READER

summary: you and jeremiah are best friends and you two get into a terrible argument on the beach after showing mixed signals of each other's company. you express your feelings for him at the end of it and he realizes with you two obviously ignoring each other that he has those same feelings for you.

warnings: angst, mentions of underage drinking, cursing + TAKES PLACE IN AMAZON PRIME VIDEO SERIES SEASON 2. If you don't want minor spoilers please don't read OR you can watch season 2 first!! this one shot does not completely go with the plot of the show!

thank you and enjoy lovely readers 🤍

"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N." Jeremiah said, half intoxicated due to them leaving a party at Susannah's house. Susannah was gone and all of you had decided to throw a party.

Rewinding to at least an hour before he had said those words to you, what led up to this moment was surprising. As you and Jeremiah were partying, about to kiss a fight broke out between Milo and Steven.

Another event happened where Skye ended up sharing the news about their mom, Julia making a deal with the kids that lived, well used to live at the Cousins beach house.

You and the others were allowed one week each summer, since the family that Julia had sold it to wasn't going to use it too much. Jeremiah, you and Belly hearing the news, all three of you were happy.

Though there was one person that couldn't accept the deal and that was when Jeremiah and Conrad ended up fighting. You were in the middle of it.

"Jere don't say that-" You said, holding his arm as Jeremiah pushed you away, which caused you to be taken aback. As Belly was leaving, Skye went after her. You stayed as you watched Jeremiah throw hurtful words towards Conrad.

"Jere stop-" You said but Jeremiah looked at you, after everything that he said to Conrad.

"So what you're defending him now too?" Jeremiah asked as you looked at Conrad, before looking down and shaking your head.

"I'm, I'm not sure." You whispered.

"Yeah. There it is again. The I'm not sure from Y/N. One happy thing, such a small thing that everyone could be happy about and you go and ruin it Conrad." Jeremiah said as he walked away.

As everyone seemed to go their separate ways, you stayed in front of Conrad as you felt your chest was hurting.

Conrad was silent, his eyes teary due to the words that Jeremiah said towards him. Conrad looked up as you were lost in thought, your mind vacant before you hear Conrad calling out your name. You looked up at him when he asked, "You okay?" his voice was shaky, hoarse and like it was caught in his throat.

"Yeah...yeah it's just," You started before sighing. "Last summer was messy." You stood there as your voice was shaky too, wondering why in this moment you felt like breaking down.

There was one specific person that you loved so much. That person was Jeremiah Fisher. Yet with how things were going last summer due to the whole love triangle, Susannah and other messy stuff, it was like that again.

You were caught in the middle of it and it was not until this summer that your feelings for Jeremiah were growing uncontrollably larger.

"As soon as school got out, hearing about the house being sold I've been trying hard too. To get the house back. To talk some sense into your dad. To talk to your aunt and I never once told anyone how much things have effected me." You said as your eyes teared up remembering the way Jeremiah and Conrad looked at each other with so much remorse.

"I love Jere. So much, Conrad" You whispered. "Last summer I realized I liked Jeremiah even if he's been my best friend my entire life. Seeing Jere and Bells kiss with Steven, I couldn't take that happiness away." You smiled as you wiped your tears, you weren't a drinker so these were your raw emotions, not intensified too much because there was no alcohol intake.

Conrad seemed to go more silent hearing that Jeremiah and Belly kissed, as if not knowing that already. It was a reminder that Belly couldn't choose. You looked at him as if apologizing for bringing it up.

"Conrad," You called out, "I wanna keep fighting for this house but I don't know how much more all of us can take if it's causing this much damage," You said truthfully as your tears were falling harder. Conrad was crying as well, his head held low before pulling you into a hug.

You two were somewhat the same. Bottling things up, though Conrad got the bigger blow. You hugged Conrad tightly as you sniffled, continuing what you were saying.

"I just had to be there for you both," You mumbled. "You are here," Conrad mumbled. "You are, you really are." Conrad said in a shaky tone, not knowing how else to comfort you. Not knowing if what he was doing for you was helping you feel better.

You didn't want Belly to be alone but the one person that needed someone, knowing that Conrad would go after Belly, you knew no one would be there for Jeremiah.

Conrad pulled away as you wiped your tears. Conrad wiped his away as he patted your head. "Go after Belly," You told Conrad. You pointed to his chest.

"I already know you will." You smiled at him as Conrad nodded. Everyone rarely saw you cry. You knew that you had just let it all go to Conrad, but knew that he had something to take care.

Conrad nodded as he slowly walked away from you, leaving you there to wipe your tears away in hopes that they would be gone. You took a deep breath before walking back into the beach house, the strobing lights still seen through the house's windows since the curtains seemed to not be covering any part of the windows.

You looked through the crowd, trying to find Jeremiah amongst the people dancing and drinking. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes always made you cringe, you and Cam always got along pretty well when it came to parties because you two didn't drink.

You didn't drink specifically because your mom died due to a drunk driver. You didn't want to be that way, and there would come a time when you would finally drink.

You saw spray painting on the wall, people breaking windows and tables as you shook your head, moving past people who were shoving you left and right.

Finally though you found Jeremiah standing against a wall with a red cup already in his hands. You were in front of him as he looked down at you with the same angry expression he showed Conrad.

He was ready to leave, pulling his weight off of the wall as he turned away from you. You grabbed his wrist quickly, making him accidentally drop the red cup in his hand, spilling the drink on the ground.

Jeremiah tried his hardest to hold back his anger, you being his best friend he couldn't be mad. Not at you completely. You looked up at him as he turned around, his eyes still averted away from yours.

"Can we talk?" You asked him, loud enough to go past the loud music that was playing.

"I don't see a reason," Jeremiah said as you bit the inside of your lip and held his wrist harder.

"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." You said as Jeremiah finally looking at you. The reason he didn't want to look at you was because he saw you crying on Conrad.

He knew the reason why you were crying and it was because of him. He knew that too well that he was the one that made you cry, yet he couldn't comfort you and say that it was okay.

Jeremiah pulled his wrist away from your strong grip before walking outside with you, to the beach, a different part of it since Belly and Conrad were talking as well.

You followed after him, as you stared at the back of his head before he finally stopped when you both reached your favorite log on the beach. He turned around as he stared at you with a look of anger still.

"If this is about what I said to Conrad, I'm not taking it back." Jeremiah said.

"Jere you didn't have to say all of that-" "He asked for my blessing, Y/N" Jeremiah started getting riled up, already feeling that anger was bottled up inside of him.

"Yes he did, but he needed someone, he needed his brother and this summer you guys have been butting heads indirectly but things were getting better," You said as had your hands out, you trying not to get teary eyed. Yes you were defending Conrad because he was in the right, but you wanted Jeremiah to know that too.

"Since when were we getting better?" Jeremiah asked as he scoffed, laughing a bit because it was unbelievable to him. "He took Belly away from me. I had to watch him and Belly together. I thought of all people you would know how lonely I was because I was there for my mom when no one wasn't." Jeremiah said, his voice partially raising.

You felt your heart ache as your tears were starting to become visible but you wiped your face while Jeremiah was looking away. You didn't know. How else to tell him. How else could you possibly comfort him?

"Jere," You called out, "I'm here," Was all that could slip out.

"Where were you then? When were you here?" Jeremiah asked as his eyes were tearing up, his eyes seeming to get rid of the anger slowly but it was evidently still there.

"You always comforted everyone else before you came and checked up on me. You ran after Belly when her and Conrad fought at my mom's funeral. MY MOM'S funeral. You told me that you would always be there for me first, you liar." Jeremiah pointed to his chest, as he was hitting his chest with his fingers as he was saying that.

You hated it. Seeing him in so much pain but you were in pain as well. "Jere, I tried to take care of everyone and I'm sorry. I swear I came to check up on you first you're twisting the story," You said, trying to stay calm, while Jeremiah was raising his voice at you.

"You know what, whose side are you on?" Jeremiah asked as he put his hands on his hips, turning his body as he was now rejecting looking at you.

"I saw Conrad hugging you," "Jere are you seriously doing this right now-" "Doing what? Watching you be comforted because you're what the girl version of me and Conrad combined? Bottling shit up and then acting like it's okay? Yet you don't even go and run after me?"

"You aren't making any sense Jere why are you blaming me for that thing specifically?" You asked as you put your hand on Jeremiah's but he pushed you away once again, like he did back there during his argument with Conrad.

"Don't fucking touch me." Jeremiah said with a rough voice. "Whose side are you on." Jeremiah asked as you bit your lip.

You clenched your fists, "What do you even mean Jere?!" You finally yelled which took him aback. You looked away as your chest was heaving.

"When was I here? I've been here the entire time! Being in the middle of you and Conrad. The middle of you and Belly. The middle of you three!" You yelled as you stepped towards him, you pointing your finger on his chest as you were pushing him with it.

"I was there even if I was in pain too. With my mother's death at the beginning of last summer, then Susannah was next. You don't see it do you?" You asked as your tears were falling uncontrollably.

"You needed someone and when you say no one was there for you I watched you miserably. I watched you and felt invisible. You focused on Belly so much when you guys had a thing and I had to act like I was okay with that." You laughed but it mixed with crying too.

"I tried so hard to continuously fix things. Every time Belly had a conflict with Conrad or you I would be there for her. Every time you felt so alone I was there. I was there for each and every one of you and yet you're asking me where I was?!" You yelled.

"Y/N-" Jeremiah said as he took your finger off of his chest and held your hand but you pulled your hand off of him. "I get how much Belly effected you. How much you love her," You said as you knew the next words that you were about to say were fucked up. You knew that you shouldn't put yourself before others.

"I love you Jere," You said, in hopes that he would return the feelings. Yet you knew. You knew that you two made a promise to one another that you would never fall for each other.

There was complete silence, the silence killing you but Jeremiah was taking time to process. The processing ended up stopping, but the next words that Jeremiah said towards you were words that you wished he would never say to you, but he did.

"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N" Jeremiah said as he had a face of disgust. An expression he never had towards you but to others. You saw the way he looked at you, the way that you wished he hadn't.

"So that's it," You said as your breath hitched before your next words came. "You and I were about to kiss, obviously getting even closer during this whole week and you say that to me," You said as Jeremiah looked away.

"That was a mistake," Jeremiah said as your lips quivered, tears falling harder. "I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to kiss someone." Jeremiah lied, but you didn't know that. Jeremiah knew that he didn't want to hurt you if he was still in love with Belly.

"You wanted to kiss someone?" You asked as Jeremiah nodded. "I love Belly." Jeremiah said straightforwardly. "We promised each other that we wouldn't."

"Fuck- promises are meant to be broken!" You yelled. "Can't you make an exception just this once? That you can love me somehow? The way I love you?" You asked, begging for Jeremiah to somehow look at you the way he always has.

The one time that you finally break, after being so worn out with being the therapy friend, the friend that everyone could depend on but at your lowest moments you could only depend on Susannah and Laurel.

Susannah was gone and that impacted you too but you knew that if you compared it to the pain that Jeremiah and Conrad felt, it would be selfish. That the mother figure that replaced your mom when she passed, was now gone and the last mother figure you had was Laurel.

"I can't fucking look at you." Jeremiah said, his breath shaky. "I can't believe you." Jeremiah said as he started walking past you. You didn't watch him leave, as you stood there, still in front of your favorite log that you two would always have heartfelt conversations on.

Before he could walk away completely, you turned to him. "You can't just leave it at that!" You yelled before Jeremiah stopped. You sobbed as you begged for him one more time, wanting his answer to change.

"Yes I can." Jeremiah said as he turned around, his eyebrows knitted. "I can say that I can't." Jeremiah said, his voice shaky because he was afraid. Afraid that he was losing you now too and it was because of the words that were coming out of his mouth.

You walked up to him and tried your hardest but still he pushed you off of him. He would never treat a girl like this, ever. Yet it seemed like you were a different case. He wanted to get away from you.

"Just- Just get away from me alright?!" Jeremiah yelled which made you stop. You froze and as you did, Jeremiah ran his fingers through his hair before his tears fell as his breath was hitching too.

You watched as he sobbed, his emotions seeming to stir in the pot but with each new ingredient in there, it was the wrong ones every time. You reached out to Jeremiah, but your efforts were short as he finally decided to leave.

This time you didn't go after him. As much as you tried to comfort him, he still walked away without turning back even if your cries were heard. You had tried to hug him, knowing that was always the solution but this time, that solution was last place.

You fell to your knees as you sobbed out, wishing that the conversation ended on a high note but it didn't. Your heart ached before you felt everything suddenly get blurry and shaky. Due to the many emotions you were feeling everything had gone black.

NEXT MORNING

The sun was shining over Cousins beach. The next morning came and everyone at the party was gone. The guests were gone at least except the mess that was left behind.

You felt your breath catch in your lungs before waking up when you felt the glare of the sun hitting your body. You woke up, getting up from the sand on the beach.

"Did I really sleep here?" You asked before your eyes softened realizing no one noticed you were gone. You were hoping Jeremiah would at least bring you inside or be concerned for you seeing that you didn't come inside later that night.

You had your hands on the sand before standing up, your legs feeling numb because of the emotions that were still hitting you right as you wake up.

You walked off of the beach and into the beach house, seeing that the door was wide open, before realizing Laurel's car was there in the driveway.

You blinked before you realized. You ran inside but was met with Belly walking out of the house. Belly was holding her cheek. "Bells?" You called out as held her arm, trying to stop her. She hugged you tightly, her tears falling onto your shoulder.

You were shocked seeing the amount of tears coming out of Belly's eyes. You held the back of her head as you hugged her tightly before she pulled away and walked out to the beach.

You watched as she left, your breathing on double time before walking inside knowing that she needed space. You saw Laurel there, with Steven, Conrad and Jeremiah.

Steven told Laurel that Belly and the rest of the kids were at least here for Susannah's boys while Laurel was absent. After hearing Laurel already knew about the house being up for sale. Everyone walked away from Laurel and apparently you now. Jeremiah didn't bat an eye at you, covered in sand.

Laurel looked over to you before you looked away. "I'll start cleaning up," You whispered. "Belly needs her mom right now." You whispered before grabbing a trash bag, feeling somewhat small as you started to clean the place.

It was an hour or two later that Laurel announced that she would fight for the house and talk to Julia about it. Everyone was thankful for Laurel, glad that Belly reached out to her mom.

You kept your distance from everyone as you felt invisible and sad again. You looked at Jeremiah a few times but he never looked at you. He really did mean that he wouldn't look at you at all.

Julia finally arrived and as the kids were cleaning up, Laurel pulled Julia aside talking at Susannah and her's favorite spot.

You continued to clean up as Belly came over to you with Taylor. "You okay?" Belly asked, her hand on your back. You didn't know that Jeremiah and the others were also listening in as well.

"Yeah, just a little tired." You told Belly. "Jere and I had a big argument last night." You smiled sadly. As Belly pulled you aside along with Taylor and Skye who seemed to tag along, Steven looked over at Jeremiah.

"What happened?" Steven asked Jeremiah who was scrubbing the wall, trying to get the spray paint off of it. Jeremiah shook his head. He knew if he thought about it then he would've said the wrong things somehow.

"Nothing," "Well it doesn't seem like nothing Jere. Taylor and I watched the whole thing. I wanted to punch you so badly seeing the way you made her cry." Steven said as Conrad awkwardly listened, still on the silent treatment with Jeremiah.

Steven put down his trash bag as he made Jeremiah stop too. "I get it. We've all been through a lot of shit man but I know damn well that you love Y/N. More than Belly." Steven said as Jeremiah looked away.

"I don't." "You really are an airhead like they all say." Steven chuckled before making Jeremiah face him.

"You may think that taking the easier option is better but the better option will always be there for you and if I'm going to be honest it's Y/N. You said it so yourself. Belly will always have something for Conrad. There's someone though waiting for you." Steven said since Conrad left the room. Jeremiah looked up at Steven as Steven was awkwardly smiling.

"I.." Jeremiah said before his shoulders fell, "I fucked up so badly," Jeremiah said as Steven agreed.

"Well yeah. Can't say that I don't agree with you cause I do." Steven laughed as Jeremiah nodded.

"I..I don't know. I just don't know." "Well you gotta know somehow. All the things you said weren't her true intentions and even you know that when you start to regret what you said. She's always been there for you. Through everything. Of course she would love you dude. It isn't hard to love someone like you. Especially her. She always finds a reason." Steven reassured as Jeremiah's eyes teared up.

"Do you think she'd forgive me? For the things I said? I've never in my life spoke to her like that. I've never said such harsh things to her and yet in that moment it felt that that was the only thing that I could do." Jeremiah explained, his obvious regret showing.

"Give it a day or two. You'll probably realize it more." Steven patted Jeremiah's shoulder. "What you said was fucked. Even I would be hurt if someone said that to me." Steven said, not trying to blame Jeremiah but he knew that the two would push through.

Jeremiah paused for a bit before nodding. He knew that he had to do something somehow. He knew if he wasn't there for you the way you were there for him, then no one would be. Hearing that you slept on the beach, eavesdropping and everything no one came to come get you.

Jeremiah knew that as a best friend he should've been there for you. To carry you inside despite being so mad at you. He knew that he put his emotions first. Who knows what could've happened. He wasn't there for you the way you were there for him.

Those thoughts of what he said to you last night started to course through his mind. He winced at the thought of everything as Steven went to go clean more.

He would give it a day or two, in hopes that he would realize it all.

That he needed you, and loved you the way you did.

Taylor was currently giving you a hug as you tried your best not to cry. You stayed so strong up until now but again, you were a carbon copy of Conrad and Jeremiah combined. Belly and Skye were rubbing your back as you cried.

You hated the words that Jeremiah said towards you. Taylor had heard it all with Steven and explained everything to Belly and Skye for you so that you didn't have to.

You closed your eyes, hoping that all of this was a bad dream. Hoping that what Jeremiah said wasn't meant. Your chest kept on going up and down quickly. You were hiccuping as your walls crashed down.

You hoped that the house would be in the possession of the boys. You knew though that you didn't want to be a part of it anymore. You told yourself as you were being comforted, that this would be your last summer at the Cousin's house.

THE NEXT DAY

As you all were wrapping things up, Conrad and Jeremiah had a heartfelt conversations the night before. It seemed that everything was able to be fixed yesterday except things with you and Jeremiah.

You of course included yourself in helping Conrad study for his test in Brown to get into Stanford. Everyone was all for it, especially Belly. Yesterday evening was the last time you saw Julia and Skye for now.

After being able to convince Jeremiah and Conrad's dad about selling the house they had in Boston, things started to get good from there.

The morning came around and things needed to finish up. With the house not being on the market, everyone needed to go home and would be able to come back whenever they'd like and whenever everyone had free time.

You smiled as you were saying goodbye to Laurel. While the others were saying goodbye to one another, you wanted to talk to Laurel first.

"Thank you so much Laurel for everything that you've done up to this point." You said as you were holding her hands. Laurel smiled as she looked at you. You looked back at her, and the obvious eye bags were under your eyes.

"I heard what happened between you and Jeremiah," Laurel said as she gave you a hug. "Thank you so much for being here for everyone. We'd love to see you here again next summer or this summer if anything." You softened up in Laurel's hold before holding onto her and smiling.

"I'll think about it," You said as Laurel nodded. Laurel slowly pulled away as everyone started getting into their cars. You ended up actually driving here, so you didn't have a problem taking your time getting home. You took a good look at the Cousins house.

You weren't ready to leave yet, as everyone was talking about when they would next be all together. Everyone was saying the fourth. You looked at everyone in the group before smiling and humming.

"Yeah, I'll be available whenever." You chuckled as you started waving goodbye to everyone. "I'm gonna stay here for a bit longer. Conrad tell me how the test goes. Tell us everything," You smiled as Conrad nodded, with a content smile.

"See you whenever, Y/N" You nodded as everyone seemed to be driving out of the driveway. You didn't notice that Jeremiah actually stayed behind, instead of driving off in his brother's car. Conrad ended up leaving without Jeremiah.

You had your back turned, oblivious to Jeremiah staying behind as you walked into the Cousin's house, going to the pool as you dipped your feet in the cold water.

You heard the door open and looked back seeing Jeremiah was there, his hands in his pockets as he looked over at you, sitting on the ledge of the swimming pool.

You slowly looked away, still kicking your feet gently. Jeremiah slowly sat next to you, dipping his feet in the water with yours. It was silent for a good minute as the awkward silence was sitting there with you two as well.

Jeremiah was the first to break the silence, as he looked at you slowly, seeing that you were watching your feet kick in the water that you were now used to since they have been in there for at least a minute.

"Let's talk?" He asked as you tensed up a little before shaking your head. "I don't see a reason to." You snapped back, repeating his words from last night. To your surprise though, Jeremiah said the exact same thing that you had said to him too. You both switched placed though.

"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." Jeremiah whispered which made you stop kicking your feet. You slowly looked over at Jeremiah, your eyes already teary eyed. Jeremiah stared at your hurt filled eyes as he winced seeing how drained you looked.

Jeremiah reached up as he cupped your cheek gently, but you pulled away a bit. Jeremiah still tried though, holding both of your cheeks as he took a good look at you.

"No," Jeremiah whispered. "Don't pull away," You shook your head more as you held onto Jeremiah's wrists, wanting to shove his hands off of you but you knew that if you didn't want to do that truly.

"But you did," You told Jeremiah as you continued to look at his ocean eyes. "You pushed me away," Jeremiah nodded.

"I know I did, and I'm sorry Y/N." Jeremiah said as he wiped away the tears that were streaming down your cheeks as they were coming down.

"You didn't eat today or yesterday. You haven't slept either. I saw you were still awake even when everyone else was sleeping." Jeremiah said as he put his thumb gently under one of your eyes, seeing the obvious eye bags that already grew.

"It's hard to when you're mad at me." You admitted. "I didn't think you would have noticed me at all since you said that you couldn't look at me," You looked away as Jeremiah's eyes softened.

"Everything with Conrad, I resolved all of it. We told each other that we would talk things out as they come and not let them linger." Jeremiah admitted towards you.

"Things with Belly..I already knew that I don't love her that way. That there will always be a better option for me and..Y/N that's you." Jeremiah said, trying to convince you that the words he said to you a night ago was wrong.

You continued to look away as Jeremiah was the one speaking this time. "I do love you too. In the way that a best friend does but the way that a lover does too." Jeremiah said as he slowly let go of your cheeks, grabbing hold of your hands that he noticed were shaking, seeing your body tremble as well.

He could still see the silent cries you were giving and he knew that instead of being jealous of others that he'd rather be there for you than watch you crying in someone else's arms.

You stayed silent as you listened to Jeremiah, still trying to register everything. "I know..it's hard to forget what I said. But I'd rather say this and take back all of the words." Jeremiah held your hands still, trying to stop them from shaking as he kissed your hands gently.

He closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry for the way I talked to you. I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sorry for blaming you and lying to you that it was a mistake." You started to sob but Jeremiah didn't stop.

"I'm sorry for pushing you away and thinking you're invisible..you aren't. I needed someone and Belly couldn't be there for me because she was always with Conrad the most. I'm sorry for forgetting about you." Jeremiah's voice started to become shaky, starting to get emotional as he continued.

"I'm sorry for never realizing how much I loved you, Y/N." Jeremiah stopped when you took your hands off of Jeremiah's hands. With this, Jeremiah thought that you were going to get up and leave but you had your hands on his chest, pushing him gently.

Jeremiah looked up at you as you looked at him, hiccuping as your voice finally came out. "Stop," You whispered as you punched him gently, "Just kiss me already," You begged as Jeremiah's eyes widened.

Jeremiah put his forehead on yours as he watched you start to calm down, feeling how close he was to you. Jeremiah gently, hesitantly grabbed your cheek.

"I want to kiss you, I really do." Jeremiah said as your noses touched, booping one another's. "Out of all the people, it was always you." Jeremiah said before his lips hit yours.

Your body stopped trembling, as you melted into the kiss that Jeremiah had given you. Your first kiss was with your best friend. This was Jeremiah's millionth kiss probably but to you, this was the kiss you wanted it to be with.

You kissed Jeremiah, wrapping your arms around Jeremiah's neck as you pulled him closer.

He pulled you closer by the waist as he held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. You pulled away for a second before reconnecting your lips together with his.

Jeremiah tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear, feeling his chest was about to explode because of how much his heart was beating double time.

No one else could make both of you feel this way, both of you knew that for sure as you felt sparks. As Jeremiah slowly pulled away, Jeremiah stared into your eyes as he smiled softly, seeing how out of breath you were.

"The tears are gone." Jeremiah pointed out as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You pressed your lips against his curly hair, closing your eyes slowly.

Jeremiah looked up at you again, pulling away a bit from the hug. He connected his lips with yours again, kissing you was so easy to him it seemed.

You kissed him back instantly, smiling in the kiss because you felt better. You felt that things really were going to be okay with Jeremiah. Jeremiah pulled away this time, staring at your lips before pecking it gently with a smile.

Jeremiah rubbed your back gently before getting up and helping you up as well. Jeremiah held your hands before sitting down on one of the beach chairs with you. He put you on his lap gently, having you face him.

You had your hands on his shoulders, having some support as you stared into his eyes.

As you two were silently looking at one another, the silence was broken when both of you said at the same time,

"I love you," You and him stared at each other before laughing softly together.

"Let's stay here for a bit, then I'll come over and sleep over." Jeremiah said as you nodded.

"I'd love that, a lot." You said as you pushed all of your weight on Jeremiah's as he laid on the beach chair with you on top of him.

Jeremiah kissed your forehead gently, having his arms up as a arm pillow.

Jeremiah closed his eyes as he smiled softly. "Me too,"

[tommytomatoe]

sometimes asher smiles at pack members a little too wide for a little too long, and babe feels their chest swell with… something. 

they wouldn’t call it jealousy because what would they have to be jealous of. asher isn’t the guy to cheat, he would never. but even then, even knowing that, there’s still this voice in the back of babe’s mind thinking, “well, maybe he would.” and the spiraling begins.

after all, babe is just a human. its not like they run in pack races or know what shifting feels like or can have meaningful inputs in conversations regarding magic. this isn’t a world they grew up in, but for asher, milo, david, darlin’, and the rest of the pack; its home. for babe, it's just a house. and because of this, babe has more than once found themself just sitting in on pack meetings and smiling and nodding and waiting for asher to look back at them. 

and sometimes he doesn’t. instead he just talks and smiles at childhood friends he has deep histories with. histories that are so complex and rooted in who asher is that babe wonders why he chose to be with them and not someone else. and that swelling feeling comes back and they have to excuse themselves because god forbid they make a scene. that’s not babe’s style, they prefer to suffer in silence.

babe loves asher and they know asher loves them. but asher loves everyone and everything and it’s hard for babe to figure out where his love for them stands compared to his love for everyone else. 

[jar0fhoney]

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 (NSFW) / PART 4 /

PART FIVE (NSFW)

Warning: Mentions of Pregnancy and virginity. piv.

You started Sunday the same way you always did. Wake up before dawn, start breakfast for you and Ma, stare out the window and think about the list of chores you could never keep up with.

“It’s a beautiful morning!” Your mother shuffled past your open door towards the kitchen, “Are you sure I can’t just handle all the work in the field today? Won’t you want to relax before your friend arrives?”

“Mother, please do not blow this out of proportion.” You scolded her light-heartedly, “I’m just going to do my work as usual, and when he stops by I’ll take a break-”

“My baby is getting courted by a big strong orc~” She sang out to you. You followed her to the kitchen. “How did you know he’s courting me?”

“So he is courting you.” She swayed back and forth in front of the hearth, throwing bits of kindling onto the fire.

“Well- I-”

“Y/n, don’t you remember. When I told you about the family that lived in the neighboring plot. The wife told me so much about how strange orc courting was, especially with her being human, and-”

“You didn’t tell me it was a half-orc family…” 

She turned to you with a devious smirk, “Wouldn’t you like to know about a half-orc family.” “MA!” You grabbed an apple from the table (a bright red one that matched the color of your face) and ran out the door. You weren’t really mad at her, but this entire situation was so out of your comfort zone. The only experience you ever really had with being pursued was desperately avoiding Milo for the past two years.

You glanced at the sundial in the garden. Three hours. You had three hours to try and get some work done in the field and shake off the nerves.

-

The tomatoes were a mess. No wonder, this was a corner of the field that had been sorely neglected this season. The sun was climbing higher, and the heat of its rays were beginning to lick the back of your neck. What time was it anyways?

“SO NICE TO MEET YOU- OH YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE!”

Your mothers voice was loud enough to carry all the way to your little corner in the tomato patch. You shot to your feet, craning your neck to see her enthusiastically fawning over a slightly nervous Khargaad. You could hear him nervously chuckling as the two exchanged words.

Well, might as well go save him. You looked down at your work clothes covered in grass stains and mud. Hair was sticking to the back of your sweaty neck. Gross. Probably didn’t smell pretty either.

Your mother caught you out of the corner of her eye and pointed excitedly, “THERE SHE IS!”

You cringed. Gods she was making all this fuss and you looked like you just crawled out of a ditch.

“Hello! I see you met Ma.” You were trying to casually wipe the mix of dirt and sweat from your face, wading over to them through the field. He felt his heart skip a bit when you got closer. You smelled so earthy. And the musk of your sweat was… it could drive him feral.

He started imagining all the ways he could steal you away and worship you. Fill you. Taste you.

“Um… Khargaad?”

He jolted out of his sinful haze, “I couldn’t show up empty handed.” He thrust a basket into your arms. It was laden with fancy imported fruits. “This- This is too much. This must have cost-”

“Hush now,” his voice was like warm honey, “I hunt big game, I can afford it.” He had a cocky little smirk on his face. You thanked him, motioning to follow you into the cottage.

He looked back at your mom one more time, “It was so nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

-

Your first lessons together went just as well as predicted. By the end he was properly frustrated, arms crossed and everything.

“The letters. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s all… mixed up.”

“Let’s just end it here for today.”

He was so cute like this. All flustered. 

He stood up from his seat, being careful to crouch as he easily exceeded the height of the ceiling. “Alrighty, let’s get to work.” He crossed the room in one long stride, pulling his shirt over his head. He looked strong, but not in the way statues are with their lean bodies and taught chiseled muscles. He looked like a man who ate well and worked hard. Your eyes wandered to the slight love handles that peaked over the waistband of his trousers. Gods you were no better than a man, thinking about how bad you wanted to feel him in your hands.

He glanced behind his shoulder, “Where first?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Khargaad.”

“Do you think I’m going to just leave with all this work to be done?”

-

He followed you like an excited puppy to the tomato patch you had been working on. You had tried to tell him that he didn’t need to waste the rest of his day helping with this. But he knew he didn’t need to. He wanted to. And who was going to stop him? Certainly not you.

He started on one end, and you the other, working slowly until you met in the middle. By the end, your hands were red and scratched up from pulling the thistle weeds. Of course, Kharghaad’s were so calloused that it was like he had a pair of gloves on. He gave a little gasp when he saw your sore fingers. “Why didn’t you say anything…” He scooped your small hands into his, as delicate as you would pick up a fresh baby bird.

Every time he touched you it was like this great release. Your mother, as loving as she was, never quite developed a touchy-feely nature. You were so used to it fleeting as soon as it was there. Quick handshakes, brushing against someone in the market. You craved physical touch.

So when Khargaad didn’t let go of your hands. When he held them so carefully and tenderly. So deliberately. You found yourself trying to memorize every little second of the moment.

“I’ll have to buy you gloves.” He muttered, picking out the little needles with surprising dexterity. He took his canteen and went to rinse off the skin. “I can wash my own hands, Khargaad.” You chuckled.

“But I want to,” He blurted out with immediate embarrassment, “Sorry, I guess you could say it’s an orc thing? It’s sorta like… we’re very communal. There’s no reason to do much of anything alone, if you think about it…” He sort of trailed off like he was getting ahead of himself. He paused.

“I hope I'm not smothering you. Maybe humans aren’t like that-” He went to let go of your hands, and a part of you cried out inside. You were tired of trying to play this stoic lone wolf character. It wasn’t who you were. It’s not who any of us are. We all need each other.

“Please, don’t stop…” You whispered to him, thrusting your hands back into his. You uttered the magic words. The words he had been waiting for. He pulled you into his chest. It didn’t matter how gross, hot, and sweaty the two of you were. Or that your mother was most definitely watching joyfully from the kitchen window. Nothing mattered. “Can we go somewhere?” His voice was muffled as he whispered into the top of your head. He was taking long deep sighs, taking in your scent.

“Please…” The need in your voice was palpable. He didn’t waste another moment, leading you to the forest behind your property. “Khargaad… the road is that way.” You motioned behind yourself. “I know a quicker way.” He glanced back at you with that sweet little smirk on his face.

Once past the treeline, the soft light of dusk struggled to breach the overhead foliage. You walked together for some time, before the sound of running water bubbled ahead. He had led you to a little clearing, where in the middle stood a circular style tent. A creek babbled away off to the side. The moon was full and provided plenty of light for you to take it all in. “Do you live here?” 

He nodded, looking down at you expectantly for approval. You grinned, “It’s lovely.”

He snaked a strong arm around your waste, pulling you in. His other hand cupped the back of your head, tilting your face up to his. For a moment he hovered over you, as if waiting for your permission. You reached up to cup his face, thumbing over one of the tusks jutting out of his mouth.

His lips met yours. It started slow, like sipping on a glass of fine wine. Then it was hungry. Like you had both been starved. You were getting drunk off of the needy little grunts he was making, pulling you in flush with his body. You could feel him through his trousers, and it startled you out of your stupor a bit. You hadn’t been with anyone before, and it was bound to happen sooner or later, but this was a bit more than you ever imagined.

It was almost like he sensed your tension, pulling away to look into your eyes, “Let’s get clean.” He had brought his thumb up to caress over your cheek, planting a small peck before jogging to his tent. Watching him disappear under the flap, your mind raced. What if you weren’t ready? What if he’s not patient?

He bounded out towards the stream, beckoning you over. He started to frown as you got closer, like he could smell the apprehension coming off of you, “Do you need to go slower? Do you want to go home? Nothing has to happen. Nothing at all. You are in charge.”

He started unlacing the ties of his trousers. You instinctually looked away, giving him privacy he clearly didn’t need. With the sound of water sloshing you looked back at him submerged up to his sternum. You approached the water’s edge, looking down into the little bubbles churning in the current. “Hey… what’s wrong?” He waded over to the edge, leaning onto the grassy bank. There wasn’t any aire of seduction in his voice, just one of genuine tenderness.

You sucked it up and opened your mouth, “I’ve never done this before…”

“With an orc?”

“No like… I’ve never done this before… ever.” You winced as the words came out. You were a grown adult, this conversation shouldn’t feel embarrassing. But it did nonetheless.

“And so you don’t want to do this?” He didn’t seem fazed at all by the information. “No!” You yelped out a little too enthusiastically, “No- I mean, yes. Yes I do want to. I want you.”

You started to pull at the ties of your shirt, face so flushed it was probably glowing red. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You ripped the shirt off your head like pulling off a bandaid, exposing your chest to the warm summer air. You went to fiddle with the strings of your work pants. He still didn’t look away, and you didn’t ask him to.

And there you were, clothed only in moonlight. Khargaad thought, maybe the moon had come out just for you tonight, to see your beauty for itself.

You stepped down into the water. “Are you sure you’re human? Not a beautiful fairy playing tricks on me?” Khargaad was completely entranced by you, eyes roaming over the curve of your shoulders to the curves of your breasts.

You felt some of the tension ease, snorting at him “I don’t think a fairy would smell this bad.” He gasped a bit as if he had just remembered, grabbing a bar of soap he had retrieved from the tent. “May I?” He asked, lathering up the bar in his hands.

You nodded, letting him wade closer to you. You felt the palms of his massive hands begin to work themselves into your hair, massaging his fingers into your scalp. “Oh-” You exclaimed a rather embarrassing moan, but it felt so good. He finished and went to clean his own hair. “Hey, it’s my turn now!” You scolded him. He was more than happy to let you clean him. As he said previously, it’s a part of orc culture to do things with other people. That includes bathing.

And oh how he loved to see you doing orc things. Like wearing that yellow dress dyed with orc spices, and making those pickled eggs for him. It made him think about how great it would be to bring you home with him, to meet all of his family. For you to find a place in his tribe. He missed home a lot, and now you were a part of that picture. You finished running your fingers through the curls of his clean hair.

He heard the sloshing of water, turning around to see you drying yourself off. He joined you. You cast a quick glimpse below his waist, blushing furiously at his partially hard cock.

You walked together to the flap of the tent. The inside surprised you. It was so… cozy. “Ah-” He had leaned down to nuzzle into your neck, you loved the feeling of his tusks against your skin. He pulled you to what could best be described as a nest. A nest of pillows and blankets. He very carefully leaned you onto your back, “Is this okay?”

You giggled at him, “Yes Khargaad. I will tell you if I need to stop, okay?”

“Promise?” He leaned back on his knees, his olive green skin looking lovely in the warm glow of the lantern lighting the tent. His member was on full display, completely unashamed. The way it twitched in anticipation made your stomach flutter. “Yes.”

He lied down next to you, peppering little kisses in the crook of your neck. His hands began to roam your body, starting with your shoulders and slowly moving down to your tits. His calloused palm grazed over the sensitive peaks, causing you to let out a breathy sigh. He took your left breast into his hand, thumbing over your hardened nipple. He palmed your chest for a few moments more, like he was savoring each and every new part of you he explored. You felt his cock hard against your leg. You shifted your thigh, giving him just the lightest sensation of friction. The groan he mumbled into your skin made you feel hot between your legs. You clenched your thighs together, trying to get some relief.

His hand traveled down to your stomach, caressing the curves and grabbing a soft handful of skin. “Good…” He whispered. You shivered as his hand glided over your hips, so close to your entrance. He reached for the inside of your thigh, pulling it over into his cock. He let out another breathy sigh that left you completely slick with desire. His hand hovered over the mess of hair covering your mound. You opened your legs, giving him permission.

He started by slowly palming you, just beginning to give you the attention your pussy was desperate for. You felt a finger slip past your folds, getting drenched in the slickness. Khargaad shifted you up a bit so he could have better access to your chest. He dipped down, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucked playfully. “Oh f-fuck-” You were stuttering at the pleasure of it all. He grinned into your chest, “Keep making those noises sweetheart.” The pet name made your heart flutter.

He kept gently probing a finger up and down your slit, until he dipped one down just at the beginning of your entrance. His fingers were bigger than your own, but this wasn't so much of a stretch. He slowly sheathed the finger in you, “Tight.” He grunted. He made a come hither motion into that sensitive spot of your inner walls. You yelped out a completely sinful moan as he prodded you a few more times. His finger exited your hole, pulling the wetness of your cunt onto your swollen and sensitive clit.

“Khargaad-” Your hips bucked up into him as he swirled long languid circles around that little bundle of nerves. He pulled off, and sat back on his knees, “Can I taste you?”

It was the way he asked more than anything. Like he was close to begging for it. You nodded, spreading your legs for him. He settled down in front of you, using both of his thumbs to spread your lips apart. You felt the tip of his fat tongue probe your needy pussy. He reached up to play with your nipples, while he moved up to your throbbing clit. He started with light kitten-licks, making you whine and buck up into his mouth. That wonderful tongue of his made swirls and then quick flickering motions over the sensitive spot. At this point you were almost completely lost in pleasure, and reached down to thread your fingers through his soft brown curls. 

You were already sensitive when he started, so you were very close to finishing. You actually yelled when he inserted a finger into you. Prodding that sensitive spot while attacking your sensitive clit; it was making the most obscene wet noises. “Close.” That was all you could manage as he devoured you. There it was, feeling crushed over you like a ton of bricks. You coated this hand, legs spasming. He dipped down to lap up the remnants of your release. Your taste, your smell, the feeling of his hair clenched in your fist. He was addicted.

He leaned back, taking in his work. You had a hand on your forehead and a hand on your chest, calming down from what you just experienced. You glanced down at him, both hands on his thighs. His cock was completely erect, tip glistening with pre-cum. It was so heavy it bowed down under its own weight. “Y/n…” He was trying to figure out what to say next. His cock needed to be buried in your pretty little cunt. He needed to bottom out into you. He wanted to hear the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. But he couldn’t say that, though. He didn’t want to push you if you weren’t ready.

So when you propped yourself up on your elbows, legs spread for him, he almost felt like crying. His human mate was so strong. So ready for him.

He crawled over you, pinning your legs over his shoulders. He took the base of his cock into his fist, guiding it slowly over your folds. You were so warm for him. He pushed his pulsating tip past your lips, wincing from the sensitivity. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, but you were completely entranced watching his cock slide into you. His tip found your hole, sliding in but not going any further. He was absolutely strangeling the pillow he was resting his hand on, trying to maintain control. Khargaad was watching you, every little subtle expression. He kept sinking himself into you, stopping when you made the first wince of pain. He was big, and you were so tight. 

“Y/n?” You looked up at him through those pretty lashes. He nearly lost it all right there, just from the eye-contact. You got off of your elbows, leaning down completely. You gave a little nod, still making direct eye contact. Slowly and gently, he worked his way in until his hips were flush with yours. He leaned back, still buried in you, letting you adjust to the stretch.

He wouldn’t last long at all, seeing you like this. Your little face with knotted brows, arms thrown overhead. Khargaad brought his hand to your stomach, rubbing little circles into the soft skin with his thumb. You were perfect. Perfect to take his seed. Perfect for growing a little half-orc.

He wouldn’t yet, of course. Not until you were ready. For you, he would wait as long as needed. But his strange orc hormones and instincts craved it beyond explanation.

He began rocking out and back into you, keeping a slow languid pace. You reached out for him, and in an instant his head was nuzzled in your neck again. His pace started to ramp up a bit, earning little mewls from your lips. Oh he definitely wouldn't last much longer. “W-where…” His breath hitched in your ear. “Huh?” You were too flustered to try to understand what he was asking.

“Going to-” He was hissing and groaning, barely able to work out a sentence, “On your body- ah- or o-on the bed?” His motions were getting jerky. “Fuck- sorry- oh fuck.”

He pulled out just barely in time to empty himself onto your stomach. He fucked his rough fist through the climax, sighing at the sight of his seed coating your tummy. It felt a lot warmer than you expected, and much more… volume. He finally let go of his cock, reaching for a linen cloth and dunking it in a bowl of water he had set nearby. “I made a mess…”

He sounded so guilty, and you giggled at him teasingly. One of his hands cupped your face, while the other softly wiped the length of your cunt, messy from your own slickness. He wiped the cum that was coated across your stomach, being careful not to spill any on the bed.

“You did so good.” He started cooing sweet nothings to you while running his thumbs across your cheekbone, “Wore me out…” He chuckled, throwing the rag across the room. He yawned and stretched his arms above him.

“Do you want me to go home now?” You were all too familiar with the stories women told about men finishing and ordering them to leave. You didn’t quite have the confidence yet, to advocate for yourself. To tell him you wanted to spend the night wrapped up in his arms.

For Khargaad, this question felt like an arrow to the heart. Had he not done enough? To make it clear how badly he needed you with him? He laid down next to you, pulling you close, “I would kill the person who would try to take you from me right now.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here is Part 5 for you lovelies <3 <3 <3 btw Khargaad is living in a yurt, that's what I was trying to describe lol.

I attached a playlist I put together. These are the songs I've been listening to while writing this, if anyone wants to hear the vibes :3

Tagged List <3

@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123 @queenies1x1 @jellyslimesofficial @jasminedragoon @rangoismyname @the-queen-of-sorrows @the-dumber-scaramouche @heddaloddafun @swimmingrascalbatdragon @hellodollstuff @wingedghostpepper @pistachioinfernal @honeybaegle @sammehshark @dij-ology @forgemotherkestrel @wafflefries786

[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

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Daddy’s New Hair Style.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i actually really like harrys buzz cut era, it makes him look more macho in my opinion 🤷‍♀️

word count - 1.7k

in which, your fiancé returns home one afternoon, shocking both you and your son milo when he appears to be sporting a new hair cut, neither of you seemed to be prepared for.

In the cozy embrace of your London home, you find yourself nestled on the sofa, a soft blanket enveloping you and your precious two-year-old son, Milo.

The room is dimly lit, creating a tranquil ambiance as you cradle him in your arms.

Milo, having fallen asleep while breastfeeding, (his afternoon snack.) radiates an innocent calmness, his tiny breaths rhythmic and soothing.

The gentle hum of a TV show provides a subtle soundtrack to this tender moment. The muted glow from the screen casts a warm illumination on the living room, creating a serene atmosphere.

The characters on the show move through their scripted lives, but your attention is divided between the unfolding drama and the cherubic face of your slumbering child.

A cup of tea, steam curling upwards, rests precariously on the arm of the couch, a momentary escape forgotten in the bliss of maternal connection.

The aroma wafts through the air, adding another layer of comfort to the scene. The liquid within holds the promise of warmth and solace, a silent companion in the quietude of this shared repose.

His tousled hair (much like his fathers.) and cherubic features evoke a sense of wonder and fragility, a reminder of the preciousness of these fleeting moments.

The air is filled with a hushed lullaby, a fusion of Milo's delicate breaths, the ambient sounds of the TV, and the distant chirping of birds outside the window.

The subtle creak of the front door signals your fiancés arrival, and although your back is turned, you instantly recognize the familiar sound.

The atmosphere in the room shifts with anticipation as his footsteps echo through the entrance hall, a symphony of his return. The television's hushed murmur fades into the background, overshadowed by the promise of his presence.

"M’home!" Harry's voice, warm and resonant, fills the air with an infectious energy. Even before laying eyes on him, you can sense the genuine joy in his greeting, a sentiment that bridges the physical gap between you.

As he steps further into the living room, the scent of the outside world clings to him – a mixture of the crisp outdoors and the subtle musk of his cologne. It's a scent that has become synonymous with comfort and familiarity, a sensory reminder of the life you share.

The sound of his keys finding their place on the table, a routine symphony that accompanies his homecoming, adds to the rhythmic cadence of the moment. The soft thud of his jacket being hung up, a tactile cue that he is settling in, marks the transition from the outside world to the intimate haven you've created together.

The shuffle of his footsteps pauses briefly, creating a suspended moment where time seems to hold its breath. In the pregnant silence, you can almost hear the smile in his voice as he calls out again,

"Where's m’favorite people?" The endearment, spoken with a familiarity that comes from shared history, melts away any residual tension in the room.

As you turn to face Harry, a reflexive smile plays on your lips, ready to greet him after the day apart.

However, your expression freezes, and your eyes widen in surprise as they fall upon his head. The shock sets in when you realise that the familiar cascade of curls that once adorned his head has been replaced by a sleek buzz cut.

Your mouth hangs open in astonishment, a reaction born from the unexpected transformation.

Your gaze remains fixed on his shorn head, and a kaleidoscope of emotions dances in your eyes – surprise, confusion, and a touch of nostalgia for the familiar texture of his hair.

Harry, oblivious to your internal turmoil, wears a grin that carries a hint of mischief. His eyes twinkle with the satisfaction of a well-kept secret, and he revels in the delayed reaction playing out on your face.

The silence between you becomes palpable, echoing with the unspoken question of whether you'll recover from the unexpected twist.

Harry settles onto the sofa beside you, a tender smile gracing his face as he observes his slumbering son cradled in your arms. The rhythmic motion of his hand, gently rubbing up and down the little one's back, is a silent lullaby that adds to the serenity of the moment.

The room is hushed, filled only with the soft sounds of your child's breathing and the muffled ambiance from the TV in the background.

As you glance at Harry, your eyes inadvertently catch a glimpse of his newly shorn hair. The sight triggers a wave of emotions within you, and the words that could express your thoughts seem to elude you. Uncertain of how to navigate this uncharted territory, a lump forms in your throat, and an overwhelming surge of emotion finds release through tears.

"M’love, s’wrong?" he inquires gently, his voice a soothing balm.

You glance up at him, your shoulders shrugging in a gesture of uncertainty.

"I just... I miss your curls," you admit, your voice catching slightly as you try to articulate the complex mix of emotions swirling within.

A sympathetic understanding softens Harry's eyes as he takes in your words.

"M’didn't think it would hit y’this hard. S’just hair," he says with a wistful smile, attempting to downplay the significance of the change.

You nod, a half-hearted smile forming on your lips.

"I know, it's just... it's going to take some getting used to," you confess, the vulnerability of the moment hanging in the air.

Without another word, Harry wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting embrace. His touch is a silent reassurance that transcends words.

"Change can be a bit overwhelming, huh?" he muses, his lips brushing against the top of your head in a gentle kiss.

You nod again, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace.

"Yeah, it's just that your curls were... a part of you. It's like I need to recalibrate my mental image," you explain, your words a hesitant attempt to convey the intricacies of your feelings.

Harry chuckles softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"Fair enough. M’guess I should ‘ave warned y’about t’big reveal," he admits, a playful glint in his eyes.

A light chuckle escapes your lips, and you nuzzle into his shoulder.

"Maybe just a heads-up next time," you suggest, the tension dissipating as humour finds its way into the conversation.

He nods, his hand now gently playing with your hair.

"Got it. And hey, it's still me, curls or no curls," he reassures, his voice a comforting anchor in the midst of change.

Milo, roused by the comforting familiarity of his father's voice, stirs on your lap. His sleepy eyes flutter open, and with a drowsy curiosity, he turns his gaze towards the source of that familiar sound.

Upon seeing Harry, a small, delighted smile graces Milo's face. The connection between father and son transcends words, and with newfound energy, the two-year-old wriggles on your lap. With determination that only a toddler possesses, he begins to crawl off your lap towards his father.

"Ey’ there, little champ," Harry greets, his voice a melodic blend of warmth and affection. He extends his arms, ready to receive Milo into his embrace. The room is now filled with the joyous energy of a family reuniting.

As Milo reaches Harry's waiting arms, the father-son reunion is marked by laughter and the soft patter of little feet against the living room floor.

Harry scoops Milo up, lifting him into the air with playful ease. The room is filled with the infectious laughter of a child delighted by the simple joy of being in his father's arms.

With a gleeful determination, he lifts his small hands, fingers outstretched, ready to engage in his usual ritual of playing with the curls at the back of his father's neck.

However, as his tiny fingers reach the intended destination, there's an unexpected void. Confusion clouds Milo's face, and a puzzled expression replaces the usual delight.

His fingers flitter through the air, searching for the familiar texture that has always greeted him during these tender moments.

When realisation strikes, a small whine escapes Milo's lips, a sound that echoes both disappointment and surprise. The absence of the once-present curls disrupts his routine, and with a spontaneous burst of emotion, he throws his head back, as if in protest against this unforeseen change.

Harry, caught off guard by Milo's reaction, looks down at his son with a mix of amusement and understanding.

He chuckles softly, his hands adjusting to accommodate Milo's newfound exploration.

"No more curls, buddy. Daddy's got a new look," he explains, trying to soothe Milo's evident dismay.

Yet, Milo remains unconvinced, his little face contorted in a blend of confusion and protest. His fingers continue to explore the unfamiliar terrain, perhaps hoping that the missing curls will magically reappear. The room is filled with the comical symphony of a toddler expressing discontent with the capricious nature of change.

His little face scrunches up in contemplation, and then, with the sincerity only a child can muster, he begins to babble excitedly about his own hair.

"Daddy, hair go bye-bye!" Milo exclaims, his words a delightful blend of toddler language and exuberance.

His tiny fingers point to his head, emphasising the absence of what was once there.

Harry, caught off guard by Milo's animated commentary on his own hair, joins in the toddler's excitement.

"S’right, buddy! Daddy got a new haircut. No more curls," he explains, his laughter mirroring the infectious joy radiating from Milo.

As Milo continues his animated monologue, his eyes shift towards you, seeking acknowledgment and perhaps wanting to share his newfound discovery.

With an enthusiastic gesture, he points at his head again and then looks at you as if to say, "See, Mommy?"

You respond with a warm smile, playing along with the adorable sincerity of the moment.

"Daddy looks great, doesn't he?" you chime in, your words laced with affection.

Just as you said those words, a thought immediately popped into your head and you snapped your gaze so it was locked onto your lovers.

“H?”

He hummed from where he was playing with his sons dummy, playfully taking it in and out of his little ones mouth making him laugh hysterically.

When he looked at you for a brief second, you eyebrows were raised.

“Your curls better be back before the wedding.”

[twignotstick]

Flowers for Venus

She's here~ 🩵

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I really made a lot of assumptions here, so this must be emphasized.

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Venus de Milo (TMNT), NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, experimentation, mental issues, perspective shifting, intentionally written to be confusing or leave out information at times, they are all family your honor

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): childhood trauma, abandonment issues, physical violence, repeated mentions of medical(?) procedures

Words: 6,472 🪦

Summary: Venus had one person in her life, and that was what mattered. Until she didn't.

----------------------

“I'm going to fix your body.”

The young turtle gazed up into the glass chamber before him, observing the mangled, underdeveloped, and weak body within. The vitals displayed around it were at acceptable levels; nowhere near as good as needed to survive out of the chamber, but acceptable considering the circumstances.

Not acceptable to the young turtle in front of it.

“You should be out here, learning with me. Being my sister. So I'm going to fix you.”

The turtle within the chamber did not stir- only breathed, as blood was forcefully pumped through its nonfunctional veins.

----------------------

“Huginn and Muninn helped me find more books to help you!”

Three- he had realized that the body in the chamber may not yet know his name, and so he introduced himself not long ago- bounced on the balls of his feet. He had one book clutched close to his chest, with others strewn about the workspace he had made around the chamber.

“Yokai biologists have very interesting methods! I plan on attempting some of them soon- Pops said he is going to get me some more materials before I try. He said that Witch Town will probably have what I need. The fusion of biology and mysticism is incredible! Oh! Oh! And!”

He dropped the book that he was holding on the floor carelessly, tripping over his own feet as he ran over to a table to show the body's closed eyes another. This one was thicker.

“Muninn says that this one was written by a human! ‘Mary Shelley’. It's called ‘Frankenstein’. I believe that's a name too- the surname of the main character. I haven't read it yet, because I haven't had time to. However, maybe with your improved cognitive function as of recently, it could be beneficial for me to read it to you!”

Three got no response, but he could have sworn that a part of the body's brain scan spiked.

“I can't start now. I have to finish my work on the developmental errors in your lower arm, but as soon as I finish that and find what I need to find, I'll start! I'm really curious about human literature.”

Three got to work, as the mind within the chamber grew curious.

----------------------

She didn't quite know what time it was, but she knew what was supposed to happen at this time. The voice was supposed to make noises in the room- Three, that was his name- and he was supposed to talk to her. Her? She thought that sounded right.

Three had told her about pronouns. He had said that since she was biologically female, it was assumed that she would go by she and her. Just like he was male, and went by he and him.

He had said that her name was Five.

Even so, Three liked calling her Vee, justifying it with the reason that they “matched”. Five didn't quite understand where the name came from; perhaps how her name was spelled? F-I-V-E, that was what Three had told her. T-H-R-E-E, that was his. But he spelled Vee as V-E-E. Maybe that's why they matched. Both had two E's in their name.

Their names were numbers too. One, two, three, four, five. She wondered why she was Five, and he was Three. Where were One, Two, and Four? Were they there, but she couldn't hear them? Was Pops another name for One? Pops and One weren't anything alike. She wished she could ask all the questions she had in her mind.

She wished she could see. Maybe that would explain why Three hadn't spoken yet.

Just when she was starting to believe that he may not speak to her this time, Three made noise. She couldn't see, but he stumbled through the door and sat down in a chair near her with a smile on his face. He looked at her, she could feel it.

“I'm sorry I'm home late, Vee. I met a new friend today! But don't tell Pops. He's a human.”

Five knew that word. Weren't those bad?

“Timothy isn't like other humans, though. He's nice! He showed me some insects and told me their names. Surface bugs are very different from normal ones! I think I might ask Huginn and Muninn to retrieve me some books on surface entomology. I can tell them that it's biological research.”

Entomology. That's a big word. What does that mean?

“Entomology means the study of insects, by the way. It's a very interesting branch of science. Timothy said he has books that tell him the names of different insects at his house. Oh, and a house is where humans usually live. Not a lab, like we live in. Or… a glass chamber, like you live in! Though, technically your chamber is within the lab.”

The lab. She wondered what the lab looked like.

“I think that I may be able to replace your eyes soon. I've been developing a prototype, hopefully it shouldn't take me too long to finish! From there, I just have to work really hard to get your other physical errors fixed, and then you can come out here! Maybe I can even bring you to meet Timothy!”

Timothy. That was a nice name. Not as good as Three or Vee, though. They matched. Though, maybe Timothy matched too. She didn't know how to spell Timothy yet.

Maybe they could match anyway.

----------------------

Three stumbled in today. Vee couldn't see it, of course, but Three had tripped, holding in tears. His chest just wouldn't stop hurting. Pops had said he could walk it off, so that is what he tried to do.

He couldn't walk much longer, falling to the floor in front of Vee's chamber. She enjoyed hearing the sound of his breathing, but she never liked it when he breathed this heavily. That meant he was hurt and crying. That meant Pops had done an experiment or a test. That meant Three didn't have the power to work on her body. He would always apologize for that. Of course, that never stopped him. She always heard him working.

“...V-Vee…”

That is her name. He loves to remind her of that.

“M-maybe…” Three gasped deeply, holding the breath for longer than he should before slowly releasing it. “Maybe if… I finish you… he w-won't do this to m-me anymo-ore…”

Vee couldn't feel his eyes on her. Until she could.

“I've shown him y-your guts alr-ready, though… maybe he won't won't w-want to v-vi…vivi…”

That's not how he's supposed to say her name. It's Vee.

“...Vee? Vee~”

That's right.

“Veeveeveevee…”

Is that right?

The mumbling of her name faded away, turning into slow rasping breaths.

She didn't want him to be hurt and crying anymore.

----------------------

“I want to make you as strong as One is. Or, at least, he should be. I haven't met One. Or Two. Or Four. But Pops says that it's impossible for you to be that strong. You're a box turtle, designed for defense. Anyhow, it's more important that I develop your muscle mass enough for you to stand independently first.”

Vee wondered what One, Two, and Four sounded like. Maybe their voices were jumpy and squeaky like Three's was now. Maybe they were sweet, like his was before. She wondered what Pops sounded like.

“Four is a box turtle like you. He developed properly, but don't feel bad! He got stolen away, so really, he got the short end of the stick! You're living the life of luxury.”

So many types of turtle. Did that mean they couldn't match anymore?

“I showed Timothy some sketches of my work with you. He got this really weird look on his face, and I thought he might not believe that I could fix you. But, he promised that he did believe in me! And he said he can't wait to meet you!”

Surely, he was just jealous of Three's hard work.

“I'm still working on your eyes. They're causing me more problems than I thought they would, but I think I'm getting closer to a functional product! It's just taking a while to find a good base that can survive the transfer.”

Eyes. One more sense. He taught her the five: touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing. She had hearing- or at least, she believed she did. She didn't know what else this could be. To have two senses would be marvelous.

Three's voice went away, leaving a rubbing sound. He had told her what that was. It meant he was “rubbing his hands together”. It was a “nervous habit”.

“Pops told me… he told me that talking to you was ‘fueling my delusion’. I know that, logically, you're comatose. Your body isn't supposed to work right now, for the sake of your life.”

That made sense. She was hurt. Three said that if she came out of her coma as she was now, she would die. Dying wasn't a good thing.

“But I really want you to hear me. Even subconsciously. So- so that way, when you do wake up, we'll already be friends! A-and you'll already know so much about me, so I just need to know about you!”

That sounded nice. Vee wanted to tell him about herself. Maybe she'd know just what that meant by the time she got the chance.

“I promise I'm going to fix you soon. It'll be no problem!”

Vee liked that.

----------------------

Three was hurt and crying again. But this time, he didn't come to collapse by her chamber. He was far away, in the workspace. Vee didn't want him to be hurt and crying anymore. Three had said that hurt could mean dying. Three couldn't die yet. Vee still had to tell him everything about herself.

He wasn't even saying her name this time. He was saying the human's. He was hard to hear, so quiet, so far.

Timothy.

I'm sorry, Timothy.

What does that mean?

I'm so, so sorry.

What does that mean, Three?

Please, Tim.

Three?

Please forgive me.

I'm sorry.

I'm so, so sorry.

Three?

Three, please. She wants to understand. She wants to know you.

I want to know you. Talk to me, please. Tell me everything. Tell me about Mary Shelley. Tell me about entomology. Tell me about One. Tell me about Two. Tell me about Four. Tell me about Pops. Tell me what you're working on. Tell me how you want me to be better already so I can hold your hand and talk back. Let me hold your hand.

Tell me what's wrong.

“---ee? Vee, I'm ---y, I'm here, plea--- calm down. I'm here, please. Do I need- do I need to sedate her? I-”

He's not crying anymore. He's talking to her.

“Vee? Five?”

That's right.

“Should I read to you? W-Would you like that?”

She would.

“P-progress report 13. May 23rd. It happened today. Algernon bit me.”

Flowers for Algernon. Surface literature. Of course he would read surface literature now. He was just thinking of Timothy.

Every time Three would read this specific story to her, he would explain that the first few progress reports were intentionally written with poor spelling and grammar. He would spend the whole time explaining the correct way to write the sentences, up until the writing became legible. Then, when the writing returned to its sorry state, he would resume his corrections.

“I visited the lab to see him as I do occasionally, and when I took him out of his cage, he snapped at my hand.”

Vee knew the end of this story.

“I put him back and watched him for a while. He was unusually disturbed and vicious.”

It never ended nicely. They always had to die.

“May 24th. Burt, who is in charge of the experimental animals, tells me that Algernon is changing.”

She didn't want anyone else to die.

----------------------

Something was different. Where once there was a lack of anything, now there was something. Something Vee didn't have the knowledge to understand just yet. She couldn't understand light. She couldn't understand color. Now, it was right in front of her.

A blur of a color she didn't know the name of, green, with a dash of another, purple. Three's voice came from it.

“Eyelids are open. Should be working. Just one last test-”

Three grabbed a small blur- a silver flashlight- and shined it into her eyes. Her muscles instinctively tried to close her eyelids, but there just wasn't enough power behind it. They stayed open enough for Three to see the pupils constrict.

“Yes. Yes! YES! They work! Yes!”

Three sounded happy. That was good. Maybe he looked happy, too. Vee didn't know what happy looked like yet.

“...I have to show Pops. I have to show Pops! Wait! Stay right there!”

Three left the room, and Vee thought deeply. “They work”. Three had said that her eyes “didn't work yet” before. So that must mean that they work now. That meant that she was seeing. This was what she had been looking forward to ever since Three had attempted to explain the abstract concept of seeing.

This was it.

Those colors. The nameless ones that she didn't know- the ones she didn't even know how to identify as colors- that was Three. That was the face of the voice who had been her only comfort for all of time. That was the face of the person she wanted to comfort. The voice that she heard crying and hurting. The person she wanted to hold the hand of.

The door to the room opened again, and Three returned with a taller figure. Vee had never heard him before, she was sure of that when he got close for her to hear his breathing. Maybe she could have seen him before. He was tall, and covered with new colors. She couldn't name them, but they were gold, blue, and magenta.

“Look! Look! Her eyes are functional now! They constrict and dilate! Watch!”

Three held the light to her eyes once more, and her pupils shrank again.

The new voice only grunted.

“She's so close to completion now! Th-there are only a few more developmental errors, and she just needs a little more muscle mass-”

The tall figure lashed out at Three, as another color, magenta and pink, writhing, latched around Three's throat. He was held off the floor, just a few feet. His happy breathing stopped.

“You have obsessed over this project for too long. Your progress has been agonizingly slow, and this is what you have to show for it?”

A new voice. Deeper. More menacing.

Pops.

Three gasped for air, trying to respond.

“I suppose I must also involve myself. Your inefficiency up to this point will not be forgotten.”

The writhing mass slammed Three into the floor as the tall figure walked away, shutting the door behind himself.

Three heaved shaky breaths from his spot in front of Vee's chamber. He almost sounded like he was crying and hurting.

Was this what crying and hurting looked like? Curling over yourself? Was that what she was doing? She was supposed to be hurting. She didn't think she was crying, though. Could you hurt and not cry?

Could you cry and not hurt?

Three moved onto his knees, placing one hand on the glass. His face looked different, as if the light reflected off of it differently. His eyes looked at her. For the first time, she could feel and see it.

“I'm going to get you out soon. Then… then you can be here with me. And Pops will be proud. And I'll have you, my sister. Forever, and ever, and ever. And no one will take you from me.”

Three smiled, leaning against the glass and falling asleep.

That sounded nice.

-----------🕷️-----------

“What is this?”

Vee stood over Three at his workbench, looking down at the sketch he was working on. It looked familiar, like other ones he had made, but the notes around the margins were different.

“Oh, it's another collar for Big Mama. She has someone joining the Nexus who has some immunity to electricity, so I have to work on an alternative design…”

“How does it work?”

Three looked up at Vee as she smiled softly. She loved doing this. Getting him talking about the things he knew about.

“Okay, well, since the regular electric shock won't result in what we're going for, I have to find another method of keeping the fighter in line. So- so this collar is designed to tap straight into the nerves in the neck- focusing mainly on the more secondary nerves, but also creating a pathway to the spinal column if needed. With this, the nerves can be pinched all at once, effectively paralyzing the wearer!”

Vee looked over the sketch, resting a hand on the desk next to it. “And why is this collar shaped so differently?”

Three brightened again. “Oh, well, for one, to create a visual distinction that makes it easier for Big Mama to know what type of collar it is. But also, because the specific yokai has… no neck? Sort of? They have shoulders, but it would be somewhat easy for them to slip a standard collar off. So, alternative design! And this one can be green.”

“Very good. I'm sure Mother would appreciate the change in aesthetic.”

The stone in her pocket began to glow.

“Speak of the Devil, I suppose.”

Five slipped her mask on quickly, then answered the call. “Hello, Mother.”

“Turtley-boo! Hello! Where are you, my dear? I couldn't find you!”

“I had to deliver this week's recording to Three. I'll be returning home shortly.”

“I would hope so! Everything here is always such a tissy-tassle when you're over at that terrible place. Oh, do come home quickly, please. Your mama is getting lonely.”

Vee looked to Three, and they exchanged a soft look, even behind Vee's emotionless mask. “I'll be there in a moment, Mother.”

----------------------

This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

She was supposed to be worried about being taken from him.

What could she do, now that he was taken from her?

Four was gone. Then Two was gone. Vee thought, surely Three wouldn't be that dumb. Three was smart. He cared about her. He wouldn't leave her.

So where was he now? On the surface, living with rats and humans.

And she was left behind. Stuck under the thumb of a spider that claimed to be her mother. Forced to witness the violent aftermath that had come when Three disappeared, as Lord Draxum berated her and her mother for letting Three get such delusional thoughts in his head. Ideas that made him weak and stupid. Hopes that his family cared for him. 

But he left his family, didn't he?

She was supposed to be his sister.

And he left, in search of a family that didn't even know his name. His face. His voice. That voice was supposed to be hers. The one who took care of her. The one that fixed her.

Draxum may have caused her birth, but Three gave her life.

Didn't that matter to him?

She had been so scared of being taken from him, Vee didn't even consider the idea that he may be taken from her.

Fighting against him was something from her worst nightmares.

This couldn't be happening.

This was all wrong.

----------------------

Empty apologies.

He left, all because of a stupid dream he had been chasing. He left the family he had because of some dumb idea of a family that he had romanticized in his head. He left her.

Maybe he never cared about her anyway. She was just a toy to pass the time.

She wasn't real, anyway. Just a monstrous body given life.

----------------------

“Hi, Vee!”

Four approached her, sitting down cross legged on the floor beside her. He examined the blade she had been sharpening with an odd fascination.

“Where'd you get that?” He asked innocently.

“From Mother.”

Four straightened. “O-oh. Guess I shoulda… guessed that, huh?”

“Maybe.” Of course he should have. Who wouldn't recognize one of Big Mama's weapons?

“Hmm…” Four rocked back and forth, holding his feet. “Do you feel alright with me calling you Vee? I know that's what Donnie calls you, but I know he has like… a thing with names.”

“I’m Five,” she said bluntly, looking up at Four for a moment. “But I don't mind being called Vee.”

“Cool!” Four smiled, almost as sweetly as she remembered Three doing. “What's it short for?”

Vee paused and looked back up at Four. “Sorry?”

Four blinked. “...Vee. What's it short for?”

She squinted. “It stands for the roman numeral for Five. It isn't ‘short’ for anything.”

“Oh. Well, that's not right.” Four shook his head disapprovingly. “You need to match with us!”

That made Vee think. “Match?”

“Yeah!” Four shifted to sit on his knees. “See, cause I'm called Mikey. That's short for Michelangelo. He was a human artist in the Renaissance. And Raph is Raph, short for Raphael. And Leo is Leo, short for Leonardo. And Donnie is Donnie, short for Donatello!”

Vee put her blade down on the ground, giving Mikey all of her attention. “So they match because they're all artists?”

“Well, and since they're from the Renaissance, and since we've all got nicknames!” Mikey grinned. “Do you… want a name that matches with ours?”

“Yes.” Vee answered before she could really think about what she was saying. “I-I mean, I don't really need one, but-”

“Sweet!” Mikey patted his hands on the ground. “Now, what names could work… Genevieve? No, that would be Jenny… Vivian? Nah, that's not good enough. Oh!”

“What?”

“Well, I know all of our names are from artists, but, uh, what if your name was from a piece of art?”

Vee thought for a moment. It was certainly true that she wasn't like the other turtles. Obviously, her name would have to reflect that.

Though, maybe being a work of art wouldn't be so bad.

“Sure. But tell me the name before I agree to anything.”

Mikey's expression suddenly shifted to a more serious one. “Of course. How about… Venus de Milo?”

Venus de Milo.

“...what is it?”

“It's a statue from ancient Greece. She sorta got her arms ripped off, but she's still incredibly beautiful and detailed, and a very widely known masterpiece! Wait, lemme see if I've got internet-”

Mikey fumbled with his phone, desperately trying to gather some internet signal in the depths of the Hidden City. Meanwhile, Vee simmered in the thought. A statue, broken, never to be truly as it was before. And yet, it was beautiful, not just because of what it still had, but because it had lost. It had persevered. Because something so beautiful was never truly perfect. That was what allowed it to be beautiful instead.

Maybe that beauty made it perfect, anyway.

“I like it.”

Mikey's eyes flitted up from his hunch over his phone. “Oh? Great!” He corrected his posture. “How ‘bout you try it out? Introduce yourself to me!”

Vee cleared her throat, checking her own posture out of habit. “Hello, Michelangelo. My name is Venus de Milo. You may call me Vee.” She extended her hand for a handshake. Mikey met it vehemently.

“Perfect! Now, you match with all of us! Man, the teamwork and collaboration on this mission is gonna be on point!”

Venus smiled, turning the interaction around in her head.

Maybe she could be a masterpiece.

----------------------

Donnie loved to talk. Vee always knew that. But, for too long, she had never noticed how much he loved to be listened to; to have another directly engaging in the conversation. Once she learned that, she learned that she had a love for listening.

It was sometimes hard for her to understand her own wants without comparing them to the wants of others. She loved to listen because Donnie loved to talk. She loved to spar because that made Raph happy. She loved to ask questions so Leo could explain the nonsensical movies he showed her. She loved to eat because Mikey loved to cook.

But right now, none of that really mattered. Donnie was talking, and Vee loved to listen.

“Splinter told me that I could make him, as long as I make sure he doesn't turn, like, evil or anything. Though, honestly, if a robot uprising were to happen, I think it would be smart to just accept fate.”

Donnie was cleaning up some sort of schematic on a bean bag as a movie played on the TV. Vee sat next to him, not paying attention to the film at all. Screams about hot food went in one ear and out the other.

“So these are the plans you have so far?”

“Exactly!” Donnie brightened, then slumped as he came to a realization. “He's actually based on a design I made before you got out of your chamber. P-... Draxum destroyed that one, though.”

“Oh.” Vee slumped a bit as well. “I wish I could have seen it. Maybe I'd be more helpful now with these designs.”

“Uh, y-you don't have to worry about it!” Donnie waved his arms frantically. “It was my fault you were stuck in there anyway.”

“No it wasn't.” Vee looked at him blankly. “It was Lord Draxum's fault. He made me faulty. You helped me. You fixed my body.”

Donnie flustered, scratching at his neck. “W-well, not really. I didn't even-”

“You gave me my eyes. You gave me purpose.”

He looked at his sister, hands shaking almost invisibly where they gripped his sketching paper. Something strange came to his eyes- a shimmer, one that she knew. “I-I'm-”

“If you say you're sorry one more time, I might just rip your tongue out.”

“But I am! In more words than I can say, I am! You cared about me so much, and I just left you without a second thought. No apology I can give can ever make up for that.”

Vee sighed, shaking her head, looking at Donnie with tired eyes. “You're right.”

Donnie's nervous energy evaporated and he stilled.

“No apology will ever be enough. When you apologized to me, I didn't forgive you. When you apologized to me, I hated you.”

Venus paused, questioning whether or not she should continue. When Donnie gave no reaction, she decided to.

“When you tried to explain what had happened, I hated you. When you asked for my help, invited me in, told me you wanted me back, I hated you.”

Genuine tears started to well up in custom built eyes.

“B-because… because I couldn't believe you. You left me, and that was what was real. That was what mattered.”

Donnie took a breath in, as if to add something, but ultimately decided against it.

“Part of me still doesn't believe you.”

Months of worrying. Months of waiting. Months of simmering in hatred for the one person she had convinced herself she could trust. Months of wondering, “Would he have stayed if I had been better?” Months of unbridled rage towards her creator, who couldn't have waited just a little longer to make her right. Months thinking of her other so called “brothers” who stole her brother away.

He said no one could take her from him. So why would he throw her away?

“But you showed me otherwise.”

She never knew how to put these things into words. There was something difficult about bringing her thoughts out in that way. Because of this, she could never really tell Donnie how it felt when he first showed her that room he had prepared, which he left mostly empty for her to decorate herself. She could never explain how it felt when Splinter traced her stitches, complimenting how wonderfully they framed her features. She could never properly thank Raph for expressing his admiration for her fighting style. She couldn't express the joy she felt when she saw Leo do something that would make him feel embarrassed hours later. She could never say anything more than “It’s great” when eating one of Mikey's meals, one that should make a food critic cry.

“So you don't need to apologize anymore. You showed me how you cared, and that's all that matters now.”

Vee grabbed Donnie's hand, and the two shared a wordless understanding.

You can cry and not hurt.

----------------------

Vee woke up to the sound of someone else moving around the lair.  All of her brothers were still covered in blankets around her, and a blank tarp hung on the wall stood in front of her that she vaguely remembered watching a projected video essay on before she fell into slumber. There was only one person missing from the scene…

As she pushed herself to her feet and walked into the hall, Vee came face to face with a still bonnet wearing April.

“Oh, morning, Vee!” April greeted energetically. “What're you doing up already?”

“This is a normal time to wake up, isn't it? You're awake.”

April hummed. “I guess you're right. I'm just used to the guys sleeping in super late. You hungry?”

Vee nodded, following April silently into the kitchen. Just a short time ago, she would have wanted to cut April's head off, purely because of her human existence. Now, she felt a strange, foreign comfort around the human. Not quite like she felt with her brother, or her other brothers, but something akin to it.

April started loading up the toaster, grabbing some spreads and setting them out on the counter.

“Got any plans today, Miss Milo?”

Vee chuckled. “It's Miss de Milo, and, uh, no. You got any plans, Miss Neil?”

April laughed in turn. “Actually, I do. And since you don't have any, I was hoping you might help me out with mine.”

Vee nodded, letting her continue.

“I brought some stuff from my place to do a spa day, slash makeover day. Figured you might want to join in.”

Vee thought for a moment. “I know what a spa day is, but what is a ‘makeover’?”

“Well, it's like,” she hesitated, “it's when you put on a ton of makeup and wear fancy clothes and stuff. Not because you're not pretty, but it's just… it's a way of making yourself feel good, y'know? You've worn makeup before, right?”

“No.” Vee shrank slightly. “Mother said that it would be a lost cause. That's why she gave me the mask instead.”

“Oh.” April shook her head, scrunching her nose. “Oh, no, no. That's not gonna work. You are going to be pampered, Miss de Milo. That is an order.”

April strode out of the kitchen, and Vee followed slowly behind. Before she could see where April had gone, there was the telltale sound of a pillow being thrown into someone's face.

“Owf- wha- hey! What was that for?” Leo grumbled through the grogginess of waking up.

“We've got a busy day ahead, boys! Gotta eat breakfast so we can get to work!”

“Busy day?” Mikey asked, slightly more cognizant than Leo. “What are we doing?”

“Makeovers. All of us!”

Vee finally caught sight of April in the hallway of the living room as she saw Donnie jumping up from where he was laying. “Are we gonna do nails?!” He shouted excitedly, running up in front of April. “Can I pick the colors?”

“Of course you can, bud. Just go eat some toast first,” April responded, patting his shoulder.

Donnie hurried to the kitchen followed by his brothers, who were all still wiping the sleep from their eyes. After that, breakfast went quickly.

Raph drug a stool into the bathroom in front of the mirror, where Vee was instructed to sit. Soon, she was surrounded by her brothers and April, with a large makeup bag in the human's hands. She put the bag down on the counter, taking out a liquid foundation in the perfect hue for Vee's skin.

“Where do you even find this stuff? Party City?” Leo asked, taking out another foundation from the bag that matched his own skin.

“No,” April scoffed, preparing her workspace, “I get it online. Its makeup, not face paint. It just happens to be green. Are you complaining?”

“No, ma'am.” Leo quickly shut himself up.

“Good. Now, let's get some jobs set straight.” April started gesturing to the brothers one by one. “Donnie, you're in charge of picking colors out, and themes. Mike, you're executing Donnie's ideas, because his hands are way too shaky. Raph, my bag's in the other room, go pick something out. You'll know what I mean when you get there. And Leo, you're in charge of music and talking. Tea spilling, gossip, whatever.”

All of the turtles nodded in response, and Raph walked out to find April's bag.

“Now, Vee.” April put her hands on Vee's shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “You just sit here, close your eyes, and relax. We've got it all handled.”

“Okay.” Vee hesitated, closing her eyes slowly, before shooting them open again. “Wait!”

April hummed, hovering the makeup sponge she had prepared in the air.

“Can you, uh… can you leave my stitches? Not cover them up, I mean.” She couldn't help casting a glance at Donnie, who gave a timid smile.

April relaxed. “Course, Vee. Now, close your eyes and let us work our magic!”

Vee complied, and she found herself surrounded by sounds. A strange nostalgia filled her chest.

“What we thinking, D?”

“How about, uh… this?”

“Ooo! Perfect! Can I get, uh… that one first?... Thanks! Okay Vee, I'm gonna grab your hand now. It's gonna be cold!”

“What am I supposed to even talk about? I don't have any tea.”

No need for sight. Hearing those voices, comforting her. With a slight drone of music alongside.

“How about your date with Usagi?”

“Wh- April! It wasn't a date!”

“Hey! No shoving! This is a delicate art, Leo!”

“Ugh, fine.” Another shove.

“Hey! No shoving me either! I didn't even say anything!”

“Yeah, but April's busy, Mikey's busy, and you gave me a weird look.”

“I gave you a normal look. You obviously went on a date. Vee, you know?”

Vee laughed just a bit, trying not to move and disturb April's work. “Donnie's right. It was pretty clearly a date.”

“No, it wasn't!”

“Just tell us what you did, Leo.”

Unlike before, she had other senses. But somehow, removing this one made her feel comfortable. Knowing that someone else was taking care of her felt so good.

When she felt Donnie's scar covered, calloused hand grab onto hers, the comfort felt warmer.

“We didn't even-”

“Hey, April? How's this one?”

“I think it's great, but how ‘bout you ask Mister Manicure?”

“Oh. Mike?”

“That's perfect, Raph! You got any accessories?”

“Maybe in my room… lemme go check.”

The sound of heavy footfalls walking away.

“Alright, I'm gonna be working on your eyelids, so it's gonna feel a little weird. Just try to stay loose.”

“Ooo, you are gonna look so good!”

Vee allowed the sound to envelop her entirely.

“Listen, we didn't go on a date, we aren't even a thing anyways.”

“I'm going to fix your body.”

“Usagi would be very hurt it he heard that. You wanna tell him, D?”

“You should be out here, learning with me.”

“I can text him right away-”

“NO!”

“Being my sister.”

“Just admit it, Leo! You're down bad for the bunny!”

“He still hasn't admitted that?”

“No, Raph! Because I'm not ‘down bad’!”

“So I'm going to fix you.”

“Okay, keep the volume down. I gotta concentrate…”

Time passed shapelessly. Vee interacted in the conversation when asked, but otherwise, she let the noise flow over herself. Before she knew it, she was being told to stand up and having fabric pulled onto her arms, with a ribbon being tied over her shell.

“Okay, okay, just a few more touches-”

“You've been doing ‘a few more touches’ for five minutes, Donnie. She looks great!”

“SHH! Don't rush perfection, Nardo.”

Vee blushed. “You really think I look perfect?”

She felt Donnie's eyes on her. “You always have.”

Mikey awed. “Okay, okay, okay, now you can look!”

Vee opened her eyes, just as Donnie moved to the side so she could see herself in the mirror. She saw that the fabric put on her was a dress, very light blue and with flowery embroidery patterning on the bottom of the knee-length skirt. Her claws were painted with pastel colors, with a light blue backdrop behind white daisies, each having an undertone of a different color: reddish-pink, blue, orange, purple, yellow, and green. On her face, a soft blue eyeshadow was put on her eyelids, with small painted daisies incorporated into her eyeliner. Similar flowery bows were placed down the length of her braided mask tails. Donnie quickly shuffled behind her to put a necklace on her neck, with a daisy shaped pendant.

Vee found herself speechless, staring at the stranger that had been pulled out of her own skin.

“Is it alright?” April asked hesitantly.

As she rubbed her lips together, Vee forced herself to look up at the ceiling. She waved her hands at her face.

“Oh- Oh! Its waterproof! You're good!”

“It is?!” Vee squeaked, struggling to hold herself together.

“Yeah, yeah, it is!”

“That's s-so cool!” Vee finally let her tears loose, still waving at her face while nervously laughing.

“You like it? Do you like the flowers? It was Donnie's idea!” Mikey asked, beaming as bright as the sun.

“Yes! Yes, I do, thank you!” Vee paused in her flapping to look over her hands again, and the dress, and her face.

Her flowers.

When she looked to Donnie, he looked as if he couldn't be happier.

“Well that's good, cause they cost me my dignity,” Leo groaned, despite the smirk on his face. “By the way, I call next.”

April patted his shell. “Alright, Leo. We'll make you pretty so you can look good for Usagi.”

“Great, because I- Wait! HEY!”

Vee was laughing loudly now, wiping her tears delicately with a single finger. The argument slowly turned back into background noise, as Leo sat on the stool instead, squabbling far too much for April's liking. Donnie recruited Vee for color picking and inspiration searching.

And so Vee let herself exist there, not worrying about mattering or being wanted. Not worrying about if the one she cared about was hurt or crying. Not longing for another sense to experience the world with. Not questioning if she may be taken away for good. Not asking if she really had a family. Not wondering if she did something wrong, or if she even had the right to call herself alive. Not waiting for someone to talk to her.

She had her flowers, and words could never compare.

○●○●○●○

Finally, she is here. I went a little wild on this. There are just so many parts of Vee's story that I can't wait to see. She's my little brainworm 💖

I'm glad that I can get this out before the @tmntaucompetition ends, especially since EW is in the finale. Go vote for them!!! I love them so dearly :)

I'm going to edit the first chapter of my own iteration, (currently titled Second Shot), and post that soon. I simply must get my boys out into the world, especially after discovering @dluebirb's TMNT AU family reunion. Lord knows they need friends.

GO VOTE IN THE TMNT AU COMP! AAH!

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

[tuerescringe]

Shaw Pack Headcanons:

(inspired by my friends! yet again!)

- Whenever Asher dies in a game due to lack of trying, he describes it as “playing with my meat out.” It’s terrible and instantly kills everyone in vicinity.

- Asher calls everyone but David a variation of “little bro.” David is instead given the wonderful title of “Big Dog.” He hates it.

- Angel plays Fortnite with Asher. Which sucks because they play on switch and it’s the worst possible way to play it. They refuse to touch the console simply because they are lazy.

- Baabe is a Glee enjoyer.

- Sweetheart has been begging everyone to play Lethal Company together because they find it absolutely hilarious.

- Milo is surprisingly not as adverse to the idea. He thinks the tiktoks that SH sends him of it are pretty funny. Actually playing it is horrifying though. He stays in the ship.

- David kinda adores Lethal Company.

- David tries to backseat whenever Angel plays a game that he likes.

- Whenever Darlin is gamer raging/jokingly insulting Asher, he responds with something like “You’re my friend and I care about you so much :) Did you know :)” It shuts Darlin up.

- Sam and David always take the lead when playing multiplayer horror games.

- Angel fucks with Roblox heavy. David absolutely does not get it.

- Asher does though.

- Milo had a soft spot for terrible medical dramas. His favorite is Grey’s Anatomy.

- Sweetheart watches it too but they get so stressed over the workplace atmosphere.

- David is a 60’s-70’s era anime enjoyer.

- Darlin’s top used emoji is the middle finger.

- Milo and Darlin are the same level of pussy when it comes to horror.

- Angel describes things as “yucky disgusting.”

- Sam and Baabe like playing chess together.

- Darlin constantly debates others on whether it not they could beat their faves in a fight.

- They are adamant on the idea that they could solo Gojo.

- Asher and Angel greet each other by going “Hey buddy!” in a strange little nerd voice.

- They all have little beaded bracelets. Angel got them for everyone during a trip to their hometown.

- Whenever David is explicitly affectionate towards someone besides Angel, they feel strangely frightened.

- Asher sends everyone slop content tiktoks and thinks they’re the funniest shit ever.

- His favorite currently is a clip of a Flash villain saying “and now I am the ruler of gorilla city and all of the gorillas will follow me.”

- Whenever someone says something mildly upsetting in the gc, Sam replies with “Jesus wept.”

- Sam’s top used emoji is “😕”

- Whenever someone says something stupid, or unfunny, Milo responds with “That sucks, by the way.” It immediately makes the recipient rethink their life choices.

[aggro-my-beloved]

Shaw Pack HC’s (1/?)

note: I promise after this I’ll get some sleep…and dream about more redacted audio HC’s, that is

• Sweetheart has made it their mission to teach Aggro the most random tricks, without Milo’s knowledge. We’re talking fetch, speak, high fives galore. Sweetheart still isn’t sure how Milo hasn’t noticed the cat’s recent weight gain from all the treats he’s been given for “motivation”. It wasn’t until one fateful night that Asher and Baaabe were invited over to break in their new house and Asher left his mode of transportation lying around (him and Baaabe arrived separately since she was working late) that the result of their secret training lessons were exposed.

“Uh, sweetheart,” Milo begins, voice curious and steady.

“Hmm?” His mate hums, craning her neck to peer at Aggro flawlessly passing over the hardwood floor of the living room. It’s yet to be adorned by a rug of their choosing.

“Why is our cat on a skateboard?”

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

• Baaabe has never encountered a physical fight in their life. Always one to stay out of trouble, they keep to themselves and never enter any altercation that involves a clean uppercut or south paw, because they’d surely fail.

Or so they thought. Hell, even Asher did when he begged them to join him in his adventure to the arcade and purposefully led the two of them up to the Boxing Punch Game. It’s the first time Baaabe is seeing the name of the machine, but they are familiar with it. The player decks the red punching bag dangling before them and watches the score tally up to deduce whether they are as strong as they thought or indeed a weakling.

Too afraid of what their results may yield, Baaabe volunteers Asher to go first, which he does without complaint. The sound of his fist colliding with the bag echoes across the arcade hall and perks a few ears, and his score grazes the seven hundreds. Baaabe feels her toes curling in anticipation while Asher keeps on encouraging them to just give it a shot, and that “the score doesn’t matter. You’re unempowered after all, I have a bit of an advanta—“

The rest of his sentence gets caught in his throat, his jaw slack as her numbers climb and climb to over a thousand total points. But even more shocking—to Baaabe’s total disbelief and Asher’s amusement, the punching bag lie on the floor, disconnected from its machine.

Yup. Baaabe broke the fucking game. All from a single hit.

It made Asher hard a little scared of his mate’s true strength. He did the dishes that night without complaint.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

• Clumsy as they may be, I think Angel is secretly good as secretly good as sewing. Perhaps they worked as a part time seamstress for a past job, maybe a uniform store that involved hemming a measurements. This is a wonderful tool to have for emergency instances, like that broken zipper on Baaabe’s wedding attire which Angel resolved with ease. Baaabe would claim the rest of the night that Angel really is a saint sent from higher deities out of our control. Everyone will blame these babbles on the mate’s alcohol intake.

But in the comfort of their home, Angel uses this power for pure, ungodly chaos. Including, but not limited too:

1. Slightly hemming Davey’s tank tops to fit him slimmer around his waist. His mate loves how it shows off his physique.

2. The clothes he hasn’t worn in a while will be cropped to better fit Angel. How they gaslight David into believing his security hoodies keep shrinking in the wash and he needs a better vendor who uses less cotton is still a mystery.

3. Three Words: Ugly. Matching. Sweaters.

4. The entire pack has one designed by Angel personally and almost everybody loves them. Milo pretends not to be offended when he is gifted his sweater that’s two sizes too small. David rarely wears his unless Angel pulls out the puppy dog eyes, which he can never deny pleasing. Baaabe and Asher wear theirs religiously, even if it’s the dead heat of summer.

[rose-pearls]

Lazy kisses in the morning - Prompt

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain

Top Gun Taglist: @bisexual-watermelons

The first ray of sunshine came through the window as you tried to fall back asleep, the drowsiness of sleep was pulling you back in until you heard some noises from the baby phone. 

It had been three months of chaos, a little Seresin arriving and throwing your world upside down. But you had enjoyed every single moment with your little boy, from the moment you held him in your arms you knew you would do anything for him.

As you looked at the clock you saw that it was nearly six, Jake was starting to wake up and you couldn’t help but smile at his scrunched-up nose. He was probably still dreaming about something as he was waking up and didn’t seem to want it to stop.

His eyes opened slowly, fluttering open and green eyes met yours as a loving smile appeared.

“Hi, beautiful.”, he whispers, his voice still slightly asleep and you can’t help but smile softly at your husband.

“Hi handsome, slept well?”, he nods slowly, before brining you closer to him with his arm around your waist.

“Always when I’m with you.”, there is a small smirk on his lips and you roll your eyes in answer, the man couldn’t stop flirting.

“Alright Romeo.”, you teased him, and Jake smiled at your words, his eyes once again closed as he still feels sleepy.

“How did you sleep?”, he asks, and you smile at the question.

“Good, longer than the past few weeks.”, this makes him furrow his brows as he looks at the clock and sees that it isn’t three in the morning.

“Are you telling me our little man slept through the entire night?”, he asks in slight disbelief, and you can’t help but laugh softly.

“I guess he did.”, a proud smile appears on his lips, as if the fact that his son slept through the night is the best thing that has ever happened.

“Well, he is a Seresin.”, Jake says cockily, and you roll your eyes in answer.

“Please he got it from his mother.”, you say with a proud smile and Jake smiles softly in answer.

“Along with her stunning looks.”, the words make you blush, even after ten years together.

“Come here I didn’t even get my morning kiss. It is sacred.”, Jake quickly says before rolling you on your back and smiling at you with a devilish grin.

“You know, the last time you had that look I ended up pregnant.”, you tell him with a warning, but Jake only tries to look at you innocently, which doesn’t work.

“Didn’t hear you complain.”, he says with a smirk before bringing you into a soft kiss, taking his time to tell you good morning. 

These were your favorite mornings, the lazy kisses in bed while ignoring the rest of the world for just a few minutes.

“You’re so beautiful.”, Jake whispers with loving green eyes as he looks at you and you bring him back into a long kiss.

“We only have ten minutes before he starts crying and wondering where we are.”, you say, trying to look innocent but the downright filthy look your husband sends you tells you that he knows exactly what you mean.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I can be quick.”, he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but bring him back into a heated kiss.

“You better be, Lieutenant Commander.”, his title makes his pupil dilate even more, just like you knew he would before he starts kissing you like a starved man, leaving kisses and bites everywhere he can reach.

And although your husband had always been one to keep his promise, Milo had to wait just a minute more before you went to get him. After all Jake is thorough and you needed a minute to get your breathing back to normal and your legs to work again.

The fact that nine months later there is a little Seresin coming home with you, is something you don’t need to know just yet.

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Eleven - Mwuah

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.3K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

"Mr Ricciardo," said Milo as he tugged on the bottom of Daniels shorts, trying to get his attention. "Mr Ricciardooooo!"

Daniel hadn't stopped staring at Milos Momma. She was dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt again, speaking animatedly with Laurent Mekies. He wore heart eyes, whether he realised it or not.

Again, Milo tugged on his shorts, gaining his attention. "What can I do for you, Milo?" He asked as he crouched down, meeting his height.

Milo looked behind him, looking at his car. "Can I drive it?" He asked, somewhat timidly.

Daniel didn't laugh at him. He wore a kind smile as he stood up straight and held his hand. "You can't drive it, buddy. But, if your Momma says it's okay, I might be able to let you sit in it?" He proposed.

Immediately Daniel began tugging him towards his mother, calling for her. But Y/N was in conversation. Unless something bad was happening, she wasn't turning around. "I think somebody wants you," said Laurent as he let her turn around.

Y/N sent him an apologetic smile and turned around. There Milo was, holding Daniels hand. She looked around for Olivia, who was sitting in the corner, on her iPad. "What do you boys want?" She asked, her voice teasing.

"Momma, can I sat in Mr Ricciardos car?" Milo asked quickly.

"Did Mr Ricciardo say its okay?" She asked, looking up at Daniel through her eyelashes.

It wasn't supposed to be sexy, Daniel knew that. But seeing her dressed in his AlphaTauri shirt, looking up at him like that, he couldn't help it. She was so damn pretty, so damn alluring.

"It's fine with me," he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Then it's fine by me."

She watched as Milo dragged Daniel back over to his car. Daniel picked him up and lowered him into the Formula One car. Immediately Milo reached for the steering wheel, which wasn't there. His mother pulled out her phone as she snapped pictures of him pretending to drive. He moved his arms and hands like he was steering and moved his feet like he was pushing pedals. Daniel leaned against the halo, telling Milo where to turn. He didn't use left and right to direct him, instead telling him to drive towards his Momma, towards Olivia, keep going straight - push! Push! Push!

Y/N looked away from her son and Daniel. She loved it, loved how he was with him. But her eyes locked onto Olivia, who was no longer playing on her iPad. The iPad was in her lap as she glared at Milo and her father.

She pocketed her phone and walked around the car, walking over to Olivia. "Hey," she said as she sat beside her. "Whatcha doing?"

But Olivia was still glaring. Y/N gently nudged her shoulder. "You know, if you asked your daddy if you could have the next go, I'm sure he'd say yes," she said.

Olivia set out a sigh as she let her gaze fall to the floor, visibly upset. "Oh Livvy, what's the matter?" She asked as she grabbed a hold of the iPad, stopping it from sliding to the floor.

"Daddy looks like Milo's daddy," she said quietly.

"Oh, Livvy," Y/N said sympathetically. Somehow she understood what Olivia was saying. That they, Daniel, Milo and Y/N, looked like one happy family, one she wasn't a part of.

Standing from her chair, Y/N offered Olivia her hand. She took it and, together, the girls walked over to the car. Olivia squeezed her hand and looked up at her as they walked. When they got to the car, Y/N scooped Olivia up and placed her on her hip. "Daniel, somebody has something they wanna ask you," she said, turning Olivia towards her father.

Daniel looked away from Milo. "What is it, Badger?" He asked softly as he took Olivia from Y/N.

While they walked, Y/N lifted Milo out of the car. "Come here, munchkin," she said and stepped away, letting Daniel and Olivia have their moment. Before she knew it Olivia was sat in the car, pretending to drive it just the way Milo was.

***

The AlphaTauri car was doing exceptionally well, considering it was an AlphaTauri car. At first Daniel was just fighting for points, but now he was fighting for the podium. "Go, daddy, go!" Olivia shouted as she watched, squeezing Y/N's hand.

Somebody's car had stopped working and two had crashed into each other, taking each other out of the race. That left just seventeen cars in the race.

This was going to be Daniels highest points finish since he was put back into the AlphaTauri car. Olivia couldn't wait to see him on the podium again.

But Daniel wasn't on the podium, not this time. He couldn't get in front of the Ferrari car that took third, leaving him finishing p4.

He was still happy though. As soon as he could he was pulling his helmet off and running over to Olivia. He didn't care how sweaty he was as he pulled her into his arms. "Yay, daddy!" She cried, wrapping her arms around her neck.

"Mr Ricciardo!" Daniel shouted as he attached himself to his leg.

But Daniel put both of the kids down. They stepped back, watching with wide, curious eyes as Daniel walked towards Y/N. His gloved hands reached towards her, settling on her waist and pulling her close.

"Congratulations, Danny," she whispered and reached up to kiss his cheek.

But that wasn't good enough for Daniel. He tightened his hold on her and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

There were probably cameras on them, Daniel realised. They were in the middle of the AlphaTauri garage, the moment not very private. But he didn't care. The whole world might've been watching, but he didn't care.

Milo and Olivia watched. This wasn't meant to happen. Their parent's weren't meant to start... kissing. "Daddy, stop it!" Olivia called, but Daniel didn't hear it.

He pulled away from Y/N and rested his forehead against her own. But neither of them could say anything, not before Milo began calling for his momma.

"What is it, Munchkin?" She asked, turning away from Daniel.

Milo scrambled around for an excuse. "I... need to go to the bathroom, momma," he said, reaching for her hand. Y/N shot Daniel an apologetic look and took Milo off to the bathroom.

As she did, Daniel grabbed a hold of Olivia. "Come on," he said softly and walked her to his drivers room. Olivia sat on the white sofa as Daniel stepped out of his racing suit. She kicked her legs, playing on her iPad as her father got changed.

"Daddy," Olivia said slowly as Daniel put his hat back onto his head. "Is Miss L/N gonna be my new momma?" She asked innocently, looking away from her iPad.

Daniel took the iPad from her and placed it into his bag. "Badger," he began as he picked her up and placed her on his hip. "Badger no. She's not gonna be your new momma."

"Then why were you kissing her?"

It was delicate, something Daniel didn't know how to explain to Olivia. "Look, Livvy. I like Milo's momma, but things take time, okay. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell your mum just yet."

"So, it's a secret?"

"Yeah, jelly bean. A secret I'll tell your mum when everybody's ready, okay? Think you can keep that secret for me?"

Olivia pouted and laid her head against Daniels shoulder. "Okay Daddy," she said as he carried her out of the drivers room.

Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow

[1-800-papaya]

Not so southern

Jay Halstead x Baker!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death and loss of parent

A Letter. A deathbed confession. It wasn’t something Y/N had ever expected a mere month after the death of her mother. She’d barely returned to Chicago after the funeral, barely returned to the cafe; she’d barely returned to Jay.

The open letter lay still on the table of the couple’s home. Y/N sat frozen, her eyes locked on the carefully written words floating in a river of unanswered questions in her mind. Her mother truly knew she had to leave an impression. But could she call the woman who had raised her her mother? Was it right to attach that title to a woman who had kept a life-altering secret from her? It was sitting at the table, her mind reeling that her newly minted husband found her later that afternoon.

Jay groaned as he dragged his tired body. The day didn’t seem to end, and a tough case was always twisting and evolving into something ugly and demented. When, Voight had finally allowed his detectives to leave and gather their strength, Jay had all but leapt from his desk and rushed out of the district. Though his partner’s tired, teasing smiles didn’t escape his eyes. The routine that had developed over the last two years wasn’t something Jay enjoyed breaking, but the light and warmth he longed for was not dusted in powder sugar or smeared in chocolate behind a counter.

The small two-story home’s door never felt so heavy as when the day dragged on like an endless tunnel. Jay could tell straight away that something was wrong. The house was cold and still. The only movement was Luna slinking to greet him. While Jay loved Y/N’s two furballs, Milo grated Jay’s last nerve most days; Luna and her subdued personality were more his speed. There was no warm feeling that filled each visitor; no delicious gooey chocolate smell filled the air.

“Hi Lu, do you know what’s going on? Hmm, Sunshine?” no response. Jay’s nerves grew. He knew she was home; her precious bronco was sitting in the driveway. Jay wondered aimlessly through the house before finding his loving wife sitting still like a stone statue.

“Y/N/N, love”, Jay’s voice was soft as he gently approached the young woman. Kneeling beside her, Jay watched as she turned slowly, and his concern grew when he noticed the rivers of silent tears that were running steadily down her cheeks. “What’s wrong”

Y/N didn’t trust her voice. Everything in her life felt like it was betraying her like it was wrong. Silently her shaking hand reached for the letter, a piece of paper that felt as heavy as concrete. She didn’t trust her wobbling voice to convey the news her ‘mother’ was telling her from beyond the grave. She looked away as reality started to sink in and her sobs became audible, breaking her husbands heart as he read his late mother-in-laws words.

Dear Y/N, I know now that my days are numbered, and I can feel life leaving me as my strength drains more each day. As such, I have a secret, my dear, that I feel I need to tell you now. It is a secret I once told myself I would’ve told you by now, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do so. This is much harder than I thought. I hope you will forgive me for keeping such information from you, dear. You are adopted. Your father and I loved each other but could not have children. When we saw your little face, we fell in love. The orphanage was overrun and loud, yet you were sound content…so peaceful. Now, I know this is quite shocking, and we may never be given the opportunity to talk, given my health. But I want you to continue to be yourself, darling. Do not let this change you. I saw how happy you are with Jay. Mary has shown me a lot of photos you sent of your wedding. I know you may have questions, so I have spent my recent spike in free time doing the work for you. Your original birth certificate will be sent alongside this letter. I do hope we see each other again before I leave, but if we do not, please do not linger too much on this information. You have quite a life ahead of you with Jay, live it, if not for me dear, but for yourself. Love Mum

Jay instinctively reached for the other piece of paper sitting neatly on the table—a birth certificate—an Illinois birth certificate. His eyes scanned the document. Shock filled his very being when he fully registered the names written in the father and mother of child boxes. Camille and Hank Voight. His wife was the daughter of his boss. Within seconds, his eyes flickered up, and his body moved quicker than his thoughts. Wrapping his arms loving and tightly around Y/N, Jay offered comfort and affection that she accepted without hesitation.

“I still love you, Sunshine”, Jay mumbled into his wife of barely two months’ hair. Y/N didn’t say a word, not that Jay needed a response. The house stayed still and silent for most of the night; she became numb and motionless as Jay moved about and eventually carried her to their bed, reassuring her that nothing between them had changed.

Tag List @smoothdogsgirl

[vilf-lover]

i’m not one of those cool fanfic writers so don’t expect greatness and i’m idk how to make a title and fancy specifications but

this is how i imagine darlin getting everyone kicked out of the club because of them fighting went down ⭐️

gn!darlin

1400 words 😭😭😭 certified yapper

“I LOVE THIS SONG!!” angel shouted into darlin’s ear while an intense edm rendition of ‘baby’ by justin bieber roared from every crevice of the club

they were wondering if anyone was going to be able to hear after tonight, but they didn’t care because of how much fun they were having. though, they were questioning angel’s taste in music…

“OKAY I AM GOING TO GO GET A WATER AND GO SIT DOWN WITH MR PARTY POOPER OVER THERE” obviously darlin was referring to their wonderful mate that just happened to come to the club again- even after last time ;))

he claimed he came again for safety reasons but they knew it’s because he had a blast, even before their “dance lesson”. sam may not be a dancer, but he always talks about how music makes him feel truly alive, how he felt when he was human. a reminder of his livelihood.

darlin ends up sitting next to their mate the rest of their night as they both enjoy shirley temples and nice cold waters.

as the night grows older, the pack decides they’ll stay for 30 more minutes before leaving.

about five minutes before they plan to leave-“darlin’ i’m gonna use the restroom before we head out. don’t get in any trouble without me.” he chuckles as he jostles out of his seat and makes his way to the back.

about a minute passes before a man, about 6’0, shoulder-length hair, one full sleeve of tattoos sits on the chair next to them; in the seat sam was occupying.

“so gorgeous, you leaving here with that guy? because i know something that would make you much happier” he smiles smugly as the words leave his lips

they’re a bit taken aback. while this was not their first rodeo, no cowboy pun intended, they now felt way different when being hit on. as though it was an insult to them and sam.

“oh really.” they say in such an unenthused tone that most people would stand up and walk away right then and there.

it seems as though he takes this as a challenge. “yeah hun, i’m sure i could treat you better than he could. tenfold. how about i prove it?” you can hear the smirk on his face.

this is when darlin’ decides to stop being civil. there is nothing they hate more than a person that won’t take no for an answer. they would know after being in a relationship with one for way too long. boundaries are boundaries.

“listen. i am trying to give you the chance to leave this conversation right now. rejection is hard, i know. i’m sure you’re horny and lonely, but i’m not. so leave me alone.” they scoff and turn their chair back to the bar

“well didn’t know you were such a fucking bitch who didn’t know how to have fun but whatever” he starts mumbling to himself as he walks off, head hanging low

sam appears in the crowd of people, making his way back to his seat. “phew- sorry, the line was so long. how’re you doin’ darlin?”

“well- other than a guy poorly hitting on me, i’m doing okay” they scoff thinking about the interaction

sam is puzzled. “who did what? i left for like two minutes and you’re being ambushed. what am i going to do with such a fine specimen of a mate”

he leans in for a kiss as they both laugh and get up from their seats to meet everyone at the front

darlin and sam are walking out of the club with ash, milo, david and their mates when they hear something behind them

an agitated voice yells at the group, “oh so you have a little posse. and there’s your little boyfriend too. cute.”

confused, they all give glances to each other before darlin’ says to just keep looking forward and walk.

soon it would become obvious that this was not the end of the interaction.

“ignoring me? it’s good to know they’re all fucking bitches! just like you!” the man slurring his words and getting progressively louder as his sentences drag on

darlin’, upset, turns around and approaches the man while still keeping a good five feet of distance to try and maintain some civility. “can you leave me and my friends alone. you are obviously tipsy so i’m giving you this last warning”

they go to turn around before getting kicked in the stomach

“i’m not scared of you or your little friends! and i won’t take a pathetic ass threat!” he says, now screaming.

everyone is in shock- a person they don’t know is now attempting to hurt the person they all know won’t take shit.

“holy shit!” milo gasps, possibly for dramatic effect

david sighs while rubbing his temples, “this is not going to end well for him”

darlin is now standing up after falling into the ground, brushing the rubble off of their hands. there’s an annoyed look on their face as they walk over to sam. “i really did not want to do this tonight but can you take my bag and my rings?”

the man is standing there distraught, wondering why they are acting so leisurely after getting kicked.

darlin’ gives sam a kiss on the cheek and looks at the pack, “enjoy the show, i guess” they roll their eyes before turning back to the man

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing, you think this is some kind of jo-“ he tries to mutter a sentence, before getting punched square in the face

usually, darlin likes making fighting a game. something they can drag out and feel some adrenaline before ending it. but tonight? no, not tonight.

the man looks up, his nose is bleeding immensely. he looks terrified, skittering back on his feet and hands as darlin’ approaches them.

darlin’ is now towering over him, the dim illumination of a streetlight overhead creates a silhouette of their figure thats spine-chilling, they look menacing as ever

“i’ll let you stand up once.” they say under their breath, “give you some dignity. so it won’t be so embarrassing to remember tomorrow.”

they walk back as he very slowly gets up

the man laughs, “giving pity? not a good idea. i can destroy you hun. i just wasn’t prepared.”

he goes to throw a right jab after swinging his left leg in between their feet to knock them over.

in theory, it’s a good idea. make them unstable then hit them when they’re not excepting it. unfortunately for him- that’s not how it went…

darlin is not affected by the leg, and instead squeezes his leg in between their feet. making him stuck- falling directly on his side. a painful landing to say the least

as the pack is watching, they’re also making full commentary. not loud enough for them to hear, as that would be a detrimental mistake.

“do you think they’re going easy?” david asks

“oh absolutely” sam chuckles, “this is nothin’”

asher laughs, “yeah i think they’ve thrown a punch harder than that at me!”

the man is now in fetal position on his left side, wincing in pain.

darlin’ leans down to a crouch, frightenly close, and whispers, “next time, know. no means fucking no. don’t do this ever again. prick.”

the emphasis of their words would’ve been enough to make him topple over in the first place

he does nothing but nod as they walk off.

with impeccable timing, the security guard from the back of the club walks up to the group.

“i’ve been asked to escort you and your party off of the premises.” the man had a deep voice and is quite taller than anyone in the group.

darlin’ chuckles, “are you joking? i mean- this dude was harassing me and then my “party” this whole time and you didn’t feel the need to interject.”

the guard seems to give a glance that says “yeah, i know. i’m just doing my job” which everyone in that group has given before.

“okay. we were just leaving anyway. thanks sir, have a good night” david seems to be the only peaceful one at the moment. at most moments actually.

there’s silence in the pack as they continue walking away from the club until a overly-enthusiastic “wow! that was awesome!” spouts from asher

i am not a fic writer to say the least but i have a very active imagination and i hope this lives up to standard in one way or another

@rarelyisa

@infinitelovewithoutfulfillment

@aimedis

i hope you guys enjoy :>>

[perseabeth]

Milo’s Lyre

this is a one shot written about @anotheroceanid amazing fic titled When the Horizon Bloom, read it on AO3 you will enjoy it very much and get your heart broken in the most beautiful way possible. I published another one shot about this fic titled “What If” you can read it too- I got this idea last night during my angst hour with @anotheroceanid, and after few tears, and of course her inspiration, I decided that you should cry with us too! - i do not own the idea of the fic and i certainly do not own any character, all belong to the great author of the fic that made me cry more than my college curriculum enjoy ✨

Apollo no longer remembers how the dream began. He isn't even certain how he can dream at all. He once believed that gods were immune to such mortal experiences, but ever since his love vanished, dreams and nightmares have haunted him in every stolen moment he tries to delve into slumber. This dream, however, was different.

It was serene. Apollo sat upon a rock, a glittering sea stretching before him. His heart ached with a profound sorrow. The sea... How could he ever gaze upon the ocean again without seeing her eyes? How could he ever look at the waves and not remember the way they mirrored her gaze?

Sometimes, he would embark on frantic quests, searching for the sea that truly captured the color of her eyes, just to glimpse those sea-green eyes once more.

How long had it been? Seven years? For gods, time was an irrelevant concept, a fleeting notion in the face of immortality. Normally, seven years would pass as quickly as seven minutes. But these seven years... These years had stretched into millennia. He never knew time could crawl so slowly, could torture so mercilessly.

Apollo cradled his golden lyre, the instrument that once brought her such joy. He remembered the first time she heard him play, the radiant sparkle in her eyes, the breathtaking smile that stole his soul forever. His fingers, delicate and reverent, brushed against the strings, coaxing a serene melody from the lyre. Each note floated through the air like a whisper, and even the restless sea stilled its waves, entranced by the music.

Minutes passed in this harmonious reverie until Apollo felt a presence behind him—a presence so calm, so peaceful, carrying the unmistakable scent of the sea. Hope surged through him. Could it be his love? Could he finally see her in his dreams?

He turned his head slowly, afraid to wake from this fragile hope. As he did, his eyes met sea-green ones, and his heart melted, his soul awakening. Percy’s eyes… But something wasn’t right. The figure before him was a young boy, no older than six or seven, with golden curls that framed his face in a halo of sunlight. The boy was breathtakingly beautiful. Apollo's heart clenched as he took in the boy’s features. They reminded him of himself in one moment, and then of his love in the next, as if he were a perfect blend of them both.

Apollo's heart clenched. This boy… he looked like the son he might have had if Percy were still here. Shock rendered him speechless as he gazed into those familiar eyes. It was as if the child embodied the essence of their love, a living testament to a future that had been cruelly taken from them.

The boy stood cautiously, studying Apollo with a curious intensity. His golden locks tumbled over his forehead, and he wore a simple chiton that only enhanced his cherubic innocence.

“Can I see this, sir?” The boy’s voice was soft and melodic, yet firm and confident—far beyond his six years. His eyes darted to the lyre in Apollo’s hands, and Apollo finally realized what the boy wanted.

But Apollo was too shocked to speak. The boy stood silently, waiting for Apollo's response. When he finally understood, he nodded. “Of course.”

The boy took careful steps toward Apollo. As he stood before him, the sun god wondered who had raised this child. Most children snatched what they desired without hesitation; they didn’t wait politely for anything. Yet, this boy's sea-green eyes looked up at him with pure innocence and curiosity. He bent slightly to study the lyre, his hands kept respectfully to himself as if he were afraid to touch it.

Apollo realized the boy wouldn't touch the lyre unless he gave it to him.

“Here,” he extended the lyre to the boy. “You can hold it.

The boy hesitated, shaking his head. “No, no, it must be precious.” His voice was filled with a respectful reverence that belied his age, making Apollo's heart beats with admiration.

Apollo gave the young boy a gentle smile. “No, it will be fine here,” he said, pushing the lyre into the boy’s hands. The boy took it with utmost care, his eyes filling with wonder as he studied it. He looked at the lyre as if it were the eighth wonder of the world, his interest and amazement clear.

“Can I ask how you made it, sir? It is amazingly beautiful,” the boy asked, his curiosity shining with pure beauty and innocence.

Apollo smiled fondly, remembering how the lyre came into his possession. “My brother stole my cattle and gave this to me,” he chuckled.

The boy chuckled too, hiding his mouth with his small hands. “This reminds me of a story Mama tells me, about the sun god and the messenger of the gods.”

Apollo froze. The boy’s interest shifted back to the lyre, while Apollo tried to process the millions of questions racing through his mind. His mother told him stories? Apollo was about to ask more when the boy looked up and spoke in his soft, melodic voice. “If you don’t mind… can you,” the boy paused, choosing his words carefully, “can you teach me how to play it? The melody you played was beautiful.”

Apollo, still dumbfounded, watched the boy. “I think I figured out how to make it, but I want to play it for Mama. She seems sad lately, and she loves melodies so much. She sings me lullabies, but I don’t know any to sing for her. So maybe, maybe I can play her something nice that makes her smile.”

Questions swirled around Apollo’s mind. How could a child so young speak with such confidence and wisdom? But the most pressing question came to his lips. “Where is your mother?”

The boy, still focused on the lyre, answered, “On an island.”

“Where is the island?” Apollo asked.

The boy smiled as if Apollo had asked something silly, his smile bright and peaceful. “In the sea,” he said, then paused. “But Mama says the sea is dangerous.”

Apollo looked at the boy, confused. The boy’s answers seemed to reveal everything and nothing at the same time. Dangerous sea? He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Apollo's shoulders slumped. He couldn’t be Percy’s son. Perhaps his mind was creating illusions, offering a glimpse of a future he could never have, mixing him and Percy together to create the child Apollo had always dreamed Percy would carry.

Apollo looked into the boy’s eyes—Percy’s eyes—deciding that maybe, just maybe, he could live this dream for as long as it lasted. For as long as this dream allows him, he wants to imagine that this, indeed, is the child he created with his love. He held the boy’s hand, guiding him on where to place his fingers on the lyre. “Here, let me teach you” he said softly, positioning the small fingers with gentle precision on the lyre’s strings.

The boy was, in fact, the eighth wonder of the world, Apollo thought, as he looked at the young boy whose golden locks glowed in the sunlight.

Once—that was all the instruction the boy needed to create the most beautiful symphony Apollo had ever heard. The boy’s fingers danced over the strings with an innate skill, plucking and strumming as if he had been born for this. The melody flowed seamlessly, each note a shimmering thread weaving through the air, enchanting everything around them.

Apollo smiled fondly at the boy, who was also in amazement, his radiant smile outshining even the sun. The sea sparkled with the boy’s joy, and the sun, feeling almost humbled, began to set beyond the horizon, casting a golden portrait over the world.

Suddenly, the boy stopped and carefully extended the lyre back to Apollo. “I have to wake up now. Mama will wake up soon, and I can’t let her do things alone.”

Apollo’s brows knotted in confusion. “Where are we now?”

The boy smiled brightly. “We are dreaming, of course.”

Apollo took the lyre, looking at it before turning back to the boy. “You can have it.”

The young boy shook his head, making his golden locks jiggle. “It is a gift from your brother. It is precious.” He smiled, a smile that warmed Apollo’s soul, his beautiful sea-green eyes glowing with kindness. Apollo didn't want to wake up. He just wanted to see Percy’s eyes a little longer. Even if it was a hallucination, he wanted to remember those eyes longer.

The boy smiled at Apollo as he began to turn his head. “Thank you for helping me make Mama happy. Next time, when we meet, I’ll try to teach you something too.” And with that, the boy started walking away, slowly dissolving into the dream's fabric.

It didn't take long for Apollo to lose consciousness of the dream. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his bed on Olympus, the morning light casting a gentle glow through his window.

Apollo sat on his bed, his chamber unchanged, Olympus glowing just as it always had. But his heart was heavy with a sorrow that even the gods would struggle to bear.

A sad smile graced Apollo’s lips—a smile that held an ocean of pain, a pain too deep for mortals to fathom. The Fates had always been cruel to him, but now even his own mind seemed to conspire in their cruelty, conjuring hallucinations to torment him.

A young boy, the eighth wonder of the world—a boy he could have had if Percy were still with him. If only she were here, somewhere beside him. He was certain she would have adored this boy, cherished him with all her heart. But he was not real.. And his Percy was not here.

Apollo rubbed his eyes, longing to wake up, to return to his duties, to mourn a girl whose disappearance remained a haunting mystery. And to mourn an imaginary son, whom he was certain he would never see again.

—————————

Gaea’s Island

Percy was puzzled by her son’s urgency that morning. After helping her with his brothers, he dashed outside, claiming to have something important to attend to.

She didn’t pry too much into Milo’s affairs, trusting that whatever he was up to, he knew how to avoid trouble, unlike her eldest, Hector. As long as it was Milo, she assured herself, he would be fine.

But Milo had been unusually preoccupied for days now. Whenever Percy found him, he would hastily hide something behind his back, claiming it was important. Percy didn’t dwell on it, assuming it was a surprise he didn’t want her to see. She smiled at the thought.

Then, she heard it—a beautiful melody that froze her in place. For a moment, she thought it was a dream, a hallucination conjured by her own longing. an image of a man with the most beautiful sky-blue eyes, creating serene melodies for her suddenly occupied her mind.. But the sound of footsteps snapped her back to reality. She followed the sound, Hector and Luke trailing behind her, until she suddenly stopped.

On the grass sat a young boy with golden locks, his sea-green eyes shining with joy as he looked up at her. Her Milo. In his hands, a wooden instrument created the most enchanting melody she had ever heard since she arrived to this island

It didn’t take long for Percy to realize what her son had made. Her heart swelled with oceans of emotions, pain, sorrow, pride and love as she beheld her precious Milo, crafting a lyre with his own small hands.

Percy approached Milo, her heart overflowing with a mixture of confusion and love. A single tear traced its way down her cheek as Hector and Luke stood nearby, mesmerized by the beautiful sound emanating from Milo's creation.

Milo looked up at her with a bright smile, but confusion clouded his features as he furrowed his brows. “You don’t like it, Mama? I made it for you.”

Without hesitation, Percy rushed forward, enveloping Milo in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love it… I love it so much.”

“Then why are you crying?” Milo asked, puzzled.

“They're tears of happiness, my love,” Percy whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears of happiness—tears of memories, pain, and pride. Tears of many things.

Milo pulled away, showing Percy the delicate wooden instrument he had crafted. “Here, let me show you more,” he said eagerly, his fingers deftly plucking at the strings.

As Milo played, Percy couldn’t help but notice how he resembled his father in that moment. Not a mere version, like Luke, but a reflection—a radiant embodiment of his father's spirit.

Then it struck her—how did Milo know about the lyre? It was Hermes who created it, nd given it to Apollo, later becoming Apollo's symbol. How could Milo know exactly what a lyre looked like? She had always believed that their father lived on in their souls, but she never imagined it would manifest in such a tangible way.

Puzzled, Percy looked at her son. “How did you learn to make this?”

Milo beamed at her, his eyes sparkling with the wisdom of the universe. “In my dream, of course, Mama.”

The answer did little to quell Percy’s bewilderment. She watched as her son proudly displayed his creation, insisting that she should smile because he had made it for her happiness. He even taught his brothers how to hold it so they could all bring joy to their mother.

She watched them take turns playing, each displaying a pure talent they hadn’t known they possessed

Her Milo, her precious children, and her precious lost love…

A few days later, the lyre disappeared from the island, as if it had never existed before.