#multipart: the head knows what the heart wants

[aperrywilliams]

They Will Never (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer's girlfriend is jealous. During the Christmas party at their daughter's school, the other moms don’t stop hitting on him.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+; Minor DNI. Suggestive and dirty talk. Smut (fade to black) at the end of the fic. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I’m back!!!! This past months have been a rollercoaster in many ways. Well, talking about this fic, it could be a sequel from "That Wicked Love" multipart I wrote a while ago. Nonetheless, it could be read as a stand-alone.

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I never thought it would be easy. When I discovered that I was pregnant and Spencer wasn't going to support me, I was sure the world had ended.

There were weeks of thinking over and over again about what I would do with my life. Then I decided I would have Olivia, and that's it.

I don't regret my decision. Liv is my little girl, and I love her with all my heart, but motherhood is hard.

Since Olivia was born, my life has mostly revolved around her. Being a mother is a full-time job. But I have been managing the best I could. I continued working after she was born, and with time, some of my personal life returned too.

However, the stability of our little family was broken when a bloody bastard kidnapped my little girl two years ago. She was four back then.

That wasn't enough, though.

What were the chances of Spencer working on my daughter's kidnapping case?

I forgot to mention that I never told him I would continue my pregnancy, so it was a surprise for him to see me and know that he had indeed been a father.

Fortunately, Spencer’s team recovered Olivia and three more kids kidnapped by the same guy.

What followed was a rollercoaster of events and emotions. Spencer wanted to be in Liv’s life, and although I swore never to talk to him again, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father.

He showed regret and swore that leaving me alone while pregnant was the worst thing he had done in his life. He looked genuinely sorry, and he wanted to make it up to Olivia.

Against the odds, I let him.

He became the best dad for my girl. Since then, he has been for her at every step.

The problem? Having him close awoke those feelings I thought were buried the day he left.

I tried to ignore it. I really tried. Even if he never did something to make me uncomfortable in our co-parenting roles, I did feel off with it.

I still loved him. And months after, Spencer confessed that he still loved me too.

Would it be a bad idea? Maybe. But I left my heart to speak louder than my brain. That's why we have been dating for the past three months.

So you can guess how odd it is having your daughter’s dad as a boyfriend. Some people think we are married or living together when we are not. Others believe we are just co-parenting and don’t have a relationship.

Usually, I don't care what people think. But right now I wish things between us were clearer to the world, specifically for the moms who had Spencer cornered in the venue of this year’s school Christmas party.

Am I jealous? Yeah. But how could I not be? Spencer is the epitome of the young-hot dad, caring and lovely. And polite. Very very polite. So much so that even if he had noticed their advances, he hadn’t said anything. Maybe he likes that.

This has me overthinking, and I wouldn't say I like it because it brings all kinds of insecurity thoughts to my mind.

Right now, for example, instead of going to interrupt this obscene flirtation, I'm walking to the opposite side to check if Olivia needs anything. I can't bring myself to do something different.

It didn't help to hear part of their conversation when I was passing by a while ago.

“Your wife is a lucky girl, then,” Kimberly chimed, patting Spencer’s forearm.

“My what?” the man asked, confused.

“Your wife? Olivia's mom?” Kim explains, tilting her head. Then Spencer realizes she’s talking about me.

“Oh! No, actually, we are not married,” he corrected. God, Kimberly’s eyes go wide as if she found a gold mine. The rest of the moms there reacted in the same way.

I have nothing against that fact, but with them knowing it? It's like a door was opened. A door to the shameless coquetry, and I hate it.

I knew Spencer wouldn’t be consciously flirting with them, but seeing him laugh at their jokes and don’t even flinch when one of them gripped his forearm not only made me see red.

It was even worst: it made me self-conscious.

I know it's an irrational feeling. Of course I know there are people better than me in many things. I wouldn't pretend to be a superwoman or something close to that. But since Olivia started preschool, I have been feeling less than the other moms. At first, it was because I was raising her alone and working simultaneously. I couldn't make it to every school event or whatever they planned during the year. Now, also, there is the fact that it’s Spencer who can fulfill that role, and I still can’t. He is the cool dad with a cool job. And there are cool moms with cool jobs too, who he’s talking to at this precise moment.

Doing the math, it doesn't look like I could be up to that kind of expectation.

For the rest of the evening, I avoided being close to Spencer and the other moms. Instead, I focused on the kids and that Olivia could have fun at the party. After all, it was the primary purpose of this activity.

The ride home was mostly silent. I tried to concentrate on driving and not look at Spencer from the corner of my eye. Liv was fast asleep in the back seat.

The streets were filled with snow, and you could see the Christmas lights on the windows of each building we passed. The ambient was clearly festive, but I didn't feel or look that way.

Maybe Spencer felt something was off, but I guess he didn't want to bring it up in the car. He only made some random comments about the party, and for all of them, he got from me a curt hum in response.

When I parked, he took hold of a sleepy Olivia in his arms and helped me upstairs.

It was a well-known routine since we told Liv that Spencer was her dad, and she warmed up to him. Every time we got to my apartment after an afternoon together, he carried our daughter to her room and got her ready for bed. The little girl would open her eyes and demand a bed story from her dad.

Spencer loves reading to her, even if he knows most of the stories by heart. That's one of the many things they share as father and daughter, and I try to give them the space to do that. That's why this time, like others, I headed to the kitchen to make myself some tea.

With a mug in hand, and after switching on the Christmas tree lights, I plopped on the couch. I didn't notice before how much my feet hurt. What can I say? The afternoon’s overthinking even dimmed my body aching.

Great, now I can add ‘old and wasted’ to my self-deprecation list.

I let my eyes be entertained by the colored lights, wondering if I was being overdramatic. My thoughts were interrupted by Spencer sitting beside me.

“I couldn't finish the story, and she had already fallen asleep,” he announced, lifting my legs so they could rest on his lap. Thoughtlessly, he started rubbing my feet.

Silence took over the room. I tried to concentrate on the pleasant feeling of his hands on my aching feet, but my face sure didn't hide my sour mood.

“What's wrong?” Spencer asked cautiously, inspecting my features. I tried to play ignorant.

“Uh? What do you mean?” I lied. Spencer frowned.

“You are too quiet. You didn't say anything during the car ride, and I could tell you avoided me most of this afternoon,” he recounted.

Shit. Obviously, he noticed.

“I’m just tired,” I lied again. I didn't want to explain what was bothering me. It was silly, and I felt stupid for it. He was about to say something to question my answer, but I didn't let him.

“Maybe you should go home. I think it's better I go to bed,” I pointed, detaching my feet off his lap and sitting straight on the couch. By all means, I avoided making eye contact because I knew he would realize what I was trying to do.

During the past months, he had spent the night at mine before, but it wasn’t a habitual thing. We decided to take it slow, and neither he nor I had put pressure on that matter.

Spencer’s frown deepened, nonetheless.

“Okay. I’ll go,” he announced. “But first you need to tell me what is bothering you. I don’t bite the ‘tired’ thing,” he declared, shifting his posture on the couch to have a better look of me.

“Nothing is wrong,” I repeated, but my voice sounded even less convincing than before. The man hummed, thinking about what to say first.

“Did you know that in the US the 95% of people who are asked for a confirmation to a statement actually lie about it?” He commented. I huffed, already feeling trapped.

“Great. Now is where your 187 is displayed,” I said under my breath. It was a thought that wasn’t meant to be said at loud. But it slipped.

Spencer tilted his head.

“Hey! Now I’m worried. What happened? What did I do?” he asked in a high pitch tone, scooting to my side. I shook my head, sighing.

Maybe it was better to get clean and tell him everything.

“You - you didn't do anything. I mean, yeah. You were there, all cute and sexy. It's your fault! And they? They were all over you, gawking at you as someone looks at their prey!” I grumbled.

“They?” Spencer asked in confusion.

“The other moms, Spencer! Now you will tell me you didn't notice?” I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest and placing some distance between us on the couch.

“You mean at the party? No way. That not happened,” he refuted, shooking his head.

The bastard was denying the most obvious thing! That made anger fill my body, and I had to stand and start pacing. It was that or scream at the man.

At the loss of words, Spencer stood too, following my pace with his gaze.

I knew he could see the fuming escaping from my ears, but I didn't care.

He wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to start. I bet my pacing in the room wasn’t helping him.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbled softly to catch my attention. I turned to see him. His confused look only fueled my irritation.

“Fuck, Spencer! How can you be so clueless? They were hitting on you! God, if it were up to them, you'd already be tied to their bed frame,” I shouted, hands waving in the air to accentuate my point.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“What? That's not true. They were being nice. That's all,” Spencer defended. Sure, he has to be oblivious right now. I would have punched him to make him realize the truth.

“Nice, uh? I didn't know nice meant touching the guy in front of the whole people every chance they got. Or are you going to deny they did that, uh, genius?” I sneered now with my hands on my hips. My blood was boiling inside as I remembered the scene.

Spencer cleared his throat. He was recalling those details, and they were hitting him now. Cautiously he took a step forward, hands trying to reach mine.

“Hey, don’t get upset. I - I didn't see that. I’m sorry,” he said, stepping in front of me and prying my arms from their position on my hips. His fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of my palms.

“I should have seen it. I didn't think it was something like that. You know I’m pretty stupid in that kind of thing. I’m really sorry,” he apologized.

I really wanted to stay angry, but seeing those puppy dog ​​eyes, looking intently at me made it difficult.

Argh! Why just one look from him it's all that it takes to feel my knees go weak?

“Don't look at me like that!” I protested.

“Like what?” He asked, kind of amused by the reaction he provoked in me.

“Like you were an innocent pigeon. All men are the same, honestly,” I complained, leaving the grasp of his hands. A new rush of anger came quickly. Spencer pursed his lips; he could tell the reason why I was upset wasn’t just the moms flirting with him.

Before I could turn and walk away, Spencer stopped me grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently so I could look at him.

“Please, don’t go. I’m sorry I didn't notice. But you know why I didn't? Because they are not you,” he declared, intertwining our fingers and grasping our hands with his free one. I looked at him, with some treacherous tears fighting to come out.

He continued.

“They are not you. You are the only one that can get my attention that way,” he declared, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

“I’m not that special, you know?” I mumbled, pursing my lips to stop the tears.

There it was. The intrusive thought in my mind replayed over and over since it hit me this afternoon.

Spencer narrowed his eyes, realizing there was more than jealousy because of him.

“Don’t say that. Of course you are that special, and much more!” He rebutted, and I chuckled bitterly.

“Am I? I mean, why would you be happy with me when you can get a successful well-manicured super mom like them?” I pointed.

“What are you talking about? What is that thing about super moms?” he asked, now taking hold of both my hands.

I sighed. It was something that was hard to explain, even to me. I left the grasp of his hands, running mine through my hair, collecting my thoughts.

“Look. I don't expect you can fully understand it. Honestly, I think I can’t understand it either. It's just - I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m not doing enough. I’m not a successful businesswoman with a six-year-old daughter, a nice car, all dolled up, perfect makeup, and baking cupcakes for the whole school, like Kimberly, you know?” I shrugged, feeling small and vulnerable.

Of all that people, I chose to compare myself with Kimberly Garland. The incarnation of a super mom. She was known as a successful CEO at a technological company. Mom of three and recently divorced. She always shows up to school activities, no matter what. And not only that, she actively participates, whether cooking, taking care of the ornaments and decorations, or whatever it needed.

How could you compete to that?

“And do you think that no being like her is a bad thing?” Spencer asked me.

Did I believe that? Perhaps I did.

“Maybe it is. Don’t you think Liv deserves a mom like that? Or you a girlfriend like that? I saw you talking to her today, and I couldn't stop thinking she could offer more than I could.”

It hurt to say those words out loud, but they were the ones plaguing my thoughts at the time.

Spencer's face softened. Great, now I'm sure he felt pity for me.

“She can’t. Kimberly or whoever you’re comparing to. You're an excellent mom, (Y/N). And the best girlfriend I can ask for," Spencer stated now strocking my cheek.

I felt silly making a fuss but the insecurities were there. I couldn't help it. The embarrasment made me downcast my gaze to the floor.

“My sweet girl. Look at me, please," he asked, tilting my chin up. I did so, my cheeks turning red under his gaze.

“Olivia is a lucky little girl, you know? She has the best mom in the world. A mom who loves her and would do whatever it takes so she can be happy and safe. Who cares if you can’t be in all those school activities? Not her, because she knows you love her. It doesn't matter if you are not a company CEO. You have your job, and thanks to that our daughter has had everything she needs. You took care of her alone in her first years. On top of that, you have always sought her well-being and happiness. You let me be in her life even after I hurt you years ago. I will always be grateful that you did,” he said, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear.

“She deserves having her father around,” I pointed. It was a decision that I made when we spoke again after Olivia’s kidnapping. Although my hurt feelings, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father if he genuinely wanted to be in her life. Our problems as adults didn't have to be a problem for her.

“And she deserves the wonderful mom she has,” Spencer declared, kissing my forehead. I blushed at the compliment.

“Now, regarding this relationship,” he began pointing between the two of us. “You have nothing to worry about. They don't stand a chance, and you know why? Because they don't even compare to the most beautiful, smart and brave person I've ever met. Who owns a small bookstore downtown, and my heart. The woman I fell in love with the moment I saw her—the mother of my child. Who gave this idiot a chance to be in her life again even when he didn't deserve it. They are not you, my sweet girl. They will never be, and that's why I could never even look at them the way I look at you.“

Fuck Spencer Reid and his ability with words.

“You mean it?” I asked tentatively. Still unsure if he was being serious.

“Of course I mean it. I’m here for the long run, and I hope someday - sooner or later - we can take the next step. I want everything with you, (Y/N), but I’ll go at your pace. I promise.”

I couldn't help the giggles that left my lips.

Could love make you this way? I felt lighter and confident. Spencer's words made me see that I have no reason to sulk that way.

“Keep talking like that, and you'll get the world, Dr. Reid," I stated, now wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckled.

“I don't need to get it. I already have it with you,” he said, giving a peck to my nose.

"You're a sap," I teased.

"And you love it,” he added, leaning down to kiss me. I happily obliged and kissed him back, tightening my grasp on his neck. His hands planted on my hips to keep me steady.

The kiss deepened, and only we parted when the need for air was too much.

He looked at me with a devilish smirk on his face.

“You know?” he started, kissing my cheek and then my jaw. “There is only one bedframe I would rather be tied to right now. And there is only one person I wish would do indescribable things to me as I’m tied up at her mercy,” he whispered in my ear, and immediately, I felt shivers down my spine.

“Spencer, don’t. That's not helping,” I mumbled with my eyes fluttering shut.

“Isn’t it? Why? Are you thinking about it right now?” He teased. The bastard knew what he was doing. “You would like to see me all tied up, waiting for my sweet girl to do what she wants? Would you like to be in control and show those moms who own me?” he asked, as his lips left traces of kisses on my neck. His hot breath was hitting on my skin and making my desire grow.

“Spencer,” I moaned, lost in his words and eager for his touch.

"Tell me what you want. I'll give you anything," he whispered in my ear, hands running down my sides, giving me goosebumps.

“You. I want you.” Those words left my lips like a prayer—the utter confession of desire and pent-up tension. Spencer grunted.

“You already have me. I’m yours,” he murmured, pulling up the hem of my shirt, so his hands could sneak under to feel my skin.

“And I’m yours. Totally yours. But I need to feel you,” I confessed. I was so lost in his touch and starved for more.

Spencer understood the meaning of my words, so he kissed me hungrily, walking us backward in the direction of my room.

That night Spencer proved to me, with kisses, caresses, and words of adoration, that my insecurities were unfounded. It's true that I'm not like Kimberly Garland, but I don't have to be. I have a daughter whom I adore and who

loves me, a job that fills me with satisfaction, and a boyfriend that I love and who does an excellent job of showing me how valuable and loved I can be.

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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99

[videnoirfics]

A Simple Favor- Raymond Smith x Reader

Gif is not mine- Belongs to its rightful creator!

Word Count: 1292

Summary: Raymond receives a request from Mickey to find a name. And the only person he knows that can get the job done is you. Problem is, how does a former lover that ghosted you out of nowhere come back asking for a favor?

Warning: Cursing. Angst.

A/N: Problem a multiparter. Depending on how it does. Started working on this a few days ago after rewatching The Gentlemen. I just love Ray but I love me some good Angst. This is my first piece of writing that I have published in a long time! I am slowly getting back into writing. I am so nervous but hopefully it's a good read!

Happy Reading!

***

A Year.

A whole year since you've seen this Brit Bastard and now here he was at your front door. Asking for a favor. A simple Favor. Typical.

You let out a boisterous laugh as Raymond once again adjusted his glasses on his face for the 3rd time since arriving at your doorstep. "You have a favor to ask of me?" A preposterous fool. You licked your lips in frustration, already feeling the heat rising in your body.   "Well, you must have the biggest set of pearly white balls in the entire world to come here and ask me for a favor after what-a year? A whole year, Raymond?" You shifted the weight of your body to lean against the wide open front door, not allowing him entrance. He wouldn't dare ask to be let into your home would he?

He knew he was asking a lot. He knew that he was coming back with his tale tucked right in between his legs after ghosting you an entire year ago. But he knew out of all of the names he had on his roster to do this one task for him, you'd be the only one that could get this information the fastest.

Your name slipped from his lips. Almost a whisper. An ache in your heart reemerging from the locked up dungeon you had buried it into after so long. "I know that we didn't end things on a good note-" Anger flashed into your eyes as a flame was instantly lit. How fucking dare he?

"No, you fucking cunt. You! You didn't end things on a good note." You were quick to cut him off and correct.  Many people wouldn't dare talk to Raymond like such. He was a powerful man. Working for another powerful man. He had pull in these streets. But you weren't afraid of him. And you have been waiting a very long time to get this off your chest. "But whatever."  You shrugged your shoulders. "As long as you got your rocks off, yeah?"

Frustration washed over the man's face. You could tell he was running out of patience by the twitch in his eyes as he once again readjusted his glasses. You remembered the many times, you would take his glasses off, let him lay his head on your lap and you would soothe the stress away from him.

His job was demanding and sometimes lasting days, weeks before he could get time to himself. To relax. A slight twitch in your hand made you aware that deep down, you had the feelings resurface that you wanted to ease his frustration but you quickly pushed them back into lock and key. Refusing to let him see the mask slip. He didn't deserve it.

While he knew it wasn't going to be easy to convince to help him, he wasn't in the liberty of wasting time. Especially when Mickey was counting on him to get this done quickly. "Look, I need your help." He stopped beating around the bush. "And I know it's asking a lot. And I know an apology is not going to fix things but I am running out of time. Now if it makes you feel better and willing to change your mind, this isn't a request from me. It's from Mickey."

You knew Mickey. Rosalind and you were actually friends for a bit when you and Ray were courting. They were always good to you and Mickey even offered you a few side gigs for extra cash. You never felt like you owed him but if the favor was for Mickey...

"He needs you to find this name." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he retrieved a yellow sticky note paper with a name neatly printed on it. A familiar name. Your brows peaked with interest, grabbing the piece of paper into your hand, fingertips just barely touching his. The pad of your thumb ran over the name as you thought of your answer. Eyes ran the length of the man in front of you, landing on his blue eyes that you used to spend countless nights gazing into after a night of pure romance and passion. But now all he saw looking back at him was anger and sadness.

"This is for Mickey?" You questioned him. A curt nod was the answer you received. "I think I know where I can find them." Just as much as Raymond and Mickey were connected in their own ways, so were you. You had made a name for yourself from your special set of skills. You could easily talk and get as much information from anyone that you needed to get. It made you a lot of friends as well as a lot of enemies. But that came with the job. You never fret about it. And you knew what you could do. So did Raymond. Or he wouldn't be here if he didn't. If this was for Mickey, then fine. You’d help him. "Give me a day. I'll reach out to Mickey with what I can find." You responded, leaning away from the door in order to shut it. A large hand stopped you from doing so.

"I'd prefer you reach out to m-"

"And I'd prefer, I didn't." Once again, he was cut off. His fingers, spread out on the base of the front door, clawed at the wooden surface in irritation.

"Can you stop interrupting me?" Raymond was a cool and calm collected man. But boy did you know how to push his buttons. 

"Can you fuck off into another existence?" You pushed his hand away from the door. "If you want my help? We do things my way. You don't call me. You don't talk to me. I respond to Mickey because this is for him. He can tell you where to go from there." You demanded. 

“So Mickey is the middlemen. Between you and me?” You crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Never seemed to be a problem for you before…” A flashback of the night you received a call from Rosalind replaying in your mind. Your name fell from his lips again. Almost begging you to cooperate. His blue eyes. Those ocean eyes, almost hypnotizing you to drown into the pool of them without an anchor. No...not this time again. "Tell Mickey he'll hear from me in a day..."

Before he could usher another word, the door slammed shut in his face. Dry lips were bit in frustration and unspoken words were left floating in the wind.

"Fucking hell..." he sighed, his shoulders now hunched over in defeat as he retreated back to his black SUV to tell Mickey about your cooperation.

Unbeknownst to him, you were watching from the window of the living room. Peering through the sheer curtain , pressing them back to get a look at your former lover. 

You knew you shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't have even taken the job. Told him to fuck off and find someone else. But he said Mickey, and your logical brain thought it would make sense to say yes. You could see him sit in the car for a moment. Staring down at his lap, his glasses now off his face, resting on the dashboard. His left hand reached up to rub his eyes and temple. Feeling a headache approaching. You were sure of it. You knew him. More than you'd like to. But this didn't change anything. It couldn't.

You wouldn't let it.

You didn't wait to see him reverse from the driveway and leave back to the estate. Once he looked back up to your house; To the window you were just occupying, you were gone.

Sheer curtains swaying softly as they returned back to their resting position.

***

I've proofread this a few times. Hopefully I didn't make any mistakes. Like I said, probably a multi piece. Really wanted to get this out there because I just love Charlie and Ray especially is Sploosh. Anyways. Please let me know what you guys think!

Thank you for reading!

[fresh-fanfics]

Yandere! Kaoru Hanayama x AFAB! Reader

TW: Depression, Mommy Issues, Stalking, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Delusional Thoughts.

Reader: A foreign college student who's currently taken. She's a bit of a brat, but has a good heart.

So I finally have an idea for a fanfic with Hanayama. I really like the idea of making Yandere fics with him, he just seems so perfect for them. This fic is gonna be a multipart, I'm used to making slow burns so if you don't swing with that, I don't know what to tell you. Buckle up? Anyways, enjoy.

Hanayama was no romantic man. Even with all the money and power in the world, no girl would ever want to stay with someone as dangerous as him. For a while, he was satisfied with this life. He had accepted that no person would ever look at him in adoration and pure love. As empty as it was going day to day, girl to girl, brothel to brothel, it was enough to distract him from his loneliness. When work became too much, he distracted himself with empty pleasure and the moans of prostitutes that were just there for the money.

He laid down against a brick wall, bleeding on the cold and dark floor at a filthy alleyway. It had been one of those days where the underground world was at a state of unrest, violent gang wars breaking out without any signs of stopping. He had no choice but to step in, show everyone who the real boss was. Hanayama knew he would survive. He always does, but sometimes he wished he didn't. He knew he needed to move, but peace like this was a luxury. Any man that tried to disturb this solemn moment would not live to tell the tale. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the cold wind blow against his face.

"Oh my God, sir, you're bleeding! Are you okay? What happened?" A feminine voice took Hanayama out of his thoughts, his eyes opening to find a woman that bent down with concern in her eyes.

He stayed silent, his steel-hardened gaze observing her delicate stature. She was a cute little thing, the equivalent of a tree sapling that had yet to bloom. He trumped her in size and strength, yet she was unafraid. Hanayama had seen hardened men twice her height and stature that would quiver at his feet, but not her. This naive woman who dotted over him like cattle. He watched her ramble about and rummage through her purse for some kind of thing that would stop the bleeding.

He knew it was useless and no amount of nursing from a stranger was going to make the pain disappear, but he commended her effort despite how foolish it was. Did she even realize who she was helping? She was naive to be tending to a man that has crushed millions of gangsters like a grape.

"Okay, almost...Got it." She had tied a makeshift tourniquet around his left arm using her cardigan.

"Can you get up?"

The large man gave a slight nod, struggling to stand up on his two feet while this stranger tried to help him stabilize his trembling form.

What was this woman doing? She must have either been the most oblivious thing on the planet or the most wreckless. She certainly didn't look like she belonged here.

"You speak good Japanese for a tourist." He spoke at out of the blue, making her slightly jump from his sudden comment.

The woman gave a forced chuckle.

"Actually, I've been living here for a while now. I know I don't exactly look like I am, but this is still my home as much as yours."

Kaoru felt conflicted, processing the words inside his head. Despite being born and raised in Japan, it didn't feel like home. Being raised in a Yakuza family was not easy for a young kid. Violence was your normal, and there was no telling if you would live to fight another day. He envied her naivety, the innocence in her eyes that he never got to keep. It was depressing to think about, to say the least.

"We definitely need to get you to the hospital. These injuries are not something you can shrug off." She reached for her phone before he grabbed her wrist with his other hand, causing her to flinch from its tight grip.

"No need. I know a doctor. I'll give you the number." He noticed her trembling form, loosening his grasp as he dialed the numbers and letting the phone ring.

"Hello? Who is this? How did you get this number?" An elegant voice could be heard from the other side, calling out to whoever was there.

"Kureha. I need your services." Without even uttering his name, Hanayama knew that Kureha would recognize his deep and raspy tone. He spoke with conviction and directness.

"Kaoru? What happened to-You know what, it doesn't matter. Where are you right now?" Kureha sighed in exasperation.

"I'm in an alleyway at the Red Light District near Deathmatch pub. Come quick." He hung up without so much as a goodbye, dropping her phone in her hands.

"You can go. I don't need your help anymore."

The foreigner girl's face soured, glaring at him as she shoved her phone in her bag.

"Hmph. You're welcome." She grumbled, gritting her teeth and turning up her nose at rude man.

"I guess I'm not needed here. Good luck. I hope you recover well." Sarcasm dripped from her tone as she left him alone in the alleyway.

He watched her figure disappear through the bustling crowds in the city streets without even as much as looking back at him. Hanayama stared into space, alone in a cold alley once again. Despite her bratty behaviour, he didn't mind it at all.

"Huh. Strange. This girl is something else. For someone who claims to have lived here for a while, she's damn clueless. I'll admit, she has guts to talk down to me like that.."

Before he could dwell on it any longer, a series of loud sirens blared down the streets with an ambulance stopping nearby. Paramedics clamored to take him away for treatment, rushing him towards the hospital.

It would seem that he'd have to hold that thought for a while...

To be continued.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Under The Stars and Stripes - One (Capt. Syverson x OFC)

a/n: look at your girl coming up with two multiparters at once!!! i wanted to write something sweet for capt. syverson (who moving forward, i have named luke, fyi), and my partner sort of suggested this (i mean, kinda, he thought it was what i was writing - turns out he was wrong but gave me a v good idea).

pairing: Capt. Syverson x Joanna Blake (OFC)

warnings/content: injuries, medical discussions, age gap (38 + 26), mentions of military service, inaccurate descriptions of physical therapy + military life.

word count: 1.9k

The unforgiving glare of the overhead lights in the medical center cast a harsh radiance over the waiting room. Luke's cerulean blue eyes squinted against the artificial glow in the room, his gaze wandering in search of anything remotely captivating. Opposite him, an infographic poster touted the virtues of physical activity and mental health, a message that seemed incongruous with the knee brace he begrudgingly wore. The irony of contemplating jogging or hitting the gym while nursing a wounded knee did not escape him.

"Luke Syverson?"

He swiveled his head in response to the melodic call of his name. In the doorway stood a woman, her blonde hair secured with a claw clip, a clipboard balanced gracefully in her hand. A warm, friendly smile adorned her heart-shaped face. With a half-hearted wave, Luke acknowledged her.

"Present and accounted for, ma'am."

Internally, he winced at the self-consciousness his response provoked. Rising to his feet, Luke attempted to distribute his weight favorably, minimizing the strain on his compromised leg. A sharp pang shot through his knee, confined by the rigid embrace of the brace. Collecting his crutches, he navigated his way toward the young woman, focusing on maintaining a semblance of grace. The crutches, tools of mobility he had resisted vehemently at home, now betrayed his struggle.

As he drew closer, Luke observed that she was notably younger than he, the realization of his own impending forties sinking in. Her olive-green eyes sparkled, framed by honey-colored strands that cascaded like molten gold. A sun-kissed radiance illuminated her complexion as she beamed at him.

"I'm Joanna. I'll be your physiotherapist moving forward. Let's head to the exam room; we can go over the paperwork together."

Her voice possessed a cheerfulness that could rival a weather reporter or red carpet interviewer. Luke nodded in understanding, trailing behind her as they entered the room. The once sterile lighting had mellowed, casting a more agreeable ambiance.

The examination room emanated professionalism, each piece of equipment meticulously arranged, and charts displayed with precision. Joanna gestured toward the examination table, indicating for Luke to take a seat. Settling into a chair nearby, she balanced the clipboard on her lap.

"Alright, Captain Syverson, let's delve into the paperwork and gain a betterunderstanding of your situation, ok?" Joanna initiated, her focus shifting to the documents before her. 

“Let’s start with the basics, full name and date of birth?”

“Right,” Luke began, “"Full name's Luke Everett Syverson, ma'am. Ain't much use for the middle one, but it's there. I was born April 15, 1968, ma'am, interrupted my ma’s Easter dinner. Home base is Fort Bragg, North Carolina, hence why I’m here in Durham. Otherwise woulda’ probably gone to the centre in Tennessee, closer to where I’m from and all..” 

“You know, I never use my middle name much either, but, just in case there’s two Luke Syversons in the armed forces, gotta include it to make sure I’ve got the right one.,” Joanna nodded her head, humming as she jotted down her notes.

The room embraced a quiet tension as Luke settled onto the examination table, his eyes following Joanna's movements with a mix of curiosity and wariness. The dimmed lighting cast a softer glow, alleviating the clinical starkness of the surroundings. Joanna, her gaze focused on the paperwork, began with a series of routine questions about the nature of Luke's injury.

"So, Luke," she started, her tone gentle yet professional, "tell me about when the injury occurred, and how has the journey been since then?"

Luke took a moment, his gaze drifting to a framed landscape photo on the wall. The distant mountains seemed to echo the weight of his thoughts. "Iraq. Torn ACL," he said, sparing the details but acknowledging the source of his struggle. "Routine patrol, turned into anything but routine."

Joanna nodded, recognizing the understated weight in his words. "I see. That's a significant injury. And you had surgery to correct it?"

Luke shifted his weight uncomfortably on the exam table, nodding his head. “Sure did, m’am, three days ago. Still hurts somethin’ fierce, but I guess that’s what I’m here for.”

He sighed, his focus on the knee brace that had become both a literal and symbolic constraint. 

“To be completely honest with ya, m’am, I just wanna get back on my feet so I can figure out what to do with my life now, you know?”

She nodded, understanding the complex emotions wrapped around his military service and the path to recovery. "Recovery and returning to civilian life is a process, Luke. We'll take it one step at a time. Do you have any idea what you’d like to end up doing in future?”

“I haven’t really thought about it. Never went to college, so a lot of stuff’s off the table now. Plus, I’m getting old. Not sure where that leaves me either. Thought about maybe becoming a police officer or an EMT, you know? I wanted to do that when I was a kid, but then joined the military on my 18th birthday instead.”

Joanna smiled warmly as she made a couple of notes on her paperwork, before continuing to further establish the details of Luke's history, the conversation shifting to one about his daily struggles and the impact the knee surgery had on his life. With each exchange, a bridge of understanding formed between them, an unspoken alliance forged in the pursuit of healing.

In those moments, Joanna glimpsed the man behind the military façade. Luke rarely dwelled on his time overseas, focusing instead on the immediate goal: shedding the brace and moving forward. The physical therapy sessions ahead were not merely about mending a knee; they were about reclaiming a life after two decades of military service.

As the examination progressed, Joanna outlined a personalized rehabilitation plan, detailing exercises and strategies to rebuild strength and mobility. The room, once filled with tension, now held a promise of progress and recovery.

"Alright, Luke," Joanna said, concluding their discussion, "we something to start with at least. Let's work together to get you back on your feet."

With the paperwork completed, the clipboard now resting on the desk, Joanna moved seamlessly into the practical aspect of Luke's rehabilitation. She began guiding him through a series of light exercises designed to gradually rebuild some of the strength in his knee that he’d lost. The atmosphere in the room shifted from contemplative to purposeful as Joanna demonstrated each movement with precision, her instructions clear and encouraging. 

Luke, though initially reserved, found himself following her lead, a quiet determination in his eyes. As they progressed through the exercises, Joanna observed the subtle signs of discomfort and adjusted the routine accordingly, ensuring that the session struck the delicate balance between challenge and progress. The room resonated with the rhythmic hum of therapeutic effort, a shared endeavor toward a future where the weight of the brace would be a distant memory. As the session neared its end, Joanna offered a reassuring smile.

"Great work today, Luke. We'll take it step by step, and before you know it, you'll be moving freely again."

“Thanks m’am, I appreciate it,” Luke replied, a soft smile forming on his lips.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Joanna nodded as she held the door open for him in an effort to make it easier to exit as he hopped on his crutches, “And Luke? I wanna hear that you’ve been using the crutches at home as well, or you’ll just injure your knee further.”

“Yes, m’am,” He chuckled, shaking his head as he made his way out of the clinic.

Later that night, Luke settled into the worn-out couch in his living room, the dim light casting a soft glow across the room. He dialed his younger brother Travis’ number, the anticipation of sharing his day evident in the subtle smile that played on his lips.

After a couple of rings, Travis’ voice came through the phone, lively and teasing.

“Well, well, if it ain't the elusive older brother himself. What's new, Luke?"

"Not much, just had my first therapy session today,” Luke chuckled softly as he took a bite out of his slice of pizza. 

"Therapy? Never thought I'd see the day, Luke. What's the world coming to?"

"It's for the knee, not my sanity, Travis."

"Alright, alright. So, how'd it go, Captain?"

"Surprisingly good, actually. The therapist, Joanna, she's something else. Got me doing all these exercises. Says I'll be back to hiking those Arkansas woods in no time."

“Joanna, huh? Luke, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a little bit of a thing for her. Florence Nightingale effect?"

"You watch too many movies, and besides, idiot, that’s when the therapist falls for the patient. Ain’t gonna happen. She's just good at her job, makes me feel less uncomfortable, I s’pose."

"Sure, sure. So, what's the verdict? She cute? Should I tell the kids they’ve got a new aunt?"

"You'll be waiting a long time for that. But seriously, it felt good, productive. And, she asked me about what I wanna do now. Got me thinkin’ about my options."

"Really? Did she smell the smoke? Set off a fire alarm?"

“Funny. I’m thinkin’ maybe becoming an EMT, you know? Can still help people, use my military training, just…stayin’ stateside and less sand.”

“You did always have a thing for helping people, I’ll give you that. Now, about Joanna…”

“Travis, forget it.”

“I’m just saying, Ma’s 60th birthday is coming up, and you know you’re in for a grillin’ about when you’re giving her grandbabies.”

“She has two already,” Luke protested, laughing as he took another slice from the box of pizza, “Besides,” he said with his mouthful, “I don’t know if I even want kids at this point. I’d be dead by the time they had kids”

“Well, if they take after you, maybe. I had kids at a reasonable age.”

“I s’pose, how are they anyway? Bet ya Hannah’s grown like a bad weed since I saw her last, and Maddie? She was knee-high to a grasshopper last time I saw her.”

“They’re good. Maddie’s almost 5 now, gettin’ quite feisty, like her mama, and Hannah’s taken up cheerleadin’, now I gotta become well-versed in making perfect pigtails in her hair if her mother’s busy with the little one.”

“Better you than me, Trav. Don’t think I could figure out how to do those tiny lil elastics.”

As Luke engaged in a heartfelt conversation with his brother, the echoes of family life stirred a contemplation of his own future. The tales of parenthood shared by his brother left a lingering thought.

 Did he, despite his usual reserved nature, harbour a desire for a family of his own? 

Love and romance had often found him awkward and uncertain, but when it came to showering affection on his nieces, those barriers melted away effortlessly. His musings naturally gravitated towards Joanna, her radiant smile replaying in his mind, illuminating the corners of his apartment like a beacon. 

The playful teasing from Travis planted an idea in his mind, one he never expected to be considering, which prompted Luke to consider whether there might be something extraordinary about his connection with Joanna.

Setting the cordless phone down on the table beside the couch, he sighed heavily, the weight of his newfound solitude settling in as he savored a third slice of pizza. His eyes roamed around the room, the empty expanse of his apartment feeling almost suffocating. The hush of the house, disrupted only by the dull roar of football highlights on the TV, intensified the solitude. In that moment, amidst the quietude, the prospect of companionship and a shared future became a lingering ember in Luke's thoughts.

[milawritesstuff]

Acrostico Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Since we've decided its going to be multipart, I am going to be doing shorter but constant updates. Hopefully you like it. Please tell me what you think, your feedback helps me write the next parts and see where I take this story.

-------

That night you and Alex planned a date for the following week. It would be the first date you went out on since breaking up with Pedri. You had no interest in dating while you were pregnant and once Rosie was born she took up all of your free time. Once you mentioned to Pedri about the date he was quiet. Rosie had already fallen asleep in the back of the car and Pedri and you sat there in silence as he drove through the cold Barcelona streets. His eyes fixated on the road in front of him, his jawbones extremely visible from how he was clenching his jaw and his knuckles white due to the hard grasp of the steering wheel.

“Suerte.” Good Luck. Was all he had said ending conversation with you for the rest of the drive home.

A week later Alex picked you up at Pedri’s home. The two of you had dinner at a local restaurant where you talked about everything that had happened since the last time you had seen each other. Alex smiled at you as you laughed at a joke he had just said.

-Your eyes.- Alex whispered.

-What?

-You know its the first thing that I noticed when I first met you? When Pedri brought you out and introduced you as his friend.

You smiled at Alex and looked down at the table.

-They’re beautiful, Y/N. They always seem to say more than what you let out. I could get lost in them.

You felt your cheeks burning as you smiled and looked up at Alex. He smiled back and licked his lips reaching out for your hand. You had your guard up after everything that had happened with Pedri but this felt different and nice. You had forgotten how it felt for someone to look at you like Alex did. And you remembered how it felt when Pedri and you first began to date, when you would look over at him and he was already staring. The way he would look at you as if you were the best thing to happen to him, but you always deep down knew. You always had looked at him with fear in your eyes, fear that he would walk out at any moment. 

Alex walked you to the front door of the home you and Pedri shared. He held your hand as the two of you walked under the moonlight and placed a soft kiss on your cheek as a goodbye. 

You opened the door and found Pedri sitting alone in the living room. Once he heard the door open he turned around to look at you and stood up.

-Buenas noches.- Good night. He said as he stood there. -At least you had the decency to not bring him in to spend the night here.- Pedri said as he took a few steps towards you.

You smirked and placed your keys in the bowl that sat on the entry table. -Ganas no me han faltado, but he has practice tomorrow morning.- I would have loved to. You spat back at Pedri and took a few steps towards him who did not stop looking up and down your exposed legs. You had on a short and tight black dress which not only left much of your legs exposed but also your shoulders.

-But I haven’t brought anyone home.- Answered Pedri once you were face to face with him while he discretely took your scent in. He fought every impulse in him to not take a step closer, place your hair behind your ear and start nibling you down your neck.

You took a deep breathe.

-Vale, but nobody has told you that you can’t.- You whispered as you took one step closer to him. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and stared at him for a few seconds. His heart beating dangerously close to you as you rested your hands on his chest.

You felt almost as if his body melted into yours. He began to lean his head down towards you, you wanted to close your eyes and feel his warm lips around yours, but you knew better. It was all you could think of since the other night that he had kissed you. But you knew that was all he wanted, to assert his dominance over you. To have you eating out of the palm of his hand once again only to destroy you. Once you felt the warmth of his mouth getting closer to you, you pulled away and startled him. 

-Actually, when I did tell you to stop messing around you didn’t listen to me. When I told you to give me my place as your girlfriend, you didn’t care.-

Pedri looked down at the floor puzzled. -There was so much going on at the time, I didn’t mean it.- He explained.

-But you did Pedri. You stepped all over me time and time again. Every time I asked where you were going, why you didn’t want me to go with you, when you didn’t want to tell me who you were going with.- Your eyes began to fill with tears.

Pedri took a step closer and grabbed your arm. -I promise I didn’t cheat on you. I was going through things and - You cut him off.

-And you didn’t trust me to help you with them. You pushed me away. You made me feel like I was just an option. And I think that might have hurt more than you actually cheating on me. And now you think you can come and complain because maybe there is someone who would give me my place?-

Neither of you said anything for a few seconds. You wanted to cry and yell at him but you held your tears back.

-How did Rosie behave?- You asked as you began to walk towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. Pedri smiled and brushed his fingers through his lips. 

-As great as she always does.- He said somewhat coldly.

-Well, goodnight. Alex me ha dejado con ganas and I should go to bed before I do something I’ll regret tomorrow morning.- Alex left me wanting some.

-Cabrona.- You heard Pedri yell out as you began to walk down the hallway to your bedroom. -Buenas noches, querido.- You yelled back.

Flashback

Pedri’s behavioral change had been like night and day. He would come home and kiss you nonstop, always messaging you as soon as he left practice so that you could be ready to go out or order food for the two of you to stay in and spend time together. But little by little he had become distant. He began by missing out on dinner blaming Xavi for making them practice later than normal. Eventually the texts throughout the day had stopped and it was as if you knew nothing about him. What you didn’t know was that his constant injuries had been playing with his head. 

-What’s wrong?- Asked Eric as Pedri hit the door of his locker with his fist.

-I’m starting to feel discomfort again, I can’t be out for another two months on injury, I’ll miss the end of the season.- Said Pedri as he took a seat and brushed his hands through his hair.

-Did you tell the physio?- Eric sat down next to his friend.

-Ni de coña, they’ll sit me down right away. I’ll just take it easy, we have two days off I can rest and see what happens.- Eric patted Pedri’s back as a way of showing him support. 

-Y nada de follar these days so that you can actually rest.- He laughed causing Pedri to laugh as well and shake his head. 

-Buah she’s been mad at me, even if I wanted to I don’t think I’m getting any anytime soon. And I get it, we’ve been traveling so much with the team that I hardly get to see her and I’m always tired or worried about these injuries.- Pedri explained.

Eric stood up and continued to change. -I’ll never understand why you and Ferran chose to get tied down so fast. Look at me, no worries. Come out with me tonight, have some fun.-

Pedri looked up at Eric and then over to his phone. -I’de have to see if Y/N can get ready quick so I can pick her up and - Eric interrupted him.

-No, just us boys, no girls. You need to destress and blow off some steam. Just tell her practice went on for longer.

That was the first night that Pedri went out without telling you anything. He came home late to find his cold dinner on the dinning room table and you asleep on the couch. He crouched down to place a kiss on your forehead and lift you in his arms as he took you over to the bedroom.

You opened up your eyes and smiled up at him. -Pedri.- You said half asleep. -Where were you?- His body now hovered over yours. His black hoodie gave you warmth. He leaned in and took your lips into a kiss. -Xavi got mad and practice went on for longer, I’m sorry babe.- You closed your eyes and tasted the distinct flavor of alcohol in his kiss. Even half asleep you knew he was lying. You felt your heart drop as he continued to kiss you. You opened your eyes and stared at him.

-Buenas noches, Pedri.- You whispered as he looked at you with confusion. -I’m tired.- You explained to which he smiled and proceeded to step out of the bed. 

The next morning you asked again where he had been. -You didn’t even get to have dinner, you should have called me so I could have saved it for you.- You said as Pedri fixed himself some breakfast. 

-I told you Xavi ran the practices later than we thought. I couldn’t go and get my phone.-

You went over to the refrigerator to get the milk out. -Ah vale, and did Xavi also give out beers for you guys?- You closed the refrigerator door and stared at Pedri point blank.

-What do you mean?- He asked with a dumbfounded look on his face.

-Yesterday when you kissed me, you had been drinking.-

-I don’t know what you’re talking about.- He said as he shrugged his shoulders.

-Look Pedri, you’re an adult, you can do whatever you want. But don’t lie to me.-

Pedri stood up  and shook his head. -You’re right, I am an adult so I can do whatever I want. I don’t need to tell anyone what I’m doing, specially you.- As soon as he said the last words he felt remorse, but of course he would never admit it. 

Pedri walked over to the table where he grabbed his phone and his car keys. -Where are you going?- You asked.

-I’m going over to Gavi’s or somewhere, I’m not going to spend my whole day off here getting interrogated by you.- And before you could say anything he was out the door.

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[crazychaoticizzy]

TRACK 2: The Bends

Following their high school careers, the original five in the band Heart Attack begin rising through the ranks. Despite their slow ascent to success, they make it in the end. Even with everything that went wrong.

EREN X READER X JEAN

CONTENT: multipart fic, rock band au, slow burn (I mean it), love triangle, angst, mentions of drinking, violence, blood, mentions of guns, major character death

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

series masterlist

AOT masterlist

<< previous part

EREN: I brought it up in my mom’s garage when we were all freshmen, I think. We were all playing a game together and Mikasa came in. I wanted to do it then because all of us were there, and it had been forever since we’d all been in the same spot so when would we get that chance again?

Armin, I remember, seemed super reluctant. I don’t know if money was a problem though, or if he genuinely didn’t want to do it. I never found out, either.

ARMIN: Yeah, I wanted to do it, it sounded fun. But as a hobby. I didn’t want to do it often. Eren wanted to turn it into a career, and . . . I just couldn’t do that.

JEAN: The problem with the idea was we were all dirt poor. Eren was the only one living with a family that wasn’t working their asses off to make ends meet or living paycheck to paycheck because his dad was a doctor.

ARMIN: We brought that up. I told him, “Not everyone can do what they want on a whim.” It was the end of that conversation, but on my sixteenth birthday a week later, Eren had rented me an acoustic guitar.

CONNIE: After that, we all knew that we were doing this, whether we wanted to or not.

Armin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. He hated this. He hated coming to Eren’s house every single day when he could be working and trying to help his grandfather get out of debt.

Eren was explaining how to play the chords to him (since when did he know how to play?), but Armin wasn’t listening. He stared at Eren’s hands with an absent expression as they moved, switching dates he could work around in his head and running through the long list of assignments due in his mind.

He swore he was going to die of stress before he even turned eighteen.

“Dude, if I’m boring you just say that.”

Armin hummed, moving his gaze to Eren’s face and the teasing smile that played on his lips. “What?”

“You’re spacing out. Didn’t know I was that uninteresting.”

Armin took a moment to process Eren’s words before shaking his head. “Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Oh.” Eren dropped his hands from the guitar’s neck. “Something wrong?”

Armin shook his head, running a hand over his face and through his hair. “Just tired.”

The day before had been one of the rare days where Armin didn’t need to be at Eren’s house. He’d worked the entire afternoon, switching jobs at about 6:30 before going home after midnight.

But after he returned home he remembered the pile of class work he needed to catch up on and ended up passing out at his desk without making a dent in it.

His days had started blurring together. He couldn’t remember anything taught in class and his reaction time to things was getting slower and slower the longer he went without sleep.

He hated everything.

“Do you need help with your work? I could do it for you.” Eren put the guitar to the side, leaning closer to Armin.

Armin took a second to respond before shaking his head. “No. I don’t want your failing ass to tarnish my perfect grade.”

“Well that perfect grade is gonna get bad at the rate you’re doing things anyway.” Eren paused. “Sorry.”

Armin waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s whatever.” He groaned and laid back on the concrete floor. It was cold, and Armin thought this must have been the best thing to ever happen to him.

He let his eyes close for a minute. Or two. He wanted to sleep, and at that moment nothing could have felt more comfortable than the hard floor beneath him.

Eren shoved Armin’s arm, making him hum in irritation and open his eyes. Armin turned his head, finding that Eren was now lying beside him.

“What?”

“I’m serious, Armin. Do you need help? Even if I’m not the one to do it, I’m sure one of the guys would be happy to.”

Armin shook his head, waving Eren off. “It’s fine. I’ve been thinking about dropping out anyway.”

“What?” Eren sat up, hands squeezing his knees as he looked down at Armin. “Why?”

“It’s just too much. My grandpa’s behind on payments and he got an eviction notice the other day. He tried hiding it, but you know him.”

Eren nodded. He knew that Thomas Arlert was holding onto the last strands of health he had for Armin’s sake. The old man tended to have things slip from his mind easily, so what likely happened was that Thomas hid the eviction notice and forgot where he’d placed it, making him ask Armin without thinking.

“We can help you guys out.”

Armin shakes his head. “We’re fine, Eren. I have it under control.”

What Eren wanted to tell Armin was that he shouldn’t need to have it under control. He wanted to tell Armin that he should be living, not struggling to scrape by. He wanted to tell Armin that he didn’t need to do everything by himself.

But Eren had said all those things before, in one way or another. Some of them he had said more than once. But every single time, Armin shot him down. It was clear to Eren that Armin didn’t want help.

That never stopped him from offering, though.

“Okay. But if you ever need help you know we’ll help you.”

Armin hummed in acknowledgement, closing his eyes again. Eren didn’t say anything else. Instead, he got up to put the guitar back in its box and left Armin on the floor. Eren walked into his house to retrieve a thin blanket, walking back out to gently place it over Armin’s sleeping form.

Eren walked back into his house, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he propped open the garage door and sat at the dining room table. He could see Armin’s golden hair from where he sat, and he held his phone up to his ear as it rings.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Armin’s thinking about dropping out.”

Jean was silent on the other line. “What?”

Eren made a sound of affirmation. “He said he and his grandpa are about to get evicted.”

Eren heard Jean silently curse. He heard the rustling of blankets and another questioning voice that sounded suspiciously like Marco. “Is he seriously thinking about doing that? What about wanting to be valedictorian?”

Eren shrugged as if Jean could see him. “I don’t know, Jean. But he’s on the brink of failing anyway, so I don’t think he’d reach that goal even if he stayed in school.”

Jean huffed. Eren heard more rustling and the soft clanking of metal. “Alright. I’ll call Connie. See if we can scrape something together to help out.”

Eren nodded. He didn’t say anything else for a moment, just listening to the soft shuffling around coming from Jean’s end. Again, he heard a voice that sounded a lot like Marco’s, but he didn't comment on it. Something inside of him always said they were more than friends.

Jean’s voice finally came through again. “Okay, I’ll call Connie now.”

“Okay.”

The call fell silent. Eren expected Jean to hang up, but when he didn’t, he lowered his phone to press the red button before Jean spoke again.

“Armin’s gonna be okay, okay? We’re all gonna be okay.”

Eren nodded. “I hope so.”

Another moment of silence followed before it became so suffocating Eren had to hang up. He sighed, standing up from the table and walking up the stairs to retrieve his headphones from his room.

He got a text from Marco moments later. Marco had sent multiple photos of his schoolwork for Eren to copy down onto Armin’s papers. After digging through his bag, Eren found the assignments organized neatly in a folder and started copying everything down.

While he was at it, he tried to improve his own grades.

—

Armin dropped out two months later

He didn’t tell anyone. He simply stopped showing up to school. He stopped going over to Eren’s house, and he tried his absolute best to avoid everyone.

He didn’t want them to be disappointed, especially after they had done so much to help him.

The Arlert’s finances were better. They were no longer living paycheck to paycheck or were behind on any payments, but at what cost? Armin spent all of his free time working, picking up whatever hours he could at his three jobs and accepting the occasional offer of whatever people needed him to do in exchange for money. He had no more social life and no time for himself. When he wasn’t working, he was sleeping.

It seemed like he had completely abandoned his friends. But one day, a warm Tuesday in the summer when his schedules aligned perfectly and he didn’t have work, he walked to Eren’s house. He followed the sound of music playing and found that there were people gathered around the open garage.

Connie, as excited and energetic as ever, smacked his wooden sticks against the drums, keeping the time by tapping his foot against the floor. Marco’s hands moved across the keyboard, occasionally switching a couple knobs at the top to change the sound. Armin watched Jean’s fingers move across the fingerboard of his guitar with ease, and he watched Eren’s lips move centimeters from the microphone.

They sounded good. Maybe not hit material, like The Beatles or Queen, but they had the right sound. They kept the same consistent, obvious beat and overlaid their own tracks over it. They were in tune, and surprisingly were all working well together.

Armin stayed to the side. He stood behind most of those gathered around and just listened to the music flooding down the street, so loud you could probably hear it a few blocks over.

When they finally stopped, they were all sweating. Eren smiled out at the people watching and bowed dramatically as sweat dripped from his chin. Jean heaved heavy breaths beside him, turning to Marco to flash his teeth with a look that said, We can actually do this.

Armin couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips. He clapped with everyone else, watching as his friends began unplugging the amps and speakers and everyone else began to walk away one by one, a few dropping coins or bills into an open guitar case.

When Eren finally noticed Armin standing there, a wide grin crossed his face. He let go of the mic, which would have fallen to the ground if Jean hadn’t caught it by the stand, and sprinted across the driveway to Armin. Eren knocked into him with so much force it almost pushed them to the ground, but he didn’t care because it felt like Eren hadn’t seen Armin in forever.

They stayed like that for a moment. Eren practically squeezed the life out of Armin before Jean yelled, “Get a move on, loser. You’re not the only one that missed Armin.”

“Fuck off, Jean.” Eren gave one last squeeze before releasing the blond. Eren flashed him one last smile before he went back up the driveway. Armin followed suit, looking around at the set up they had.

There were actual drums now. It was no longer just boxes placed on sticks for Connie to practice hitting, there were drums. The guitars were different, too. Jean had a sleek black bass with a dark red strap instead of the acoustic guitar he shared with Armin, and Marco had a proper set up for his keyboard.

Armin’s lips tilted up. He liked seeing this. He liked seeing that even if he wasn’t there, everyone still continued with what they wanted.

He was glad to know his absence wouldn’t be an obstacle, because he was sure he would never be able to join them.

Armin turned his head when Connie held something out to him, his lips curved up in a smile that showed all of his teeth. When Armin looked down at his hand, he saw that Connie was holding out an instrument case.

Armin’s brows furrowed as Connie bent over to leave it at Armin’s feet. Armin kneeled beside Connie and unlatched the locks, opening the case to reveal a vintage Gibson SG. Armin’s jaw fell open, and he stared at the cherry stain of the wood.

“We found it at a thrift store,” Marco said. He walked over, kneeling down beside Connie. “It was a crazy markdown. Only like thirty bucks, I think. We looked online and found a lot for over a thousand dollars. Isn’t that crazy?”

Armin nodded. He closed his mouth and looked up at Marco. “Who’s it for?”

“It’s for you.”

Armin blinked, registering Marco’s words. “What? No, I-I’m not part of this. This is all you guys.”

“You want to be in the band with us though, right?” Connie asked. He sat with his legs crossed, leaning forward. “You can't be in the band if you don’t play an instrument or something, and everyone knows you can’t sing.”

Armin let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t, guys. You know how busy I am.”

“We aren’t doing this without you.” Eren plopped himself on the ground beside Armin, aggressively hitting Armin’s shoulder. “This is all of our thing. We do this together. Right, Jean?”

“Huh?” Jean looked up from his phone, still tapping at it as he looked at where everyone was gathered on the floor. “What?”

“Just say yes.”

“Last time I said yes I was pinned to the floor and Connie drew two dicks pointing at each other like guns on my forehead. With Sharpie.”

They laughed, and Armin felt out of place. He didn’t remember that happening, so it must have been recently.

“The point is”—Eren turned his attention back to Armin—“you’re part of this. We started this with you and we’ll be damned if you aren’t there with us when we keep going.”

Eren took Armin by the hand, intertwining their fingers and giving it a firm squeeze. And then Connie took Armin’s other hand, doing the same thing. And then Marco reached over and squeezed Armin’s knee. Jean, of course, was not paying attention until Eren threw a stray pen at his head and forced him to kneel beside them and squeeze Armin’s shoulder.

“It’s the five of us, guys.” Connie smiled, looking up to meet each of their gazes. “Now, until we’re too old to be jumping around on stage, promise?”

Eren squeezed Armin’s hand tighter, as if doing so would pass the unspoken message along to Connie. “Promise. We’re Heart Attack, right?”

That was new, too. Last Armin knew, the band didn’t have a designated name. It had barely been two months since he stopped showing up and already it felt like so much had changed.

Jean squeezed Armin’s shoulder tighter, reaching over with his other hand to squeeze Marco’s. “We’re gonna be the best fucking rock band in the world. The best of the century.”

If only it were that easy.

—

CONNIE: Man, I could not tell you what happened those last few years before we moved. I don’t think anyone can, actually. I just remember that it was stressful as hell.

JEAN: We didn’t really do much. We were still in school and starting tog eat our first jobs, so we were mostly trying to balance everything out without looking like zombies.

EREN: We moved to Berlin almost right out of high school. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but I don’t regret any of it.

“Do you guys really think we’ll make it?” Jean asked, laying back on the hotel bed with his arms crossed behind his head. “I mean, we’ve been living in this hotel for like a week and a half.”

“It’ll come,” Eren said. He scrolled through the different channels on the TV, eventually stopping on an American program. “We just need time. We need to find jobs that’ll keep us afloat for a bit. And then we’ll start our gigs up again.”

“Well if we don’t find somewhere soon our instruments are gonna get ruined in the van.”

They fell silent, the only sound being the water from the shower head in the bathroom.

Eren looked around for spots where they could put their instruments and equipment, but didn’t find a single empty space. The room was too crowded with all of their suitcases, and even if they didn’t have their own luggage there was no space big enough to put much.

“We’ll find a place,” Marco said. “We can start looking tomorrow. Surely there’s an apartment or something available for rent, right?”

Jean blew air out from his mouth. “I hope so.”

They were silent the rest of the night. They took their turns showering after Connie and started winding down. The TV still silently played, though the channel had been changed as each person took control of the remote.

It was half past midnight when Armin came into the room, his hair disheveled and his eyes tired from work. His black polo was untucked and one of his pockets turned out when he reached in it to grab something.

He brought out a piece of paper so folded it took him a moment to open it. When he did, he walked between the beds, careful not to step on Eren, and flicked on a light.

“Dude, it is past midnight. Turn that off,” Jean complained, pulling the blankets over his head.

“You weren’t sleeping anyway.” Armin whispered, careful not to wake Connie or Marco up. He kicked off his shoes and sat on the other bed with his legs crossed. “But look at this.”

He held the paper out. Jean stared at Armin with dead eyes before Eren reached up from his place on the floor and yanked it out of his hold. Eren held it up as he read it, holding it in the light so he could see.

“Live music performances?” Eren looked up at Armin as he nodded. “At Quasimodo? I thought they only did booked gigs with bigger artists.”

“They want to try something different. Apparently a few record companies approached them and asked them to do this,” Armin explained. He stood up from the bed and walked across the room to his suitcase, kneeling down to grab a change of clothes. “From what I overheard, these labels are looking for the next big thing. They want something new because people are getting tired of hearing the same music. It’s in a month or so, but they want to start getting people now.”

Eren nodded as Armin grabbed a bag and his glasses and stepped into the bathroom. The sound of water hitting the wall soon filled the room as Eren sat up and leaned against the bed.

“This is a terrible idea,” Jean said. Eren looked up from the paper. “I mean, yeah it’ll give us more recognition, but Quasimodo is a jazz bar or something like that. People don’t go there to hear what we do.”

“But if it’s an open night then people should be expecting all kinds of music anyway,” Eren countered. He set the paper to the side, laying back down. “People will give us a chance. We just have to take it.”

Jean exhaled, closing his eyes and turning over. “Whatever,” he mumbled.

It was completely silent moments later, save for the muffled sound of Armin’s shower.

Eren couldn’t take it. He put his AirPods back in his ears and laid back down, pressing play on his phone before closing his eyes and trying to drift off.

When Armin walked back into the room, his hair damp and falling in his eyes, everyone had fallen asleep. He tiptoed around Eren, cautious not to make any noise, and slipped under the covers beside Connie. He reached over to flick off the light, checking his phone once more before turning over and going to sleep.

Thomas hadn’t texted or called since Armin moved. Of course, Carla checked in on him daily and gave Armin updates, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to hear from his grandfather himself that he was doing fine.

Armin fell asleep hours later, his mind haunted with thoughts of how his grandfather was doing.

—

You joined Heart Attack in Berlin early on. Did they ask you to?

MIKASA: No, actually. Well, some of them wanted me to come along if I wanted, but I remember Eren called me one night and said very clearly, “You shouldn’t throw your life away just to follow us. There are better things for you in Shiganshina.” He kind of put a lot of emphasis on the fact that he didn’t really want me to follow, even if he didn’t explicitly say it.

I thought about it a lot. I talked to my mom about it and she just told me to do what I wanted. She said she had the store under control and that I didn’t need to worry about keeping it afloat, because that was the reason I had been so hesitant. A couple weeks after they had moved, I followed.

When Mikasa knocked on the door, Armin was the one that answered.

He wore a white T-shirt and blue pajama pants that made Mikasa think he had just gotten out of bed. His blond hair was touseled and he wore his glasses. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he greeted Mikasa, not quite registering who it was until she pushed her bangs out of her face.

“Mikasa? I thought you were staying in Shiganshina.” Armin leaned against the doorframe, resting his head against it and crossing his arms.

Mikasa shrugged. She shifted her weight and crossed her arms as well, fidgeting with one of her backpack straps. “Well, I never really decided, but I wanted to come here with you guys.”

Armin slowly nodded. He glanced over Mikasa, taking in her pulled back hair and the way she kept shifting her weight like she had done something she wasn’t supposed to.

He thought about Eren for a moment, and how he might react when he saw that Mikasa had traveled the two hours from Shiganshina to join them. He knew that Eren wanted her to stay in Shiganshina—he claimed it was because Mikasa would have a better life there, but Armin thought it was more for his own benefit.

He straightened himself, opening the door wider. “Sorry. I’ve just been standing here. Uhm, do you want to come in?”

Mikasa nodded, quietly thanking Armin as she grabbed her suitcase by the handle and stepped into the apartment.

She looked around as Armin closed the door behind her. It seemed like he was the only one home, based on how quiet it was.

There was no furniture. Well, there was, but the only pieces were a table and three chairs. Majority of the space was taken up by Connie’s drums and Marco’s keyboard. Jean and Armin’s instruments were packed away in their cases and set to the side.

Mikasa raised an eyebrow in question and looked at Armin, who was locking the door. “No furniture?”

Armin hummed, looking at her and then their living room. “Yeah, we, uh, we can’t really afford a lot. But we have a table? You can put your stuff there.”

Mikasa slowly nodded, letting out a soft laugh. She moved her suitcase beside the table leg and shrugged off her backpack.

“Are you hungry or something? We have cereal, probably.” As Armin spoke he moved around the table and started opening cabinets and the fridge, listing off a few items. “I can make you a sandwich, or leftover pizza. A salad, maybe? I don’t know what we have.”

Mikasa shook her head. “No, I’m alright. Where’s everyone else?”

Armin shut the fridge door and leaned against it. “Work. They all have morning or day shifts.”

Mikasa nodded again. The two of them exchanged awkward questions that only required a short answer for five minutes before they finally got back into their old groove. By the time Jean, the first to get off his shift, had come home, Armin and Mikasa were seated at the dinghy wooden table and laughing.

Jean was followed by Marco an hour later, and Connie thirty minutes after that. They moved to the floor where the five of them sat in a circle with cold leftover pizza from the fridge until Eren came home.

And when he did, the wave of annoyance that washed over him was clear.

It wasn’t obvious or boisterous, but the way his grip tightened on the doorknob when he saw Mikasa told her all she needed to know. He walked further into the apartment with heavy steps and closed the door behind him with more force than necessary.

The five of them quieted, watching as Eren stalked across the living room and disappeared down a hallway. No one dared speak a word even while Eren came back out, already changed into a new set of clothes, and began moving around the apartment like no one was there.

Eren eventually looked up at them after he’d made himself a bowl of greek yogurt and blueberries. He held eye contact with each one of them for at least five seconds before furrowing his eyebrows and shrugging. “What? Can I not eat?”

Jean cleared his throat, making Marco glare at him. The tension in the room steadily builds until Connie couldn’t take it cracked a stupid joke that got him teased by Jean and Armin. Mikasa softly laughed along, eyeing Eren as he settles between Armin and Connie.

When he looked up at her, she averted her gaze. Instead of looking at him, she looked at the door. The wall. Marco. Anywhere but Eren.

Her gaze caught on a piece of paper haphazardly taped to the wall. Mikasa squinted to read the blocky text on it.

“What’s going on at Quasimodo?” she asked, looking around the circle. She couldn’t read the finer text below the large letters that spelled out OPEN NIGHT.

Armin hummed in question, looking over at the piece of paper. “Oh, they’re having a night where small artists can go and play for free. It’s gonna last a couple days. We’re gonna be performing on the nineteenth.”

Mikasa hummed as Armin looked at the clock—the only other item decorating the apartment. He stood up and dusted off his pants before excusing himself and going down the same hall Eren had earlier. When he came back, he wore a black polo with the restaurant’s logo above his left breast. He grabbed his keys before saying goodbye to everyone and leaving.

Mikasa assumed Armin must have been the middle friend between her and everyone else because when he left she felt like the four others were staring at her, waiting for her to say something.

“So . . .” Mikasa drew the word out, thinking of what to say. “How has everything been going?”

Jean blew out a breath, leaning back against the wall. “Good enough. We have the space to practice but nowhere to play.”

“That’s just because we haven’t been looking in the right places,” Eren said. He turned his gaze to Jean, one of his eyebrows slightly raised. “We just need to get our name out there. Then people will pay attention to us.”

“People won’t pay attention to us if they don’t know who we are, dipshit.” Jean rolled his eyes. Eren shot him a glare that made it seem like he might kill him later.

Silence fell over the room again. In those few moments, Mikasa’s thoughts wandered to the Instagram page she’d started for her mom’s business and how online sales had shot up.

“Why don’t you get an Instagram?” she suggested. “Or like, Twitter or TikTok or whatever. Some kind of social media to promote yourselves.”

Mikasa felt like shrinking in on herself with the way their eyes turn to her. She felt like their gazes were scrutinizing her, almost judging her for speaking out.

She knew they would never. She only started feeling that way after no one spoke for what feels like hours.

“That’s a good idea,” Marco said. He switched his gaze to meet Eren’s. “Lots of people use it to promote themselves, why don’t we?”

He held Eren’s gaze for a moment. It seemed as though the two were having an argument in their thoughts until finally, Eren exhaled.

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

The topic changed after that. To what, Mikasa didn’t know. What she did know was that she had been indirectly designated to create and (probably) manage the new account, and then later asked directly by Connie since, as he put it, “You’re the only one with the divine, God-given level of intellect and marketing skills to do a fantastic job at managing us.”

She put little effort into it. She’d gone to the bathroom while the remaining four talked about going to bed and as she stood at the sink after washing her hands, made the account heartattack5 on both Instagram and TikTok. She made the profile picture a silly photo she had taken years ago of the five of them on Halloween. In it, they held their hands out and had their eyes closed as if doing an exorcism of sorts. On the floor in front of them was a drawing of a zodiac from a show Mikasa had long forgotten about.

Maybe it wasn’t the best profile picture, but it worked until she could get a better one.

heartattack5 also wasn’t the best username, but she came up with it in the spur of the moment. She knew no one else would have better ideas, so she just went with it. As she was leaving the bathroom she began finding everyone’s profiles and following them.

On her way out of the bathroom, she bumped into Eren.

By that point, the light in the living room was turned off and the only thing brightening the hallway were the slivers that came from beneath two of the bedroom doors and a weak night light that was plugged into the wall.

They stared at each other for a moment. Eren’s piercing green gaze sliced through her, reading her every thought and learning her darkest secrets.

“I told you not to follow us,” he said. He spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the others that had already retreated to their rooms.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” Mikasa slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. She shifted her weight to one of her legs and crossed her arms. “I came here of my own volition, not because of you.”

“And yet this was the first place you came. You didn’t even go to wherever you’re staying first to drop off your bags.”

“Well.” She ended it there. She had tried coming with a defense to whatever Eren might throw at her while she was driving, but her efforts had proven fruitless. Instead of retaliating, she shrugged.

Eren sighed, running a hand through his hair. It had grown out a bit, the ends now resting at his jaw. “Please go home. I don’t want to drag you down with us if we aren’t successful. You have something guaranteed at home.”

“It’s not home without you guys,” she said, though it sounded like she had added guys as an after thought. There was an awkward pause between the final two words, and hearing it made Eren pause.

He looked at her, pressing his lips together. He knew Mikasa tended to lean towards people’s whims and do what they wanted, but goddamn she could be stubborn as hell when she wanted something. She stood in front of him, her feet planted so firmly in place Eren didn’t think a tornado could move her.

He finally exhaled and breathed out, averting his gaze to the seam where the hallway ceiling met the wall. “Fine. Whatever.”

Mikasa bit the inner corner of her lip to keep from smiling. She gave a soft nod, tilting her head down so Eren didn’t see the look of triumph on her face.

She moved to walk around him and gather her things, ready to get out of their hair for the night and sleep in her car or find a hotel, but Eren gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She could feel its warmth through her sweater, and she turned her head.

“Just stay. You’re already here.”

“I don’t want to impose,” she whispered, though after she said it she realized how useless it was to say it. She had already come by completely unannounced and likely overstayed her visit by a few hours.

“It doesn’t matter. You can sleep with me in my room.”

Mikasa stared at him, and for a moment it seemed like she was the one reading Eren’s thoughts and learning his secrets. She gave a soft nod, turning to follow Eren as he opened his bedroom door and flicked on the light.

Unsurprisingly, it was bare. There was nothing up on the walls and two of Eren’s suitcases are open with clothes pouring out of them. There was a pile of boxes in one corner, and in the opposite was a mattress without a frame.

Mikasa held back a chuckle. Eren closed the door behind her, leaving it open a finger’s width, before going to lie down on the bed.

Mikasa awkwardly stood for a moment before joining him. In her mind she made a barrier that neither she nor Eren were to cross that night, and was adamant about keeping it. She laid on her stomach and turned her head away from him, her arms beneath the pillow. Eren laid on his back, staring at the ceiling and thinking, This is why those fuckers gave me the biggest room for myself.

—

In the following days, heartattack5 had gained almost two thousand followers.

Mikasa tried posting consistently. She stayed up at all hours of the day filming content with her phone and then editing the clips in the late hours of the night.

She’d changed the profile picture to one where Connie sat at his drums, Eren sitting in front of them while the other three leaned against Connie. She tried to get video of all of them playing their respective instruments and nicely framed photos to post.

She’d made a routine. She would wake up at the crack of dawn, around the time Armin returned home from his shift, and shower. She’d eat breakfast and spend a couple minutes each morning either pacing around the empty living room or laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling or scrolling on her phone. When the first person woke up—Marco, usually—she would chat with them for a bit before she began recording and taking pictures.

As the others woke up she would record them, too. She found that people enjoyed short slice of life videos alongside the more planned ones, so some days she would just record an exchange between all of them for hours.

Then, she had dinner in the room she shared with Eren. She sat crisscross on the floor and sifted through the video she’d taken while she ate. She had a pile of drafts saved up in both Instagram and TikTok, and she was always adding more.

Then, later in the night when she came out from the room to bid Armin a good shift and talked at the dinghy table with everyone else, she finally put her phone down. She’d leave it in the room on the charger and tried her best to push follows and views and likes and comments from her mind while she talked to her friends.

When they would start going to bed one by one, Eren was always the last to leave. He stayed awake with her until she was ready to go to bed, even if his eyes were dropping and he kept jerking awake. She’d finally laugh and say she’s going to bed even if she wasn’t tired, just so Eren could get the sleep he needed.

And at night, when Eren was snoring so loudly it practically shook the walls, Mikasa unlocked her phone and checked the account. When the numbers of new people were low, it left a harsh blow to her self esteem.

She would finally put her phone facedown on the wood floor and close her eyes, trying not to let the numbers or new ideas to get more people flood her mind.

The barricade she’d mentally made that first day she slept in the same bed as Eren was always there, but every night it was knocked down. Every morning she woke up with some part of Eren tied up in her, whether it be their arms pressed together or his hands on her waist or her head tucked into his chest.

In the morning when she found out where they had let their guard fall, she felt at peace.

—

“Come see us at Quasimodo tonight!”

In the video, Eren screamed at Mikasa’s phone before she panned over to Connie, who had his tongue out and his pointer and pinky finger on one hand up. It was short and ended there, but Mikasa had added a soft overlay of Heart Attack’s song “The Bends” to the background.

It was the best performing video she’d made, and it had only been posted at ten that morning.

Mikasa smiled with pride every time she checked her phone and the numbers skyrocketed. It started at 50, and then 100, and then seemingly out of nowhere shot up to 2,000 somewhere between eleven and noon. By the time the band was at Quasimodo getting ready for their gig, she was beaming at the white 37,000 in the bottom left corner, a number that went up every time she refreshed the page.

She didn’t know what it was about this one that did so well, but she wasn’t complaining.

Mikasa sat by herself at a table close to the stage. She could barely see whoever was playing beyond the bodies crowded together in front of her, but when she heard Eren’s voice she would move.

She kept her phone face up on the table, reading every single notification that came up on her phone.

Eren, peeking through the curtain during an intermission while the drums were being set up, watched Mikasa obsess over her phone. He noticed the way her eyes seemed to sparkle at the growing numbers, and some part of him thought to talk to her about it later.

But he moved his gaze around, and at a table at the back of the club spotted a blond man sitting with one other person. Eren didn’t recognize the brown-haired woman, but he knew who the blond was immediately.

“Guys.” Eren turned toward the others, the faintest grin on his face. “Erwin fucking Smith is here.”

Connie’s eyes practically popped out of his head with how much he had widened them. “Are you being serious right now?” he asked in disbelief.

“The Erwin Smith? Owner of Scout Records?”

Eren nodded. Jean lowly whistled and straightened himself. Armin ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath that fell somewhere between a chuckle and a gasp of disbelief.

Marco, who had been drinking water, set the plastic bottle down. He put a hand on Jean’s and Eren’s shoulders, gently squeezing. When Eren turned his head, Marco had a vibrant smile on his face.

“This is our chance guys. We can finally break through and get on the radio or something.”

“That’s if he likes our music,” Armin pointed out. Everyone turned to him. “If he doesn’t then there’s no chance.”

“Which is why we make him like it.” Back to Eren. “We play the best we’ve ever played. We aren’t in Mom’s garage anymore. We put our hearts and souls into this.”

A moment of hesitance passed. Eren met everyone’s gaze, holding each of them for ten seconds. His piercing green eyes seemed to look into their minds, reading every desire they’ve ever had.

Finally, they all slowly nodded. An agreement passed between them and they exchanged a smile. When the stagehand called to them to say they were ready, Jean began lazily playing a quiet tune on his bass.

Eren was the first out. He grabbed the microphone and scanned the crowd. He noticed Mikasa walk closer to where the band stood to take pictures, and his smile widened when he met Erwin Smith’s gaze.

“This is Heart Attack.” Eren flashed his straight teeth again, winking at one of the girls closer to the front, before Connie started the upbeat tune to their debut song, Armin joining in soon after.

Eren tried his best not to let his gaze wander to the booth Erwin sat at. He tried to keep his stare on the wall or the people at their tables, but he always found his eyes moving back to Erwin.

Not knowing what to do every time they made eye contact, Eren winked at him. Erwin had no reaction except a subtle eyebrow raise, and Eren immediately regretted his decision.

After they had bowed and strolled off, Eren ran a hand over his face and groaned. The group of them found Mikasa on the ground floor and walked to the table she’d reserved. Eren pressed his forehead against the wood and began tapping his foot against the floor.

“Dude, what is wrong?” Connie asked. He had ordered a glass that had some caramel colored liquid Eren couldn’t identify and was playing with the straw between his fingers. “You are like, stressing. Which is understandable since Erwin Smith is here, but-”

“I winked at him.” Eren lifted his head. From the corner of his eye he would see Jean lifting his glass to his lips.

“Huh? Who?”

“Erwin Smith.”

Jean laughed, lowering his glass and covering his mouth with a fist. He cleared his throat to cover his laugh and looked away. Eren shot him a glare.

“Why did you wink at Erwin Smith?” Jean teased.

“I don’t know. It just . . . happened.”

“How do you just happen to wink at someone?” Armin asked. He smiled, teasing Eren, “Was there something in your eye?”

“No! It just . . . I don’t know! But I’m scared. What if he’s homophobic, man? What if that’s the only reason he won’t talk to us is because he thinks I’m gay?”

Marco tensed, but the subtle way he straightened his shoulders and tightened his grip on his cup went unnoticed by everyone except Jean.

Jean’s eyes moved to look at him. He didn’t turn his head, but when he saw the fake smile on Marco’s face as he made a comment Jean didn’t hear, he gently squeezed Marco’s knee.

A soft guitar melody filled the air, a stark contrast to the harsh music that had previously filled the club. Marco turned his head to the stage where a girl in a short cream dress, her hair tied out of her face with a red ribbon, sat on a stool and strummed her guitar. He watched for a moment before turning back to the table.

“I genuinely think I might die,” Eren said. He was leaned back in his chair now, his legs splayed so far out beneath the table that they hit Connie in the shins.

“Sit up right.” Connie playfully kicked Eren’s legs. “Your legs are too damn long for you to relax like that.”

The group laughed. When Armin turned his head to watch the girl on the stage, his gaze instead caught on Erwin Smith, who was standing up from his table.

His eyes followed the man, watching as he bowed to the woman sitting with him and shrugged on his coat. The woman smiled and waved at Erwin as he left the booth, and Armin’s eyes widened as he realized that Erwin Smith was walking towards them.

Armin turned his head to face the table so quickly he thought he pulled a muscle. He coughed to catch the table’s attention, and when they turned to him he quietly said, “Erwin Smith is walking this way.”

Eren’s eyes slightly widened. He craned his neck to see around Armin and immediately straightened when he saw that his friend was telling the truth. He slapped his hand against the table as of warning Jean and Connie to stop bickering.

He cracked a stupid joke right as Erwin began passed behind him. No one even understood what he had said, which earned him questioning glances from everyone at the table before Erwin positioned himself between Eren and a Mikasa’s chairs.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said. He placed a hand on the back of Erin’s chair, making sure his presence was noticed.

As if anyone wouldn’t notice if Erwin fucking Smith was looking directly at them.

“Nah, you’re fine,” Eren said. He regretted it immediately because who talks to a celebrity like that? He cleared his throat, trying to put up a front that said he knew what he was doing here. “Can I help you?”

Erwin opened his coat, reaching into a pocket that must have been inside and pulled out a business card. He held it out to Eren. “I’m the owner of Scout Records. I really enjoyed what you boys did tonight. I’d like you to sign with the company, if it interests you.”

Eren, who had been looking up at Erwin as he spoke, moved his gaze to the business card. It had a sleek design, one single dark green line moving across the entire card underneath the words Scout Records. Beneath all of that was his name and basic information, including an email and phone number to contact.

“Of course, I’ll contact you again at a later date if you haven’t decided, but this is your choice.” Erwin moves his gaze from Eren’s and meets that of everyone else around the table. “All of you.” His stare paused on Mikasa. “We can even find a spot for your publicist.”

Mikasa’s heart skipped a beat as Eren nodded. Publicist. She didn’t consider herself that, but the title had a nice ring to it.

Erwin bowed his head, bidding the group goodbye before turning and walking out of the jazz club.

The group waited until the door had closed behind Erwin before they started cheering. This was it. This was their shot.

Maybe they really did have a chance in this industry.

—

When they returned to their apartment that night, they popped open a cheap bottle of wine and drank from plastic cups to celebrate. They spilled the liquid haphazardly on the floor and counters, but didn’t bother to clean it up. Even Mikasa had set her phone to the side and allowed her head to become buzzed.

She regretted it the next morning, of course, because she was a lightweight and the headache she woke up with felt as if it was splitting her skull apart. She knew she woke up much later than she normally did because Eren wasn’t beside her in the bed and she could hear voices coming through the wall from the living room.

She stood and stretched, pulling a hoodie on over her tank top before opening the bedroom door.

“No, if we call him right now we’ll seem desperate.”

“Aren’t you the one that has been praying we’d get noticed for years? And when we finally do you don’t want to jump on that opportunity?”

“I’m playing smart here, Jean. If we contact them too early then we’ll seem excitable and naïve.”

“Please, Eren. He offered us. We won’t look pathetic if we call and say we accept his offer.”

Eren exhaled. Mikasa saw him press his lips into a thin line. “We have to play the long game-“

“If we play the long game then we’re gonna get dropped-“

“What would you know about this shit anyway? It’s not like you have a fucking degree in-”

“And you know anything more than I do?”

Their voices continued raising and they continued talking over each other. The pain in Mikasa’s head became so evident she could feel it in her fingers. Her ears were ringing, and she had one finger pressed to the inner cartilage of her ear as she aggressively grabbed Eren by she shoulder.

“Shut up,” she said, letting him go. “It’s too early for the two of you to be arguing, and I’m pretty sure everyone else is still sleeping.”

Mikasa walked over to the fridge and opened it, taking out the carton of eggs. She grabbed a cup from the cabinet. She pulled two eggs from the carton and spilled both of them into the cup. After throwing the shells away, she grabbed hold of the cup before taking a deep breath and downing its contents in one go.

Her face scrunched and her eyes closed. She held the last but in her mouth, reluctant to swallow before gulping it down. When she opened her eyes, she saw that both Eren and Jean were looking at her with the most horrified expressions me she had ever seen.

Mikasa gulped one more time, trying to get the taste out of her mouth, before washing the glass and saying, “What?”

Eren blinked. Jean ran a hand through his hair.

“You just drank two raw eggs,” Eren said.

Mikasa shrugged, setting the glass down in the sink and turning around. “So?”

Eren blinked again, though this time it was more aggressive. He put his hands on the edge of the faux marble counter. “You just drank. Two raw eggs,” he repeated.

“What the hell is wrong with you.” Jean jokes, though it seemed as though some part of him was genuinely bewildered about what could possibly make Mikasa drink raw eggs.

“Yeah.” Mikasa leaned against the sink behind her and crossed her arms and ankles in front of her. “It’s a remedy for hangovers. My mom used to do it when she had one, and that one time I came back from a night of drinking she gave it to me. It worked, so.” She shrugged again.

Eren blinked a few more times before shaking his head and straightening. Jean, however, still looked baffled at Mikasa’s actions, but he eventually shook it off and continued eating the bowl of cereal in front of him.

Mikasa blinked a couple more times in confusion before shaking her head and continuing about her day. She took a seat at the dinghy table and stared at the grain in the wood. She wondered for a moment how her parents were doing, but when she reached for her phone to text them, she realized that she had no idea where her phone was.

It wasn’t in her room. If it was then it would have been the first thing she checked in the morning. She scanned the table and didn’t find it there either.

Panic began settling in as her gaze frantically traveled around the room. She didn’t want to tell anyone because a phone isn’t all that when you really think about it. Except for her it is. That’s her life. Her job. Her livelihood, if she loses her phone then she loses her memory card and she’ll never get it back.

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.

“Are you looking for this?” Jean came up beside her and held something in front of her, the familiar polaroid of Mikasa and Eren at their eleventh grade prom catching her eye.

She looked up at Jean as she gently took it from his hands and nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Instinctively, she checked the time. 11:34. It was so much later in the day than she thought.

Jean returned her nod. “Yup.”

He put his hands in the pockets of his sweats, awkwardly standing beside her. Neither of them said anything. Mikasa wanted to break the silence, but she didn’t know how.

“How’s it going with Marco?” she decided to ask. Jean and Marco had never officially came out, but they were obvious enough that the band knew about it—or that something was there, at least. No one was sure if they were officially together or not. Not to mention the way they look at each other when the other isn’t paying attention.

Jean nodded. “Yeah. It’s going good.”

Silence enveloped the room again. It was Mikasa’s fault, really. She shouldn’t have asked such a dry question.

Jean began drumming his fingers against the edge of the counter, the consistent noise driving Mikasa crazy. Her still present headache was not helping.

“I think you guys should call Erwin.” She couldn’t take the silence anymore. Or the tapping. “He’s the one that offered. He wants you guys with his studio.”

Jean blew out a breath. “Yeah. Tell that shit to Eren. That asshole won’t let up.” He crossed his arms and looks up, staring out the window. “He thinks playing the long game will better our chances of going big. You know what’ll help us go big? Accepting the offers we fucking get.”

Fantastic. Mikasa had led Jean on a spiel. At least it was better than his insistent tapping.

“Not to mention it’d better your chance of making it, too. Prove to him that you don’t have to be at home to be successful or happy.”

Jean and Mikasa held each other’s gazes. She always treaded carefully around him, especially with the history of feelings they had. She didn’t quite know if he had gotten over her completely, but his situation with Marco must mean something.

“You should tell him,” Mikasa said. They both know who she was talking about.

“He knows,” Jean replied. “He just . . . I think he’s scared.”

Mikasa nodded. She understood. Maybe not entirely, but she got it. She knew how it felt to pine after your best friend for years, but she didn’t know how it felt to feel that way about a girl. Especially when your family is as religious as Marco’s.

“It’ll be okay,” she said. “Let him figure it out.”

“I know. I’m trying to. I am, but . . . You know me.”

She did. Jean Kirschtein was loud about the love he had and who it was for. He was the love interest in cheesy rom coms that did grand gestures for no reason just to declare his love. He was the one that would run into the airport minutes before your flight to win you back. He was the one that would travel halfway across the world just to give you flowers. He was the one that would somehow gather his graduating class to orchestrate a dance just to ask you to the prom.

He was the one that was being forced into silence to give his love time.

“It just sucks.”

Mikasa offered a soft smile, though it was clear that it did nothing to help. “I know.”

They sit in silence for a bit. It’s not as suffocating and choking as the one before, but there is still that air of tension about it. Jean leaves the main room after he drops his cereal bowl in the sink, the fake ceramic clinking against its metal walls. Mikasa watched him go, waiting until she heard his bedroom door close to pull out her phone.

She pops open the case. Eren had given her Erwin Smith’s business card before they had all started drinking. He said she would keep it safe, and she did.

She flipped it over, copying the number into her phone and holding it up to her ear. She listened as it dialed, biting her nail as she waited. It felt like she sat there forever, and she pulled the phone away to hang up when she was sure no one would answer.

“Erwin Smith’s office. How may I help you?”

Mikasa’s lips stretched into a wide smile as she quickly brought the phone back up to her ear. “Hi, I’m Mikasa Ackerman. I’m calling to talk to Erwin Smith about the offer he extended to the band Heart Attack last night. At Quasimodo.”

She heard shuffling on the other line, before a couple clicks. “Yes, of course. He told me to keep an eye out for your band. I’ll schedule a time for him to contact you. Expect a call at around 2:45, alright?”

Mikasa nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

The woman on the other line gave Mikasa a few more details, such as what number to expect the call from. She made sure to say that Mikasa would not receive a text or email, that it would be a call only from a number Mikasa had to write down to remember.

Two hours later, Mikasa sat in the bathroom hiding from everyone, on the phone with Erwin Smith himself.

—

“You did not,” Eren said after they had received a package. He looked up at Mikasa, who was sitting at the table and eating a bowl of pomegranate seeds.

“What?” She looked up from her phone, hiding a smile. She had seen the box earlier in the day, and only brought it inside for someone else to open and be surprised by.

Eren carried the box over to the table and dropped it, ripping the tape with his keys and opening the cardboard flaps. He revealed emerald green tissue paper wrapped around something else, an envelope with the band name written in gold sitting on top.

In the top corner of the envelope, Scout Records was stamped in capital letters.

Mikasa gasped, feigning surprise as she set her phone down and stood up. She walked next to Eren, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Congratulations!” she said, though it wasn’t convincing. She wasn’t a very good actor, and this situation was no exception.

Eren looked at her, his gaze piercing. “You called them.”

Mikasa nodded. She held Eren’s stare, refusing to back down and apologize. She watched the gears in his head turn before he turned his head, facing the wooden table as he laughed.

He slapped his hand on the table, catching Mikasa by surprise when he also wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

“Thank you so much, Mikasa.” Without thinking, Eren kissed the top of her head. “I think I genuinely love you.”

Mikasa’s cheeks burned. She managed a soft smile as she pulled away enough to look up at Eren’s face. He was beaming, his smile so wide it showed all his teeth and so bright Mikasa swore the room had lit up.

Mikasa’s own smile widened. “Well if we had gone with your timeline then they would have forgotten about the offer. I have a meeting with him in a little bit about terms and conditions and stuff like that.”

“You’re meeting with him?”

Mikasa nodded. “I’m your publicist, aren’t I?”

Eren laughed again—a soft, breathy laugh that made Mikasa’s heart beat so loud she couldn’t hear anything else.

Eren let her go after saying something she didn’t catch. He woke up Jean (who had been sleeping on the couch while watching women’s boxing. Mikasa was positive he just turned something on for background noise) before going down the hall to bother Connie, Armin and Marco.

Their exclamations of happiness soon filled the apartment, and while they were yelling and jumping around, Mikasa slipped into the bedroom she shared with Eren and changed into something more presentable.

She switched her T-shirt and shorts for a black dress that had puffy sleeves. She put striped black tights on beneath it and spent too long deciding whether or not to wear a jacket over everything.

She decided not to, instead throwing it on her side of the bed and looking herself over in the mirror. She flattened stray hairs and fixed a bit of makeup, finally grabbing her bag before walking back out into the main room.

“And would you look at that! Annie Leonhart wins her first ever match fresh out of the Warrior program.”

Mikasa walked to the front door as she looked at the TV. She began slipping on her shoes, tying the laces up as she watched the blonde girl on the screen lift her fists in triumph as she walked around the rink. There were red stripes down her cheeks, ones so bright that Mikasa thought she was bleeding before realizing it was makeup.

“Now, we know that the Marleyan Warriors produce fantastic athletes, but I think this is the most potential we’ve seen in one. Don’t you think, Keith?”

“Absolutely. Annie Leonhart lives up to her title of the Female Titan. She comes in with such a loud presence and makes sure you know she’s there.”

The blonde girl bowed, the camera following as she steps out of the rink and down the walkway. The commentators—Theo Magath and Keith Shadis, Mikasa reads off the screen—continued talking about her performance, replaying clips from her match against a much stockier woman. It was a wonder that Annie won, they were saying.

“What are you watching?” Mikasa asked. She stayed by the door, but spoke loud enough so Jean could hear her from his spot on the couch.

Jean shrugged, muting the TV and standing up. He stretched his arms above his head and groaned. “I just turned something on. It’s women’s boxing, though. I think.”

Mikasa nodded, reaching over to the rack beside the door to grab her keys and wallet. “Okay. I’ll be back. I have a meeting with Erwin, but I’ll bring food later, so don’t eat anything.”

Jean smiled, turning off the TV and looking over at her. “Thank you.”

The corners of Mikasa’s lips tilted up, and she gave another soft nod before opening the door and leaving.

—

Connie’s scream of excitement was so piercing it had a little girl across the street covering her ears, mustering the harshest glare she could towards him.

“Connie, shut the fuck up,” Jean said, swinging an arm around the drummer. “We’re gonna get kicked off the streets.”

“Jean.” Connie gripped Jean’s opposite shoulder, the popsicle in his hand millimeters from falling off its stick and onto the floor. “Not only did we get offered a spot at Scout Records, but Mikasa also called to confirm we still have it. And we do! So now tell me, why shouldn’t I be screaming at the top of my lungs about this?”

Jean rolled his eyes, but a wide smile spread across his face as the two of them found a table to sit at. Marco, Eren, and Armin were still in the store looking for something to eat, so Jean and Connie slid onto the benches across from each other as they waited for a few minutes.

Jean opened his mouth to say something when they settled in, but he saw the rest of the band practically bouncing out of the convenience store with bright smiles on their faces. They were whooping and hollering, careful not to drop their ice creams or popsicles as they jumped around.

Connie joined them, hopping up from his seat and grabbing Marco’s and Eren’s hands. He shook them, his poorly made spongebob popsicle forgotten on the table. It was mostly finished anyway, the only remnants of it being a small pool of flavored water, so Jean picked it up and threw it away.

Someone jumped on him from the side, making Jean lose his balance for a moment. He wrapped his hand around the bar of the trash can before looking over at Marco.

The smile on his face was so wide it showed his dimples. His eyes were shining and his grip around Jean was tight. He was radiant—absolutely perfect in Jean’s eyes.

“We made it,” Marco said breathlessly. There was still the disbelief he had when Eren had originally told them about their record deal in his eyes. “Oh my god, we fucking made it.”

That’s how Jean knew how ecstatic Marco was. He never cursed. Never in a million years did a word as light as crap even leave his lips.

Jean couldn’t help but try and mirror Marco’s smile, but the attempt was fruitless. Nothing could ever shine as bright as this boy he loved so dearly.

“Hell yeah we did.” Jean wrapped his arms around Marco, holding him impossibly closer. “We fucking did it!”

Jean kissed Marco on the cheek in an action that could be passed as chaste, however it was anything but to Jean. Marco hugged Jean impossibly tighter, smiling at him with the soft grin that made Jean fall in love in the first place.

The others pounded on them after that—first Eren with a tackle so aggressive Jean and Marco almost fell over, and then Connie and Armin with pushes that rivaled Eren’s.

They caught themselves before losing their balance, and their laughs rang through the air so loudly that the same little girl Jean had seen glared at them again, this time along with her mother.

They began walking as they separated, Eren and Connie both walking backwards so they could talk without creating an obnoxious line of people.

“Alright guys, let’s talk first studio album. What are we thinking?” Connie held his hands out, welcoming ideas. “Personally, I think we should do the opening track about how birds are government property and are spying on us.”

Eren scrunched his face as Armin chuckled. “What the fuck?” Eren said. “The birds are watching us?”

“Well yeah.” Connie shrugged his shoulders, as if his revelation about birds was as common as grass. “Why don’t you see them in the rain?”

“Because they hide from the rain like any other being with instinct,” Jean said, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Connie pointed at him. “False. It’s actually because the birds are robots, and if they get wet then they sizzle and fucking die.” He tutted. “The government can’t have that.”

Jean and Marco laughed. They stood close together, their hands brushing every now and then.

“We are not making an album about robot birds, Connie,” Eren said. “That is so stupid.”

“Well what do you propose we make it about? Because the only other thing that’s good to write about is love, and I remember you saying very explicitly, ‘Love is a bullshit idea that makes soft sound.’”

Eren gasped dramatically. “I said no such thing.”

“We literally said you should write a song about Mikasa and you went on a whole rant,” Armin said.

Eren rolled his eyes. “I do not want to write sappy love songs. That’s cheesy and none of us have anyone anyway.”

Jean didn’t comment, but he glanced over at Marco. Marco kept his gaze ahead, fondly smiling and switching his gaze to whoever decided to tease Eren about his thing with Mikasa.

That’s when he saw it. A sleek, bright red sports car speeding on the street. The windows were blacked out, but someone’s arm was hanging out of one. Jean squinted, trying to see what they were holding.

The person started to climb out, tightening their grip on the object in their hand. Jean couldn’t recognize any significant features about them except the pale yellow hoodie they wore and the red smeared across their cheeks.

They held the object up, fumbling a bit to keep it in their hand as the car sped around. They howled when they almost dropped it, and lifted it.

It was a gun. The light glinted off the metal of the barrel as they haphazardly pulled the trigger, hitting a spot in the grass.

Jean wrapped his hand around Marco’s elbow. Marco turned his head, about to inquire about what Jean needed just as the bassist was about to tell them they needed to go.

But he didn’t get the chance. His words got caught in his throat as another gunshot sounded and Marco stumbled against him.

Jean held him up, trying to steady him with Armin’s help as Connie and Eren looked around. Eren fumbled with his phone as he tried calling the police after he spotted the car. When Jean pulled his hand away to readjust his hold, bright red blood, warm and sticky, stared up at him.

BANG!

JEAN: We all watched him die. He just crumbled against us and . . .

ARMIN: Blood was coming out of his mouth. He was choking on it trying to talk and I- [sniff] There was nothing any of us could do. We just stood there trying to help but we couldn’t.

EREN: I think about it, sometimes. Especially when I’m alone at night. I think that if I had been faster with my phone then the police would have been there faster, and maybe we could have saved them.

JEAN: The only thing I saw when I looked up was blonde hair. Whoever shot Marco had already gotten back in the car while it was speeding away.

CONNIE: Marco was . . . He was everything to us. Heart Attack lost their heart that day. [wipes tears] It was fucking hard after that.

EREN: We spent a long time not doing anything. It would have been longer if Erwin hadn’t threatened us with losing our record deal. We came up with “Holiday.”

ARMIN: Marco wrote the keyboard track for that. Before he died. It was the last song of ours he had something to do with.

JEAN: [voice cracking] I need a minute.

sorry this is so late life got unexpectedly busy 😭

anyways hope you guys have a fantastic rest of your day <3

TAGLIST: @arlerts-angel @conniesrockstargf @fvckingeetar @pluckyduxck @hoejosblindfold @beaniebaby12 if you's like to join the taglist please comment or DM to let me know!

next part >>

[thikkiesixx]

Another Eddie Munson Fic Rec

This is my 3rd fic recommendation list, and i could probably make so many more.

Smut = *

May contain some Steddie fics, I cannot lie i love them.

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the "yes" policy ~ summary: After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining. im a WHORE for mechanic eddie, add single dad eddie?? nothing can get better than this. multipart fic! written by @pinkrelish

seeing stars * ~ summary: A new girl with a mysterious air to her and a questionable past comes to Hawkins. She’s armed with a gauntlet of jewelry and the sharpest wit Eddie’s ever come across. After a chance encounter at a party, Eddie becomes a bit smitten with her. The problem is, she’s an unreadable brick wall when she’s sober. Will Eddie’s attentive persistence help him break down the walls she’s put up to protect herself from not getting hurt? Or will Eddie be the one who ends up with wounds to hide? A story about learning lessons the hard way when it comes to letting people in. Vulnerability and honesty will always be rewarded. Even if it doesn’t feel that way at first. posting this one again bc honestly it is so good and i feel as if it is completely underrated. this author is so so good at writing and is also just a sweet person. PLS READ IM BEGGING. written by @boogiewrites

rumor * ~ summary: you share with Eddie, your older neighbour, the rumours you've heard about him. They might not be all fictitious... pretty spicy. eddie has a tongue ring and a dick piercing. written by @msgexymunson

i put a spell on you ~ summary: Eddie stumbles upon a house in the middle of the woods that contains something he never expected. What happens next is a lot of crazy shit, that takes him on a rollercoaster of emotions. But what he got out of it was a pretty great girlfriend and confirmation that magic was real, and badass. written by @farfromharry

simple rules ~ summary: eddie doesn’t have his life together any better than the next person, but for his daughter, he fakes it well. all he really needed was balance, but he wasn’t sure that even existed—not until you. im such a sucker for dad eddie. its so cute. will hit everytime. written by @munsonquinns amazing writer, their stuff never misses.

bad things *~ summary: You’re the head cheerleader and you fuck Eddie Munson in a bathroom at a Halloween party. written by @goldenbuckyyy

camera shy * ~ summary: eddie’s a popular camboy, along with your best friend steve. one lucky introduction manages to turn your life upside down, arguably, for the better. camboy eddie is near and dear to my heart. written by @munsonquinns

say yes to heaven * ~ summary: when you don’t know what to be for halloween, eddie gives you the perfect idea without even knowing it. he always calls you his angel, so you decide to become one and surprise him for halloween. the events that take place after he sees you are far from angelic and show the devilish side that eddie brings out of you. written by @lilacletter

love bites* ~ summary: eddie munson is super weird. he holds your hand too tight, he has a fascination with your neck, and he can’t give a hickey to save his life. good thing you’re super weird, too. vampire eddie. written by the amazing @luveline anything written by this author is simply phenomenal.

this town’s for the record now ~ summary: 'we’ve been friends since childhood, and I’ve accepted that we’re just not meant to be. I’ve moved on and encouraged you to follow your dreams. I didn’t know that your dream was me.’ written by @harringtown

pretty persuasion * ~ summary: You are the proud owner of Hawkins Records and have been for some years now, but dwindling sales mean that you might be forced to close the store that you love so much. Help comes in the form of Eddie Munson, former friend and frontman of a very successful band, but since the two of you hadn’t parted in the best way 12 years ago there is no telling what will happen when you reunite again. absolutely fuckin LOVED THIS HOLY SHIT. pls read. so cute. written by @serasvictoria

somethin unholy* ~ summary: steddie smut, her boys, their girl, it was time to give in. written by @upsidedownwithsteve

fuck me like you hate me* ~ summary: reader begrudgingly ends up crushing on eddie and she is forced to admit it to him in the middle of some very steamy hate sex. written by msgexymunson

rainbow lights ~ summary: A bad trip at your local bar has you seeking out Eddie Munson for help. And he'll be damned if he can't make you feel better. written by @retrobutterflies yall already know this author is so good. i think theyve been on all of my rec lists

the black cat* ~ summary: you and eddie are practically in love with each other, but don’t dare admit it. When the two of you run into each other at steve’s halloween party and he catches a glimpse of your costume, the dams holding back your guys’ pride, break. written by yeonjuns-beanie

do you wanna touch me?* ~ summary: When you and Eddie take a different route in the Upside Down, you come across a strange fungus that leaves you with some unintended side effects. i <3 sex pollen storylines. written by @chestharrington

headliners* ~ summary: Eddie Munson was famous. And an asshole. You were also famous. And a Bitch. You had both been reading each other's lives through headlines for the last five years, so then what happens when you both start to miss out on life milestones? THIS IS SOME GOOD SHIT. JUST READ IT. written by @sequincowgrrrl

forbidden fruit* ~ summary: something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most. written by @munsonquinns

the jar* ~ summary: Reader had a friends with benefits relationship with Eddie. Eddie finds the “hookup jar” after one of their nights together. written by @sweetyyhippyy

faster* ~ summary: Reader goes to watch one of Eddie's most important races but when a dangerous maneuver almost ends in disaster, she helps Eddie calm down in the only way she can. racecar driver eddie???? are you kidding???? thats so sexy. written by @pxrxcxa absolutely love this author omg

kaleidoscope ~ summary: after the death of your father, you and your fourteen year old sister move into the forest hills community. your neighbor, eddie, is very kind, very helpful, and very pretty. things between you and your sister are tense as you learn how to take care of her and how to allow her to grow. written by @newlips

i hate you ~ summary: You and Eddie Munson know exactly how you feel about each other. Until a moment changes everything and you embark on a journey of discovery about your relationship. written by @violetrainbow412-blog

made for lovin you* ~ summary: after years of silently pining for your best friend, you finally accept a date at your favorite dive bar. but things never go as planned, do they? alternatively, jealous eddie, too many whiskey shots, and a friendship shattering, almost confession that leads to some delicious smut. written by @xechowritesx

all i ever wanted ~ summary: Eddie has always been your best friend, the person you'd much rather spend your time with than going out on dates, but he swears he never wants to get married and likes to play the wingman for you, so you've come to terms with the fact that things will always just be platonic between you...or will they? written by @denim-mixtapes

friday the 13th ~ summary: you and eddie have a standing best friends date every friday the 13th to watch your favorite horror movies. after you get asked out on a date for the same day, eddie is worried you forgot about him. written by @satelliteddie

disjointed* ~ summary: Nurse!Reader is reunited with her high school crush in the emergency room. written by @boomhauer

this is how it starts* ~ summary: you’re an aspiring writer who gets a chance to interview the frontman of corroded coffin. he’s not shy about taking an interest in you. written by @chainsawmunson

no other will do ~ summary: You're home from college for the holidays. Eddie's playing a show and he wants you to be there. How can you say no to the boy you've been in love with since freshman year? written by @sanguineterrain

i want your video* ~ summary: You had to make your ex pay for what he did, to you and his former fellow Hellfire party member. There's only one person that can truly help you with that. written by @thefreak-thebanished

a special surprise* ~ summary: Reader surprises Eddie by wearing lingerie for him… for the very first time ever. written by @whoahoney

cherry stems and strawberries* ~ summary: When your brothers best friend takes you by surprise after a interesting movie night. written by @86-babyy

｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡｡･:*˚:✧｡

do you guys like steddie??? bc i can make a whole separate post with just steve x eddie.

[inklessletter]

Leave all your love and your longing behind

Pairing: steddie | WC: 1.8k | TW: eddie lives, not canon compliant, hurt/comfort, complicated break up, the one that got away, right person wrong time, it gets worse before it gets better, eventually happy ending, multipart/chapter

It always starts the same, doesn't it? Steve and Eddie grow closer after hell almost swallows Hawkins. And there's this aftermath, this brief period in which no one dares to think about the future because after everything it is something bizarre to think about. And it is so easy to get caught up in that shiny, fragile bubble where no one has to think about stupid things like money or school. And it is in that haze when they fall madly in love.

Because of course they do. 

But the future does come anyway, and school resumes, and some of them decide to move to another state for college. Most of them need it. Most hearts break. The Byers come back to Hawkins just to finish the job and they go away again, and with them, the Wheelers go out too. 

Robin tells Steve that she's going to leave for college. She asks him if he wants to go with her, that there's a place for him wherever she goes, and for Eddie, too. Steve hugs her, and kisses her, and tells her that he can’t leave. 

That one destroys Steve. That night Eddie holds him tight and makes no comment when silent tears that clearly Steve fights back roll down his temples. When he finally asks with a strained, wet, husky voice, to no one in particular “they’re all gonna leave me eventually, aren’t they?” Eddie shuts his eyes as hard as he can and hugs him tighter.

Eddie doesn’t really know how to make him understand that they’re not leaving him. He doesn’t know how to get that abandonment from under his skin, and ironically wants to skin his parents alive for imprinting that there, for making it so easy for him to believe that his presence is made to be only temporary.

That idea is still there when two years later, Dustin goes away for college. This time, Steve doesn’t cry. He smiles, and makes sure he’s got everything packed and they exchange annoyed sighs, but they hug so fiercely despite their sarcastic retorts and Eddie has never had any siblings, but he sees those two and he knows what it should be like.

But no, he doesn't cry. He turns to Eddie with a sad smile once the van is no longer on sight and goes back to work.

Eddie smiles and asks him if he’s okay, and even if he’s not, because Eddie can tell, Steve nods and goes away after kissing him on the lips.

And he stays there, watching him go, not knowing many things. Especially how to tell Steve that he, too, needs to leave Hawkins.

Eddie has no future in Hawkins. He will always be miserable there, always the first to blame, always the origin of every sin, his windows always broken, his car vandalized, unable to keep a job. It’s been years and that godforsaken place still treats him like a murderer. He’s persona non grata, and his uncle, too.

Of course Eddie has to leave.

And he is torn apart because in this strange time, in this bubble, Steve has fallen in love with his hometown again. Eddie won’t tell Steve how much that hurts because those were the same people that once wanted his head on a spike. At a certain level, they still do. At least they’re not violent anymore, they have to bear with him existing there.

But Steve, oh, he's seen first hand innocent people lose their homes, their siblings. He has seen people losing hope and their eyes going dull and sad and he has left his skin and bones behind to help them out. He helped the kids that couldn't get away from the summer in this hellhole and made a basketball team, and organized little tournaments just for them. And he's loved there. Kids love him, and he loves helping kids. He’s helped them and their families more than anyone else there. He brought happiness and children laughing and cheering back to open spaces.

He has a purpose there. Kids are his purpose.

And Eddie is no fool, he knows that. He shares the bed with Steve who stores stars in his eyelids, and smiles talking about the kids, and what he did and didn't do, and Eddie hates the fact that he can't be there because no one but Steve and Lucas actually want him there.

Eddie hates that Steve knows that too, he sees the watery smile in Eddie's face when Steve tells him about his day, and the sadness in his heart bleeding into the voice he uses to say that he's happy that Steve had such a great day, and that he loves him.

They both know, and neither of them has the strength to really stop it. 

They have no future. 

And they both know.

One day, Steve comes home and Eddie has packed everything. Sometimes, Eddie wishes Steve didn’t come home early that day, that he could leave without a trace. They hadn’t talked about it before, and Eddie hated, hated how he saw himself reflected in Steve’s eyes. He wanted so badly to ask him to follow him, because he couldn’t stay and both knew that. But the picture of Steve happy with his kids, telling Eddie everything at the end of the day, beaming—No, no. Eddie couldn’t ask Steve. Eddie wouldn’t, not now that he was happy.

Who the fuck was Eddie anyway to even think about asking him that, huh? Who the fuck did he think he was? No.

No.

No.

They just stare into each other, and Steve smiles, because after everything, they both know that it is not a lack of love. They know for sure that they would die for each other, because they once almost did, and they would do it again. That haze is broken and the future is now a thing, just not for them.

And they both know, but Eddie wishes Steve didn’t, because when he says ‘thank you for staying so long’ Eddie can do nothing but crack.

Eddie is cracked now because he’s hurting him and Steve is letting himself be hurt.

So, no. Eddie doesn’t ask Steve to follow him. 

Steve doesn’t ask Eddie to stay.

They stare at each other hovering over a crack bigger and scarier than any other that has threatened Hawkins before.

Both know that they’re not just breaking up. Oh, no. It hurts Eddie at a core level that Steve knows him too damn well to not touch him, and not saying ‘I love you’, but instead asking him, begging him, really not to become a stranger.

It hurts Eddie, because he can’t just keep in touch.They’re not just breaking up. Oh, no. No, to Eddie, this is more. Eddie leaving Hawkins is Eddie leaving his own name behind, it’s him breaking up with his scattered, found family and asking them not to look for him, because he knows what a terrible person he is for making Steve sad. No, Eddie deserves to lose them all. If Eddie leaves, it’s Eddie who must suffer, and, well, yes, he’s running again, but he’s also facing what comes after.

Loneliness.

He has to stop in the middle of the road because he can’t stop crying. He considers making a U turn and coming back to Steve, but he’s miserable there. He’s no one. He’s not dead but he feels on a daily basis that he wishes he was.

He forces to remind himself that he’s doing this because otherwise he’s not going to have a future. He forces himself to believe that he only needs time for him, for this crack to heal. 

For him to be okay.

It’s funny when years after, he eventually is. Okay, that is. 

He becomes a writer. He writes about adventures and publishes under a pseudonym. He lives in a coastal town, because big cities are way too much for him and people scare him. He's there, and no one knows him and he's happy. He tried Chicago for a while, it’s just not for him. 

He's content.

It all goes to shit when he sees Robin one day, she's passing by his town, and his whole world crashes, because it happens that Robin doesn't hate him for breaking his soulmate's heart eleven years ago. No, she's friendly, and awkward, and she's just how he remembers her, like time hasn’t passed on her. She’s a music teacher now, and has just broken up with her girlfriend of two months. She makes jokes about her dating life, and Eddie laughs with her, unsure. He tells her ‘at least you’ve got one’ and she laughs. They drink a second beer, she pays.

Then Eddie asks her about them. Robin speaks of Dustin becoming a teacher in California, and Jonathan owning a tiny record store that is going bigger because he has two employees working for him. He talks about Erica being valedictorian at her career and Mike and Will living together now. He talks about Nancy coming from Afghanistan for the weekend because it's that week in which the whole bunch meet together.

And this year, it's about Steve, because they're all headed to Indianapolis, where there is a friendly basketball tournament between schools all over the State. It is a big thing, apparently, and Steve is representing Hawkins. Sinclair is their best player, because of course he is. Robin says that it may be a big opportunity for both of them, maybe this is the year that Lucas will have a big offer, and there are a lot of people interested in both. Lucas and Steve.

Max is still there, she never left Hawkins. Eddie gapes when he hears that Lucas and her got married last spring, he never thought of her as the one who wants to marry.

And Robin then casually invites him to come, to see them. She says it'll be fun, and everyone will be happy to see him.

Eddie tells her that not everyone. And Robin takes his hand and assures him that ‘yes, Eddie. Everyone.’

It's when Eddie dares to ask if she's really "passing by", and Robin just smiles. She leaves an envelope to him that he only dares to open when she's already gone after they hug tight.

"No pressure" it's written on the back. He opens it. It's a train ticket, and a reservation in a camp where, apparently, everyone is staying.

In Indianapolis.

The train leaves the following day.

Eddie wonders if going there is the right thing to do, but he’s doing that when he's already in the train, watching the landscapes move fast through the window.

He closes his eyes, and sighs, wishing with all his heart that he’s not a stranger to them.

To him.

To Steve.

---

@mentallyundone

[bridgyrose]

Ruby is dared to kiss a bunch of people for a weapon upgrade. With a lot of reluctance, she goes for it. Include your favorite Ruby ships if you'd like.

(Alright, because of a plan I have for this, this will be a multiparter with the way I write.)

Ruby paused for a moment, still not believing what she had heard. “I-I thought you said that scope was free.” 

“And it is,” Emerald said with a smirk. “Yours for the taking, no cash necessary, just you doing me a favor.” 

“Yeah but-” 

“Then I guess you dont want it, do you?” 

“I do!” Ruby’s eyes darted to the scope in Emerald’s hand, her heart thumping in her chest at the thought of losing a scope that would let her see heat signatures, making it easier to see her team in areas with dense brush. But what Emerald was asking her to do… “And… how would you know that I’ve done it?” 

Emerald put the scope back into her pack and pulled out a tube of green lipstick. “I’ll see them when they’re marked.” 

“And if they wash the lipstick off?” 

“Dont worry about that. All you have to worry about is making sure to go through this list and give each one of them a kiss.”

Ruby slowly took the list and lipstick from Emerald, slowly reading over the names. Weiss. Pyrrha. Nora. Coco. Velvet. Cinder. A short list of names, but not easy people to just walk up to and ask for a kiss. “And… if I’m unable to kiss them?” 

“A dare is a dare. If you cant fulfill it, then can you say that you completed it?” 

“I… no…” 

“Then be a good girl and make due on your dare.” 

Ruby slowly nodded and looked over the list again, trying to figure out the best way to get a kiss from each person. Pyrrha and Nora would be the easiest, both were pretty nice and if she were to explain what its for, she was sure they’d be okay with it. Weiss… was harder to gauge on how she’d feel about it. While she was getting closer to the heiress, there was still that fear about her laughing at the idea that she was dared to kiss anyone. Coco, Velvet, and Cinder on the other hand… any attempt on getting close to them was bound to be ripe with ridicule, or even just being pushed away. Velvet could be convinced, Coco, not so much. And Cinder… even the thought of getting close to her sent chills down her spine. 

Though, the more she looked at the list, the more she was disappointed that Blake wasnt on it. Her heart started to flutter at the thought of trying to get a kiss from her, her legs going weak as she stood up on her tiptoes, lost in a daydream about getting that close to Blake. For a moment, she felt she could do anything, until she was brought crashing back to reality by Weiss’s voice. 

“Ruby, what are you doing?” Weiss asked. 

Ruby quickly smiled at Weiss and rubbed the back of her head, holding the lipstick and list behind her back. “I-I was looking for you!” 

Weiss rolled her eyes and started to walk, grabbing hold of Ruby’s arm and dragging her along. “We’re going to be late to class if you dont hurry.” 

“Lunch just finished, so we have a little time.” Ruby pulled her arm out of Weiss’s grip and paused for a moment as she thought about the list. “A-actually, Weiss… I… I have something I need to talk to you about.” 

“Alright, what is it?” 

“Have… have you ever had a first kiss?” Ruby asked. She took a step back as she watched Weiss turn around with a look that almost said “Run if you want to live,” though it was clear that Weiss meant anything except that with how she held her arm close to her chest. 

“I have. Why? Is there someone that’s caught your eye?” 

“Well… sorta… but I…” Ruby took a breath and stepped closer to Weiss. “I… I was hoping you could help me.” 

“Help you… with a first kiss?” 

Ruby nodded and looked away. “I”m not entirely sure I know what I’m doing and… well… since you know and this isnt exactly something I can just ask Yang about-” 

“You need help with making sure you dont mess anything up, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

Weiss rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “I can teach you after class.” 

“Really-” 

“On one condition. You do not tell anyone that I helped you.” 

Ruby smiled and nodded., pinching her thumb and pointer finger together and dragging them across her lips. “My lips will be sealed about it.” 

“Good, now lets get to class.” 

Ruby smiled and followed after Weiss, a blush starting to creep across her cheeks at the mere thought of doing anything like this. She slowed her steps as she caught a glimpse of Pyrrha out of the corner of her eye, her heart skipping a beat. She shook her head and continued forward, following Weiss to class. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Quit moving and just sit still,” Weiss said as sat down on her bed. “You’re acting way too eager for this.” 

Ruby stopped her bouncing leg and pulled out the green lipstick from her pack. “S-sorry, I’m just… nervous.” 

“And the lipstick?” 

“Just something I want to try.” 

“And you’re sure you want to use green?” 

Ruby paused for a moment as she looked over the green lipstick, her fingers starting to tremble a bit. Of course she couldnt say it was a dare, not after Weiss agreed to let her do a practice kiss. “I-I’m just trying a different color for a change. I have plenty of black and red lipstick already, I figured a light green might be a different change of pace.” 

Weiss sighed. “Alright, put it on and I’ll teach you how to kiss someone.” 

Ruby smiled a bit and quickly applied the lipstick, making sure to use her pocket mirror to make sure she didnt apply it wrong. She hated how the green looked on her lips, but she wasnt one to back down because of a dare, especially for an upgrade for Crescent Rose. Once she was finished, she gave a small smile to Weiss and leaned forward a bit. “Okay, so… I just… pucker up and go for it, right?” 

“Yes, but there is a bit more to it.” Weiss put a hand on top of Ruby’s and leaned in slowly. “You need to go slow, make the moment last. That lucky guy needs to know that this is going to be the best he’s going to get until you’re comfortable with him.” 

Ruby blushed when she felt Weiss put a hand against her cheek, her breath caught in her throat as she followed Weiss’s motions, slowly moving forward and puckering up to meet her lips. Once they touched, she felt a shock, and then a rush of heat run down her spine as her aura flickered for a brief moment. She pulled back from the kiss, feeling lightheaded for a moment before the feeling seemed to pass. 

“Are you okay?” Weiss asked as she pulled her hand from Ruby’s cheek. “You seem a bit pale.” 

“I’m fine.” Ruby answered as she put up a smile. “Thank you for the lesson Weiss.” 

“Now, who’s the guy you like? I promise I wont tell Yang anything.” 

“There isnt… exactly… a guy…” Ruby answered back shyly. “I-its complicated. But… thank you for this. I know it probably wasnt easy for you.” 

“Just as long as you dont go telling anyone that you kissed me, I’ll be fine.” Weiss pulled out her scroll and sighed. “Though, I have to admit, it was nice to kiss someone who wasnt after me for my name.” 

“Dont worry, I wont tell anyone.”

[browneyedgirly93]

Like An Autumn Breeze

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Summary: You are the youngest Archeron sister only 16 years old when you are shoved into the cauldron along with your two eldest sisters. You quickly learn that you are mated to the heir of The Autumn Court. 

Eris x Reader

Warnings: fear?

Word Count: 1562 A/N: This is my first multipart fic! I hope you enjoy it, I know that this premise has been done a ton but I hope you enjoy my rendition of it! :)

Part One

I was grabbed by two of Hybern’s guards and dragged towards the cauldron so much rage was coursing through my body, I began clawing at the soldiers bucking wildly trying to get out of their grasp. Nothing was working, they were much stronger than I was. If I hadn’t been gagged I would have spit in their faces. I continued flailing and bucking as I was lifted up and dropped into the water. 

I tried to grab the side of the cauldron but the soldiers pushed me down into the freezing cold water. Suddenly it felt like a fire had erupted in my heart and in that instant, I knew I was dying. I could feel my limbs extending with excruciating pain, it felt like every muscle was being torn. The fire was pulsing through my veins and I couldn’t contain it any longer. I watched as flames shot out of my hands in firey ribbons, mixing with the black inky water it began swirling around me. It was beautiful and terrifying all at once.

“The youngest of the sisters, your soul burns with rage and fear” an ancient voice filled my head as the fire swirled closer around me the temperature getting hotter. “This fire is not ordinary fire, it burns brighter and hotter than the rest.” The fire engulfed me burning me to my core. With that the cauldron tipped and I was dumped on the floor gasping for air. Feyre rushed to my side reaching out to me she pulled her hand away looking down to see a burn mark, looking down at me I met her eyes. 

“It burned me” I rasped out as everything went black.

It had been a month since that awful day in Hybern when my sisters and I had been made Fae by the Cauldron. I was living in The Night Court in the House of Wind with my Elain, Nesta and Lucien while Cassian and Azriel looked after us. I had been watching as Elain wasted away to nothing and Nesta watched over her, neither one of them even bothering to ask how I was feeling. 

I was so angry, I felt like I was going to burst into flame at any moment. I didn’t feel like myself anymore, my entire body was different I was taller and my limbs were longer. My face was more angular and sharp, with pointed ears, my eyes seemed bigger than before and my hair had changed shades. Instead of the golden-brown hair my sisters and I had shared, mine had changed to a more orange tone. I didn’t recognize the female in the mirror anymore and that made me so angry.

I needed to do something with all this pent-up anger, I needed to turn this rage into something positive or it would eat me alive. Before I could change my mind I went searching for Azriel, asking him to winnow me to the townhome. He did so without any questions and then immediately faded into the shadows.

I walked to Rhysands office, beginning to feel a bit nervous. I raised my hand to knock and before my knuckles hit the door I heard him calling. “Come in Y/N!” I pushed open the wooden door and walked in. He was sitting at his desk watching me with a feline smile plastered on his face. “What can I do for you today?”

I sat down in one of the leather chairs facing his desk and placed my hands in my lap, taking a deep breath I said “I want to help with the preparations for the oncoming war.” 

“Is that so?” he asked a hint of amusement flickered in his violet eyes as he leaned back in his chair stretching out his legs in front of him and placing an ankle on his knee. I stared into his eyes nodding. 

“I don’t have many skills, but I am willing to learn” I said trying to hold the gaze of The High Lord of The Night Court, his face unreadable. Silence filled the room and I fidgeted slightly, he was either in deep thought or having a silent conversation with someone from the Inner Circle. The silence was nearly deafening, I could feel the flame flickering to life inside of me. “Please Rhys I need to do something, I can’t keep sitting around in that house anymore.” I pleaded.

“Alright, you begin training with Cassian and Azriel tomorrow morning. Have you been experimenting with your powers?” he said simply. I shook my head as fear flittered across my eyes and I watched his face change, he looked at me with such sympathy. “Have you tried to use your powers at all?”

“No, I’m too afraid” I sighed looking down at my hands ashamed.

“Y/N I know you’re afraid, but we need to start working on learning about your powers. Not just so you can learn to use them, but so nothing happens to you because of them.” he lets out a puff of air. “I would never forgive myself and I know Feyre would murder me if anything happened to you.” 

“How?” I whispered.

“We will work together to figure it out, in the afternoons after you’ve finished working with Cass or Az I will meet with you and we will start learning about your powers. If I cannot be there I will send Mor or Amren in my place.” he smiled softly at me. “On days we are not training your magic you will be learning to read and write, if Feyre was neglected in her studies I can only assume you were as well.”

“Yes” I nodded raising my eyes to meet his, his gaze was filled with sympathy. “Thank you Rhys!”

“I will collect you after lunch tomorrow and we will begin our first lesson.” There was a knock on the door and Cassian joined us. Rhys explained the plan for my training and Cassian was excited to see what I could do. 

I had stepped away from the sparring ring to gulp down a cold glass of water and turn to find Cassian stalking over to me with a smirk on his face.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna make me train for longer” I said while crossing my arms across my chest. He shook his head chuckling at me.

“You’re in luck this time, Rhys wants you down at the Town House.” he said grabbing my hand gently and lifting me into his arms.

“Cass, what are you doing?” I shrieked as he took to the skies and we flew through the skies causing him to roar with laughter. I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I could not wanting to look, another shriek left my lips as I felt us falling and suddenly we were floating down slowly. My feet hit the ground and I opened my eyes, whirling on Cassian my fists already raise he was already on the porch of the Townhouse holding the door open for me.

“Ladies first” he said bowing slightly, I glared at him.

“I hate you” lifting my hand and pinching him in the arm, his yelp quickly turned to laughter as he followed me through the door. 

“No you don’t” he smirked and walked over to the couch and flopped down. I stomped further into the house to see Rhys and Feyre waiting in the living room.

“Y/N” A smiling Feyre looks up at me, her lips thinned into a grimace as she looked at Cassian. “What did you do?” 

“Absolutely nothing” he smirked stretching his legs out on the low-lying coffee table and placing his hands behind his head.

“Nothing!?” I scoffed throwing my arms in the air dramatically. “I’m afraid of heights Cassian!” The three of them burst out laughing and I can’t help but join in.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Cassian says getting up and patting me on the crown of my head, I swat at him as he scurries away. I walked towards my sister and her mate sitting down in a large velvet chair across from the couch they are occupying.

“So what’s up?” I ask.

“We have a mission for you of sorts” Rhys smiled at me, I lift an eyebrow in question and he continues. “As you know we are working to form an alliance with the Autumn Court and specifically with Eris Vanserra the eldest of Beron’s sons and his heir.”

“In a few days we will be going to Hewn City for one of our regular visits, and we would like you to join us.” Feyre took over from Rhys. My stomach tightened, I had not been to the Court of Nightmares yet but had been told about it. They could both sense my fear. “You will be safe Y/N!”

“We ask you to come because Eris will be joining us that evening and we would like you to entertain him.” Silence filled the room as they both watched me, my gaze was shifting between them.

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” I squinted at them.

“He’s an arrogant, obnoxious asshole. But I’m sure you’ll put him in his place.” Rhys winked at me with a laugh as Cassian bounded back into the room with a bottle of wine, four stemmed glasses appeared on the table in front of us.

[jappleseedoree]

- ୨ 7️⃣ ୧ -

help me out! || kim woonhak smau

genre: fluff!!

MULTIPART SMAU (ignore any timestamps!)

prev ♡ master list

written part after slide 2!! (wc: 507)

a/n: this is the last part of help me out!! 😭 thank you guys soo much for all the likes and reblogs on this i really appreciate it 🙂‍↕️❤️ stay warm will be updated a hit more frequently and ill be working on my gunwook au more!! thank you so much for reading (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

after hearing this new plan that Jiwoo created, you changed out of your oversized plain, white t-shirt, into the hoodie that Woonhak left with you. it looked a bit bigger on you than Woonhak but he liked to say that it looked better on you than it did him. you quickly told Jaehyun that Woonhak was coming over because he needed help for the upcoming math test, which technically was the truth, but it wasn’t exactly what you had planned. Woonhak rung the doorbell, ring ring ring, though you weren’t scared to face Woonhak, you felt like you needed to make him wait for just a second. on the second round of rings, you pulled the door open. “hi Woonhak!” you exclaimed, showing him a toothy smile. though, you didn’t get an answer. you tilted your head in confusion, why wasn’t he answering, did you do something wrong, did he not like that you made him wait? “i- uh- sorry, hi…” “what’s wrong?…” you honestly were a little bit concerned. “oh- uh, nothing… is that my… my hoodie?” he stammered, it was relieving to know that Woonhak wasn’t answering only because you were wearing his hoodie. “oh, yeah! it is, did you want it back..?” “oh, no, you can keep it! you know i say it looks better on you anyway” he said, stepping into your shared apartment. “so, what parts do you need help on?” you asked. “hmm, maybe calculus, i kinda forgot all about it…” “okay sure!” as you helped explain the process, you noticed Woonhak wasn’t focused on the textbook, instead his eyes were stuck on your face. “Woonhak? are you focusing?…” you asked, waving your hand in front of his face. he shook his head, getting out of his daze, quickly apologizing. “oh, sorry Y/n, i was a bit uh, distracted.” he said, rubbing the nape of his neck. “are you okay? ever since you came over, it looks like you’ve been… thinking about something?” “Y/n, i need to tell you something, honestly.” oh how you hoped so badly how it would be a confession. “what’s up?” you had to keep your cool, and keep your prayers that he would confess in your head. “i really, really, really, like you. honestly, ever since we bumped into each other. my heart feels so heavy, seeing you smile, cuddling with you, hugging you, holding your hands, without being able to say you're mine.” you couldn’t find the power to use your words, so instead of answering, you pulled him in, kissing him on the lips, his hands reached your waist, holding on to them softly. you weren’t sure how long you two had been kissing for, to be honest, you weren’t sure if it was a dream, for that matter. until… Jaehyun barged in, interrupting you and Woonhak. “AH-” Jaehyun shouted, slamming the door closed, scurrying outside, though, a second later, opening the door again to peek again. “phew, you guys aren't kissing this time. but WHAT WAS THAT.”

[ikeromantic]

Entwined, Ch. 9

Part 9 of a multipart series. Mai has been reborn in the modern age after a full life in the Sengoku. The warlords as spirit animals find her again after 500 years of searching for her soul. Approx. 2700 words.

Part 1

Previous: Part 8

“Did you have a good chat with your friend?” Mai asked as they made their way down the beach. There were only a few people out and about. An old man sunning himself. A mom and her two children splashing in the surf. A one-eyed kitty sat on the nearby dock, tail swishing. They nearly had the whole beach all to themselves.

He gave her a sidelong look. “I did.”

“Thanks for the clothes, by the way. You didn’t need to buy all this for me.”

“Don’t worry about it. There is no other way I’d rather spend my money.” He gave her a warm smile. “I owe you for taking up your time this afternoon anyway.”

She shook her head. “No. No. I did need the break. And I haven’t been to the beach in awhile.”

Mitsuhide nodded instead of responding with one of his usual quips. 

There was so much in his expression that she could not read. Mai wanted to ask him about his teasing earlier. About his conversation with Motonari. And what he knew of her headaches and the strange dreams that invaded even her waking hours. The words were there on the tip of her tongue, but she found herself unable to speak them. As if some fear held her silent. Fear, perhaps, of learning a truth she wasn’t ready to accept, or hearing a lie she could not stomach. 

“Let’s swim,” she said instead. It was still a bit cool out to be in the water, but she didn’t care. A feeling of recklessness burst over her. A sudden desire to do something, anything. To move, even if that motion changed nothing about her situation.

“Alright, little mouse.” He ruffled her hair playfully, his humor back in full force. 

They found a spot to set their things and changed in the nearby dressing rooms. Mai was tempted to put back on the white and gold bathing suit just to see if it had the same effect a second time around, but self preservation won out and she wore the blue one instead. 

Mitsuhide was already waiting for her on a blanket spread over the sand. He was wearing a pair of loose swim trunks. They were white, with curling blue lines up the sides that emphasized how low they rode his hips. Her eyes were drawn to the line of soft, white-blond hair that led in a trail beneath his bellybutton to the waist band of the shorts. 

Mai felt her mouth go dry at the sight. There was something intolerably sexy about the V of a man’s hips, and on Mitsuhide it was . . . delicious was the only word that came to her mind. She had to take a breath and make her heart calm down. This was not the way she was supposed to feel about a client - or a friend. And he had someone else, she reminded herself. He just liked to tease her. 

He seemed to catch the look in her eyes as she saw him, and his smile grew wider. “Do you approve? I know I didn’t model for you at the shop, but I didn’t think I needed to. Men’s swim trunks are all the same, no?”

“No,” she said breathily and then coughed and said it again in a more normal tone. “The - the seams. The fit. Uhm.” Mai cleared her throat again. How did he have this effect? She saw countless men in their underwear during fittings and when taking measurements. And she’d had boyfriends. Not a lot, but enough to be immune to - to abs. And that pelvic V. And the delicate platinum hairs that caught the light. And that little freckle on his left hip . . .

“Uhm?” He laughed. “Technical sewing term?”

“Yep. Yeah.” Holy cats, she thought. This was entirely unfair. She wished she’d decided to come out in the white and gold suit, just to even things up. 

“You look great in that one.” Mitsuhide gave her an appreciative look. “The blue suits you.” 

“Mmm.” She noticed it matched the blue on his shorts. “It looks like we coordinated.”

“Oh? What a coincidence.” 

The way he said it made her doubt that very much, but she decided not to make anything out of it. He was just teasing her again. Flirting. He probably acted like that with a lot of girls he worked with. Nothing special. Mai told herself that, and almost believed it. But even with those thoughts swirling in her mind, she couldn’t help but feel special as he took her hand and led her out into the surf. 

The water wasn’t as cold as she’d expected it to be. A little cooler than the air, she thought, as it surged up her bare legs and splashed her thighs. She stumbled a bit as the tide pulled at her ankles.

“Careful little mouse. The currents can catch you if you aren’t paying attention.”

“I know. This is the same beach I used to come to with my parents. And I swim here sometimes with Asami and Kaiya.” She splashed him with her free hand, and he let go of her to splash her back. 

“Cruel vixen. I wasn’t going to start a war with you, but now you’ve done it.” He laughed and sent a jet of water toward her from his fist.

Mai tried to dodge but ended up catching most of it on her chest. “Oooh I am going to get you for that!” She sent a wave of water at him, which he didn’t even try to dodge. The droplets beaded and ran down his skin like little sunlit gems. Which wasn’t fair, she thought. Water absolutely did not do that on her skin. 

They kept the splash battle going until a wave got them both and knocked Mai completely into the water. Mitsuhide helped her up, chuckling as she spluttered. “In your state, I think it’s only fair to call a truce.”

“I accept,” she grinned, pushing her wet hair out of her face. 

After that, they floated for a bit, and swam, and then sat on the beach and talked about silly things. Favorite movies and music and what kind of pet they would get if they could have any pet in the world. 

“I’d get . . . a little mouse,” Mitsuhide grinned. 

“Oh come on. Be serious! You could have any animal in the world and you would want a mouse?” She rolled her eyes. “I can tell you’re teasing me again. God, you are so evil!”

“Evil? Never.” He laughed. “You are just underestimating how adorable a mouse can be. Brave, even though her little heart is pounding in fear. Her eyes, big and wide and gentle, her pink little nose wiggling. And her soft little feet!”

“You know, I almost believe you.” Mai sighed. 

Mitushide turned, stretching. He rolled his shoulders, the muscles of his back bunching and relaxing as they sent water droplets dancing down his skin. “So what about you,” he asked, looking at her over his shoulder. 

Mai pulled her eyes away with some effort. “I - I don’t know. I’ve always thought koalas were cute but they sleep all the time. I guess I’d want a pet I can cuddle and play with. Like a red panda. Or a fox. They’re cute.”

“A fox, hm? And what would you do with your little fox pet, if you had one?” His smile looked somehow smug, as if he’d wanted her to give that answer. 

“I don’t know. Take him for walks? Curl up with him in my lap and watch tv? Normal pet stuff.” She sighed. “I guess I should dream bigger. Like a bear or a tiger. Or a horse! I could ride him.”

“Overrated.” Mitsuhide sniffed. “Stick with the fox. You’ll have more fun. They are very playful animals.”

She laughed. “True.” Then Mai paused, a question bubbling out of her before she thought about it. “How did you know to make the marks you did? At the fitting?”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Because those are - those are mine. I made them up in college so people couldn’t easily steal my designs. I’ve never taught them to anyone.” There was the tug again in her chest, insistent.

His eyes narrowed in thought. Mitsuhide replied with a flat tone, though his eyes shone. “I told you a master never reveals his secrets.”

“Oooh I should have known you wouldn’t be serious!” She growled in frustration. “Let me see if I can figure it out. Maybe . . . you studied them when I was doing the design and fittings for your play. That’s it, isn’t it?” It was the only thing that made sense to her, though Mai could not imagine someone putting in the time and effort to do so. And for what? So he could surprise her with it today? That was unhinged.

“I suppose that’s one theory.” He settled back, laying on the blanket to gaze up at the sky. 

“You are infuriating.”

He grinned, his eyes closing. “Thank you, little one. I do try.”

Mai huffed and lay back on her towel. The warm sun felt glorious on her skin after the cold ocean water. She closed her eyes and let herself relax. Worries about her dreams - and daydreams - could wait. Maybe she would see a doctor about it, and they could tell her what was happening to her. Perfectly solvable. Later. 

They lay like that for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts, close but not together. Almost, but not quite touching. A comfortable silence stretched between them for a time. Mitsuhide was the first to break it. “Tell me, little mouse. What is it that you want?”

“What?” Mai peered over at him. “That’s kind of a big question.”

He nodded, still laying with his eyes closed, expression unreadable. “Just in general. Lots of people want a career. Marriage. Kids. A nice house in a good part of town. So what is it you dream of?”

She wasn’t sure how he meant the question. Serious or teasing, playful or genuinely curious. But she took it seriously. “I used to think all I really wanted was to be a great clothing designer. To be respected in my field, make money . . . but . . . I kind of have that, for the most part.”

“And?” He prompted.

“It’s not everything I thought it would be? I mean, I still love making clothes. Taking an idea from design to completion and seeing the joy in my customer’s face is great. And I make enough to get by even if I’ll never be rich. It’s just, I think sometimes I do want something more.”

Mitsuhide turned his head to face her. “Like what?”

“Someone to share it with? I mean, I have friends and I’ve dated. It’s not like I’m a hermit.” Mai laughed. “I just think sometimes it would be nice to find someone that understands me and cares about me and . . . I guess I sound pretty pathetic, huh?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Not at all. I think that’s what most people want, even if they don’t admit it.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Even you, oh mysterious actor man?”

Mitsuhide grinned. “Even me.” He propped himself up on an elbow to face her. “Am I really so mysterious to you?”

“Absolutely.” She teased him and laughed again, but stopped as she noticed something melancholy in that golden gaze. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you forever,” she admitted, though she hadn’t meant to. “Not like . . . like anything weird. Just, when you’re around. It feels like you belong.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek in a caress too loving for a mere friend. Too familiar for any but a lover. 

Mai felt something hot and electric tremble through her nerves at his touch. She held herself completely still, her lips closed tight, for fear she might lean into it or make a sound. Then his hand was gone and he was standing up, brushing the bits of sand and sea salt from his skin.

“We should get back. It will be dinner soon and I have to get ready.” 

Whatever Mai felt, she thought it was pretty clear he didn’t. A bitter disappointment rushed in to fill the spaces of her chest that were warm only a moment ago. “Going on a date,” she sniped.

Mitsuhide’s usual grin fell a little and he shook his head. “No. Only one date a day for me.” He held out a hand and helped her up. “Just some industry people. The assistant to the regional cultural director, the mayor’s secretary. That kind of thing. Work related.” He shrugged.

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to react to that answer. She’d known he had some pull but those kinds of connections seemed beyond what your average actor would cultivate. Then it fully landed, what he’d said. One date a day. “Wait. Was this a date? Because -”

He laughed and tousled her hair. “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

“Are you seriously quoting Shakespeare as an answer?” She tried to frown at him but his expression was so ridiculous. That wide, sharp smile and his eyes so full of a pretend innocence. 

“If the bard said it first and better, I don’t know why I’d try to improve on the text.” He laughed. “Now are you going to help me pack up or am I carrying all this on my own?”

Mai gave him a sly grin. “Well, since this is a date, I suppose you’re on your own. Have to prove your manliness and all that.”

“Oh? Is it not well-proven already?” He skimmed a hand down his side and Mai couldn’t help the way her eyes tracked the movement. It wasn’t fair for him to be so pretty. So infuriatingly gorgeous. So . . .

She cleared her throat and forced her eyes up. “I’ll give you a point or two for that. But you should probably put on a shirt.” And then followed her own advice and put a cover-up on. 

“The struggles of modern day masculinity. Alas.” He easily packed and hefted the bundle of stuff they’d bought for the day. “At one time, I would have slaughtered my way through enemy lines to rescue you. That would have been proof enough. But there just aren’t enough decent opponents these days. And modern law tends to frown on the whole killing thing.”

“And that’s a good thing.” Mai laughed as she led the way back to the car. The one-eyed cat was still sitting on the dock. It watched as they passed, tail swishing. 

She did end up helping Mitsuhide load everything into the car. The drive back was short and pleasant, with Mitsuhide continuing to bemoan the modern state of manliness. Mai teased him and they both laughed. It felt good, she thought. Really good. The chemistry between them had her whole self humming, body and soul. 

When they reached her flat, he walked her to the door, bags in hand. “So, little mouse? Shall we do this again sometime?” He smiled down at her, one arm braced behind her against the door. If he set his other hand on the brick, she’d be trapped between him and the building, which didn’t bother her as much as it should. 

“Sure. But next time, let’s just plan it? That way it feels less like a kidnapping and more like hanging out with a friend.” 

“Is that what today felt like?” He tilted his head toward her, his platinum blonde hair falling in his face. A strand of it brushed her cheek. 

“Ah . . . I . . .” Her mind stuttered to a halt as he shifted closer. His breath tickled her cheek. She was sure he was about to kiss her. Her head tilted to match his, her lips pursed, her body leaning toward him. 

Mitsuhide set her bag into her hands. “Have a good night, little one.” 

“Y-you too?” She felt an almost physical weight of disappointment that he hadn’t kissed her. Or even tried to kiss her. Mai watched him drive off with a deep feeling of confusion. Had she misread him? Was he just teasing? Damn it. 

As she walked upstairs, the one thing that she was certain about was that she’d wanted to kiss Mitsuhide. Which meant there was something she needed to do. She pulled out her phone and texted Hideyoshi.

Hey! Can we talk?

Chapter 10

[the-masked-ram]

Risking It All- Aomine x Reader

CW: Mature Themes, Guns, Gambling, Gangs, Russian Roulette, Ambiguous ending, No sexual themes A/N: To be honest I was considering making this a larger one shot or perhaps even a multipart miniseries but I’m uncertain since I have so many other projects. So it’s just a drabble. Sadly if it had been changed into something more there would be a relationship between aomine and reader T^T we always want more of that ----

Aomine bit his lip as he sat across from you, a line of concentration between his brows. He shifted once again and you swallowed as you looked down at the gun, the money, the slowly filling ash tray, and the singular bullet all spread out in a line on the table. “What’s the rules?” you asked. “Only rule is you keep pulling ‘til I tell you to stop. This is a game of loyalty, you play, you play for keeps,” Aomine said tapping his fingers on the table. “You sure you wanna do this?” “I get the money at the end right,” you said, your heart kicking up as your hand came up to lie flatly against the wood. “That and you get a spot in the gang,” he said gruffly, as if that were more important than the money that would get the loan sharks off your back. “I don’t want to run drugs Daiki,” you said seriously, fixing your friend with a glare. “I just… I need money.” He sighed, rubbing his neck with his palm, “You won’t. It’s kind of an honorary title. I don’t know why you won’t just lemme help you.” “I don’t want to be in debt. Not from anyone,” you said, even as your hand shook, and you reached for the cool handle of the revolver. “Always willing to bet everything,” he mumbled, and you smirked despite the situation. You couldn’t help but shake your head and laugh, it was a bit hysterical sounding if you were honest. You picked up the gun and nothing had ever felt so heavy in your entire life. Comfortably you loaded it, spun the chambers and with a grin that didn’t quite meet your eyes you pointed it at your temple. “Go big or go home, right?” you said and before he could stop you, before you could talk yourself out of it, you pulled the trigger.

[pennywaltzy]

The Head Knows What The Heart Wants (18/18) - NEW CHAPTER

And here’s the end! A really short postscript, but some more fluff for a well-deserving couple.

The Head Knows What The Heart Wants - After the revelation that there had been some plotting between Moriarty and Eurus before his death, Sebastian Moran had decided to do whatever it took to keep Molly safe…even if that meant ruining whatever the results of his ex-lover’s collusion with the Holmes sister were. But after enough time had gone by, things changed, and that was when Eurus decided to strike. That was when Sebastian couldn’t deny the truth any longer: Molly Hooper had become the most important person in his life…and he would do whatever it took to make sure she was safe.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 18 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI? | MY PATREON

Nearly One Year Later

“Oh, she was so good on the flight!” Molly said as she carried the car seat into the New York City penthouse. It hadn’t exactly been the return trip he had imagined when they had talked about it as the new year dawned, but maybe it would be better. He hadn’t planned on having the guest bedroom turned into a nursery then, but well...Pádraigín Annabelle Moran had been a surprise that their first trip to New York had given them, one that had caused all their plans to go out the window.

There had been no long engagement, but there was that tropical wedding and some shagging under palm trees, and there had been Molly in a dress with a veil, though it was more on the tropical side, and there had been house hunting with the intention of having the skylight in the nursery. As pregnancy had not agreed with Molly, the decision had been made to foster or adopt any other children they may decide to have in their lives. But now she was moving around; the cesarean section incision had healed and she demanded they go to New York. “For closure, if nothing else,” she had said.

Whether it was for him or for her, she wasn’t sure, but the moment they stepped into his apartment, now their apartment under their proper names, they both seemed to relax.

“She was a little angel,” he said, carrying in the rest of the things that they had brought up in the elevator. He had a few trips to make, but one of the advantages of a private elevator was it could stay up at the penthouse suite while he unloaded it. There were gifts that had been bought last minute, clothing that Molly fit in again, their daughter’s things that went with them everywhere it seemed...but as he watched Molly set the car seat on the sofa and undo the latches, lifting out his ginger-haired little girl, he knew no matter what else, this would be a Christmas to remember for all the right reasons.

[kalopsicceraunophile]

Liquid, Oil and Cream pt.1

Summary: Reader starts her natural hair journey after a hair appointment gone wrong and has to reconcile with past trauma surrounding her hair

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Black!Fem!Reader 

Content: Angst w/t fluff, trauma surrounding black hair, bullying, comedic ending??

Notes: First time writing a fanfic, so please be gentle with me!! Multipart series

Word Count: 1K+ (1149) words

Part 2. Wash Day

______________________________________________________________

Part One: Big Chop

Length: 0 inches

Curl defining cream, holding gel, mousse, pomade, heat protectant, jellies, lotions, hair food, sheen; the names were swirling in your head.

All these damn products—no wonder it’s hard to go natural. You thought.

You decided to go natural after a particularly traumatic relaxer appointment. Let’s just say that the cosmetologist was new. Coming back home from that appointment, scalping throbbing and nostrils engulfed with that awful rotten egg smell, you sheared the destroyed hair in a sort of detox ritual. While staring at your new reality, a certain lanky fellow cruised into your room. Peter had insisted on having a movie marathon, which had completely slipped your mind.

“Fuck.” You muttered, trying to clean the hair from your sink. You grabbed the wig you bought along with your hair products and quickly slipped it onto your head. Before exiting your bathroom you uttered a quick prayer, praying that the wig strap would keep it in place, and walked out. 

“ Hey Pete, who let you in?” You asked from a distance. You started to stroke your hair, trying to make sure any fly-aways were quickly suppressed.

“ Umm your mom. She said to hurry in because you needed some support/ Is everything okay?” He approached slowly, looking for injuries. (238)

Goddamnit mom

“Yeah, everything’s fine. She was probably playing with you.” You said in an unnatural tone. You just hoped what you said would kill this topic.

“Well then—I got the entire Harry Potter series and Star Wars, which one do you—” His voice trailed off as he looked at you. His eyes squinted and focused on the hair on your head. You quickly snatched Star Wars out of his hands to get out of his gaze.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” You were taunted. You dropped down to the dvd player and popped A New Hope in

“You’re one to talk. You’re the one who snatched the box out of my hands.” He replied,  eyebrows cocked with a smirk plastered on his face. “By the way, something about you is…different.”

“ I didn’t change anything.” You said as you plopped down next to him. He could tell you were nervous, his spidey senses picked up on your increased heart rate and by your dewyer skin. He could also tell something about your hair was off; it was dull and didn’t have your scent on it.

He didn’t want to probe you about your hair. He knew about your love/hate relationship with it. He remembered how Flash would stick his fingers in it and pull on your coils. He remembered how the girls would talk about how “dirty” your hair was. He remembered how celebrated you were when you straightened it; how you were finally treated with respect. He knew you relaxed your hair not because you liked it, but because it was one less thing to pick on. 

He had known he liked-no- loved you for two years now. He loved how intelligent you were, always tied with him in class and how you could hold your own with him in friendly debate. He loved how you defended others, often standing up to Flash when he bullied an underclassmen. He loved your steadfastness to your family and friends. He hated how you didn’t allow yourself the same kindness you gave others. It pained him when you would call yourself stupid when you didn’t understand an assignment right away, or would never talk pictures with him.

He snapped back to his current reality. Empire Strikes back was on and the sun was disappearing into the horizon. You were so concentrated on the movie that you didn’t notice the wig slipping off. You turned to Peter, just to see him looking up at your head.

You ran into your bathroom, locking the door behind you. The door vibrating on your back as Peter knocked on the door.

“Peter, please leave me alone. I’m already embarrassed.” You looked into the mirror, tear welling. You removed your wig slowly.

“(Y/N), please I just want to see you. I want to know if you’re okay.”

“ How can I feel okay? I feel so ugly all the time. No one takes me seriously unless I look the way they like. I’m harassed for the way my hair grows out of my head.” You rubbed your head, feeling the short follicles sway with the motion of your hand.

Peter had been your best friend since kindergarten, and through all those years you knew that Peter was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You could never tell this to him because, in your eyes, he was too good for you. You had all these problems, all these faults, within you, that there was no way Peter would ever want to be with someone like you.

Something about this brought comfort to you at this moment. Why do you care what others think about you? Look at where it got you, bald and crying in your own bathroom, scared that your best friend and crush would look at you differently now. You decided then on that you would stop hiding yourself, and if people didn’t like you because of it, then fuck them.

Fuck it, he never did like me in that way, you thought as you unlocked the door.

You opened the door, your hair in all its glory out in the open. Peter looked at you with a look you couldn’t discern. 

“Peter, I have liked you for God knows how long and if you don’t want to be around me, I und—”

You were interrupted by his lips against yours, his hands on your cheeks with affection. He broke off from you, love glazed his eyes as he held your head.

“I have never been more in love with you than at this moment. (Y/N), since kindergarten I’ve been by your side. And two years ago, I finally realized that I wanted you to be mine, solely mine. I hate when you say shit like that because you are too good. You are too smart, too kind, too gorgeous for that!” He held your shoulders as he crouched down to your level. He pulled you into a hug, much to your surprise. 

“Please believe me when I say that you had my heart then and especially now. That is, if you’ll have me.” you loosened his grip on you to look into your eyes.

“Peter, did you not listen to my bathroom confession or do we have to rewind?” You deadpanned

“Oh—right.”

“Come on, white boy. Let’s go and finish this marathon.” You grabbed his hand

He kissed your hand and quickly snatched the wig and threw it out your open window. Your mouth was agape while he sat you down on the couch.

“Yes. Let’s”

FIN

[shenevertricks1831]

Connor Murphy x Reader (psych ward pt 2, Connor's Release)

Once Connor and Y/N meet in a teen psych ward their relationship is immediately in jeopardy as Connor is released.

A/N: So I apparently have a lot of inspiration stemming from Connor Murphy, and other Mike Faist characters...so it looks like this will be a multipart headcanon series; and I might make something for some of his other characters as well..anyway enjoy!

⚠️TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of emotional and mental abuse, uhm I think that's it for this part; but as always I suck at warning so read at your own discretion.

-Since that first day you and Connor became inseparable.

-Any time you were allowed to be together you two were practically conjoined at the hip.

-Whether it was holding hands during group, or snuggling up while watching a movie, or coloring together during free time.

-The staff had never seen Connor so calm and at peace.

-But the last 24 hours everyone had been on edge; the staff, Connor, and you.

-Connor was scheduled to be released soon.

-He was going to be out a whole 2 days before you.

-It didn't seem that bad; but since you two had connected you'd been together almost all the time.

-And there were many unspoken questions about what would happen not only after his release, but after yours as well.

-It was Monday afternoon during free time in the recreational area. You sat next to Connor at a table near the window.

-You were both coloring. It seemed like a somewhat childish pastime, but you both found it relaxing.

-Only today your head wasn't in it. Your gaze kept drifting to the window, trying to distract yourself from the lump that'd been in your throat all day.

-Connor took notice that you'd stopped scribbling and rested its hand on top of yours.

-"Hey." He spoke softly pulling you from your thoughts. "What's going on?" He squeezed your hand, softly reassuring you that you could tell him anything.

-You closed your eyes, feeling tears threaten to fall. "Connor, we need to talk."

-He felt his heart drop at your words.

-"Whats gonna happen?" You choked out quietly. "You get out tomorrow. Do you," you paused trying to swallow the lump in your throat, "even want to keep in contact?"

-Connor pulled you to him and hugged you to his chest tightly.

-"Of course I do," he muttered into your hair, "the mere thought of leaving here without you breaks my heart."

-Connor slowly released his hold on you, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

-"If you will still have me after meeting me in the psych ward and knowing all my baggage, then I'd have to be crazy to let you go, and when you get out I will be waiting for you. And I don't mean that in a cheesy way, I mean I will literally be waiting outside the front door with flowers and a kiss just for you."

-You were quietly crying when he finished speaking.

-Connor leaned forward, wiping your tears away and gently kissed your forehead.

-Resting his forehead against your own he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and held onto your hands.

-Taking in a shaking breath, you spoke quietly.

-" How's this gonna work? We'll still see each other right?" You hated asking these questions out loud, it made the reality of the situation real.

-Connor did his best to smile, keeping his head down and playing with your hands.

-"Well, this city isn't that giant." He squeezed your hands gently, "And you said your mom's moving in with your aunt, which means you'll be at a new school.."

-Over the days together you'd told Connor about your mothers plans to leave your step father after years of mental and emotional abuse.

-The last straw in their relationship had been your suicide attempt, which was sparred by your step fathers abuse; so now your mother had begun the divorce process.

-Your mother had already began moving all your and her belongings to your aunt and uncles house.

-Once you were released you'd join her to live with your family across town.

- And then you'd transfer to a new school, the one your cousin attended.

-Connors fingers brushed over your knuckles soothingly.

-"Ya know," Connor spoke just above a whisper, "there's only 3 high schools in the district." He paused, taking a nervous deep breath, "That means there's basically a 50% chance that you'll transfer to my school."

-Slowly you smiled up at him knowing he was right.

-"And what if I don't end up at your school?" You softly asked.

-"Y/N, babe, you've been here for me when no one else was. A different school isn't gonna keep me from you. If you want this, us, to work then I'm all in. You've made me the happiest I've been, in a psych ward of all places. A different school won't keep me from you,"  he kissed you knuckles, "I promise."

*****

-It was the morning of Connor's release.

-You barely got to say goodbye.

-Well actually you two had gotten to say goodbye the night before.

-But that morning the most goodbye you got to give him was a teary eyed half smile and a small wave.

-You were separated by a glass window.

-Connor sat next to a woman, you assumed was his mother, they sat in front of a receptionist desk.

-You watched him till he left with his mother.

-He turned and gave you a small wave, mouthing 'I love you' before he walked out of the building.

-And then you felt like your heart broke.

-You'd never had a boys say they loved you, even if it was just silently mouthed, but you didn't know if it was real or if you'd see him again.

-With tears running down your face, you quietly moved to the table you and Connor would always sit at, and began to color.

-As Connor followed his mother to the car he silently cried.

-He knew it sounded stupid and dramatic, but he felt like he'd left a part of his heart behind.

-Cynthia could tell something was wrong, but she waited until they were in the car to say anything.

-"Connor," she spoke slowly, almost timidly, "are you okay hun?"

-Connor wasn't sure what came over him, but he broke down.

-He began to sob, reaching over the cars middle console and wrapping his arms around his mother burying his face in her chest as he cried.

-Both of them were mildly shocked.

-Neither of them could even remember the last time Connor had actively sought out his mother's comfort.

-With her arms wrapped around him Cynthia softly talked to her son.

-"Sweetheart what's wrong?" She did her best to not allow her voice to crack.

-Connor squeezed his mother tighter as his tears kept coming. "I-I didn't wanna leave her."

-At first Cynthia was confused, she didn't understand what her son ment, and then she remembered the girl she'd seen inside.

-The girl who was watching her son and trying to smile through her tears.

-Slowly she pulled back from her son and looked in his eyes. "Tell me about her," She slowly reached for her sons hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "please."

-"I love her." Connor whispered.

-Connor and Cynthia sat in the parking lot as Connor explained everything to his mother. He explained who you were, why you were there, what was going to happen when you got out, and how he wanted to be with you still.

-He was secretly so thankful that his father hadn't come with his mother that morning. He could only imagine how much shit Larry would of had to say about all this.

-After everything was out on the table Cynthia took a deep breath. "Well, Connor, do you know what her favorite flower is?"

-"What?"

-"If your supposed to be here with flowers when she gets out you should probably make sure you get some she likes." She spoke matter-of-factly.

-Connor looked at his mother, slightly stunned. "(your favorite flower). Th-that's her favorite." He quietly uttered.

-"Alrighty then."  Cynthia smiled as she turned the key in the ignition. "I'll make sure to order a bouquet of (Y/F/F) and have them ready to go Thursday morning before she's released," she grabbed her sons hand and squeezed it, turning her smile toward him, "and then I'll have you here before she's released."

-Connor looked at his mother in wonder.

-He wiped his eyes once more before he spoke.

-"Thank you Cynth-" he paused a moment and glanced at his moms hand still holding his own, "Thanks mom."

-Then he smiled at her. And Cythia realized that was the first time in years he'd called her mom.

-She knew her husband wouldn't understand. He wouldn't be able to comprehend that their son had fallen in love in the teen psych ward.

-But she was willing to help her son; she saw a spark of hope in her son she hadn't seen in years, and she was not going to ruin that for Connor.