#but sometimes that's the fucking reality of being a marginalized person and you need the sadness and darkness to feel that reality

[pyrotechnicarus]

Scale of 1-10, how emotionally devastating was I Saw The TV Glow?

I can't express how important it is for you to watch it right now immediately. Maybe with a friend to cry about it after.

11

[anarchywoofwoof]

one thing i don’t think a lot of leftists understand is that sometimes the best thing you can do is just shut the fuck up and let underrepresented people speak for themselves.

when i’m in a work meeting and a femme person or a person of color or a person in any other minority group is speaking, i keep my mouth shut. as a white guy, my opinion has been heard time and again. it’s not needed in every discussion. i will have my time. if i do speak, it’s to succinctly say “i agree” and give the appropriate support and external validation to that persons opinion without offering my own.

am i perfect? absolutely not. i still find myself speaking from a place of privilege fairly often. but if i notice myself monopolizing the conversation or if i catch myself cutting off someone from making a point, i do my best to acknowledge it and give that person the space and time they deserve to say what they need to say.

being a useful and reliable ally is not what you say on behalf of marginalized people but the fervor in which you fight to ensure that they have the opportunity to speak their truth as freely as you do. and it’s integral that you provide aid where possible or necessary in validating their reality in the face of people who deny it to be so.

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

You ever think about how fucked up it is that children in military families are surrounded by messages that their parents and other close relatives are Heroes who are In Danger Protecting Them whenever they leave home? Like. I only have the experience of it you get from living in Texas where it also kinda fuses and intersects with and reinforces the evangelism in a lot of ways, but I can't imagine pro-military tactics are much different in other places. If service isn't compulsory, the main way you draw people in is with the promise of being Cool Noble Heroes Protecting The Country when in reality their lives and bodies and personal goals are just being exploited for the aims of whoever happens to be in charge of this grander landmass.

And while I've seen people talk about how that whole paradigm is Bad For Global Society (because it is) and preys on the poor and otherwise disenfranchised/marginalized (because it does) I don't think I've seen anyone directly point out how it will fuck a kid up to be told 'Your parent/older sibling/otherwise close one is a big cool tough hero who goes into dangerous situations willing to sacrifice anything, specifically their own life, to keep you and the countless strangers in the nation Safe.' over and over and over again in countless insidious ways.

Like, imagine you are 5 years old and it's normal to you for your Mom not to be home, because she's been on and off deployed or multiple towns over on drill or doing other vaguely defined military shit on-base since before you were born. The main outfit you can imagine her in is camouflage, with your last name and various other incomprehensible words and symbols velcroed in various places on it. You like her shiny silver necklace with the square charms that go clink-clink, and you ask someone older than you if you can have one, and you're told 'Oh, no, you get that when you're a soldier.' 'But why can't I have one now?' and they now have the choice to either leave you frustrated that you are being left out of the loop on your mom's necklace, or they tell you 'Those are dog tags. They're used to identify a soldier in case they die. You don't need them.' If they're detailed, they add, 'You can't always identify a body depending on the way they die.' And as years go on people mince words less and less and you're taught sometime in middle or high school that dog tags as a practice started during the civil war amongst soldiers when they realized they didn't know who to send some of the corpses home to.

Imagine you're 7, and at school you're given one of those 'What job does your parent have?' worksheets that are meant to teach kids how to write comprehensible statements. Your Mom is a mechanic, and you know a lot of what the things in her toolbox are for. You feel very smart for being able to identify different models of car and knowing that cars don't just have engines, but batteries and cooling systems. Your Dad hasn't been home more than a week for the past two months. All you know is what the TV and other military kids say about what being in the army is like. You write down what you've heard. Your dad has a very important job. He protects everybody from danger and knows how to use a gun. He 'puts his life on the line'. A phrase you have heard so many times, it has ceased to mean anything. If it ever really meant anything to you when you first heard it. Whenever that was.

Imagine you're 11, and your older sibling gets home from their first deployment. They're a little jet lagged, and they almost don't recognize you because you grew out your hair some while they were gone and grew out of half your clothes. They give you a big hug and your parents say welcome home and you completely forget how just last month you were playing out in your head a situation where you got a call saying they weren't coming home and strategizing your whole life for a night around them not being there, because for all you know, that could happen anytime. Any day. Whenever they are not in your sight, they could be in danger. But of course you don't need to worry. They're home now, they'll be in danger again later, and right now, they brought you souvenirs for your birthday they missed.

And they do it for you. They do it because they're heroes. They do it because they're brave and the best and amazing. They do it because everybody needs them. Everybody, not just you. Your family doesn't belong to you, your family belongs to the country. The first people who you ever had the chance to be important to, who ever had the chance to be important to you, could disappear from your life and you wouldn't know it until the call came through from wherever they'd been disappeared off to.

Like, maybe it's bad to tell children that's Good Actually.

[jonayariley]

so i have been curious for the longest time since the couple was revealed in all your projects, and its piqued, idk if you've answered something like this before so if so just throw me the link if needed but i must know your elchixie thoughts.

like the hows, the whys, what hc's based off canon, fanon, whatever you have for em just, ramble bout em, i find myself curious on many a crackship and the urge to poke brains on the reasonings for em (and no offense i just, don't think i can go through so many fic chapters to learn some info on this ship sorry)

Oh boy oh boy you sure did come to the right place! I may have talked about this in other places, but idk that I've ever have someone just outright ask, and I think you'd probably be sifting through mostly commentary on Friendsim 2 to find any details and that's like... hours of video to watch, so this ask was a good idea!

I guess the heart of why I love the Elwurd/Chixie dynamic so much is a combination of "I can fix her" and "they should have talked." Allow me to elaborate!

Elwurd

So, I really like the idea of exploring how characters can grow and change (or, conversely, refuse to change) over time. When I was writing my Hiveswap novels (and I later carried this over to Friendsim 2, but those came first so they get first credit here), I really wanted to explore how Elwurd could evolve as a character. Like, in the original Friendsim and Hiveswap games she's kinda one-note - not, like, bad or anything... just she's gay and flirty and she's kinda a jerk sometimes. But there's only so much you can do with a character in a short visual novel route and a handful of dialogue boxes as a side character in an adventure game.

But I wanted to explore the idea of how Elwurd's outward "fuck everyone else" attitude might be something she puts up as a way of not having to deal with the horrors of her reality. The combination of being expected to support the Empire as a cerulean (something she doesn't have any interest in doing) and still being kinda powerless to actually do anything to change things. So she throws herself into escapism - drugs and booze and casual hookups. There's a line in Delightful Abattoir that I keep circling thematically with Elwurd:

I just want to not have to feel that pain all the time. So I do things to escape from it a few minutes at a time. Is that so bad?

And that's kind of where she's at in the beginning of her arc, headspace-wise. Like I said, I carried a lot of this forward to Friendsim 2, albeit with a more grounded take on the world that follows the original Friendsim.

Chixie

She's someone who exists in this precarious space - a lowblood who's in the Alternian entertainment industry, which already puts her under a very uncomfortable spotlight. As a marginalized person, you don't really have a lot of room to make mistakes in the public eye, because you're judged way more harshly for it - or seen as a representative for your entire class of existence as a person. So that's already a lot of pressure, added to the whole secret identity thing with the Mask.

And tbh, I see the Mask as being kind of an open secret - like, she doesn't even change clothes, so it doesn't seem like no one would be able to figure it out, but also I really like playing with the idea of the Empire allowing a certain level of performative/superfluous rebellion among the population. Basically, you can talk about it as long as you aren't actually causing problems. And that's going to be frustrating to Chixie too because she wants to actually make a difference.

I see her as someone with a lot of trust issues - not a lot of super close friends, and she's clearly not dealing well with the stress either, given that we see her in canon having issues with substance use.

In my Hiveswap novels and Friendsim 2, I added the extra layer of having to deal with having Zebruh as her manager - someone who wants to exploit her both from a commercial perspective and sexually (he keeps hitting on her in Friendsim 2 and in Delightful Abattoir they're in an outright abusive relationship at first).

Elwurd/Chixie

So, independently there's a lot going on, but the other part of this is I feel like these two would naturally run in some of the same circles. Elwurd is shown hanging out in a bar, partying, etc. in canon - and seems like someone who would absolutely be involved in the underground music scene and run in some of the same underground circles as Chixie, even if it was just to sell folks drugs.

In Friendsim 2, I added the layer of having Elwurd basically acting as a roadie for Chixie's band sometimes - she's just kind of hanging out in the same places and with the same people (like fellow dissatisfied cerulean blood Mallek) and the whole "just trying to avoid thinking about this shit too much" attitude is gonna drive her to do something to keep her mind off the existential bullshit that is her life. Why not help a pretty bronze blood carry an amp and run some cables, right?

I really like the idea of these two eventually talking and starting to connect over some similarities - disgust for the Empire, a feeling of helplessness in their lives, a desire for things to be different somehow. They don't take exactly the same angle towards things - I'd say Elwurd is far more self-destructive and Chixie is more kind of "rage against the machine" about it - but I think there's enough common ground that they could end up talking and getting closer.

I've always liked the headcanon that Chixie is demisexual - probably a good deal of personal bias going into that (and - yknow - "vibes"), but it's a fun element to toss in there. That means that Elwurd/Chixie is always going to be something that's a slow burn and is always kinda fragile. In Friendsim 2 you have to line a few things up right for them to actually consider being matesprits, and in the Hiveswap novels it takes a while for them to end up together.

And, like, I feel like their attitudes temper each other. Elwurd finds someone to ground her self-destructive tendencies, and Chixie finds someone who helps her feel less isolated and less inside her own head all the time. They both still run in the same circles, and Elwurd always struck me as someone who'd be down with the idea of fucking over the Empire, so the whole Mask/rebellion thing isn't a hard sell.

Anyway, that turned out very much longer than I expected, but I hope it gives you some insight into why I keep gravitating to that ship! As far as I can tell, it's a pretty uncommon one and it's like - just something that worked its way into my brain and now I'm obligated to include it literally everywhere!

[eraserisms]

This meme was sent in from here from @int65

👀 Do the mun and you get along? 

Shota let out a soft grunt, not wanting to be bothered over such useless questions. With it being the end of the term and summer around the corner, he had exam results to go over after all. "Ngh, I mean, D.A. is okay I guess. I don't know if the term 'get along' would be quite a way to describe it. He's a bit loud and excitable at times, but then again, it seems to be a common theme that all people in my life are noisy. He can get goofy sometimes or go on stupid rants about whatever he's interested in at the moment, but I don't think that he's a bad person." "I actually think in a way, we have a couple things in common. For one, he's caffeine dependent and is a cat person and he has no margin for bullshit. He always is looking out for other people even when he likes to pretend or convince himself that he doesn't give a fuck. We both work with kids, so there is that too." Shota gave a small hunch of his shoulders. "So, I think at the very least, we have a mutual understanding of each other."

🙏 Do you think the mun would be able to survive in your world? 

Aizawa threw back his head letting out a bark of a laugh. The question alone was comedic gold. "He hardly can survive in the one that he's living in right now, and I don't even mean that woefully. One villain stopping traffic would be enough to throw him into a tantrum. He'd probably end up being just as much of a fanboy as Izuku is and that's saying something. Then again, if heroes were his reality, on the flipside he might actually have 0 interest in it and view it as something stupid and 'Keeping Up With the Kardashians'-esque" Shota gave a small toss of his head from side to side as he considered his next words. "He'd never be a hero and his quirk would be far from heroic, unless you consider healthcare hero work and I suppose it is in a way. He wouldn't view it that way though. More likely, he'd have some sort of cooking orientated quirk and I suppose he'd be able to get by with that. It probably would be something along the lines of having the ability to make perfect measurements every time. He has a talent with the gas pump too in that regard and almost always gets the cost to match an even number. If you can call that a talent that is."

⏳ How much time does the mun spend on your blog? 

Shota raised his brow with question. "As in like...maintenance things or like in general? As far as maintenance goes, he is actually pretty bad at those kind of things. He likes doing HTML stuff and all that but you're never going to get an elaborate page or graphic out of him. He actually has made an attempt with this blog to not strive for aesthetics and feels that it takes away and distracts him from what he really wants to do; which is roleplay. He also figures that if people want to write with him, he hopes it's for his actual writing. And not whether or not he can make his page look pretty." Shota let out a soft hum of thought. "And I suppose that's rational." "As far as how much time he spends looking at this blog, the answer is way too much. He usually isn't someone to obsessively check his notifications on his phone but since he's excited to be back into roleplay, he has been doing just that. He isn't constantly refreshing his page or anything but, the moment he gets a notification, he tries to check it at the very least."

☀ Does the mun have other muses beside you? What is your opinion on them?

"Other muses besides me?" he repeated, his teeth bared in it's usual disturbing way, amused. "As of right now, yes and no. D.A has had a lot of different muses in the past from all over the place. He actually came back to this hellsite with the intention of playing Alastor Moody again, but has decided to remove Al from the fandom that he is in and make him an OC. He really needs to get on that but I've been serving as a distraction." "D.A. has played all sorts of characters but always ends up writing anti-heroes and certainly has a type. Al & I have a lot in common; we're both teachers, amputees and missing an eye. I also would say even as far as personality we're quite the same. Gruff on the outside but caring on the in. We even both have two siblings I can't speak about myself but, Alastor is undoubtedly a true hero and a good man over all. He surly has a 'Plus Ultra' personality." "He has debated picking up a few more BNHA characters, but wants to make sure that he is able to run my blog first before he gets Al up and running. Then he'll think about other characters. He has also considered possibly putting Al on a multi-account but is unsure of what other muses he wants to play anyway."

[rollercoasterwords]

i think a huge problem with the whole “fanfic doesn’t need to alone with your own moral code” argument is that people are using if to defend things like racism. and that i don’t get. sure everyone has different morals but hurting marginalized groups especially if you don’t belong to that group is objectively wrong. i think it goes past just morality

hey! i think i understand where you're coming from, and i talk in this post about my view on the best course of action if you are concerned that a fic is genuinely perpetuating harmful stereotypes or rhetoric. it is very late at night for me so i don't have time to write another entire essay, but just one thing i want to say before i lose the thought.

i tried to make it as clear as possible in my post that i think good art is a conversation. this means good art will sometimes engage with difficult topics in a way that may make you uncomfortable, and as long as it's properly tagged, it is up to you whether or not you read it. do i think people should put effort into researching and sensitively portraying topics that they have no personal experience with? absolutely. but because fanfiction is a hobby and is often not thoroughly edited and whatnot, people are inevitably going to fuck up. i think, because fanfiction is meant to be a community, it's important to go into it giving each other the benefit of the doubt and assuming that people are trying their best. for me, when i come across something that i find offensive or inaccurate, i typically assume the person is uneducated or has some internalized biases they need to work through, and not that they are actively trying to perpetuate harm.

however. that being said. what you're referring to is racism. with everything i just said in mind, i'm going to assume we are on the same page about what racism is here--which means actively feeding into a harmful stereotype or rhetoric, rather than just discussing racism within the context of the story in a way that may be triggering for some people on a personal level, but is properly tagged and warned so that each reader can make the best decision for themselves about whether they are in the right headspace to engage with heavy material (does that make sense? hopefully i am explaining that difference correctly.)

if we're talking about racism, in that context, then that falls outside the bounds of what i said in my previous post about morality and art. that is because racism, by definition, is doing the thing that i said bad art does--it is presenting a set of moral guidelines and telling you to accept them as truth. it is not a conversation; it is not inviting critical thought; it is pushing the narrative of white supremacy and expecting you to agree with it. racist art is bad art. full stop. and it is bad art because it is not a conversation, it is a fucked-up set of moral guidelines.

for me, personally, when i am evaluating like....the morality of a piece of media, what i come back to is the question of conversation. i am wary of any art that tries to sell me a narrative as absolute truth and expects me to swallow it. but i am open to engaging with topics that make me uncomfortable, as long as they are presenting those topics in a way that is clearly meant to make me think critically and ask questions and draw my own conclusions. when i say fanfic doesn't have to align with your moral code, i mean that i think it is okay and even healthy sometimes to read about characters who do and say and act in ways that are shitty, but that give us something to think critically about and reflect difficult realities in our own lives. i do not mean that fanfic should be like....imposing a shitty moral code on you, because i don't think any art should be doing that. but there is a difference between those two things, y’know? and it's important to learn how to suss out that difference and recognize it when we engage with any form of media.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

That Hits Me Where I Used to Live...

We're not talking about some book to be read to children, like Heather Has Two Mommies and One is Black. They have gotten rid of the most recent version of a book that I had when I was learning how to teach preschool. It's a book put out by the National Association for the Education of Young Children - which I was a member of until my broken body got in the way of my simple ambition to teach small humans who need to be carried sometimes. The NAEYC accredits teachers and preschools and sets standards. They have thrown out what is essentially the OSHA handbook of best practices for educating your young children.

And why have they done this?

...Because it tells teachers to treat kids with queer parents with equality, dignity and worth, and that they should try to keep systemic racism out of the classroom.

Developmentally Appropriate Practice (we just say DAP) has been the foundation of preschool education in the States for almost as long as I've been alive. The deal is that children are not just smaller, dumber adults. Their brains and bodies are growing, so you want to serve them appropriate activities as they change. They're not all going to go at the same pace, but kids of a given age will be about ready for certain concepts - some may need a little more help and some a little less.

This concept should not be political or controversial. They always say they're so goddamn concerned with biology, so you'd think conservatives wouldn't be freaked out by the idea that children grow up.

Young kids have tremendous anxiety about being safe and accepted in school. When they hit preschool, a lot of them have never been away from their caregivers, certainly not all day. Some of 'em get so scared they just stop talking. There will be kids who don't trust you enough to communicate that they need to use the bathroom, and then they will detonate on the floor. They will hide the fact that they're sick with 100+ degree fevers, or in pain, or bleeding. If you don't make your classroom a safe place for young kids, they won't just be miserable, they will be biohazards, okay?

But, oh, my god, the evil book acknowledged the reality that children come from all kinds of families, and systemic bias can hurt them.

Listen, forget marginalized minorities for a sec. BOYS get shitty treatment in preschool, okay? Most of the teachers are women, and when boys roll up with their loud, active, and sometimes aggressive gendered socialization, a person who grew up female can get very confused and impatient with it. They're trying to get more male preschool teachers, so there's someone in the room with context, but the job is low status, low paying and gendered female, so there still aren't that many.

If gender alone can make a teacher treat a kid unfairly, culture and ethnicity can do it too. The book of standards and practices would like your child's teacher to be aware of this, and try to self-police. That's all. And conservatives can't handle it. The book says you have to be respectful of people's differences? BURN IT!

This thing where they're coming after trans people is cover. It's loud and obvious and horrifying, and it makes it harder to see the smaller horrifying things that aren't getting as much media attention. Conservatives do not care whether trans people live or die, they're just a convenient excuse right now. This book isn't a book for keeping trans kids safe, it's a book for keeping all kids safe. Like, minimal standards of safety. And in Alabama, it's gone. All they had to do was say "it's woke." Poof. No more nationally-accepted standards and practices for preschoolers. Like magic.

God fucking damn it. We can't sleep on this. I don't know what to do about it, but it is NOT OKAY. I knew that the best we could do was slow it down and give people more time to get safe. I knew that. Intellectually, I knew that. But they're knocking out the safety rails that make it harder to hurt the smallest kids. What's next?

[bilbobagginsomebabez]

so like? what if i am crazy this time? what if i really did confuse the pfp, url, and description for another blog? what if my memory really is unreliable and flat out wrong in this moment?

well, i can't fucking tell. ptsd is a mental disorder for a reason. sometimes people with ptsd freak out. we're quite sure every single time that we're reacting to a real threat, but unfortunately your brain gets fucky after too many threats and you lose the ability to tell until the adrenaline has left your system. it's a chemical reality, not malicious intent. i also want to calm down.

if you want to build a community that's inclusive of the vulnerable, abused, and marginalized, you also need to get comfortable with and forgiving of ptsd and its related misfires. you have to get comfortable with assumptions of ill-intent and responses of judgement-free affirmations-- 'you're mistaken, i do have good intent, i only need you to explain your actual needs to me like a fellow person.' it's 'i'm being human with you, it's safe to be human back.'

it's not an assumption we have the luxury of making.

[thegreatduggo]

Last Bus to Tignes

I always had a problem at work with announcing my holiday plans. There was inevitably some major milestone on a project looming and I knew I'd get pushback on it. It wasn't my bosses who would object, it would be the client that I was working for - and more specifically, the client project manager who was on the hook to his own bosses.

And that made it harder to broach because the client didn't care about you as an employee - to them they were their resource who was contractually assigned to them.

Not to say that they were bastards - most were pretty decent - but they had a different view of you and your latitude to take time off. They put their project and their own personal standing first.

There would invariably be some rapidly approaching deadline and you'd be asked to delay until go-live. But in reality, any deadline beyond a couple of weeks out from when the project had essentially been completed, was almost guaranteed to be delayed.

On big projects, sometimes we had company-wide moratoriums on holiday time for anyone involved in the project until after go-live. On one particular project, I told my guys to take their time off as soon as possible because if (and when) the project got delayed, they'd be pushing back their holiday time for months and then something else would come along. My boss got really pissed at me for doing that with one of my team members. I was totally vindicated as the project didn't go live for many months after the original date.

As a consequence, I wouldn't bring up my impending travel plans until the last minute and it would inevitably be received with disbelief, then shock and horror. If I was really taking off on Friday afternoon, I'd say that I was taking off on Saturday and that I needed to leave early on Friday, when I really should have taken the Friday off to get ready in a controlled manner. Instead, I'd go into work and then work right up till the last minute - in reality, I'd push it beyond the last minute then go fucking ballistic trying rescue the situation.

On this particular occasion, I was going on a ski-trip to Tignes with a large group of friends. We were going by coach and the pickup point near Gloucester Rd tube station. Departure time was about 2pm.

I'd gone to work in the morning then come back home to Kentish Town to pick up my stuff. It was pretty chaotic and rushed but I got myself on the tube with enough time and a small margin for error.

As I stood on the tube train, I smiled to myself - enjoying the chaos and cutting it fine but all being well. Just at that moment it dawned on me that I didn't have my passport on me. Shit!

I jumped off the train at the next stop: Camden Town. Luckily, there was a train with a couple of minutes. I leapt onboard. To my horror, Chalk Farm was the next stop that came up - I'd got onto the wrong branch. I jumped off that train and exited the station to catch a cab back home. The cab got caught in so much traffic that I bailed and ran back with my big hold-all making running very awkward.

Back at home, I realized that there was no way I could get to Gloucester Rd in time by tube or taxi. The only viable option was by motorcycle. My trusty old Kawasaki Z400, which I bought from "Ironing Board" Mike Raven for 80 quid, in pieces - literally in a tea-chest. It was never legal in any respect for the year or so that I drove it round London: no MOT, tax or insurance and a bald back tire. I escaped parking tickets by parking in off-road spaces, against walls where the missing tax disk could not be seen.

Parking at Gloucester Rd out in the open for an entire week was very questionable. A ticket was highly likely but it was also a distinct possibility that it would be considered abandoned and either be impounded or stolen.

When we got back a week later, I was apprehensive. At first, I couldn't see it, but as I walked up to the space, I found it on its side. Had it just been knocked over? Who knows, but it hadn't leaked fuel and started up without any real issue. And there were no tickets!

A little side story...While we were waiting in the parking lot for the bus, Andy Cameron went off to get a pack of cigarettes, leaving his bag on the tarmac alongside all the other bags, waiting to load up. The coach opened up and we all threw our bags in and chose our seats. Andy showed up shortly after and asked if we'd loaded up his bag. We didn't pay any heed and just cracked jokes about how we'd left it behind. Andy chuckled along with us and didn't think any more or of it. The whole journey, Andy was bemoaning his sandwiches which he'd for got to take out of his bag.

When we got to the resort 24 hours later, Andy waited woefully for his bag to be revealed, until there was just Andy waiting and an empty coach luggage bay.

Andy bought a one-piece ski-suit and basically survived the whole week, wearing what he stood up in and a pair of socks that someone loaned him. So, we weren't surprised when every single morning we could hear Andy and Dave Brown arguing about how smelly each other's socks were. When we cleaned up at the end of the week, we found a rancid camembert cheese that Mike Brown had found in the fridge and placed under Dave and Andy's bunk beds on day one, lol!

[theghostofashton]

-

[knowlesian]

ofmd is an alternate history and fractured fairytale at once and i am going FERAL ABOUT IT.

the alternate history part is fairly self-explanatory; things did not go as planned/why and what if it weren’t like that are the guideposts they set in the first episode. ofmd takes place in a world of made up moths, a new name away from being just like the moths in our world, where crown royal bags are shovel covers, people wear crocs and funky little crop tops and pinocchio was available in print in 1717. 

these aren’t mistakes or goofs: these are purposeful narrative choices. they’re not trying to be historically accurate, but rather to create their own alternate world where shit happened when and how the writers want it to.

the fractured fairytale bit needs a moment of explanation, just in case anyone isn’t familiar with the concept.

a fractured fairytale is essentially a deconstruction of a classic fairytale. they’re usually absurdist, they use a narrative structure or story/characters people are familiar with to tell a new story with a lot more nuance and a more modern worldview, and at their best they provide a thoughtful critique of whatever they’re attempting to deconstruct.

in a fractured fairytale, you might have an exterminator named, i don't know. sal, who has a thick brooklyn accent and is fucking sick of getting called out here to deal with this ant problem and not getting paid, lady. he doesn’t say nothing about the weird little graveyard out back or the rotating cast of kids in the oven, but he draws the line at convincing a bunch of singing ants to march their happy asses away from a cottage MADE OF SUGAR for the third time this month. cast a fuckin’ no-munch spell or pay up, & etc.

you get the picture. fractured fairytales, much like their source material, also usually operate on the Rule of Cool. things happen because it makes the story best, not because linear time or real world logic must be factored in. (unless factoring it in for a second would be coolest, like when you want to do some tender brow mopping while a wound heals: then it’s allowed.)

which brings me to the part i like best.

most alternate histories tend to ask ‘what if things were worse’. that’s not the entirety of the genre; some also ask ‘what if things were different’, but there’s not a whole lot of ‘what if things were better’.

especially not for marginalized groups.

i see a lot of utility and catharsis in narratives exploring pain, whether that’s just depicting real life or investigating how things might have gone worse. my issue isn’t with their existence so much as the wildly skewed ratio, and that for where i’m at right now in life i’m painfully aware life can get worse. i know that because over my lifetime, in many ways it has. not all the ways! but enough that political pessimism (never my chosen or instinctive mode) is currently unavoidable if i want to acknowledge reality and fight back instead of sticking my head in the sand.

all that means that i am very interested in art that says: i am not here for straight-up escapism so much as i am a celebration of defiant and sometimes angry hope for better in the face of genuinely shitty odds.

the thing about landing a dart on the proverbial dartboard o’ marginalization is that you move through life knowing the world is not for you. the ways in which that plays out change depending on how many darts any of us land and where we land them, but in some way we are always, always being reminded that we exist outside the mainstream and are allowed in on sufferance and promises of good behavior.

it’s why we can’t say ‘hey, get your fucking boot off my fucking neck, who the fuck raised you’ without getting scandalized pushback for a lack of civility. ‘please, person i know is good and kind and i am not in any way angry with, would you kindly take your foot away from the spot where you have placed it? i can happily wait another five to five hundred years, of course, but i would so like to not be down here’ is how you have to word these things, or you get called angry. or crazy, or stupid, or lying— the point is, people like us so rarely get to win, and we have to be so, so nice about the shittier realities of our lives if we want to be as effective as possible when trying to get people to listen up and knock it off.

ofmd doesn’t deny the more horrifying aspects of colonization and empire exist and hold sway in the world they built. they just refuse center them or make the trauma/tragedy the point, but instead use these glimpses into a harsher reality to craft absurd and emotionally real situations, alongside characters who get to not give a single fuck about how the world thinks they should be acting and are not punished by the narrative for being themselves.

(this does not mean bad things will not happen to beloved and/or authentic characters: it just assures them the eventual win, and means the narrative doesn’t end up enforcing a bleak set of rules that unconsciously assume to push back against the status quo is to be eventually ground down or broken in some fashion.)

this is why lucius could never have been actually dead: it breaks the show, on a fundamental level. and shows a lack of thoughtfulness and intentionality, neither of which really ever seems to be an issue for this team.

this is why nana is great with pronouns but judgey about a lack of murder, and why jackie and jim have a drink instead of fighting it out, or why stede isn’t angry about ed’s pirate face/off plan and ed comes back to knock boots just in time.

it’s about the Rule of Cool, yeah, but it’s about more than that. it’s about looking the realities of a shitty world and shitty behavior in the eye and saying, but why can’t we imagine better? we can so, so easily imagine worse. why is it so hard to think: what if people were kinder and more honest? what if you got to exist in a stacked system where you are the one it’s stacked against and still win?

and then it’s also about deconstructing pirate (and colonizer) narratives and fucking around in the murky waters of identity and finding solidarity and how to live out solidarity in the first place and a million other things silly and serious and on this day, the day of our rainbow capitalism overlords FINALLY GETTING THEIR SHIT TOGETHER

i am very, very glad this show exists. because fuuuuuuck me running, did we need a win right now.

[gabreig]

As a Latinoamerican person, is so weird to me to see how most gringo fans (a word that we use for native english speakers, but mostly for people from the United States) are so freaking weird with Latino actors. I don't think the dumb fights on Twitter are just a thing of "Toxic MCU fans" or younger "stans", even when there some truth to this; the problem is that a lot of white gringo fans don't see Pedro or Oscar as people, they see them as products to consume, an "exotic" commodification. Both of them are tired of being encapsulated in this "spicy latino" thing that the fucking white gringos created, just for being replicated by people who claim to be "fans". All the people who does this are the fucking problem. People like this don't need to touch grass, they need to read a history book.

Makes me so freakin mad cause most of the fans of these men are WOC, and specially Latino people (like me) that loves to see two men proud from their countries and culture, that are taken serious and that can go far the stereotypes as actors. Yes, both are handsome but they are more than that, also you can express your attraction to them without being fucking weird about it. Is not that hard.

And yes, i know that even when they are from marginalized communities in the US, they still hold a lot of privilege rn. But thinking about it; if men with a good amount of power are still treated like that...what about the less privilege, what about the gringas that chase latino men like a prize?

Sadly, sometimes fandom realities are the micro example of real life problems being played as an "innocent game".

[eremiie]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧!;

❥ 17k words | pure fluff | eren x reader

❥ eren’s birthday is in a couple days and what better way to celebrate it by hosting a party with your friends? only, you can’t help but feel a little stressed out and a litte nervous.

❥ authors note; don’t remind me that this is two days late, i know i know, i needed a break, but i hope you enjoy anyways >:)

4 days.

"connie, sasha! can you guys stop messing around for three seconds?"

connie and sasha turned around at the same time, your hand impatiently drummed against the counter as you gave them an irritated stare. your patience was growing thin as you wanted the outcome of this event to be perfect.

eren's birthday was a couple days away.

it wasn't always that you wanted to prepare events, as a matter of fact it stressed you out a little too much to do so. but, this was an event you wanted to take charge of— you wanted it to go perfect with the help of some of your closest friends.

you had met eren only the beginning of your first year in college— this year. it was the classic i need a roommate, so do you, so let's be roommates thing. it made things a little easier on you, bills were easier to pay, school was easier to get to, and eren brought more comfort to you.

he made you more social, introduced you to new friends, and became a role in your life.

sasha crossed her legs from her position on the floor, setting her arms on the table, clasping her fingers while she nodded her head hastily. "okay, i swear i'm listening now."

"sorry." connie murmured with a scratch of his head. he leaned forward on the coffee table, a look that said carry on staring at you as you stared at him.

you sighed, guilt creeping up on you for the harshness of your previous sentence. "...i didn't mean to sound aggressive, i'm sorry, i'm just kind of stressed." you rested your head on the palm of your hand as your eyes trailed over the sloppy notes scribbled on a piece of notebook paper armin tore for you.

the top of the paper was practically glaring at you "eren's birthday party!!!" slapped between the margins in led. you skimmed the notes, some of your friends name with a dash pointed to what they would handle in relation to the party. you gave the paper a grim look, as you almost couldn't read your own writing.

it couldn't go too wrong right? you felt as if eren was somewhat of a picky person but deep down you knew he'd love anything that his friends presented to him because of the sentiment and thought behind it. eren wasn't too difficult, so why were you stressing so much? you have a great group of friends beside you that were even willing to go through with this birthday party. what was bothering you?

"_____," armin's hand slid to your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. he jolt you out of your thoughts, your head turning to the side to look at him.

a warm smile was on his face, blue eyes almost relaxing, almost putting you at ease. he removed his hand from your back and grabbed your hand that was in your lap, giving it a light squeeze. "you know, for one of eren's birthdays when he was a kid i made him a dirt cake and we sat outside and pretended to eat it." you couldn't help but giggle at the thought of a small eren and armin sitting in the grass playing with dirt. "he was happy enough to hang out with me and do that— he was also happy when mikasa embroidered him the letter E on a piece of cloth. he hung it on his backpack, i'm sure it's still back at his mom's house."

armin looked up to mikasa for confirmation and she nodded her head from behind him on the couch. she looked up to the ceiling, reminiscing on the small memory with a small smile as she fiddled with her fingers. "i'm sure eren would enjoy this just as much as a dirt cake."

"and a tiny E embroidery." mikasa added with a chuckle.

you let your hand smooth over the back of your neck and nodded. "yeah... yeah, he'll like it." you weren't sure if you were just saying that to reassure yourself or saying that because you meant it. either way, you picked up the mechanical pencil next to your elbow and began writing again.

"hitch," you repeated as you wrote down her name, your the end of your h flying as you lifted the pencil off of the paper.

hitch looked up at you from her phone. "what's up?"

"you know a lot of people." she looked up for a second tapping her chin, as if she was pondering.

"yeah... if i do say so myself, i'm a little popular." she shrugged her shoulders with a smirk and you rolled your eyes at her, the both of you letting out a small laugh.

"can you get the word out to some people you know eren knows?"

"who does eren know?"

"you know... besides us, maybe like..." you let your mind wander. eren wasn't the most social person but neither were you. in the least he was pretty known around campus, given his temper and his personality, not to mention his looks. he definitely got eyed around campus albeit only talking to a few people. you weren't surprised when someone waved hey to him while he was minding his own.

"i'm just messing, i'll figure out something." a light bulb went off in her brain, her eyes lighting up. "oh! i could even make a cute little digital flier to give them all the info— armin what's your address?" she had somewhat of a creative prowess that you were thankful for. always willing to help you with minor inconveniences whether it be your fashion choices, socializing with others, designing things, and much more.

armin began to tell her, his voice fading out as you looked towards sasha who now had her head laid down on the table, like you only moments ago. "sash," her eyes looked up to you and she picked herself up from the glass surface. "can you handle the cake and snack ideas?" you knew sasha would be the best bet for the food, especially considering she was currently taking a culinary arts program.

her eyes widened a bit, another haste nod of her head that made her hickory ponytail bounce with each up and down motion. "yeah, definitely! i have a friend that is really good at baking too, i could ask him for help on the cake."

you pointed the pencil in your hand towards sasha with a smile. "knew i could count on you, please spare enough for the party though."

she rolled her eyes hand reaching out to push your hand back down to the table. "shush, i was only gonna eat a couple bites of whatever we make— don't act like you've never treated yourself while cooking." you shook your head, looking back down to the paper and writing food and cake next to sasha's name hiding the small grin on your face. "caught!" she exclaimed, pointing at you with a snap of her fingers. "red handed!"

"oh, shush." you whipped your head behind you to look at jean who was sitting in between mikasa and hitch. "jean," and then to connie, next to sasha, his eyes low and his face straight— a clear look of boredom. "connie?"

the two boys answered with a small "hm?"

"can the three of us go for decorations like on..." you tapped the pencil in your hand to your chin. if eren's birthday was on the thirtieth, and you would be decorating on the twenty-ninth, you'd wanna get the decorations a little early on— better safe than sorry anyways. "twenty seventh or twenty eight?"

"decorations? this is gonna be fun." connie came more alive at the sound of decorations. with a  snicker, he rubbed his hands together like a classic villain in an old cliché movie.

"you guys are just coming with i'm not leaving y'all in charge of them. you'd fuck eren over."

"yeah? like how you wanna fu—" your hand slapped over connie's mouth faster than you could blink, connie's eyes going wide at the abrupt action and yours at the words that were beginning to spill over his lips. yes, you loved your friends but more often than not you couldn't stand them. sometimes you wondered if eren could've chose a better group of people to introduce you to. (in reality? you wouldn't trade them for the world.)

"no!" your response came out louder than you intended, the lot of your friends laughing. "can you not?" you turned back towards your paper, jotting down decorations beside jean and connie's names, your nose almost touching the white sheet with how close you were to it. the tingle of blood was flooding your cheeks and you took it upon yourself to take your time writing the date as well. "decorations, twenty eight."

"yes ma'am." jean replied clearing his throat with a small smirk on his face, glancing to connie before back to you. you sighed and rubbed your forehead.

"yes ma'am." connie repeated, small stifled chuckles trying to leave his quivering lips. you glared at him, and he tried not to smile, clearly dismissing how you were trying to kill him with a look.

armin spoke up, tapping your shoulder. "once you get the decorations stop by here, me and mikasa can help put them up the day of the party. you can come help too— make sure everything looks nice."

your attention was stolen, once again armin being the one who held it. "okay," decorating was already written next to mikasa and armin's names, but you marked the thirtieth next to it as well. "sasha, let's get the cake on the twenty-ninth so that it's closest to fresh as possible. i can come with right?"

"yeah, of course. i can pick you up that morning if you want me to."

that was perfect, you were practically beaming at the way everything was falling in place— everything felt as if it was falling in place, yes, but still your stomach flipped and your brain couldn't help but flood with the idea that something could go wrong.

you pushed the thoughts to the back of your brain and began to fold the paper in front of you neatly. "hitch, can i come over tomorrow? we can work on the digital fliers and figure out who to invite."

"sure, yeah, that's fine with me."

you pocketed the piece of paper and rose to your feet, pulling out your phone to check the time. you had been at armin and mikasa's place for four hours with your friends, and you had only been planning for a little bit— getting distracted was a hobby at this point. or maybe you were distracting yourself just because of the worry that the planning wouldn't go right.

"i'm gonna go," you stepped around the couch gingerly, avoiding the feet of your friends. "thank you guys."

armin followed your steps, standing up to trail after you. "i'll walk you to the door, the rest of them should be leaving soon too." he turned to the remainder, blonde brow rising over his eye. it wasn't a suggestion, you knew he'd be ushering them out the door soon enough.

"thank you, armin." not only thank you for a measly walk out the door, but a thanks to him helping you, keeping you at somewhat ease for the party. he was always so good to you— from helping you study when you needed it, talking to eren when he was upset with you. armin was always a shoulder to rely on, and you wouldn't have met him if it wasn't for eren. "thank you." you repeated under your breath as he opened the door for you.

the change in temperature as you stepped out the door felt better than it should have, the breeze hugged you tight, and you brought your hand to your chest as you stepped down the steps of armin's apartment.

you had a good set of friends on your shoulder, and a good plan in mind that you knew they'd help you with every step of the way. you breathed out through your nose and closed your eyes before turning back to the blonde, two calm oceans watching you with solicitude. "bye, armin." and another one of his warm smiles was thrown back to you as he waved and closed the door behind you.

when you returned to your apartment eren was asleep on the couch.

you moved as quietly as possible, shutting the door as quiet as you could muster. you slipped off your shoes and tiptoed over to the couch, every creak of the floor board felt like it could be heard no matter how quiet you thought you were being. although, when you peered down at eren's sleeping figure sprawled on the couch his eyes were still shut, he was still taken over by sleep.

even in his sleepy state his brows were still knit together, a small pout on his face as you listened to his slow breathing. his arm was supporting his head, the other one draped across his stomach and his hair wasn't in it's usual ponytail, hair messy and strewn about around his head and you almost wanted to let out a laugh at how cute he looked.

even though a bed probably would've been more comfortable, you didn't want to wake him. he looked pretty calm from where he was rested on the couch, eyes fluttering while they were still shut and lip twitching every now and then.

if you didn't know any better you would've bent down to place a kiss on his forehead, maybe the tip of his nose. or maybe you would've shook him awake and asked him to sleep beside you tonight. but you knew better and both of those options quickly dissolved from your mind before you could truly consider them.

instead, you took your time studying his pretty features until you felt like you studied long enough, almost surprised he didn't wake up, wondering why he felt like he was being watched. you spun on your heel and quietly creeped your way to your room, letting out a unsteady breath once you closed the door.

your back stayed pressed against the door as you looked at your feet. the chirp of an owl was almost too present, and if it wasn't for your thoughts you were sure you could've heard the television from your upstairs neighbor. you shook your head and face planted into your pillow, the bed bouncing up and down with the addition of your weight.

were you really worried about the birthday party? is that what was stressing you out?

the more you thought about it, the more it felt like a stupid party wasn't the sole root of your problems.

3 days.

you didn't even hear the sound of eren approaching you, too entranced with what was on your computer screen. when the rough pad of his finger tapped your shoulder you almost jumped out of your skin, your own finger moving quickly to switch tabs, your vision a blur and you not sure what you clicked before your head shot to face him. "eren!"

he put his hands up in mock surrender, glancing between you and your computer screen, intrigue in his green eyes. "what were you looking at?" of course that was the first thing he asked, that was just your luck.

you tapped your hands against the sides of your laptop, letting your gaze dart around the living room while eren waited a response that you were whipping up in your head. "a watch i'm gonna buy... for me."

"can i see it?" you almost rolled your eyes at how inconvenient that question was. your hand went to your mousepad, scrolling over to exit out of the tab, before looking back at eren. he narrowed his eyes as he literally watched you close out the tab in front of his face.

"no." your response was awkward— scratch that, the whole moment was awkward. "uh, what's up?" you shut your laptop as eren rounded the couch to come sit next to you. the weight of his body shifted you a bit, and his presence so close to you made you tense up slightly. his arm swinging over the back of the couch didn't help you either.

"didn't see you at all yesterday. when i woke up i checked your room and you were sleep." he checked on you? your heart practically skipped a beat at the simple sentence. you saw him almost everyday and have lived with him for almost a year now— why did he rack your nerves so much?

"yeah... i knocked out when i got home, but you were sleep when i got back anyways."

"where were you for so long?" genuine curiosity was present in his voice. "i was pretty bored here by myself, you know." his head tilted back to rest against the couch, his eyes still looking down at you as he let out an exaggerated breath.

you gave eren an uneven smile and crossed your arms. "with armin," you almost did a double take when eren's smile dropped.

"you left me to go to armin's house?"

"...i didn't think you wanted to come!" your voice came off defensive, and you quickly lowered it the nearer your sentence came to an end.

eren squinted his eyes at you, if looks could talk his would be calling you an idiot. he brought his head off the couch and leaned forward. any closer and he would be able to hear your heart thrumming in your chest. "you didn't think i wanted to come to armin and mikasa's house... you know, my childhood friends?"

when eren repeated your words back to you they did sound pretty dumb. you frowned, not sure if you were frowning at the boy in front of you or the stupidity of your sentence. your words tangled in your throat as they tried to form, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. eren leaned back, and you felt yourself gain control again, your heart quieting. "it was a last minute thing, i had to go to grab some notes from him and we got carried away."

"you and armin don—"

"mikasa! grab some notes from mikasa. calculus... calculus notes."

almost on cue, your phone buzzed from between the couch cushion beside you and your hand fumbled to find it, pulling it up once your phone was in between your fingers. you turned your phone up right, the blue light shining on your face as you read the small segment of the message hitch sent you. your finger swiped and your thumb unlocked your phone as you read the remainder of the text.

march 27th, 2:53pm

⤷ finished studying. you can be on your way!!!

⤷ i'll be omw in like 10

you looked back up to eren, his eyes already rested on your face. when you stood up from the couch, he still watched you as you maneuvered around the small space of the apartment clumsily. "i'm gonna be on my way to hitch's." you told him, grabbing your keys from the kitchen table and slipping on your crocs that were under it.

"you didn't have enough fun with armin yesterday?" when your head turned to look at him, his was giving you a bored stare, head hanging backwards over the couch, the flyaways around his face pointing towards the ground.

you stiffened at his statement, but nevertheless continued to move, your jacket coming over your arms and your phone slipping into the pocket of your sweats. "grabbing notes isn't fun, i won't be at hitch's for long either. you'll probably be home when i get back."

he pushed off the couch, taking long strides towards you with his hands buried in his own pockets. when he was but a few feet away, he stopped, and your eyes washed over his body. black t-shirt clinging to his skin and the band of his boxers playing peek-a-boo from where they sat a little above his sweatpants. when you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up the door was being held open for you, eren trying to suppress his small smile. "nope, probably gonna go hang out with someone."

"who?"

"you don't know her."

"oh..." you tucked your lip in between your teeth and opened the door wider for yourself. "okay, see you." and when the door shut behind you it somewhat startled you, and the walk to your car felt a little longer than usual.

the drive to campus felt a little longer than usual too.

when you did arrive the walk to her dorm was like expected, you made your way through the hallways, up the steps until you were standing in front of her dorm. your hand rapped her door a few times, a "hold on!" being yelled out to you once you stopped.

typical, the sound of rustling was coming from the other side and you heard her footsteps come closer until the door swung open. "here, here." she huffed out, opening up the door more so you could slip past her and into her room.

right off the bat you knew which side was hers— not that it wasn't your first time, just that she made it painfully obvious.

her clothes were scattered across the floor, and it was almost as if an invisible line was dividing her and her roommates side. a stack of papers and books on top of her desk, light from the lamp behind it struggling to shine through the stack. the other side of the desk looking pristine and neat— if you swiped your finger over top there wouldn't be a trace of dust. posters adorned above her bed as well as a small tapestry. "i see you tried to clean up before i got here."

"something like that," she waved you off, shutting the door behind her and rushing over to her bed to throw a couple pillows down then hopping up on it, patting the space beside her. "you know, i got some of the information down for the flier, i made it look pretty and shit last night i just need you to tell me a few more things."

you slipped off your shoes and hopped onto her bed as well, scooting back and pulling your knees to your chest as she scrolled through her phone.

"look," the device was shoved in your face, making you blink a few times as you waited for the screen to steady, a sage green flier with many small words looking back at you.

your hand wrapped around the phone, and hitch let go to watch your face. "you like?"

"happy birthday eren!" was big and bold dark green lettering, the title for the flier, while an old picture of eren sat to the side that made you let out a snort. beside it was the date and time for the event, as well as armin's address spanning across the middle of the flier from one end of it to the other. your eyes went back to the photo, but before you could get a good look at it hitch abruptly grabbed the phone back. "you don't like it?" a frown was on her face, and she inspected the image on her phone. "different color? is that what it is?"

you pursed your lips and leaned back against her wall. "i didn't say that— and the color is fine..." you stared at your knees as you remembered one of the first times you went into eren's room while he was sick. a tattered dark green cover was draped over his body and when you had pushed him about the condition of the cover— frayed ends and a few small holes here and there, he had told you it was an old gift from his mom and that he liked the color.

"hey," when you looked back up to hitch she wasn't to your side anymore, instead seated criss cross in front of you, hands in her lap and her phone discarded to her side. "what's up?"

you gave her a questioning glance before fiddling with your fingers that were propped up on your knees. there was nothing up with you— could you not do a little thinking? "nothing?"

"girl, please," she looked to her phone, it isolated on top of her sheets the green flier being the centerpiece of the screen. her fingers went to press the power button until the device went black, and your eyes couldn't be on it anymore, forced to give your attention to hitch. "is it about eren? you seemed to really like the picture of him on my phone, even though i stole that from our high school yearbook. he looks off with short hair doesn't he?"

come on— you couldn't possibly get any more predictable than this. "i was just thinking about his favorite color." which wasn't a lie, you were, your thinking just happened to go deeper than just his favorite color.

"you cannot lie to save your life..." hitch threw her head back as she began to laugh at you, her short hair bobbing on her shoulders as her hand came up to cover her mouth while her laughs died down. "favorite color my ass. what is up for real?" hitch knew you liked eren, they practically all did... except for eren himself.

your head fell into the space created between your knees and chest, and you groaned. "i don't even know myself. he just, he just—" a sound of frustration left your mouth, but was muffled by your legs. "i want this to go well for him." you picked your head up, but you weren't satisfied with your answer. by the way hitch looked at you, you could tell she wasn't either.

"keep going, i'm still listening." hitch's head nodded slowly, a reassuring nod— telling you it was okay to keep speaking, her ears were open to hear you out.

"i want this party to go well for him, of course i do; but after today i feel so dumb for putting so much time into it. maybe i'm overthinking it but i told eren i hung out with armin and he told me he was going to hang out with some girl i didn't know, and it just... i guess rubbed me wrong— so now i feel like i'm putting all my time into this for him and it'll kind of just mean nothing, all my time into planning this party that i feel like is stupid. i feel stupid."

it was like a dam broke, your words had flooded out, and you had said more than you wanted to, yet it still wasn't enough. hitch was satisfied— but you? you were not.

she grabbed some of your hair, pulling your head up by it. surprise danced across her features, surprised to see you weren't weeping, albeit your voice sounding shaky when you spoke. "i haven't seen eren pull anybody ever since we were in high school together, i doubt he all of a sudden has a girl or whatever." she gave you a half smile, hands coming up to grab yours, and your legs slid down into a criss cross position as well.

"plus the party isn't stupid and you're not stupid. it's not about how you feel about eren, it's about giving him and us a good time for his birthday. did you forget that it's for his birthday? shit, if you don't wanna plan it, i will— admissions gonna equal a bottle of booze." her chuckle was contagious and your lips couldn't help but upturn as you let one out too.

"listen, whenever i have a crush on someone i just go for it, you know? just tell him. maybe he was just trying to get you jealous or something." she shrugged her shoulders, while she played with your hands that were enveloped in hers.

"we live together, i don't wanna make it weird."

'it'll only be weird if he says no."

"which is a big possibility."

hitch glanced off to the side before letting her eyes settle on you again, her lips shifting as she looked for what to say. "um... but he could say yes too. you won't know if you don't ask. if you're not willing to move forward and take the risk you don't like him that much. if he says no eventually the two of you will go back to normal anyways." you did like him that much, you were just an anxious mess. especially when he was around; which was quite ironic considering you spent most of your time around him.

you let hitch's words sink into your flesh as you stared at her thumb smoothing over the soft skin of your hand. she wasn't totally wrong, you wouldn't know unless you asked, and nothing would really happen until you asked either.

"do what you will with that information." hitch cleared her throat, letting go of your hands and shuffling to sit beside you, grabbing her phone on the way, then turning around to sit her back against the wall as well. a thick silence fell over the two of you, and if it wasn't for how close both of you were it would've been awkward— for you, it was you and your thoughts talking, but for hitch?

"so... who are we inviting again?"

2 days.

"what do you think of these?" you flipped over the packet of balloons examining the details scribbled on the back, waiting for a response— but to no avail. you didn't receive one.

you turned around, expecting to see a nest of ash brown hair hovering over you as well as doe hazel eyes, but jean and connie were nowhere to be found. a groan of annoyance left your lips and you slipped the packet of balloons into the shopping basket that was hooked around your arm. "i guess these will do."

today felt slow, no progress felt like it was made albeit you running around a family dollar looking for simple birthday decorations, while your friends ran around looking for only God knows what.

you weren't sure if it was because this task was somewhat easy, or maybe because in a couple hours you'd be returning to your shared apartment with eren, continuing to sneak around as if you weren't planning an event. continuing to have to ignore his questions when you'd come in a little later than you usually do, because if you had said you were hanging out with one of your mutual friends he'd look at you funny— ask why you didn't take him with you.

he wasn't wrong, his friends were his friends before they were yours; he is the one who introduced you to them, you all of a sudden devising your own plans with them and seemingly having the time of your lives while he sat back at home of course rubbed him weird.

he didn't question you too much though.

he knew his birthday was coming up— he might be dense but he wasn't completely stupid. although he had no direct hint to you planning anything for him, his friends planning anything for him, the lack of mention of his birthday being soon was almost alarming. he hoped your running around without him had at least a little to do with his birthday.

and for that you thanked him, because besides your little crush on him, the whole mess surrounding his birthday made your stomach churn, having to keep something from him for so long racked your nerves and made it even harder to be around him just in case something accidentally slipped.

you dragged your feet to the isle next to you, peering down it to see the two boys you were looking for, jean and connie. you noticed them before they noticed you, connie's hands grabbing at something and throwing it in the basket in jean's hands. "guys," you said loud enough for them to hear, both of their heads whipping to look to you.

both of them slowly made their way towards you until you met in the middle of the aisle, your arm crossed and your lips pursed. "looking for decorations was fun by myself." your tone was sarcastic, and connie caught on nose scrunching at your comment, his hand coming out to pat your shoulder.

"listen, listen— i was getting eren's birthday present!" he replied, giving you a crooked smile.

your eyes darted between connie, jean and the small basket in his hands, dumbfounded. were you missing something? you didn't see a "birthday present" anywhere. you glanced back up to connie, confusion littered on your face. "where?"

connie's smile dropped, quickly turning into a frown and jean let out a short chuckle, connie glaring at him. he pointed towards the basket, then grabbing it and tilting it towards you. "snacks, and candy and shit. who doesn't like snacks?"

you looked into the basket, and inside was an arrangement of snacks— none that you could remember eren eating, maybe besides the flimsy bag of potato chips and sour gummy worms. "it's the thought that counts." you mumbled mostly to yourself, but both the boys in front of you heard, connie rolling his eyes and letting go of the basket.

it was ironic, because if it was just the thought that counted to you maybe you wouldn't be stressing so much over the party you were in the midst of planning. you wish you could take your own advice, and maybe be like connie and do something simple for eren without beating yourself up too much.

"shut up— we need to get a bag for it." connie mutters, but you knew he wasn't genuinely upset, he could care less what you thought of his present. if it was something he enjoyed it was most likely eren would enjoy it too. at least that's what he told himself.

"we need to get everything else for the party too— you guys left me when i was looking for balloons." your hands flew out from your sides, clearly exasperated with their lack of care for stranding in you in the isle over without a word.

"we didn't leave you, we just went an aisle over to get his gift."

"so you left me?" connie's eyes slide over to jean, who walked past the two of you, clearly trying to leave the store as soon as possible, or maybe dissociate himself from the small ruckus you were creating in the middle of the store.

"technically, no..." he murmured, walking past you as well, and you brought your hand to your forehead before speeding up your pace to catch up to jean, walking beside him instead of behind with connie.

the three of you walked in silence until you reached the decorations aisle, fingers brushing over the arrangement of decor, but you were mainly focused on the miscellaneous decorations, party streamers, tissues, table covers, and much more you couldn't name.

"jean?" he looked down at you, standing next to your figure who was crouched on the floor to be head on with the decorations seated on the small bottom shelf.

"what's up?"

you picked up two packs of table covers, in each of your hands, standing up and examining both packages, the only difference being the colors. "which one?"

jean took the white pack from your hands, turning it over then grabbing the dark green pack from your hands and looking it over as well. "they're both nice to me." he shrugged. he didn't see why the color of the table covers, or any decoration mattered so much. like you he knew eren wasn't too picky, yet you still continued to try to perfect every aspect of this party.

"well, which one do you think eren would like?"

jean furrowed his eyebrows at you, dropping both packages into the basket in your hands opposed to his— although he was helping with the party he wouldn't be paying for anything he didn't need to. "eren wouldn't care, _____."

you sighed, eyes drifting down to the new contents of your basket. "yeah, but—"

"just get both, and decide when we go there, he'll like either."

you fiddled with your hands, nodding your head and walking past jean to the party streamers— you didn't ask for his opinion, reckoning you'd get the same answer, so you slipped both the white streamer paper and dark green into your basket, making your way towards connie who was plucking a small paper bag from the rack.

"i'm gonna put it in this bag." connie said as soon as you had stopped in front of him, shoving the bag in your face, your hands coming up to lower it so you could see it more clearly. it was nice, a small blue bag with "happy birthday" sprawled on the front, in sparkly letters, and you smiled at connie who pulled it away from you.

"that's nice, i should get a bag too for his present shouldn't i?"

"well you're not putting it in a box are you?" you shook your head, it'd be better to put it in a little birthday bag then having to spend time wrapping it, so you stood in connie's place who moved aside to let you take a look at the arrangement of bags.

there were so many, but a pretty white one caught your eye, it was simple, happy birthday written in small text on the front in black, a period ending the short statement. the paper bag had two black ribbon handles that were rough to the touch when you had pulled it off its rack. "this is nice too, right?"

connie looked to the bag in your hand, nodding his head. of course he'd think it's nice, he wasn't like you— it made no difference from the bag in his hand. they were both made out of paper and both could complete the same job. you wished to have that mindset. "yeah, what did you get eren for his birthday?"

your eyes widened slightly, you were somewhat surprised he asked— or maybe surprised that he was the first to ask. you took pride in the gift you had bought him when others asked or when you had explained what it was to mikasa, but when it came to eren you were a little nervous to know if he'd like it or not. "just this custom watch, i thought it would be thoughtful."

jean came up behind connie, connie placing his bag into jean's basket. "yeah, i think he'd like it, i mean— i don't wear watches but i'd wear it once or twice."

you narrowed your eyes, scoffing at connie. "well good thing the watch isn't for you, let's go." connie shrugged his shoulders, and you went to grab paper plates and cups, even party hats just for the gag of it, soon enough making your way to the check out and buying all the supplies. your total was higher than you expected, and you blamed your indecisiveness, yet you would still buy whatever was needed for the party at hand.

the three of you loaded into jean's car, you placing the bags beside you and your phone buzzing. you pulled it out of your pocket to check the notification, a message from eren. you swiped left, having to swipe a couple times because of how fast you attempted to open the message. it was rare he texted you when you were out, especially when he knew you were out.

march 28th, 4:47pm

⤷ [attachment 1 image]

⤷  your package? where do you want me to leave it?

you knew right off the bat what it was, the watch you had just told connie about. when you had last checked the shipping date it wasn't scheduled to come today— it was one day early.

march 28th, 4:48pm

⤷ put it in my room, thanks

⤷ okay

you had dropped your phone into your lap, looking out to the window but it buzzed again, and you scrambled to pick it up once more.

march 28th, 4:53pm

⤷ wya?

⤷ in the car, i'll be home soon.

"can you guys take me home first, actually? we can take the stuff to armin's house the day before eren's party." you leaned forward so jean who was driving, could hear you, his head turning slightly as he listened.

"why?" your phone buzzed again, and just like that you forgot about the conversation at hand, diving to pick up your phone, eager to see what eren had sent now.

march 28th, 4:55pm

⤷ your car is here

⤷ oh, you're with who?

⤷ jean and connie

"i just want to go home for now, it'd be easier if we just brought everything over there when we go decorate." and even though jean disagreed, he began the route to your place instead, deciding not push any further.

although your phone didn't alert you that you got another notification, you went to go check anyways, grasping the device in your hand as you went back to you and eren's messages.

read, 4:55pm

you didn't even realize the small frown that was painted on your face, you placing your phone back into the pocket of your jacket, settling down into the seat you were sat on.

"yeah, take me home first."

1 day.

"how's this?" sasha tilted the bowl of frosting towards you, and you took a glance, the frosting a pretty shade of green, much like the flier hitch showed you two days before.

you nodded your head, "yeah, that color works.", and your friend smiled, spinning on her foot to place down the bowl of frosting beside the one of icing. she seemed more excited then you about the making of the cake. not to say you weren't excited, but it was more accurate to say you were highly strung about how it would turn out— more than you should have been.

"nico, grab the cake, i think it's chilled long enough." she dipped her finger into the bowl of frosting, putting it up to her lips and humming at the taste. "oh, yeah, that's good. eren better like this!" and you hoped he would too.

you tsked, grabbing the bowl and moving it over so niccollo could place the cake on the counter next to it. "what design are you thinking?" he asked, arm draping over sasha's shoulder as the two of them stood in front of you. although they didn't date you couldn't help but find them cute. you wondered if sasha or niccollo were in the same dilemma as you— only it seemed that their feelings were reciprocated opposed to you and eren.

you pondered for a second, recalling what you had thought up a couple nights ago. it was simple, "pipe the edges with one of those swirly tips, with the white icing, and.. write happy birthday in the middle. small letters." the small letters were somewhat of an improvisation, it reminded you of the small letters on the front of the gift bag you had got for eren.

as you spoke, sasha moved to grab the pipe tips and piping bags, as well as a spatula, placing the utensils down onto the surface next to the frosting. "i can see that in my head— it's gonna be so good, it's gonna look so good." she glanced up at niccollo, and he was already looking at her, a small smile on his face. "can i frost?"

"...you can frost with the green, i'll do the white; the piping and the words."

sasha beamed, clearly happy with whatever she could get, and she grabbed the spatula, scooping up some frosting and beginning to spread it across the cake. she smoothed the thick coat over the swirl cake, trying her best to cover the top, and you could already envision what it would look like in your head, and it wasn't bad. sasha wouldn't dare for it to look bad with how ecstatic she was to be making it, and you were sure niccollo wouldn't either.

it was mainly your idea, and niccollo and sasha would bring it to life. you would hope eren would like it as much as how much you liked the image of it in your head. "so what did you guys buy for snacks?"

niccollo made his way over to the sink, washing his hands before flinging them so water droplets flew in the sink. "well we bought the basic stuff, chips for the guac, candy for the bowls, and some drinks, plus beer at your friend hitch's request."

you laughed, hitch wouldn't be the only one enjoying it, the lot of you guys liked to drink. you knew eren would be appreciative at the gesture. "it probably wasn't just hitch who wanted it." you watched the blonde dry his hands, leaning against the sink counter. "so you're gonna make the guac, the guac for the chips?"

he nodded his head. "oh, yeah of course. i just can't make it today, i'll make it at... armin, armin's house?" his response was a question, and you nodded as well, letting him know he was thinking of the right person. "yeah, sash will get the stuff and i'll make it that day so it can be fresh."

"okay, that's good. are you gonna come to the party too?" you didn't know him personally, only having met him through sasha who you didn't know how she met him. she had seemed to have taken a liking to him, and you just followed through. after all like you said, they were cute, you wouldn't be surprised when sasha would break the news to you.

"no, i have work that day... i'll be there beforehand to help sasha and you, and everyone set up, if it helps."

"no, yeah— it'd be a lot of help." you gave him a small smile, sliding over more towards sasha to check on the cake. "so, out of curiosity; how did the two of you meet?"

sasha grinned at the question, grabbing some more frosting with the spatula and slapping it onto the side of the cake. she didn't give niccollo time to answer, mouth opening to do so for him. "culinary class! he's so fucking good at cooking, like how?" she tilted her head back to direct the grin on her face at him, and he gave her one back.

"yeah, sasha's not too bad herself either. how did you and sasha meet?" his words sounded like an understatement and you chuckled.

but you and sasha meeting? it wasn't much of a story to tell. "oh, just through eren at the beginning of last semester."

"eren? the birthday boy?"

"yeah, birthday boy... he introduced me to all of them really, nothing special." you shifted on your feet, hands coming together so you could play with your nails, looking down at your hands.

"tell me about you and birthday boy— how did the two of you meet?" you didn't know someone could ask so many questions, but it wasn't like you didn't ignite the conversation to save from the silence.

sasha's shoulders bounced as she laughed softly, and although you couldn't see her, her still smoothing away at the almost completely green cake, you glared at her.

"he's my roommate. i needed one and he needed one, and you know how that goes."

niccollo raised a brow. he clearly caught onto the way you tried to brush the topic off too fast, but so did sasha despite her being occupied. wasn't he majoring in culinary arts? not psychology— there was no reason for him to read you that fast. "and how does that go, _____?" sasha titters and you could tell she was smiling from the tone of her voice.

"fine." you were blunt, your voice montone apart from the small falter at the end of your sentence. "it's cool, having a roommate, he's nice and fun to have around."

sasha's expression mimicked niccollo's, her arms crossing and her brow going up before she walked over to the sink and began to wash the spatula, the water somewhat saving you from the awkward silence, the same one you had tried to stop earlier. sasha broke it though, and in the worst way she could.

"she likes him."

your hand slapped your forehead, and you let out an exasperated groan, both sasha and niccollo laughing at you, but sasha must've felt somewhat bad, a pout on her face as she came over to pull you into a tight hug. "sorry, but you weren't gonna say it and it's kind of obvious."

"well you didn't have to say it out loud." you didn't hug her back, one hand sliding down your face, and the other hanging at your side.

"well how else would nico know?"

"he doesn't."

nicollo took over sasha's place at the counter, not phased by your reluctance to tell him. he tidied up her small mistakes when she was frosting the cake. "sash, can you fill the piping bags?" sasha pranced over to the piping bags after letting go of you and her hands grabbed them, placing the tip on the bags and then rummaging the drawer for a spare spatula, using it to scoop up some of the the white icing and stuff it into the utensil. "so you like him?"

you sighed. she didn't have to repeat it, but still you nodded your head, and then realizing he couldn't see you. "...yeah."

"she won't tell him though." sasha added, dipping another finger into the icing and sucking it off her finger once more. did she have to reveal everything? "i don't see why, if it was me i'd just tell him, what's the worst that could happen."

your eyes glanced between sasha and niccollo.

that was ironic.

"just tell him, who knows, he could like you back." the conversation sounded too familiar, and you rolled your eyes, why did everyone think this was such an easy feat? niccollo leaned towards the cake, icing squeezing out of the pipe creating an intricate swirl that was being detailed around the circumference of the cake.

you folded your arms against the counter you were leaning against, and let out a huff of breath. "it's not that easy. we're roommates, things will be awkward." and you felt like you were repeating yourself— is this what people called deja vu?

"i think eren might like her back." sasha moved the bowl of white icing onto the other side of niccollo and hopped onto the counter beside him, placing the other bowl in her lap, fingers tapping against the sides.

"why?" you were curious, you didn't think anything hinted that he could like you, especially not with the encounter you had with him when you were leaving for hitch's.

"i don't know," she shrugged. "when you guys first moved in together he would always talk about his," she mimicked his voice, "new roommate."

you blinked, then blinked again, arms unfolding and you picking yourself up from the surface you were leaning against. eren talking about you? you wanted to hear more. "that's it?"

another shrug, and another scoop of frosting. "i mean, he talks about you in general too."

"what does he say?"

sasha squinted at you, shaking her head. "i said in general," and her hands went up into quotations, "me and ______ are going to do this, last night me and ______ did this, shit like that."

your stomach twisted, and your legs felt a little wobbly. you cleared your throat, and you wanted to speak but you were a little bit in... shock? but niccollo spoke instead, "i finished."

sasha made a small noise of joy, hopping off the counter she was seated on and pushing over the bowl of frosting, peeking around niccollo to see the cake.

you padded over, standing next to sasha to see the cake as well; and it was pretty.

swirls danced across the edge of the cake, the white contrasting the soft green that was painted over the it and smoothed over almost perfectly. in simple bold letters, "happy birthday, eren." detailed the center, a small heart added to the end.

"it's nice... i really like it, yeah, this is what it looked like in my head." and you weren't lying, it almost was like a carbon copy of what you envisioned, and you were almost surprised at how well niccollo and sasha pulled it off, not that you should be, you did ask for help of two culinary art students. "thank you, thanks so much."

your face was lit up, and sasha and niccollo gleamed smiles at you, delighted that you were happy. being able to make you happy seemed to be enough for them. "glad you like it," he said, and you pulled out your phone to snap a quick picture, pressing the device to your chest. "i added the heart for you."

your eyes rolled back but you couldn't help but chuckle, another "thank you" leaving your lips and your eyes not leaving the cake, even when he went to put it in the refrigerator. once the cake wasn't in your line of sight anymore, that nervous feeling returned out of nowhere, for no reason, and your hands felt sweaty, phone almost slipping from where it was pressed between your chest and hand.

sasha caught on, grabbing your other hand and letting her fingers fall between yours, hands clasped together, and she was radiating solace, sucking up your worries and dispelling them for you.

"he'll like it."

"you sure?"

"of course! i'm sure."

happy birthday, eren.

it wasn't a normal occurrence for you to cook eren breakfast— as a matter of fact you couldn't recall ever cooking breakfast for him.

making dinner? yeah! there were plenty of times the two of you twirled around the kitchen, bodies bumping and fits of giggles bouncing around the small space, while you muttered "sorry!" to each other every now and then.

for now, it was just you.

eren hadn't woken up yet, and so to do him a birthday favor you decided to make him a birthday meal.

you flipped the pancakes cooking on the stove, sauntering over to the fridge and pulling out the package of bacon and plopping in onto the top of the counter. you felt like you had been in the kitchen at least every day now, and you couldn't remember the last time you had actually sat down to participate in one of your hobbies, or to relax. you sure were taking this upcoming event seriously, and you were glad your friend were too.

your fingers tapped against the steel of the fridge handle as your eyes skimmed the contents of the refrigerator; you felt like it wasn't enough, there was nothing special to you about some flimsy pancakes and bacon, so you grasped the carton of eggs and closed one of the fridge doors, leaning towards the side to plop them next to the bacon.

when you turned back around to close the other door, there eren stood, you practically jolting out your skin. "jesus!" you all but screamed, your hand flying to your chest and you stumbling backwards at his abrupt appearance. "eren!"

he chuckled, closing the fridge door for you and stepping forward to stand in its place. "g'morning." his voice was still groggy with sleep, and he still looked sleepy— his eyes still swollen from it, hair messily framing his face. his hair tie must've fell out while he tossed and turned.

your hand fell from your chest and dropped down to your side, tugging your shirt lower and fumbling with the fabric while your eyes glanced around the small kitchen. "morning."

"just morning? aren't you forgetting something?" you gave him a crooked smile, and he stepped forward until his hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your frame against his until you were engaged in a hug, minus the fact that your arms were still awkwardly against your sides.

your body began heating up and you felt like you lost control of yourself for a minute, hands taking a bit too long to wrap around eren as well. it was nice, he felt warm, and he brang a sense of comfort, so you relaxed against him a little more. heck, you didn't need time to sit down and relax or do a hobby when you had eren. he was enough to give you a break, just being around him was enough.

"happy birthday." your voice was merely above a whisper, but he heard it— a hum that could be heard through his chest, where your head laid.

"thank you," he said audibly, pulling you away, and you wished the hug could last for a little longer, hesitantly pulling back too and letting your hands smooth over the sudden goosebumps on your arms from the air of the room. "your pancake."

you quirked a brow at him, until your eyes followed his finger, the pancake on the stove that had been there longer than it should have, and you scrambled over in realization, eyes going wide as you fumbled for the spatula, slipping it under the pancake and flipping it over to check the underside. it wasn't burnt— the underside was just a little browner than it should have been. your free hand brought the plate next to the stove closer and slipped the pancake off the pan onto the plate.

"what woke you up?" you asked, as your hands went to grab the bacon and an extra bowl, turning down the heat of the stove and moving to strip the bacon from its packet, setting them down on the pan.

"the smell of your cooking." he smiled, arms crossed from where he leaned against the fridge. he slinked over, until he was behind you, peering down as you placed the last strip of bacon on the steel pan. "who's the breakfast for? me?"

you let out a small laugh, cracking two eggs in a bowl and eren followed along as you moved to the counter, then to the spice rack, grabbing two small spice jars and sliding back to your bowl. "yeah, actually. it's your birthday, right?"

"yeah." he moved over to the fridge, grabbing the bag of cheese and throwing it down onto the counter you were working at. "i like cheese in my eggs." you shook your head but your hands still moved to grab the bag, fingers pulling the seal open and your hand dipping into the bag to sprinkle some into eren's eggs. it was his day after all.

you didn't even realize he had moved from behind you until you heard the sizzle of the bacon on the pan, his hand setting down the spatula, and only then did you realize he had flipped them for you— his head turning towards you to watch you make the eggs, you whisking at the mixture. "thank you." you said softly, eyes lingering on his curious expression before turning back to the eggs. "anything you doing for your birthday?"

it was funny, how you asked that as if you and his friends didn't plan out a whole event for him alone.

he shook his head, as you expected and you couldn't help but let a smile creep on your face as you walked over to the stove, checking on the bacon, and eren taking your spot near the eggs. he slowly began whisking at the mixture despite them already being mixed. it was a domestic feeling, one that you felt before yet it still felt fresh, still felt new and it still made you want to live in moments like these forever.

"nah, you wanna do something with me?"

your lip twitches, and you place the bacon next to the stack of pancakes. the oil drifts to the side as you lean the pan and simply stare for a few minutes, before going to the sink and dumping it. you wiped the side of the pan and spread oil onto it before placing the bottle of oil down and reaching your hand out for eren to pass you the eggs.

he does, his fingertips sliding over yours as he passes it along, and you pour it into the pan, then turning to drop the bowl in the sink. "omelette or scrambled? and you wanna go to armin's later today?"

he scoffed, fingers drumming on the now empty counter he was leaning against, like he was in disbelief that you wanted to go there again; and it seemed that way from his next sentence, him practically bringing your thoughts to life. "scrambled, and you wanna go there again, you've been there like twice this week? what's at armin's?"

the spatula flipped in your hand, and you frowned at eren. "nothing, we should just go there for a get together— it's your birthday after all." your gaze shifted to the plate of food. "can you get another plate for me?"

although eren didn't answer, the sound of plates clinking as he reached for another plate, and the closing of a cabinet told you he complied. he placed it beside the other plate, sliding two pancakes onto it, including the almost burnt one. "two pancakes on your plate?"

and you nodded your head, "no bacon." you scraped some of the eggs onto eren's plate and scraped the remainder onto yours— you weren't too hungry, but you wanted to eat with him, so you made yourself a little too. "so can we go?"

eren's eyes followed you to the sink, where you placed the pan down, the steam rising from the water hitting the hot pan much like the steam rising from the eggs. you came back over beside him, hand patting his side lightly to signal him to move over a little so you could open the utensils drawer. his answer was reluctant, but you didn't think it was necessarily because he didn't want to go— you weren't sure what it was. "i guess, what time?"

you grabbed two forks and two spoons, placing them onto each plate and clasping your hands together, in content at not only the two full plates (if you'd consider yours full), but also at the confirmation from eren next to you. "like... seven? i'm gonna leave earlier though... i have some errands to do."

eren raised a brow, but shook you off, as if he just accepted you running around the usual now. he grabbed his plate and you grabbed the syrup before following behind him until both of you were sat at the dining room table. he couldn't help but still question where you were going though. "what errands?"

you repressed yourself from rolling your eyes, sliding the syrup across the glass table until eren's hands were wrapped around it, popping the top open and drizzling the sticky liquid over his pancakes. "i'm just gonna run to the store real quick, we'll meet up at armin's place."

eren once again didn't respond, pushing the syrup back towards you and poking at his pancake.

with a small sigh you slipped your phone out of your pocket and unlocked it, pressing a few buttons until you and armin's messages were open. your fingers danced around the screen until you began typing.

march 29th, 12:34pm

⤷ i might have to come a little later than i wanted to, spend some time with eren

⤷ ok, i'll text them to come earlier!

⤷ tysm, i'll probably come around 5

you placed your phone down on the table face down. you were somewhat surprised by armin's response time, but you were grateful nonetheless. you'd spend a little more time with eren, it wasn't a big of a deal, not even the small feeling of nervousness that came back was a big deal. with how well everything was going you were sure they could deal without your for a few extra hours.

when you looked up, eren's palm was holding his head up, as his other hand cut the pancake in front of him, a small pout on his face. you almost felt bad, if in the back of your head the surprise party didn't linger you probably would have felt bad. you gave a weak smile, and tapped the glass table to catch eren's attention. "eren,"

"hm?"

"happy birthday."

a few hours.

a few hours until eren's party, a few more hours of planning, few more hours of jittery feelings and sneaking around eren.

maybe a few more hours of questions, questions from eren, questions from your friends, questions for your friends.

"armin, pass me that last streamer."

armin took one of the white streamers from the table next to you, placing tape on the tip and you stepped down from the chair you were standing on to grab it. once you taped it your hand swam through all the streamers that were adorning the wall. they had came down from the ceiling, connected to the wall and then came down like a waterfall, a jade green, light green and white patterned across the wall.

"does it look good?" you asked armin, and his hands went to touch the streamers as well while he nod, surprised at how well you pulled off the design. hitch didn't seem to be the only creative one in the friend group.

"of course, of course, it looks really nice, it's creative too."

as you were about to respond, the pop of a balloon made you and armin flinch, both of your necks snapping towards the sound, connie and sasha both standing their frozen, the remnants of a balloon in connie's hand, sasha holding back her laughs.

stepping down from the chair, you sighed, and armin pat your shoulder. "i'll go help them with the balloons, don't worry." he stepped away, heading towards the living room to do just as he said.

you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding to check on the progress in there, mikasa cutting up tomatoes for the guac that niccollo was preparing, her hands moving flawlessly as she chopped away. "want to help?" she asked, not even looking up to see who walked in.

you had nothing better to do, everyone occupied with one or more aspects of the decrorating, so you said a "yeah," and she dropped the knife, placing another tomato down and grabbing an onion and another knife to begin chopping beside you. "how is it going out there?"

"out there" wasn't too far, you looked over your shoulder and armin, sasha, and connie were arranging the balloons, tying them with ribbon and letting some stray ones float. "they're doing good, i think, thanks for helping with the food."

"no worries." she continued to slice at the onion, but something else was itching her, and she couldn't help but ask. "how did you get eren to not follow you here?"

"'was hard, i hung out with him for a little longer, that's why i was late... and i told him i was running errands." you and eren didn't do much when you were with him, yet you still had fun, even though it was something as simple as chilling on the couch and watch television together. like you thought earlier, eren's presence was enough.

mikasa's head shook, scooping up the onions and placing them in the bowl where niccollo was working, squeezing a lime into the mashed avocado. "didn't take you as a liar," she joked. "what time is he coming?"

you shrugged, eyes glancing to niccollo who was mixing together the guac, then trailing to the grocery bag beside it. "probably around seven like i asked, i don't know. can you grab me some big bowls?"

mikasa went to grab a large clear bowl, placing it down beside you gently. "here," she handed you the bowl, a section in the middle for the guacamole.

"do you think he knows we're planning his surprise party?"

"he might have an idea about it." mikasa replied. "but not a big one, the other day he called armin asking why we didn't invite him over."

your hand stuttered, and you almost cut your finger while slicing the fruit in front of you. "what did armin say?" eren didn't question you further after you told him you had went over to study, so your lie couldn't have clashed with whatever armin told him.

she took the knife from your hand, using it to slide the tomatoes you cut off the cutting board and into the guac. you pulled the bag of tortilla chips out of the grocery bag and opened it up, pouring it into the clear bowl.

"armin didn't say much, he just said you had passed by and that it was nothing special."

you let out a sigh of relief, moving the chips around then pushing the board towards niccollo. "nicollo, put the guac in the middle when you're done." another bag, and another bowl that you poured the contents into. "when i got home from your house few days ago he asked me why i went without him and i told you i grabbed some calculus notes."

"that's close enough." she grabbed the bowl of tortilla chips once niccollo put the guac in the middle. "i'm gonna put these on the table."

"and i'll put the rest of the snacks in the bowls, you can help out there." niccollo told you, pulling the bowls away from you and ushering you out before you could say anything, his hands on your shoulders moving you to the entrance of the kitchen. you didn't question him, just taking your leave and heading towards the living room, wanting to see how the others were doing.

the decorations were coming together, balloons creating an arch around the television set, "happy birthday" letters connecting from one end of the wall to the other, hanging over armin and connie's head, and more balloons connecting together on either side of sasha and jean who were sat sitting on the couch.

it was beautiful, the greens, silvers, and whites all complimenting each other, from the table cover, to the streamers on the dining room wall, it was all a pretty sight to look at and you were filled with bliss, bliss at the fact that it was working out like you had planned, at the fact that your friends and you could put everything together so well.

"guys, you guys did so good!" you sounded cheery, and they caught on small smiles appearing on their faces at the joy on your face, it seemed seeing you happy made them happy too, just like sasha and niccollo. "i really love it!"

"see, i told you she'd like the arch." armin commented, hand pointing to the arch of balloons. "they wanted to just put balloons everywhere, i thought you'd like it if we made it more uniformed." and he was right, you did love it, it was more than you asked for, more than you expected them to do.

"yeah, no, i love this." you had pulled out your phone, preparing to take a picture but stopping for a moment, looking at the time. it was almost seven, and so you decided to text eren instead.

march 30th, 6:43pm

⤷ you can be on your way soon!!!

"i told him he could be on his way like an hour ago." a red solo cup was in your hand, and you were standing with hitch in the kitchen, her sipping at her own drink. you were getting fidgety, almost an hour had passed and eren wasn't here yet, nor did he respond to the last text you sent him. maybe he forgot?

"maybe he got caught in traffic." hitch shrugged, "i don't think he forgot." it was like she read your mind, but it didn't help to calm you— traffic didn't even sound plausible with how near you and eren's apartment was to armin and mikasa.

"traffic? seriously, we don't live far from here, he would've made it sooner than now."

armin frowned at hitch, "maybe not traffic, but maybe he's still getting ready, you know eren's always a little late places... just relax until he gets here." his hand reached out, palm up. "want me to refill your drink for you?" you knew he was just trying to ease you up, get something in your system and relax you until eren would arrive.

you were about to hand him your drink but then your phone vibrated, the light flashing from beside hitch and she picked it up for you, eyes moving back and forth while your screen illuminated her face, and you tried reaching for it but where she sat on the counter top she could easily pull it out of your reach, and that's exactly what she did, your hand stretching for your phone while she read it from where her arm was above her.

"hitch!"

"it's eren, he says he's here."

your eyes practically popped out your head, and you turned to armin, placing your cup in his hand, the liquid threatening to spill over the edge with how fast you shoved the flimsy cup in his grip, almost crushing it. "be right back!" you said loud, speeding past your friends to leave the kitchen and get to front door.

your heart pounded in your chest as you exit the kitchen, butterflies filling your stomach. you spun around the bodies of people (which was more than you expected hitch to invite) rushing to get to the front door, to get to see eren, to get to show him everything you all put together.

you almost stumbled over your own feet, apologizing to whoever you bumped into but not daring to look back, because the door was right there, and another burst of restlessness filled you when your fingers wrapped around the cold metal knob of the front door,  the air that hit you raised goosebumps on your legs when you swung that same door open.

you rushed out the door and down the steps, almost missing one in the process, but it didn't matter because there he was, those same wispy hairs you knew he never tried to tame even on his birthday still framing his face, blue green eyes steadying on your figure running towards him, and plump lips breaking out into a smile that you never knew you'd be so happy to see.

eren, he was here, after you didn't know how long, and you were happy, you were so happy you didn't stop running, crashing into him and causing him to stumble back, but god the small chuckle, the feeling of his smile against the top of your head was so beautiful, so relieving.

"eren," you pant out, your breath fanning his arm, and you pressed yourself against him more, like he'd disappear if you let go. "eren, you're here."

"i'm here." your eyes squeezed shut at his words, at the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders, letting you get as close to him as possible, your legs in between his and your head pressed against his chest like earlier in the kitchen. you never thought you would be so happy to see a person, and even though all the two of you ever did was hug it felt so new and so fresh.

you felt like you had been hugging him for only seconds, but when he began pulling you off you didn't complain because there was much more to show him, so many more things for you to be nervous to show him, but wanted to show him anyways because only god knows how long these things took to make for him.

"what took you so long?"

he scratched the back of his neck, tongue sliding over his lip as he grabbed your hand, the two of you slowly walking back towards the apartment. "i had fell asleep, sorry, i'm here now— i couldn't have missed much?"

"jesus, eren, i thought you forgot!" you cursed his stupidity. seriously? falling asleep moments before his party? he had you worried he was gonna miss it, and he could've.

"no, no, i didn't forget. being home alone is boring you know, so i took a nap." you looked down. you did leave him alone for a couple hours, on his birthday at that, but what he would see in a couple minutes would hopefully make up for it.

his eyes raked over you. "you look nice... and to think it's my birthday." he smiled, and although the moon was out, little light being casted on the two of you he didn't fail to notice your attire and compliment you, your hand squeezing his a little more.

"thank you," and you did the same, letting your eyes look over him, quirking a brow at his appearance; a sweatshirt that was covering the undershirt that was peeking through his collar, and some simple jeans— so much for it being his day. "yeah, you didn't dress up much, it's your birthday eren."

he began to swing your hands back and forth, not seeming to care much for your comment. "i woke up late, i just threw something on."

a silence washed over the two of you as you made your way up the steps, and you almost didn't want to go inside. you wanted to talk to eren a little longer, have it be just you and him a little longer because you knew he wouldn't be at your side for too long once you returned to the house.

"ready to go inside?' you asked as if he genuinely had a choice, but for some reason you still felt a bit sad when he nod his head, pulling you to the door with him.

your hand twisted the knob of the door, and if only you could've watched eren's face once you swung it open. a roar of "happy birthday, eren!" flooded both of your ears and eren quickly became the main attraction. he was the main attraction, it was his day, his birthday.

his mouth dropped open, eyes widening and eyebrows coming up in shock— no in awe, and it was no longer a "small" birthday party that he had in his head, there were lots of people he could recognize, lot of eyes on him, and pretty shades of green dusting the room. you felt his hand squeeze yours in return, and he almost didn't even notice his closest friends crowding around him.

"eren! happy birthday!" hitch pat his shoulder, beckoning for him to bend down a little bit, a party hat in her hand that matched the one on top of her head. his gaze broke from the room around him to his friends in front of him, and he bent down, hitch snapping the hat onto his head, you giggling at him as he adjusted it, a goofy grin on his face. if it was any other day, he probably would've refused to have such a silly hat on his head.

"yeah, happy birthday." armin said smiling happily to finally see eren, and smiling to not see you worrying anymore about his arrival. mikasa stood beside him saying a small "happy birthday" as well, and eren stepped forward to give both her and armin a hug before stepping back beside you again, his hand never leaving yours as he did so.

"do you like it?" the question was urging you to ask it, and eren looked down at you again, your nail pulling at your lip while you waited his response.

"do i like it?" he pulled you into a hug too, squeezing your shoulder. it was obvious to him, of course he liked it— how could he not? "so you planned this?"

"we all did."

"who's we all?"

you scanned the room, but it was only you, hitch, armin and mikasa standing in front of eren. "well, the four of us and jean, sasha, and connie too. i don't know where they are though, probably the kitchen."

"i love it, i really do, thank you guys so much."

you felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, like you were free from a burden you had placed onto yourself. everyone told you he would love it, and you knew it too. although, the feeling of eren himself telling you was a relief that never felt so good.

"i'm glad, let's go see the others." so eren's hand that was still intertwined with yours had pulled you along, the other three dispersing to do their own thing. small "happy birthdays" were said to eren as he passed people, and he occasionally stopped to greet someone he knew well properly while you stood back waiting patiently for him. hitch did him justice, most if not all the people he did know, even if you didn't, and now would be a great opportunity to get to know some more people but you chose to stay beside him.

when the two of you had entered the small space of the kitchen, sasha was standing with a plate next to connie. "eren, happy birthday!" her voice was muffled by her food, her covering her mouth as she spoke, but you could tell she was elated to see him with the way she perked up at the sight of him.

"yeah, happy birthday dude." connie blew a party horn in eren's face obnoxiously, and eren's face scrunched up, although you knew he didn't mind, as matter of fact probably the complete opposite. he was almost too happy and you could see it in his walk and his face.

"thanks guys, and thank you for planning this all out."

"thank _____ for getting us off our asses and forcing us to plan this shit." connie quipped, and you would've knocked his head straight if you didn't catch the jest to his tone that made you and eren chuckle.

he looked down at you after connie had pinned the party on you again, "so it was you who planned all of this basically. that's why you kept leaving?"

"yeah, i was planning shit out with them— i wasn't trying to leave you or anything." getting that off your chest felt equally as good, and it seemed that eren felt relieved as well, apart from the way his grip finally slipped from your hand.

"good... good, i love this, you did amazing, i appreciate this a lot." no words were enough to explain how much eren really appreciated you, appreciated everything you were doing for him— so all he could do was hope that you knew. "i'm gonna get a drink and look around, okay?"

"i'll be here." but your reply was short lived. instead of staying with connie and sasha you went to find armin for your drink. you needed it to calm the jitters that you were feeling, and you were glad when you caught him chatting with another blonde, who you surprisingly recognized but sadly couldn't recall her name.

"armin, my drink." the red cup still rested between his fingers, and at the sound of your voice he looked up, immediate remorse on his face when he saw yours, then looking down to the cup before passing it your way.

"i'm sorry, i forgot to fill it up." when you looked down into the cup it wasn't full, the liquid from before still swimming in the bottom. it was fine, everyone was occupied, trying to have fun and so you didn't mind, you'd just fill it up on your way to the kitchen, no big deal.

"who's this?" the girl turned to you, eyes bored as she tapped against the cup in her own hand, and armin looked between her and you, perking up. it was a chance to try to socialize, try to make friends, and you tried to take that chance.

"oh! annie, this is _____, she planned this all out, eren's roommate."

"hey!" you gave her a small smile, hand out for her to shake it, and she did, giving your hand a light shake before letting go. she didn't seem too interested in conversation with you, her blue eyes flitting over to armin every once in a while, while her feet kept turned towards him. "i think i've seen you around before, you look familiar."

she looked you over, studying your appearance before coming to the conclusion that she has seen you before. she put her cup to her lips, drinking before responding. "i'm here sometimes— armin's house."

armin next to you let out a nervous laugh, cracking his knuckles while listening to you and annie's conversation. "yeah, you've probably seen her around before, she comes here often."

you shrug, not sure if you had ever seen her at armin's place. although her face was familiar you couldn't really recall who she was, and you blamed your lack of socialization. you'd keep her name in your head, hopefully for future reference. "probably, but nice to meet you anyways."

armin waved, and you waved back before heading back over to the small crowds of people to get to the dining room, a selection of drinks splayed out for anyone to come and grab as they please.

hitch was there, seated on a table chair she pulled out, sliding a soda can towards her to pour in the alcohol that was already in her cup. she only noticed you when you walked over to stand right in front of her, her eyes gazing up at you before averting her attention back to her drink. "couldn't have asked sash to get some better booze?"

your own arms reached over to do just as her, a can of soda in one hand that you poured inside what was already in your cup— it upped the alcohol, and overall tasted funner. "don't think it was sasha who got it." you replied, taking small sips of your drink as if you were taste testing it.

"hm," hitch did the same, taking a swig of her drink before twirling it in the cup, setting it back down on the table in front of her. "i told you he'd come, and that he'd like it. you were stressing for nothing."

"yeah... i guess," you went to grab the chair diagonal from hitch, pulling it out from behind you and plopping yourself down in it. "where is he anyways?"

hitch looked ahead of you as if she was genuinely trying to find eren before looking back to you with a shrug of her shoulders. "not sure, he was over here a couple minutes ago with jean getting a drink." you missed him by a hair, and your shoulder slumped a little lower.

"he was over here?"

"why, you looking for him?"

you sunk down in your seat a bit, your feet tapping together while your fingers pattered against the plastic of your cup. you weren't looking for him per say, you just wanted to be with him, just have another moment with him, see him happy and see him enjoying himself in what you created.

"eren has got you fucked up— you need to, and i cannot stress this enough;" she pointed her cup at you, "just tell him." hitch let out an exaggerated sigh, her scooting down in her seat as well as she drank her drink again.

"hitch, please, i don't think you've understand how many times i have been told that this week, and nobody seems to understand how not easy that is." and you were right, it wasn't easy, there was too many problems that could arise if it backfired. you'd rather pine for eren for the rest of your life if it meant that things would stay natural between the two of you— if what you had going on now stayed.

"or you're just making it harder than it has to be." she had a challenging look in her eyes, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles, a small smirk on her lips.

you gave a her a questioning glance, not looking too long and shifting in your seat. maybe it was harder than it had to be. maybe it was your nerves telling you otherwise, maybe you were following the pounding of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach.

hitch looked you over, shaking her head with a small giggle before pushing her head from under her and standing up with her beverage. "i'm gonna go tell connie to change whatever the fuck is playing, i'll catch you later." and she walked around you, body disappearing into the bodies of people leaving you by yourself.

but not for long, a hand on your shoulder making you jump, you turning around and seeing eren, towering above you, a slight smile on his face. speak of the devil, it was the man of the hour— just who you wanted to see, and who you were happy to see. "hey."

"hey," you stand up almost too fast, pushing in the chair and standing in front of him. he steps back to give you some space, almost caught off guard with how fast you stood up. "what's up?"

he leans into your ear, making sure you're able to hear him over the sound of the music and the chatter of the people around the two of you. "want to go outside for a little bit? it's kind of too many people, just wanna get some air." the faint smell of alcohol is present on his breath, and it reminds you to grab your cup, nodding your head and taking his hand in yours— where it felt snug and right, just like it did earlier.

the two of you make your way out the house, and the air did feel good, it didn't feel stuffy, it wasn't loud, it was calm and quiet, the breeze of the night only chilling you slightly, but eren next to you made you dead to the breeze.

he walks forward, only a few steps and you follow along, until both of you are leaning against the railing that kept you from falling a couple feet or so, cup dangling off the edge in your hands, and the moon so bright in the sky it only felt a couple feet away.

"i feel like you don't know how much i actually love this." he starts, and when you look at him he's still staring at head, the glint of the moon making his eyes look ethereal, illuminating them in only the best way possible. "how much i appreciate this, this party, everything."

"i know, eren," a grin can't help but form on your face, and you could hear the words come from his mouth again and again. the feeling that his appreciation sent through you gave a sense of pleasure, a satisfaction and it brought a form of closure. "i know."

it's just quiet, it's nobody talking and it's just the two of you. you're allowed to relish in eren being beside you because that's what you wanted from the moment he arrived, you wanted to be with him, and so despite the two of you not talking, he was enough. the sound of his light breathing was enough, the heat radiating off of him was enough, the sight of him was enough.

yet, you break the silence.

"do you wanna see what i have for you?"

he finally looks your way, and his eyebrows are knit, pink lips only slightly parted, and your eyes can't help but flit down to them before coming back up to his eyes. you weren't sure if he missed your quick glance or not, his lips closing. "there's more."

"if i can recall, you get presents on your birthday right?"

this time, you're the one to grab his hand, and his fits in yours like a puzzle, and you're the one to pull him down the steps that you had ran down earlier, him being the one to finally trail behind you.

you walked him to your car, your hand digging in the pocket of your coat that albeit the warmth of the party you had managed to keep on, and you grabbed your keys, your thumb pressing down onto the black button that made the lights in the vehicle flare up. you place your solo cup on the roof of the car and your hand grasps the car doors for the backseat, opening it up and being greeted by leather seats and a small white bag.

you almost couldn't fathom that this small white bag only days ago you cared so much about, that the ribbon that your hands were holding onto mattered so much to you, the small lettering on the front mattered so much to you— and only moments ago eren couldn't express his enthusiasm for the party you planned for him.

all your friends who had repeatedly told you not to stress were right— if eren loved a stupid dirt cake, and a little embroidered letter, he'd love anything you gave him from a small paper bag or a couple of snacks to a watch, to a party.

you moved aside and eren moved forth, making himself comfortable on the seat of your car while you placed the bag in his lap, and he looked so adorable; the party hat that was splashed with color leaning a little too far right, and the cheerful smile on his face as he moved the tissue aside and peeked into the bag closely, before his head shot up and him beaming at you instead.

even though he didn't even see what was in the bag yet, his hand came to his chest dramatically, acting way too surprised for someone who wasn't even sure what you got him yet. "for me?"

you rolled your eyes gesturing to the present. you wanted him to see it so you ushered him on. "yes for you, now hurry up and open it, it's kind of cold out here." the cold was nothing to you today, your coat kept you warm enough.

he wasted no time complying, pulling out the small black box, a pretty suede under his fingers as he pulled off the lid, and his eyes shone as he did, another look of awe gracing his face as he stared at the contents of the box. you were so giddy, seeing the look of surprised wash over his face, that same feeling of satisfaction you received earlier came over you again and you were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you watched eren.

it was a watch, the face of it a black and white photo of him and his mom when he was young, and you were to thank mikasa for finding the photo for you. the band was a matte black and the metal detailing the accessory a pretty gold that matched the key necklace that hung around his neck almost at all times. you hoped that the watch would become like the necklace— something he wore almost at all times.

he looked up at you, and although he was sitting down he pulled you forth by your wrist. the action caught you by surprise, his free hand holding your waist and his head buried into your stomach, and almost by default did your hand go up to play with the free strands of his hair, smoothing over his head, playing with his half assed bun and carding your fingers through his soft locks.

your heart was melting, you could almost cry— and you never knew that seeing the joy and admiration of you on someone else's face would mean so much to you, you never knew that making someone else happy was something that made you happy, especially when it came to someone like eren. it was the same expression that your friends had when they saw how happy you were when you all came together to complete another task for the event, and now you could feel what they felt, except tenfold.

so you let him press his head against you while he examined the watch, you were fine with staring over the roof of your car into the distance of the night, staring at what would've looked like nothing to you if eren wasn't in your arms.

it was all something, the tall trees whereas the green leaves on them was only visible because of the moonlight, the arrangement of cars spanning down the parking lot ahead, little things you wouldn't have thought twice about. little things that somehow eren made you recognize, eren made you hyper aware of how the little things mattered, in the worst sense at first, having you constantly stress over the little things. but now you were somewhat happy you took your time on these little things, because the little things that might seem like nothing to you, could mean the whole world to someone else.

you realize that eren would have been happy with anything that you wanted to give to him, no matter how little or big not because of what it is, but because of who you are and the thought that went into it.

you almost missed the small blabbers of "thank you" that left his mouth, his lips moving against the fabric of your dress, and your coat brushing the tip of his nose. it's only when he stood up and said one more to your face that you realized he had been talking to you the whole time.

the bag wasn't in his lap no more, and neither was the box, the watch now around his wrist, and it suited him perfectly, it complimented him so nicely, although it was a simple watch (which to be fair, it was the exact opposite of simple to him). the only thing still the same was his arm around your waist, and the soft expression on his features.

it wasn't that hard, it couldn't have been that hard— not now, when you finally realize that eren is eren, and he'll be happy with you no matter what, no matter what you give him, no matte what you say to him.

"eren?"

"yeah?"

"i like you."

if this was a few hours ago, you would've choked up on your words, your heart would be racing and your hands would be a clammy mess. hours ago you would've refused ever confessing to him, it wouldn't have even crossed your mind once.

hours ago, you didn't know eren as well as you thought you did because you were too busy worrying about the what-ifs, worrying about the little things that he would've loved anyways.

his expression didn't change, and yours didn't either because you were at peace, and your shoulders felt lighter just because he now knew.

"______?"

"yeah?"

"i like you too."

that was all that it took.

that was all it took for both of your hands to cup at his face, and pull him closer while you stood on your tippy toes, foreheads touching, then nose, then lips. all it took for you to feel so loved and complete, all by the feeling of his lips against yours, the synchronization of them moving together made you giddy again, made you happy.

your noses bumped but it was okay, your teeth clinked but it was okay, you both giggled into the kiss, not being able to shake the overwhelming feel of it that somehow still kept you feeling at peace.

he pulled you impossibly close, and he kissed you until he couldn't breathe anymore, taking his time sucking on your lips, savoring every taste of your skin and the way your lips felt. the kiss alone was the cherry to his birthday— scratch that, you were the cherry to his birthday.

and when the two of you finally pulled away for air your head fell forward onto his chest almost immediately, his head resting overtop of yours and keeping you safe in his arms, safe against him. "happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday." you were the one to blabber now, and you weren't sure if it was a distraction for the tears that threatened to spill or not.

he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, swaying both of your bodies back and forth gently, swiftly, and kindly. he didn't respond, but he didn't need to respond, his love being thrown back at you just by the way he held you.

you could've stayed in this position forever, you really could've but the sound of armin calling for eren from the top of the steps is what broke the moment for the two of you, and what made matters worse (or better) was hitch standing right behind him, a leer on her face that made you let out a sigh.

"hey! eren!" armin almost doesn't realize that it's you right below eren, but when his gaze darts down to you for a millisecond he has to do a double take that causes him to break out in a smile, turning to hitch for a confirmation which she gives with a nod. "we were looking for you, we have to cut the cake!"

eren looks down at you and reluctantly lets you go, shutting your car door for you and grabbing your cup. "you can go back inside we're coming." he announces, and even then armin and hitch don't move, both leaning against the railing like you and eren earlier, as if something would come next between you and eren— you had to chuckle at this.

when you and eren began walking hand in hand, for the first time you didn't worry about what he'd think of the cake, you didn't worry about if he'd like the color, or the taste, or the shape, or anything for that matter, because you knew eren would appreciate anything you'd throw his way.

"hey,"

he looks down at you, and the calm look on his face almost mirrors yours. "yeah?"

"happy birthday, eren."

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.

[sweetestlamb]

Try A Little Tenderness

Summary: Han Seo gets treated with kindness and affection and he doesn’t know how to process these foreign feelings. Also he gets a first eye contact of the mafia couple. 

Author's note: A few of you said you would like to read this so I popped it out real quick in between real life and all that mess, I did something like this for IOTNBO and really enjoyed that sometimes it’s fun to see a relationship from an outsider’s pov. I also saw a few people say that they ship our puppy with a certain someone so I threw in some crumbs because the visuals would be very pretty and good for my health. It has talks of past abuse (see psychopath brother) but I don’t think it’s any darker than the regular show. Happy reading! 

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for them to realize that he's nowhere near good or smart enough to keep alive such less work so closely to them and listen to their plans. They trust him, he can tell by the way that conversations don't taper off if he comes into the room with another question about how to use the copy machine- there are so many buttons and it's confusing figuring it out by myself.

This first time he sheepishly asks for help after reading articles online and coming no closer to understanding the massive machine, he expects more fanfare; a slap on the cheek, a rap on the forehead or just a simple sigh and "idiot" that he would smile in the face of but the word would stick to his heart for days on end. His eyes were glued to the ground after his inquiry so he missed whatever look they originally gave him but surprisingly enough Ms. Hong stepped forward, he almost flinched as the hand approached his view but instead of pain he just felt warmth on his shoulder.

Guiding him with the hand on his shoulder, she led him back over to the machine and patiently explained all the buttons to him, even smiling gently when he pulled out a little notepad to write down the many directions.

"You really only need these three buttons this is the power button, but this thing is ancient so sometimes it may need a good kick." He jumped marginally at the loud bang of her foot against the side, quickly writing that down as well.

Really old. Needs kick.

"Then you press this button to choose the amount of copies, choose double or single sided and choose with staple and that's it." His eyes darted rapidly trying to keep up with her directions while taking his notes. It sounded simple enough but his brother had taught him that if there was a way to fuck something up, he would find it, naturally. So his nerves skyrocketed when she turned to him with a grin and said, "Are you ready for another test? Make 20 copies of these." She handed him a small stack of papers. 

His heart jerked in his chest and suddenly he was fifteen years old again staring at a test sheet and knowing none of the answers. It was hard to study with the fear of Han Seok barging into his room at any moment to do another sick experiment on him, once he had sliced his finger just to watch it bleed. He'd told his father that he accidentally cut himself while cooking and let the shame wash over him as he got a look that screamed that he was incompetent and pathetic.

"Han Seo? Are you okay? You seem like you're a million miles away." The pretty lawyer's concerned voice brought him back to reality and he could feel the stares of the other men in the room on his skin, Vincenzo being the heaviest. He really didn't want to look stupid on front of the man for some unexplored reason. He swallowed hard before facing the machine, feeling like he was going off to war.

He pressed the big power button, shaken when nothing happened but suddenly remembered his notes and with an almost unnoticeable glance he found his answer, swiftly kicking the beast of a copier he watched it roar to life and almost on autopilot he mimicked the motions that Ms. Hong had just demonstrated and watched in terror as the paper was swallowed and the copies were spit out from the compartment in the bottom.

I did it.

Everything seemed to be in order and the machine hadn't exploded. Yet. 

"Oh."

The triumphant smile that had graced his face slide off like rain on a windowpane.

"I messed up. I'm sorry. Please let me try-"

He was bowing before he could stop himself, shame a familiar friend at this point in his life. There were very little moments that he didn't feel a tsunami of shame crashing over him in a thick heavy sheet.

"You just forget to select stapled. But that's minor, we can just staple them by hand." She responded nonchalantly picking up the copies and bringing them over to the table, "Good job though. Next time you'll probably get it perfect right?"

It was pathetic. He was pathetic. There was no reason for pride to grow in his chest like a mustard seed, he had only completed a basic task. Something that even a monkey could, actually monkeys could do even more complicated tasks.  It was nothing to be proud of. He shouldn't have been smiling as largely as he was, they would think he was insane and kick him out.

But.

She'd said he did a good job. That wasn't a phrase he was used to hearing, he wasn't someone who did anything worth praising. He shuffled away back to the shelves that needed to be organized in alphabetical order, moving a large file to the front of the row unaware that there was an equally huge smile on his face. It stayed there for the rest of the day.

Working there was different from working with his brother. Astronomically. Nobody hit him there, even when he made mistakes. Instead he just got three heads over his shoulder helping him fix said mistake or Mr. Nam pushing his chair out of the way and taking over with only a gentle chide of, "Be careful next time." And it's clear that they all care for and respect each other. It's evident in the way that there's no clear hierarchy at the law firm, when they have meetings they alternate on who makes the coffee for the team, take turns buying meals and they are all allowed to speak and share their ideas without waiting for approval. It's nothing like he's used to and it makes him wonder if this is normal and what he's used to is...not.

It's enough to overwhelm him.

Then something catches his attention in the peripheral of his eye, Ms. Hong impatiently goes to take a sip of her coffee ignoring Vincenzo's firm warning against doing so and she flinches at the heat of the beverage, sticking out her tongue instantly after the first sip, blowing and huffing theatrically- something he's grown used to seeing from her. This isn't what shocks him though, it's Vincenzo's reaction. Immediately he walks over to the water cooler, filling a little paper cup before bringing it back over to her and thrusting the cool liquid into her outstretched hands.

"I told you to be careful." He says voices filled with exasperation as she gulps down the water, shooting him puppy dog eyes.

"I thouf it mould be cool enouf." She replies around her extended tongue and he watches the interaction with wide eyes, that only grow larger when the murderous Mafia member picks up the lawyers mug of steaming liquid and starts to blow on her coffee, his lips puckered into a perfect o. Ms. Hong watches absently as if this is expected behavior and after a few minutes, Vincenzo takes a sip of her coffee deeming it cool enough before handing it back to her. She takes a sip dangerously close to the spot his mouth had just occupied and hums at the temperature, shooting him a brilliant smile. To his utter surprise the usually stoic Mafia member smiles back fondly, before walking off to make a call. Ms. Hong watches him walk away before realizing that he's watching their interaction and a delicate blush blossoms in her cheeks before she stutters walking off to her table.

He glances between the two with his head tilted. Feeling curious.

Once he starts looking it's almost indecent how often the two touch each other, Vincenzo's hand never too far from Ms. Hong's back or arm and she never reacts to the sudden touches, no flinching or tensing up when a foreign hand is suddenly on her person. That's a new concept for him, he doesn't like surprise touches.

Then there's the fact that Mr. Cassano never allows Ms. Hong to hold anything, when she comes bustling through the doors with bags in her hand the smell of pasta permeating the room the older man is already making his way across the room tugging the bags from her hands wordlessly. He places them carefully on the table before smoothly dragging out her chair and guiding her into it with a hand on her waist.

"I brought your favorite. Authentic Italian food." She smirks up at him, opening the containers and he feels his mouth water at the tantalizing aroma that fills the room even more than before.

"It smells amazing! Where did you find authentic Italian food?" He asks inserting himself into their conversation and for a minute, he second guesses himself gearing up for a blow. But it never comes and Ms. Hong waves him closer, pushing a container of thick noodles in his direction.

"Are you hungry? Here have some!" She shoves chopsticks into his hand and watches him eagerly and he can do nothing but follow her orders, stuffing the tomato sauce drenched noodles into his mouth. When he looks up he sees that they are both watched him avidly, awaiting his review and he smiles around his bulging cheeks putting up two thumbs.

"It's delicious! Best Italian food I've ever had!" He stares excitedly and he's unprepared for Vincenzo's sudden glare, it's the first time the man has thrown such a look his way he gulps nervously at the unnerving sight.

"What- did I say something wrong?" He warily asks watching the Italian man angrily stomp off whilst muttering something indecipherable to him but that makes Ms. Hong smile mischievously, grabbing the container and chasing after the fleeing man.

"Stop being a snob! Have some, say ahhhh!" He can't comprehend the sight that he's watching, dumbfounded as the petite lawyer hangs on Mr. Cassano's arm and tries to feed him the Italian food.

"No! I don't want it, stop! Why do you keep bringing that here?" The Italian Mafia boss whines pushing her away but he notes that he never pushes her too hard, his shoves are very soft barely rocking her slight body. When she starts to chase him around the room, Han Seo can only watch in shock the behavior too childish for him to reconcile that these are the same people who have been thwarting all his brother's plans. Not even Mr. Nam entering the office is enough to stop their shenanigans and in the end it's Vincenzo who admits defeat, backed into a wall. Han Seo waits for her to give him the food and for this moment to come to an end. But neither one of them make a move, frozen against the wall staring at each other looking a million miles away.

It's then that it clicks for him.

They are more than just partners. 

When one of the various plaza tenants burst through the doors only then is the tense moment severed, Ms. Hong jumps back flustered thrusting her hand at his face and Mr. Cassano has to open his mouth lest he get smashed in the jaw. He watches amused as a grimace crosses the older man's face as he swallows the food as if it's poison.

Ms. Hong flies across to help the cute pianist that he's seen around a plaza a few times. He stares at her from under his bangs, looking away when she catches his eyes. Coughing loudly he walks away to do something important that doesn't involve losing his wits because of a pretty girl. Maybe he can talk to Mr. Cassano later just to ask about her, there's nothing wrong with being curious about your neighbors after all.

He doesn't know where else to go so he comes to Jipuragi, letting out a sigh of relief when he sees all the lights off. He pulls the key that Mr. Nam gave him from his pocket, still in disbelief that they trusted him enough to give him a key to the establishment. He had blinked away tears when the older man pushed the small metal object into his hands, it felt like a huge responsibility. Almost like he was being accepted into their makeshift family. It was far more than he deserved. 

Sitting down on his chair, he lets the agony wash over him. His cheek is throbbing, sore and swollen from the open handed slaps against the skin. Their stocks had dropped again from all the accusations and bad publicity, and his brother had once again taken it out on him berating him like a dog before kicking me out. It's nothing new, nothing he's never experienced before but it feels worst. Now that he's been around people who don't treat him like he's dirt, it hurts even more to go back to the old ways. He's so lost in thought he doesn't notice the door opening or the person creeping inside.

"What are you doing here?"

He jumps at the unexpected voice, twisting in his seat panicked. His heart rate settles once he sees the cool eyes of the man he's grown to respect. Vincenzo Cassano. He slumps in his seat, no excuses coming to mind and then it's too late and the other man is crossing the room and taking a seat across from him.

Those cold eyes narrow as they search his face, "What happened to your face?"

Images of his brother looming over him and slapping him on the ground flood his mind, along with his screams of pain as he pleads for him to stop. Then visions of a much smaller version of himself pleading similarly as his brother pulled his hair and laughed at his cries. He's crying before he ever realizes that the tear has condensed. 

Vincenzo tenses across the table, looking lost and uncomfortable.

It only makes him cry harder. It's so much better than getting hit.

Without a word the Mafia boss stands up pushing his chair away, stomping powerfully to the door. He watches alarmed before finding his voice and calling out, "Where are you going?"

The man looks at him darkly answering, "To kill your brother."

He gapes at the statement said so matter of fact and a bubble of laughter rises to the surface, making him chuckle through his tears. He rears back further at the other man's blatant confusion following his outburst, feeling freer than he's ever felt because this is the first time someone has tried to defend him.

It feels nice. Better than nice, unbelievable.

His heart thumps as he looks at the other man that he has every reason to be scared of but instead he feels safer than ever in his presence, it almost feels like what a brother should. A real brother not the one that he has who would kill him tomorrow without batting an eyelash.

"He's not done suffering yet. But thank you." Vincenzo shifts awkwardly at his show of gratitude never accepting of thanks something he has noticed while observing the enigmatic man, he vaguely wonders what this man has been through to make the complicated person he sees in front of him. Maybe one day he'll ask.

"Well if you're going to stay here, there's a bed up there."

Impulsively he replies, "Have you ever used it before? Is it really okay for me to use?"

He's met with a puzzled look, which he returns with a calculating one and then he spares a quick glance over to Ms. Hong's table and the gears click and Vincenzo is tomato faced and yelling, "Watch your mouth you brat! Do you want a beating?"

It shouldn't be funny with his face still throbbing from a beating just hours earlier, but he laughs so much his stomach hurts and that pain dulls the ache in his face.

"Oh my goodness what happened to your face?" He's barely able to get out an answer before Ms. Hong is jogging across the room, ever so gently catching his face in her small warm hands. Immediately he's reminded of his mother and he has to look away before he embarrasses himself.

He mumbles a lie about tripping but she's already sending a ferocious knowing look over to her partner and he watches their silent conversation with large eyes, until her voice breaks the pregnant pause.

"I can't wait until we kill that punk. How dare he put a hand on you? I'll go get some medicine, you-" she points to Vincenzo, "get him some ice before it starts to swell." The man automatically follows her instructions, looking like a dutiful husband.

And that's how Mr. Nam finds them, Vincenzo pressing ice wrapped in towels against his cheek as Ms. Hong squeezes creamy ointment onto her finger and smears it across his cheek. He blames his glossy eyes on the pain in his cheek and not the one in his chest.

It's his first time walking around the plaza and he tries to ignore the suspicious eyes that trail him, he knows that they know him as their enemy's brother and underling so he doesn't blame them for not trusting him, he would do the same. The clang of piano keys catches his attention and leads him to the source of the noise like a siren luring lost men, he watches transfixed through the glass as delicate fingers fly across the keys in a frenzy. It’s mesmerizing. 

He was forced to get piano lessons when he was younger, he was surprisingly good at it even better than Han Seok thus his brother became enraged and smashed his fingers putting a permanent end to his lessons.

The music lulls him into a sense of comfort so much so he doesn't realize when it ends and the small pianist notices that she has an audience.

When he finally looks up and catches her eye, he freaks out expecting her to look at him like all the others have today so he's unprepared for the door to slide open and for her to beckon him in with a crooked finger. He walks in almost as if in a trance, she's so pretty it's almost unnatural a supernatural glow surrounding her in her white flowing dress.

"How does it feel working at Jipuragi?" She asks suddenly catching him off guard, he sputters before taking a deep breath and looking away before replying, "I feel useful. It's....new."

That's all he can disclose and honestly it's more than he intended on saying but a knowing smile stretches across her pale face.

"Vincenzo, he's someone special who can make others feel special too." He smarts at the clear adoration in her voice, of course. She liked Vincenzo too. Every woman at this plaza probably did, the Italian was much more appealing than he would ever be- naturally charismatic and handsome, every woman's dream.

He smiles defeated stepping further into the space, running his fingers longingly across the piano keys. Something else that just wasn't meant for him.

"You like him too. It makes sense, he's really cool." He whispers, self deprecation swaddling him like a blanket. 

It's obvious who else he's referring to only Vincenzo and Ms. Hong seem to be in denial at this point everyone else assuming that they're already dating.

She doesn't deny his accusation. It's his own fault for having hope but that knowledge does nothing to tamper the hurt that rumbles in his chest. 

She hums before walking closer to him, fingers trailing across the black and white keys.

"I did. But they're good together."

He stills in shock, lightly pressing down on the key beneath his finger the sound vibrating through his skin. Then she presses another key that rings harmoniously with his and he can't not look over at her and he jolts breath stuck in his throat when he finds her already staring at him with a serene smile, "There are a lot of interesting people here though, someone else has caught my eye."

He plays the final note to fulfil the chord they started and their eyes never leave the other, music floating on the air between them.

Full. He’s never known what that felt like before but now he feels full of everything and he can't go back, can't ever go back to the way things once were.

There’s no looking back, only forward. 

[c0rpseductor]

at this point im just so tired of wide-eyed idealism and people acting like every major loss or setback like this is because none of us tried hard enough or organized hard enough or cared enough or threw enough molotovs. the odds are so stacked against people just trying to survive right now it’s insane and while i completely believe that’s no excuse to roll over and take it i need people to understand that much of what happens really is out of our control and would have happened even if we’d done everything “right.” there is only so much any of us can do in the face of the state and there are times where we’re powerless.

like i don’t want to scaremonger or tell people not to hold out hope. you still should do whatever you can. even the smallest mitigation of harm is important. but when something awful happens that is not the time to turn on your allies and say “this is your fault because you didn’t try hard enough” when the odds are inherently stacked toward the fucking government, because they make the rules, they have the social power, they have the financial power, they have the legal power, they have the police and the military.

i think some people need to get in touch with reality. we need to do everything we can, but sometimes we are going to lose no matter how much we kick and scream, because the people living in this country don’t actually hold the power. and it does NOT make anyone want to try harder when they give their all to an issue and are told the reason the government ignored them is because they simply didn’t protest hard enough. come on. even if some of these battles are losing battles they need fought, but i’m sick of people who are utterly detached from material reality insisting that every new fascist measure from the government is because those of us already most impacted don’t care enough and let it happen.

it’s just infuriating how much is expected of people with no resources or time and who might have to choose between edgy tumblr-brand Direct Action and survival. stop it. make those decisions for yourself, but don’t bitch and moan that other people chose to continue to live over putting their lives at risk. and this is the risk that must be weighed for every marginalized person and everyone living in poverty. i am sick of people at risk being told to put themselves on the front lines of dangerous protests as fodder and belng told they deserve what they get if they don’t, as if so many of you really think it’s some kind of game, as if being so far divorced from the issues allows you some kind of clarity where the Real Answer is that starving people scrambling to make ends meet are not idealistic enough, that they don’t try hard enough. those of you who live in those conditions and still blame other people in your boat REALLY don’t have an excuse.

like, i don’t really know what to say or how many people are going to interpret this in bad faith, it’s just so unbelievably frustrating that it feels like so many people on The Left have this fucking childish “live and die by the sword” mentality like the lives of real people are some kind of fucking fairy tale guaranteed a happy ending if everybody just listens to them, specifically, and if enough minority groups risk being murdered at protests.