#i once called a uber for my friend when we met up last time i went there and her trip was like 50brl

[bnnywngs]

hinata: i'm home! ugh it takes so long to go anywhere in this city

kenma, sipping tea: welcome back. isn't it normal?

hinata: no??? why would it be normal? i used to go from home to school faster than this and i lived on the other side of the mountain

hinata: and by BIKE!

kenma, tokyo born: i wouldn't know

hinata, country bumpkin:

hinata: yeah, nevermind, i forgot you're a city boy

[catch1ngmoths]

🫧𓇼*ੈTIME AFTER TIME✩‧₊˚🎐

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “If your lost, you can look, and you will find me..time after time. If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting…time after time” -Cyndi Lauper 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: after a one night stand with Joost you both can’t seem to get each other out of y’all’s heads. You were always on his mind since then and you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond boy with the cute accent… until your paths cross once more. This time Joost won’t walk away

Note: (all credit for the edit above goes to MCRBATS on TikTok!!) this is a part two for “only stay with you one more night” ITS FINALLY OUT GUYSSS!! I beg for more requests because yall give me the most scrumptious ideas for fics ever!! Also, this is kinda bad so please don’t jump me!!!

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, Talk of past sexual relations, mostly fluff!

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It had been months, you hadn’t seen Joost since that night that left you both achey in a good and bad way. You’d pondered on your thoughts and feelings towards the blondie and you mentally scolded yourself for thinking he’d come back for you. It obviously meant nothing to him, he probably sleeps with people left and right. You were no different to all the others in his mind.

But you were. Joost couldn’t get your name out his mind. Couldn’t get your pretty face and voice out of his mind. He kept thinking about the way you said moaned his name and how soft your hands were against his rough ones. He wanted to go back in time and make himself bite the curb for leaving your apartment that early morning.

You were so so so much different. Sure, this one night stand wasn’t his first rodeo but the way he looked at you was. The way he felt towards you was, he didn’t know why. He really didn’t. He’d only fully been around you for around 5 hours but those moments gave him a feeling he’d never felt before. He felt so much love, care, and warmth towards your personal being and just wanted to protect you from everything.

He’d ruined it though, we walked through and out your front door that morning. He felt cold as soon as he did but there was no going back now. He had in his signature white earbuds in while he looked out the window of the Uber that was taking him home, his mind still on you. And just like that, that was the last time he’d seen your beautiful face and your addicting scent.

The sound of his friend, apson calling his name pulled him out of his trance. He was setting up for his concert in a few hours, when he was preforming it was the only time he could get you off his mind…well somewhat at least. He went over and helped out apson and the rest of his crew and friends. Helping them set everything up and getting everything done for tonight.

You on the other hand were at your friend, Alexis’s house just hanging out when she interrupted you while you were talking. Her eyes were wide like she’d just remembered something and her movements were one of excitement, taking you aback. “Oh my god!! Sorry to interrupt you but I totally forgot about something, so Mia, Rayo, and Lacey are coming over later and we’re all going to a musicians concert Mia likes!!”

You stare at her with a smile and sarcasm laced in your voice, “now why the hell would you wanna interrupt my story to tell me about that?” You say with a chuckle, “beaacauseee…I want you to come with! It’ll be fun and I know the others would love to have you there too!” You furrow your eyebrows, this reminded you of that night where they all begged you to come out to that club with them where you met that boy you haven’t been able to get your mind off of.

You take a deep sigh, “Lex you know how I feel about things like that.” You reply but Alexis isn’t ready to back down just yet, “no I know but this concert will be different, it’s not as big as mainstream concerts and Mia said it’ll be fun!!” Alexis says looking at you with those puppy eyes and pouting in a sarcastic way.

You groan and just like you did that night months ago you agree. Around an hour later the rest of your friends show up a to get ready. You hang with Rayo fixing your makeup before looking over to him, “who are we even seeing anyways?” You ask him curiously, “man I don’t remember, I just remember Mia putting on his music and showing me a picture of him. Good looking guy and his music isn’t bad whatsoever…soo” Rayo replies with a smile

‘Whatever..’ you think, ‘at least this will be something to get me out the house and doing something.’ You sigh as your friends squeal and run to the car, excited to go. You laugh at their childishness and run after them. It takes around 20 minutes to arrive and the whole time your driving you feel this sensation in your chest, you can’t stop thinking about Joost…he was always on your mind don’t get me wrong but something about this was just different.

Joost was backstage, talking with his friends and trying to calm his excitement for the concert. But something about this felt oddly familiar, he’d never felt this before any concert. His mind now fully immersed and focused on you, he shakes his head as apson calls him over. Trying to shake the thought of you out his mind, as he gets up from where he was sat to walk to apson.

“Het concert begint zo, zijn jullie er klaar voor?” (The concerts gonna start soon, are you ready?) Apson says to Joost, clapping his hand on his shoulder with a smile. Joost takes a breath and smiles at apson, “Ja, ben je er klaar voor? Heb je nog ergens hulp bij nodig?” (Yeah, are you ready? Do you need help with anything else?) Joost replies, nudging apson with his shoulder, this makes apson clasp his hands together. “Ah, Ja, dat ben ik helemaal vergeten. Kom met me mee” (ah, yes, I completely forgot. Come with me..) apson says as the two men walk to set one last thing up.

You and your friends finally arrived to the concert. You all scooted to the front, people being nice enough to let y’all shuffle through. You and your friends talked before music played out making everyone around you, plus your friends scream with excitement. A guy runs out on stage, dressed in a while collared shirt with a black tie and black pants.

He has…short, messy, blond hair.. the same hair Joost had. No way, that wouldn’t be him- that was what you thought before he turned to face the crowd. Those features. Holy shit. It was him. He spoke into the microphone and you immediately knew from the sound of that pretty accent. It was Joost, the boy you couldn’t get out of your head.

Your mind races and you can’t decide if you should be excited or mortified that he’s standing right in front of you. On one hand, this is the boy you’ve wanted to be reunited with for months. On the other hand, it’s embarrassing to face him now. You secretly hope he’ll see you and you’re also hoping he won’t.

He sings his song, “offline” as he looks at the crowd before he sees it. He thinks he’s imagining things, you’ve been a constant in his head for months but there’s no way you’re here right now. No way you’re looking up at him with the same shocked expression that his face definitely has. His voice slightly shakes but he keeps on singing. He’s imagining shit, god he needs to get it together

But it wasn’t his imagination. You were there, for the rest of the concert you and Joost made continuous eye contact. And after the concert was done and Joost was backstage he was his wracking his brain for any way he could catch you. He couldn’t let you leave again, he just got given a second chance and he wasn’t about to give it up.

You were thinking the same things, you were alone in your mind the whole concert. You were thinking and planing about what to do after this, once the concert was done and everyone was leaving. You panicked, “u-um you guys can leave without me, I can get an Uber back home! I need to do something..! I’ll text you when I get home safe!” You say

You knew they wouldn’t let you so you run away before they can protest against your words. You look around, after your far enough away. You second guess yourself once your by yourself. Your heart is racing but your thoughts won. What if he didn’t wanna see you? What is he forgot about you and everything about that night.? You shake your head and realize what you’re doing, your friends probably haven’t gotten far.

Before you can run back to your friends you hear heavy footsteps, you turn around frantically. And you finally see Joost turning the corner to the hallway to where you were. He turns his head when you both lock eyes, both of you freezing. You stared at each other, breathing heavily and hearts racing.

“J-Joost..?” You stutter out, your voice weak and body stiff. He immediately breaks out of his trace at the sound of that voice that he’d missed so much. He runs towards you and embraces you, it was strange…it really was. This amount of affection for someone you hadn’t seen a few months and only spend one night together.

But it felt like you both were intertwined, sewn together in some way (Adrianne Lenker mentioned?!) He smiles, picking you up and spinning you around. “Holy shit it’s really you, fuck I’m so sorry. I regretted leaving as soon as I closed your door. I’m sorry if I made you feel used or unimportant, your not and i-“ he’s put off my a soft kiss being pressed to his lips

You grab his face as his hands pull your waist to be flush against his hips. Both of you are out of breath, pressing messy and rough kisses to each others lips. You moan softly on his lips and joost took his opportunity to slip his tounge into your mouth. Nothing but love shown in the kisses as he presses you up against the wall behind you, towering over you as you finally pull away.

“I’m not letting you go again, I hope you’re aware of that..” he says with his signature smile and you giggle before responding, “I wouldn’t have it any other way..” you say before he lowers his head, catching your lips in his once more

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “ Wanna listen to the sound of you blinking, wanna listen to your hands soothe. Listen to your heart beating, listen to the way you move” - Adrianne lenker 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

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TAGLIST: @timewillpasssoon @poppymelonz @pickle-juice-and-vodka @imsiriuslyreal

[w2soneshots]

Flirt -W2S

words: 1.0k+

warnings: alcohol consumption.

summary: your childhood friends with Faith and when she meets Ethan you’re invited to a party with his friends.

notes: this was requested on wattpad!! Enjoy🎀🫶🏼

I've known Faith since high school. We stayed friends and have actually became closer as we've grown up. She met Ethan a few months ago and I have noticed how happy she is, when she talks about him she starts blushing and goes all giddy, I'm so incredibly happy for her. Naturally I met him and he seems super nice, then he invited me and Faith to a party he's hosting at his apartment, and we obviously said yes. I met all of his friends last week along with their girlfriends: Talia and Freya, who were really sweet and welcomed us into the group. I find the entire group hilarious. The banter that night was top notch.

Tonight both me and Faith are invited to another party but this time it's being hosted at JJ and Simon's apartment. For a bit of fun they decided to do a "girls wear white, men wear black" sorta thing so I went shopping with Talia (who I've become good friends with) to buy a dress. When we both found something to wear, paid and headed home to begin the long process of getting ready. I styled my hair, put on some makeup then got into my dress. Just before I left my apartment I sprayed myself with my favourite perfume and grabbed my lip liner, lipgloss and phone.

I got an uber to the boys apartment building. They gave me the code to get through reception then I got into the lift. Once I was outside the front door I knocked. It was opened by Talia a few minutes later. Her eyes lit up "y/n! I'm so glad you're here," she said as she pulled me in "none of the girls are here yet and I'm seriously getting bored of the conversation being about football." I laughed as she brought me through the hallway and into the living room. I smiled and waved lightly "hey." I said. "Hey! y/n, wanna drink?" JJ asked. I nodded and he took me into the kitchen.

After I got my drink I sat down on the couch between Talia and Harry. At the last party I got along great with everyone but me and Harry were a little awkward, Ethan had already pre warned me that Harry wasn't great with new people and so I tried to be as talkative as possible when I spoke to him so he didn't feel like he had to do too much of the talking, and it seemed to work pretty well. In the next half an hour everyone else arrived, including Ethan and Faith so I immediately became more comfortable.

As the night went on everyone progressively became more and more drunk. I stood in the kitchen pouring myself, another drink when Harry came in. "Hey, what ya making?" he asked. I turned around "vodka Redbull, want one?" he stepped towards me "Nah, I'm alright but thanks though." he said. I smiled lightly and continued to make my drink while he made himself something. "So, how did you meet Faith?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence. I finished pouring my drink, took a sip and looked up to him. "Met her during high school, we've been friends ever since." I replied. Just as I finished my sentence, Freya walked in and told us we were going to play Uno.

Me and Harry headed into the living room and sat down on one of the sofas. Once we played a few rounds we got bored and began chatting amongst ourselves. I spent the rest of the night talking to Harry and getting to know him properly until I was too drunk to hold a conversation so decided to call it a night and go home.

The next morning... I woke up with what felt like one of the worst hangovers of my life. After practically rotting in bed all day, I managed to get myself up and order some lunch. When it arrived, I sat down to eat it and got a call from Faith: "hey! How are you feeling?" She asked. "not great, you?" I replied. "not the worst," she sighed contently "So... last night, you and Harry seem to be getting along." she said. I raised a brow, even though she couldn't see me "what do you mean by that?" She giggled "you just looked really... flirty." She said. I gasped "flirty?" "Come on y/n, you obviously like him!" She said with a chuckle. I sighed, then laughed "maybe I do."

Harry's pov:

I woke up to a text from Ethan: "so you and y/n yea?" I furrowed my brows "what?" I replied. A few minutes later he text back "come on bog it's obvious you like her😉" my face dropped slightly "is it really that obvious?" I replied quickly. "Haha yes yes it is" I signed "shit" I said quietly to myself.

y/n’s pov:

Today I'm going for dinner with Faith. She asked me randomly a few days after the party if I was free anytime this week, since Ethan was busy. So I said tonight and she picked a restaurant. I got ready into a casual outfit, pulled my hair into a half up half down style and did my makeup. Once I was finished I texted Faith, telling her I was just about to leave. She replied that she was also leaving so I made my way outside.

I got an Uber to the restaurant and was there within 15 minutes. I text Faith that I’d arrived but I didn’t get a reply. I brushed it off and headed inside. I looked around to check she wasn’t already here and my eyes caught someone else’s. I walked towards him “Harry? What are you doing here?” I asked. He stood from the small table he was sat at. “I’m meeting Ethan.” He said casually. My eyes widened slightly then I shook my head “Faith.” I said now realising what was going on. “What?” He said, confused. “I told Faith I- um liked you and I guess she was trying to set us up.” I said awkwardly. “I told Ethan I liked you.” He laughed slightly. “You do?” I said with a slight tilt of my head. He nodded. I smiled “well we better make the most of this then.” I said.

We spent the entire date laughing and getting wasted. We forgave Ethan and Faith and actually thanked them for forcing us to admit our feelings.

[coleskingdom]

Neglected

Adam Cole x F Reader

NSFW Minors DNI

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

After all of Wardlow’s failures in helping undisputed keep their gold and get Adam his. He assigned him as my body guard when I went out with my friends. Tonight it just so happened that I ended up in the same place as Jay and Bullet Club Gold. I saw them before they saw me, and I went to find Wardlow who at this point was drunk with three women wrapped around him.

I texted Adam

Me:

I’ll be home soon I’m coming in an Uber.

Cole:

I’m already here Beautiful. Come out the side door, I’m waiting by the car.

I followed his instructions, there he was standing in the rain. He looked like he belonged in a movie as the rain fell but his eyes never left me and his smile melted me. He kissed me his lips cold and wet from the rain but his mouth was warm. “How did you know and how long have you been here?” Asking as he opened the door to the passenger side. “Get in and I’ll tell you.” I got in the car completely soaked from the downpour. Adam got in and drove us away. “ I got a phone call, that said that BCG was on their way to the club.. I called Wardlow and he didn’t answer so I came and waited till you texted.” glancing over at me. “ I should have never sent him with you. I sent a bottle over to Jay and asked him to fuck with Wardlow a little bit. So that he thinks you’ve been lost, and when he calls me I’ll handle him once and for all. “ his hand resting on my leg as he drove.

“ I’m absolutely soaked, I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet in my life” as I reached to adjust the temperature in the car. “Well….” Adam’s voice mischievous I clasped my hands over my mouth. “ I walked..” the phone started ringing in the car . Adam held up his finger and I saw it was Wardlow calling .

“Yes” Adam’s tone irritated and hard.

“Boss, I lost her, well I should say she lost me. She’s a sneaky one, one minute she’s dancing with her friends and then she’s gone.” his slurred voice anxious.

“Wardlow what are you trying to say she’s done?” his hand rubbing my leg but his tone ice cold.

“ I searched the whole club, her tab was paid by Jay. I found Jay and he said he hadn’t seen her, which is a lie boss , he paid her tab. He then said get this he said he saw her look around before sneaking out the side door of the club. They seem to think she left with Adam. Boss I think your girl has a side piece.”

“Wardlow , just when I think you can’t be any more of a disappointment, you prove me wrong. You’ve got to be the dumbest son of a bitch I’ve ever met. You actually went to Jay for help and expected the truth. Wardlow what is my name.”

“Adam” Wardlow’s voice irritated.

“You’re a maniacal son of a bitch , you know that. Wardlow I’m with Adam. Playing with my relationship when you couldn’t even think for a second I was with Adam Cole not Page you dumb fuck…..” Adam hung up as I yelled into speaker.

Adam started laughing “ Calm Down baby. I’m more concerned about you saying you’ve never been this soaked or wet before. Clearly my perfectly trained tongue hasn’t been paying enough attention to you.” I choked on his words, I blushed as my mind wandered.

“That’s not what I meant.” As he pulled into the driveway. “ I know these last few months have been difficult and I want to take care of you. I haven’t appreciated everything you are and that you’ve done. I’ve neglected you.” his voice warm. “So we are gonna get out of the car, out of these wet clothes, you’re going to warm up in the shower, and then I’ll join you.” his smile reaching his eyes for the first time in months.

I followed him in to the house, his hand holding mine. Inside I went to the bedroom and he went straight to the bathroom, I heard the shower. I stripped the wet clothes off and left them in a laundry basket, as he came out of the bathroom. His eyes appraising me and his smile turned into a smirk. “Don’t be too long” he kissed me on the nose. The warmth of the water felt so good but my mind turned to Adam. I felt a cool rush of air as he stepped in the shower behind me “I couldn’t wait any longer” his lips on my neck as his hands rubbed my lower back, I moaned as his hands rubbed out a knot. My body already putty in his hands. I turned around dragging him under the water with me and kissed him. The kiss that started off soft became needy and desperate. Adam takes control of the kiss, deepening it, dominating me. “Baby, I’m gonna need us to get out of this shower.” his hand fumbling for the handle . He reaches out the door to grab two towels, he wraps me in the towel as he drapes his low on his hips.

He walks me back towards the bed he moves forward catching my lips in a heated, wet, ravenous kiss. His mouth ate at mine, his tongue stroking deep and fast. I was just as greedy for him, my hand sliding into his hair, holding him by the roots while I frantically tasted him. He cupped my breast in his hand, plumping it, his thumb and forefinger surrounding my aching nipple and tugging rhythmically.

I moaned, turned on and needy. It was unnerving how he could strip away my skin to get into the very heart of me, how his complete command of my body made me willing to do or say anything for the pleasure he could give.

He took his time laying me down as his lips moved down my body. His hands squeezing my heavy breasts, the tips swollen and tender from the long minutes he'd spent drawing on them with slow, measured pulls of his mouth. His silky hair brushed over my skin of my stomach before his hands pinned my hips to the bed.

His head lowered, his tongue tracing the swollen folds. He circled my clit, then rimmed the trembling opening below. My legs spread wide, giving him limitless access. He devoured me, so hungry and greedy. I couldn't breathe for the pleasure. The frenzied licking, sucking and blowing. His tongue plunged inside working me over. He cupped my butt and lifted me, angling me into his working mouth. His tongue fucked me swiftly, the shallow plunges into my trembling sex driving me hard toward orgasm. His growl vibrated against my clit, his pleasure feeding my own.I clutched at his hair, moaning, digging my heels into the mattress to rock against his lips.

"Don't stop," I sobbed, so close, my entire body tingling. “You’re doing so well for me, but don’t come for me yet. I’m going to countdown to one and then give me everything.” his blue eyes darkened with lust. “ Adam I can’t it’s to much it feels to good”my voice barely recognizable . “You’re my good girl aren’t you “ his voice thick and commanding, I’ve got you don’t think just feel.” I nodded my head.

The sight of his dark head between my thighs, the rapid-fire flickering of his tongue, the beauty of his biceps hardened from supporting my weight...unbearably erotic.

He was gorgeous. Everything I'd ever wanted. And the fierce need that etched his face warned that his demands would take me to the edge before he was through with me. “Five” I felt my body tensing, from my toes up my body “Adam, please” he slows his movements edging off just a little bit. “Four” the pressure in my belly, builds focusing on my breathing. His velvety strokes over my clit had me gasping, the need for an orgasm so fierce I was drenched, my legs vibrating from the strain. “Three” his fingers moving faster as he blew lightly on my clit. "Two,Those noises you make," he gasped. “God...they make me so hard." His tongue back on my clit as my body clenches around his fingers as they make the come hither motion against that spot “ One” I came against his mouth my body watching off the bed. He eased off working me through the most intense orgasm of my life. “That’s my good girl, so perfect, so mine.” kissing the inside of my thigh.

He took my mouth, kissing me deeply, his tongue rubbing along mine. He reached between us with one hand, fisting himself and stroking the wide crest through my slickness. I gasped and his eyes darkened, his cheeks flushing as he notched into the grasping opening to my sex.

"Adam," I growled in warning needing him inside me.

He thrust hard, sinking deep in one thrust, as the pleasure pulsed through me, my core tightening on the powerfully thick cock inside me.

"Fuck, yeah," he groaned, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets and pumping that long, rigid column of flesh into my quaking body. The climax began to bloom again, spurred by the rhythmic blows of his pelvis into my clit...the feel of his erection plunging relentlessly.

I writhed, helpless, lost to him.

"That's it, baby." Adam’s lips were at my ear, his breath hot and quick. My nails were grasping at his back, feeling the muscles flex as his body worked to service mine. His buttocks tensed and released beneath my calves, his thighs bunching and powering the drives of his hips. His teeth sank into my earlobe and he groaned. He drove the point home with every plunge, fucking me so thoroughly I couldn't think beyond the need to come again. "Stop thinking and feel, baby," he murmured, nibbling on the corner of my mouth. "Let me make you feel good. That's all I want. To make you feel good." I felt the pressure build, bringing him with me milking him feeling him twitch inside me, he circled his hips one more time, I shattered around him. He thrust more times then released deep inside me.

He brushes the tendrils of my hair from face, as he places soft kisses against my face. My body so thoroughly sated, as his weight pushed me further into the mattress. He rolled off of me, and pulled me into his chest his fingers playing lazily in my hair. “ I’ve been cleared, and I’m going to handle Wardlow once and for all and just so you know I never would’ve believed him. I know what we have.” his arms moving protectively around me as I fall into a deep sleep.

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #17; happy trails.  

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 3.2k

note: a fully written chapter for my baddies. 🖤

masterlist ▸ 016 the part we play. ▸ 018 damage control.

Keys are jingling in her face as Joshua stands inches above her head. Smiling down at her still trying to buckle the torture device women call heels. 

"Are we ready yet, princess?" 

Y/n didn't respond with words but a big sigh meaning no. Packing her purse frantically while she runs around the apartment in search of lipstick to match the red of her dress. 

“Y/n, you’ll be fine. I would say trust me but I feel like we're beyond that.”

Running back and forth between rooms she still didn’t know what to say to Joshua, she  decided to let the tensions between the two of them go away for the night as they tackle the bigger fish. 

“Josh. I know. Minghao texted me that he’s going to pretend to be on Mimi’s side. He said we have to be careful. I’m just not sure why.” 

“We’re like seven against one. It will be fine.” 

“Will it? Who knows what she’s capable of, she's very capable of taking all of you down to get to me. She proves it all the time. Maybe I just shouldn’t go. This is stupid even entertaining her.” 

“Do you still care about me and Minnie? Even if you don't, you do care about Minghao. I know for a fact if you don’t show up she will blackmail us forever. I also have a feeling she’ll go for Seokmin somehow, she knows he’s weak. If she can’t take you down, she will definitely take him down.” 

“Then let’s end this once and for all, please.” 

Locking her front door, feeling fire in her gut to take down the girl who had done everything in her power to hurt y/n, she couldn’t help but feel like there was something brewing that she wouldn’t be able to come back from. 

With the air around her full of pressure, she sat in silence in the back of the uber next to a friend who used to be her entire world and now was barely a part of it. 

Something about the ride to Mingyu’s bar felt like it was going to be the last time she saw herself like this, full of anxiety about the days going forward, worried that the other shoe will drop. 

When the two of them finally arrived they were met with an obnoxious banner outside the front door, that the bar was closed for an ‘exclusive’ event. 

Seokmin was standing off to the right, clutching his phone in his hand, looking obviously nervous waiting for y/n to arrive. 

She quickly jumped out of the car with a thank you and ran into his arms, holding onto him for dear life before you went inside. 

“You look beautiful, y/n. Perfect revenge dress.” 

“Thank you for being here to help me.” 

“Where else would I be? Hi, Josh.” 

“Hey, Seok. Where are.. You know.” 

“Out back, they parked Won’s car in the staff lot and are waiting back there.” 

“Okay. Cool. Let them know we’ll give them a signal to come in.” 

Walking through the front door, still sticking Seokmin on her arm. Feeling his physical touch to put y/n at ease following behind Joshua. 

There was a table set up at the front, small bags designed for everyone's phones at coat check, the security guard asked to confiscate everything on them including  their bags. 

Getting a deep wondering look in her eyes, Joshua was asking for permission if it's okay, though she was apprehensive to hand over the items that could be useful for her escape if needed she knew but she also knew she had to do it. 

Seokmin told the guard he just had to send a final message, assuming it was to the nerd back in the parking lot, you just sent him a small smile. 

After hanging over the personal items, the three piece crew, much smaller than normal, were handed numbered masks, assumingly part of Mimi’s plan to know who is who. 

“Guys, please stay close. Okay?” 

“We’re not going to leave you, y/n. We promise. 

“Good.” 

Placing their masks over their eyes, Seokmin in something that looked like a green dragon, Joshua a white jester, and y/n a black sparkly mask with two small horns placed over her eyebrows. 

“I see she still has a sense of humor.” 

“I’m not sure if I think this is very funny, y/n.” 

“Humor keeps me living, Shua.” 

“Clever.” 

Walking through the black velvet curtain, there were swarms of people everywhere, some holding trays with champagne and other clear liquids, a parade of dancers on tables, and some party goers looking at the three of them, trying to suss out who they were. 

“How the fuck are we going to find her in here?” 

Y/n leaned into Seokmin’s ear and whispered the things Minghao had told her before she gave up her phone. 

Minghao was supposedly the only male guest in some type of red mask and knowing Mimi it had something to do with the devil. 

“Guys, I’m going to go grab us some drinks, don’t take anything from anyone if they offer you something. She may have spiked a drink since I’m sure she knows you’ve arrived.” 

Joshua was right, y/n hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Mimi doing something dirty to take her out and make her embarrass herself. 

Y/n pulled Seokmin along to the bathroom that was sitting next to the bar, locking them both inside for a moment to talk before their night. 

“Look. Let’s not drink anything, okay? And we can’t eat either. Joshua reminded me of something from that video of me that Mimi had put out at Minghao’s event. She said she could get us some stuff to have a fun night and to loosen me up more so I could go over to Joshuas and lose my virginity.” 

“She’s so sick. Y/n I'm so sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I just don’t want anything to happen to you, because if i-” 

With a small scream from Seokmin and y/n from a small knock on the door, she just yelled out they’d only be a minute, but the knocking persisted. 

“Y/n? It’s Minnie. Let me in.” 

“Uhh, Seokmin is having a bit of a bathroom emergency. Just one second.” 

“Guys. I know you’re lying, just let me in. I know you don’t want to see me. But, please.” 

Unlocking the door and letting Minnie slide through the crack, you noticed her mask as something to be aware of. It was some sort of bunny with pink crusted jewels all around it. 

“What do you want, Minnie?” 

“Seokmin, just let me talk okay?” 

“Fine.” 

“I know you guys don’t want to see me, I’m sure Joshua explained a little bit of what was going on considering you came with him here willingly. Just know I didn’t do it to hurt you, I did it to save myself. I was being selfish. Mimi knew stuff that I have never told anyone, not even the two of you, she was threatening telling my parents and I couldn’t come back from that, they’d nev-” 

“Minnie? We don’t care right now, why did you want to come in here?” 

“Because, I have an idea.” 

“Which is?” 

“Let me trade places with you tonight. Give me your dress and mask. That way whatever she tries to do to you, it’ll be me instead.” 

“But, our hair is different, they took my bag so I don’t have the matching lipstick for you to wear.” 

“Mingyu is doing work in his office, you can go hide in there with him. I have an overnight bag with some stuff in it that you can put on. I think it’ll be better if we're both not out there.” 

“What about Seokmin? And wouldn’t she be suspicious if you’re not out there?” 

“No. When I came to set up, I told her I wasn’t feeling well and that I wanted to go home early. She doesn’t even know he and I are still here.” 

“How do I know this isn’t part of her plan?” 

“Because I didn’t tell her about your friends waiting for you outside and about you and Minghao being friends still? Other than that you just will have to find it in your gut to believe me even if I betrayed you.” 

“Okay.” 

“Y/n are yo-” 

“Seokmin, I’m sure.” 

“Aright. We’ve been in here too long hurry up and change, Joshua is probably confused.” 

“Follow me to the office, we'll swap there.” 

Minnie led y/n and Seokmin down to the end of the hall holding her eagle eye on the room full of party go-ers looking for Mimi before making a clear getaway into the room Mingyu was held up in. 

Unlocking the key to his office door. Minnie swooped her former best friend into the room where Mingyu was sitting at his desk, airpods in his ears, sipping on a beer. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, Gyu.” 

“Long time no see, y/n. Seokmin.” 

“We miss you, big dog.” 

“I know, Seoky.” 

“Mingyu, y/n is going to stay in here with you while me and Seokmin go around the party. Okay? Keep her safe.” 

“What about Seokmin?” 

“Why does everyone keep asking about me?” 

“Because, you’re the glue.” 

“Aw, Mingyu.” 

“Guys. Turn around so we can change.” 

“Why it’s not li-”

“Mingyu.” 

Y/n giggled at the interaction between Mingyu and Minnie, still unsure if they’re officially together or not, but she had hoped they were. 

Slipping out of their dresses, y/n changed into Minnie's casual clothes, a pair of grey sweatpants and hoodie as Minnie slid into the red dress that fit like a glove. 

“I have makeup wipes and other stuff in my bag, feel free to use it.” 

“Okay.” 

“Ready, Seok?” 

“I think so, but what about Minghao? And the guys?” 

“I can call them for you, I still have my phone.” 

“But, how will you know when?” 

“Cameras.” 

“Wow, no shit. Okay. Be safe.” 

“Seokmin?” 

“Yeah, y/n?” 

“If you see Minghao.” 

“Don’t worry.” 

As y/n was peeling her makeup off, Minnie and Seokmin slipped back out the door they came in from and back into the party hoping to uncover truths for their friends as she was stuck in an office with her old flame, in secret once again. 

“Want a beer?” 

“Please.” 

Mingyu handed over a glass bottle as he popped the top off swiftly, y/n chugged at the golden liquid hoping it would settle her stomach slightly. 

“Minghao, huh?” 

“What?” 

“You guys, are uh? Dating? Friends?” 

“We’re just friends.” 

“For now.” 

“What?” 

“You like him.” 

“I did. I don’t even know anymore.” 

“You do. You just don’t trust him.” 

“Not fully, no. Not yet. I really only trust Seokmin and the guys. Which is sad.” 

“Not even me?” 

“I’ll be honest, I thought you had something to do with it for a while.” 

“Y/n, come on.” 

“I just wasn’t sure. Joshua told me everything. I know you didn’t. I’m sorry I doubted you I guess.” 

“Do you think if all of this never happened things would’ve been different between us?” 

“Maybe. How are you and Minnie?” 

“The same. I think she has a lot of stuff to work out before anything would ever be able to happen seriously.” 

“Like?” 

“A lot of things she should tell you herself, but I don’t like that she hurt you.” 

“Mingyu, you know-” 

“No. I know. It’s silly I still like you after you made it clear to me your feelings, but I can’t help it. I’m competing with your childhood crush and your knight in shining armor I get-” 

“No. Mingyu.” 

Y/n pointed to the screen, watching Minnie approach who y/n thought was maybe Mimi, watching their interaction carefully. Mimi ran her hand over Minnie's masked face and took Seokmin’s hand in hers, jumping a little bit off the ground. Holding her hands out to show them the work she had put in for y/n's birthday. 

“Do you think she knows?” 

“That it’s not you? Maybe. She is a good liar.” 

“She definitely is.” 

Y/n noticed to their side seated at a table was Minghao, something about his demeanor and watchful stance, plus the hint of the red mask, let her into the detail. 

“That’s Hao.” 

“In the red? Where’s Josh?” 

“To the left. White mask.” 

“What do you think they're talking about?” 

“No clue.” 

Mimi handed Seokmin and Minnie drinks off the tray that were brought over and cheered them on as she went to take her spot on the stage to introduce the DJ for the evening and also thank the guests for coming, a sign the party was officially in full swing. 

Y/n and Mingyu kept watching on as Seokmin and Minnie sipped their drinks, when he suddenly stopped her from putting the cup to her lips and swapped their drinks without letting Mimi onto what he was doing. 

“Do you really think she’d drug your or Minnie, but your drinks?” 

“I do. I told Seokmin to be careful. Joshua was the one actually who told me.” 

“Why do you think she hates you so much?” 

“Because I’m the only person who never put up with her shit.” 

“And you’re the only person who can get what she wants but can't have?” 

“Not true.” 

“It is. She wanted Josh, she got him, but really he wanted you. She got Minghao to fall for you unintentionally even though she had him first and wanted him to do her dirty work by lying. She hates you because you’re everything she isn't. Kind and Honest.” 

“I don’t feel that way. I never tell people what I want. Even Seokmin. I don’t know how to tell people my true and honest feelings. I just skirt around them. I act like I’m okay and I’m not. I’m not okay. I sometimes feel like she’s onto something. Maybe she’s helping me go after things I need.” 

“See.” 

“What?” 

“Even though she’s fucking with your life you have compassion enough to say maybe she’s helping you. You’re a good person, y/n.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Trust me. That’s why I fell in love with you.” 

“Don’t. Mingyu, please. Not now.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

As the pair was sitting and drinking at Mingyu’s desk, they entirely missed Mimi’s devious actions in spiking the drink that belonged to one of their friends.

“Wait. Why is she on stage?” 

“She’s talking.” 

“Do you have sound on your cameras?”

“Yeah, one second.” 

Mingyu unmuted his laptop and watched as Mimi paraded around the stage. 

“Hello, everyone. I’m Mimi, of course. I know you can’t tell under my mask. But, I’m here to celebrate the birthday girl, y/n. She has been in my life for a long time, we were such good friends as kids. Did you know y/n stole my boyfriend? It’s funny, she’s always doing things people don’t expect. I want to bring her up here tonight to let her tell you her story for herself as she turns another year older. y/n? Can you please come to the stage?” 

Seokmin nudged Minnie who was looking unwell, the girl on his side pretending to be someone she wasn’t slinked onto the stage next to Mimi, clearly inebriated. 

Mimi smirked and handed her the microphone, letting her know it was time for a speech. 

“Uh, Hi. Sorry, I’m not feeling well.” 

The crowd of people they may or may not have known the girl who stepped on the stage wasn’t the girl of honor, y/n and Mingyu watched in disbelief holding eachothers hands without realizing it. 

Minnie fell to her knees which prompted Seokmin and other masked guests including Joshua and Minghao to run to her side as the microphone cracked loudly over the speakers. 

Mingyu tugged tightly on y/n’s hand before she forced him to run out to the girl left on the small stage who had fainted. 

Y/n was sitting and watching everything go down when all of the sudden the lights cut out, following the last bit of light from the computer screen. 

“Y/n?” 

“Hello? Who is it?” 

“Aw, are you scared?” 

“Mimi?” 

“Who else?” 

“What's wrong with Minnie?” 

“Oh she’ll be fine. You should know better than to cross me. Bold of you both to go against what I actually had planned, but she meant well. I can't fault her for that."

“What do you want?” 

Y/n felt Mimi’s presence beside her, her breathing slowing more in the faint black room. 

“You. Well, for you to go away.” 

“If I agree to what you want, will you leave my friends alone?” 

“Yeah. I need you to do something for me first.” 

“What is that?” 

“Lie for me.” 

“Why?” 

A flashlight suddenly lit up the room, illuminating both of the girls' faces, Mimi had a sinister smile on her face. 

“Because you owe me.” 

“What do I need to do? And before I agree you have to promise me all of them will be okay.” 

“I promise.” 

"So?"

“I need you to go, I need you to find somewhere out of the city. I’ll tell your friends the rest. I put a bag in my car out front. It has everything, your phone, your wallet. Just get in and drive. I don’t care where you go, but just know if you show back up or contact them. I’ll find you. I’ll handle everything else.” 

“How do I know I can trust you?” 

“Hm. I’ll give you this.” 

Mimi handed y/n a small pink zip drive hooked onto her key unit. Something for her to hold onto. She took it in the palm of her hand and shoved it inside the pocket of Minnie’s sweats. 

“Can I ask you a favor if I do this?” 

“I guess. What is it?” 

“Take care of Seokmin and Jun. Even if you don’t get too close to them, just make sure they are alright. Everyone else can handle themselves. I just need to know the two of them will be okay.” 

“Yes, y/n. Your bitch boys will be well taken care of.” 

“Okay.” 

Y/n took the keys from the top of Mingyu’s desk, ready to make her exit as the tears welled up in her eyes. 

“Y/n?” 

“What?” 

“Aw, don't cry. I just need you to sign this letter I wrote. So they think it's from you.” 

Y/n took the pen from Mimi, only reading the first few words of the fake letter meant for her friends and signed her name at the bottom. Maybe it wasn’t right, but she knew if she ever got the chance to apologize they’d understand. 

“Actually can I ask you for one more thing before I go, Mimi?” 

“Yep.” 

“Why does it have to be like this?” 

“Well because I know if I don’t force you out I’ll never get what I want. Good luck, y/n. You’ll need it.” 

“Thanks. I guess.” 

Y/n slipped out the back door of Mingyu’s bar for what she thought would be the last time. She took a deep exhale watching her breath follow the wind as she walked to Mimi’s car and slammed the door shut behind her. Finally letting the tears fall from her face before she started it and drove away. 

She made a promise to herself as she left, just minutes until she became a year older. That somehow she’d find her way back, even though she may be picking up the pieces of what she left behind.

note: my girl y/n going thru it?? everyone going thru it?? ik she's not a text chapter but I hope u enjoy!! (also fully writing my author note low-key drunk?) anyway! after the next two chapter + the epi my big gawg is ending (sad?) but I hope u all will enjoy my pfd fic etc sorry it took me so long to get her up I wanted her to be good! ok! (steam nct dream smoothie ?? or unknown the whole album hits ily??)

taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo@minhui896@wonwooz1@porridgesblog@jasssy051@soonyoungblr@saucegirlreads@musingsofananxiouspotato@young-adult-summer@punkhazardlaw@bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo@k-drama-adict@90s-belladonna@blaycke@dnylwoo@to-mi-yo, @nonononranghaee

[proudahgase-exol]

He’s cute can you set me up with him Mingi?

Yunho x reader ft Mingi

Summary: On Seonghwa's birthday, you celebrate at a bar, well at the bar you had lost a bet with Jongho and it got you drunk. Despite trying to be discreet, you ask Mingi to set you up with Yunho, who was watching the hole thing.

Today was Seongwa’s birthday. We had all agreed to go to our usual bar, and that’s what we did. All the guys and I met at the club entrance, where we made our way in and found a table for the night. Wooyoung and Mingi had left to get some drinks to start the night. I was catching up with San, and Jongho joined the conversation that soon turned to us trying to see who could get drunk the fastest, and so we bet that whoever gets drunk first will have to pay for everything the winger wants for the next few days. Jungho went to get more drunk so we could start the bet.

 

It was after my 14th shot of vodka that I was pissed drunk, but I kept drinking, then Jungho left, god knows, and I was left sitting next to Wooyoung, who was busy on his phone. Mingi retreated from the bathroom and took Jungho’s spot next to me.

 

I was falling asleep on Wooyoung’s shoulder when I looked up and saw the most handsome man ever looking at me with a small smile on his face. I started blushing and turned to Mingi, who was surprised by my pulling at his arm.

 

“Hey Mingi Do you see the cute guy there? Well, he’s so handsome. Could you be a good friend and help me get a date with him?” I asked, trying not to be loud.

 

“What? Witch guy” Mingi asked, looking around.

 

“The guy who’s looking at us, he’s cute. Get his number for me." I replied, looking at the cute guy’s way, and noticed he was confused.

 

"Omg, he’s so hot. Please, Mingi, get his number before we go." I was treated to whine

 

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? I mean, you told Jungho you were a big girl that could do stuff for herself,” Mingi said, teasing.

 

“But what if he has a girlfriend? Ask him if he does,” I replied.

 

“Fine. Hey, Yunho, do you have a girlfriend? My friend here was wondering." Mingi asked in amusement.

 

“Ah no, but I do have my eye on this really pretty and funny girl." Yunho replied

 

I looked at the cute guy rather than at Mingi, and I broke down crying and tried to hide my face in embarrassment.

 

"Hey, what are you crying for?” Mingi asked

 

“I just humiliated myself in front of a hot guy,” I replied.

 

"Hey, y/n, we should go home. Your way to get drunk, come on lefts.” Yunho said he was worried.

 

“Wait what? No, I came here with my friends, and I’m sleeping over at their place. Mingi, the guy who has a crush, wants to take me  away." I said, clinging onto Mingi’s arm.

 

"No, y/n, it’s me, Yunho. We have been friends since forever now. Let’s go. You need to rest. I’ll let Seonghwa and Hongjoong know we are living.” Yunho said, laughing.

 

As Yunho got up to tell the guys we were leaving, I sat there looking at him than at Mingi still confused but trusted Mingi that the cute guy was our friend, so I waited for him patiently.

 

After Yunho came back, he took me by the arm and helped me get up since I was still drunk. I couldn’t walk right, so he helped me till we got on the Uber and went to the guy's place.

 

When we got there, Yunho placed me in a room and asked if I could change myself, and I said yes, so he gave me some clothes to change and walk out of the room. Once I was done, I called him in, and he helped me get my make-up off and tucked me in, then turned the lights off and walked out.

 

__

 

Yunho Popov (the next day)

 

When I woke up, it was a little early, and all the guys were fast asleep, so I got up from the couch where I slept last night since I gave my room to Y/N and grabbed my phone to order some breakfast.

 

By the time the food was here, half of the guys were awake, so I sent Seonghwa to wake y/n and Jongho up so we could all eat.

 

When Y/N and Jongho got to the kitchen, they were whispering, fighting about not making a bet about drinking ever again. We all watched in amusement as they sat down.

 

Y/N sat down next to Hongjoong and placed her head against Hongjoong’s shoulder. Y/n asked for painkillers, so Mingi gave her some, then I placed her food in front of her.

 

After we all ate, some left for their room and some went to the living room. I pulled her to the side before she left for the living room and asked me to talk to her in my bedroom.

 

__

 

"Hey, do you remember anything from last night?” I asked nervously.

 

"Well, I remember losing a bet than getting shitfaced drunk, but right after that everything went black,” she replied.

 

“Oh well, you were talking about this cute guy to Mingi; you even cried when “he” said he had his eyes on some,” I said with a nervous laugh.

 

 

“Why did you do mean by “he” ” She asked

 

“um, well, “he” is actually me… you asked Mingi asked me if I had a girlfriend, to which I said no, and said I had a crush. “ I was about to finish, but she cut me off.

 

“I asked Mingi to what?? Ooh no, Yunho I’m so sorry. I never thought I could get like that fuck,” she said, walking back and forth.

 

“What’s wrong?” I asked Worid.

 

"Well, I told Mingi about my crush, and I guess drunken me was trying to act on my feelings. Look, Yunho, I do like you, but I understand that you don't. I mean, you already like someone else,” she said, trying to walk away.

 

"Wait, I’m not finished." I grabbed her hand before she walked away. “I was going to say no, I don’t have a girlfriend, but I do like some, some who’s always there for me, some who are really good at almost everything, some who understand me and have the same interests as me, and that person is you every since you became friends with the guys, and I've liked you.” I replied nervously.

 

"Really, you're not joking, right?” She asked, looking me in the eyes.

 

“I could never... So, um, would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow at seven?” I asked

 

"Yes, omg, I would love to,” she said, blushing.

 

"God, finally, you guys took forever. I was about to hit you both. Now that you guys are a thing, will you stop asking me about one another? Because it’s getting old,  guys." We heard Mingi from the other side of the door.

 

“Since when have you been standing there?” I asked

 

“Long enough to say that you guys are stupid. Now kiss or do whatever a couple does." Mingi really, and we heard him walking away.

 

"Well, that was something. I guess we’ll have to have days with Mingi Third Wheeling." y/n asked, laughing

 

“I mean, we come in a package deal; you get two for the price of one,” I said, laughing along.

 

After that, we sat down on my bed, talking more about what happened last night and about how much we told Mingi about our crushes on each other.

It felt good to not have my crush on you hidden anymore. Now I can do all the things I always wanted to do for her. I will have to thank Mingi, also for encouraging me to ask her out but, that’s for another day.

The other version I had written (it's long gone 🥲) was better I don't like the ending much of this one but I had it finished for a few days now (and it ended to be posted) so I just need to fix some errors but I hope you guys like it 😅

[mynonclicheblog]

After seeing the first 5 minutes, it's VERY clear that both Ben & Devi's actions post-boink are very much (virtually 100%) being driven by fear and insecurity. They both feel awkward that it wasn't some epic fairytale First Time (because that happens sooooo often to teenagers in the real world, right?) and they're overthinking each others' behavior to the point that it's clouding their judgement.

I'd like to talk about them both, but I'm going to focus mainly on Ben since he appears to be our little troublemaker this season (compare w/ Devi's season 2) - and also, I think I have a better idea where his emotional/romantic development arc is going this season. To start off:

I'm sorry to the dxtons who tried to relay this scene in the most disparaging and anti-ben way possible, but this is the face of a boy who WANTS to talk. A boy who was surprised and excited when Devi turned towards him because he really really likes her and it seems like she's actually initiating communication- for real this time! All he's ever wanted was for them to talk candidly about their feelings!

...But then, like a teenage dum-dum (who is still nursing the wounds from two years ago), he hits the panic button. I, uh- I should probably hit the hay.

This swallows up the crumb of hope Devi was clinging to that maybe, just maybe, the whole thing wasn't as bad as she'd thought - and as we see in her following scene with Elfab, sure enough, she has been drowning in fear that she didn't measure up.

Girl... no he wasn't 😂 you were embarrassed for you, and Ben was embarrassed for Ben! [John McEnroe voice] That's how this works!

But it's just a great example of my very first point: that all of their thoughts, actions, and perceptions are based in insecurity right now. Fortunately for Devi, she has two supportive besties who know both her and Ben, who are here to talk and help her work through what to do next.

But as Ben tells Dwight Howard... he doesn't have any friends. So he resorts to a complete stranger.

I want to quickly point out the parallels between Ben & Devi's dialogue here (Devi in the last section and Ben in this one). They are both thinking about themselves. They're worried/making the assumption that the other person thought they... ehm... performed badly, and now they are confiding in other people rather than clearing it up with each other (because they're idiots [affectionate]).

Devi makes a great first step by inviting Ben out for coffee, and can I just say how PROUD I AM OF HER? Like, yes, love! Open up that avenue of communication! Talk it out! There's nothing to be afraid of!

But across the valley, Ben tells Dwight Howard that after having sex, Devi "didn't say anything, she just got up and sprinted out"... but that's not really what happened, is it? Ben fumbled the ball when he offered to call her an Uber, and Devi took that as her cue to leave. We (and Dwight) are listening to Ben's inaccurate retelling of events, skewed by the post-boink anxiety he's been stewing in. This boy who was once delighted that Devi turned over in bed to talk, has since repressed the mortifying moment that followed wherein he blew her off. Now all he remembers is her darting out the door.

In accordance with spoilers, it looks like Devi's Starbucks text comes through while Ben is still talking with Mr. Howard - and since Ben provided him with a misleading picture of how things went down, Dwight is going to tell him that Devi doesn't really love him. That she's just going to hurt him again. That he deserves someone who brings out the good in him. (All of this coming from a man who doesn't know Ben, has never even met Devi, and has no insight whatsoever into the relationship he's advising.)

Unfortunately for Devi (& us), this is Ben's biggest fear, so he listens. He takes the easy road yet again and pursues the less scary option... but she's still not Devi.

I truly believe that in the first few episodes when Ben talks to Devi, he is doing nothing more than basically parroting what others have told him. Why? Because those words will justify his urge to continue retreating to safety; they will enable him to avoid confronting his biggest emotional truth, something he's been running from for two years. As much as he obviously, clearly WANTS to give into his feelings for Devi, he's still afraid. And even though she's the one who hurt him, he still thinks she is incredible (which she is!!!), and that he couldn't possibly live up to what she deserves. There's so much to unpack here and I think this is a great way to make the events of season 2 a relevant topic again without being contrived.

Similar to Devi in seasons 2 & 3, I think Ben's arc is going to be about gaining the self-worth to stand on his own rather than passively agreeing to what others think he should do (i.e. Dwight and Margot).

The back half of the season will be Ben not only overcoming his greatest fear by talking with Devi and learning how deeply and genuinely she wants him this time around, but in doing so, he's going to become more confident in his relationship with her and learn to make his own decisions regarding it. He will learn that he can trust his own instincts again, no longer paralyzed by heartbreak or feelings of inferiority. He can trust Devi with his heart now. She's all in.

[lucy90712]

Angst! Pedri breaks up with Reader and they haven’t seen each other in months until he sees her and realizes she’s the one :)

wc: 2500+

After a horrific few months where I was just so sad after a break up the last few weeks I have finally got back to my somewhat normal self and been enjoying life again. As I've been in a relationship for the last two years I never got to fully enjoy living in Barcelona and going out with friends so that's what I've been doing and it's been fun. Going out to clubs really wasn't my thing before the break up but since I've tried to push myself out of my comfort zone and live my life a bit more so I have been a few times since. I've definitely enjoyed being out with my friends and seeing them have fun but I hate having guys come over and try to flirt with me because they are always drunk and I just don't want to be talking to any guys at the moment. 

Tonight my friends want to go out and I agreed to go with them but for some reason I'm just not looking forward to it. Something deep inside of me is telling me not to go but I don't see any real reason not to so I'm going to ignore the stupid feeling and enjoy myself. To help get over the bad feeling I have decided to get dressed up extra nice for tonight so I put on my favourite dress and did my makeup and hair all glam. Looking in the mirror after I was finally ready I felt good about myself for once I didn't have any negative thoughts in my head which stem from social media comments. Now that my relationship is over and I don't have people criticising everything about my appearance I feel like I've got a new found confidence which I really like as I've never had a huge amount of self confidence but now I'm building that. 

After some final touches to my makeup and outfit I was ready to go so called an Uber to take me to the club we had agreed to go to because I want to drink so don't want to leave my car overnight. The Uber luckily was quick and so I met my friends outside and we all went into the club together as we always stick together when we go out just to be safe. Like always the club was loud and dark but I've grown to like the atmosphere a bit as sometimes you can hide away and go unnoticed for most of the night which can be quite nice. As we walked in my friends saw some people they knew so I was dragged with them to go and say hi but along the way I thought I saw someone familiar too but I tried to forget about it. 

It took all of 5 minutes for me to realise why my gut was telling me not to come out. The realisation hit when I saw Gavi my ex Pedri's best friend who would definitely not be here without Pedri. I tried to tell myself that it was just someone who looked like Gavi but when he was stood just a few feet away from me at the bar and we caught each other's eyes I couldn't deny it anymore. Panic started to flow through me as I haven't seen Pedri at all since the night we broke up which is pretty hard when his face is plastered all over the city but now we may come face to face. 

The whole break up was really hard on me as Pedri and I had been together for two years and got together not long after he moved to Barcelona so we went through a lot together. He was the one that was there for me in some of the hardest moments of my life and I was there to support him through his early days at Barcelona. In the end he broke things off to focus on football just as the latest season was starting and as much as I have been trying to avoid it I've heard that things have been going well for the team and Pedri. Not only did the sudden break up hurt but knowing that Pedri really is doing better without me feels like a knife in my chest as I can't help but feel that I was holding him back all that time without meaning to. All of that makes the thought of seeing him make me feel sick but I agreed to come out and put a lot of effort into my appearance so I feel like I need to stay and enjoy myself.

Pedri's POV

Going out wasn't my idea but everyone was going so I felt the need to go with them even though for some reason my gut was telling me not to. When we got here everyone sat down and talked for a few minutes before sending Gavi off to go and get drinks as he missed his chance to get himself out of it. After he'd been gone for over 5 minutes I started to get worried that something had happened and when he came back that feeling didn't change because he was giving me a look which I knew meant something was wrong. Instead of just telling me what was up he dragged me off to a more quiet corner of the club and then just stared at me which didn't at all help the anxiety I was already feeling. 

"What's going on?" I asked 

"Umm well y/n is here I saw her while getting drinks and it was definitely her because I looked her right in the eyes" he explained 

"Was she with anyone?" I asked 

"Only her friends I didn't see any guy with them" he said 

"If you want to leave I'll come up with some sort of excuse to tell the others" he offered 

"No it's ok I was always going to have to see her one day" I said 

As much as I said I was going to stay I don't really want to because I don't know if I can deal with seeing her again even if the break up was completely my decision. It was such a stupid decision breaking up with y/n because it was supposed to be for me to focus on football and sure I've been playing well but I haven't been truly happy since. No win and no goal really mean anything anymore because y/n isn't there to celebrate with me like she always was before. It's hard to get motivated every morning when she's not there when I wake up and won't be there when I come back either. My life just hasn't been the same without y/n but I was the one that broke up with her for a completely selfish reason so I don't think she'd even want to talk to me again which I completely understand because if someone did that to me I wouldn't want to talk to them either. 

After taking a minute to think I went back to the table with everyone else and tried to enjoy myself but I really ended up just sat there. While sat down I happened to see y/n from across the room and once I did I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked so beautiful her hair and makeup were done and she had on her favourite dress which I used to love as it gave her more confidence. She was smiling and laughing with her friends and just seeing her smiling again broke my heart because I used to love seeing her smile it always made my day and being the one to make her smile was even better but I'll never be able to do that again as I made a stupid decision. 

The more I stared at her the more I realised just how dumb I was to break up with her. I had the perfect girl and I stupidly let her go because I thought I would be better off without her when in fact it's the exact opposite. When we were together I knew I loved her but now that we are apart I realise just how much I loved and still love her. Over the course of our relationship I never thought too much about the future because everything with football is always about the present  so I never thought much beyond that but now it's all I can think about. Now that it's too late I realise that I wanted a future with y/n I wanted us to get married, have kids and grow old together bit now she's clearly moved on and will want those things with other people. 

"You're staring man" Gavi said taking me out of my thoughts 

"She was the one and I let her go" I said 

"If you really think she's the one then you should go and talk to her and try to win her back because the longer you leave it the more likely she is to move on" he encouraged 

"I'm going to do it but if it goes wrong I'm blaming you" I said 

Your POV 

All night I've been glancing over at Pedri as I can see him from across the club and I don't even know why it's like I'm still drawn to him. He looks as handsome as ever with his shirt unbuttoned at the top showing off his chest and his beard that I always loved growing in. I so desperately wanted to be sat with him and for him to have his arm around my waist again like he would always do when we were in public together but he broke up with me for a reason and I can't have him back. Only once we were apart did I realise how much he meant to me and now seeing him again it's bringing back all of those thoughts I've worked hard to block out. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and I still can't imagine being with anyone else but at some point I'll have to move on or else I'll be alone forever. 

When my friends noticed me staring at Pedri they made me face the other way and gave me another drink to help distract me although it didn't really work. I tried my best to not think about Pedri but he kept crossing my mind even when my friend were pointing out other guys in the club I found myself comparing them to Pedri. Eventually I decided that in advance to move on and so I started paying more attention to the conversation and actually talking to my friends. Just as I was starting to enjoy myself again I felt and hand on my shoulder which without looking I knew would belong to a guy wanting my attention which usually I would ignore but tonight I need a distraction so I turned around. As I turned around I saw Pedri stood behind me and I nearly fainted but somehow I managed to hold it together and smile at him. 

"Hey" I managed to say 

"Hey I get if you don't want to talk to me but can I get you a drink for us to catch up over?" He asked 

"I wouldn't mind that" I replied 

He gently took hold of my wrist and brought me to the bar with him where he ordered my favourite drink and paid for it before taking me to a table for just the two of us. Once we sat down neither of us talked for a few moments before he asked me how I have been. To begin with things were kind of awkward as we haven't spoken in a few months but as the conversation continued we both got more comfortable and started get back to how we used to be. He talked about the team and how they have been playing really well and I told him about my recent promotion at work which I was working toward when we were still together. We talked about most things but avoided the topic of relationships but from what he was saying I got the impression that he wasn't seeing anyone else which made me happy as it meant there was still a chance for us to get back together. 

"I'm going to be honest with you y/n I really regret breaking up with you life just hasn't been the same since I haven't been anywhere near as happy as I was with you" Pedri admitted 

"I've missed you a lot too it's been hard hearing your name and all the things you've achieved without being able to celebrate them with you" I said 

"Then what are we doing I realise now that you are the one for me and I don't want to be with anyone else so if you are willing to would you want to give this another go?" He asked 

"You're the one I want to be with too and I want to get back together but I want to go slowly and build the relationship again so we don't have any problem" I said 

"Of course we can do whatever you want I just want you back" he said 

"You've got me back but don't ever let me go again I don't think I'll survive breaking up with you again" I joked 

"I'll never let you go ever again" he said 

Just like I was wishing for earlier he slid his arm around my waist and I rested my head on his shoulder just enjoying being back in his arms. We probably looked like weirdos to anyone else in the club but I was more than content just being with Pedri now that he’s mine again. We sat together for a little while before he took me over to his friends who were all glad to see us back together especially Gavi who didn’t hesitate to tell me all the things Pedri has been saying while we were broken up which had Pedri blushing but I loved to hear it. 

Eventually I was ready to go home so went to get and Uber but Pedri didn’t let me instead he said goodbye to his friends and we went to his car so he could drive me home. The entire way Pedri had his hand on my leg rubbing gently circles on my knee like he always used to which had both of us smiling from ear to ear. Once back at my place he walked me to my door and put both of his hands on my waist to pull me closer to him. I looked into his eyes for a few moments before we both began to lean in and finally our lips met in a kiss that was just like our first full of love and passion. He gave me one last kiss before leaving me in my apartment thinking about his a bad night turned into the best because I got my everything back. 

[pennedbyeve]

I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THESE PICTURES.

Note:

Hi you guys. I’ve been toying with this idea for a while, but I did not want to publish it for no apparent reason. But after talking to Zee I ripped the bandaid off and here we are. Johnny is my baby and as I write this, Amira has become my other baby. The reason why I named this sunflower is simple - sunflowers are my favorite flower, and the two of them both go through tremendous growth. Though initially they will frustrate you, but that’s what makes a story good in my opinion.

Also friends to lovers is my favorite trope so writing this makes your girl happy without further ado, I hope you all like this.

One

Johnny

CHANGE WAS NEVER A GOOD THING. Well at least to him it wasn’t. He had a steady routine and was not trying to deviate from the normalcy of this thing called life.  He was a creature of habit for sure, today was not an expectation to that. He had stopped by the local coffee shop, near his apartment and he was getting ready for work. The same old mundane 9-5, he hated but it put the food on the table, at least that was a good thing, right? 

The bustling Chicago commute was never something he was ever used to, even though he had been here his whole life, sitting in the uber drinking his lukewarm coffee he was now ready for yet another, Monday morning.  The hustle and bustle never stopped once it was time for him to get out as he clutched onto his coffee mug, he headed into the office buildings, and it was going to be another day of work. 

For the last three years he had been working as an accountant to a local business, he could recall his excitement when he told his mom when he first got hired, but now that the flashness and everything had died down, it felt like everything was on a constant cycle, though he was acclimated to it and adjusted, if he had to pivot, he could.  

Now that he was in his mid-twenties now and he was ready to settle down, he knew that marriage was one thing he had always wanted and desired, but his contenders were not his match, the ones his mom would attempt to set him up with just felt like a mismatch puzzle piece, and he never wanted to force anything.  

He had his own expectations on his own personal wants and desires, but he knew that there was someone out there for him, or at least that’s what he prayed for.  Of course, the doubts and his own insecurites would tell him otherwise, but he had a good solid group of friends – that reminded him that he was indeed worthy of love.  

He saw how his parents operated in their marriage and he knew that one day he wanted that for himself. 

After being at work – he was beyond ready to go, the evening commute was quieter than the morning, and the breeze was something he often looked forward to.

He found himself in the elevator ready to his floor, when he stepped in the scent of vanilla engulfed his nose, as he looked up at there she was – someone he had not seen in over a decade, the emotions that he thought he had moved on from were circulating his brain.

Amira Desiree Bulter, his first best friend from when they first met when they were five, from pinky promises to prom, they did everything together they both had went through ups and downs in their lives and then one summer everything changed. 

He decided to stay in Chicago for college, she went to Atlanta, she had promised they would keep in contact with each other, but that was nothing less than the truth.

The elevator felt like it took forever to reach his floor, he slid past her, being that he was much taller than her it was easier to get off the floor.

Then he saw her step off the elevator along with him and his mind started to go over a mile a minute.

He remembered that Omar, his landlord mention the day prior that someone was moving in, but he did not care to even ask who the person was.

When he made it to his apartment he dug into his pocket, he patted around for his key as he retrieved it out his pocket, he watched as she went across the street to her own apartment, now he wondered how things will play out hopefully, they would just see each other every blue moon and not too often.

“Johnny?”

Her voice was just as he remembered, extremely soft and melodic.  He could tell she was hesitant.

  He turned around to look at her – the last time they saw each other she was a few inches shorter, and her face still had some baby fat.

He couldn’t even form the words to speak to her, and he knew that was going to eat him alive all night.

Amira

SEEING JOHNNY BROUGHT BACK ALL THE FEELINGS. She thought she was over the thoughts she had but they were still fresh in her brain even years later. Leaving Chicago, she made a vow to never come back.   

Atlanta was nice, but she knew she that this was not her forever home, when she got into school her sole focus was bettering herself, but in the back of her mind she could not escape the thoughts of Johnny that circulated in her mind. When she saw him in the elevator the thoughts of seeing him again were never in the cards, so she could not believe her eyes when she saw him.

She knew he had questions, but this was not the time for any of that just yet, now that she noticed they were neighbors there was no escaping him, she prayed that they worked opposite hours because if not it would be so awkward.

As she moved the last box into her house, she was ready for the new beginnings, but the fact that she saw Johnny again, made her question everything to begin with, she put her box braids up into her bonnet, she wanted the night to be over, but her mind kept racing about the what ifs and the endless possibilities, as she laid on the bed, she knew that this was her new reality, and she was ready to face the things that life threw in her way.

[darbuckle21]

Winters coming

Mob! Bucky Barnes X reader

Crime Family: Avengers

The Don: Tony Stark

The Underboss: James Barnes

The Consigliere: Steve Rogers

The Capos: Natasha Romanoff - Clint Barton -Bruce Banner

The Soldiers:  Wanda Maximoff - Vision - Peter Parker - Sam Wilson -

Info: Y/N is used- Cussing- Fem! Reader- mentions of violence

His life all dark and bland until he met you. He was out to eat in a restaurant Tony owned. He was there for "business" along with Steve. That’s when he met you, you were the waitress serving them. You had the brightest smile he has ever seen. How did you end up working here? He wonders watching as you set down the food they ordered. “Last but not least the chicken parm for you! May I refill your drink?” You ask smiling as he nods his head. “Bourbon, and may I get some extra sauce?” He asks flashing you a charming smile. You nod your head grabbing his glass. By the time the meeting ends he is tired and annoyed, but at least you were a small light in his boring evening. He couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole time, and eventually decided he would ask to you out. He stuck behind waiting till you came back over asking if he needed anything else. “Is there anything else I can do? Desert?” You offer smiling as you clear away the left over plates. “Yes actually, as you can see I’m very lonely is there anyway you could keep me company?” He questions messing with the ring on his pinky. “Sure I have a couple tables to clean off first then I’ll be right over” he smiles as you walk away quickly finishing picking up. He watches as people leave and it’s just the two of you. Then you return with a big piece of apple pie and two forks. “All we have left right now so I figured we could share, if you don’t mind?” You explain sitting across from him. He smiles taking a fork stabbing the pie and plopping it into his mouth. “So, what’s your name?” You ask mouth full of pie. “James, but my friends call me Bucky” You then introduce yourself and by the time you finish the pie and wash the plate it is well past sun down. “Thanks for the great ending of the night Bucky” You smiles pulling your Jacket closer to your cold body. “Doll, you sure you don’t want me to call an Uber?” He worries as you shake your head. “I don’t live far, I’ll be fine” he shakes his head not believing you. “It’s freezing cold and it’s the middle of the night, I’m walking you home” you can tell by his tone this is not a question it’s a fact. “Here take my coat, that thin Jacket isn’t gonna keep you warm” he takes off his thick warm coat putting it over your shoulders so you can slide your arms through. “So, why’d you move here?” He asks meeting your surprised eyes. “How’d you know I’m not from here” you ask confused and slightly amused. “It’s the middle of winter and all you brought is a small jacket” he laughs kicking a rock. “Wow you must be some kind of all knowing witch” you tease. “Wait wait wait, guess what number I’m thinking!” You shout making eye contact with him trying not to blink. “Hmmm, let’s see your thinking of the number four” he smiles as he plays along. “Nope, guess your not as cool as I thought” you fake a frown. “Don’t frown doll!” He laughs. “Hmm maybe you can make me smile again?” You fake pout crossing your arms. “Would a piggy back ride make you smile again?” You immediately nod your head. He bends slightly so you can climb on. Once on his back you point down the block towards your apartment. “Forward my loyal knight!” To on lookers it looks like two childish friends walking home, but to him? It’s like he’s dreaming, he’s never been happier than in this moment with you. “It’s the one on the corner” you point out as he slowly lets you down. “And the loyal knight dropped off the princess at her castle where he asked her on a date” he smiles as you giggle. “The princess says yes and gives the knight her number” you play along pulling out your phone and showing him your info. He watches as you then walk into your apartment only leaving once you made it inside safe.

“Bucky this place is so cute!” You giggle as you pet the cats circling your legs. He was determined to keep you out of his business life at all costs, and he is going to do this the old fashioned way. “I figured you’d like it” he laughs as a all white cat continues to try to reach you from its spot on a couch. Only to fall off landing on the hard floor of the cat cafe. “Awh poor kitty” you giggle as you pick up the small kitten. “It says her name is Alpine” Bucky smiles petting the cat. The two of you spent about an hour drinking coffee and letting the small kitten you’ve both come to love. Eventually Bucky gives in and adopts the cat. You could not be happier with his decision. After a couple months of dating you guys made it official. Your favorite moments were spent together with the kitten watching movies. Sometimes he would even come to your apartment after work and let you comfort his stress levels with a massage. Bucky’s life was going great till he began to notice familiar faces around your apartment and at your job. He always wrote it off as his paranoia until he saw him talking to you. Zemo stood outside your job sharing a cigarette with you as he laughed at something you had said. All Bucky saw was red, but he practiced self restraint by not killing Zemo on sight. Instead he waited till Zemo stopped at the gas station that night and left him a little "gift".

[canmom]

L’Aventure de Canmom à Annecy - Dimanche/Lundi

Bonsoir mes amis!

I am in Annecy, the unreasonably picturesque home of the Annecy International Animated Film Festival! I have discovered that the Annecy International Animated Film Festival involves a lot more standing in long queues in the hot sun than I expected! Nevertheless, I’m here and making the best of it.

So.

dimanche - le voyage à annecy

First of all, Sunday! I set off at 3am on Sunday morning, taking a bus, followed by two tubes, followed by another bus to the airport. The last bus was late. I met a couple of nice PhD students on their way to the same airport, and they were gonna get all of us an uber, but then the bus showed up after all.

At the airport, security threw away my 200ml bottle of sunblock. Can never be too careful I guess >< Inevitably, Richard Dawkins and his little pot of honey leapt unbidden into my brain. I promise I did not call anyone a “dundridge”.

The flight itself was uneventful! I was behind three other Annecy-goers, a very sweet gay couple and their friend... we hit it off pretty well but they were on a later bus and I haven’t seen them since I got here ^^’ Once I landed in Geneva I was racing across the city to try to get to the Annecy bus in time (I left myself an hour, which turned out to be way too little time to get through customs, out the airport, onto the train etc.) Trains in Switzerland are nuts, some of them are split across multiple levels and even the ones that aren’t have like, steep steps to get aboard.

Like “fuck you if you’re in a wheelchair” I guess.

Luckily the bus to Annecy was late! So by midday on Sunday I was in Annecy!

I ran into a group of Swiss animation students who were happy to let me tag along for a while. They just finished their graduation films and they were terribly excited about Spider-Verse. They ended up arranging to meet a couple of animators at Cartoon Saloon so I ended up witnessing some honest to god Networking. The imposter syndrome kicked in about when they were showing the cartoon saloon animators clips from their demo reels. I didn’t even have business cards. Apparently that’s a thing people bring???

pictured: swiss animation students approaching Lake Annecy.

Anyway my legs got really tired from standing up and no sleep. I bought myself an expensive crêpe and sat down on the floor to eat it. No films were due to start for hours.

I went down to a comic book shop in Bonlieu. French comic book shops are fucking insane. All the books are enormous glossy hardbacks that cost like 50+ euros. I could totally walk away with the complete works of Moebius or Enki Bilal if things like ‘money’ and ‘getting through the airport’ and ‘not reading French’ weren’t factors. But equally there’s so much stuff that I’ve just plain never heard of. I could spend a month in this one shop easy.

At 3am my hotel checkin opened! Though in French you don’t say ‘check in’, you say j’ai un reservation. By this point I had been awake for more than 24 hours so I decided to go have a nap and eat the falafels I brought with me (very good idea, would recommend having a snack) and wake up for the opening ceremony.

Hotel comments: It’s pretty comfy! Nothing super fancy but I don’t need super fancy. The breakfast is kind of crazy expensive. I had a bit of a scare when it turned out that they hadn’t charged me when I booked the room, and wanted payment now, but thankfully I have a job now so I could take that in stride ^^’

At this point I discovered my plug adapter supports the US, Australia, New Zealand and Japan... but not Europe. Fortunately I had a power bank with me so I could keep my phone alive (its battery is pretty shot) so I resolved to buy a new adapter on Monday.

I woke up shortly before the opening ceremony and quickly concluded that there was no way I was going to be making it down to the opening ceremony and went back to sleep. I slept a really long time. But I think I needed it. Shame to miss the ceremony but odds are I probably wouldn’t have even been able to get in, someone else said she’d queued for two hours.

lundi - les files d'attente 

(lmao is that really the french for ‘queues’? ‘files d’attente’?)

A beautiful morning in Annecy! I walked over to the supermarché and got myself some pasta ingredients and a ‘veggie dog’ (falafels in a baguette) from a French bakery. I learned just how limited my French vocab is. But it’s a little reassuring to find French people who speak about as much English as I speak French. (Have not yet tried to speak Japanese to any French person but it will probably happen.)

Anyway. Films time, at last!

So the way Annecy works is, you get a certain number of reservations per day depending on your ticket type. If you don’t have a reservation you can optimistically show up at the theatre anyway, and whatever seats they have left go to the line. From the website it sounded like you’d have a pretty good chance to get in.

My friends. That is a lie.

To get in to a popular non-reserved screening you have to turn up basically hours in advance. Otherwise you arrive at the back of a queue like this, stand in line for a while, and then someone in a red shirt comes out and tells you you’re too late and you go find something else to do.

I have already become very familiar with this particular stretch of ground outside Cinema Pathé. That said, the queues are a good chance to meet people! So I ended up making a couple of connections, mostly with animation students from various places. It turns out a ‘Grand Public’ ticket is a bit of an odd duck.

As you can see in that picture, a lot of people had umbrellas. This is something I neglected, and had to use my bag instead, like so:

Guess where I got sunburned.

One of those something elses I did was walk into the VR films room. This runs on its own reservation system, with each film having somewhere between 2 and 6 headsets, which get sanitised between viewings. The whole room looks kinda scifi with its cables dangling from the ceiling...

The only VR film available when I arrived was called Black Hole Museum + Body Browser by Su Wen-Chi from Taiwan. This was very demoscene, with a lot of particles flying around under force fields in a black and white space; the second part involved a dancer who’d been photoscanned somehow and was displayed using waves of particles. It was neat, but I can’t say I was hugely moved? The display device was a Quest 2, but I’m not sure if it was running the particle sim on Quest 2 hardware. If it was, I’m impressed.

The other VR films were all but fully booked so I resolved to come back another day.

I tried to get into the anime film The Tunnel to Summer, the Exit of Goodbyes. Predictably, I was too late. However, the next queue over was for a Spanish film called Inspector Sun and the Curse of the Black Widow, and, wanting to see at least one film I hopped onto that queue and found myself inside the cinema in short order.

The auditorium was packed and I got to witness firsthand such Annecy traditions as throwing paper aeroplanes at the screen, shouting ‘Lapin!’ whenever a rabbit appears onscreen, and making a weird popping sound with your mouth while waiting for the film to start (??? it sounded like frogs ig???). The movie itself was greeted with excitement but honestly? It was pretty eh, which is a shame since the idea of a world of bugs is a fun one! The story concerns a bumbling spider detective, his aspiring sidekick spider, and his feud with the leader of a locust underworld, playing out on a seaplane en route to San Francisco. The characters are all very one-note archetypes, and the dialogue felt like it was trying way too hard to be funny quippy movie dialogue... only to land on the painfully obvious. A big shame.

But what’s worse is that I had spent my one daily reservation on Mars Express by Jérémie Périn at 4:30 and I’d completely lost track of time. By the time I walked out of Inspector Sun my phone was almost dead (see above about the adapter) so I popped into a French electronics store and bought a couple of EU adapters and set off to charge my phone. But then on the bus I thought, hold on a minute, when is Mars Express, I have like an hour right---oh fuck. Well fine it’s at Bonlieu right? I can just walk there? ...it’s at Le Mikado Novel? Where the fuck is that? Half an hour away?

...so to make a long story short I got off the bus, walked down the street, my phone died, there was no way I could find my way to Le Mikado in time to get in even with my reservation, so I had to go back to my hotel and waste my precious reservation. And I hear the film was great. Sob.

There are a bunch of other screenings this week but they’re all packed so who knows if I’ll get to see this movie.

Despite this big oof I charged up my phone and headed back to meet up with my friend (hi to my friend!) who was in the queue for Production I.G.’s new film The Concierge. My friend was more than an hour early, so we thought we had a pretty good chance... lol nope. After standing in line for 45 minutes we were informed the cinema is full and had to leave.

It wasn’t a complete waste though. We met up with another friend and had a little picnic of bagels. Unfortunately the bagel I got was not the bagel I thought I was getting (idk what happened) but even so, it was nice to meet two online friends who by bizarre coincidence both turned out to be from Singapore.

To close the night I decided to take one more shot at getting in to see a movie, and went for a late showing of The Sacred Cave, a movie from Cameroon. Which is pretty neat, it’s not every day you see a movie from Cameroon. This one was... well, technically it’s definitely rough, but I don’t wanna be hard on it. The story is a fairy tale: a traditional healer is called in to attempt to save a dying king, and he dispatches his son on a mission to retrieve special medicine alongside the Prince.

On the way the son encounters a weird forest wizard, then a princess of a neighbouring clan who’s been turned into an anthro frog by an evil wizard; as he tries to head back with the medicine, he’s captured by said clan and almost executed, but because of his pure nature he alone can draw the special magic sword, and using this power he helps his captors overcome the evil wizard’s raiding party. But on the way home he gets betrayed by the Prince! A whole lot of betraying unfolds, killing off the old seer, and it turns out that our boy is actually the true son of the King. Despite the whole ‘executing his adoptive father on spurious charges’ thing, it all shakes out; the baddies are driven off, the princess unfrogged, and our very special good boy is rewarded.

It’s animated largely in Flash, and it has the feel of an online Flash video. All the same, I believe this is the first feature-length animated film from Cameroon. Bootstrapping an animation industry capable of putting together a coherent film is a hell of a feat, and must take an enormous degree of passion and dedication to make that happen. (Also not to put too fine a point on it but there are certain historical reasons why France has a much more developed animation industry than the country it had colonised until 1971.) Anyway, although principally made in Cameroon, the credits name a whole bunch of different countries, mostly in West Africa. Probably it would make sense to compare it to Princess Iron Fan or something like that, and I’m excited to see what comes down the line. And it was a very sincere movie, the setting presented with a great deal of love, especially when it came to costumes. I’m glad to have seen it.

Tomorrow morning Im gonna get up very early and take another shot at The Concierge, and try and plan better around the queuing system to try to make the best of it and catch more of the short films. It’s definitely not been the day of back to back films I was expecting, but honestly despite all that I’m having a good time just being in Annecy and the week is yet young...

good god is it expensive here though

[lilykong]

Things I want to remember about Lori

Among many memories:

When we were in 8th grade, we somehow got the inspiration to try out to be 8th grade commencement speakers. We had no business trying out for this - we didn't really like anyone and we didn't particularly have much school pride. But there must have been this inherent drive to make our mark at the school; maybe it was our way to do something together at school for the last time. I distinctly remember we AIM-ed a friend of mine for some inspiration, and he said to say something along the lines of how middle school is the "stepping stone" to the rest of our futures. We definitely put that in the speech and definitely didn't get chosen.

In 7th grade, I met Lori. I'm sure we met in 6th grade, too, but we didn't get close until 7th. She always brought these little tic-tacs to school that were individually wrapped. The tic-tacs looked more like Advil shaped and on contact with the tongue, tasted like marshmallows before mint. She always brought me one or two. She'd fiddle with the wrapper in her hoody front pocket, and by the end of the day, her fingers were metallic. I'm going to buy a bunch of those tic-tacs if I ever see them in the future.

In 8th grade, a group of us got to go to Catalina Island on a trip to learn about marine biology or something. I honestly don't remember much about the trip anymore other than learning about echolocation by crawling through a pitch dark tunnel and eating little bits of cooked squid. But the funniest thing I remember is that Lori and I decided that we would not take showers after snorkeling in the afternoon, because we'd go back in the water the following day. The following day, the showers were out of service, so Lori and I returned home with unwashed ocean hair (compounded over 3 days). My mom was not pleased.

Lori and I went to different high schools, but we still made it a point to see each other throughout the year. Definitely every summer and every winter. Our catch-up sessions always lasted for hours, and our favorite places to meet were Catalina Coffee and Coffee Cartel. She was such an amazing listener, and I always felt so heard and seen. I think we trusted each other at a young age.

When we were grown adults, Lori came to visit me in Berkeley when she was living in Napa. We went to an Allen Stone concert and decided to go out to Raven, which was the hottest club in SF at the time. At Raven, we ran into Lori's Coffee Meets Bagel date from earlier in the day, lol. He bought us drinks but Lori was definitely not very interested. To be honest, I don't have many memories of Lori from the actual club, but when Raven closed for the night, we somehow got ourselves out and called an UBER POOL (to save money). Lori sat in the back with two strangers, and I sat in the front. Once we got to my apartment, Lori was so knocked out, I had to lift her out of the car. I was not quite stable myself so we teeter-tottered a bit in front of said strangers and fell in unison onto the ground. It was so embarrassing, and we got scratched and bruised, lol. The funniest part of this continuous story is that the next morning, I woke up to Lori sleeping on the floor. When I stepped on the ground, I felt that it was damp and authentically thought that Lori peed on the ground in her sleep. Later, we found out that Strawberry Creek ran below the apartment building and it literally seeped up into my room, which is wild and a total housing code violation that we probably could have gotten rent abatement for.

Later into our adulthood, Lori and I got to fulfill our teenage dreams and became roommates in a dingy Berkeley apartment. She told me one day that she was considering adopting a dog and that if she did, she would write off dating for the foreseeable future. She was truly a woman of her word. She adopted Daisy, a spunky yorkie mix, and we co-pawrented her. She was an annoying (but cute) dog, and my blood pressure used to rise whenever she would bark without reason at just about anything. I will love Daisy in perpetuity though, because she will always be something Lori and I shared.

The image I remember of Lori - petite as ever, hair color of the month (pink or blonde balayage or black), skinny jeans, t-shirt (for some reason I imagine a striped shirt), cardigan, scarf, little backpack, and flats. Or shorts with leggings and flats. Bitten nails, aside from maybe one or two longer nails. And a hint of mustard yellow, of course.

Lori was generally a pretty quiet person but when she thought something was funny, she'd have a little explosive burst of laughter. And on the topic of her quietness, she was by no means a pushover. She had immensely strong personal convictions/integrity and drive (and stubborn).

Lori always sent cards - for the holidays, birthdays, big moments. Her message was always short and concise, but she never missed one. She also always sent a little something for Abbie.

She always called kids, kiddos, and called dogs, puppers.

I miss her so much already. Lori was kind of a time capsule for me -- a witness to the most insecure and awkward years as teens. The safest place to be in friendship. A vault of a confidant. Lori may have been the one who taught me loyalty and reciprocity in friendship. She could not stand to owe anyone a single dollar, even though there were moments I just wanted to shower her with love. I wish I did more for her. It really is true that when you lose someone, you think about the things you could have done while they were alive with you. I will miss you forever, Lori. Thank you for being one of the best friends I could have ever asked for.

[callin4mariiia]

Part 3 of “5.5 Years”

After he attempted to blow up my life I ceased all contact once again, I packed up and moved back to Florida which was a very short stay and eventually ended up coming back to MD. It’s now 2017 and I am in a relationship. A good relationship, or at least the healthiest one I had ever been in. We got along very well! And we’re together for 2 years, things felt very good and probably the most normal I’ve ever felt in my life! Then we make it to the beginning of 2020 and the pandemic comes - we did not last through that!

This man was great to me! Like everything I wanted or felt like I needed and I hated that we ended up splitting and how we did.

Fast FWD to March 2020, something in my brain told me to reach out to HIM & I did just that.

Something about him made me feel excitement and again I knew what would come with contacting him, I ignored it again because red flags look like 6 flags to me. When I called him he acted for a moment that he didn’t know who was calling him and eventually asked me to come do his hair…. Hair? He grew his hair out in the years that we weren’t speaking and without hesitation I grabbed my blow dryer and products and hopped in an Uber. The address that he gave me by ear was unfamiliar but when I arrived I instantly remembered where I was……. One night years ago he came to pick me up and he brought me to an apartment that I had never been to before and it turned out to be his fathers house, the running trend to how our time spent together would involve getting drunk with his drink of choice at the time Hennessy and doing that thing he liked. EVERY TIME! 🚩

That particular night that we were at his fathers house I just wanted to spend time with him so I barely drank, he pointed out that I was nursing my drink and took me into the bathroom to smoke. I watched him smoke and once we left the bathroom he unzipped on the couch and I expressed my disposition which irritated him. He grabs his keys and I’m thinking okay he’s just going to take me home….. WRONG! Without saying a word from the apartment door all the way down to his car, once we get to his car he only unlocks his door and I’m confused - unlock the door???? He tells me to find a way home!!!! 🚩🚩🚩🚩

IT WAS 2AM!!!! Before I could even get a word out he hopped in his car and sped off leaving me in the middle of the apartment complex parking lot. I didn’t know where I was, I had never been out there before and I was scared as hell! I walked for a minute looking for an open place and halfway up the street there was another apartment building and the lobby was open and lit enough for me to feel safe. Thankfully I was able to get in contact with a friend of mine, when I called him asking him if he could give me a ride home he asked no questions other than where are you? He picked me up and by the time I got home it was 6AM.

That man left me stranded and didn’t give a damn.

Back to March 2020, when I got to the apartment that memory crowded my brain but I walked up to the door and knocked and he answered the door with a smile. I came in and shortly after that his father emerged, I had never met him before this day but he was so nice! His father immediately welcomed me at his home. I get to doing his hair and we’re talking and catching up laughing at things like we’d normally do after getting back in contact with each other. Once we get past the hair he asks me to stay and I did, of course the alcohol comes out and we have sex. 🚩 That was March 5th the day we decided to actually be in a “relationship.

After this day I kept coming back, his birthday came and I was on my period so I declined to take my pants off which ruined his mood.🚩

[w2soneshots]

Long time no see -W2S

words: 0.7k+

warnings: brief talk about a break up.

summary: you run into your childhood best friend and you remember the intense feelings you have for him.

Today it's my best friend's birthday and I'm currently getting ready to go on a night out to celebrate. I slicked my hair back, did my make up and picked an outfit. I got a text from Hannah (my best friend) that the uber was waiting outside. I quickly grabbed my bag and rushed out of my apartment.

Once we arrived outside of the club we thanked the driver and got out of the car. We walked into the club and immediately went to get a drink. After almost an hour we got bored and decided to go to another club that was just a 10 minute walk away from where we are now. We collected our things and started walking to the other club.

Me and Hannah were walking along taking when I heard my name "y/n?" I looked forward to see Harry Lewis. Me and Harry met during school in Guernsey and were great friends but lost contact when he moved away. Guernsey is where I grew up but I moved to London almost a year ago and only go back to visit. "Hey, long time no see!" I said pulling him into a hug. "how are you?" He asked as we pulled away. "good! I moved to London a while ago. I would have called but I lost your number." I said.

We ended up exchanging numbers and said goodbye. I spent the rest of the night getting pepperd and celebrating Hannah's birthday, I got home at around 3am and fell straight into bed after stripping my clothes off. The next morning I woke with one of the worst hangovers of my life. I spent most of the day rotting in bed until I started to feel a little better so took a shower.

Once I was clean and in a sweat set I grabbed my phone from my bedside table and started scrolling through my messages. Lots were from Hannah sending me pictures from last night and a sweet thank you text that read: "thank you for an amazing night, wouldn't want to have spend my birthday with anyone else❤️" I smiled at the text and replied to her.

When I clicked out of our conversation I spotted a text from "Harry Lewis" I furrowed my brows. I clicked on the text "nice seeing you again, hope you're not too hungover" I laughed. "you too, and I'm definitely hungover👍" I wrote. he text me back almost immediately "I was gonna ask if you wanted to meet up for dinner sometime, so we can catch up?" "free this Friday?" I asked. "7:00?" He sent, "perfect".

Friday came around quick, I spent the day working and got home around 5:00pm. I got straight in the shower, dried and styled my hair, put on some makeup and chose a casual outfit. Harry sent me a text saying he'd be at my apartment in 10 minutes (I gave him the location of my apartment the other day when he asked if he could pick me up). I grabbed my bag and headed down to the lobby.

Once Harry text me that he was outside I quickly ran towards his car since It was super windy. "hi!" he said before starting up the car. "hey." I said while putting my seatbelt on. We talked the for the whole 15 minute car ride and by the time we were getting out of the car to walk into the restaurant It was not at all awkward and felt like we were back in high school laughing on the way to one of our lessons.

When we got inside and sat down we ordered our food I started talking. "how's Katie?" I asked. His face dropped. "shit" I thought. "we're not together anymore." he said. I bit my lip "sorry." I said sympathetically. "It was for the best." he said. "well, Is Herb still alive?" I asked. he laughed and nodded. We continued to chat, laugh and eat as we sat in the restaurant. Once we finished our dinner we left and Harry drove me home.

"We'll have to catch up again." he said as we stood just outside of his car. "definitely. thanks for dinner Harry." I said smiling. We looked into each others eyes, leaned forward and our lips connected, my arms made there way around his neck and his at my waist. Once we pulled away Harry said "I've wanted to do that since I met you."

[number1mingyustan]

Back2U (01:27AM) ✹ ☾

fwb! yeonjun x fem! reader

Genre: friends with benefits au

Warnings: unprotected sex, penetration, cheating, cursing, rough sex, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, choking, drunk sex, mentions of alcohol

Summary: You never thought you’d see yourself as the other woman. But every time your phone rings and you see his caller ID, you can’t help but keep going back.

Word Count: 1.6k

(a/n: not a surprise but this is not proof read 😘 and this is based off one of my fav songs !!)

The soft buzzing of your phone woke you up from your slumber. You lazily extend your arm, reaching over and grabbing the phone. You tilt it, only to feel your heart sink when you read the caller ID.

Incoming Call from: yeonjun🖤

You glance at your bedside clock, 1:27 a.m. You debate answering the call, well aware of why he’s calling. You sigh, ultimately pressing the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice is raspy and it’s obvious that you’ve only recently woken up.

“Baby,” he replies. Your heart flutters at the nickname. “Can you come over?”

Such a simple question has your heart pounding. You know better than to go over there. He didn’t treat you the way you deserved and you were far from a priority to him.

“Yeonjun I thought we agreed-“

“We didn’t agree on anything,” he slurs. “You- You decided on your own that you’d stop. I never said I was okay with it. Besides, I know you miss me.”

He wasn’t lying. Every time you guys met up, you felt guilty about it. You kept telling yourself it would be the last time. And the last time you guys got together, you told him it was the last time.

But truthfully, both of you knew it wouldn’t be.

“I really can’t,” you sigh. “I told you it was the last time.”

“She’s not here Y/n,” he chuckles. “We got into another fight and she stormed out. Won’t be back ‘til tomorrow. I miss you.”

This was a situation you knew all too well. Yeonjun and his girlfriend have been together for nearly 3 years. However, much like your relationship with him, hers was far from healthy. They fought like crazy and it only grew more toxic when they moved in together.

The first time you ever slept with him, you had no idea he was in a relationship. So you kept sleeping with him. However, that only lasted a short while. Eventually you found out about her, but it didn’t stop you from going back to him. You hate yourself for it, but somewhere along the line you fell for him.

Hard.

Before you found out about the girlfriend he treated you like a princess. The two of you had built a relationship that was more than just sex. He bought you gifts and took you out, and you truly fell in love with him. And so you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him.

Once you found out and continued to meet up with him, he changed. He stopped treating you like his girlfriend and more like his personal toy. He’d stopped leveling what you too had and made sure you knew it was ‘just sex.’

It’s rare that he comes over your place, occasionally when he’s drunk and the only thing on his mind is you so he tells to uber your address instead of his. And when he does show up, it’s always unannounced and in the middle of the night. His apartment became the center of all your activities. That’s how he liked it. He enjoyed having the upper hand and the home base advantage. For Yeonjun, everything was about power and control. Especially when it came to you.

When he gets into an argument he doesn’t have full control over the situation, so he calls you. He knows he’ll always hold the power with you to the point where he’ll rely on you whenever anything doesn’t go his way.

And so now whenever he gets into a huge fight with her, he drinks himself half to death and calls you up. And you always go back to him.

And no matter how much you think you love him, he’ll always love her more.

“Ok,” you reply softly.

—————

You’ve only barely walked through the door when your body is already pressed against the wall. His lips are on your neck and he sure to leave dark marks along your skin.

Yeonjun loves marking you, however you’ve never been able to do the same to him. He manhandled you, rough hands groping and squeezing your body.

“Missed you,” he mumbles against your skin. “Knew you’d come back to me. You always come back.”

Your heart tightens at his words. You really were pathetic, going back to a taken man who didn’t love you.

He pressed his lips against your hungrily, the taste of alcohol lingers on his tongue. He’s eager, tongue fight against yours as his fingers trace your thighs.

“Jump,” he mumbles against your lips.

You do so, allowing yourself to wrap your legs around his torso and have him carry you. He walks you to their bedroom, dropping your body down on the bed. His body hovers over yours and and begins to strip you of your nightclothes.

He runs his fingers over your naked body as he strokes himself in his shorts. You shiver at the touch of his cold fingers brushing over your nipples. When he reaches your heat, he smirks at how wet you were for him.

His discards his own clothes before aligning himself with your entrance. You don’t even have time to tell him to put on a condom before he’s already harshly thrusting into you.

Your eyes roll back and you feel heat rush through every inch of your body. Your back arches and you moan his name out loud. His hips meet yours with powerful thrusts, his cock plummeting itself deep inside your walls.

He feels so fucking good.

You squeeze your eyes shut, basking in the pleasure. His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it lightly. The pressure causes his name to get stuck in your throat, restricting you from moaning out loud.

You feel so tight around him, your warmth enveloping and tightening around his cock. He leans over, pushing himself deeper into you and presses his plump lips on your ear.

You hear his soft grunts and moans now due to the proximity. His movements don’t stop, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room with each movement.

You can feel your orgasms quickly approaching. Your moans come out stifled due to the pressure his hand inflicts on your throat.

“Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Cum.”

And you do. You let go, allowed your orgasm to ripple through you. Your body spams uncontrollably and you throb against him. He watches you with satisfaction as you come down from your high.

He releases his grip on your throat, but doesn’t haul this thrusts. He continues to fuck you, but you know he’s not far from his orgasm.

“Fuck,” he moans in your ear.

He pounds into you, and having released his grip on your throat he can hear you again. Your voice is shaky but you don’t stop crying out in pleasure.

“Ah shit,” he hisses. You feel him reach his hand down, pulling his length out of you. He doesn’t move positions, rather he strokes himself against you until he cums on your lower belly.

“Fuuuuuck. So good, so-so good,” he rambles. “So good to me. Fucking love this, love you.”

You feel him release onto you. He breathes heavily into your ear as he comes down from his high.There’s a few moments of silence before he rolls off of you and walks into the bathroom.

He doesn’t say a word, nor does he bother to help clean you up. You sigh, hearing the water turn on. You grab a tissue wiping the sticky substance off of you.

His words cloud your thoughts. You know he didn’t mean it, but he told you he loves you. You know he’s drunk and he said it as he was finishing, which mean he was just saying words with no meaning, but it made your heart flutter. Regardless of whether or not he meant it, he said it. Has to count for something right?

You throw away the tissue and start to get dressed slowly. His words keep replaying in your head. It wasn’t even an full ‘I love you.’ You know he didn’t mean it, but your heart and your head are choosing to believe two different things.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been sitting there until he comes back into the room as you’re blaming your shirt back over your head. His hair is dripping wet and he has a towel around his waist.

“You’re still here?” he asks.

Ouch.

“Sorry, got distracted by my phone,” you mumble a lie.

He rolls his eyes and begins dressing himself as well, not bothering to cover up his top half. “I know I said she’s not gonna be back until tomorrow but that wasn’t an invitation for a sleepover. You should know better.”

You feel a loud pang in your chest.

“I-I know,” you stutter. “I said-”

“Sorry? Yeah I know. But I don’t want you thinking this is something it’s not,” he scoffs. “I know you think that you’re like in love with me or something. But you and I are never gonna happen. I’m just giving you a reality check.”

You feel your face heating up in embarrassment. You didn’t even do anything.

“Sorry,” you whisper before grabbing your phone and leaving his apartment.

You felt so stupid. You figure he probably realized what he said to you and got defensive. You’ve never directly admitted your feelings for him, but you had hinted at wanting more in the past. I guess it wasn’t difficult for him to figure it out.

The worst part wasn’t even how much his words hurt you. It was the fact that even after that, you knew you’d still go back to him.

——————————————————————————

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[miekasa]

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

+ genres: rich kid au, college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, light-ish angst, smut/nsfw content (everybody gets a piece)!

+ warnings: mentions of depression/anxiety, mentions and use of drugs and alcohol, some of the smut happens under the influence so be cautious if that’s something you don’t like, i swear this is all more idiots in love than angst tho i just wanna disclose everything fairly

+ notes: this is alternatively titled super rich kids and you can probably figure out why. some of this is based off of real life, some of it is straight out of gossip girl and i challenge you to separate the facts from the fiction :’) anyways, i hope we all remember the lyrics to in my feelings

+ more notes: one quick reference for ages in this fic—all the vets are older but not by that much, think various stages of grad school. armin, connie, sasha, annie, and bertholdt are all college sophomores. eren, the reader, and pretty much everybody else are college seniors, so they’re about a year or two older. also here is a playlist for your reading pleasures, shoutout to ryn for letting me mooch of their spotify account :’)

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

+ summary: fuck you, fuck you, you’re cool, fuck you.; or the story of notorious rich kid and self-proclaimed bad boy eren yeager, and his not so goody two-shoes best friend.

“So you’re saying that you don’t love me? That you’re not riding? That you’ll actually leave from beside me?”

“I’m saying that it’s ass o’clock in the morning and I’m not driving in the rain to Brooklyn to pick your sorry ass up.”

“But… but I want you, and I need you, and I’m down for you.”

You check the time on your phone screen and groan. 3:57am. Far too early to be dealing with the likes of Eren Jaeger. “Just get an Uber or something. I don’t know what you and your idiot friends were up to this time, but I don’t want any part of it.”

“First, they’re our idiot friends. Second, I don’t think they let you take Ubers from jail, and even if they did, it’s, like, four in the morning, so I don’t think there are any Ubers driving around, so could you pretty please come pick me up? I promise I’ll make it up to—”

“From where?” you cut him off, slowly sitting upright in your bed. You hold your phone closer to your ear, ready to listen again; because, certainly, you must have misheard him the first time. You wait, but the line is silent, save for Eren’s awkward chuckling. “Eren Asher Jaeger, tell me that that was another stupid lyric from that stupid song, and that you are not in prison right now.”

Eren makes a sad attempt at laughing. “Technically, it’s a holding cell, not really prison… and I would leave, but they suspended my license for a month, and Min can’t drive yet, so we kind of need you,” he explains, “Uh, no pun intended.”

“Min?” you pull your eyebrows together at the mention of the younger’s name, “Is Armin with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

With a frown and a heavy sigh, you push yourself out of bed, wedging your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you grab the nearest pair of sweatpants.

“Why did you get him caught up in whatever stupid shit you were doing tonight?” you complain, scanning your dark bedroom for a shirt to wear, “Erwin’s going to castrate you when he finds out.”

You curse as you stub your toe against the edge of your bed on your way out of the room. Given the time, weather, and the fact that you have several exams to start studying for, hanging up and leaving Eren in the middle of god knows where Brooklyn doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, but you couldn’t go back to sleep knowing that Armin would have to suffer with him.

“Relax,” Eren breathes in a tone all too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “He didn’t get charged with anything, and nothing’s going on his record.”

“You don’t know that,” you retort, sliding your raincoat over your free arm, as you paddle down the stairs of your apartment, “The NYPD suck.”

“True,” he hums, “But I paid off the cop, so it’ll be fine.”

You pause in your steps, but really, you shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course you did,” you mumble, moving again and grabbing your car keys off of the kitchen island.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. His tone is actually genuine and it tempts you to roll your eyes.

“What it always means, Eren,” you sigh, stepping into the elevator, “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

He doesn’t have time to throw in another pitiful “I love you” before the line goes dead and he’s met with static silence. He hangs up the station telephone with a silent chuckle, turning around to face Armin and Officer Hannes.

“Someone’s coming to pick us up,” he says, trying to focus on Armin’s sigh of relief and not the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, “I’ll, uh, call a tow for the car in the morning.”

The cop, too tired to care, only shrugs, and pays them no further attention. He hands Eren a plastic bag with his car keys and newly suspended license, escorts him back into the cell, and returns to his desk. Eren gives Hannes the finger while his back is turned.

Beside him, Armin is still quivering; bouncing his leg up and down, fiddling with his fingers, gnawing on his bottom lip. Eren frowns, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him as he takes in the younger’s anxiety ridden state. It wasn’t fair that Armin could have potentially suffered legal consequences because of his stupidity.

Eren’s lucky that Hannes was sleazy enough to accept his bribe and let him off with minimal punishment. With that they were doing, things could have ended up far worse for the both of them tonight.

“I’m sorry, man,” he apologizes, hands stuffed in his front pockets, “About tonight, I mean. We—I shouldn’t have done that, not with you there.”

Armin looks up at him with sparkling, doe eyes and Eren wants to punch himself in the gut for making him go through all of this, even if it didn’t amount to an actual arrest. “You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.”

“I could have prevented it,” he says. Because it’s what you would have said, too.

“It’s not your fault, I wanted to come, remember?” Armin tells him, redirecting his gaze to the grey floor of the precinct cell. He takes a deep breath, almost calming down completely when a sudden thought reignites his nervous ticks, “You… they’re not gonna tell my parents, right?”

“No, no—of course not.”

Armin was legally an adult; he, nor Eren, nor the police had to tell his parents anything. Sure, Hannes could rat them out, but honestly that sounded like way more work than he was cut out for; not to mention he’d be bound to reveal that he let them off easy for a couple thousand bucks.

Armin nods, “And… that wasn’t Erwin on the phone, right?”

“Are you kidding me? He’d murder me on the spot,” Eren says. He pauses before tacking on, “I, uh… I called (_____).”

“Oh,” the younger gapes, “She’ll kill you, too.”

“Yeah,” Eren sighs, scratching the back of his neck in nervous anticipation, “Trust me, I know.”

“You have your access card on you, right, Armin?” you ask. He nods sheepishly, hand on the car door handle.

“Thanks again for coming to get us,” he says meekly, “I’m sorry about waking you up and everything.”

You offer him a warm smile through the rear view mirror, “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re safe. Text me when you get up tomorrow, okay? We can get brunch, my treat.”

His face lights up at the prospect of free food, and he nods once more, enthusiastically, but his expression falls again when he speaks, “Okay, and I’ll, um, pay you back for the tickets and stuff as soon as I can—”

“It’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” you repeat.

“It was almost three thou—”

“You forget who you’re friends with,” you cut him off with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

Armin’s eyes dart to Eren quickly, before clearing his throat, a light pink tint to his cheeks. You know that the prospect of money can be a sensitive subject for Armin, one easily triggered by his very environment, but this wasn’t negotiable on your end. You know that Armin doesn’t like the feeling of owing anyone anything, but he knows he won’t get you to budge; so, he quietly nods, appreciative of your generosity, before bidding you and Eren a final goodnight and sprinting towards the dorm. Once you see that he’s safely inside, you wave one last time, and wait for the door to shut behind him.

Slowly, Eren turns to the driver’s seat to look at you. You were eerily calm when you came to pick him and Armin up from the station. You didn’t yell, cuss, or punch him in the face like he expected. You politely talked to the officer, thanked him for his service, paid their fees, and up until now, you’ve shown no signs of being angry with him at all.

The two of you drive back to your shared apartment in complete silence, Eren too confused, and borderline scared, of initiating a conversation. He wonders if you’re too tired, or if you really don’t give a damn anymore, but when you pull into the underground lot of your building and put the car in park, he finds out the silence was simply the calm before the storm.

You take your hand off of the gear shift and turn towards him. It’s a quiet stare down for nearly a full minute before you break the mime act with a slap to his thigh.

“Drag racing? Are you out of your fucking mind? Of all the stupid shit you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot of stupid shit—this has got to take the cake. Just what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“Ouch!” he inhales sharply, rubbing over where you’d hit him, “We were just having fun! Then these other guys showed up and started talking shit so—”

“Having fun?” you echo, “You couldn’t think of anything fun to do that’s not illegal in every borough of New York City?”

Eren feels his cheek flush, but he only huffs with the illusion of disinterest, “I don’t know why you’re freaking out so bad. I’m a good driver, it was those other squids that got us into shit, I’m telling you. They showed up looking for a fight, then ran like a bunch of pussies when the cops came.”

You exhale slowly, shaking your head in disbelief. You seem to have no other words to say to him, choosing to step out of the car and slam the door behind you. Eren quickly follows, slamming his door equally as hard, and hot on your trail as you march towards the elevator.

“(_____), come on, enough with the silent treatment,” he whines when you stick yourself in a corner of the elevator after pushing the button to the penthouse, “I told you I didn’t start shit, Armin and I got ratted on.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether or not they started it, Eren. You’re still the problem here.”

“Me? How am I the problem?” he pulls back, eyebrows drawn together in genuine confusion, “I just told you I didn’t do shit.”

You scoff, crossing your arms and shifting your left leg, “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“Doing what with me?” he presses, tone growing icy.

“This, Eren!” you reiterate, “I’m too tired to hear your bullshit right now.”

The elevator dings and opens into your apartment. You push past him, continuing your deliberate strides through the living area, and to the stairs, but Eren catches you with a hand on your wrist before you can go any further.

“Will you fucking stop that,” he growls, “If you’ve got something to say, then stop running away from me, and just say it.”

“Funny,” you sneer, pulling your wrist away from him and settling both your feet on the bottom step, “You’re one to talk about running away from things.”

He takes a step back, standing just a notch below you, perfectly frozen in place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your little drag racing episode was not only dangerous and immature, it was you running away from your problems like a spoiled child, yet again.”

Eren’s features narrow at your accusations; eyes fading into hooded slits, lips curving downwards, and voice bobbing low, “I’m not running away from anything.”

“Oh, please, Eren,” you roll your eyes, arms retreating to their crossed position in front of your chest, “Cut the bullshit.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” But he bets that even in the dim lighting of the apartment, you can see the tips of his ears growing red, just like they always do when he’s lying.

“Oh, really?” you ask, eyes widening in mock surprise, “You don’t think I don’t know this whole thing has something to do with the fact that your mom came home on Friday?”

Another pause. “Who told you that?” He asks, but it comes out more like a statement.

“Nobody had to,” you snap, “Jean said he caught you with a sack of coke over the weekend, and I knew something was up.”

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

“I said cut the shit, Eren. If I went up into your room right now I bet your ass I’d find more than enough of it in a shoebox somewhere.”

He retreats, almost bashful, but unapologetic all the same. “Fine, whatever, I did a few lines. Big deal.”

“The big deal is that you think this is fucking normal, and now you’ve upgraded from coke to getting yourself arrested! It’d be one thing if you were acting like a misfit on your own, but to drag Armin into it because you—”

“Drag him into it?” he echoes with the snare of sarcasm dripping from each syllable, “You talk about Armin like he’s six. I don’t know why you think he’s some helpless little baby, but you have no goddamn responsibility over him. He’s not your fucking charity case.”

“I never fucking said he’s my charity case—don’t you ever fucking say that,” you say, “Having some basic respect and concern for my friends isn’t charity.”

“Wake the fuck up! You baby Armin when he’s a grown ass man. I didn’t force him into the fucking car to get sympathy points from you.”

“Grown? Armin is barely nineteen, disowned by his parents, is on a full fucking ride to an insanely expensive university, and you got him arrested tonight! Do you know what could happen if NYU found out? They could fucking kick him out, take his scholarship away—and then what, huh? Or were you just gonna buy off the headmaster, too?”

“You’re acting like I fucking planned for it!”

He’s screaming now, voice bellowing throughout the apartment, face red—and he doesn’t mean to, he doesn’t mean it at all; but it’s late, and he’s tired, and those shouldn’t be excuses, but he’s too prideful to back down.

“Of course you didn’t! You didn’t plan for anything, you were just being a reckless, irresponsible asshole like always,” you tell him, too blind-sighted by anger and the need to chide him that you miss the teary undertones in his words.

“And what’s it matter to you?”

“It fucking matters to me when you call at some godforsaken hour asking me to pick you up from prison!”

He takes a step forward, right leg elevated by the same step that both your feet rest on. “Well, what else am I supposed to fucking do!” He shouts even though he’s mere inches from your face, “Tell me just what the fuck I’m supposed to do instead!”

“You’re supposed to act like an adult and fucking talk to someone!”

“Who the hell am I supposed to talk to, huh?” he presses, taking a step forward and forcing you to retreat backwards, and up a step, “My mother who’s never home or her bastard boyfriend?”—another step forward for him, another step backwards for you—“The step-brother I can’t get in contact with?”—one step forward; one step backwards—“Or maybe the dad I never had, right?”

“Me, Eren!” you yell back with equal vigor, throwing your hands up at your sides, and planting your feet firmly. “Armin, Mikasa, Jean—anyone! You have people who fucking care about you! Stop treating us like correction officers, we’re your fucking friends!”

There’s silence for a while, just you and Eren staring at each other, heavy breathing, waiting for the other to make the next move. He opens his mouth, but when he tries to speak, his resolve washes away, his throat tightens and the words get sucked back in.

It would be easy to keep yelling, screaming, blaming you for blowing up on him. He used to think the scolding he got from you after pulling some stupid stunt was the worst part; but now, he thinks it might be his favorite part. He hates to hear you scream, and it hurts to see you cry, but if you’re yelling, you’re angry that he hurt himself; you care that he’s okay.

“I—” he stutters, words quiet and broken, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to get like this tonight, it was an accident I—”

“You never mean for any of it to happen, yet it always does,” you interrupt, voice soft yet strained, “I know you have your own shit to deal with, but so does everybody else.”

“(_____), please, you’re right, okay? I should have said something before,” he admits, mouth small as he voices his confessions, “I should have talked to you or one of the boys, but I—I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

He’s groveling now. Mouth in pout, eyes wide, voice small, and honestly, he thinks he might cry. At this point he doesn’t care if he does.

“I want you to mean it,” you finally say, and when he looks up, he hates the look he sees in your eyes. It’s something between sad and hurt and empty and it’s awful. Someone like you shouldn’t feel that way. He shouldn’t make you feel that way.

“I—”

“When you’re ready to tell me exactly what’s going on with you—what’s happening that made you think going to jail would be better than facing your issues—I’ll be here to talk,” you continue, eyes watering, “But until then, goodnight, Eren.”

Eren winces when you turn around and ascend up the remaining stairs. He flirts with the idea of following you, going to your room to finish talking, but you’re probably angry enough to have it locked. His room is up there, too, but he opts for part of the sectional, laying down with the palms of his hands kneading against his closed eyelids.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been there for him. Your friendship, at times, was like a game of tag—Eren always on the run with you loyally chasing after him; he’d always run amuck, and you’d always be there to catch him in the act. Now, it’s five in the morning, there’s no more yelling, no more chasing, no more racing, but he’s still running.

The following morning, you take Armin out to brunch, as promised. Jean tags along too, something about hanging out with the two of you being infinitely more entertaining than his genetics lecture. It doesn’t seem like Jean knows anything about Armin and Eren’s late night antics, so you don’t bring it up yourself.

Oblivious, Jean chats your ears off as if nothing is awry. Whether he knows it or not, he does a great job of distracting Armin from his own thoughts. They both eat to their heart’s content when you remind them you’ll foot the bill; and you don’t bat an eye when Jean convinces Armin to order his third round of pancakes. He deserves it.

Afterwards, Jean convinces the three of you to go window shopping with him in SoHo, claiming that he needed inspiration for his latest fashion assignment (you don’t question why he’s taking a fashion class as a biology major, but you suspect it has something to do with Mikasa). Window shopping soon turns into actual shopping, so almost completely unprompted, and with little effort on his part, Armin gets a few pieces of clothing on your behalf, while you try to ignore Eren’s words itching at the back of your mind.

Armin’s not a baby, but he certainly is a kid with a rough past and rough relationship with his parents at a time in his life where he arguably needs them the most. A little extra support from his friends wouldn’t harm him.

It’s nearing six when the three of you are wedged in a small booth inside a café, indulging in overpriced hot chocolate. Three sips into his second cup, Jean excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you sitting across from Armin.

“You know, you don’t have to keep buying me stuff to make up for Eren,” Armin says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I’m not trying to make up for him,” you sputter, careful not to spill your drink over your lap, “You had a rough night. Just accept my gifts, don’t be a brat.”

“I do accept them. Erwin’s been eyeing that Off White sweater for, like, three weeks now. He’s gonna have a hissy fit when he sees me wearing it.” You chuckle, and he continues, “But you know, as much I love spending time with you, you can’t use me to avoid Eren forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

“You said you were going to take us to brunch, and then spent the whole day with us.”

“Funny, I recall you saying something about how much you love my company about thirty seconds ago.”

“He’s called you at least ten times today.”

“I was spending the day with my favorite NYU student… and Jean,” you bat your lashes, “I see you maybe once a week. I live with Eren, I have to see him every day.”

Armin calls your name with a pout, “He’s sorry, you know.”

“Not sorry enough,” you mumble. Armin opens his mouth to say something again, but then Jean’s sliding back into the booth, chatting about how he’s finally come up with the perfect anniversary date for Mikasa.

Armin doesn’t notice your sigh of relief, but he does take note of the way you wipe away your notifications when a text rings through. If Eren could spend his days running away from his problems, then you could, too.

Despite being arguably the greediest of you all, Jean loves company, so he doesn’t hesitate to say yes when you ask to crash at his place after your shopping escapades. You expect to be welcomed with sounds of screaming, laughter, and loud music, but to your surprise his apartment is completely silent upon your entering.

“Bertholdt has class and Marco has a meeting,” he prompts, as if he could read your thoughts. He shimmies his coat off his shoulders and tosses it over the bar in the foyer.

Their apartment has the same amount of rooms as yours and Eren’s, but is all stretched along a single floor. It’s more of a maze, really, with intricate turns, and hallways, that all more or less open up into the expanse of the foyer and bar. Their living room is your favorite part. A dark, brown leather sectional wraps around the back three walls and an oversized flatscreen encased in an ebony frame takes center stage. A collection of vinyl records litters the walls above the couch; each of the boys contributing their favorite discs as décor.

“If he has class, shouldn’t you have class?” you question, fingers dragging over the ridges of the closest record.

“I’ve had class all day, but that doesn’t mean I go,” Jean shrugs, walking up behind you and taking your jacket off your shoulders and your bag from your hand, “Besides, Bertholdt will probably cut half-way to go see Reiner, if he can even stay awake that long. Going with him is just as productive as staying home.”

“You’re all a mess,” you scoff, turning around as a cheesy grin grows on Jean’s lips. His smile is infectious, and soon you catch yourself grinning just because.

“You want something to drink?” he offers, throwing your coat over his elbow and tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

“You’re bad at mixing drinks,” you remind him, but follow him anyway.  

Jean laughs, not bothering to deny the jab. He doesn’t try his hand at anything mixed or complicated this time; simply offering you a glass of your favorite red, and pouring himself a smaller amount.

He puts the album you were gawking at earlier on the record player, the two of you sinking into the couch as lovely melodies radiate throughout the apartment.

He spends the first hour bitching about how Marco’s supposed to become a CEO in less than a year, yet has the attention span of a squirrel; but the playful lilt in the brunette’s voice, and the begrudging smile on his face lets you know that it’s all love. He gushes about Mikasa for a good half hour, cramming you with stories about his girlfriend’s talent for sewing and fashion. You also learn that Bertholdt’s been busier than usual these days, and Jean suspects it has something to do with a secret lover.

You pinch your eyebrows at his hunch. Bertholdt’s never been one for dating. He’s had many friends with benefits in the past, but they weren’t relationships, nor were they secrets. In fact, you don’t think that he could keep a secret to save his life.

“Why would he be hiding it if he were seeing someone?” you question, swirling your newly refilled glass.

“Dunno,” Jean shrugs, “But it’s sus, I’m telling you. He’s been oddly busy for someone with a 2.3 GPA. Either way, I’ll pry it out of him eventually.”

“You’re so fucking nosey,” you chuckle, watching the mischievous, satisfied grin settle onto his features.

“I kinda think it’s Armin,” Jean says after a while, downing the remaining wine in his cup, while you choke on your own drink.

“Why on Earth do you think if Bertholdt had a secret lover that it’d be Armin?”

“Because he was in love with him for, like, two years in high school,” Jean says, as if the information should be painfully obvious.

“Yeah, and Bert also hooked up with a million different people in high school.”

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t still in love with Armin.”

“I don’t think Armin’s kissed another human, let alone is in a secret relationship with one.”

“Hm, true. I forget he’s still a virgin.”

“Hey—there’s nothing wrong with Armin being a virgin, leave him be.”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with it,” Jean whines, “But it’s so—he doesn’t have to be. Armin’s cute! And very attractive—dare I even say sexy. He could go outside and get laid right now if he just tried.”

“Stay humble, Jean boy. If I remember correctly, you only started breaking hearts a year ago,” you tut. Jean’s nose goes pink as he shoves you away when you continue, “But, if you’re so concerned with Armin’s virginity, why don’t you go help him out with it.”

“Actually, if I remember correctly, I think that’s more your gig,” he shoots back, a smug smile tugging on his lips. “Not to mention, I’m not trying to get beat up by Annie. Though, I wonder how much longer it’ll take before she finally snaps. Hey, maybe the both of you can tag team him, I’m sure Annie wouldn’t mind, and it might even make Armin less nervous to have you—”

It’s your turn to shove him now, throwing in an extra punch when his head bobs back with laughter. You’re very certain Annie would mind; you would mind if someone inserted themself in your kind of, sort of, not really relationship, and ruined your four years of pining.

“Speaking of lovers,” Jean prompts, once his laughter dies down, bending his knee and turning closer to you. “Why are you and lover boy fighting? Trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum, sipping your drink in between words. Jean’s eyes pinch together. “Marco and I would never fight.”

“My god, will you let your Marco fantasies go already? You’ve already caused him one sexuality crisis,” Jean groans, “You know I mean Eren.”

You sigh, lowering your glass and reaching forward to pinch his cheek. “It’s nothing you have to worry your pretty little head over.”

“Please,” he scoffs, flicking your offending hand back, “He’s been texting us nonstop since this morning at, like, nine. I didn’t even know he was capable of waking up before noon.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but Jean continues, “Why he would ask us for advice on you is beyond me. He knows you better than all of us combined.”

“And why you’re saying all of this is beyond me.”

“Oh, come on, what’d he do,” Jean pushes, borderline whines, as he puts his empty glass down in a cup holder embedded in the couch. He’s always been the most prone to gossip, but you forget that wine makes him even more of a nosey prick. “Must have been pretty bad. Or stupid.”

“Try both,” you mumble, “Well—I don’t know, it wasn’t… the worst thing anyone could do, but it was really fucking reckless—and why he did it, I couldn’t even tell you. I don’t know what goes through his mind half the time, but I swear he must have been on crack last night.”

“He probably was. On crack, I mean. I told you, I took an ounce from him over the weekend, but that was after Eren and Ymir did, like, five lines.”

“Do they really do that regularly?” you nearly cry, a hand massaging your temple, “Fucking Christ, if he really was high while driving, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Well, I don’t know if regular is the right word,” Jean ponders, “Maybe for Ymir, but god knows what she’s on half the time, anyways. Besides, coke isn’t the worst thing they could do.”

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, pausing when you shoot him a disapproving look, “Oh, come on! You’re no angel, either—if memory serves, you were high as shit at Moblit’s birthday party, and kept singing the star spangled banner all night.”

“Yeah, on weed! One time! It was on a rooftop and the stars were out and it has the same rhythm as the happy birthday song, cut me some slack!”

He finds laughing at your expense to be much more fun, however, as he continues to chuckle while you throw a fit. He’s also not one to let a topic of gossip go undiscussed, and has no problem bringing the conversation back to Eren.

“It’s because you two don’t talk, you know,” Jean tuts, “That’s why you fight like this.”

For the second time, the younger’s words have your eyebrows growing close together. “I mean, I guess—but it’s more than that. Eren and I live together, we obviously talk, but—”

“I know, I know, but just hear me out, okay? You and Eren talk about a lot of things, yeah, but you also… don’t. And sometimes you don’t have to, because you guys, like… get each other.”

“Wow. What a way with words you have, Jean Kirstein. You should write a self-help book.”

“What I mean,” he sneers, unhappy with the sarcasm being thrown his way, “Is that you guys understand each other in weird ways. It’s actually kind of cute—sometimes a little freaky, in all honesty. It’s why you don’t always have to talk about serious things. But you take it for granted and let shit bottle up, and then get in denial about it until you blow up in each other’s faces.”

“Please, you barely passed one philosophy class and now you think you’re Plato.”

“You’re doing the in denial thing right now!” he taunts, “Come one, when you two fight like this, what’s it usually about?”

You sigh, sinking back into the plush leather of the couch, and wrapping your hands around a fluffy throw pillow. Thinking about arguing with Eren isn’t particularly something you like to do, and truthfully, you don’t really get pissed at each other that often. Not to the point of ignoring each other, at least.

“I don’t know,” you drawl, “Drugs, me forgetting things, him doing stupid shit, him thinking Mikasa could do better than you, school, drinking, the fact that he leaves his big ass shoes at the top of the stairs for me to trip over and fall to my death every morning, when—”

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

“I—we don’t really… it’s not so much fighting over his parents, it’s all the stuff he does to deal with his parents. He never gives his mom’s boyfriends a chance, and he never really talks about why, either. I know he’s secretly just angry and insecure about his dad, but… I don’t know. That doesn’t really make it better.”

“True,” he nods, “See—he doesn’t talk about it.”

“I know, and I told him that last night, too, but… it’s a sensitive subject for him—his dad, I mean,” you sigh, “And you’re right, he shouldn’t bottle his feelings up, but, on the other hand he’s watched his mom get married five times. I don’t always blame him for not wanting to talk about it.”

“Yeah, but just because it’s hard to talk about doesn’t mean he shouldn’t,” Jean lolls, “Wouldn’t you have rather he said something than have done whatever stupid shit he did to make you want to sleep here tonight?”

“Okay, Socrates, I get it,” you lighten up, “I’ll talk to him—or get him to talk to me. Are you happy?”

“Quite,” he says, annoyingly chipper as he rises from the couch. “I hate seeing my favorite power couple fighting.”

Jean knows his words would elicit a slap to his arm, so he takes off just before you can reach him, prompting you to chase him out of the living room and down the hall. The brunette cackles ridiculously loudly as you scream his name with profanities sprinkled in-between. You catch a hold of the bottom of his shirt and pull him back, finally flicking him on the forehead.

He accepts his punishment with pride, offering you a signature smile in return while you both catch your breaths. It’s a sweet moment, the two of you looking at each other with stupid smiles on your face, exhalations tickling your cheeks.

Jean’s eyes break the gaze first, as he looks down the remainder of your face, and back up to your eyes again. His words could get caught in his throat, but he doesn’t let them—he shakes his head, and swiftly turns around, beckoning for you to follow him.

“Come on, we can steal Marco’s clothes for your pajamas this time.”

Jean spends all of three minutes pulling apart Marco’s dresser before swiping a t-shirt and Christmas themed pajama bottoms from his room. He tosses them in your direction before leading you back down the hall and to the left, opening the door to the guest bedroom for you, before leaving you to change.

They have more than one guest bedroom, but this one is unofficially yours. Little pieces of you can be found littered throughout the room, from spare jewelry to mismatched makeup. You spot a single, gold, teardrop shaped earring on the vanity and sigh as you run your fingers over it.

You swear you’d lost it a few months ago. Trust Jean to put it away for safekeeping without telling you he’d found it. The boy in question returns moments later, knocking while walking through the door with your purse in hand.

“How’d you know I was about to ask you to get that?” you question, a smile on your face as you retrieve the small bag from his hands.

Jean offers you a cocky grin, “Cause I’m the best.”

“Don’t go getting a big head, now,” you tease, “Or, well, an even bigger head.”

Jean ignores your insult, as you take a seat at the edge of the bed, fishing through your bag for your phone to plug it in for the night. He’s about to turn around and bid you goodnight, when the flash of something orange peeping out of your purse prompts his next thought.

“Hey, you picked up your refill, right?” he asks innocently, “It should have been ready last Thursday.”

You sigh, head falling slightly when you close your bag and place it on the vanity. “Uh… no.”

Jean’s mouth is already open, ready with equally friendly and scolding words, but you cut him off before he can talk. “I was going to on Thursday, but I had class late, and then I forgot on Friday and I haven’t really had time since then. But I have a few left-overs from the last two months, so I’ve been taking those!”

Jean’s mouth closes, but his eyes narrow as he begins to walk towards you. You know he’s putting two and two together, so you speak ahead of him again.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t have any left over, but it’s only five, I promise! I’ve been really good, lately.”

Jean’s eyes remain in concentrated slits, but his resolve is waning when he reads over your expression. His facade fades as he takes the final steps towards you to stand directly in front of your body.

“Okay,” he says, voice soft through his smile, “I’ll go with you to pick them up tomorrow before I drop you home, yeah?”

It elates him more than it should to see the smile you flash his way. Unfortunately, it’s short-lived, as his next question leaves your face twisted with guilt.

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

You consider lying and saying yes, but something tells you Jean won’t buy it. Your silence seems to speak loud enough, as his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh.

“I want to, I just… well I’m mad at him right now, and even when I’m not… I don’t know why it’s so hard,” you confess.

“He’d wanna know, you know,” Jean says, and it’s not the first time he’s said it to you, either. “You know he wouldn’t judge you or anything.”

“I know that. But, truthfully, if I had things my way, not even you would know, Jean.”

It was an accident that Jean found out that you’d been taking anxiety medication.

It was at somebody’s house party where the majority of your friends and their guests had gotten piss drunk. Reiner’s date had suggested mixing their alcohol with molly she’d supposedly had in her bag. In her drunken stupor, she’d mistaken your purse for her own, but luckily, a not so drunk Jean had noticed the label didn’t match her name, and snagged the bottle before the worst could happen.

They ended up not finding her molly, anyway, but it’s a moot point. Jean had cornered you about the bottle later in the week with honest intentions; he’d been concerned that might be another kind of drug disguised by a prescription veil. However, you’d assured him that it was indeed your prescribed Lexapro, and not a shady mixture of black market substances.

And, he’d been more than understanding in the aftermath. Quite frankly, he had somewhat made it his business to ensure that you got and took your medication on time and felt comfortable getting to and from your therapy appointments.

It’s endearing in a way that made you pause and count your blessings sometimes. Jean had been nothing but unequivocally supportive in his understanding about anxiety and had gone the extra mile to comfort you where need be. It made you wonder why you hesitated to tell Eren on several occasions.

It was probably the very nature of anxiety itself that had you doubting your trust in Eren. You wanted to tell him—of course you did—but, you couldn’t. You know that Eren would do everything in his power to make it better, even if that was just being. You know that he’d want to know and he’d kill to understand. But you couldn’t possibly burden him with your problems, not when he has a million of his own.

The one person in the world you wanted to tell, you were terrified of talking to. And you know it’s irrational to be afraid of him, but you can’t seem to control those thoughts. It’s a tiring, consuming, endless cycle.

Jean watches the way your gaze lowers to the floor. He knows exactly what you’re thinking, and, god, he swears if he could take that train of thought away from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

With a heavy heart and tired eyes, he takes a final step forward and wraps his arms around your body. He counts three, four seconds before you hug him back. He raises a hand to the back to your head, cradling your face into his shoulder and squeezing you tightly.

“Hey, I’m proud of you, you know that,” he speaks, just a notch above a whisper, “I know you’ll tell him when you’re ready.”

“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his shirt. You hug him back a little tighter and close your eyes, “Thank you, Jean.”

And Jean holds on, and hopes you know that he wouldn’t let you go, “You’re welcome, (_____).”

You come home to find your entire apartment littered with flowers; in the hallway, on the sectional, atop the counter, up the stairs.

There are several boxes of your favorite macarons stacked in a small pyramid on the kitchen island, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you checked the labels to find that they were shipped straight from the south of France this morning. There’s too many bottles of Ace on the coffee table, sparkling next to a basket of what looks like your regular skincare products. A pretty, gold bow rests atop an even prettier pair of red-bottomed heels, and if you’re not mistaken, that’s a limited edition, vintage YSL clutch on the sectional, resting against your favorite throw pillow.

You sigh, making your way to the couch to pick up the orange envelope sticking out of the handbag. Just as you’re about to open it, you hear footsteps, and a voice that follows.

“You’re back,” Eren chirps from mid-way on the staircase, “I, uh, there’s catering coming from Butter coming soon. I know it’s your favorite,” he continues as he descends the stairs.

He has his hand on the back of his neck and there’s a faint, pink tint to his cheeks as he slowly makes his way towards you. You cross your arms, looking him up and down when he stands in front of you.

He’s wearing dark jeans and a tweed sweater with patches at the elbow. His hair is split down the middle, longer than usual, so the ends of sweep over his eyelashes; and there are telltale signs that he’d been toying with it.

“Eren, what is all of this?” you finally ask, shifting your weight to your right leg.

“Part one of my apology and explanation,” he replies, a hopeful timbre to his voice. You roll your eyes, but he continues anyway, “Actually, part two is in that envelope.”

Skeptical, you unfold your arms and open the envelope. You don’t know what you were expecting—a card, maybe tickets to a musical or something; but what you definitely weren’t expecting were two tickets to Paris.

“France?” you look up, tickets in hand, “You don’t get it do you? You can’t just buy all of this shit, jet us off to Europe and expect everything to be okay.”

“No, no it’s not like that—I swear!” he interjects, hands moving sporadically, “It’s just, well… Can we sit? Then I can explain everything.”

Eren looks at you with those big green eyes and that sad pout to his lips, and you find yourself sighing and taking a seat on the couch against your better judgement. There’s a small smile to his lips when you do—a little victory—and he sits next to you, your knees resting against each other as you face him.

He’s shaking, and your resolve to punish him with whatever solid exterior and half-assed silent treatment dissolves as you take his left hand in your right, and recall your conversation with Jean. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me, Eren. You can talk to me.”

When he feels your smaller hand envelop his, the shaking stops, and for a moment, it feels like he can do this, like everything is okay. He smiles, and takes a deep breath.

“The other night, you were right, about my mom and her boyfriend coming home,” he starts, words slow and heavy, “I didn’t even know she was coming—I knew she was visiting this month, but she didn’t tell me when, and I thought it was going to be just her, you know? But then she showed up with him, and, well, I don’t know. I was upset. She’s been home for a week now, and we haven’t even gone to dinner or anything.”

He pauses, and you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “We were supposed to get lunch on Thursday, but she cancelled. Had some meeting or something, I don’t know, I don’t care. Friday comes and she says she wants to have dinner, right?”

You nod, he continues. “I thought it was just going to be us, but he was there. That’s when she told me that… that they’re…” he squeezes his eyes shut, “They’re engaged.”

Your mouth falls into a small o-shape. Everything made perfect sense now.

It’s not that Eren didn’t love his mother, quite the opposite actually. He’s a mama’s boy through and through; she’s his role model, his everything, he adores her. Her career as a designer often takes her on long business trips, most frequently as prolonged stays in Paris, so much so that she relocated her primary office there shortly after Eren graduated high school.

Now, she only visits home for one or two weeks at a time, sometimes only for the weekend. Upon her decision to permanently relocate, she planned to leave Eren under the unofficial supervision of Mikasa. Instead, Eren bought Mikasa her own three-bedroom apartment in Midtown (according to his logic, it was better for her to have her own place than to move in with Jean), and a shared two-story penthouse for the both of you that overlooks Central Park.

Eren misses her more than he cares to admit, but he puts on the same facade every time she comes home because he hates the company she brings.

Paris is where she met her newest boyfriend, Mitchell, and Eren swears he hates that man with every fiber of his being. It’s not saying much, though, not when Eren’s hated every single one of his mother’s past romantic partners, right down to his own father.

“Is… is that why you—”

“Rented a brand new Corvette and went drag racing at one in the morning?” he chuckles, “Yeah. It was stupid, I know, but I was just angry, I guess. I dunno what I was feeling, but it wasn’t good.”

You nod, wrapping both of your hands around his now and offering him a warm smile. He smiles back, just for a moment. “That’s what the tickets are for, actually. The wedding.”

“They’re getting married in France?” you question, to which he nods, “On the first? Isn’t that a little short notice to plan a wedding?”

“I think you’re underestimating the power of Carla Jaeger,” he chuckles, “Apparently, it’s been in the works for a few months now. He proposed with fireworks or some shit. Said she wanted to tell me in person, though.”

“This ticket is for next week,” you say, rereading the dates on the papers. “The wedding is three weeks from now.”

“Well, I kind of figured we could take a little vacation before then,” he grins, “I texted most of the boys earlier, and they can probably come to the wedding, but I want to spend some time with you before it gets hectic, you know? Consider it an end of the semester present.”

Your eyes flicker down to your hand, still wrapped around Eren’s, when he starts to trace circles into your skin, “I thought I just told you, you can’t jet us off to Europe to fix things.”

“You did,” he hums, “And I know I can’t—I’m not trying to, I just… Truthfully, I reserved the plane and the hotel a few weeks back and it really was just going to be a surprise for us—well, more like a gift for you because I know you’ve been busting your ass in chem—but then… everything else happened, and I think a break sounds perfect before I watch my mom get married for the sixth time.”

You watch him continue to toy with your hands for a while, processing your conversation. It was typical of Eren to surprise you like this, so you can’t figure out why this particular present leaves you feeling warmer than usual.

“You sure you don’t need a break from me?”

Eren beams and takes the opportunity to lace your fingers together. “Nah, you’re annoying, but not Jean level annoying.”

You scoff, “I’m telling him you said that.”

“It’ll sound better coming from you, anyway,” he shrugs, “Besides, I might just murder Mitchell if you’re not there with me.”

You chuckle, on the verge of accepting his proposal, but the mention of Jean prompts another thought to cross through your mind. “I’d love to, but I… I don’t know. I don’t want Armin to spend the first few weeks of winter break here all alone.”

This Christmas would mark one year since Armin had seen, or even talked to, any of his immediate family members, with the exception of Erwin.

Last year, you all tried to salvage the damage by sticking around so, at the very least, he didn’t have to feel alone. You and your friends decided that Armin ought to be celebrated, not ostracized for any aspect of himself, so you all chipped in for a cute, impromptu trip to the Catskills so that everyone could be together and close to home.

This year, however, there seemed to be quite a few conflicts of interest. Even if Armin was one of the boys who was planning on attending the wedding, you doubt he had plans leading up to it. You know that Marco, Bertholdt, Mikasa, and Jean had invited him to go to Aspen with them, but Armin declined the offer. Similarly, Connie, Sasha, Annie, Reiner, and Ymir would be off to Dubai as soon as classes ended; an invitation Armin had also turned down.

You weren’t sure what Erwin’s plans were, though you’re certain they involved his own friends in some way or another. At the very least, it was unlikely that he would leave his younger brother completely stranded over the break; but you didn’t want to make plans without knowing Armin wouldn’t be alone.

“He won’t, actually he’ll be closer than you think,” Eren reassures you, “Hange and Moblit wanted to go skiing anyways, so Erwin is taking all of them to the Alps instead of Aspen. Armin doesn’t know yet, but he’s going with them.”

“Shouldn’t Erwin spend his break campaigning, and not skiing? Last I checked, he wasn’t too popular in Queens”

“Ah, you know Erwin,” Eren shrugs, “He has a way of making people devote themselves to him. He’ll win the election with or without campaigning, trust me—the point is, that little baby Armin will be safe and sound under Erwin’s protection, and you don’t have to worry about him.”

“How come you get to call him a baby?”

“Because I’m a hypocritical asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but is hoping you’ll come with me anyway.”

Eren smirks, but there’s a genuine undertone to his words as he moves his fingers to toy with the ring around your pointer finger. The same one he gave to you two Christmases ago. Well, kind of.

The ring he originally gifted you was a Harry Winston piece, with an encrusted band that wrapped into two sunflowers, both made of classic, white diamonds with emeralds sparkling in the center. After seeing the design, and the price tag, you demanded that he take it back, or at the very least, get it sized to fit on your index finger or thumb so that people didn’t get the wrong idea.

Instead, he came back with a simple, silver chain for the original ring to hang from, and the current ring on your finger; a rose gold band with tiny diamonds studded around it. Likely equally as expensive, but more appropriate according to you.

“Fine. But you have to be on your best behavior,” you agree, paying no mind to Eren’s thumb twirling your jewelry, “Do you promise me no drag racing or antics of any sort while we’re there?”

Eren shakes his head at the memory, eyeing the first ring that sits against your chest.

He smiles. “I do.”

The afternoon after your last exam, you bid the remainder of your friends goodbye, grab your bags, and hop on a plane with Eren. It arrives in Paris, but you’re rerouted off to Nice before you can so much as blink at the Eiffel tower; you’d be staying there for the two and half weeks leading up to the wedding, in a small villa.

You had to hand it to him, Eren really outdid himself. It’s dark and nearing three in the morning when you arrive, but even in your sleepy stupor you can admire your accommodations. The villa is secluded, the perfect distance from the water, and decorated lavishly almost to your exact liking. You wouldn’t be surprised if Eren sprung it on you that he’d bought the place, and wasn’t merely renting it for this vacation.

Every day after that, Eren proves he was honest in his intentions of this being a getaway gift to you. He’s planned every activity under the sun—from hot air balloon rides, to helicopter tours, to jet-skiing. The days are certainly fun and filled with beautiful memories, but there’s something special about Nice at sunset; something about the sound of gentle waves brushing up against the beach, and the spotlights carved from sun-cast shadows on the buildings.

It’s just after dinner time, bordering on your eighth night here, when you and Eren are walking along the cobblestone streets that border the beach, the length of your sundress flowing every which way with the breeze, and the tail of Eren’s blazer flailing like a cape behind him.

He looks nice tonight, but, truthfully, he always does. He claimed he hadn’t put on the casual green suit because of your outfit, but you swear he was wearing khakis before he saw your dress. The tips of his ears go red when you tease him about it at dinner, but it doesn’t really matter to you; he would have looked good, regardless. Those suits are made for him, after all; tailored to fit perfectly, and designed by his own mother.

The streets tend to settle down after six, locals and tourists retreating indoors or heading to the beach to relax and draw in the evening. Tonight, however, there’s much more commotion than usual on your route.

“Maybe we should take the long way,” you suggest. On the tips of your toes, you realize that there’s some kind of special event happening in the square, filled with lights and music that grows louder with every step you take.

But the crowd and the lights and the smell of food only piques Eren’s interest. “No way—let’s check it out!”

You don’t have the time to refute before his long legs surpass your own stride, headfirst into the sea of people. You can only follow with a smile and a shake of your head. The soft green of his suit jacket serves as your guide as he navigates through the crowd, but the closer you get to the center, the more people there are.

You can feel palms of your hands growing uncomfortably warm as you become hyperaware of just how many people there are. You clutch the end of your dress in your hand, for both practicality and as a sort of comfort mechanism, as you try your best to calm the anxious wave threatening to crash against you.

With a deep breath, you begin to walk again, unaware of Eren’s actions until you physically walk into his hand, long fingers poking at your belly. You hadn’t realized he stopped walking, or that you’d caught up with him, and your eyebrows crinkle when you look down to see Eren’s left hand extended behind him and towards you, palm facing upwards.

He doesn’t say anything, or look back at you at all. Only wraps his larger fingers around yours when he feels the weight of your hand in his, and continues to guide you through the crowd, his pace slower, and hand firm around yours.

The mass of people becomes more spread out when you approach what appears to be the center of the event; and it looks like a party, maybe a wedding of some sort. There’s food and champagne galore, and more than enough happy guests dancing along to upbeat music in the streets.

Eren’s eyes light up as he takes in the scene, “You wanna dance?”

“What—Eren, no!” you refuse, “We cannot crash these people’s party!”

“Why not?” he counters, without a care in the world, “Seems like an open invitation to me! Come on!”

And for the second time that evening, you find yourself being pulled into his schemes; this time in the direction of the open space dubbed dance floor.

You’re both terrible and ostentatious and people start to watch, but it doesn’t matter because you’re smiling too wide and laughing too hard to care. Eren has a way of moving both with and against the music, forcing your body to follow his lead.

He shouts something over the noise, but you don’t have time to register his words before he laces your right hand with his left, and places his right hand on your waist. There’s a blink of confusion for a moment before you’re being swept off your feet and into a dramatic dip. You don’t have time to secure yourself against his shoulders, but Eren does a fine job of supporting you with a single arm against your back.

From what you can tell the song is far from over and the dramatic pose is completely unwarranted, but you and the crowd alike are victim to his charm. You indulge yourself, looking up at him with eyes too fond to memorize every feature of his face in this moment; the way he’s laughing with that big, dumb, wide smile of his that makes his nose crinkle and his eyes light up.

You’re too busy looking at him to hear Eren’s voice calling out to you, or even realize that he’s moved you from your pose to standing back upright. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at the glazed over look in your eyes.

“Hello? Anybody home up there?” he teases, elongating the vowels and squeezing your waist to alert you.

The reminder of his hands on your hips pulls you back to reality, your eyes fluttering down to his arms, then back to his face. It feels stuffy suddenly, too close to function.

“Yea—yeah! Do you wanna get a drink? Yeah, let’s get a drink!” you exclaim, haphazardly pointing and walking towards the food.

You don’t see it, but Eren looks on with glittering eyes, his verbal agreement heard only by himself as you veer towards the buffet. He can still feel your body in his grip, still see the specks of gold in your pupils as he lingers on the back of your silhouette lovingly. And before you can realize, he snaps himself out of it—an out of body experience similar to yours a few moments ago—before catching up with you.

You end up socializing for much longer than intended. Eren makes friends with everyone, to no surprise, and, uncharacteristically, you feel influenced by his actions, and converse with a few people yourself. You let him take the lead, though. Partially because he’s better at it, and partially because you just like listening to him speak French.

“Hey, we should probably get out of here,” he whispers into your ear after waving goodbye to a lovely couple you’d just met, “Before the host of this party realizes we’re miles better than his actual guests.”

You nod with a smile, more than happy to play by his rules for the evening. He offers you his hand again, that same, dopey smile on his face when you take it.

He leads you out of the crowd and back on to the path to your villa, the smell of warm food and sounds of vibrant music growing dull as you venture further from the celebration. It’s much darker than it was when you began your trek back from the restaurant, but beautiful all the same.

Your sandals pad against the wooden dock that leads up the villa, and Eren unlocks the door silently, ushering you inside before entering behind you.

“I know I said I wanted to leave, but I’m not really tired yet,” Eren confesses, pulling his blazer off of his shoulders.

“Me neither,” you say, placing your small wristlet on the table with a shrug, “What do you wanna do though, I’m not—”

“Great!” he cuts you off, smile too big. You narrow your own in suspicion. That tone of voice with that look on his face usually meant something mischievous, at best. “Remember when you said the first time you’d smoke would be with me, and then pranced away and took a bowl from Hange and got high as shit at Moblit’s party?”

“Why does everyone remember Moblit’s party but me!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, waving the topic away, “Anyway… Do you wanna smoke now?”

You blink. “I… did you… smuggle weed all the way to France?”

“No, of course not!” he refutes, “…I got it here.”

You scoff, but don’t have the time to question him further before Eren’s tugging on your wrist and pulling you into the bedroom. You take to sitting on your bed while he rummages through his suitcase to retrieve a small, clear jar with several rolled joints inside and a lighter to match.

He shuffles next to you in the bed, mindlessly handing you the lighter while he unscrews the top off the jar. He takes out two of the joints, places one next to the jar on the nightstand, and tucks the other between his teeth. He asks you to hand him the lighter, and you do so wordlessly, distracted by the sight of Eren’s gaze and the blunt poking out his mouth.

“This’ll be fun, yeah?” He reassures you, “Technically, you let Hange take your weed virginity, but I’ll be better.”

“Can you not phrase it like that,” you roll your eyes, “You already took my virginity virginity, don’t be bitter.”

An all too smug grin settles on his features as he recounts the fact. “Besides,” you tack on, “I’ve never done it like this before. So, it’s still a first, kind of.”

Eren cups one hand around the joint, sparking the lighter with the other until it catches fire. He inhales, slow and deliberate, as if he were putting on a show, or a lesson, of sorts, taking the smoke into his lungs and out through his mouth.

You’d gravely miscalculated how attractive Eren would look doing this. Sure, he’s hot, you knew that, but the pronunciation of his jawline when he exhales, and the confidence with which he drags on the blunt is a stark reminder to you. He takes a few more hits, just as slow and sensual as the first, and the room begins to feel warmer.

“Come closer,” be beckons, smoke rolling off of his tongue with every syllable.

You snap yourself out of the haze of your imagination and scoot closer to him. He silently hands you the joint, and it feels heavy between your fingers. At the distance, you take in the smell—pungent and off-putting, but too familiar.

Eventually, you bring it to your lips, careful not to let your tongue press against the tip, and inhale slowly, like you’d seen Eren do before. You do your best to hold the smoke in your lungs for a bit, but seeing as the last time you did this you were amped up on adrenaline and drunk off your ass, the task proves to be much more difficult. It tickles before becoming uncomfortable and you exhale ungracefully, puffs of smoke punctuating your coughs.

Eren watches with a grin, amused at the sight of you fanning the excess smoke away with your nose scrunched in distaste. “You should have warned me you were gonna cough like a bitch.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you whine, trying to hide the hint of a smile creeping onto your face. You hand the blunt back to him, “You’re supposed to teach me, not tease me, asshole.”

Eren pauses his laughter, unsure of what to make of your tone; rushed, a bit embarrassed, but testy. It’s quiet while he stares at you, trying not to let the implication of your words run wild in his mind; but it’s futile when you’re pouting like that, the room is growing foggier, and he’s been semi-hard since you accepted his offer.

“Fine. Watch and learn,” he breathes, words coming out more jagged than he’d intended.

This time, he completely exaggerates every motion; he inhales at a tantalizing pace and flutters his eyes closed while he lets the smoke swish in his mouth, down his throat, and expand into his lungs. He cranes his neck upwards, and purses his lips to let the clouds exit in the streamline that follows the slope of his jaw.

Maybe it’s the drugs getting to you, but your mind is filled with nothing but sheer clouds that aren’t thick enough to block out thoughts of Eren. The weed is unattractive, potent in smell, and all kinds of wrong; yet, everything about him is soft, sultry, and pulls you in.

“Wanna try again, or do you need another lesson?”

You faintly mutter a profanity under your breath. His words end with giggles, a sign the drugs have already begun to take their effect on him, his expression is still smug. You forget Eren knows just how attractive he is. Motherfucker.

“Actually,” he cuts your train of thought, “I have a better idea, come ‘ere.”

Eren beckons you forward again, closing the gap between your legs so that your knees graze each other under the fabric of your clothing while you’re sat next to each other. He leans over, far too close into your personal space, as if to test something; he freezes when his nose is mere inches from your face, a dissatisfied scrunch taking over his features.

He reinstates his hold on your wrist, motioning your body backwards until your back is against the frame of the bed. He hums in approval, positioning himself next to you again, equally as close, but far more comfortable for what he has planned next.

“I’m—I’m gonna try somethin’, okay?” he stutters, the first word mistakenly coming out in broken German, “Just, don’t freak out on me. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, unsure of what you’ve just signed off on, but you don’t have time to ask questions. Eren takes another hit, then passes the blunt to his non-dominant hand. He turns to face you, leans forward, and places his free hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer; the expanse of his palm leaving room for his thumb to venture over the bottom half of your cheek.

Eren pulls you in until your lips are millimeters apart, and he can see the pattern of your eyes in beautiful detail. He shifts his hand now so that the majority of it covers your face, the pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip. He applies the perfect amount of pressure to pry your willing mouth open, and then, finally, exhales.

This time, you can taste it. It’s woodsy, and bitter, but the sweet undertones dance on your tongue. This time, there’s more to think about than just the smoke in your lungs; like the burn of Eren’s hand on your neck; the pressure of his thumb against your bottom lip; the proximity of his lips to yours; the look in his eyes.

“Feel good?” he doesn’t bother to pull away before asking, and the words ghost over your lips with the remaining smoke. You nod; he smiles. “Wanna try again?”

You let out a breathy note of affirmation, and then he’s inhaling and exhaling into you, and you welcome him with pried lips and a heavy thumping in your chest. The confidence with which he maneuvers his body and the drugs is nerve-wracking, yet comforting at the same time; he has an expertise and power that intimidates, but compels you to follow.

Together, you finish the first blunt, and Eren lights the second without missing a beat. His hands are more demanding this around; they guide you into submission, and he’s pleased to find that you’re willing to listen.

After the third exhale, you stop focusing on his hands, and more on his lips. After the fourth, you think you might be high—not to the stars as you infamously were during Moblit’s party—but with a comfortable, dull buzz in your head. Everything feels a little fuzzy, out of touch, but you host a burning want for something more, something tangible.

You don’t know it, but Eren feels the same.

After the fifth exhale, Eren pulls away, the blunt a simple stub as he flicks it away onto the night stand, and you miss him being too close. You miss his hands, you miss his warmth, you crave his touch.

“Eren,” you call, unable to think of or see anything but him in the haze. He answers with a strained, “Yeah?” keening towards the sound of your voice, wide eyes flitting all over your face.

It’s too much, too close, too hot. That’s when you cup his jaw, pull him forward, and meld your lips together.

Kissing Eren is painfully familiar, and unnervingly satisfying. It’s certainly not your first kiss with him; and, yet he has a way of making you feel like it is while reminding you of your history. His lips are soft, and they taste like smoke and the chapstick you swear by because he refuses to buy or test out his own.

You pull away too soon, gauging his reaction with blown-out eyes, before dipping forward to have him against you again. Then again, and again, and again, until Eren is tired of your leaving, and his hands are back on your neck.

This kiss is deeper, Eren searching to satisfy the hunger aching inside of him, and you’re happy to comply when his thumb is pressing at your lower lip again. You open your mouth for him and he doesn’t waste a moment, brushing his tongue against yours experimentally, and then flush into your mouth.

He groans when you rake your fingers into his hair, and pulls back with a hissing noise when you scratch at his nape. Large hands move to grip at your waist, and he pulls you into his lap with a concentrated gaze—a brief second for him to admire the sight of you on top of him, before he resumes kissing you. He sucks on your tongue, rolls his past your teeth, and bites on your bottom lip.

You know he relishes in the sounds he elicits from you, and under any normal circumstance, you’re willing to put up a fight with him, but not now. Now, you let him unzip the back of your dress and snake his hands beneath the fabric. The rubbing motions of his hands turn into gripping, gripping into grinding, and eventually, an unfiltered moan slips past your lips when you feel Eren’s erection roll against you.

“Fuck,” he pulls back with a suck of your swollen lip, “You’re so hot.”

Eren quickly switches your positions so that he’s hovering over you. You chuckle lightly underneath him, taking the opportunity to run both your hands through his hair and cradle his head in your hold, “Haven’t done anything yet.”

“I know,” Eren murmurs, dipping his head down to press kisses into your neck, “Still so sexy. So pretty, always.”

Eren bites a hickey into your collar bone, and everywhere he can touch; your neck, your ears, your cheeks, your lips. Your moaning serves as the spark to keep him going, but he’s barely coherent himself the way you keep pulling at his hair and grinding yourself against him. Even through his clothes, you can feel how painfully hard he is.

He barely catches your tongue between his lips when you moan again, sucking harshly before bruising his lips over yours again. His hands are grabby again, finally pulling your dress completely off of your body, leaving it to form a puddle on the ground. They’re back on your as soon as possible, massaging over your tits, and running his index finger over your nipples.

“Eren... Eren, please,” you whimper, chest heaving as you look down at him. He rolls his index finger over your right nipple, with his left hand teasing the other with his thumb. You can’t tell if the look in his eyes is a product of the weed, or just his glassy, borderline predatory stare, but it makes you shiver with pleasure when he wraps his mouth around your nipple and sucks.

“I want you.”

“Want you, too,” Eren hums, pulling back with a thin trail of spit from your breast, before moving to give your left nipple the same treatment, “More than you know.”

You keen to him when he teases his teeth against you, finally having had enough you force him off of you with a tug of his hair. “Then take off your clothes.”

Eren blinks, wide-eyed but glazed all the same. He chuckles lightly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he nods. He sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head, forgoing undoing the buttons, and pauses briefly with his hands over the zipper of his pants.

“Please tell me you’re not that gone that you forgot how to undo your zipper,” you tease him, chest still heaving from his previous ministrations. Eren smiles, doe-eyed and hazy, and shakes his head.

“No,” he reassures you, finally undoing his zipper and shimmying his pants off his legs, “Was trying to remember what underwear I was wearing. Didn't want it to be embarrassing.”

His honesty makes you laugh, and Eren pauses for a moment to soak it in. Even like this, even with him stumbling over the steps to undress himself, and you almost completely naked in front of him, he can make you smile. There’s something equally sexy and endearing about your giggles; a juxtaposition that makes him want to hug you or kiss you or something in between. And you—you like the look in his eyes even through your giggling; the way he smiles back and blushes and tells you exactly what he’s thinking.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “Don’t think mine are particularly sexy either.”

Eren hums, shuffling back on to the bed so that he’s between your legs, and leans forward to kiss you again. He still can’t seem to keep his hands off of you, his fingers immediately flying to your underwear and peeling them off your legs, pulling you closer despite the lack of space between your bodies.

“Yeah, doesn’t matter,” Eren echos, tossing the offending item to the side, before cupping your face in his hands, “I’d still wanna fuck you in your granny panties.”

“You wanna fuck me?” you question, eyes sparkling and hopeful.

“Yeah, I do,” Eren can’t help but to smile again, happy and high and drunk on you, too, “Will you let me?”

Your feverish nodding is all it takes for Eren’s mind to go hazy again; clouded with you, you, you. You pull him into a kiss, arching your body into his, and running your hands down the sides of his back. He moans at the feeling, punishing you by nipping at your lower lip and pressing your stomach back to the mattress with his palm.

Your eyes meet his as Eren lines himself up with your cunt, teasing your folds with the head; but it doesn’t take long before he finally pushes in, sheathing himself inside you completely without movement. He waits a minute, whether it’s to make you comfortable, or to gather his own bearings, you’re not sure; but when he’s ready, he flashes you a smile and waits for one in return, before he starts thrusting.

You know Eren’s not gentle; rough whether or not he intends to be by virtue of his size in comparison to you, but you seem to have forgotten just how capable he is of making you lose your senses. He has you gasping, grasping at him at him unintelligibly, feeling full with his cock inside of you.

Eren groans, borderline growls, when he feels you clench around him, when he sees you shaking beneath him. He could do this all; could watch you all day.

“So pretty, the prettiest. Prettiest girl, my favorite girl,” Eren praises, eyes raking up and down your thrashing body, “My favorite fucking girl.”

“You—you, too.”

“Yeah? I’m your favorite, too?” Eren coos, reaching out to guide your arms over your head, the force of his body pinning your hands down; you can hardly gasp before he lacess your fingers together, and gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“Promised you, didn’t I? That I’d be good to you, be on my best behavior,” Eren reminds you, leaning forward.

He eyes your necklace—eyes glued to ring around it—bouncing with your body. He bends his head down to kiss it, bites at the skin near it; a possessive streak overcoming him as the diamonds shine against you. “I said I’d treat you good, always. Meant it.”

He stutters, when you squeeze him back; fingers tightening around his hold, your pussy clenching around his cock. Your whining is insistent, and mixes with Eren’s low moans and guttural noises. Eren doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you fast and deep, and it’s only a matter of time before you feel a knot twisting in your belly.

You attempt to move your arms, searching for a release of the feeling building up inside of you but Eren is strong; stronger than you, and he keeps you in your place. Keeps your arms pinned above you, keeps his palms pressed into yours, keeps his lips hovering above yours, just out of reach.

“Eren,” you call his name through shaky moans.

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, his lips needy and hungry over yours. Eren fucks you and kisses you through your orgasm, tasting your moans on his tongue in timing with him cumming inside of you. You don’t let up; kissing him lewdly while you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” Eren croons against your lips, down your jaw, into your skin, “So good for me.”

You both moan in chorus when he finally pulls out, Eren’s head laying on your collar, nose nuzzling into your neck. He lets your hands free, and immediately you wrap them around his back, holding him close as you both attempt to catch your breaths.

You don’t know how long you lay there like that, with Eren on top of you, and your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek while he sleeps soundly. Maybe an hour, maybe more, maybe less; but the euphoria of your sex doesn’t quiet seem to fade.

It might last all night, maybe even for the rest of your trip but you don’t mind. You think back to earlier in the evening, when you’d caught his gaze after your dance. The feeling isn’t all that different; warm, and fuzzy, and too much and not enough all at once. It feels good, it feels like Eren.

You hum softly to yourself, careful not to wake up the sleeping boy on your chest, when you realize exactly what these two moments have in common: a rare event in which Eren is still in front of you, steady and stagnant, no running or chasing; and you don’t want to let him go.

Sometimes Eren thinks you act oblivious on purpose just to fuck with him, because there’s absolutely no way you—or any human with a functioning nervous system and social cues—can’t tell that he’s completely, stupidly, and embarrassingly in love with you.

Long gone are his days of trying to deny it or get over it. He realized that sophomore year of high school—almost eight years ago—that no matter where he went, what kind of drug he inhaled, or how hard he tried, you’d be permanently etched into his heart. That doesn’t make it any less exhausting, and, in fact, only makes it more astounding that you haven’t caught on yet. Honestly, Eren’s considered hiring a private psychiatrist just to make nothing’s wrong with you.

Amazingly, the remainder of your vacation continues just like the former half. The only exception being that now you’re in Paris. And that he’s shamelessly coerced you into letting him fuck your brains out on several occasions. But besides that, everything’s chill.

Just two best friends traveling through France together and stopping to fuck in any semi-private location they can find. Just two peas in a pod walking along the Champs Elysées at damn near midnight. Just two best buds with linked arms tasting (see: feeding each other) every macaron flavor they come across while violinists play stupidly romantic, classical music in the background.

He knows he should probably talk to you about it, but for some reason he can’t. Like telling you would make it all too real, and give it a meaning that could so easily be taken away from him; give you a reason to want to leave him. Right now, it’s just a fantasy, and he’s free to keep dreaming, believing that he’s special and worth enough for the affection you’ve shown him.

He doesn’t want to be one in a list of your boyfriends, or fiances, or husbands; he wants to be your only one, and if he can’t be, then he’d rather be stuck to your side as your best friend. At least that way, in someway, he could remain special to you; not a forgotten, ordinary ex of your past.

Though, a best friend who he’s sleeping with regularly and he’s in love with and will always be in love with is starting to sound a lot like a husband to him. At least, the kind of husband he would like to be to you.

You call his name, asking him if he wants to try another sweet. Eren rolls his eyes. What he wants is to fuck you, and marry you, and have you bless his stupid little existence with two runts for kids that look like him but act like you so his life savings don’t run out by the time they’re twelve. But sure, he’ll settle for having you feed him another macaron in the meantime.

“This one tastes just like the coconut one,” he mumbles, chewing his way through the pastry you’d stuffed into his mouth whole.

It’s the seventh bakery you’ve stopped at tonight, and even though Eren’s growing pretty sick of the sugary treats, he’ll walk with you to every damn bakery in Paris tonight if that’s what you want.

He blinks at the thought. He’s so lovesick it’s disgusting. And he wouldn’t do a damn thing to change it.

“That’s probably because it’s almond and coconut flavored,” you say, wiping the stickiness from your fingers onto a napkin.

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

“I don’t even think you could spell almond, much less tell me what they taste like.”

Eren simply pouts in refute, leaving you giggling at his expression. He doesn’t know if it’s possible, but you seem even prettier in Paris than in Nice. But, that’s probably his rose-colored glasses speaking.

“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”

He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”

He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.

“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.

“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.

“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.

“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”

Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.

“I mean—”

“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”

You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.

“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”

Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.

“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”

“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.

“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”

Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.

“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.

“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.

He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”

Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.

He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.

The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.

And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.

You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.

“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”

You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.

Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.

He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.

“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”

But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.

Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.

Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.

“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.

Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.

“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”

Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.

“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”

“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”

“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.

“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”

The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.

It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.

Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.

He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.

Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.

His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”

And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.

He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.

Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.

The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.

“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”

“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.

His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.

“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.

He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.

“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”

Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”

“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”

“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”

“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”

“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”

“Eren—”

“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”

“Eren—”

“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”

Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.

“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”

Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.

“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”

“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”

She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”

And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.

“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”

It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.

“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”

“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”

“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”

Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”

“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”

Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”

“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”

Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.

“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.

“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”

You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.

You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.

You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.

It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.

“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”

“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.

“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”

The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”

“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”

“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”

“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”

“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”

“And you took it, anyway?”

“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”

Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”

“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.

Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.

And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.

Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.

A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.

But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”

Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.

“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”

You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.

Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.

“Mitchell, I have to—”

You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.

“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”

You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.

He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.

“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.

It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.

Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”

“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”

Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.  

“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”

“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”

You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.

“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”

“And if I asked you now?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”

Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.

“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”  

Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.

You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”

For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.

Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.

The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.

Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.

“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.

She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”

“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”

× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!