#making Connie spring proud

[brave-and-gentle]

Moots I got high and thought a pen mark on my thumb was a bug stuck to me.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

conrad thanksgiving fic please!!

This has been in my drafts for a long time...sorry. I might delete later, I don't really like it. It's not giving what I wanted it to...

Request: You’ve done Conrad dating a Haley James type of character, what about a Blair Waldorf type character? Old money, fiercely strong, rich, and outspoken. She and Belly would NOT get along, at all. He takes her to Thanksgiving dinner and Susannah is still there and she loves her

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—

Thanksgiving had always been a massive celebration in your family. Every year, your parents would go all out and host a dinner with their closest friends and their families. Your mother would direct the caterer team and make sure everything was perfect before the guests’ arrival. At the end the meal by having a slice of your father’s infamous pumpkin pie — which was your personal favorite part. 

This year, Thanksgiving was going to be different. Your father was in Paris for business and your mother somewhere in Europe, expanding her collection of vintage designer handbags. Had you not been in college, you would have happily joined her.

‘’Why don’t you come with me to Boston?’’ Conrad asked as you watched him pack a bag for the weekend.  ‘’My mom keeps asking me when she’ll get to meet you.’’ 

The thought of spending Thanksgiving alone had been looming over you, and Conrad's invitation was like a ray of light. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. ‘’You told your mother about me?’’

‘’Not really,’’ Conrad explained, picking another sweater and adding it into his bag. ‘’She heard your voice when she called the other day and Jeremiah told her all about you. He’s such a big mouth...’’ He shook his head, wishing his brother could hold his tongue sometimes. 

Susannah was ecstatic to have another guest for dinner. It was on very short notice and most of the preparations were already done when Conrad informed her of your addition to the table, but she would never pass up an opportunity to meet her Connie’s new girlfriend.  

When you and Conrad walked in, Susannah was all over you, complimenting your dress and how gorgeous you looked. You were quick to return her compliments, pointing out how her eyes looked exactly like Conrad's.

You met the other guests — Conrad’s father and brother, then Laurel and her kids —, and all were surprised by who Conrad had brought home. No one ever expected him to date someone born of old money. He’s dated Nicole, but she was nowhere as rich as your family. 

‘’Look at this amazing table,’’ Susannah said as she brought in the turkey, looking very proud of herself. ‘’Martha Stewart can kiss my ass!’’

Your eyes went wide for a short second, not expecting such words from her. She looked so sweet and delicate. 

Conrad shook his head at his mother, happy to see her being herself again. 

Everyone got seated, then Susannah spoke again. ‘’Before we eat, let’s go around the table and say one thing that we’re thankful for. Jere Bear, you can start.’’  

You lifted your eyes at Jeremiah across the table, who looked nothing like his brother. If you hadn’t known, you would never have guessed they were related. 

‘’I’m thankful for my mom,’’ the younger Fisher began, ‘’who reconsidered trying this new treatment for us. I don’t know what I would do without you, Mom.’’ He glanced at his mother, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. 

Susannah squeezed his hand over the table while everyone was trying to not get emotional. 

Conrad had told you about his mother’s breast cancer having come back in the spring. He tried to hide her sickness from you, but when you found him crying in his dorm on a Saturday afternoon, you knew something wasn’t okay. It was a tough subject for the entire family — especially since it was the second time she was going through this. For that, Susannah didn’t like to talk about cancer. She didn’t want her whole life to revolve around it just because a nasty tumor had returned in her body. She wanted to live her life the way it’s always been…and take a few more sitting breaks when needed.

In turn, the other guests said what they were thankful for. It went from Steven getting a car for his birthday to Belly becoming captain of her school’s volley-ball team and Laurel being a typical mom and being thankful for her children. 

‘’Connie, it’s your turn,’’ Susannah said, motioning to her eldest son.

Conrad nodded at his mom, then cleared his throat. ‘’Jeremiah took the words out of my mouth, so I’ll say something else I’m equally thankful for.’’ His lips tugged up into a little half smile and he reached over the table to take your hand in his. ‘’I’m thankful for meeting my amazing girlfriend, who came into my life at the most unexpected, yet perfect moment.’’ 

You smiled back at Conrad, giving his fingers a little squeeze. 

Seated before you, Belly snickered lightly. ‘’Can we eat now? Mom didn't want us to get snacks on the way here and I’m starving.’’ 

Laurel gave her daughter a pointed glare, wishing she would behave. 

Although the pumpkin pie didn’t come close to your father’s recipe, you made sure to tell Susannah it reminded you of home. 

‘’I hope your parents are not too sad that you came to Boston instead,’’ Susannah said, incapable of imagining spending Thanksgiving without her family — especially her boys. 

‘’Not at all, Mrs. Fisher,’’ you politely replied. ‘’My parents were both out of the country this Thanksgiving. Business related travel.’’

Susannah raised an eyebrow. ‘’Oh? What is it that they do?’’ 

You didn’t mean to brag, but she had asked. ‘’My mother is a fashion designer and my father is a lawyer at my grandfather’s firm.’’ 

You caught Belly rolling her eyes and muttering something. You didn’t care what she thought of you, you were the one who got to share Conrad’s bed at the end of the day. Ignoring her childish reactions, you continued talking to Susannah about your parents. She was very interested in your mother’s designs.

When dinner was officially over, you all vacated the table. Jeremiah and Steven went to the living room to set up a game for the five of you to play — another family tradition. You had never played cards against humanity before, but you’ll give it a try. 

Before you reached the living room, Conrad pulled you in a corner near the stairs, wanting some time alone with you. 

‘’Belly despises me,’’ you pointed to him, keeping your voice down so no one would hear.

Conrad rolled his eyes as he curled an arm around you, knowing how you had the tendency to exaggerate things. ‘’She does not. She’s just…having difficulty accepting that I moved on.’’

You made a face at him. ‘’Don’t you defend her. Have you seen all the sour looks she gave me during dinner? Your eyes might be the most beautiful shade of blue, my love, but I believe they are in need of a visual acuity test. You should schedule one when we get back to Palo Alto.’’ 

Conrad chuckled, amused by your theatrics. 

‘’Belly is going to be tougher to win with your charm. Like every ex-girlfriend, she’s gonna try to paint you as a mean girl, so you just have to show her that you’re the opposite. Compliment her. Tell her you like her sweater.’’

‘’But it looks itchy. It’s probably polyester.’’ 

The corner of Conrad’s lips turned into a smile.

—

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[lavendertales]

Salted wound—Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 16 of the Unholy series

summary: a letter lies on your nightstand. Reading it not only offers you comfort and clearance, but motivation to settle things with Javier once and for all.

word count: 6k

WARNINGS: emotional talk, mentions of illness & death; fingering, cunnilingus, piv, cowgirl, praise kink.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @azertyrobaz​ 

series masterlist | AO3 

You are awakened by a throbbing headache that makes it increasingly difficult to open your eyes. The brightness blinds you briefly as you open one eye, then you open the other while forcing yourself to stand up in the middle.

You realize that your left leg and right arm both hurt, making you wonder what in the world you could have done last night to cause such excruciating pain. You attempt to recall any regrettable events from last night, but all that comes to mind is—

Oh.

Javier.

He politely declined you last night, offering to drive you home to safety. And by the looks of it, he has.

You then notice that you are wearing your pajamas as opposed to last night’s outfit, indicating that Javier likely took it off while helping you get into bed. Your heart quickens in your chest at the unexpected softness as you scan the room and see your clothes from last night neatly folded on the armchair in the corner. You grin as you recall yesterday night, how it felt to kiss him once more after what seemed like an eternity, and how his hands pulled you in and held you while you shivered with excitement.

“Good to see you’re alive.”

Your head hurts more as you quickly walk about the bed in terror over the feminine voice that isn't somewhere to be heard. When Sofia’s head finally appears from the floor, her lips are tightly pursed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask, somewhat concerned.

“You gave me and Connie spare keys, like six months ago.”

You frown. “Yeah, for emergencies, not… whatever this is.”

Intrusive thoughts protrude your brain.

“We didn’t… do anything, right?” you check.

It’s Sofia’s turn to frown at you, slowly standing up from the floor.

“No,” she puts your mind at ease. “Why was that your first guess?”

“Let’s just say I had a crazy spring break in Mexico once. Anyway, this doesn’t clarify anything.”

Sofia joins you in the bed, huffing. “I came in roughly one hour after you. Wanted to make sure I give you and Javier enough space and time to… have your fun.”

“Don’t—no.”

“Besides, I’m—kind of in hiding.”

“Why?”

A gasp escapes past your lips. “Did you do something with Steve?”

“No! But I did… fool around with Trujillo.”

Realization hits you in the head like a brick, having you trying to envision the situation, and still having difficulties wrapping your mind around it.

“Really?” you ask.

Sofia nods, looking suspiciously proud of her shenanigans.

“A surprisingly good kisser, that one. And not bad with his hands, either.”

“Okay, that’s—we’ll circle back to that.”

As you make an effort to get out of bed, you see a pill on your nightstand next to a large glass of water. You struggle to suppress your smile as you picture Javier carefully undressing you, checking that your clothes are comfortable, and leaving you with water to drink and a remedy for your upcoming headache. When you consider the dynamic you and Javier have always had, this is a level of domesticity that you never would have imagined.

It’s then that you notice another thing on the nightstand. It’s a sheet of paper, folded nicely with your name on it. You instantly know its despatcher, and your heart’s in your throat again.

“So? How was your night?”

Sofia’s cheerful tone distracts you, at least for a little while.

“It wasn’t like that,” you explain. “He just… drove me home and got me into bed.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, stop saying it like that!”

“Sorry.”

You shake your head a little, eager to grab a bite from the kitchen so you can take your hangover cure. However, a new headache follows. Only this one is filled with shock and regret alike.

“Oh no,” you coo, gaining Sofia’s attention.

“What?”

“Oh no, no, no, this is horrible.”

“What, what is?”

You pause, staring in utter shock at Sofia’s investigative face. “I told Javier last night… I told him that I love him.”

Sofia’s face lights up, mouth ajar as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Oh my God,” she says, trying to process the situation too. “And you haven’t done anything, really? Not even after that?”

“I was drunk, I—oh God.”

“Hey, I’m only teasing you,” she says, wrapping her arms around you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… do you love him?”

You raise your shoulder, your face guilty, and Sofia refrains herself from making additional comments or faces that wouldn’t aid you right now. That look on your face is more than enough to go on.

“Can I get you some breakfast?” you offer instead.

“No, I should get going. Thank you though. Sorry if I scared or upset you.”

“You did break in, kind of, but alright. Are you sure you wanna go out there, potentially face Trujillo?”

Both of you chuckle, and you walk her towards the door, desperately trying not to think about the damn letter taunting you with its mere presence on your nightstand.

“Well not now, in this state. Maybe tonight,” Sofia ponders.

“God, you’re insatiable.”

“Like you wouldn’t even know.”

You give her a brief kiss on the cheek, ensuring she’s okay going down the stairs and calling a cab for herself. The moment the door closes behind her and you return to your apartment’s solitude, you quiver in anticipation.

Of what, you’re really not sure. Maybe it’s nothing serious, that letter. The only way of knowing is by opening it and reading it, but nervousness seems to control your moves, even as you walk into the kitchen and make yourself some buttered toast. The trouble is that, even looking around, you see stains of Javier’s presence lingering there. The couch, where he’d fucked you from the back till you were red, swollen and overly sensitive; the kitchen table, where you’d sloppily made out with him and palmed him through his tight jeans, feeling him stiffen right under your touch. Your own bed, where you came in his mouth and on his hand several times in row, then swiftly returned the favor to him. He is everywhere you look, even on your skin.

You eat your breakfast diligently, then rush to take the much-needed Advil, and take a deep breath before having the letter in your hands. You’re giving it too much power already, but you can’t help assign meaning to it.

The only way to put your mind to rest is to simply read it. So you just do it. You open it, and beg your heart to not spasm out of control.

Cariño,

You’ve always been the smartest, most passionate and amazing woman I’ve ever met. That’s why I always did everything I could to keep you at arm’s length. You’re too much like me, stubborn and feisty.

But I’m also a coward, which you aren’t. I guess I’m taking the easy road by doing this, but I do hope you understand.

You’ve always pushed me to do better. Just knowing you has made me a better student, a better agent. Unfortunately, not a better man. I tried to be, I really did. I thought I was good, but everywhere I go, pain follows. It’s been the same with my ex fiancé, and it’s the same with you. I’m sorry I let it go this far. My hands are too tainted with blood and guilt to ever touch you.

I truly am so very sorry for what I’ve done to you. I know my following orders has turned you into an orphan, but your father turned children into orphans too. Sometimes left other people childless. I guess I’m saying this because I know that deep down, you understand this. I know you know it was only duty. But I also understand you are hurt. So if you choose not to join in on the Cali mission, I understand. I wouldn’t blame you. I just want you to be okay, no matter where you are or who you’re with.

When I told you that you won everything, I did mean everything. You won our bet, and every little petty competition we’ve ever had. And you won me, too. Somewhere along the line, from the first time we bickered over the seating chart in freshman year, to us bickering about work strategies and schemes, you won me. I guess it’s because you always get the best out of me, also the worst. You make me look at the worst parts of myself and want to better myself. You are so stubborn, so driven and feisty, it’s not really a surprise things turned out the way they did.

I meant what I said that night, by the way. I do love you. More than I could ever show you.

Javier

You don’t even realize you have teary eyes, not until one teardrop falls down the paper, watering some of Javier’s neat writing. You’ve never felt this raw, this sensitive over someone’s words and it is mind-blowing in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. It’s like you finally get the chance to feel every single thing that has happened to you over the past two decades, the gut-wrenching and bittersweet way of it washing over your whole being. All of the pain, the heartache, the yearning, the seemingly impossible choices that led you to this very moment, it all feels encompassed in this letter, in your hands.

You can’t contain your emotions anymore. You tear up silently, smiling at the same time thinking of Javier taking the time to take care of you, make sure you’re safely tucked into bed, with something to help you the next day, and writing this in mid-darkness, trying his best to lay down his feelings on the piece of paper. You’ve always known he’s no Shakespeare, much so with spoken words, but you did know he could be sensitive.

Your fingers are ice cold on the phone as you call him, heart in your throat, the size of a peanut. His voice is shaky through the other end, clearly not having expecting you to call, but there is also relief in it, which in turn makes you feel relieved too. You both realize this is about to be a big moment in your lives, finally sitting down to talk about everything, and it makes you both nervous, although not in the worst way.

So you wait. You get a head start on preparing lunch, hoping you might as well have a warm meal at the ready before jumping head first into a big conversation.

Time moves both too fast and too slow as you wait for a knock on the door, the doorbell, anything that might inform you of Javier’s arrival. You nearly burn yourself several times on the stove, anticipation getting the best of you.

Finally, a knock on the door takes you away from the kitchen, just in time with your finished lunch. You brace yourself, last night’s events creeping up on you unexpectedly. Hand on the knob, you freeze, a little too aware of how sensitive you’ve been feeling since last night.

“Hi,” you open the door with a nervous smile.

“Hi.”

Javier’s flustered too, you can see it on his face, shaping him into a more comely human being and it’s such an endearing sight that you nearly forget everything else.

“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I made some tomato soup and grilled cheese.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“I know your diet consists of whiskey and cigarettes, so you should have something warm for a change. Come on.”

As you welcome him in, Javier takes a look around, the scent of a home cooked meal invading his nostrils. He instantly feels cozy and warm, like he’s been away from home for too long and now he’s finally returned. It is not a sentiment he takes lightly, particularly when it’s the first time he’s ever felt this way.

“Smells really good,” he says, cautiously sitting at the kitchen table.

You smile. “Thank you. It’s not much, but—“

“It’s more than enough.”

The glare you exchange feels disarming, weakening through its simple state, yet you both embrace it.

There’s a comfortable silence in between you two, filled with an uncharacteristic eagerness. In a way, you both feel like teenagers on their third date when you both know tonight’s the night. Except for you, the big night consists of a sincere and open conversation.

“This is really good,” Javier compliments. “Can’t remember when the last time I ate a home cooked meal was.”

“I wanna say… Texas? You know, pre Colombia?”

Javier chuckles, realizing how utterly famished he is.

“Probably, yeah,” he admits. “So… thank you for this. Doesn’t look like you wanna shoot me, so I guess it’s a good sign.”

This time you chuckle, hiding your giggle in the grilled cheese’s warmth flushing your cheeks.

“You’re safe,” you tell him. “Thank you, by the way.”

Javier only looks at you, not daring say a word, despite his curiosity is nearly skinning him alive.

“For taking care of me last night,” you seem to answer the unasked question. “It was definitely the right call.”

“Sure it was.”

Again you chuckle, more so at the thought of how easy it is for him to make you laugh like nothing bad had ever happened between the two of you.

“I read the letter,” you say out of the blue, making him thankful that he already finished the meal and not have it turn into a choking hazard. “You’re not too shabby with words.”

“Not in writing, maybe.”

You put the dishes aside, inhaling once before locking eyes with Javier, exhaling what seems to be the longest breath drawn in.

“How come you didn’t stay last night?” you ask, preoccupied. “After everything you did… I mean, driving me home, changing my clothes and tucking me in…”

“I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

You make a funny face at him, and he feels silly recognizing the meaning behind it.

“We’ve done less than appropriate things for months,” you remind him.

“True, but neither of us ever spent the night. Besides, I was afraid you might start rubbing up against me or something. And I wasn’t prepared to turn that down a second time. We both would’ve felt guilty in the morning—it would’ve been a whole thing.”

“Or not.”

You both chuckle simultaneously. Cracking up jokes to cope with the situation, maintaining that familiar sting between the two of you is nothing if not a good sign.

“I really liked the letter,” you start. “I appreciate you writing it. I know it wasn’t easy for you. And you were right. I do know why you did what you did. I know it, and I understand it, and… I would’ve done the same.”

Javier does want to interrupt, contradict you in some way, but you shake your head.

“I would,” you continue. “The reason why I was so angry… it’s not even about that horrible thing I told you, leaving me an orphan. I guess I was just trying to preserve this image of a loving, hardworking father that in reality was never there. The image of the father that I wanted, not the one that I had. The one that I had… was a monster. And if it were me out there, that day… I would’ve pulled the trigger, too. You didn’t know, and you were following orders.”

Javier feels like he can finally breathe in the longest time. Hearing you say all of that makes his heart feel lighter and his muscles less tense.

“I am still sorry about it,” he mutters apologetically.

“I know,” you smile. “It would’ve been concerning if you wouldn’t have been.”

Your words steal a smile from his lips, the image more blissful than you would’ve imagined.

“And I guess… the way that I’ve acted was also to push you away,” you continue. “It was easier to be angry at you for a seemingly solid reason than to admit—the last thing I would’ve expected to happen, happened.”

Javier’s brows crease, allowing a frown to crinkle his forehead that was already drowning in thoughts. He coos your name softly, gently, like he’s terrified of scaring you away.

“I don’t know how much you remember from last night—“

“I remember, Javier. I know what I said.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t say it just because I was drunk. The timing wasn’t ideal, maybe, but the idea still stands.”

Javier gulps. Nothing could’ve prepared him for such an acknowledgement, let alone to the sight of you so dreamy and cozy in front of him, a sight which makes his knees weak and his heart swell up.

“And in the interest of honesty…” you breathe in, unexpectedly hesitant, “there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”

Javier braces himself. What could it be? Was there something you were also hiding from him? Something else more devastating and incredible than you admitting that you love him? Him?

“You once asked me why I hate you. And I said it’s because you’re obnoxious and stubborn and whatnot. But it’s not—what I meant. There was a time back in college when I really… did hate you.”

Okay, so he was definitely unprepared for that. He looks at you curiously, waiting for you to go on.

“Second semester of our freshman year, you started calling me Bambi. You started calling me that shortly after my mom died. And I couldn’t help but—“

Javier’s mouth is ajar at the revelation, shook. Memories from early college invade his memory, shame taking over most of them. Of course he decided to mock you over the most sensitive thing because that’s how he is—an insensitive asshole.

“I didn’t—I’m so sorry,” he instantly says. “I didn’t know, I swear—“

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t. You didn’t know her, and… hell, I didn’t know her. She was sick for a long time, and when I got the news… it still kinda shook me. The timing was just bad. But I kept thinking, ‘God, how does he find new ways to be annoying?’”

Javier is barely listening to you. He can’t help but replay every moment when he’s mocked you that way, not taking into consideration your feelings and how that might make you feel because—why would he?

He gets up from the table and paces the living room, his nerves frazzled. He probably wouldn’t have been affected in this way if this were any other person. But even during the years when you haven’t spoken or seen each other, you have been a part of his life for more years than he chooses to count, and as a result, he can no longer recall a time when you weren’t. You’re a dependable, strong presence in his life who he keeps hurting.

How could you possibly love him? How could you even look at him after the things he’s done? He wasn’t your rival or your nemesis – he was your worst nightmare.

“Javier,” you murmur, pacing towards him.

“I should go,” he says, hands on his hips and eyes into the ground.

“Javier, stop.”

“Stop what? Everything I’ve ever done proves that I am a shitty person! I killed your dad, I mocked the death of your mom—the fuck is wrong with me, it’s like all I can do is hurt you, over and over—“

He’s losing control, and that’s not the kind of thing you typically see. You doubt anyone has ever been this close to Javier to witness the deepest, darkest parts of his persona. You feel lucky, in a way, knowing you get to.

You grab his hands, forcing him to look at you. “Listen to me,” you say in a definitive tone. “If there’s anything I know for a fact about you, is that you are a good guy. You were a good student, damn good competition, and a good man.”

Lips pursed, Javier can barely muster the courage to look at you, still reeling into his guilt.

“You didn’t know either of them,” you continue. “And… I was never close with any of them. You couldn’t have possibly known. I hated you at the time because, again… it was the logical thing for me to do instead of admitting the obvious.”

“Don’t spare me,” he begs. “You can hate me. It might even be better in this case. I can take it.”

“I know what you can and can’t handle.”

The underlying flirtatious tone has him fuming. Truthfully, he’s not even certain how the two of you seemed to skip rope with the line between love and hate on a regular basis, but it was simply part of your relationship’s allure.

“Fine, if you don’t wanna let this go,” you call a truce, “tell me why you hate me.”

Javier chuckles, breaking free from your touch. “What?”

“I’m serious. I answered the question. It’s only fair you answer it too.”

“It’s—it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. Spit it out, Peña.”

“It doesn’t matter, okay? It’s nothing, it’s—stupid.”

“Oh come on, it’s only fair! What’s the big deal? Just say what you have to say, I can—“

“Because you broke my fucking heart! Okay?”

The silence in between you two now weighs heavily, carrying along with it shock and tension that begs to be relieved one way or the other.

“What?” you murmur. “When?”

Javier huffs, visibly distressed having to go on with the story now that he angrily spewed out the reason for his former rage. He knows he has to get it out in the open now.

“End of our senior year, we were done with exams and there was this party. Some… prom of some kind, I don’t know.”

“Oh yeah. I remember that.”

“They said they wanted to have it high school style, traditional prom or some shit, so everyone was encouraged to bring a date. I wasn’t gonna go, but I figured why not ask my academic rival? Worst came to worst, you were gonna say no and I’d just not go. But I also thought maybe you’d wanna spite me and say you’ll go with me. So when I did ask you—you proceeded to shame me in front of your friend group, laughing in my face. I thought it didn’t bother me, but when I didn’t get over it for years, I kinda realized it might’ve affected me more than I thought.”

You hold your breath. “Oh.”

You remember now the moment, oh so perfectly it cuts you open and pours salt in the open flesh. You remember viciously laughing in his face, thinking his question was nothing more but a cruel joke meant to make you look bad, so you took it one step further.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you hurt him so deeply that day.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize. “I didn’t realize it meant so much to you.”

“Neither did I back then. But as it turns out, you are one vice I could never quit.”

You gulp, feeling your nether region suddenly afire. You ache for the man before you, you ache to let him know just how sorry you are and how much you’ve missed him. You simply ache all over for him, and it’s getting to a point where a singular touch of his could tip you over the edge of sanity.

“Like you said… you didn’t know,” Javier seems to apologize.

“Still, it—it was shitty of me to just laugh in your face, especially in front of other people. I thought you were making a joke on my expense.”

“You were the first person that popped into my head. I don’t know. Seemed stupid at the time, it didn’t make any sense. Why would I think of the one person that annoys me the most? But I could only think of you.”

“Wait a minute. You didn’t come to that party at all.”

Javier makes a face that you can’t quite discern, and it makes you feel even worse.

“All the other girls were so clingy and shallow compared to you and I just—I don’t know. You were the only one who popped into my head.”

Moved, you reach to cup his stubbly cheek, and Javier closes his eyes, feeling the weight of the world through that featherlight touch.

“I’m not good at relationship stuff,” he mutters, looking down on you with that all-too-familiar furrow in between his brows that expresses concern. “Being a boyfriend, a fiancé or husband—not my strongest suit.”

You smile, oddly delighted at the idea of a flustered Javier. “Are you saying you want to be my boyfriend?”

He rolls his eyes, trying to act unimpressed, but smiling as well.

“Aren’t we past the boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic?” he asks.

“I don’t know. What do you want?”

“To be good enough, first of all.”

Your thumb grazes his cheek, the three day old stubble tickling your skin, prickling your senses alive, it seemed.

“You’re more than enough,” you coo.

You take one glance at him, then your lips find his with a devoted tenderness that knows no limits. As opposed to last night, this kiss is sweet and needy, but not rushed. Neither of you rushes to feel it, even though you’re both basically trembling with eagerness. You both desperately need to feel each other, to taste and to have each other in the most intimate way known to mankind, and it’s all right there in that kiss.

Javier’s hands hold your waist, as if trying to keep you from slipping out of his life, and they mold your heated flesh through your PJ’s, kneading it between his calloused fingers like you’re clay, and he’s about to form a masterpiece. You fail to remember the last time you were held like this, or even the last time you and Javier had been intimate. Probably the night when he flat-out told you he was jealous of that guy at the bar. It feels like years since that happened.

But right now, there’s no jealousy, no anger, none of the sort. It’s desperation in its finest form, a beautiful mess; hands gripping and wandering nervously, lips reddening, unable to stop pressing onto one another.

“Is this okay?”

Javier’s tongue-tied and coarse question leaves you dumbfounded. He’s done plenty without asking for verbal permission—only because you were always at the ready somehow and reciprocated enthusiastically—and now he’s insecure? Maybe he’s checking to make sure you’re okay after the hangover—or maybe this is how he acts when he truly cares and makes an effort to show it.

“Yes,” you breathe out, cupping his cheeks again to pull him in for another kiss turned sloppy.

You’ve done this dance before, so your limbs guide you naturally to the bedroom. In a fleeting moment, you feel his lips curl into a smile right into the kiss, and your heart twists itself into something akin to a child-like joy.

“Javi?” you mutter between peppered kisses, feeling the mattress beneath your body as you fall atop the bed.

“Hm?”

He pulls back to look at you, utterly mesmerized by your whole being; he tries not to think too much about the fact that this is the first time you’ve called him that, and in such a sweet, begging manner, no less.

“Please,” you coo, legs opening teasingly, to make room for him to do whatever he wants. “Please, I want you.”

He seems genuinely surprised, and it’s taking you aback to see that on his face.

“You do?”

He also sounds genuinely pained, like his and your pleasure also bring him an unmeasurable amount of pain and guilt. But you tug at the hem of his shirt, needy and gently alike, in hopes of washing away all of his concerns.

“Yes,” you reply, working against his jeans. “Always.”

It’s so easy for him to succumb to you, so pathetically easy, but he doesn’t care. Oh, he doesn’t care; he just wants to remain locked in this moment, to have your face and your heated body imprinted on his mind like a tattoo.

You stop trying to unzip his jeans, stumbled by his own hands reaching for your pajama bottoms, sliding them down. Javier makes a sound, half disapproving and half impressed, and he swallows around nothing but dryness at the sight of your glistening pussy on display just for him.

“Commando, huh?” he teases.

You lick your lips, biting on your lower one as you watch him in a trance. “It’s more comfortable.”

“Sure is.”

He seems to reach for your clit, and you’re reeking of desperation at this point, but he pulls back and you huff with disappointment, making it known to him as well. Javier leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, and he murmurs, “Anything you want, you can have it. Tell me what you want.”

You thought that sitting there with your legs spread open and your pussy nearly soaked just from kissing him was good enough explanation, but it seems he needs something more, a verbal or physical confirmation of some sort.

So you take one of his hands and guide it to your warm spot, sucking in a sharp breath when you feel his thumb pressed flat against your clit, starting to rub it gently. You see him smile, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“This what you want?” he checks, his index now teasing through your folds, hearing how your breaths get more uneven.

“Yes. Yes, yes, please—“

Then, two thick fingers push slowly through your heated flesh, careful not to hurt, and you throw your head back, almost shocked at the contact. Your hips buckle upwards in an attempt to meet with more of his hand as he starts to pump his digits in and out, circling and scissoring inside you, and when they hit a particular spot, you know you won’t last that long. You don’t want to cum this fast, not without feeling him properly, but you also desperately need to let go of all that frustration, so it’s a tough call.

One that Javier intuits pretty damn well.

Next thing you know, Javier’s tongue is lapping at your folds, adding to the preexisting torture of his fingers, and the pressure is rapidly building inside of you. You moan his name on a loop, the sound spurring him on like nothing else ever could, hardening his cock with each passing second.

“Fuck,” you manage to get out, hands tightly gripping his broad shoulders. “Fuck, Javi—“

“So pretty,” he groans from in between your legs. “So sweet and—filthy—“

The sound of his voice, so thick with pleasure and frustration alike, sends vibrations through your whole body, triggering pleasure centers that were dormant up until now. He’s eating you out and fingering you diligently, like this is the most important mission he’ll ever be on, and the pressure of it all builds rapidly in your lower region. Your whole body’s afire, but you feel like your belly’s going to explode soon.

“Javi, I’m gonna come—fuck—“

“You’re gonna come just from this? Hm?”

“Yes—“

“You’re gonna come with my fingers inside you and my mouth on you?”

“Yes, fuck—“

“So give it to me, cariño. Give me a good one, c’mon—“

You can’t help but, especially when you hear the Texan accent slip in his words; your walls flutter around his fingers, tension boiling over at last, and you hold onto him tighter as he helps ride out your orgasm. He’s painfully hard at this point, but he soldiers through, focusing solely on you.

As the waves of pleasure simmer down, you notice the bulge in his jeans, and you reach again to unzip him. Javier groans, the little contact sending a rush of adrenaline through him already, and he could be ashamed of how hard he is, how painful it is even to touch his happy trail, not to mention the tip of his cock, beads of precum oozing out of it already. You swipe your thumb over the tip, earning another grunt from his side, and Javier barely breathes at this point.

“Say it,” he encourages, and you know what he’s saying.

“I want you inside me.”

You begin to stroke him, but Javier catches your wrist in a tight grip, lips pursed together as he’s looking down on you. “Don’t,” he warns. “I’m gonna cum in five seconds if you do this.”

“So?”

“I wanna come when I’m inside you.”

It shouldn’t sound this alluring, like it’s some forbidden ecstasy when it’s not, not anymore.

He pushes your legs further apart, guiding his cock to your swollen entrance. You both gasp at the rush, the unmatched feeling of his thick cock pushing past your sensitive walls. Javier stares in awe as he pushes in, the sight of you engulfing your cock altogether absolutely maddening.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he says. “So tight.”

“Javi—shit—“

“So good… so pretty like this, with my cock inside you.”

He’s buried inside you to the hilt, every inch of him thick and throbbing in you, not even moving yet and you’re both over the edge. He’s still half dressed, so you reach to unbutton his shirt, exposing his golden-kissed skin to you as you begin to press light kisses on his neck and chest, causing him to grunt.

And then he start to move.

He’s snapping his hips against yours, the pace not too slow, yet not too fast; it’s more than enough for you to feel him, to take him in inch by inch. This is desperate, needy, and you both relish into it. You’re clearly both deprived, and neither of you can last long. Javier’s grunts and moans are a dead giveaway that he’s close.

“You’re taking me so g-good—“Javier groans. “S’tight—and warm. You’re so good, cariño.”

Thrust after thrust, the squelching sound emerging from in between your legs joined by the slap of his balls against the curve of your ass downright obscene, building to the tension even more.

You’re not sure how you get in this position, but suddenly you’re atop of him, snug and full, riding him till you both reach that sweet moment of release that you so eagerly desire. Javier buries his head in between your breasts, kissing your sternum as you rock yourself up and down on his cock.

“That’s it, cariño—keep going—take what you want—“

“Javi—Javiii—“

His name becomes a prayer on your lips, the only word you know how to say in this moment. His hands reach around to grab handfuls of your ass as you bounce on him, and then something clicks. It burns and aches, and he moans louder, unable to send another warning to you.

“You’re doing so good—s’perfect—perfect, beautiful… fuck, fuck, yes—“

His thrusts meet you halfway and he finally comes with a loud grunt, holding you up on his cock, the sensation triggering your own orgasm again. Sweat clings to your bodies, and you hug each other tightly, your breasts pressed flat against his chest as your mouths meet. The kiss is slow, just as your bodies move now in sated bliss. You smile into it, and you only pull back to look at Javier. He’s smiling too, and you brush through the sweaty curls at the back of his head. You feel him everywhere, in between your legs, in your bones, and on your skin.

“I love you,” you tell him, kissing his nose and forehead.

Javier melts in your embrace, his cock softening inside you as he pulls out. He keeps you close, as if still afraid of losing you somehow.

“I love you too,” he replies, and for the first time in his life, he feels it to be the truest thing he’s ever said.

previous | next 

[fireandblood-xxii]

The AOT Crew Goes to Disney World! 🫶🏼

All the shenanigans that would go on if the worlds saddest crew went to the happiest place on Earth

includes: Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Levi, Erwin, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Zeke, and Reiner. Totally SFW. Fluffy hcs ahead 💞

Eren

Fights thru crowds to be the first in line at all his rides, and eventually forces the crew to all get fast passes bc he’s sick and tired of waiting

Goes to the spinning tea cups and spins his way too fast that he physically cannot stand and nearly vomits all over himself

Mikasa has to carry him over her shoulder after that for a little while

And he still literally has no self control after this, he’ll go on a rollercoaster regardless if he’s just eaten and stuffed himself to the brim. He’ll just takes the L and vomit it all up afterwards

Instead of getting Mickey ears like everyone else, he gets a Kylo Ren cape and helmet

Has Mikasa on his shoulders during the parade so that she can get a better view of all the floats and characters :’)

Mikasa

Gets a Disney Princess makeover!! She gets the full Snow White transformation and Eren just skdjsjsjjs he’s beside himself

She convinces Eren to do the novelty drawings where they make their heads and features all huge and exaggerated; she treasures it forever ;u;

Keeps an eye at Eren at all times and gets jealous when all the Disney princesses get flirty with him

She buys Eren a Mickey balloon under the guise of a sweet little gift but really she uses it as a tracker to know where he’s at at all times if she happens to lose sight of him

Armin

A little girl mistook him as Cinderella and thought he was so pretty lmaooo everyone was making fun of him after that, poor bby

Tries to carefully plan out the day ahead, constantly checking the Disney app to check wait times, arranges when and where they should stop for meals, snacks and hydration stations, and even schedules around shows!!

Checks the gift shops to buy him, Eren, and Mikasa Disney friendship bracelets :’)

His favorite ride in the whole park is Soarin’ and wants to ride ALL the water rides

Whenever he spots a commemorative plaque for a statue or location of the park, he has to stop and read bc the history/story behind it fascinates him. He just likes to know things

Levi

Dad #1 of the group

He has to make sure all his children are in line and none of them get lost

The cast members make him stand up against the “you have to be this tall to ride” board each and every time to make sure that he fits the height requirement

He quickly gets sick of the ridicule and just waits on everyone outside of every ride with all their drinks and toys

The group’s solution to this is to buy Levi a pair of Tinkerbell Mickey Ears to “add height”… he is not amused but he wears them anyway

He and Mikasa take a photo with Snow White and the seven now eight dwarves… “But Levi there is only ONE Grumpy… SMILE!!” “Tch… shut the hell up.”

Erwin

Dad #2 of the group

Has to make sure Dad #1 doesn’t lose his ducking mind

He made matching t-shirts for the entire crew!!! They all say “Survey Corp: Disney World 2022” in glittery letters and everyone’s name is on the back of their shirts. Except his says “Dad #2” and Levi “Dad #1” The emblem on the shirt are the Wings of Freedom and they have Mickey ears on themskskskksks

Also wearing the typical dad fit— khaki shorts with the shirt tucked, New Balance trainers, Fanny pack, and you can see streaks of sunscreen across his nose bc p r o t e c t i o n!

At one point, Connie accidentally falls and scrapes his knee and Daddy Erwin SPRINGS into action, grabbing a Mickey Mouse bandaid from his first aid kit

He takes photos and videos of everything and everyone like the proud dad that he is

Gets Walkie Talkies to be in constant communication with Levi:

Erwin on the walkie, to Levi who is literally only 10 ft ahead of him: I got eyes on Splash Mountain, I’m estimating about a 60 minute wait, should return at 1600 hrs. Over.

Levi, on the walkie, glaring back at Erwin: Fine, but we’re getting something to eat after this is over

Erwin: After this is what, Levi? I didn’t quite get that. Over.

Levi: You heard what I said Erwin, quit playing this shitty game

Erwin: You have to say ‘over’ when you’re finished speaking, Levi, otherwise I won’t hear you. Over.

Levi: EVEN AFTER IVE JUST ENDED THE SENTENCE WITH ‘OVER’ , I SAY IT AGAIN?

Erwin: Say what again? Over.

Levi: …I hate you. Over.

Erwin: No you don’t. Over.

Sasha

Would IMMEDIATELY get a Mickey Pretzel

Then you’d see her double fisting the huge churros. She looks like a Churro walrus as she stuffs her face with both at the same time

The guys eventually have to get her a child leash backpack to keep her from running amok on all the food stands

Also gets a Disney Princess Makeover!!! She gets the Belle transformation. So cute ;u; Nic would be all over her, saying he’s her Prince Adam

Her feet start to hurt from all the walking and wearing the wrong shoes, so Nic’s solution it to get her giant plush Minnie slippers. “ITS LIKE IM WALKING ON CLOUDS HHHHH”

HAS to take a photo kissing Nic in front of Cinderella’s castle <3 (group vomit ensues)

Ofc gets special souvenirs for each of her little siblings and her parents!!

Connie

HAS to get the classic Mickey cap and ears with his name embroidered across the forehead

Forced Sasha to take pictures with him and Chip and Dale and it was the cutest shit ever. Double twinning!! :’)

Then he has Jean take a pic with him in front of Cinderella’s castle doing the “I’m flying, Jack!” Titanic pose. Jean is Jack and Connie is Rose with his arms spread like a bird.

Calls his mom at the end of every day to tell her how much fun he’s having, about all the shows and attractions, the characters he’s met, and the food he’s eat. She’s SOO happy to hear from him but always bugs him to make sure he’s wearing sunscreen, staying safe, and looking out for Sasha and Jean

Jean

Acts totally unimpressed by the Disney Magic but eventually it overcomes him, and by the time they settle in to watch Mickey’s Magic parade and firework show he is SOOOOO pumped

Is one of the first to get drunk at Epcot because he “Drinks Around the World” and then tries to climb to the top of the Epcot globe.

Levi puts an end to that real quick and basically water boards Jean to sober him up

He gets a commemorative collector’s pin both to signify his first trip to Disney World and honor his fallen friend, Marco, who he knows would have LOVED the trip himself. He keeps that pin on his person at all times now

Zeke

He was super excited about this vacation because he saw it as an opportunity to bond with his little brother, and do all the things he would’ve loved to do with Eren if they got to grow up together

When they go to animal kingdom, everytime they come across an ape exhibit or a Jungle Book themed area, the guys point and laugh. “LOOK ZEKE IT’S YOU”

“Damn, it smells like shit in this park… what the fuck, Zeke?”

This quickly grows old and he just becomes pouty the entire time

He and Eren get light sabers in Star Wars land and re-enact a fight scene, light saber sound effects and all; Zeke uses the force to choke Eren. “Eren I am…. Your brother”. “NOOOOO”.

Gets himself a Darth Vader robe and helmet to complete his look

Makes ONE (1) joke to Levi about him being Baby Yoda and damn near lost his front teeth

Reiner

Falls in love with the Cinderella actress and as they’re taking a photo, he actually gets down on one knee to propose to her; she thinks it’s a joke, he does not

Takes lots and lots of photos and gets a ton of souvenirs to give to Gabi and Falco since they weren’t able to come :’)

At one point he FaceTimes his kiddos to show them all the cool stuff they’re missing out on 😭 they get sooooo jealous

This trip actually does wonders for him, being around such uplifting Disney magic, he comes back from the trip with a much sunnier and joyous disposition and everyone can tell. It’s like it healed his severely damaged inner child

And at first his PTSD sorta prevents him from riding some of the rides, but by the end of it he’s calling dibs for all the front row seats on the coasters and having the time of his life

other random hc:

They keep all the photos they take from riding the rides; in all of them, you see Connie and Sasha screaming their damn heads off, Zeke looks like he’s about to puke, Armin may have passed out ones or twice, and the rest are just smiling with their hands up

They get a good laugh out of the ones where someone is making a stupid expression

Everyone is soooo exhausted at the end of the trip and knocked out during the car ride home, except for Sasha who is beggingggggg Erwin to stop at McDonalds for a late night snack

But Sasha we have food at home

The food at home: 🥔🥔🥔🍞🍞🍞

It was definitely a vacation everyone needed. So they could let loose and remember what it was like to have real fun. Everyone’s inner child was healed this trip :’)

Will add more as I think of them :’)

[silversatoru]

Ok ok- don’t judge me but get this- College AU, Where Ereh and his friends all go to a nearby maid cafe and turns out his s/o works there, and his s/o is wearing a EXTREMELY short maid outfit and she starts to flirt with Eren’s friends, and basically Eren had enough and dragged his s/o to a bathroom stall, and fucked them calling y/n their little slut, etc. and fucked them so hard they couldn’t work the rest of the day- BYE- 🏃🏻‍♀️ 💨 🚪

maid cafe

a/n: i would never judge you for this???? your mind is incredible and this idea has corrupted my brain for days,, please send more of your wonderful ideas to my inbox. and please let me know what u think bc i truly hope i did u proud

eren yeager x female maid cafe!reader

synopsis: eren and his friends go to a maid cafe and his new girlfriend is their waitress — so he drags her to the bathroom and makes sure she knows who she belongs to

tags/warnings: smut, dom/sub, degrading, mild humiliation, mirror sex, public sex, mentions of drug use

word count: 3.4k

“hey, we should check out that maid cafe downtown. i heard the waitresses are fine,” jean smirked as he proposed the idea, passing a blunt he’d just finished rolling over to eren.

eren graciously accepted the weed, but clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at jean’s new idea for their friday night. a maid cafe wasn’t particularly up his alley -- he’d just started dating you a few weeks ago and didn’t have any interest in drooling over other women all night. but he was bored and if everyone else wanted to go, he supposed he’d tag along too.

“hell yeah, pretty girls in short skirts sounds good to me,” connie jived, a giddy smile on his face as he blew out some smoke from his own blunt.

“don’t you think that kind of place is a little disrespectful, guys? we shouldn’t view women as-”

“you’re too uptight armin, maybe we can find a nice girl to suck you off and loosen you up a little bit” jean laughed and cut him off as the blonde boy continued to give his immature friends a disapproving look.

“whatever i’m in, just let me finish this first,” eren held up his blunt and took another long drag, “i wont be able to stand you assholes all night if im not high”.

the four of them hung around their shared four-bedroom college apartment a little longer, finishing up their smoke sesh and flinging half-assed insults at one another. the sky was already getting dusky by the time they actually left and were walking through the small, bustling town surrounding their campus. the cafe wasn’t too far, maybe a thirty minute walk, but it was a beautiful spring night and shit, gas is expensive.

armin’s face was horribly flushed when they finally arrived and entered the front door, the poor boy completely unable to even make eye contact with the hostess standing in front of them. his shyness earned him a swift elbow from eren — his way of telling the blonde boy to relax a little bit.

the young hostess spoke to them in a sing-song tone, her hair perfectly curled to frame her face and her cheeks pink with blush. connie and jean completely ate up everything she was doing, gawking at her like a bunch of losers who hadn’t gotten laid in way too long — which is exactly what they were. eren was almost relieved when she finally sat them at a table and walked away, because he couldn’t stand to listen to jeans' horrendous attempt at flirting any longer.

everything on the menu had cute names that matched the theme of the cafe, and while eren and armin browsed the options, connie and jean continued to whisper about the different waitresses and which one they hoped they got.

as for you, it had been a pretty uneventful night, normal customers and nothing too crazy — that was until you walked up to the newest table you were assigned and saw your boyfriend and his friends sitting around the booth. eren and you hadn’t been dating all that long, a few weeks at most, and you hadn’t even met any of these friends yet. anxiety began to pool in your chest, but you tried your best to put on your best voice and greet them like they were any other table — after all, eren was staring so intently at the menu that he hadn't even noticed you yet.

“welcome home, masters! can i get any drinks for you?” you push your voice up to a high octave and make sure to draw out the word masters — it was the opening line that every waitress was required to use by the cafe.

two of the four boys are ogling at you so intensely that they might as well have drool hanging off their desperate lips. a third boy is keeping his eyes fixated on the table as if he doesn’t want to look at you — which is something you’re not quite used to. and eren is staring at you with his mouth gaping open, which he quickly shuts before any of his friends can notice.

he decided to sit back and watch, an amused look on his face as you continue to flaunt your extra-girly facade. he decides that now isn’t a great time for introductions to his bonehead friends — plus he knows you’re nothing like this in real life, so it’s entertaining to watch you act so out of character.

not to mention you look hot as fuck in your skimpy maid outfit — the tight corset-like top hugged your breasts perfectly and your skirt was so short he could practically see the base of your ass cheeks. he could definitely get used to seeing you like this.

but his amusement quickly started to fade as connie and jean shamelessly showered you in compliments and flirted with you like their lives depended on it. and what makes it worse is you’re playing along — he gets that it’s your job but still, can’t you just tell them to shut the fuck up?

he shoots the two idiots across from him a dirty look as soon as you walk away, “hey dumbasses, cut the girl a break”.

“hey man, i didn't hear you call dibs or anything,” connie raised an eyebrow at him.

“yeah dude, we’re just fucking around, chill,” jean added, a light laugh hanging off his last word.

eren couldn’t do anything but roll his eyes in response. he didn’t want to outright expose your relationship yet but he wouldn’t be able sit here and watch this all night either.

his blood was practically boiling when you returned with a tray full of their drinks. connie and jean turned their charms right back on for you, and fuck, if he had to hear you call them “master” one more time he was gonna lose his mind.

“armin get the fuck out of the booth,” he glared at the blonde boy, practically pushing him out of the booth so he could get to you.

armin yet out a small yelp, clambering out of his seat and letting eren climb out after him. the dark haired boy gave you the sweetest smile, but his eyes were lit up like flames.

“hey, mind showing me where the bathrooms are?”

you find yourself frozen in place for just a second, but quickly recover and give him a quick “of course master, follow me!”

the two of you walk to the bathroom in silence, but you can practically feel the heat radiating off of eren.

when you reached the restrooms you opened the door for him and bowed your head, but he grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside behind him, earning a small yelp from you. you noticed him snap the lock down behind him, and before you could even question his motives you were backed into a wall with his lips working roughly against yours.

“so this is what you do all day? walk around with your ass hanging out while calling people master?” he growled in your ear while moving down towards your neck and placing violent kisses along the sensitive skin.

“i- ah- if it bothers you-“ you breath out between gasps, your hands pressed defensively to his chest, “god, you reek of pot, eren”.

“no, it doesn't bother me, i love watching you flirt with other men. but let me remind you who you actually belong to now,” he murmured, voice dripping with sarcasm as he nibbled up to your ear and his hands fondled with the zipper at the back of your uniform.

“eren!” a strangled yelp leapt from your throat as he unzipped you and let your costume fall around your ankles.

for a second you thought about trying to stop him, but his hot lips against your cool skin was starting to win you over. your neck was undoubtedly covered in bruised love marks now, your skin aching in the most beautiful way.

“take it all off,” he mumbled into your ear as he snapped the strap of your bra against your skin.

“we’re in a bathroom eren, i don’t-“ you tried to reason with him, but any inkling of a rational thought was long gone from his mind.

“what’s with all the protests? you had no problem following orders when my friends were the ones giving them,” he cocked an eyebrow at you and lifted his loose shirt over his head in one swift motion.

you could have retorted or made a jab back at him, but your attention was caught up in the perfect lines of eren’s physique. between the sculpted curves of each of his muscles, his dark hair tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck, and the evil smirk across his lips, you were rendered indefensible. everything about eren was so intoxicating, and the idea of letting him have his way with you right now, in this bathroom, was starting to sound less and less like a bad idea. you weren’t sure how long you’d been staring and admiring when his lusty voice filled your ears again.

“did you forget how to use that pretty mouth of yours? i’m sure i can give you a little refresher,” he faked a frown and pointed to the floor with his index finger.

without a shred of reluctance you sunk to his feet. he had you in a state of utter compliance now, and all he had to do was mutter a few arrogant words and take off his shirt — you were almost ashamed, almost.

after a few smooth movements of his fingers against the drawstrings of his sweats, the tip of his member was hanging mere centimeters from your face. you glanced up at him with giant eyes as he stared down at you with his clouded ones. between his raging hunger for your body and the high that was still clouding his mind, there wasn't a single coherent thought in eren’s head other than the way your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“open up, princess. if you wanna act like a slut, i’ll treat you like one,” he grabbed the back of your head and forced it forward.

your lips parted without even thinking, and he thrusted his full length down your throat without any warning. you were left coughing and sputtering, the walls of your throat constricting against his cock and sending a few curses from his lips.

he slowed down slightly after that, but kept a steady pace as he mouth-fucked you until tears were leaking down your cheeks. you were gagging and coughing and your face was stained with salty saline but you loved every second of it. his head rolled back as raspy grunts fell from between his teeth, his fist tightening at your scalp.

after he thought you’d finally had enough he pulled back and released your hair from his steel grip. his cock was aching now, coated in a thick layer of your sticky saliva and yearning for more.

“get on the counter,” he ordered, and you scrambled to your feet in a way that was embarrassingly desperate.

you boosted yourself up onto the cool countertop, positioned perfectly between two sinks and leaning back against the mirror. eren placed a firm grip on each of your legs, shoving them open and snickering at the slick patch of fabric between your thighs.

“you like being treated like a whore, don’t you?” he clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and reached down at your panties before yanking them off in one fell swoop.

he squatted down so his face was level with your cunt, sticking out his tongue and dragging it up to your clit with antagonizing slowness. he moved the warm muscle up and down, sliding it between your folds and in circles around your clit — but his tongue was just barely making contact. and every time you bucked your hips towards him, begging and yearning for just a little more he’d pull his head back and click his tongue at you.

you were aching, leaking, and so incredibly needy for him and he knew it. he’d transformed you into the crumpled mess laying before him in a matter of minutes, and he was very proud of it.

“i’d start begging if i were you, or i’ll leave you here like this — a stupid broken slut with no one to fuck her,” he stood up and cocked his head to the side before beginning to tease your entrance with a single finger.

“ah- eren, please! i’ll do whatever you want,” you whimpered at him, a pitiful look on your face.

“eren? you know you’re not supposed to call customers by their name here,” he shook his head, “you’ll have to do better than that”.

“please- master, use me however you want. just please fuck me already”.

that seemed to suffice for eren, because after that it didn’t take long for him to shealth himself inside you and have your sweaty back slamming into the glass mirror behind you. strangled moans and pitiful whimpers slipped from between your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head in complete bliss. he’d teased and tormented you for so long that the sudden intense stimulation was almost too much.

he fucked himself into you so hard you thought you might break — your legs ached and your back hurt from awkwardly leaning into the mirror. but those feelings were quickly pushed to the back of your head because the overwhelming pleasure was so forceful that you could barely focus on anything else. eren’s length was grinding deep into your aching caverns so good that it was completely clouding your brain.

you let out a stifled gasp when he abruptly pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more.

“why-,” your voice was so destitute and so, so desperate.

“shut up and stand in front of me,” he commanded, pulling you off the counter and twisting you so you were facing the bathroom mirror.

“look at yourself in the mirror and watch me fuck you,” he practically snarled, placing a palm on your back and pushing your chest down against the counter, “look at how much of a slut you are for me”.

the only response that came out of your mouth was a tiny whine of acceptance — it was pathetic.

a breathy moan fell from your lips as he slid back in, and your cheeks blushed a dark shade of red as you watched yourself get fucked from behind. it was embarrassing, humiliating even, having to see yourself like this, but what made it even worse was that you fucking liked it.

“look at yourself,” he nodded towards the mirror, picking up his pace and tightening his grip on your hips, “just a dumb whore who’s good for nothing but taking orders from other people”.

“only- you!” you let out a strangled yelp.

“what was that? i don’t think i heard you,” he thrusted hard, reaching deeper than he had the entire time and then leaning over your back so his head was positioned right next to yours.

“say it again,” he murmured, burning holes through your eyes with how intensely he was staring at you in the mirror.

“i’m a dumb whore, but only for- you,” you repeated, squirming and whining at the painful pleasure he was forcing into you.

“that’s right,” he flashed you a satisfied grin, standing back up and resuming his original pace.

the sudden shift had you clawing at the smooth countertops — desperately wishing you had a pillow or sheet to grasp onto for some kind of support. you flinched when you felt a couple of his cool fingertips find your clit, immediately rubbing hasty circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“i want you to come for me,” he locked eyes with you in the mirror again, “and i want you to think about how i’m the only one who will ever make you feel this good the entire time”.

his words were harsh but they sounded like honey when they flowed through your pathetically devoted ears. between his consistent thrusts and the pads of his fingers working their magic, you were a pitiful mess of whimpers and moans in a matter of minutes. your body twitching and legs shaking as you mumbled his name over and over — it was the only word your brain could comprehend right now.

seeing you like that nearly pushed eren over the edge himself, but he forced himself to last a little longer, wanting to milk your orgasm for everything that it was. he was genuine when he said no one else would ever make you feel the way he could — your head was spinning and your body was on a high that felt like it would never end.

only once your body finally fell limp and tired, signifying that your climax had ended, did he pull out and spray his seed all over your exposed back. you were a sticky, sweaty mess and your legs didn’t have the strength to stand even after eren was done coming down from his own high.

your face was buried in your arms when you felt a wet paper towel cleaning up the mess of semen off your back. eren tossed the towel into the garbage and wrapped his arms under your torso so he could help your pitiful self stand up. you let out a few pained whimpers, stumbling into his arms and wrapping your hands around his neck.

“that bad, huh? how are you gonna go back out there and work for all your masters? i’m sure they’re waiting,” he smirked at you, and there was no sympathy in his voice.

“i- i don’t think i can,” you whined, clinging to him as your legs continued to shake underneath you.

eren shook his head and clicked his tongue, helping you over to your clothes and assisting you with getting back into your uniform. even after getting dressed your legs refused to work — you were a shaky, stumbling mess. you sat in a pitiful heap against the tiled wall while you watched eren get his own clothes back on.

“i think you might need a new job,” he snickered, squatting down and lifting you onto his back once he was dressed.

you graciously climbed onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck and burying your face into his neck, “yeah, yeah i’ll get a new job”.

“good idea, because everyone’s about to see how pathetic you are as we walk through the cafe,” he wrapped his arms back under your backside to support your weight.

“there’s a back exit right down the hall, please take that one,” you begged, “please”.

“well. since you asked so nicely and did so well i guess you deserve that,” he complied, exiting the bathroom and following your directions to the back door.

but because you have the worst luck in the world, one of the cafe managers came walking right around the corner just as the two of you were about to leave. you buried your head deeper into eren’s neck, unbearable amounts of embarrassment and shame flooding your veins.

“hey man, she quits, sorry!” eren yelled and handled it for you, dashing out the back door before the manager could even comprehend what he’d just seen.

“thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, and you were truly thankful that you didn’t have to speak for yourself in there.

“no problem, princess,” he adjusted one of his hands so he could squeeze your ass, making you jump against his back, “let’s head back to my house for round two, yeah?”

“r-round two?” you stuttered.

you could barely handle round one, and he was ready to go again? how!?

“i’m joking, relax. let’s go watch a movie or something,” he chuckled, hoisting you higher on his back and beginning your long walk back to his apartment.

you sighed and sunk into his back, that sounded nice. there was a huge difference in how eren acted earlier and how he was acting now, but you were a sucker for both personalities. you expected college to consist of classes and work and maybe a few new friends but meeting eren yeager was sure to make it a lot more interesting.

[mimiwrites2000]

Blue Meeting Blue

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

Side Pairings: Jean x Pieck / Gabi x Falco:

Words count: 2010

* spoilers for ending of  manga

inspired by this fanart by Bella (_superspicy on twitter)

Summary:

When Annie looked in his eyes, the world stopped spinning, time froze, air halted. The waves in the ocean quietened, the forests' rustles ceased, and the wind subsided. For a moment, peace engulfed the world, the chaotic place wrapped in a fragile silence.

To witness the blossoming love in the youthful hearts.

the day of their wedding was finally here, Armin and Annie, the world waiting for them, and they were ready to face it, as one.

Husband and wife.

a one-shot about Aruani wedding, based on fanart by Bella (_superspicy on twitter)

His heart drummed in his ears. The lump in his throat enlarged into a coarse rock, impossible to swallow. His throat tight on his windpipes he could barely breathe.

He tried to compile the tips he read a few days earlier; deeply breathing and a smile.

He failed miserably at both.

“Armin?” 

He brushed his suit.

“Armin?”

He shifted his weight from one feet to the other.

“Armin!”

“Yes!” Armin jumped, searching around him, catching a few glances from the small crowd.

“Why are you not responding?”

Armin turned around and-

“Oh, Connie, I’m sorry, I’m just- you know, I was just-” Armin shook his head, waiting for Connie to somehow decipher the concoction of words he threw at him.

“It’s ok,” Connie chuckled, running his hand up and down Armin’s back, “it’s your wedding, it’s ok to be nervous.”

Armin thought about it for a moment, clicking his sharp crispy shoes on the wooden floor: “I’m not… I’m not nervous…”

“Excited?” Connie retorted, raising an expecting eyebrow at Armin.

At that, Armin blushed.

“Oh come on,” Connie laughed, nudging Armin, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Armin turned around, combing his hair down with his palms, his eyes scrutinizing the invited. Less than twenty people seated in rows, the joyous anticipating guests shifted in their seats, smiling at Armin and waving. The humble place densed with close friends and family. As ambassadors, their compulsory position obliged them to have another big, huge wedding, inviting the allied nations and every political face ever. A just-for-show kind of celebration, glazed in fake smiles and formalities. Armin and Annie had an innate dislike for these occasions. But they would have to do it either way. For now, they would live every moment of this homely, small wedding. 

They didn’t go venue hunting. Historia offered her own warehouse (that was attached to her farm house) to hold their wedding; they couldn’t say no to that. 

The warehouse transformed into a cozy, traditional hall, rows of velvety pink chairs aligned in straight lines, breaking in the middle to form a path overlayed with a shiny white carpet, leading up to where Armin was waiting. White flowers decorating the humble place, with golden fabric draped in soft curves. It gave off the family atmosphere Armin and Annie strived for. 

They couldn’t have it any better.

Gabi and Falco settled in the last row, Falco shamelessly and most likely unaware of himself openly-swooning over Gabi, both in summer outfits, Gabi’s dress flowered from the top to the bottom, Falco clad in a brown modern suit. Gabi was either oblivious to Falco’s hypnotized state, or she acted oblivious. Armin decided it was the latter.

Jean was sitting beside Pieck, facing away from each other. Armin sighed, they probably got into another fight. Since they started dating two years ago, their relationship had been on and off all the time.

Armin moved on, but the movement of Pieck’s hand took his attention. Slowly, she slithered her hand next to Jean’s, touching it slightly… a moment passed, before Jean sighed, intertwining their fingers.

Armin couldn’t stop the smile pulling at his lips.

A few seats next to them sat Reiner, his mom by his side, passionately whispering something in his ear. Reiner looked so out of it. 

When Reiner noticed Armin’s eyes, he smiled, paying him a small wave, with a gesture to his ring finger.

Ah

His mother’s whispers were nothing but pestering him about when he’ll get married. Armin laughed, shaking his head.

Armin’s eyes halted on the first seat at the far right, where his childhood friend sat, clad in a crimson red dress, her hair touching her shoulder, a dust of make up adorning her face. Mikasa smiled at Armin, a proud smile. The proud-mom-smile she wore whenever he did anything she was proud of.

She was proud of everything he did, every single thing he did since they were only nine.

He waved at her, she nodded in response.

He could never forget Mikasa’s reaction when he told her he would propose to Annie.

The tears, the hugs.

Happiness overflowed out of her.

But soon enough, they both crumbled on the floor, hugging each other, sobbing, lamenting whispers escaping them. Eren’s name slipped every now and then.

Armin swallowed, looking at his feet. The bitter sweet roughness of that night would remain in his mind for as long as he lived.

Someone joined the seat beside Mikasa.

It was Hitch.

Gorgeous.

Armin thought. She did look so pretty, her hair slightly curled, in an off the shoulder navy dress that overflowed in a soft skirt.

She waved at him, he smiled and nodded.

Then she winked, raising her thumbs.

Armin furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t understand, but nodded anyway.

Connie was having enough of Armin’s ignoring game; he cleared his throat and said: “Hey, by the way, how did you ask Mr. Leonhart for his blessings?”

“Oh, uh, well…” Armin started, flashbacks of that day at the forefront of his mind.

Even though they had been engaged for over a year, Armin still remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

Well…

“Well, he said that if I don’t treat Annie well, he will take my life with his own hands,” Armin said, shrugging his shoulders, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What?” 

“Yeah, I mean, it was easier than I thought, if I’m being honest with you.” 

“Oh God.”

“No it’s not that shocking, besides, he supported me and Annie from the beginning,” Armin replied.

“I can’t believe it,” Connie’s eyes fixated on a spot behind Armin.

“Well, I don’t know what you exactly think of Mr. Leonhart, but-”

Connie clicked his tongue, pointing behind Armin.

Armin turned around and-

It was her.

“Annie…” he whispered.

Standing there, arms tangled by her father's.

A simple dress, a peasant dress; puffy sleeves with ruffled edges that beautified her updo hair. Pastel pink contouring the dress’s folds, adding a variant of flowery accents to it. A tight brown bodice hugged her waist, making the flowy skirt finely pleated into cascading silky waves. Something about it reminded Armin of a field of pink flowers in a spring afternoon.

The slight blush on her cheeks, her bangs framing her face, boldening her beauty.

The memory of gazing at a crystal in a cold basement from a few years ago struck Armin.

But the cold was replaced by warmth.

A warmth that traveled from Armin's toes to the tip of his nose, a feeling he never experienced before. He wanted to scream, jump in his spot, like a toddler in a candy store, but he also wanted to hug himself, cage himself in a corner, and cry.

When Annie looked in his eyes, the world stopped spinning, time froze, air halted.

The waves in the ocean quietened, the forests' rustles ceased, and the wind subsided.

For a moment, peace engulfed the world, the chaotic place wrapped in a fragile silence.

To witness the blossoming love in the youthful hearts.

The warmth reached Armin's eyes, his sight blurring.

His lungs caught fire, and despite feeling suddenly hot, his hands were freezing cold.

A thousand thoughts swarmed his mind in the short period of Annie walking up to him. It took approximately a minute, perhaps two, but for Armin, it felt like eternity. A labyrinthine he was very willingly getting lost in.

When she reached him, at the altar, not a single breath left him. His sight was blurry and eyes burning. His whole body shook with every sob he tried to suppress.

Someone held his hand, Armin looked down, and through his blurry eyes, he saw Mr. Leonhart’s gripping his hand, his hold a bit tight.

Mr. Leonhart took Armin’s hand, raising it. In his other hand, he held his daughter’s hand.

He guided Annie’s hand to Armin’s, placing them on each other, before clasping them in his strong grasp, holding them for a while. He looked at Annie, nodded at her with a smile, before he turned his gaze to Armin.

Mr. Leonhart leaned towards Armin, whispering in his ear: “I would kill you.”

Armin laughed, though his mouth opened but no voice came out.

Mr. Leonhart descended, walking to his seat, dabbing at his eyes.

At that moment, Armin’s world muted into a deafening, incomprehensible line. He took Annie’s hands in his. His eyes went up, from their intertwined hands, up to her collarbone; she wore a simple necklace, a small, silver circular metal hanging from it.

To anyone who wasn’t familiar with Annie, it looked like a normal necklace. 

But it wasn’t.

It was her ring.

Her infamous ring.

Armin’s wandering eyes reached Annie’s.

Blue meeting blue.

And that was the last trigger.

Sobs escaped Armin’s lips. He cried, tears flowing and cascading on his cheeks. He didn’t want to cry, it made his eyesight blurry and he wanted to see Annie clearly. He brought his elbow to his eyes, wiping his tears, only for new ones to flood.

He tried to stop them, gritting his teeth, biting at the inside of his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut.

He couldn’t, all his attempts leading to more sobs and tears.

Warm hands on his face made him flutter his eyes open. With a handkerchief, Annie softly dabbed at his cheeks, a smile small on her lips. Her eyes were glistening as well.

Armin focused on her eyes, and slowly, took deep breaths.

Sobs subsided, and tears stopped streaming down his face, clearing his vision.

She cupped his face in her hands, and brought him down, capturing his lips on her own, a quick kiss, lingering for a bit. Armin kissed her back, closing his eyes briefly, before she pulled away. She pulled far enough to look into his eyes, but close enough to feel his breath on her face.

“Ahem ahem.”

Both almost jumped at the sound, turning their heads. The priest stood there, a smile on his lips.

Only then did Armin and Annie realize that the small crowd was giggling.

“You jumped off a few steps there,” the priest said, nudging his head towards them, eliciting extra chuckles from the crowd.

Armin pressed his lips, looking at Annie. She was already looking at him, her lips pressed as well. They exploded in a fit of laughter, before they calmed down, and the ceremony went on.

From the priest’s concise sentences, Armin presumed that the priest knew that Annie and him couldn’t wait to get married.

Rings slipped in their fingers, in their left hands, so smoothly, as if they were always meant to be.

Armin’s heart beating faster as they tiptoed closer to the ending of the wedding.

“And now,” the priest announced, taking a step back, “you, Armin Arlert, may now kiss the bride!”

They held each other's eyes, before Armin wrapped his arm around Annie’s waist, pulling her closer to him, and kissed her.

They kissed many, many times before.

But that kiss felt different.

Their first kiss as husband and wife.

Armin pressed his lips against Annie’s, feeling her heartbeat against his own wild one.

Cheers and claps erupted from the crowd, quiet sobs mixing with them.

They pulled apart, fighting against the magnetic force drawing them together.

Armin held Annie’s hands in his, running his finger on the ring, glistening in the light.

Annie was his, and he was hers.

“My husband,” she whispered, her voice an inch from breaking into tears.

An involuntary smile pulled at Armin’s lips, before he leaned towards Annie, resting his forehead on hers: “My wife.”

She shook her head, rubbing their foreheads together.

“My wife,” he said again, “my wife,” his voice getting louder, before he turned to the crowd, lifting up their intertwined hands victoriously in the air, screaming out: “my wife!!” 

Laughs and more claps burst, guests standing up in the process.

As the bride took the groom’s arm, the newly married couple made their way, taking a new step in their lives, together, forever and ever. 

.

.

first time writing a wedding, well, that was a wild ride hahahaa

I tried to write the feelings I got when I first saw Bella's fanart, I hope I got them right! this was a sudden one shot that I'm so glad I gave a shot and wrote, it was a very blessing experience thank you so much for reading!! If you guys liked this, I might write a second chapter but from Annie’s pov, sooo tell me what u think uwu aaand of course, any feedback is much appreciated!!

[genuinelydecimated]

Eremin Week 2021 day 6: Childhood

Their wedding was going perfect. Was. The whole day was going perfect until someone decided to bring up the fact that this was technically their second wedding.

AU where Eren and Armin got married twice.

Short story under read more!

“You both were so young,” Eren’s mother sighed happily into her fifth glass of wine. “You had only learnt was a wedding was, and you immediately chose each other.”

Armin watched as his now husband’s cheeks turned pink, matching his own on the tips of his ears.

“Mum!” Eren whisper screamed, but the table laughed along in lighthearted jest.

“Who proposed first?” Connie asked, grinning his trademark mischievous smile.

“Armin did.”

“I did?” Armin gasped.

The rest of the table yelled, “He did?!” at the same time.

Carla nodded, then looked over to Armin’s grandfather, who was also chuckling to himself. His eyes sparkled as he lifted his cup in a half-toast to Carla.

“Oh no,” Armin muttered as he shuffled into his chair a little. His grandfather knows too many embarrassing stories. Add some alcohol and it’s all over.

“He did,” His grandfather spoke like it was just yesterday. “He asked me how to make a ring, so a made one out of flowers that grew outside our house.”

He grabbed one of the flowers from the vase in the middle of the table, nodding slightly to Eren and Armin in apology and thankfulness for letting him use the decoration. Old hands worked the stem like it was child’s play.

“That’s how I learnt it?” Armin asked in awe as his grandfather slipped the flower ring on his pinky. The blond watched as he plucked a flower decoration again, and began to make another. “I thought it was from a book I couldn’t remember!”

The elder man chuckled to himself, deep and hearty. “No, my boy. You learnt it from me. Then you spent hours making the perfect flower ring.”

Armin hid behind his hands as the table gave lighthearted laughter with some ‘aww’s’ in there. He couldn’t remember any of this, but it must’ve been true. It made so much sense.

“And then the next day, Eren was dragging poor Armin by the hand and asking me to make them married right after the proposal,” Carla smiled with those words. “But, of course, you just couldn’t accept it if it was just us, so you made me invite everyone over.”

Armin’s grandfather smiled, wide and toothy, at the memory. “That day the weather was beautiful. Sunshine and a cool breeze. Everyone brought whatever food they could to your wedding since you both insisted on getting married immediately.”

“One of the best lunches we’ve ever had.” Carla added, eyes twinkling.

Mikasa straightened up, and Armin saw a flash of recognition in her eyes. “I remember,” She spoke softly, but managed to grab everyone’s attention. “You bought fought over whether I’d be the bridesmaid or the best man.”

The table howled with laughter as Eren and Armin fell into their hands. Oh my god, embarrassing. This was almost getting too much.

Connie and Sasha were having the time of their lives, picking on and teasing the newly weds with their own additions to their childhood marriage.

Armin felt Eren’s hand over his, bringing them down from his face. Afraid to face the table with his definitely blushing face, he just looked to his husband beside him who was squeezing his hand and rubbing his thumb over the palm.

None of them noticed the table quieting down, enamored with the couple’s complete love and adoration for each other.

“You know,” Carla spoke softer now, nostalgia dripping in her voice. “Even if you two forgot, we didn’t.”

Armin’s grandfather slipped the flower ring off his pinky, and took the both of the new flower rings in his hand. “It might have been a surprise back then, but this time we expected it.”

The wedding pair watched as Armin’s grandfather got up and walked towards them. Their hearts soared as he dropped the two beautiful flower rings on the top of their entertwined hands.

Carla got up too, and kissed the top of their heads before hugging them so close. They’d never say it, but they could feel her hands shaking. Perhaps with pride, or maybe happiness.

The rest of the table, their closest friends, their family, just watched in silence.

“Congratulations Armin and Eren, my two closest friends in the world!” Mikasa spoke out, voice loud and cheery, something so rare and special.

Armin’s head poked out of the hug Carla was still giving, and watched as Mikasa stood up, holding her glass high and proud towards him- towards them.

The entire room cheered, repeating the words. Shouts and screams and happy cries grew in volume.

And for one single moment, an image flashed in Armin’s mind. One with Eren by his side, flower rings on their hands, and their entire family cheering the exact same way on a lovely and warm Spring noon.

[runrundoyourstuff]

Seasons

(A Steven Universe Fic, 2632 words)

Written with love for a holiday exchange with the wonderful @mimik-u !

Prompt: Steven teaches one of the Diamonds about something beautifully mundane (a la Peridot learning about rain.)

--

It’s almost comical how the Dondai pales in size when compared to the Arm Ship—and the magnitude of the difference only grows as Steven descends the ridge. There are some items, both of human and Gem origin, that seemed larger when he was smaller—when he was younger—when everything mysterious in the world, every new thing he learned about himself, filled him with wonder. The Diamond ships, however, are not among these items. They’re as large now as they always seemed to him, if not quite as foreboding. As are the Diamonds themselves, and he is reminded of this, as Yellow disembarks from her spacecraft.

She doesn’t see him right away. Or if she does notice the car, she doesn’t have the frame of reference to recognize it as his, and even after he parks it beside the ship and gets out, it’s several moments before she turns around and acknowledges him standing there.

“Steven!”

“Hey, Yellow.”

“When I called, I hadn’t realized…” She sputters. “Your...your family returned my message to inform me that you were leaving on a conquest—”

“A conquest?”

“Yes, they said that you were going to travel—”

“Yeah, but not on a conquest!”

“Of course, of course, a scouting mission, then—”

“No! Nothing like that! Just a trip! I just...needed to hit the road for a while. Figure out what’s next.”

“I...right, of course. Your—I mean, the Pearl said that you would be taking a hiatus from your Diamond duties…”

At this, Steven chuckles. “Pearl wants me to.” But then he becomes serious. “I shouldn’t laugh. She’s trying to make sure that I take care of myself. She—all of them really, want to make sure I know that I don’t have to be involved in any Gem stuff if I don’t want to. That it’s my choice. And ya know, it’s true that I don’t want it to be my whole life, not like it was when I was a kid. And because there’s no hierarchy anymore, I do want to give other Gems a chance to manage things on Earth if they want to—to show them it doesn’t always have to be a Diamond, and I’m not a Diamond anyway—but I do want to be involved, ya know? Or at least know what’s going on! I put so much work into everything, and not all of it was bad. I was really proud of a lot of what we did, and the Gems are my family…” A pause. “Anyway, that’s all to say that I routed some of the messages from the Base to my phone.”

“I see. I…” She pauses. “I didn’t intend...You did not need to come. I merely called because I didn’t want to catch you off guard. Give your...our...Given my history, I thought if I showed up on your planet unannounced—”

“It’s not my planet.”

“No, of course not. I meant the planet on which you reside. I’ve already...I did not intend to make you feel that…that you needed to come fix—”

Steven raises a hand. “I know. I just happened to be in the area, so I thought I’d stop by. Say hi.”

“Ah. Alright.” The silence resounds. Yellow’s eyes flit away.

“So,” Steven says after a moment—looking for something, anything, to cut through the quiet. “Why Zona?”

“Is that what this place is called?” Yellow glances around. “I needed an area of the Earth where I would cause the least disruptions, where I could dig a sufficiently large hole such that I could access the Cluster. I initially planned on going to one of the Kindergartens, as we’d already irrevocably destroyed all hope of organic life thriving there—I thought I could minimize the destruction. But each already has a fairly extensive subterranean framework that makes it impossible for me to dig deep enough.” She sighs. “I realize this place isn’t perfect. My digging will certainly disrupt some of the plant life. But it appeared at least that there were few humans in the vicinity…”

“Mm.” Steven leads against the hood of his car. “I’m surprised you brought your ship out here and didn’t just Warp. We’re not that far from the Beta Kindergarten, and there’s a Warp there...”

“Those Warps weren’t built for us. We’re much too large.”

“I guess that’s true, but you could always shapeshift.”

“Hmm. I suppose. But there was also the equipment to bring.”

“Equipment?”

“Yes, I...There are...billions of shards in the Cluster. I figured...if I am going to dismantle it and reconstruct each of the Gems whose shards it conatiend, it would likely be easier for me to do it on Earth, rather than bringing all the Shards back to Homeworld. I don’t want to risk losing any of them or damaging any of them even further in transit…And while I may need to ultimately to transport some of them back to Homeworld to locate all the pieces, and though it may be disconcerting for the other Gems to reform on Earth...I…” She leaves the syllable hanging in the air, turns her head away. Steven can just barely make out her tense jaw as though she is gritting her teeth. Sparks radiate from her skin.

“Yellow? Are you...okay?”

“I’m fine!” But then she bows her head, inhales and releases, murmurs: “I apologize, Steven. I am not angry with you. I simply…It has been difficult enough for me to face each of the Gems I have reconstructed on Homeworld. Once they recover from the shock and the terror, they have each looked at me with such disdain. And those Fusion experiments, while they were certainly terrible, pale in comparison to the Cluster. I can only imagine what each of the Gem’s contained within it will feel. And I will deserve it. I hurt so many Gems in the service of the Empire.”

Steven opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Yellow continues, speaking ever rapidly, ever louder, as though desperate to expel the words. “Do not try to assuage my guilty conscience! That...is not your responsibility. I shouldn’t have just put you in a position to think that it was.”

Another tentative backpedaling, Steven thinks. A walking on eggshells moment, like he’s witnessed with the Gems and Dad over the past several months. And difficult though it is for him to sometimes believe, it’s not as though Yellow is wrong, at least not if he trusts his therapist. But there is a distant look in her eye, a panicked tension in her cheeks, which, when coupled with the fact that this is the first time he’s seen her since his breakdown, makes Steven wonder if she is remembering that day on the beach.

His own memories of it are fuzzy-to-nonexistant; he remembers the pain, and the panic, and the anger he’d held despite knowing that he shouldn't. Then, he has a vague impression of multiple embraces, of Connie kissing his forehead, of crying hot, cathartic tears...And then he’d woken up in the Cluster’s hand, with the eyes of most of the people he loved and almost everyone he’d ever fought all on him.

Despite his own lack of recollection, however, Connie assures him that she’d given everyone—the Diamonds included—something of a blunt talking to that day, a rallying speech, but she won’t elaborate on the specifics of what exactly she’d said. Might that—whatever its contents— be behind Yellow’s hasty assurances now?

“Okay,” Steven responds finally. “I won’t try to make you feel less guilty. But can I show you something?”

Yellow furrows her eyebrows. “Very well.”

“It’s just on the top of the canyon.”

They deliberate for a few moments on the details. Yellow offers to carry him, but even if she’s not White, Steven declines being held in a Diamond’s hand, and while she could shapeshift to fit in the passenger seat of the Dondai, she ultimately elects to simply follow behind the car as Steven slowly drives it up the cliff.

They reach the plateau just as the sun begins to dip in the horizon, casting a golden glow over the grass, over the Autumn leaves, just starting to paint themselves with the vibrant shades that return year after year.

Steven opens the door and steps out. “You never spent much time on Earth, did you?”

Yellow considers. “No.”

“Do you know what I think my mom fell in love with about this planet?”

“Organic life, of course. Humans.” She gestures to Steven. “Obviously.”

“Well, yeah, but not just them. Us. I think it was this stuff too.”

Yellow squints. “These weeds?! These...dying outgrowths?!”

“With things that change. Things that grow. There’s so much of it here.”

“Hm.”

Steven paces over to the grass, then sinks down onto it so that it brushes against his bare calves. It’s mostly soft on his skin but there are dryer patches too, scratchier places on the ground as some of the longer areas start to dry out for the season. The sun dips lower in the sky, and it leaks hues of pink and orange onto the daytime canvas of darkening blue. Yellow looms behind him.

“Feel this.” He pats the ground next to him, and tries not to wince as Yellow’s gargantuan hand settles down on the grass. “You might not be able to tell, but it’s growing. Even right now. By the time the snow—frozen water that falls from the sky—starts to cover it in a few months, it’ll probably be a few inches taller than it is right now. And then it’ll take a break for a while, but when Spring comes next year—when the weather gets warmer again—it’ll start again.

“The trees too. Look out there—they grow taller every year, and every year the leaves change into those beautiful colors you can see. And the shades are similar every year, but never exactly the same. Then the leaves fall off, and then bud again and come back. And the trees keep getting taller. And every time the leaves return, the whole tree is a little bit different too.”

Yellow hesitates. “These are familiar to me. Someone, I believe a Peridot—your Peridot—”

“She’s not my Peridot, but I know who you mean.”

“Yes...Well, she brought some of these...trees...from Earth to Homeworld, and determined how best to make them grow there. I’ve been gazing at them through the windows of the palace ever since, but I hadn’t realized how elaborate, how ever-present, their growth cycles were…”

“I’ve lived on Earth my whole life, and I only just started thinking about it recently. It’s easy to take for granted, but it’s really incredible when you stop to think about it.” He angles his head upward. “And it’s not just the plants. Look at the sky. It changes like this every day.” A pause. “Well, it’s really not the sky that’s changing—Connie told me that it’s an effect of how the planet moves around our sun. But from down here on Earth, it looks like it’s always changing. In a different way every day. I don’t think it’s like that on Homeworld.”

Yellow settles next to him at last, squatting, and then kneeling. “It isn’t. Things are constructed on Homeworld—not grown. We have a sun, but our sky does not transform like this.”

“Exactly. And I think that’s why my mom fell in love with the Earth so much. She was so in awe of how everything naturally grew and changed here.” Steven sighs, clenches him gemstone beneath his hand. “I’m still angry at her a lot of the time, but, like, I get it. She saw herself as this monster.” Here Steven pauses, glances away for a moment before finally letting the words return. “And she didn’t think that she was capable of growth or change. All she thought she could do was pretend to be someone else. And then she found herself on this planet where all anything did was grow for real, and she wanted to be a part of that even in some small way, so she made me.”

“Steven…”

“But the point is, she was wrong. She could have grown as herself. I think she did, even if she couldn’t see it. And she and I aren't the only Gems that grew. All of my friends and family have. None of us is the same as we were when I was a kid. Maybe it just took coming to Earth to see that, ya know? Gems can grow and change, just like the trees can, and the grass, and the sky.

“So yeah,” Steven continues. “White hurt you, and you hurt Mom, and Mom hurt Pearl and Garnet and Amethyst and Spinel and you, and everyone she hurt hurt me, and I hurt Jasper and Dad and a lot of people and could have hurt a lot more, and you hurt all the Gems who were corrupted, and who became the Fusion experiments and the Cluster...and that’s all true, and we all have to deal with that and make the things we did wrong right the best that we can. And it’s hard, and it sucks. But the ways we’ve been hurt and hurt other people aren’t all we are. We can grow and change too. As ourselves. I think the Earth is just one big reminder of that.”

Yellow’s brows are once again furrowed, her jaw agape. “I…”

“So, yeah, it’s going to be hard to face all the Gems in the Cluster as you put them all back together. But it’s the right thing to do. And if it ever becomes too much, you can always come up here, and watch the world change and grow to remind yourself that you’re growing too. You’re better than you were, and if you keep working at it, you’ll keep getting better.”

Then, without waiting for Yellow to respond, Steven stands, walks back over to the Dondai. “Now, I gotta hit the road. I want to get to Vegas by tomorrow. It was nice to see you, Yellow.”

“You as well, Steven.” Yellow rises to her feet.

“Good luck,” he calls out the window as he pulls away, and glancing in the rearview mirror, he sees Yellow’s arm raised in farewell, something like a small, apprehensive smile on her lips.

Six months later, after a sojourn up and down the West Coast, Steven returns to the ridge en route back to Beach City for a visit. He pulls up just as the sun is rising over the canyon, glinting off Yellow’s arm ship, and off of the chest and arms and backs of the little gaggle of Gems gathered next to the ship and the adjacent hole. Yellow is not among them, though. She stands on the crest of the cliff, gazing at the trees, at the little buds beginning to spring into being on each branch.

“Steven.” She turns to him in greeting as he gets out of the car.

“You’ve been busy!”

“Yes, we’re progressing nicely.”

“We?”

Yellow nods. “Some of the Gems I reconstructed from the Cluster decided to remain here to help. Then others in Little Homeworld—and even a few on Homeworld itself—learned about what we were doing, and traveled here to volunteer.” She pauses. “They’re here for the sake of the Gems inside the Cluster, not for me. Still, it is nice not to be alone.”

“Mm.”

Yellow turns from the trees to the canyon, in the direction of the rising sun. The growing orange light catches her Gemstone too, and it glimmers in it. “It’s a beautiful morning.”

“Yeah,” Steven says. “It is.”

[ao3]

[rockislandadultreads]

2020 Horror: a reading list

The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix

Fried Green Tomatoes and Steel Magnolias meet Dracula in this Southern-flavored supernatural thriller set in the '90s about a women's book club that must protect its suburban community from a mysterious and handsome stranger who turns out to be a blood-sucking fiend.

Patricia Campbell had always planned for a big life, but after giving up her career as a nurse to marry an ambitious doctor and become a mother, Patricia's life has never felt smaller. The days are long, her kids are ungrateful, her husband is distant, and her to-do list is never really done. The one thing she has to look forward to is her book club, a group of Charleston mothers united only by their love for true-crime and suspenseful fiction. In these meetings, they're more likely to discuss the FBI's recent siege of Waco as much as the ups and downs of marriage and motherhood.

But when an artistic and sensitive stranger moves into the neighborhood, the book club's meetings turn into speculation about the newcomer. Patricia is initially attracted to him, but when some local children go missing, she starts to suspect the newcomer is involved. She begins her own investigation, assuming that he's a Jeffrey Dahmer or Ted Bundy. What she uncovers is far more terrifying, and soon she--and her book club--are the only people standing between the monster they've invited into their homes and their unsuspecting community.

The Year of the Witching by Alexis Henderson

In the lands of Bethel, where the Prophet’s word is law, Immanuelle Moore’s very existence is blasphemy. Her mother’s union with an outsider of a different race cast her once-proud family into disgrace, so Immanuelle does her best to worship the Father, follow Holy Protocol, and lead a life of submission, devotion, and absolute conformity, like all the other women in the settlement.

But a mishap lures her into the forbidden Darkwood surrounding Bethel, where the first prophet once chased and killed four powerful witches. Their spirits are still lurking there, and they bestow a gift on Immanuelle: the journal of her dead mother, who Immanuelle is shocked to learn once sought sanctuary in the wood.

Fascinated by the secrets in the diary, Immanuelle finds herself struggling to understand how her mother could have consorted with the witches. But when she begins to learn grim truths about the Church and its history, she realizes the true threat to Bethel is its own darkness. And she starts to understand that if Bethel is to change, it must begin with her.

Little Bones by David Baillie

Hamilton, Ontario, 1953.

A nine-year-old boy meets with a horrific death at the hands of a sociopath; his little body is then hidden away in a soon-to-be-sealed tenement coal chute where it lies for two decades. The remains, discovered by contractors rerouting a pipe in 1974, make for sensational news; the fact that ten small bones are missing causes further speculation. But interest in the cold case fades quickly—except in the imagination of a tragically lonely boy named Scott Campbell, a resident of that sad building who suffers (equally) from undiagnosed Selective Mutism and the terrible neglect of his mentally ill mother. In the building’s furnace room, Scotty meets his one and only friend: a child’s playful, coal-black shadow that follows him through a litany of foster homes and into adulthood.

Now, in 1987, thirteen years after the discovery of those remains, Scotty is an enigmatic street artist who makes strange sculptures out of found objects, which he leaves in the forgotten and overlooked corners of the city. Scotty’s social worker, Simon, despairs over Scotty’s plight: the mute will soon be completely on his own, for he aged out of government-sponsored aid almost two years ago and is now living on the remnants of a miracle extension arranged by Simon’s boss. Simon also has his own dilemma: as a Mohawk with invested interest in the Six Nations of the Grand River, he feels like he is betraying his own community by working for the government-funded Children’s Aid Society in Hamilton. Caught between pressure at home and the impending end of Scotty’s meagre support, Simon is losing faith in both the System and himself.

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

A tale of revenge, cultural identity, and the cost of breaking from tradition in this latest novel from the Jordan Peele of horror literature, Stephen Graham Jones.

Seamlessly blending classic horror and a dramatic narrative with sharp social commentary, The Only Good Indians follows four American Indian men after a disturbing event from their youth puts them in a desperate struggle for their lives. Tracked by an entity bent on revenge, these childhood friends are helpless as the culture and traditions they left behind catch up to them in a violent, vengeful way.

Jack by Connie Willis

During the height of the Blitz in London, the air raid rescue squad operating out of Mrs. Lucy’s house is close-knit and ever-watchful. When a new volunteer named Jack shows up, his odd behavior—not eating, disappearing during the day for a mysterious job—isn’t concerning at first. The sleepless stress of the job is hard on everyone. Soon, Jack is in high demand, due to an almost uncanny talent for finding buried people still alive under the rubble… But how does he do it? As the narrator, another member of the squad also named Jack, begins to investigate, the truth turns out to have a dark, tragic twist. New York Times bestselling, multiple-award-winning author Connie Willis’s surprising and deftly rendered classic 1991 novella “Jack,” a finalist for the Nebula and the Hugo awards, is a must-have for readers of her beloved works set in World War II, including “Fire Watch,” Blackout, and All Clear.

Clown in a Cornfield by Adam Cesare

Quinn Maybrook just wants to make it until graduation. She might not make it to morning.

Quinn and her father moved to tiny, boring Kettle Springs to find a fresh start. But ever since the Baypen Corn Syrup Factory shut down, Kettle Springs has cracked in half. On one side are the adults, who are desperate to make Kettle Springs great again, and on the other are the kids, who want to have fun, make prank videos, and get out of Kettle Springs as quick as they can.

Kettle Springs is caught in a battle between old and new, tradition and progress. It’s a fight that looks like it will destroy the town. Until Frendo, the Baypen mascot, a creepy clown in a pork-pie hat, goes homicidal and decides that the only way for Kettle Springs to grow back is to cull the rotten crop of kids who live there now

[amerraka]

Ah..... They are Connie and Jason Whittaker in my head now. 

It needs to be so in real life. They are just so much a family already.... it’d be sad to break it up and bring in some weird stranger who’s not as good as Jason (*cough*Jeff*cough)

I can just envision it. They would be so sweet together. 

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (No TW this chapter, but keep in mind the grander story involves major character injury)

Words: 6.7K~

Summary: The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

Chapter Summary: Aftermath.

This is officially the longest complete SU fic I’ve finished. I’m so proud ;w;

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

_____

Chapter 4: The Remembrance

His mind is shrouded by darkness for long enough that in the split instant the curtains finally part, for just a momentary shard of infinity, the mere idea of any world beyond the pitch-black he’s become so accustomed to seems like a farce.

Resultantly, his journey to consciousness is about as labored and exhausting as a backpacking trip across the Great North in the dead of winter.

He’s greeted by flashes of white, first— intermittent, dim. They splash across his inky sky in unreliable patterns, little bursts of static gearing up to pull him out of this all-consuming nothingness and back to reality. Next, a heartbeat. Steady and sure, such a relief to experience that his throat can’t help but constrict in a wave of all-encompassing emotion. (Why is he so relieved to feel something this normal?) Lying somewhere intangibly beyond his awareness, he can hear... water? Waves, he immediately corrects himself. The aching familiarity of waves crashing upon the shore, a sound he’s shared his front yard with for almost his whole life. Elsewhere, the faint scent of herbs and simmering broth delicately pulls on his consciousness, burning through tangled threads of disorientation and confusion and beckoning him awake.

Steven’s eyelids flutter open, thin lines of light streaming through the gaps between his eyelashes.

The moment he does however, the stark actuality of his situation slams into him with a vengeance. His head throbs as memories begin to re-establish themselves like individual puzzle pieces locking into place.

 I was— Dad, and Amethyst... the fountain... empty, and then Pearl had to....

His heart’s pace snaps into overdrive in seconds. Thrashing under his blankets, he manages to kick his arms and torso free so he can rush to sit up. Dizziness assails him as he yanks up the bottom of his pajamas and splays his hand across the smooth, warm surface of that diamond at his core, feeling for cracks, for chips, for—

 Huh. Imagine that.

Steven inhales deep as he attempts to balance out the pace of his breath, blood still pounding in his ears as he delicately traces a shaking index finger around the edge of the central pentagonal facet of his gem, entirely unblemished and whole. There’s no sign of damage, no thin stress fractures left behind. No evidence that it was ever cracked at all, really. For an excruciatingly lengthy moment his brow creases inwards in confusion as he wonders if all this agony was nothing but a stress-induced nightmare. But then again...

He groans, pressing his fingers to one of his throbbing temples as the ambient pain hits him.

Oh stars, everything aches. His head, his limbs, his spine, every square inch of his body feels like he’s been pressed through a meat grinder and ruthlessly spat out on the other side. If that’s not proof that what happened on his mission with Amethyst was real, then he doesn’t know what is. Drowsily, he flops back against his pillow and squeezes his eyelids shut, stubbornly yearning for the comfort and familiarity of sleep-induced unconsciousness. Maybe, just maybe... he can sleep these aches away.

Time passes far too unreliably as he’s laying motionless there, struggling against a hyperactive flood of thoughts to return to his earlier state of rest. Has he been awake for a minute? Half an hour? He has no idea. The only concrete thing he can glean is that he definitely has a headache right now. Maybe even a migraine. He’s still not sure what the difference between those is supposed to be. Is it a ‘squares are rectangles, but rectangles aren’t squares’ sort of scenario? Or are they synonyms? Hmm. Maybe he should ask Dad, he’d probably know. In fact, where is Dad? And how’d he end up in bed in his pajamas, anyways?

He’s honestly relieved when he hears the unmistakable sound of Pearl’s light, precise footsteps climbing the stairs to his room, if only that it gives him a solid excuse to face reality and stop deluding himself with the tragic, unobtainable lie that is peaceful slumber. He lets his eyes flutter open again.

“Hi, Pearl,” he mumbles when she reaches the top step.

She’s carrying a small dinner tray with a steaming bowl of something delicious smelling (the broth he recognized earlier?) and a glass of water perched atop. Meeting his half-alert gaze, her expression lights up with a glow of pleasant surprise.

“Oh, good, you’re up!” she says, a great deal of the stress locked in her shoulders melting away as she crosses the room towards his bedside. “I was just about to wake you myself, if you weren’t already.”

Rubbing away the exhaustion crusted at the corners of his eyes with the joint at the base of his thumb, he watches as Pearl carefully places the tray on the nightstand at his right. With a groan, he bows upwards under his covers, the vertebrae in his back popping and sighing all the while as he stretches. Goodness, he’s not sure his spine has ever felt so stiff and tight. Remind him to never accidentally get hurled against a tree in combat again.

“How... how long was I out?” he asks then, the workaholic part of him already fearing her answer.

Pearl glances towards the ceiling, her brow creasing as she makes the calculation in her head.

“Hmm, I think... around seven hours?“

“What??” he cries, shooting upright in bed with the speed of a spring trap. “Seven hours?! That’s like, the whole day! I had plans!”

She frowns pensively, gesturing widely with her hands as she replies. “Steven, you were cracked and needed time to recover. A hit like that is bound to take a serious toll on any body, hard-light or not.”

His features morphing into a scowl, he slouches back against the wall. That’s a fair point, how disruptive cracks can be for full-Gems as well. It’s not just a matter of Pearl babying him. Even though they healed Amethyst’s fracture fairly quickly, years back, it still took her a few days of rest before she rose to the top of her game again. And as much as he’d love to deny it, right now his whole body honestly feels like it’s been hit head on by a truck at sixty miles per hour. It’s a dull but constant brand of pain he can’t claim he’s ever dealt with before all this mess. That month he shot up almost a foot in height back when he was 14 came close, but even that period of ache was more subtle than this.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says with a heavy sigh, threading his fingers together in his lap.

“Anyways,” she says gently, the reminder of her presence cutting through some of the layers of his pain-induced melancholy, “it’s 5:38 now, just in time for dinner! And I took the liberty of cooking a batch of your favorite soup.”

Unable to help himself, his inner child gasps in sheer joy. He sits up again, slamming his palms to his cheeks as he gushes with excitement. “Chicken and vegetable soup with the tiny star noodles??”

Any lingering crankiness about the percentage of the day wasted dissipates into a fine mist as Pearl picks the tray off the nightstand and passes it into his lap, confirming the identity of his homemade dinner. As he begins to eat— carefully, taking small spoonfuls at first to ensure that his stomach can handle it— his guardian sits at the edge of his bed and provides him updates on the rest of the family’s whereabouts. Apparently Garnet’s still halfway across the galaxy, but should be returning home tomorrow the moment she’s through with her mission. She sends her love, Pearl says. She also texted Connie to let her know what happened, and his friend plans to come over as soon as she can in the morning to spend time with him as he recovers. Meanwhile, Greg left a few minutes before he woke up to hit the store. He’s picking up some new food for the both of them, and intends to sleep downstairs on the couch the next few nights to keep tabs on him.

“He’s been really worried about you,” she admits, reaching out for his hand as if she too frets he might suddenly fade into the ether if she takes her eyes off him for one moment. “Before I told him to step out of the house for some mental rejuvenation, he never left your side.”

Steven responds to her tactile affection with a soft squeeze for her benefit, but quickly lets go to continue eating his soup.

“Well,” he says through a fresh spoonful of food, “‘m fine now, so...” Pause to swallow, the bump of his larynx bobbing in his throat. “So there’s no need to worry anymore.”

“Oh, if only it were that easy,” she comments, a melancholy smile framing her face.

With a sigh, she stands to her feet, smoothing out the edge of the covers where she once sat. Watching this small act, he suddenly wonders if her vast history with deeply troubling experiences like what she had to witness this morning are why she’s so emotionally drawn to tasks such as tidying and repairing; after all, these do allow her space to exert a small degree of control over areas of her life she might otherwise harbor concern or anxiety towards. Huh. He presses his lips into a tight line as he willfully contemplates this concept. Considering his earlier disappointment about how much daylight he’s wasted, (so many business and socialization meetings he’s missing in town today!), perhaps he inherited a portion of his own workaholic tendencies from emulating her throughout his childhood. He dares not follow this rabbit any further, however... dares not ask what he’s distracting himself from.

 Another time, Universe.

Brimming with a renewed sense of purpose, Pearl crosses towards the narrow patio outside the open slider door, her features returning to their neutral, observant state.

“In any case,” she continues as she rests her palm flat against the glass, “please do enjoy the rest of your meal! I’m going to fetch Amethyst from the observatory. She’s been, um... how to say... on Diamond pacifying duty these past few hours, and I’m sure she‘s desperate for a break.”

He offers a sharp grimace in response to this sentiment, knowing from almost two years of firsthand experience that patiently keeping watch over those Gem monarchs is no easy task. “Youch, my condolences. Feel free to send her in, I’d love to see her.”

Pearl nods in confirmation, and then slips out the doorway towards the observatory’s ramp.

He enjoys what little is left of his soup as he waits. Thankfully, his system shows no signs of unrest, which allows him to finish the whole bowl. Good thing, too. He unfortunately recalls losing his breakfast earlier this morning amidst the blunt force of that spiked tail to his stomach, which means he’s had little to no food in him all day. Now, he’s no medical expert, (Connie would likely know the answer thanks to her mom, though), but surely that can’t be good for recovery.

Amidst his better wishes, his thoughts turn to all the social meetings and appointments he’d planned for today. He can’t imagine Pearl knew his itinerary well enough to contact each and every person he’d unintentionally blown off, so that means from all of their perspectives they waited and waited and he simply... never showed up. Like Mayor Nanefua. He was supposed to discuss logistics about Little Homeschool’s eventual opening with her at town hall immediately after the corrupted Gem mission. Peridot. He agreed to meet with her at one of the ancient drop ship sites to assist in de-arming it for safety purposes. Lars. Before all this happened, he was genuinely looking forward to hanging out with Lars and the rest of his Gem gang this afternoon. And because he was reckless and got himself cracked on what should’ve been the most straightforward mission of all time, he let them all down. He groans, slumping backwards until his head clunks against the wall. Ughhh. Stupid, stupid Steven. Now, where on earth’s his phone? He should probably start to clear up this mess.

Steven places his empty bowl on the tray on his nightstand, and begins dutifully searching the tabletop. Before his search can bear any fruit, however, Amethyst bursts into the room, toting one of the handheld diamond communication lines they store in the observatory. (Blessedly, this one comes without self-destruct functionality. Times have sure changed since the daring days when Peridot emphatically called Yellow Diamond a clod.)

“Hey, little man!” she chimes when they meet each other’s glance, her relieved smile admittedly rather infectious. “It’s great to see ya’ up and at ‘em again.”

He offers a bashful laugh, twirling his finger around a short curl at the nape of his neck. “Y-yeah, I’m—“

“Yo, what’s this here, though?” she interjects, bee-lining to his nightstand to stick her nose in his dinner tray. Her face falls the moment she sees inside the bowl, which he’s dutifully scraped empty. “Dude, come on, you didn’t leave any for me?”

“What? Nooo,” he says in mock protest, his voice wavering in laughter. “I already ate it.”

Amethysts reaches forward and gives him a solid noogie, ruffling his hair until its ends are all mussed. Even though his head still hurts he can’t help but giggle, playfully batting her arms away. Hah, typical quartz sibling affection. Gotta love it.

“Nah, I’m just goofin’!” she grins. “You’ve lost enough food today on the forest floor, so I wouldn’t be stealin’ any even if I could.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” he comments with an eye roll, lips pursed as he tries not to muse too hard about the uncomfortable burning sensation associated with that abhorrent experience, least he vomit all over again.

Meanwhile, Amethyst’s high spirits finally hit their crest and begin to break like the distant din of white water waves offshore as she nervously tussles with the crystal octahedron clasped in her palm.

“But, ah... ignoring all that, Blue D said she wanted to talk to you?”

She presses the diamond line into his possession with fettered urgency, the posture of her hands vocalizing an unspoken, underlying message of “oh stars, I’m going insane babysitting these ancient Gem monarchs, please take this from me NOW.” Or at least, that’s what he gleans from it. To be fair, his months of near-constant interaction with them may make him a little biased on the subject.

“Probably best not to keep her waiting. We can catch up later,” she says, giving his fingers a quick squeeze before pulling away.

And with that she hurtles down the stairs into the main living area, ditching him within this empty room with the equivalent of an intergalactic phone that dials direct to who he can only describe as his honorary Gem grandparents. Sure, so maybe most Gems don’t have “children” in the same manner humans do, and maybe the Diamonds themselves have no clear understanding of the classification of human familial relationships, (despite their somewhat touching attempts at learning a few details about Earth culture for his sake), but the quasi-parental role they played in his mother’s life is undeniable from his perspective. So is their “out-of-touch” nature, a common stereotype he sees played up for drama with fictional grandparents on TV shows all the time. He’s not sure how he feels yet that this stereotype rings so true with his own.

Regardless, if Blue wants to talk, then there’s no time like the present. As much as he dreads it, this conversation is bound to happen eventually, of course— and after all their concern, the diamonds more than deserve an update on his well-being. Steven swallows hard, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the crystal as he summons the courage to dial, desperately attempting to not let the sour notes of their last interaction tint the underlying sentiment of this one before it can even begin.

Eventually, he sucks in a deep breath and activates the communicator. The octahedron glows a soft blue, and after a few seconds’ time during which the signal is crossing to the far edge of the galaxy, projects a view screen above its upper point.

The image is fuzzy at first, but sharpens fast once Blue connects from her end. She immediately smiles as she looks upon him, elated emotion running so deep within her that for once, it even manages to reach her eyes.

“Steven! I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” she begins in full earnesty, clasping her hands together in front of her gem.

He doesn’t respond at first, finding himself too distracted by the scenery, and by the radical juxtaposition of Blue’s current demeanor to her behavior last night. Given the glimpse of White’s empty throne behind her shoulder, he’s pretty sure she’s sitting alone in the ballroom, the sight of which can’t help but stir up unwanted memories of the brief argument they had right before he rushed off to visit home, b-because... oh stars, he was right there, standing right in her presence when she reflexively forced her tears on him.

She wanted to throw him a massive planet-wide ball honoring his sixteenth birthday, wanted to organize a whole coalition of Gems to set up the venues, the entertainment, the food, everything— and when he finally managed to squeeze a word in edgewise between all her unfettered excitement to inform her that he wished to spend his birthday celebrating with his family on Earth instead, she was inconsolable. Crying. Raising her voice. Blaming him of running away from her just like Pink did all those years ago. In the heat of the moment he believed he was simply standing up for himself and his preferences, but fast forward to the present and he can’t help but question the etiquette of his own response more and more as the cruel minutes tick onward. Did he do the right thing, or did he only cause her undue emotional harm? Will Blue Diamond accept his stance moving forward, or will she press the topic again? (After all, he knows her desire to tether him to Homeworld for his birthday is merely a symptom of her greater longing for him to live in the palace with them permanently.) And if she does, is he even allowed to express his opinions when he’s outright walking a tightrope every day he’s in the public eye, single-handedly balancing Gemkind’s delicate political situation in both hands as he slowly but surely advances towards the light on the other side? He must be careful. One wrong move, and everything he’s been working towards for the past year could topple, could cause a disastrous vacuum.

No matter the personal cost, isn’t it his duty as savior of the galaxy to ensure that doesn’t happen?

Gems are depending on him.

And as much as he wants to be selfish and dig his heels into the ground to ensure his own comfort for once in his life, he’s not sure that’s even an option anymore.

Steven grips onto the edge of his bedspread with his free hand, clamping his fingers in tight, reveling in the sensation of skin shifting against downy fabric. It’s just enough to tether him back to the present. To ensure he doesn’t lose himself in the riptides of bitter memory. But by the time his scattered awareness clues in on the fact that he’s probably remained silent for an overly awkward period of time, it’s much too late, and in due consequence, he mentally returns to the scene to find that Blue has kept on talking with or without his conscious attention.

Hah. Serves him right, honestly.

“—was just explaining the details of the disastrous mission you embarked on today,” she says, making small gestures in embellishment of her soft-spoken words, “when your Pearl entered to announce you were awake. I’ll let the others know as soon as I can.”

He swallows, his throat hopelessly dry, as dry as the fine granules of sand scattered across the upper shore on an intensely hot summer’s day.

“I, um—“ he manages, voice wavering. (And quite honestly, feeling stupid for it, in her presence. How many months has he spent perfecting his technique for confidently speaking with the diamonds, again?) He adjusts his hold on the octahedral crystal as he vies to regain some sense of inner balance for the rest of this conversation. “So Yellow and White know too, then?”

Blue leans upon one of the armrests of her throne, releasing a weary sigh. It’s only then that he begins to take note of the residual anxiety blanketed across her form— the almost bruise-like shadows under her eyes appearing deeper than usual, her normally flawless hair now frizzy and unkempt— and if he’s honest, he struggles to understand how he truly feels, knowing that the news of his injury could affect her in such a soul-striking manner. (He often wonders if it’s fair of him, interacting with them in such a detached business-like fashion when, despite their intermittent shortcomings and confusions, they’ve offered him nothing but love and adoration in return since the beginning of era 3.)

“Oh, they were the first to know. Yellow answered the initial call, and White, she was hosting a court session with some of the fusion Gems just next door. I—“ She presses the pad of her thumb to the center facet of her gemstone, pausing in her words a moment to take a sharp inhale. “I only learnt about what nearly happened to you a fragment of a rotation ago, upon my return to the palace.”  

His brows furrow, suddenly realizing the fact that, beyond Blue, the throne room she sits in sounds desolate. Void of all Gems. “Where is everyone, anyways?”

“Distracting themselves, mostly. Last I heard, they’re busy trying to locate any of Pink’s essences that might still remain within our stores, just in case something like this should happen again. Of course I dread the very thought, but...”

Her voice wavers with just the hint of a sob, as she momentarily breaks from her explanation to regain her composure.

(Steven is ashamed to admit that he fails to mask the instinctual tightening of his shoulders as he sees fresh tears brim upon the digitized representation of her visage, even though logically he knows there’s no chance her influence could cross all these light years to weigh down on him here. Not on Earth. Not this far away.)

“...I couldn’t bear to lose another,” she manages, and— after dabbing those teardrops away with her curled fingers— glances back up to meet his gaze with those boundless, melancholy eyes. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, chest growing tighter at the untimely reminder of his mom’s passing, an inseparable facet of his life history he still hasn’t managed to process yet. Perhaps subconscious in nature, his free hand creeps its way under his shirt to rest protectively over his gem. “No one deserves to go through that pain again.”

“Y’know, that’s why I really do wish you’d consider our offer to permanently live with us on Homeworld, in the safety of the palace,” she mentions then, clasping her hands together as if this were a dawning, glorious new idea Steven’s never heard before. “After all, I’m sure none of this would’ve happened under the protection of the guard.”

“Uh, I don’t thi—“

“Can you imagine it, all four diamonds finally reunited under the same stars?” Blue continues, a wide smile passing gracefully across her lips as she waxes on about this indulgent dream of hers. “We could grow you an orchard, so you have as much food as you need, and your pebbles could make you whatever clothes or luxuries you desire. And of course, there’s still the matter of your annual birth celebration to attend to...”

Steven can’t help it. He can’t manage to stop himself, no matter how pathetic he knows his reaction is.

In the light of this topic’s re-emergence, he zones out again. He slips directly into the welcoming embrace of inattention and subconscious thought. His head’s pounding, the pulsing discomfort birthing a brand new species of ache right behind his eyes. It’s miserable, but no more miserable than the idea of the future Blue Diamond has been continuously pushing for the last few months. No more miserable than the idea of being trapped on a planet with individuals who — no matter how hard they try and change their habits for his sake in the present— have all deeply hurt him at various stages of his life. And sure, he knows this is a twisted, selfish sentiment for him to harbor, because of how Pink abandoned them in the past, because of how all three of them have worked so tirelessly these past months to reorganize their entire way of life: to actually see him as his own person instead of a shadow of his mom, to healthily process their own emotions instead of tearing others down, to openly invite fusions and off-colors into the light of society. They’ve genuinely changed for the better. He should be overjoyed about that, shouldn’t he? He should be happy for them.

And yet joy is the last thing he feels when faced with the genuine possibility that he might not be strong enough in his own convictions to stand up to Blue’s desires, that he might one day find himself trapped long-term on a planet that— albeit picturesque in its own unique way— he doesn’t call home, his feet rooted to the dead soil by thorny vines born of his own timidness.

Somehow, in the face of all his fears, he swears he’s transforming into a coward.

He didn’t used to be. The Steven Universe of Era 2 wouldn’t dare stand down from making his opinions heard, would fight for what he believes in until star-shine glistens overhead and all denizens of the galaxy could experience true freedom.

So what the hell is his hang up now? He knows exactly how he wants to respond, so why can’t he simply summon the courage to do it? Why can’t this be as intuitive as summoning his shield, or a bubble?

Why does he have to feel so... so twisted up inside about this?

Steven clenches his teeth then, a sudden spike of residual pain arcing up his spine. Yikes, okay. That doesn’t feel great. Maybe he’s been sitting up for too long, and needs to lay down and rest again.

Or else, maybe after he’s finally done discussing matters with Blue he could...

Wait a minute.

The fingers of his free hand begin to knead the blanket in his lap with a new wave of gusto as he comes to an abrupt revelation about his present condition that could change literally everything.

Stars, that’s perfect. That’s not even a lie! Why on Earth didn’t he think of this before?

He was severely injured this morning. The gemstone at his core outright could’ve shattered, without treatment. Surely any fellow Gem would understand if he says he needs some extra time to fully recover? Perhaps even... the rest of the week? Including his birthday? And on top of that, this extra time would allow him all the privacy he needs to figure out how to confidently and politely decline Blue’s recurring request to live on Homeworld. He’d literally be hitting two targets with one shield!

He nibbles at the inside of his bottom lip as he considers how best to phrase this.

“Hey, Blue?” he calls, immediately garnering her full gaze. “Um—“

Although briefly squirming like an insecure child under those intense azure irises, he stamps down that devilishly tempting urge to go silent and recede into the shadows of this conversation again, wholly compliant to whatever she says. No, he has to speak his mind. No positive change in this relationship will ever occur unless he resolves to stand up for himself, no matter how many reminders it takes. His muscles grow tense as his mouth bobs open once again.

“About the whole birthday celebration thing, I, uh...”

His tongue grows excruciatingly dry in his anxiety, and he’s suddenly struck with the reminder that he never drank the water Pearl left on his dinner tray. Pity, that. He swallows, throat tight and scratchy, and continues.

“I think it’s very kind of you to offer hosting a ball for me on Homeworld, but as of right now, I... I’m very, very sore, and need to stay at my home for a few days to recover from my injury, okay? I promise I’ll visit in person as soon as I’m physically able to,” he rapidly blurts, recognizing a glint of hurt coat Blue’s otherwise attentive expression, “just... after my birthday.”

The diamond lets her weary eyes flutter shut as she takes a moment to soak in everything he just said. Honestly, he can’t think to guess what’s running through her mind right now, and he’s not sure he wants to. Eventually however, she offers an extended sigh, its watercolor edges brushed with an air of melancholy.

“I suppose you’re right,” she replies, offering him a watery smile. “We wouldn’t want to upset your fragile organic system so soon after such an ordeal, now would we? Very well, then. I’ll leave you to rest.”

“Thank you,” he says, his shoulders finally loosening up from their overwrought state.

“We can do something to celebrate when you’re back on Homeworld, just the four of us. In fact, I’ve been talking with White, and we have the perfect idea for a gift!”

Steven gives a small nervous laugh, fiddling with the back of his shirt collar. “Hahah, yeah? Well, I guess I’ll look forward to it. Anyways, uh... thanks for checking in. Bye.”

His heart still pounding despite the overwhelming sense of resolution, his thumb presses the bottom point of the octahedron inwards, ending the call. He gently sets aside the communicator on his nightstand, next to his empty soup bowl. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he flops backwards on his bed with his arms stretched wide and gives a sharp, celebratory cackle of relief. He... he finally did it! He spoke his mind. He stood up to Blue’s headstrong desires, successfully reasserted his intentions. Set clear boundaries, just like Amethyst said he should. And as his reward, maybe now he can celebrate his birthday at home without guilt hanging like a weighty anvil over his head. Just maybe. He smiles, allowing his sore body to sink right into the plush cocoon of his mattress.

For the first time today, things are finally on the up-and-up.

And so that pattern continues through the rest of the evening. It’s not long after his call with Blue that his dad returns from the store, not even bothering to put the frozen and refrigerated foods in their proper temperature controlled places before bounding upstairs to check on him upon the call of his name. No amount of detailed description could ever hope to intimately capture the full spectrum of sheer elation and love Dad unloads on him in the precious minutes that follow, but by the end of it his father’s sobbing in his arms, exhausted tears staining the collar of his pajama shirt as they clutch to each other with iron clad grips. At this point, the only way Steven can hope to respond is to act as nothing more but a solid rock, if only to reassure him that he’s alive, he’s well, he’s here.

The two of them spend a good chunk of the remaining evening together, watching reruns of Under the Knife at the foot of his bed while nibbling on some cheddar popcorn. It’s rejuvenating, honestly. Stars, is it rejuvenating. Somehow it seems like an eternity since they’ve been able to just... live life together, even in the simplest of ways. They’ll share a dinner here and there when he visits home, sure— a video call from another planet every week or so, yes— but there’s something so fundamentally irreplaceable about physically leaning against your loved ones and spending a tangible amount of time with them that he’s sorely missed over his busy months as Era 3’s ambassador. It’s special. Something to cherish. And something he dearly hopes to engage in with his family and friends a lot more as his immediate duties with the Diamonds wind to a close.

At some point in the middle of their fourth episode, Steven finally finds his phone. It was in his jacket pocket, of course— the new pink wool one he left slung over his desk chair before leaving on the corrupted Gem recovery mission this morning. With that retrieved, he makes sure to text a quick update to all the friends he missed seeing today. Even though logic tells him getting cracked wasn’t entirely his fault, it’s hard to dodge the temptation of guilt. Thankfully though, with the rest of the week now scrubbed entirely free of Homeworld stuff, perhaps he can reschedule a few of these gatherings.  

The rest of his night is uneventful.

The Gems pop in and out to check on him, otherwise attending to their own obligations. Over the comforting backdrop of the television, Dad gushes about the concert he’s organized in town next week for Sadie Killer and the Suspects. Says he’s hopeful it’ll be a sellout. In return, he provides lush descriptions of some of the distant former colonies (now free planets) he’s gotten to visit as part of his political service. There’s some pretty stunning ones, he has to admit. The sightseeing he gets to engage in is a small but shining perk of his current responsibilities.

At ten, the TV is turned off. They hug and part ways, his dad quietly shuffling to the bathroom downstairs to brush his teeth and throw on a sleep shirt.

His headache is almost gone by now, having reduced to nothing more but a faint aura.

He’s standing outside on the porch enjoying some fresh, salty air before bed when Amethyst quietly slides into place alongside him, seeking his affection. She wraps her arms tight around his torso, burying her face against his shoulder. He reciprocates in kind. She doesn’t cry like Dad did, however. She doesn’t even speak. Rather, her purposeful silence ripples through his soul more than any concrete word or phrase ever could. Innately, he knows what she’s asking.

“I’m okay now,” he murmurs softly, blinking away his own budding tears while his expression is still hidden from her. “You healed me, I’m okay.”

“You’re a big liar, y’know that?” she says, voice muffled.

He rolls his eyes, pulling away from her embrace. “Fine, fine. I’m still a little sore. ‘Ya happy?”

Amethyst frowns, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she shifts her stance to lounge against the railing. “I’d be happier if none of that ever happened in the first place.”

Her frank statement hangs amidst the wind like a tattered flag upon an abandoned battlefield. Steven swallows, the resulting lump settling uneven in his throat.

(For a second he almost feels sick again, a surge of lingering discomfort churning at his core.)

“Yeah...” he sighs, staring off into the dim ocean horizon and forcing himself to acknowledge her unfortunate experience with this type of injury. “Yeah. I’m sorry if that brought back any bad memories for you.”

She scoffs. “Ch’yeah, so... I’m not gonna say it didn’t suck, but. It’s over now, y’know? I’ll deal. You don’t have to apologize for it, or anything.”

Long pause. His quartz sibling threads her fingers together as she leans against the chipping wood, silently tussling with herself under the ebbing solidarity of the ocean tides. A significant stretch of time passes between them before she finally takes it upon herself to speak again.

“‘S’not like it was your fault, anyways.”

His chest tightens upon recognition of that familiar self-blame inherent in her tone. If he were a stronger, better person, he might take it upon himself to chip away at the walls of that insecurity with love and reassurance, to be the kind, encouraging Steven he used to be. But he’s tired, and he’s lived long enough to acknowledge by now that perfectly formed words can’t fix everything. Not immediately, at least. People are complicated. He’s complicated. And sometimes the best one can manage is to simply act as a supportive companion to another.

Starlight glittering overhead, and the cool coastal breeze tussling at their hair, he joins Amethyst at the balcony and rests his cheek on her shoulder just like he used to do when he was little. Together, enveloped in a tension-filled silence, they watch the waves together. Watch the gulls pick at old food scraps further up shore, closer to the edge of the cliffs.

“Hey, what kind of gem was it, by the way?” he asks eventually. “You never said.”

“Ughhh,” she groans, dropping her head against the wood with a soft clunk. “A dang sapphire. Literally no wonder why she was so slippery!”

Steven can’t help the bubble of oddly placed glee that rises within him upon her answer. He cracks a dopey grin, shaking his head at himself. A snicker passes his lips.

A sapphire. Of course it was a sapphire. Gosh, isn’t that sweet, sweet vindication.

Her brow creases in confusion. “What?”

Perhaps finally cracking under months of accumulated stress, he breaks into peels of low laughter.

“What is it? Dude, ya’ gotta tell meeee!” she cries, playfully rustling at his arm as he doubles over against the railing, clutching his sides as he wrests to catch his breath and respond.

“No, it’s- it’s not even funny,” he says, pushing past the final surge and gaining some sense of composure again. “I just... my guess was spot-on. I’ve never seen a corrupted sapphire, before that.” His demeanor falls sober in a snap, wholly humbled by the abrupt reminder of the vital task waiting in his future, a task that— alongside the Diamonds’ bottled essences— only he can hope to see through. “I hope she’ll be okay, once she’s healed. I’m not even gonna mention what happened, honestly.”

Amethyst visibly pales at his allusion to the incident this morning. To ‘what happened.’ Hah. As if cushioning the truth in vague, non-specific language could at all erase the stark reality of what he went through. Sometimes he really is daft.

“Steven, I—“ she swallows hard, nibbling at her knuckles for a moment as she contemplates the greater details of whatever seems to be assailing her mind. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, okay? But... I have to at least ask. Do you, like... remember anything?”

He frowns, avoiding her direct gaze as he moves to lean against the balcony, overlooking the blustery shoreline.

“What, you mean about... everything after the fight? And at the, ah... at the fountain, yeah?”

Amethyst offers a hesitant nod, her eyes glossed with marked worry. Peering at the pinprick constellations above as he reflects on this question, Steven experimentally nudges scattered fragments of memory closer together, the seconds and minutes of that experience progressively locking into place until—

The world bends and splinters within his sight, his dad and Amethyst’s tear-stricken faces phasing into each other as they sink ever further into the thickets of their fearful despair. He’s prone in their hold, hard light pulsing rampant through his veins, unregulated, unrestrained, stretching out from his broken gemstone like clawing, yearning fingers... his muscles taut at one moment and pliable at the next, wholly unable to exert control over his body as his every limb jitters and jerks, unable to staunch his hoarse sobs as he soaks in the cold, terrifying static of it all, and now his words are jumbled and backwards, and deep within he knows this with an intense clarity but he can’t help it, he can’t fix it, he can barely even think, he ca—

Steven inhales evenly, purposefully not allowing his expression to flash even a minuscule micro-expression of residual fear. After all, it’s Era 3. Everyone’s supposed to find happiness and fulfillment now, which can’t happen when people are stuck dwelling on their shadowed past. Thus, Amethyst doesn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of what he does or doesn’t know. That’s his problem to shoulder, his boulder to carry.

And he refuses to force anyone else to carry the weight of his past for him. He refuses to become like Blue, still stuck in a tempestuous pattern of pushing her emotions on everyone around her and making them feel like crap.

Perhaps it’s foolish, but he sorely wants to believe he’s better than her.

“Nope,” he says, feigning an unparalleled air of confidence as he shakes his head to confirm the negative. “Can’t remember a thing.”

[nobodyfamousposts]

Mominette: Changes

Conner got a message from Marinette.

As soon as he saw the words "Something happened", he didn’t even wait for the rest.

He immediately got to Paris and burst into the Bakery. Tom and Sabine looked confused and worried, but let him go upstairs to where Mari and Adrien were.

The normal thrum of his siblings was weak, almost muted.

He rushed up to Marinette’s room, his mind racing the entire way. Was everyone safe? Are they okay? What happened?

He burst into the room.

He saw Marinette and Adrien. They're fine, but worried and Marinette looked almost on the verge of a panic attack. Adrien was comforting Marinette and getting her to breathe.

He saw Plagg and Tikki. They're fine. But similarly looked worried.

He glanced around again, growing more agitated.

He seaw Adrien and Mari. He seaw Plagg and Tikki. He did not see his siblings.

He was about to ask—more like demand what happened.

But was interrupted by a voice he’d never heard before.

"Conny?"

He turned to the chaise where there are three children wrapped in a blanket.

Three human children.

He could barely feel it, but the magic was still there, in them.

“What…happened?” He asked the duo. Because this was definitely not normal.

“It’s an akuma.” Adrien explained, being the calmer of the two at the moment. “She has the power to bring toys to life, but…they’re already alive.” He shrugged, helplessly.

“My magic inside of them mixed with the akuma’s.” Marinette said, looking extremely worried. “If we defeat the akuma and return everything to normal, who knows what will happen to them?”

Tikki nuzzled Marinette, mournfully. “I’m sorry, Marinette. This has never happened before.”

Conner’s attention had turned back to the three. All of whom somehow looked smaller despite being bigger than before.

The boy—blond hair and green eyed—Chaton—reached out a hand for him. And Conner couldn’t stop himself from reaching back in turn.

The boy smiled.

“Conny.”

The girls—one with dark blue hair, the other fully black—Littlebug and Minimouse—looked up at him. One curled in on herself and shivered. The other moved the blanket and patted the chaise, a clear invitation for him to join them.

He…really wanted to.

They look all of four years old. Bigger than they had been as dolls, but oh so much more fragile. Chaton’s hand in his own was so tiny and he couldn’t help but worry he would hurt him.

“M’cold.” Minimouse murmured, shivering.

And that pretty much settled it.

Within seconds, Conner was sitting on the chaise with all three siblings wrapped up in the blanket and curled into him.

“I’ll watch them.” He assured his parents.

The two paused, looking back to him in concern.

“Conner…”

“You both need to defeat the akuma, right? I’ll protect them.” He promised. And he meant it.

“It may help.” Plagg rationalized. “He’s got your magic, Spots.”

“Plagg?”

“There’s conflicting magic in your kids right now.” He explained. “The longer it stays, the more trouble it can cause. So the sooner you take out the akuma, the better. And he can keep them stable in the meantime.”

“But…what about after?” Marinette asked, still very much worried.

Tikki hung her head. “Plagg’s right. We won’t know until it’s over. But it would be best to resolve this quickly.”

Marinette looked over to her children, biting her lip in worry.

Conner nodded to her. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Adrien rested a hand on her shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s…let’s be quick.”

Both of them were clearly holding back tears as they kissed each of their kids on the head just in case. With whispered words, they transformed and were gone, leaving Conner alone with his siblings.

Conner did have magic from Marinette. It was weak due to the conflict with his Kryptonian DNA, but it was there. It was the link that let him bond with his family. It allowed him to sense where they were and how they were doing. And now, it let him help with the maelstrom inside the three tiny bodies clutching to him.

But there was only so much he could do. Due to his limited magic and limited experience in using it, he was only able to mostly serve as a rock to try and keep the three grounded.

“Conny…hurts…”

Perhaps for the first time, he actually cursed his Kryptonian side.

“I know.” He said softly, trying to soothe them.

All he could do was try to hold them together while waiting for the akuma to be defeated and hope that there would still be four of them when Ladybug and Chat Noir returned.

“It’ll be okay.”

__________________________

By the time the akuma was defeated, the three had passed out and Conner was exhausted. He barely responded to the two thuds on the balcony above them or the sound of the door springing open.

“Conner?! CONNER!”

“Mom…?”

She knelt in front of him, tired and worried. He didn’t like that expression. He wanted to reassure her, but apparently he didn’t feel any better than she looked.

“Hey!”

Oops. Sorry, Mom.

“Marinette. You need to cast the Cure.” Dad told her, firmly.

“But…what if…?”

“Don’t overthink it.” He said, taking her hand in his and resting his forehead against her own. “Trust your magic.”

“You c’n do it, Mom.” Conner whispered.

She clenched her eyes shut, but nodded.

Would there be any permanent effect of this?

Would they go back to being normal non-magical dolls?

Would they be okay?

Please…please let them be okay.

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

The Cure swept through the room and then throughout Paris. But all three only had eyes for the children and the effect the Cure would have.

Conner felt rejuvenated by the effects of the loveliness. His energy and focus restored, he looked down to the three children clinging to him.

To find three still very human children clinging to him. Asleep. But oh so alive.

“They’re alive.” Conner reported, awed.

“They’re…but they’re human?” Adrien asked in astonishment. He separated from Plagg before moving forward and touching Chaton, ruffling his hair—and yeah, that was real, all right. He looked up to Plagg and Tikki as she also reformed. “They’re just…they’re human now?”

Marinette gaped. “But how? I mean—is this okay? Are they okay? Did it not work?” She was almost on the verge of panicking again.

Minimouse didn’t like the noise, apparently, as she frowned in discomfort and curled more into Conner’s side. Conner placed a hand on her head, soothing her.

Tikki floated down to her as well and kissed her head for a moment. She appeared to be sensing something—analyzing, maybe? A minute passed before she parted from Minimouse and looked up at the three.

“It’s settled. The akuma’s magic is gone.”

“But…why are they like this then?!” Marinette asked.

“The Cure restored everything to how it should be.” Tikki explained.

“Shouldn’t they be dolls then?” Adrien asked. “Not that I’m complaining.” Because he certainly preferred his kids alive regardless. But this was…a surprise to say the least.

Tikki nodded to her chosen. “Conner received magic from you, Marinette. But as a result of the process made to make him, his magic is naturally rooted in stability and grounding.”

Conner blinked in surprise at that. “Is that how I’m able to have Kryptonian powers and magic?”

“In a way, yes. Your magic has focus in boosting your abilities and stabilization. When you used it to deal with the warring magic in your siblings, you did help stabilize them, but you…um…apparently convinced them that this is how they should be.”

Conner’s eyes widened. He looked up at the gaping Marinette and Adrien in shock. As well as growing horror as the full extent of what he’d seemingly done hit him.

“I…I didn’t mean to.”

Well, he did, apparently. But he didn’t know this would happen. He hadn’t meant to change them—or keep them changed. He’d just…wanted to anchor them. To keep them alive and safe. He hadn’t wanted to force anything on them.

In an instant, arms enveloped him and he was in the comforting and reassuring hold of his mother.

“You did everything you could for them and more.”

He felt his eyes watering.

“I’m so proud of you, Conner.”

Okay, yeah. Definitely watering.

Another hand rested on his shoulder. He glanced to the side and saw a smiling Adrien.

“It’s a surprise. And it’ll be different. But we can make this work.”

“But…but I changed them.” Conner murmured, uncertain.

“They were already changed.” Plagg replied in a blasé manner, floating lazily nearby. “You just held them together so the warring magics wouldn’t rip them apart. And given that they’re each more magical than you—no offense, kid—you aren’t capable of forcing them into a form if they didn’t want it.”

Conner froze. “Wait…what?”

Plagg rolled his eyes. “If they wanted to be dolls again, they would be. Keep up, kid.”

Tikki gave a giggle. “I think they wanted to be like you, Conner.”

He blushed. “They…what?”

But she had a point, didn’t she? The Dolls didn’t get to move about as openly as he did. They weren’t understood easily by anyone outside of himself, their parents, or the kwamis. They struggled to do things he could accomplish with ease. And though they liked that he would carry and hug them…they sometimes looked like they wanted to return the favor.

Conner had been jealous of them. Wishing in some ways he had been more like them. He’d never considered they could have felt the same towards him.

Even in their sleep, the three clung to him.

They were like this…because they’d wanted it. And he’d helped them keep it.

He drew them a little closer. And in turn allowed himself to be drawn closer as well when Marinette and Adrien also joined them in the growing cuddle pile.

All six of them stayed together for a while after that.

There would be things to do because of this. Arrangements would need to be made. Explanations given. History and paperwork and legalities.

But for now, they were together and safe.

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 23

Contrary to what he’d said while tired and sex-drunk, Buster did care about being seen with Nelly. After he’d driven her back to her apartment Monday morning and she’d hurried in to drop off her bags, then hurried back to the car, he dropped her off a few blocks from the United Artists lot. He hazarded a quick kiss on the lips, but that was it. He knew as well as anyone that to keep a mistress you had to be quiet about it, at least if your wife was as concerned about preserving the illusion of a happy marriage as Natalie was. It was a price he was willing to pay.

Now alone, he drove the half-hour to Culver City, reflecting on the weekend. It felt nice to be wild for a girl again, made him forget his troubles until the M-G-M sign loomed up ahead. His gut sank. Before he signed the contract, he’d asked for his team to be put on the payroll. The studio had granted his wish, but what he hadn’t bargained on was becoming the proud new recipient of every Tom, Dick, and Harry who wanted to make their mark in moving pictures gumming up his simple story with the goddamndest stuff: jewel heists, damsels in distress, a full military band. The days of Steamboat Bill seemed far, far away, and he longed for his old scenario department. Lately the mornings had consisted of sitting around a table with a baker’s dozen of men, including Thalberg, passing around a script that grew heavier and heavier with harebrained ideas with each passing day, like a ship sinking under the weight of too much cargo.

The image of that ship put him in mind of a gag. By the time he was inside and put in his standing order of coffee and donuts with a secretary, the gag had taken shape.

Bruckman was in the room with the big table. Buster could see that he was trying to pretend that things were as normal as they’d ever been, but he looked like he felt just as much like a fish out of water as Buster did. Some of the paid writers helloed Buster and asked him if he’d had a nice weekend. 

“Sure. Did some quail-hunting in the Valley.” He smiled to himself, remembering a naked Nelly clinging to his neck in the lake. 

Two young pretty girls came into the room with the coffee and donuts. Munching a donut, Buster wasted no time in introducing his idea to Bruckman.

“Suppose I start filming with my old camera to impress my girl, but I do it all wrong. Get into the craziest scrapes. I could be near a ship as it’s getting ready to be launched, thinking I’m about to get the shot of a lifetime, only the ship launches me with it,” he said. 

“And you darn near topple off of it and lose your camera,” said Bruckman. 

“Exactly,” Buster said. 

“I’ve just written a part where your character bumps into a dame whose son has just been kidnapped,” one of the writers, a medium-height fellow with a brown mustache, chimed in. “She’s willing to give you all the tea in China if you just help her find her Billy. You’re willing to do it. It’s your chance for a ticker-tape parade if you find him. You know, to impress your girl.”

“Kidnapped?” Buster said, not sure he’d heard right. 

“Sure. It fits perfectly.”

By now, Thalberg had entered the room and seated himself at the table. He took a donut and smiled in a benevolent way that spelled trouble. 

“No, no. It’s the mob Buster comes up against. They think he’s a spy and take him for a hostage, but he’s more useful as a stooge, see?”

Buster found himself wishing he’d poured a little whiskey into his coffee when no one was looking. It was bad enough to have to put everything down on a script for the first time in his career in pictures and even worse to entertain this kind of dreck. He looked over to Bruckman, but he just gave him a helpless look. At this rate, they’d never get around to filming. 

Filming. His mind crowded with everything he was obliged to do in the next six weeks, premieres (including Steamboat’s), parties, benefits, and not least of all traveling to New York City to begin filming. He thought sinkingly of Nelly. 

The worries continued on the drive back home late that afternoon. He worried his nails with his teeth as he thought about juggling it all.  At the Villa, he parked in the drive and bustled his way through the magnificent mahogany doors with his suitcases. Before departing from the studio, he’d checked the car for any trace of Nelly, a stray stocking, a dropped bracket, but there was nothing to give him away. As he stepped into the foyer, he was struck with an unfamiliarity that sometimes came over him. This big, clean, airy house, so cold and charmless—was it really his? He’d obsessed over it endlessly when it was being constructed, sparing no detail, never sure of what possessed him beyond the thrill that he could and a desire to impress. Impress his fellow stars? He thought, setting his suitcases down and running a hand across the back of his neck. No. 

To impress Natalie. 

He called for her. “Hello?” There was no answer and he tried again. “Hello?”

“Hello?” But it was only Eleanor, coming around the corner looking worried. “Mr. K—Buster, how are you? Shall I take your suitcases?” It had taken a while, but he’d finally gotten her to stop calling him Mr. Keaton. 

“No, I’ll take care of that. Have you seen Natalie? Is she around?”

“She’s out I’m afraid,” Eleanor said, with an apologetic smile. 

He could hear the kids outside somewhere, giggling and screaming. “Alright. If you see her, just tell her I’m home.”

He took his suitcases up to his room. It was cool and dark, and managed to smell both stale and clean at the same time. The bed was made, all the corners of the sheets tightly tucked. He drew his curtains and opened the balcony doors. 

“Hey, you hooligans!” he cried down to Bobby and Jimmy, who were running around on the lawn under Connie’s watchful eye. 

“Daddy!” they said, racing to the balcony. 

He went down to them and allowed them to wrestle him to the ground where they swarmed on top of him, then demanded to be swung around by the arms in the dangerous way that Nate disapproved of. A little voice in the back of his head lectured him about his failures as a father and husband, but he let the feeling of his sons’ hands in his smother it. Nelly was distracted for her entire shift Monday, remembering moments from the weekend. The assistant prop manager had to remind her to get her head out of the clouds when she fetched the wrong dinner service twice in a row. She could scarcely wait to get home, where the phone would surely ring and Buster would be on the other line asking her how her day had been. He had promised to be in touch when he’d dropped her off a block before the studio. That night, however, she went to bed disappointed. A worming doubt began to spoil her recollections of their time at the cabin. 

The phone did ring after work the next day, but it wasn’t Buster. 

“Nelly, is that you?” her mother said on the other end. Barely waiting for an assurance, she cried, “Ruthie had the baby! It’s a girl and they haven’t named her yet, but they think Violet or Virginia, which do you like better? Virginia? I like Virginia myself. She’s seven pounds even. We think she might have brown hair instead of blonde; it’s rather dark if you ask me, but of course there’s not much of it.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” said Nelly, wondering why her heart wasn’t in the congratulations. “How’s she doing? How’s Ruthie?” She’d never been able to fathom the birth process, the pushing and tearing and bleeding and all the rest. With what mothers had to go through, it was a miracle anyone ever had a second child, let alone a third like Ruthie.

“Oh, she’s tired but she’s an old hand by now. It wasn’t an hour later she wanted some chicken broth and now she’s bullied Gerald into letting her have some ice cream. Lord knows where he found it this time of year but nothing’s too good for her where he’s concerned.”

“And June and Eddie?”

“Eddie wanted a brother and declares he won’t see the poor soul, but you can imagine June is over the moon. She’s brought up her dollies’ clothes for her. Thank goodness they’re too small or we’d be in for quite a fight.”

As Nelly stood in the hall with the receiver to her ear, her mother chattered on about what time Ruthie’s labor started, how it had progressed, and what the doctor had done when he’d gotten there. She plotted with some guilt about how to cut the conversation short; she was worried she’d miss Buster if he called. 

“And you, how are you, dear?” her mother said, as if sensing Nelly’s intentions.

“Oh, I’m okay,” she said, a bit hastily. 

“How are you getting on with the moving pictures?”

Nelly explained briefly about her role in Tempest, which she’d mentioned in her last letter home. 

“What about that Keaton film? When will that come out? Your father says he intends to take the whole family to see it.”

“Buster—Mr. Keaton’s cutting it right now. April, I suspect.”

Not noticing her daughter’s slip, her mother pressed on. “When can we expect you back home?”

“I’m awful busy. Autumn?”

That was not good enough for Lena. “What’s wrong with summer? Or late spring? We miss you terribly and you know Harold Jenkins is wondering how you’ve been. I’ve given him your address so he can write. Have you gotten any letters yet?”

Nelly gritted her teeth unconsciously at the mention of Halitosis Harold. “Not yet. But Mother, I really have to be going.” She racked her brain for an excuse. “I’m having dinner tonight with a fellow I work with.” It was the wrong thing to say, because Lena became gleeful and effusive. “Oh Nelly, you didn’t mention you were seeing someone. What’s his name? Is he handsome?”

Nelly flushed. “It’s Joseph,” she said, thinking of Buster’s given name. “He’s very handsome, but he’ll be here any minute. I really must go.”

“I’ll call tomorrow, perhaps. I want you to tell me all about your new beau and I presume the baby will have a name by then.”

“That’s fine, Mother. I love you. I’ve got to go.” With a few more I-love-yous and talk-to-you-soons, Nelly was able to hang up the phone. The conversation had left her feeling unsettled and wrung-out. She supposed she should pick up a congratulations card for Ruthie on her lunch break tomorrow. Waiting for Buster to call, she was too nervous to eat anything more than an apple. She tried to read another chapter of Mistress Nell Gwyn, but couldn’t concentrate. Her mind was lying under the stars with Buster as he strummed his ukulele. 

It was a severe blow when another night passed with no word from him. The doubts were full-blown now. Her biggest worry wasn’t that he was preoccupied with his wife or even another girl, but that their time together hadn’t meant what she thought it had and that she had handed him her heart when she should have kept it more carefully guarded, only giving it to him when they had been going together longer and he had proven his worth. 

She went to work on Wednesday morning feeling blue despite the shining sun. The sensible part of her tried to push her out of her gloominess, reminding her that it had only been forty-eight hours and Buster was liable to be busy with his work, but nevertheless she moped around the prop department, not even caring to put on the radio for a diversion. On her lunch break she walked to a corner shop, having no appetite anyway, and chose a simple card to congratulate her sister. It had a Kewpie on the front clutching a telephone and read: I heard your home is honored / By a tiny little guest / I am rejoicing with you / That you are so greatly blest. As she walked back to the studio, she tried to get her head around the fact that she was an aunt three times over now. 

She returned to the prop warehouse around half past noon. Immediately she noticed a large vase sitting on the desk where she did the books. It was heaped with a snowy mountain of gardenias, jasmine, and myrtle. She could smell the flowers from a yard away. Propped against the vase was a record in a paper sleeve, which she examined. There was a cartoon of Paul Whiteman’s fat, mustachioed face on the front of the record and on each side a different song, “ ‘Taint So, Honey, ‘Taint So” and “That’s My Weakness Now.” A small card with her name on it was tucked into the flowers. She looked around the room for a sign of who might have delivered it, but no one was in sight. Her heart beating faster, she opened the card.

She’s got eyes of blue, I never cared for eyes of blue but she’s got eyes of blue and that’s my weakness now. 

BK 

P.S. See you tomorrow around 6?

“Got a beau now, huh?” said Gracie, one of the other girls who helped out in the department, walking into the room. Bold as brass, she leaned over Nelly’s shoulder to read the card. “Who’s BK?”

“Buddy King,” Nelly said, without a moment’s hesitation, blushing. “Did you see who delivered it?”

“I did,” said Gracie, rolling her eyes. “Florist dropped it off up front and I was the lucky gal told to bring it on back. Thought it was for me at first. ‘Course that would have been a shock. Bennie don’t do flowers or nothing like that. You’re lucky.”

“I am,” said Nelly, burying her face in the flowers. A waft of spring filled her sense and along with it a feeling that was very close to intoxication.

She was the center of attention during her walk to the tram and then her tram ride home, holding as she was such a huge arrangement of flowers. The commonest remark from strangers was, “Someone must care for you very much.”

And her face reddening, she would respond, “I guess he does.”

Note: Remember, Buster Keaton really did have a maid named Eleanor at the Villa. Confusing, but she wasn’t his Eleanor.

Also, after listening to this song since November, I finally have an excuse to share it with you! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAfVQpzQB3g

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Tuesday, January 19th

 song: epiphany-taylor swift

chapter twenty-two: epiphany

Zeke was working at his desk when he heard his brother’s voice down the hall. It must have been time for Eren’s appointment. Zeke had been too involved in the paperwork he was doing to even realize the time.

His last patient had been a wreck.

More so than normal. Everything was in order now.

At least Zeke had hoped.

Zeke remembered the words Pieck had said to him. Maybe Zeke already had the family he had longed for.

But he still had unfinished business with one part of his family.

He looked over at the picture of his mother on his desk.

Dina had got the short end of every stick. Her family had mostly passed away by the time she had married Grisha and the living family…

Well, they wanted nothing to do with her.

Zeke thought of Levi.

His mother had been cast out due to being pregnant while Zeke’s mother had been cast out for marrying a man she loved.

Zeke made peace with Grisha, at least in his head.

But his mother’s family?

The ones who abandoned her?

Those he wanted revenge on.

Now he had the perfect opportunity.

Well, at least he thought he did.

He still had a lot of things to get in order before he could.

“Have you read the file yet?” he heard Levi’s voice behind him. It caused Zeke to jump.

“How did you get back here?” Zeke asked as he turned around. “Also I thought Mikasa was bringing Eren.”

“I walked through the door. How else would I get back here? It’s snowing. She doesn’t like to drive in the snow.”

“Right. Parents’ car accident. You mentioned that.”

“So did you read the file?”

“No,” Zeke sighed before standing up and closing the door.

“Why not? You’ve been bugging me about it long enough,” Levi said before taking his usual spot and sitting down.

“Because I know there’s going to be a lot of shit in there from the Reiss family about my mom,” Zeke said before sitting back down at his desk.

“It’s not an opinion. It’s only only facts in there. What would Kenny do with an opinion?” Levi huffed.

“I do not know!” Zeke yelled. He sighed and then took off his glasses. He ran both of his hands down his face before putting his glasses back on.

“Are you doing okay over there?” Levi asked after a moment.

“Yes...no….maybe. I do not know right now. I am worried about Eren. I am worried about my friends. I am worried about that damn file. It may have more information that I am not ready to know about the shitty Reiss family. My mother was the only surviving Fritz. Now she’s gone and the Reiss family couldn’t even be bothered to care about her passing. Just because she married Grisha. Her entire life was ruined by that man.”

“But she did love him.”

“Unfortunately for everyone involved, she went to her death loving him. Have you read the file?” Zeke asked as he looked at Levi.

“Yeah, there’s some very interesting things in there. You should give it a read,” Levi said before he stood up. “And Eren’s fine. He’s better than the last time I saw him. I’d say something if he wasn’t.”

“Yes, I suppose you would.”

“Read the damn file.”

“I will. I will read it this week.”

“Good,” Levi said before he walked out of the door, closing it behind him.

----------

The snow was picking up as Mikasa watched it fall. She still hated the snow. She hated driving in it more than anything. She had been surprised when Levi had told her he was taking Eren to therapy and not to worry about it. After feeding the dogs and taking them on a walk, she had begun her daily chores. They hadn’t taken as long as Mikasa would have liked.

So she sat in the sun room watching the snow. She was worried about Levi and Eren’s return. She was worried if Sasha and Historia had made it to the indoor farmer’s market safely.

“Stop staring at it,” Ymir said before poking Mikasa in the shoulder. “Historia and Sasha are fine. I’m sure Levi and Eren will be back soon.”

Mikasa simply nodded.

“Still having writer’s block?” Ymir asked as she sat down in a chair.

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

“Maybe you just need a break. You don’t have to write a song everyday, you know.”

“I know it’s just...it’s the way I can get my feelings out, you know? Better than a real journal. I can make allegories and no one will know what I’m talking about.”

“I disagree. Some of us know who your songs are about.”

“Really? Then how many songs have I written about you and Historia?”

“I dunno. Like six.”

Mikasa smirked.

“Wait, is it more?”

“But I thought you knew who my songs are about.”

“Did you write a song about all of us?”

Mikasa nodded.

“How many?”

“A lot.”

“Okay, what song is about Levi and Hange? Because there’s got to be at least one I’m guessing.”

“There’s a few,” Mikasa said before she moved over to her keyboard. “There’s a few just about Levi though.”

"Really? You should play one of them,” Ymir said before she moved over and sat down on the piano bench in front of the keyboard.

Mikasa sat down next to her and began to play.

The song sounded melancholy.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}. ”

Ymir’s father had been a soldier like Levi. It wasn’t something she spoke on very much. She wondered if her father had felt like that. She couldn’t remember much about him. Had what he saw been too much for him in the end?

Mikasa and Ymir hadn’t realized that Levi and Eren had returned. They didn’t know that they were in the living room, hearing every word.

“ {lyrics redacted due to copyright}.”

Eren made his way over to the sun room.

It was a good thing as Levi had started to tear up. He looked at Sawney and Bean. Both were sitting there, wiggling.

Sometimes Levi wondered if he had done right by Mikasa, as every parent did. But to have seen her grow, to see her music grow with her. He was proud of her.

He had ideas of who all the songs were about. It wasn’t rocket science for him to figure out. He and Hange had even made a guessing game out of her music.

“Eren! How long have you been here?” Mikasa said as she stopped playing the piano.

“Just got in with Levi.”

Levi wiped the tears away before making his way over to the sun room with the dogs in tow.

“What are we doing for lunch, brats?” Levi asked as he leaned in the doorway.

“It’s your turn to cook, Ymir,” Mikasa reminded her.

“Alright, so what are we ordering?”

“Hey!” Ymir countered.

“Go see what Annie wants,” Levi said as he walked out of the sun room.

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

The Blouse family farm stall at the indoor farmer’s market was doing very well. In fact, due to Historia’s personality, they were doing much better than they had in previous years.

Sasha didn’t speak much about the year with the drought where they almost lost the farm. Connie’s family had helped so much. She would never be able to repay his family for all the help they had given her family.

This year, the winter crops were doing great, they were preparing for spring corps.

Things were looking up for Sasha.

In fact, Niccolo had finally got the guts to actually call Sasha for once.

And it didn't go well.

In fact, it went in a completely bad direction.

They had been chatting about how Connie was searching for something to take on his date with Ruth Kline. Somehow, Sasha had let it slip that Connie had put a lot of effort into their dates especially after he had taken her virginity.

"Wait, Connie was your first?"

"Uh, yeah. Why does that matter?" Sasha asked.

“But you’re still friends…”

“Yeah? Is that a problem?”

“Is that a problem? Yeah, it’s a big fucking problem.”

“Wait, why? I thought you liked Connie! I thought you guys gamed together.”

“Yeah, we do but that’s besides the point.”

“Please inform me of what the point is then.”

“He’s your first. That’s special, right? That means something. He means something to you.”

“Well, yeah, he’s my best friend. Look, I really don’t like what you’re saying right now.”

“I’m just saying that there’s something there. And you could be tempted.”

“Tempted? What because I can’t control myself? Because I’m not loyal to a relationship that has been nothing but sexting and far too little conversation? Let's not forget that you forgot to tell the name of your band and that Eren was in it.”

“How was I supposed to know that you knew Eren?”

“Gee, I don’t know. The photos on my Instagram? The photos on Facebook? Oh, wait. That would require you to take an active interest in what I actually do.”

“I take an interest in what you do!”

“Then why do our conversations only revolve around sex, band stuff, and your culinary career?”

“Well, that’s because...you don’t really do much.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wait, that came out wrong.”

“This conversation is over.”

“Sasha, wait.”

“No. Fuck off, Niccolo. Don’t call me.”

“Sasha…”

Sasha hung up on him, not wishing to hear anything else. She sat down on her bed, frustrated by the whole situation.

Sure, there was a part of her that understood that Niccolo was just jealous.

But there was literally nothing for him to be jealous of!

Her relationship with Connie was nothing more than platonic now. She loved Connie. She truly did and no one would ever come between them.

They had fallen out of love after high school. It hadn’t been a bad break up or even slightly messy.

Some relationships just run their course and they’re over.

That had been Connie and Sasha but despite that, they had stayed the best of friends. Something that would never change. No matter who they dated.

Niccolo though….

Sasha had hoped that he would step up.

Take her on a real date.

Spend time with her.

But he hadn’t.

Then his jealousy right now?

That wasn’t something Sasha was willing to put up. Her friends came first before whatever romantic partner came along.

If Niccolo didn’t like that, then he was free to leave.

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

At band practice, everyone noticed the change in Sasha’s mood.

She didn’t have to say anything. She just wasn’t her normal perky self.

“Alright, spit it out,” Ymir said after they finished playing an older song.

“What?” Sasha asked as four girls stared at her.

“Something is bothering you,” Mikasa spoke up next.

““Yes, no. I don’t know. Things aren’t going with Niccolo,” Sasha said.

“Why?” Annie asked.

“Well, there’s the whole we can barely talk to one another in person factor. Oh and he doesn’t like that I’m very good friends with my ex,” Sasha sighed as she leaned up against the wall.

“Does he not realize how small of a town this is? I mean Annie’s ex is building our studio and Armin doesn’t care,” Historia said as she crossed her arms across her chest.

“I guess not. I’m just not going to talk to Niccolo for a few days. Connie and I were years ago! He just happens to be one of my best friends. He’s been seeing Ruth Kline, you remember her? She was in our geometry class. She doesn’t care that Connie and I are still friends. Niccolo should trust me, right?” Sasha crossed her arms across her chest.

“He should. Maybe you’re right about not talking to him for a bit,” Mikasa said.

“I am. I’m not going to let him bring me down. The farm is doing well. We’re getting a studio.”

“There’s my Sasha!” Ymir yelled as she moved behind the drum set and wrapped her arm around Sasha’s shoulders. “But seriously, say the word. He’ll be dead.”

“Ymir, you can’t solve everything with violence,” Historia said as she rolled her eyes.

“Says the girl who saw me at the supermarket and punched me in the face,” Eren said as he leaned in the doorway of the sun room.

“Okay but you kind of deserved that,” Historia defended.

“Yeah, no. You’re right. So who are you killing?” he asked.

“Considering your friends with the enemy, we cannot reveal our plan to you,” Ymir replied.

Annie rolled her eyes, “it’s Niccolo. He freaked out because Connie and Sasha are friends.”

Eren frowned. “Weird. I thought he knew that. Either way, I’m not getting involved but if you want me to talk to him, Sasha….”

Sasha shook her head. “I’m just going to give him some space and then we’ll go from there.”

“I thought you’d be more of a wreck after therapy,” Annie said as she looked at Eren.

“Huh? Oh. No. I’m good. Magath seems to know what he’s doing sometimes.”

“He was even okay directly afterwards,” Mikasa chimed in.

“Thanks for your confidence.”

“No, it’s just...when I went to therapy, I used to feel emotionally drained afterwards,” Annie explained.

“You went to therapy?”

“I did too. It’s a shitty little thing they force you into when you’re in foster care. So they can say they’re taking care of your mental health. It’s mostly just a therapist who doesn’t want to be there and asking you a shit ton of questions without actually listening to your answers,” Ymir said before she began just playing random chords on her base.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Annie said with a shrug.

“I had to go for a while after my parents died. It wasn’t too bad,” Mikasa shrugged.

“If you get a therapist that actually cares, you’re lucky. The ones assigned by the government...it’s clear they hate it there,” Ymir said before she stopped playing.

“Try being in the military,” Levi called from the living room.

“Does Zeke get paid by the military?” Ymir asked.

“No. He just specializes in PTSD,” Eren explained.

“Why that of all things?” Sasha asked.

“I don’t know. His mentor did too. He’s really proud of Zeke. His name is Tom Ksaver and he had a pretty messed up past from what Zeke told me.”

“Alright, Jaeger. Get out. We’ve got to practice,” Ymir said before playing her bass again.

[theonekid123]

Seashells and Dandelions

Summary: Marco Bodt’s childhood friend joins the scouts in hopes of making a better life, Marco being the person he is refuses to let her do it alone and insists he comes with her. They go through highs, (making friends, growing a stronger friendship, and making memories with each other and their new friends) and lows. When Marco’s death hit Y/N it hit hard and they sought out the comfort of Armin, the two being previous friends to get closer and eventually form a romantic relationship. However living in a world of demons can take a toll on relationships platonic and romantic.

Chapter 3

“No Jean I am not going to talk you up to Mikasa, STOP ASKING" Jean was a great friend don't get me wrong but I am not a wingman.

"Ok but can you please at least-" I cut him off before he could continue his pleading

"NO" god he was persistent

"If you do it for me I'll talk good about you to Armin '' He replied wiggling his eyebrows. I was not about to let Jean ruin what I have with Armin. We're just friends and I don't need him thinking weird of me.

"There's nothing bad about me to talk about" I responded, obviously there was but Jean couldn't have known any of that.

"The I guess I'll just tell him about the time you were cleaning the stables out and-" my eyes went wide, I thought i was alone when that happened

"Ok fine horse ass" I said, stomping away from him.

.

"Jean's not that bad. Ok he's pretty bad but still" I was currently hanging out with Mikasa, Annie and Christa. Somehow Jean got brought up in a conversation so I did what I promised and forced myself you talk about him in a non mockery type of way

"Do you like him?" Christa asked excitedly.

"No, I think Marco has a thing for him" I explained

"Who do you all like" I smirked as I looked at the girls around me

.

"She literally said she didn't like you like that" 

"Ok but maybe what she meant was-"

"No. Jean" I told the boy sitting in front of me while Sasha and Connie were losing it. They thought it was hilarious. Which I kinda was. But they were giving me a headache so I got up and walked out to the porch. The sun was almost set but it was so pretty this time of evening. The spring flowers were blooming. There were dandelions in bunches scattered across the base. My favorite flowers

"Damn, Persephone really outdid herself this time" I whispered to myself, not noticing the person not too far to my right.

"Who's Persephone?" I jumped at the familiar voice and turned to see Armin looking at me with curious eyes

"Oh, I.." i looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear

"Do you really wanna know" I asked and he nodded his head after a moment of what I assume to be thinking. A smile crept up on my face as I suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him along with me into the forest. Where I knew there wouldn't be anyone around. I had stopped running and let go of Armin’s hand as I crouched down to pick a dandelion. I got up and put it in Armin’s hands, he held it delicately 

"You can't tell anyone what I'm about to say" I said looking serious. He nodded his head looked more curious than previously 

"Persephone is the goddess of Spring, she's also the queen of the underworld. '' Marco always told me that I got some sort of "glint" in my eyes when i would talk about mythology  

"You've met her?" Armin asked, eyes wide with excitement 

"I read it from a book I found. It's kinda illegal actually" I explained scratching me neck embarrassed to admit I had illegal information

"Do you know about the ocean?!" Armin practically screamed

"You know about the ocean?" I asked probably as excited as him. 

"Tell me more about Persephone and we can talk about the ocean. Please" Armin said grabbing your hand and pulling you down to sit with him

.

"That much salt?" I lost track of how long we had been talking but it was definitely dark and cold.

"I know it's crazy right. One day I'm going to go to the ocean with Eren and Mikasa…...and maybe you" he mumbled the last part but I heard it

"I would like that," I responded looking at my hands in my lap. I looked up to see Armin already looking at me. Damn he made me nervous 

"I think I like you, more than a friend '' Armin blurted out and then blushed a deep shade of red. I grabbed his hand and leaned over taking the dandelion he was still holding in his other hand and tucking it into his hair behind his ear then placed my hand on his shoulder

"Me too" I said, giving him a quick kiss of the cheek and pulling away quickly. He grabbed the collar of my shirt, softly, and pulled me closer to him before he softly pressed his lips onto mine for a short, sweet kiss.

.

.

.

"You killed him," I said, walking out from behind a pile of wood. I knew I shouldn't have eavesdropped. All I thought I would hear was some gossip about the other cadets. Not...this.

"Y/N! What are you doing" Reiner exclaimed. Annie and Bertold both looked over. I couldn't move all I could do was stand there. I felt numb and betrayed. People I thought were my friends...were my enemies.

"Y/N listen plea-" I cut Annie off. She doesn't get to talk, none of them do

"No, stop. Why? Why would you-I don't understand, I thought we were friends. I LOOKED UP TO YOU RIENER! I-I trusted you, all of you and you killed marco. WHY!?'' At this point I could feel the tears streaming down my face, my head was swarming around. I didn't understand. They didn't say anything, nothing

"Are you going to kill me now, are you just going to betray everyone" 

"Y/N please just listen" Bertotld said taking a step forward 

.

.

.

"I know who the female Titan is" I said as I played with Armin's hair

"What do you mean, you have an theory?" he said looking up slightly from his resting position

"Annie" he got up and put the book he was reading to the side.

"I know" he sighed while sitting across from me as I sat up

"I know who the colossal and armored titan are too" his eyes widened and he looked hurt, probably because I never told him.

"Do we trust them?" He asked wanting to know if they were going to get betrayed again

"Yes. But I swore no one would know unless they came back to act or…..they killed me." He looked confused, but I would be to if I was in his place

"I'm telling you in case I die, you need to calculate how to use the information. If it gets out too soon they might act out and I might die" maybe it was manipulative and selfish but I can't die, not without knowing I made the people I love proud.

"I understand"

.

.

.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, I swear" they looked convinced, I've never broken a promise other than the one I made to Ms.Bodt. I know I was being irrational, I should tell everyone but I just couldn't. I couldn't betray them the way they did me. And maybe I was being selfish but I didn't want to die either, I couldn't. I had to stay alive for Marco, for everyone who died. I had to make sure they didn't die in vain. Marco would've done the same thing, he was so understanding and accepting. I had to do this. But one thing for sure, I'm not losing any more friends because of these people.

"I'm not doing this for you, don't get it twisted, I'm doing what Marco would've done. If you would've given him the chance" I said turning to walk away, but not before I left them with a statement that they could interpret however they wanted.

" If anything gets worse then now, I won't hesitate to expose each and everyone of you" .

.

.

"I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime" you broke the peaceful silence and Armin stopped writing. You laid half awake in the small bed as Aemin wrote at the desk on the other side of the room. His back facing you. He wasn't sure if you were just talking nonsense or if you were aiming your words towards him.

"I'm pretty sure you're that love of mine" at this point he turned all the way around, now straddling the back of the chair as he looked at you, who was laying halfway off the bed. Your forearm draped over your eyes, voice slightly hoarse from just coming back from a mission. You had his attention whether you meant to have it or not. You were thinking about all the peaceful times you had with Armin. A specific time popped into your head, playing on repeat. The beginning of spring, you had a day off and you invited Armin to your special place. Since he had shown you his. It was far off, not too far away from the base, a field that was blooming with dandelions. They have always been your favorite, a few trees scattered the area. You had picked so many dandelions and made a wish on every one. Armin had asked what you wished for and you told him you couldn't tell or it wouldn't come true. He didn't think anything of it.

"I'm in a field of dandelions, wishing on every one that you'd be mine" the memories of times you would take him to this special spot came flashing back into Armins mind, how you wished on so many. He felt warm, not the embarrassment, kind of warm. The kind he felt when he was with his grandpa, his parents. He felt loved, but I was different this time.

"I see forever in your eyes, I feel ok when I see you smile" you had slowly began to sit up and looked over, expecting to see Armin with his back turned to you, not him resting his chin on his arms, that were crossed over the top of the chair, with a sweet smile plastered on his face. You got embarrassed and turned to avoid his eyes.

"Please" you heard his soft quiet voice, you looked at him as he spoke a single word, it sounded almost desperate

"Continue" and you did 

"I think that you are the one for me" you seemed a little self conscious in this moment so Armin gave you a nod, he knew it reassured you

"When you're looking at me I've never felt so alive and free, when you're looking at me I've never felt so happy" Armin stood up and walked over to the bed, grabbing your hands gently and pulling you off the bed. Not soon after he had his arms wrapped around your body, whispering 'I love you'. You felt safe and loved. To think it began with you just saying whatever came to your mind.

. 

.

.

(I took a lot of inspiration from the song “Dandelions” by Ruth B in the end”

[jordanrosenburg]

Big Mouth Season 3 - Very Much Still Important

Review of Season 2 and 1 , major spoilers ahead

Alright, I finished watching season 3 the other day, and I have to say bravo to the writers, because they always manage to leave us wanting more. What truly awaits these pre-teens this summer? I’m happy that they’re done with seventh grade, but will the next season be about summer vacation, or will we get to see them go right into eighth grade? There’s been news of a spin off about the world the hormone monsters live in, will that be what holds us over until season 4?

Right from the first episode, I knew it was going to be a good season. The show continues to have a good balance between what is happening to both girls and boys at this age. I remember being in the seventh grade, and second guessing every single fashion choice I made. I didn’t really have a figure until ninth grade, but there were other girls that were already blossoming, and I felt self-conscious. Was I pretty enough? Am I frumpy? Is my hair too frizzy?

This season did another great job of showing not only what boys are going through at this age, but also the girls. Because the boys can’t control themselves, and because no one tells them to, the girls are forced into an absurd dress code by this scum bag:

I think we have all had a Mr. Lizer in our lives at some point. The guy who comes off as nice and caring is really just misogynistic and creepy. He mutters under his breath about he hates the girls, especially Jessi. Not to mention that he made Lola think the foot rub was all on her. At 13 of course she would think, how would she know any better? What he did was disgusting and wrong, and I’m glad he got fired. 

I’m proud of the girls for taking their bodies back. It was brave of them to take a stand and show that the dress code was stupid. They may not have done it in the best way, but they still proved a point. 

Nick and Andrew are a topic I’d like to discuss. We’ve know since season 1 that these boys have been best friends for a long time. We also know that they’ve been growing apart since season 1. Andrew was the first to go through the hormonal change, and Nick was left to catch up. In season 2 Nick went through three different hormone monsters while trying to figure things out with a girl he liked. Andrew stayed hung up on Missy, and somehow got involved with Lola, which just messed up everything else for him. He slowly started to realize that he was becoming a lot like his father. This season Nick got obsessed with his phone, and even though Andrew made many attempts to talk and hang out, he realized that Nick really is just a douchebag. They had their seasonal fight, and instead of becoming friends again, Andrew expressed how he really felt. Nick stopped being there for him. I don’t think Andrew is in the right, but he did recognize that their friendship had become toxic, and enough was enough. 

The only time Nick was there for Andrew this season was when Andrew started to lust after his cousin. I’ll say it - that shit was messed up. I was grossed out that they went there, but this could be some real shit that boys go through, idk. And Nick kind of encouraged it and didn’t at the same time. The whole thing was weird. 

Nick was wrestling with the fact that Jay was basically living in his house. That’s a major change to go through. He also betrayed Andrew by kissing Missy, and then lying about it. Andrew doesn’t own Missy, and she can do whatever she wants, but neither one of them thought about how the kiss would hurt the people around them. And then when Nick realized he didn’t like her like, he just cast her aside. 

Missy went through a lot this season too. She finally got a hormone monstress.

Side note, did anyone else feel sad that Connie didn’t say bubble bath once this season? No one else? Okay, moving on. This new monstress pushes Missy out of her comfort zone. Missy is able to keep some of her boundaries, but something about acting in that play opened something up for her. I loved when her and Jay wrote the fan fiction together. I can’t remember when I first started reading fic, may have been in seventh or eighth grade, and I always thought it was weird thing for me to like. Then I had mentioned it to a friend in ninth grade, and she’s still my best friend ten years later! I was happy to see that Jay didn’t make Missy feel weird or ashamed. I wished we could’ve seen more of this new friendship. AND Missy was the one to get the uniforms disbanded by wearing her same old clothes. I hope she’s able to find a balance with her newfound self. 

And poor Jay, he is one of the funniest characters on this show. You never know what he’s going to say, but it’s usually obscene. I lost it when he said something like, “my balls are going to shit”. 

We get another close look at Jay’s home life. His family leaves him at home for spring break, and he tries to not let it bother him. He embraces Nick’s family, and becomes a better person by living with them. They discover that he has ADHD and just needed aderol. Unfortunately, Jay sells his medication to his friends, which makes him go back to the way he was. TAKE YOUR MEDS MY FRIENDS! Jay eventually goes back home, and shows what he can add to his family, and they finally accept him. Jay too also comes to terms with his sexuality, and discloses to everyone that he’s bisexual, and he’s okay with it. But no one takes him seriously. He has a heart to heart with the new girl Ali, who told everyone she was pansexual. I know Andrew Goldberg has apologized with how he went about this, but I’m just gonna say that Ali came on a little too strong. All sexualities and gender are valid, periodt. 

Jay also called out his friends for fetishizing the fact that it’s “hot” that Ali likes everyone, but it’s not as cool when he comes out as bisexual. He felt hurt and unvalidated. We see you Jay! 

Now it’s time for our girl Jessi. 

This girl CANNOT catch a fucking break. I was happy to see her figure her body out. That can be straight up awkward, and it can make you want to give up. I love how they showed it with a water rapid, good use of metaphor. And she has been such a good friend to Matthew, covering for him with Adrian. But who is there for Jessi? At one point it was her, Andrew, and Nick, and one of them said, “At least we have each other. Virgins til college”. At that age I can see how that might be a bad thing, but I know a lot of people who were virgins in college. They didn’t graduate that way, but they came in that way. That was the most I saw of the three of them really interact this season. It’s crazy that these last three seasons are all things that happened over the course of a school year. 

I need space to say, I am fucking done with Jessi’s mom. Jessi has been more than gracious with letting her mom become who she is. Shannon should be able to explore, and it’s okay that she got divorced, but she has not gone about anything in a good way, and now she’s just starting to be selfish. When Jessi hears her mother orgasm, is it hilarious for us as the audience, of course, but as a 13 year old girl, I would be so mad and mortified. Not only does Jessi have to deal with Shannon and Cantor Dina breaking up, but her dad has begun to see someone new, and now her mom wants to fucking move?! I would have been so pissed off. Again, Shannon should be able to live her life, but she has a young daughter. Couldn’t she wait to go to the city until Jessi is at least in high school? College? Why not let Greg move back in to live in the house with Jessi? 

Jessi comes to terms with it at the end of the season, and I think that’s really big of her. I’ll be sad if she ends up getting uprooted. That damn depression kitty needs to leave her alone too. Not one of her friends bothered to check on her about it either, and Nick and Andrew knew she was depressed! That shit doesn’t just go away. 

THE FAB FIVE

I was living, henny! I didn’t know which episode they would be in, but this was just amazing. I am so glad they all made voice cameos for this. JVN stole the show of course, and it was so funny to hear they all swear. When Bobby went off about how little the other guys do while he did a whole “fucking” room renovation??? HE WAS RIGHT AND HE SAID IT! And the bird noises Antoni made??? Incredible. Would have loved to see him shrieking into the microphone. I do think the funniest line was when JVN said, “the dumb ones pound the hardest, henny”. I fucking died. They really lightened the mood, and what a great redemption for coach Steve! I am so glad he got his job back. 

There are many other things to get into with this season, but what I’d like to end on is that the kids really grew up. People don’t stay friends forever. I had friends in middle school that I did not stay friends with in high school. Even high school I didn’t keep the same friends. Obviously we want to see these kids make things work, but I still think it was very grown up of Andrew to tell Nick he forgave him but didn’t want to be friends anymore. I think when we’re kids we stay friends with people, or keep ourselves in certain situations because we want to be around cool people. I’m very curious to see where this show takes us in season 4. They all went through a lot, and 7th grade really is the most awkward year of them all. So who knows, maybe 8th grade will be better. They’ll have had a whole year of new hormones under their belts. What do y’all think is in store for our friends next?