#miss in wolford

[julie-claire]

[ordenyprogreso]

[redcarpet-streetstyle]

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ Blue or Orange ? (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : when the shimmer athlete meets the speed athlete

tw : fluff, a little chaos, suggestive

fc: Claire Wolford *she is so pretty-*

a/n : So this was requested anonymously, so if you are seeing this, Hope you like it 💫 AND before anyone jumps on me for using Daniel, it’s just one comment and the meme was started by him !!

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by victoriakalena, chandidayle, kelsey_w, landonorris and 87,290 others

ynwolford Thunderstrucked Vegas 💫✨

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user1 the dream life ✊🏻

user2 THUNDER!! TA DA DA THUNDER !!

victorikalena leader ay-aye 🫡

liked by ynwolford

chandidayle serving serious looks ma’am

ynwolford only for you 🫶🏻

user3 drop. the. freaking. skin. and. body. routine !!!

user4 oh to be her 😮‍💨😮‍💨

kelsey_w the look is perfect !!

liked by ynwolford

user5 I AM SEEING HER IN THE VEGAS MATCH

user6 EXCUSE ME !? - can you take me 🥺

user7 bleeding blue and white 💙🤍

user8 why is lando norris in her likes ?

user9 her boyfriend 💔 user10 WHAT-!? user10 POOKIE IS TAKEN 😭🥹 user11 who is he 😤 user12 a driver 👀 user13 * formula one driver

landonorris BEST SISTER EVER ❤️

ynwolford BEST BROTHER EVER ❤️ landonorris bro 😑 ynwolrford yo u started it landonorris you looked pretty babes 🧡❤️💙🤍 ynwolford ☺️

liked by landornorris, mclaren, chandidayle and 137,283 others

ynwolford blue and orange ? 💙🧡 @ mclaren

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mclaren the color combination for the next livery ?

ynwolford cowboy style 🤠🤍💙

landonorris maybe you could cheer for me in those shorts ? 👀

ynwolford stop it you thirsty shorty landornorris you did not - ynwolford my kicks are taller than you landonorris yet still you do the splits for me -

user1 you two, there are kids 😭

user2 where the hell did lando pop out from ?

user3 when did the couple comments become so active 😭

chandidayle Y/N, please behave, there are kids

user4 THANK YOU CHANDI

georgerussell Y/N, could you please get us passes for the match ?

ynwolford dw! Tickets for you, Oscar, Alex, Max and Charles are in my bag ✊🏻

landonorris last time I checked, I was the one who asked you out

ynwolford last time I checked, you always have no pass entry AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND is a DCC 💪🏻 landonorris oh.

user5 I missed the silent relationship comments

user6 they are entertaining tho-

liked by chandidayle, landonorris, kelsey_w and 162,319 others

ynwolford and after 4 years, the Pom-Poms take a rest 🤍💙🤍💙

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user1 WE WILL MISS YOU 😭

user2 genuinely one of the best dcc!!

kelsey_w can’t believe we were together through it all 💙

liked by ynwolford

dcccheerleaders once a DCC, always a DCC 💙🤠🤍

liked by ynwolford

landonorris I am so proud of you love 🫶🏻

ynwolford thank you 😭

user3 for once his comment was normal -

user4 no horny comments today

landonorris but I am sad I won’t see you in those shorts

user5 there we go ✊🏻

user6 the way y/n just ignored -

user7 lando and her are probably doing dirty

user8 STOP TALKING ABOUT THEIR NIGHT LIFE

user9 yes! This is a child account 😙

carlossainz55 A great end to your career 💪🏻

ynwolford unemployed besties 🫶🏻

user10 she did not -

carlossainz55 that hurt 😞

ynwolford reality hurts my dear Carlos landonorris Stop Calling Him “Dear” ynwolford Dear Carlos 🫶🏻 georgerussell hi 👋 ynwolford dear George 🫶🏻 alexalbon hi 👋 ynwolford dear Alex 🫶🏻 landonorris STOP 💔

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, georgerussell and 128,271 others

ynwolford and after 2 years, orange is the best 🧡

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landnorris aw 🥺

landonorris cute 😤

landonorris pretty 😮‍💨

landonorris hot 🥵

landonorris mommy 😗

gerogerussell LANDO SHAVED HIS MOUSTACHE!?

ynwolford I asked him too 😌

alexalbon “ THIS MOUSTACHE IS MY BADGE OF HONOUR”

landonorris whatever the queen says 🤷🏻‍♂️

danielriccardio he doesn’t even grow pubes

ynwolford sadly, he does now 😔 landonorris HEY! cmon babe, you know you love it 👀 ynwolford the tree lando, not the jungle 🫷🏻

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[tofindhomeistofindeachother]

You can have your cake and eat it too

Fandom: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)

Relationships: Lenny Bruce (The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel)/Miriam "Midge" Maisel, Lenny Bruce & Abe Weissman, Lenny Bruce & Kitty Bruce

Summary:

Lenny Bruce is a man with a Lease. A recently separated Midge, her parents and her children are his new neighbors.

AO3

Fake dating Au based off @digivolvin 's list of fake dating prompts.

Lenny Bruce is a man with a lease.

Who would have thought. Right?

It happens to the best of them and Lenny is not even close to being that great of a man; he’s nothing more than an ex-addict, sometimes a comedian, a perpetual a danger to the common decency of America, with an arrest record as long as his career and all but persona non grata on practically half the states of the country by now.

He’s also recently divorced and basically a single parent at this point, if the weekly missed visits courtesy of his ex are anything to go by from here on out. His mother is getting too old and growing too tired to help anymore and unless he wants Kitty to live on the perpetual company of nannies he can't afford, his daughter must come first. So, if cleaning his act enough to avoid the nightly prison stays and to be able to get booked on a regular basis just so he can pay his rent, her school and their daily needs, then he will.

Leaving the drugs is easier than putting a stop to his advocacy for freedom of speech; he wants to make people think, he wants people to be faced with the mirror he forcefully reflects on them when they call him a sick comedian.

If you take away the right to say fuck, you take away the right to say fuck the government. Right?

But a starving father has to feed his daughter.

There’s always the gaslight if he wants to let loose from time to time, there’s always Wolford, where the girls love him and the bartender hates him, there’s Village Vanguard, there must be some perks about living on the East Village and staying there, in one place, instead of living from town to town and lawyer through lawyer.

Here, he can have as much freedom as he can afford while being able to keep his child. He just has to resist the temptations around:

The dealers who are constantly seeking him out like the parasites that they are, the high of misbehaving in front of the cops that spend their nights observing him like jackals waiting for their prey to die every night when he tries to perform.

The pretty little thing with the kids that moved in a week ago just when he was getting used to the strange feeling of settling down, partially eased by the tranquility of having no neighbours and enjoying the entire floor for himself.

402, because of course Lenny doesn’t have enough courage to walk up to her and introduce himself as the temporary owner of 401, never mind asking for her name, is a prim and lively brunette always wrapped in expensive dresses, blouses, skirts and the occasional maddingly tight pedal pusher, always paired with high heels and a never-ending collection of hats that always seem to complement her outfits.

She doesn’t belong on the building, or the neighborhood, she looks like she doesn’t even touch the ground she walks on everyday as she makes her way towards the train station while heading to work or wherever pretty girls that look like movie stars spend their days doing.

No one gives her shit, though. Not even the men who Lenny knows are notorious pigs disguised as men.

They watch.

Fuck! Even Lenny watches.

But they don’t touch.

And Lenny doesn’t touch either. And he maintains his distance.

402 also seems to have moved in with her parents just behind her; two very distinguished looking people who always appear to be appalled by their new surroundings, and yet, they move around the neighborhood and socialize with the people around them like it’s a second nature to them.

Lenny has seen the landlord come and go around their floor more times just in the seven days they have been living on their apartment than in the half a year he has been living on the building himself, he’s been cleaning up, repairing and repainting, as if this was an upper west side hotel with a view of the Hudson River and not a dump that most people live in because they can’t live anywhere else.

The worst thing is, that as the days go by, the landlord starts to look as if he’s enjoying the whole thing.

The mom is basically a carbon copy of her daughter, just taller and a little older. She comes in with expensive looking dresses, gloves and purses that match her hats perfectly, and he never sees her without makeup or her perfectly done bouncing, brown curls.

They both come in with box after box of luggage; two dainty looking girls and one tired man alongside two kids trying to get what seems an entire B Altman warehouse worth of clothes, accessories and makeup, alongside a library’s worth of books and box after box of expensive looking kitchen appliances, inside their tiny apartments.

Never mind the lavish furniture.

This is how eventually Lenny gets to know 402 and because of this, her parents and her children, he caves in after he sees the landlord go up and down the building helping these poor people move in, assisting these people in the way he never helped Lenny when he did the same early this year.

However, the luggage doesn’t seem to thin out and Lenny eventually gets tired of trying to walk in between racks of dresses and a never-ending collection of books and shelves just to get to his own apartment and instead of complaining to them, he introduces himself and offers his time and effort to help them, finally, move in.

He’s about to do a really nice thing. Something that no one who has spent more than five minutes with him would ever dare to accuse him of doing. But he doesn’t have the heart to complain at them while they’re clearly struggling, or at least, besieged as much as a group of people who seem to have everyone and their mother following the narrative of their unspoken desires can actually struggle.

These people are not human, he thinks, as he makes his way towards 402, lighting the cigarette on his mouth, relieved by the familiar weight of another pack waiting on the pocket of his wrinkled dress-pants, he stops in front of her apartment for a second, pacing with anxious hurried steps from one to side to the other before he knocks on the recently painted baby blue door. They’re magical creatures, influencing people into adapting to them instead of adapting to their environment like the rest of the mortals like himself.

Their expensive possessions have been there, just sitting unattended on the open for days and no one has taken anything away, they just walk away and leave their things alone.

The girl answers the door in a beautiful pale green nightgown only covered by an equally as beautiful matching green peignoir over her shoulders, the cover falls delicately under her thighs, a beautiful soft looking concealment circling the small length of her legs. She’s obviously not decent enough for polite company (not that Lenny could ever be labelled as polite company), but other than crossing the lapels of the gown across her chest in a vain attempt to preserve her modesty with the sheer fabric, she doesn’t let her embarrassment to show. “Hi!” she greets him awkwardly, looking directly at a point just behind him. “401. Right? I’m so sorry about my clothes.” She apologizes hurriedly. “I thought it was my mama; she was supposed to come by around this hour.”

“Well.” He smiles, raising his hand to his mouth to take a deep drag of his cigarette, fighting the urge to lower his gaze from where he’s valiantly staring just over her collarbone, concentrating on the heat of the nicotine entering his lungs instead of the heat he feels all over his body because of the sight of her. “I’m not complaining about it.”

402 doesn’t seem angry at the comment as he feared she would, instead, she meets his gaze with a wicked upturn of her perfectly shaped lips and loosens the tense rictus of her stance. “I guess you wouldn’t.” She smirks, looking down at herself.

“I don’t think anyone would.” He muses, staring up and down her entire body.

“Well,” ventures 402 with a devilish half smile. “Maybe my husband.” She ponders bleakly. “He was really fucking eager to leave all of this behind for his dull as drying paint slut of a secretary.” She explains hotly, her hands moving up at down her scantily clad body. The perfect combination of self-deprecation, affronted incredulity and dark amusement to make it look as if she’s not bothered by it, paired with the sheer indecency of such a vocabulary being used by this seemingly prime and proper looking lady, it’s enough to make the whole thing amusing.

It's enough to make it funny.

Lenny can’t quite contain the urge to laugh, which is, apparently, the right thing to do, because she joins him; her laughter something airy, joyful and loud.

“What a fucking schmuck.” He drawls, resting his forearm on the frame of her door, his taller body looming over hers; close enough to smell the sweet hints of her perfume but so fucking distant at the same time.

“You tell me.” She complains. Enunciating the ‘me’ with a particular level of offense, as if she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was completely out of her idiot husband’s league. Lenny doesn’t even know the poor sob and he understands how deeply she settled when she made him the favour of marrying him.

Funny, liberating and devastatingly beautiful. What a terrifying knock out of a woman.

Lenny hums under his breath, the silence that sets after their little exchange comfortable and suffocating all at once.

“Tell you what.” He smiles easily, the smoke from the cigarette enveloping up the air around them. “I wanted to talk with you, about your little moving situation” he explains, waving his hand behind him in the general direction of their cluttered hallway without taking his eyes off her. “But I don’t want you to be here trying to cover yourself from my degenerate gaze.” He comments without shame. “So, what do you say I come back in a few minutes while you get yourself descent enough for my presence and then we can arrange our schedules, so we don’t infringe on each other’s time.”

This makes her laugh all over again, clearly entertained by the forced grandiloquent vocabulary and his own ability to laugh at himself. Her eyes shine with delight and something that is definitely gratefulness.

“Well, sir,” she holds the ends of her nightgown with the tip of her fingers, lowers her head and bends her knees in the amused mock of a curtsey. “I thank you, for your consideration.”

“Yeah…” He smiles, all smoldering dark eyes and casual charm as he touches his chest with his open palm in a false show of his humbleness. “That’s me, considerate Lenny Bruce, at your service.”

“Midge.” She finally graces him with her name holding up her hand for a handshake. “Midge Maisel at the moment, soon to become Midge Weissman in the near future.”

Lenny imagines, for a moment, on how impossibly perfect it would be to surprise her by kissing her hand instead; to get a taste of her skin, to see her eyes widen in surprise and admire the exposed skin of her neck and her breasts blush with shy embarrassment.

He’s not there yet, and he doesn’t want her to think that the help he wants to offer is conditional to something else that she might not be willing to give. She looks perfectly comfortable with their meeting; she looks perfectly comfortable with the place she’s living in. He doesn’t want to change that just because he can’t control the urge to flirt with her.

So, he takes her hand, firmly but carefully, as if she was an important business partner he wants to impress, even if he has never walked his way into an office in his life, not even his manager’s.

“Guess I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He excuses himself, awkwardly. She smiles coquettishly, walking close to him, taking advantage to his suddenly anxious state to take his cigarette from his fingers without a single complain from him.

She takes one single dainty looking drag of the cig and exhales the nicotine filled smoke with a deep contented sigh. “I’ll have coffee ready for you.” She promises, as someone who looks like she couldn’t conceive the idea of having a guest over without the appropriate complimentary table treats.

Such an interesting funny lady thinks Lenny shaking his head as she closes the door on his face without parsimony.

There’s something about her, something deeply interesting and intriguing and this just their first meeting.

[sweetsummercourier]

Little Do You Know

When I open my eyes in the morning

And you're not there

When my lungs cannot breathe anymore

And I'm lying right there

It'll be you in my heart that I'm holding

Synopsis: on the boat ride back to Paradis after the Rumbling, Saoirse and Mikasa comfort each other regarding the events of the past and the loss of Eren.

Characters: Mikasa Ackerman, Saoirse Wolford-Blackwell (oc)

Content: angst and comfort, mentions of pregnancy / unborn child, mentions of decapitation and character death, season 4 characters are 18+

Word count: 3k

A/N: Women supporting women! This time, I wanted to focus on Saoirse and Mikasa's relationship, and the friendship that they've forged over the course of the show and manga. I should mention that in my AU, Mikasa still loves Eren. I think I'd be doing her a disservice if I removed / ignored that aspect of her. As always, proofread by me and Grammarly.

as a reminder SAOIRSE'S SURNAME HAS BEEN CHANGED. It is now Wolford-Blackwell.

Borders by @thecutestgrotto

They say counting stars

You play the part of a soul missing home

Time's not a problem, do you think we were moving too fast?

Guess we weren't meant to last

My love, where'd you go?

Where'd you go?

/ / /

The boat rocked gently as the waves lapped at its sides. Seagulls cawed outside, soaring next to the vessel. An uneven desk kept wobbling with the boat’s movements. A few crates slid side to side slightly, scratching at the floor… and it took everything in Saoirse not to throw up.

She hated boats. Sure, the idea of sailing sounded nice, and with all the different kinds of boats, it seemed fun and romantic, but the seasickness – coupled with her morning sickness – made Saoirse want to die. As much as she wanted to accompany Mikasa above deck, she knew very well she’d just end up spilling her guts over the railing. 

She couldn’t wait for this part of their journey to end. 

She stayed below deck in the small cabin the two were sharing, sitting on one of the cots with a black blanket lazily wrapped around her. Calling it a cabin was a bit of an overstatement – it was more like a storage room with some of its belongings taken out so that the two had a place to sleep. It wasn’t much, and the cots weren’t the comfiest, but it was enough for now. 

She was protectively cradling a small cardboard box in her arms – the box that held Eren’s decapitated head. It was the only thing Saoirse could find to contain his head. She hated it. She hated that she even had to put his head in something, much less a cardboard box that she happened to find at the harbor, or what remained of it. It was so… plain, and she felt like she was being disrespectful for putting his head in it – despite the fact she had done so to prevent anyone from trying to take him away. 

The box made it all too real, too. Once they returned to Paradis, his head would be placed in another box, and buried under the tree that held such significance to Eren. She wasn’t ready for it. How could she be? She hadn’t even digested the recent events, memories, and thoughts racing like a tumultuous storm. 

Their final moments together kept replaying in her mind. How he expressed his displeasure at the idea of her finding another man, of another man raising his baby. How his biggest regret was not being able to be by her side. How he swore they’d be together again. How he swore he’d love her forever, and even after that.

He smelt like seaspray and sunshine.

Saoirse looked back at the porthole near her cot and caught a seagull passing by. The sun was still out. It looked like a lovely day. Maybe if she went outside, she could smell that seaspray, and for a moment imagine that he was by her side again… no, she’d throw up. She shook her head and looked away from the light, sighing softly.

She felt she had no more tears to shed, no more words to scream, no more demands to beg. She felt numb and hollow. She must have looked like a living corpse: alive but unmoving, pale and stiff.  She felt like it, too, like there was an empty spot in her chest where her heart once was. 

She held the box close to her, her eyes fixed on nothing as she maintained her stupefied vigil. The only thing keeping her tied to this world, to this moment, was the box in her arms and the baby in her womb. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” she asked no one, her question fading as quickly as she asked it. There wasn’t an answer, at least not one that was immediately obvious. She and Eren had planned to settle down, rebuild his childhood home in Shiganshina, and raise a family – your standard “white picket fence and two and a half kids and a dog” plan. 

This wasn’t her plan all along. Saoirse never saw herself as a mother, or capable of falling in love. Her early years gave her the notion that she was not fit for an “ordinary” life. She wasn’t human; she should be shunned. Originally, she planned on serving her time as a soldier, joining the Garrison Regiment so she could help her adopted family. When she finished her duty, she’d return to the family’s farm and keep working for them until she died, unwed and childless. 

Yet loving Eren profoundly changed her. She wanted a family. She wanted love. She wanted to share a bed with someone and to wake up beside them. She wanted to cook and share meals at the table with a family she helped build. She wanted to have a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on. She wanted to grow old side by side with someone. She wanted a wedding with a white dress and a cake… she hated dresses. 

But she would have worn one for Eren.

Saoirse would have done all of that for Eren… and all she had to show for it was his head in a cardboard box, an illegitimate child, and a broken heart. 

How did life end up this way? Why did it end up this way? Saoirse felt like the laughingstock of the universe. The butt of every joke life could have thrown at her. Born premature, sold off like livestock at a kill auction, experimented and tortured and abused… and just when her life seemed to turn around when she was adopted, the Walls were breached and she became a soldier. 

And before Eren died, she learned how he had altered her thoughts to preserve her. He even admitted that he did it in the beginning because her abilities helped serve his goals, and he hadn’t even expected to fall in love with her.

How was she supposed to go home now? How was she going to explain to her adopted parents that not only was she pregnant, but that the father was the Devil of Paradis? The man who brought the world to its knees? How was she supposed to tell them about the years in the military? She knew she would have no choice but to bring up the experimentation she was forced to endure as a child, and the Titan she bore because of it. How would they possibly handle the idea that the little girl they adopted had not only been a monster but now grew the child of a monster in her womb?

She couldn’t blame them if they rejected her. Who would want to keep her around? A part of her didn’t want to try and go home. Her adopted mother was so sweet and so kind, the idea of seeing her with a broken heart and crying made Saoirse wince. And her adopted father, a gentle giant… the more she thought about them and what her story would do to them only made her less and less confident about going home.

She wasn’t even angry anymore. She was just so tired. Maybe it would be best if they thought she was dead.

The door creaked open and Saoirse snapped back to reality. Her arms wrapped the box tightly, pressing it closer to her body. She glared at the entryway, trying to make herself look threatening in an attempt to ward off whoever entered the room.

Mikasa looked on, unfazed by Saoirse’s aggressive display. Upon seeing that it was Mikasa, Saoirse slowly relaxed and inspected the box gently to make sure she hadn’t damaged it in her fierce grasp.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed as she looked back at her friend, satisfied with the state of the box. “I… didn’t think you’d be coming back so soon.”

“It’s alright,” Mikasa replied as she closed the door behind her. 

Saoirse’s fingers gently ran over the top of the box, her thumb tracing along the edge of one of the flaps. She resisted the urge to open it, knowing she’d break down upon seeing Eren’s head again, but she just wanted to see him one more time. 

Mikasa approached and gently touched her wrist. In a fit of desperation, Saoirse smacked her hand away and held the box closer. She stared up at Mikasa with a wide eye, her breathing quickening.

“No! No, you can’t have him!”

“Saoirse… Saoirse, it’s me,” Mikasa said quietly, her voice tinged with sorrow. “It’s alright. No one will take him.”

Saoirse hesitated and her face flushed with embarrassment. She stuttered an apology, and she leaned down, her forehead pressed against the box. She felt like a caged beast, a cornered animal. She felt wounded and weak, and everything was a threat. Everyone was her enemy and wanted to hurt her.

“I must be going mad,” she whispered before looking up again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Despite her grief, Saoirse knew the consequences of Eren’s actions. He would be both glorified and vilified by the people of Paradis. He’d be the hero who tore down the Walls and eliminated their enemies (or at least eighty percent of them) to many, and the villain who only made things worse for others. She lived in constant fear that someone would come into the room and take the box, and either keep it to be venerated or throw it into the ocean.

Was it a good idea to bring him home? Of course, Marley wouldn’t give him a proper burial. She didn’t want to imagine the things they would have done with his head. Yet with the prospect of how people would view Eren on Paradis, she was frightened of people robbing or desecrating his grave. 

It killed her more to know that she didn’t have his full body to bury. Just his head. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” Saoirse whispered.

Mikasa remained silent before moving to sit on a nearby crate, listening to Saoirse… or maybe she was contemplating. After all, she had been the one to stop the Rumbling with Levi.

Saoirse could only imagine how Mikasa had felt about the situation. The two had a strong bond and were always side by side. Alongside Armin, the three were a tight-knit group.

Admittedly, Saoirse was a bit jealous of that. She always wondered what it was like to have a close group of friends, people you trusted and grew up with and loved. She couldn’t necessarily say that about their comrades: she trusted and cared for them, but she wasn’t particularly close to anyone. 

“I can’t imagine what it was like,” Saoirse spoke up. “What it was like to… to kill Eren. To end the Rumbling.”

There was a heavy silence between them. She knew she had made the mood worse, but it was the only thing she could think of to talk about. There were no pleasantries to give. 

“I’m glad it was you,” Saoirse continued. “I couldn’t have done what you did… but if anyone was to do it, I’m glad it was you.”

Mikasa inhaled deeply and looked up at her, her dark eyes trained on Saoirse. She gave a soft nod and crossed her arms, placing her arms on her legs.

“I didn’t want anybody else to do it,” Mikasa replied. “Eren was… is very precious to me. I wanted to protect him, and I had for so long… it only felt right that it was me.”

“I know,” Saoirse said. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Mikasa was silent for a moment and then her eyes widened. She looked at Saoirse and gasped softly as she understood what the other woman meant. Not platonic love. Not even just familial love. No, something much more – a deep, profound love that blossomed from romantic feelings. 

Saoirse gave her a weak smile. It wasn’t hard to see. It wasn’t something that she was blind to. A woman in love could spot another a mile away. She looked down at the box for a moment before looking up at Mikasa.

“I’m sorry – ”

“Why are you apologizing?” Saoirse interrupted quietly.  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Mikasa stared at her, perplexed. She must have been expecting Saoirse to be angry, to berate her. How dare she love a taken man, someone who had chosen another person. Someone who he had fathered a child with and planned a life together. How dare she long for another. 

“... because I do,” Mikasa managed. “I do love him.”

“I know.”

“... how are you not angry? Don’t you hate me?”

“How could I ever hate you? You… are probably the only friend I have in this world.”

Mikasa blinked in surprise at Saoirse’s gentle response. Of course, Saoirse didn’t hate her. She wasn’t upset that Mikasa loved Eren, too. For one, Mikasa and Eren had more history together and had a story that she didn’t have. She didn’t have that with Eren. She didn’t have that history or rapport with him. 

“Do you hate me?”

“For what?”

“For loving him. For him loving me. For him choosing me,” Saoirse said. “Do you hate me because we were partners?”

“No,” Mikasa replied immediately. “I… I wasn’t happy when you two began dating. I wasn’t happy with the idea of him being with you because I… I didn’t like you. I didn’t think you were good enough for him. I thought you were trouble… I thought that ever since we met as cadets.”

Saoirse laughed dryly, looking down at the floor. It was true. When she was younger, she was rude, blunt, and aggressive. She cared about herself and only herself, and often got into arguments and physical altercations with Eren. The two were certainly an unlikely pair, and no one would have thought they would have grown close… especially close enough to form such a bond. A bond that resulted in a new life.

She didn’t blame her for that impression. She would be the first to admit she was an absolute shithead.

Mikasa stood and moved to sit next to Saoirse, wrapping the blanket around her too. They sat in silence for a moment, basking in the other’s presence. Saoirse adjusted the box in her arms and she inhaled shakily as she ran one hand over her belly, feeling the subtle bloat.

“In the end, I’m happy he loved you,” Mikasa added.

“What? Why?” Saoirse asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Because you made him happy,” Mikasa explained. “You had matured from when we met, and he loved spending time with you. Even before you two began dating, I could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he spoke about you. He cared about you. Above all else, all I ever wanted was for Eren to be safe and happy… if he had found it with someone who wasn’t me, I had to learn to accept it.”

Saoirse wasn’t expecting such a response, but it gave her peace of mind. It gave her peace of mind to know that Eren was happy with her, that he cared for her to an extent that others noticed before they became a pair. It gave her peace of mind to know that Mikasa was happy for them, that she was happy with her being Eren’s chosen partner.

“And I’m happy you’re my friend, too.”

Mikasa looked at Saoirse and then reached for the scarf that lay folded nearby. She gently touched its fabric and a light smile curved onto Mikasa’s lips.

“... Eren wrapped this scarf around me when we were kids,” she said. “It’s an invaluable gift. It’s a part of him that no one can take away from me.”

Mikasa turned to Saoirse and wrapped the scarf around the both of them, ensuring it was secure. Saoirse blinked in surprise and she looked down at the scarf, feeling the fabric against her skin. Her nose wrinkled a little as a wave of emotions washed over her.

“No… no, I don’t deserve this,” Saoirse spoke shakily. “I don’t deserve to be wrapped in this scarf.”

“Yes, you do,” Mikasa countered. “Let me share this with you. Let me wrap you like he did with me… let me be there for you and the little one. Please.”

Saoirse felt hot tears fill her one eye, her thick eyelashes immediately becoming soaked and glossy. Looking into Mikasa’s eyes, she saw sincerity. She saw kindness and warmth. Love and care. 

“I don’t deserve it,” she croaked. “I don’t even deserve your friendship or your kindness… or even the kid… I don’t deserve anything.”

“You do,” Mikasa whispered. “You do… please, Saoirse. I love you.”

Those three words made Saoirse burst into tears. Mikasa lay one hand on Saoirse’s back, and the other on her arm. She leaned close and rested her forehead against Saoirse’s head, closing her eyes as she offered her silent comfort. 

“I love you, too,” Saoirse hiccuped, sniffling. “Thank you… thank you… ”

Saoirse closed her eye and held the scarf to her face, burying her nose into the fabric. Tears steadily streamed from her one eye as she wept, grief and gratitude washing over her like waves on the beach. With her eyes closed, she pictured the day they all first saw the ocean, dancing in the waves and feeling the sand between their toes. How Eren looked when she smiled at him that genuine smile for the first time.

“You won’t ever be alone,” Mikasa whispered. “I promise.”

“And neither will you,” Saoirse rasped, sniffling.

Mikasa remained by her side, continuing her silent comfort as she began to softly weep, tears trailing down her cheeks. The two remained in their warm embrace, weeping and mourning the man they both loved and lost. They both knew when they returned to Paradis, they would have to face the new world Eren had ushered in. 

There was much to do, but for now, they had each other. The world wasn’t perfect, it was cruel… yet it wasn’t that bad, and it was beautiful. Saoirse knew Mikasa would be there for her, and she would be there for Mikasa… and at this moment, there was no other way Saoirse would have wanted it.

[xarrixii]

to those of inquiry,

my name is @xarrixii / arri

cis. white. panromantic. (refer to me with any pronouns you want)

some more about me if you're not a COWARD:

i have come from a land not so far away (planet earth) to share the nonsensical nonsense of my brain (my writing).

i am irregular. half my will to write is completely dependent on zoning out in the middle of something else that has almost nothing at all to deal with what i'm writing about.

i swear. i also talk too much, so if you'd like to know something about me, uh... i encourage you to remain anonymous in my ask box so i don't think too much about it. i'm not afraid to answer. kind of. i am afraid of going into other peoples' asks and messages.

professional overthinker. an adult of the u.s.

i'll take all comments on my work. you can be anonymous in my inbox. keep in mind it's all first-draft work.

FLASH/BURN—

Harlow Collins is pyrokinetic. He's been in and out of the kinetic rehab centers for most of his life. He doesn't summon anymore. Alph Roy-Wolford is also pyrokinetic. They've managed to dodge the rehab centers and have been working towards becoming a cop for the latter half of their life. When one of them crashes their truck and a favor's called in, they get sucked into the criminal-fighting criminal organization of Alph's mother—Cinder.

Placeholder Name #1—

An alchemist-sorcerer on the run and a famous knight cross paths and learn that their lives have more in common than they thought.

Vaughn was accused of high treason. Leon has a string of murders to solve for her Lord. Vaughn has the missing piece to solving the murders, but Leon has to accept the cost of trusting a wanted criminal.

YELLOW MEANS FEAR—

An emotion-manipulating vigilante, her unknowing cop friend, and someone with wings from a remote magic-bound civilization end up taking on an incredibly elaborate trading ring.

When Delta showed up years prior, Fare had scraped out the serial killer and locked him away—for good. She thought it would be the largest case she'd ever have, but after coming across a strange, beak-masked vigilante, she quickly began to uncover the largest slave trade Krusing had ever seen.

Placeholder Name #3—

An airship pirate who doesn't want to be forgotten meets a ramshackle inventor busying themselves as an interpreter while intercepting a cargoship.

Earwyn Sol had always wanted to do something revolutionary, so when the military failed he took the next available option—piracy. Just when he thought he wouldn't go down in history for more than a few squabbles, he met a sleepless inventor translating between five languages and countless encryptions to barely scrape by alive.

Writemas

a writing game hosted by another tumblr user that i responded to each prompt day for in december 2024, hosting potential plotlines and usages of non-flash/burn characters. check it out if you want shorter, less organized versions of my writing.

looking for more? ask me! use my inbox so i can talk and hopefully have less crises over small parts of conversation

[silviastefanini]

...JUST SOME SELECTED WORKS

about me...

Creating  a trove of imaginaries and metaphors has been my job for the last 20 years. Through images, videos, words and installations I can tell your story. I work for magazines, home and fashion brands, production agencies, museums.

__________

Clients [selected]:

La Perla, Fendi Casa, Larusmiani, Miss Sixty, Samsung, Modement, Guess, Nikon, Giuseppe Zanotti, Missoni, Missoni Home, FitMe Montecarlo, Lardini, Boggi, Interparfum, Ermanno Scervino, Malo, Capucci, Mario Dice, Tod's, Pineider, Wolford, Malo Home, Numero Russia, Numero Tokio, L’Officiel, Vogue Gioiello, Manintown, Exibart

[pjodemigodsstyle]

Aphrodite’s Daughter Fall #9 by misszizzentyu featuring heeled ankle booties

[hiccuplovver]

Meeting Ulyesses by maryvarleyrox featuring Miss Selfridge

River Island knit top / Miss Selfridge skirt / Wolford sheer stocking / Orelia costume jewellery, $13 / Morphe false eyelash

[theycallme-thejackal]

One MidgeLenny x TSwift Fic Per Day

44. Holy Ground

Gordon’s a big fan of parties.

Since she started working for him six months ago, he’s thrown around a dozen of them. All lavish without being ostentatious, and his guests are always thoroughly entertained (and entertaining. Ethel Merman has already commandeered the microphone once tonight), but tonight...

Tonight Midge really isn’t in the mood for revelry.

It’s been a year to the very day since Lenny rescued her from the raid at the Wolford, which means it’s been a year since he touched her beyond the brush of fingers during the handoff of a cigarette or a bump of knees when they sit at a table together.

She politely declines an offer to dance. The man is attractive (in an ‘I went to Catholic school’ sort of way), but the song is slow, and truthfully she hasn’t enjoyed a slow dance with a man since that night in Miami.

She’s feeling rather maudlin as she leans on the bar, ordering another martini. If she has to be here, she’s at least going to make good use of Gordon’s open bar policy. Drown her sorrows in plenty of free gin.

God, it could have been good. It was good. That one night in a blue room, where Lenny Bruce made her feel things she'd never known before, was...it was perfect. 

And the worst part about all of this is that she fucked it up. She fucked it up by being a complete idiot about her career. She took another very nice thing he did for her and threw it away. If she hadn’t done that, maybe...

“Your boss sure does love his parties.”

She whips her head to the side and looks at him with wide eyes. “What on earth are you doing here?” She asks, thoroughly surprised.

Lenny waves his hand toward the bar with a shrug. “Open bar,” he jokes.

Midge smiles, huffing a small laugh. “I thought you were in California,” she elaborates. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Missed your sneak attacks.”

“Well, I’m back now,” he explains as her drink is placed before her. “For good, I think.”

“You think?”

“We’ll see how New York feels about having me back.”

“Well, this particular New Yorker is very glad to have you back,” she tells him.

He dips his head with a little smile. “Thank you.” Midge grins back at him before picking up her drink and taking a sip. Lenny considers her for a moment before saying, “You’re not dancing.”

“I’m not?” She asks in feigned surprise, looking at her feet and then back at him. He just gazes at her without saying anything, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. She sighs and sets her drink down on the bar. “I’m going to say something now, but if I say it, you have to promise it won’t send you running back to Laguardia.”

He exhales a laugh through his nose. “Alright.”

Midge breathes deeply. “I don’t want to dance if I’m...not dancing with you,” she admits, hoping it doesn’t come out as shakily as she feels.

Lenny, for his part, smiles and nods gently. “Well,” he says, offering his hand, “I’d hate to disappoint the lady.”

She takes his hand and lets him lead her to the dance floor. He pulls her close, and she rests her head on his shoulder. They move together for a few moments before he dips his head and murmurs, “I don’t want to dance with anyone else either.”

She smiles.

[sweetsummercourier]

Wings of Icarus

But he told him, "Beware

Do not fly too close to the sun

The blaze will surely melt those wings."

But alas, he fell

His cries swallowed by the sea...

Synopsis: Saoirse's final memory of Eren. Their goodbye, a memory unlocked after the Rumbling ends.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Saoirse Wolford-Blackwell (oc)

Content: angst, cursing, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy / child, teenage / young adult pregnancy, season 4 characters are 18+

Word count: 4k

A/N: not gonna lie... got teary eyed writing this. like the teary eyed where your throat begins to hurt. I proofread and used Grammarly just to make sure, but sorry for any minor mistakes myself or the software missed :) wings in art,,, symbolism,,, not real lol

Borders by @tsunami-of-tears + @saradika-graphics

Remember me, though I have to say "goodbye,"

Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be...

Until you're in my arms again,

Remember me...

/ / /

Saoirse gasped for air, her back arching slightly as she felt her neck. It felt like a fist had been stuffed into the center of her throat, adrenaline pumping through her veins like broken ice in a thawing river. 

Where was she? Where were the screams, the deafening drum of the colossal footsteps? Where were her comrades? Why wasn’t she looking through the eye of her Titan?

Ah, she thought. I’m dead.

That was the only logical explanation. Why else would she be lying in soft grass, staring up at the leafy branches of a towering oak tree? Dappled sunlight peered through the leaves as the wind wove through the branches, carrying the sounds of cheerful birds. The dampened sunlight felt warm on her pale skin. 

Through her one eye, everything was beautiful and vibrant – so much more vibrant than it had been in years. She could see each leaf on the branches above, and all the grooves in the tree bark. When she looked to her right, she could see rolling hills and wildflowers. Houses were sprinkled here and there, some together and some far apart. She could see a farm, the paddock filled with cows and goats that were just little forms in the distance.

“Beautiful…” she whispered. If this was heaven, she didn’t want to leave. She wondered who else she would find here. Marco? Sasha? Hange? A sense of calm washed over her at the thought of reuniting with the friends and comrades she lost… those she always believed she could have saved, and had horribly failed.

Something touched her left cheek, something she couldn’t see. It was a gentle touch, warm and comforting. The touch made her feel like she was a flower, and someone had reached out to touch and admire her soft petals.

“You’re awake. About time.”

Saoirse turned her head to find Eren sitting next to her, leaning against the trunk. His head was cocked to the side as he stared down at her, resting his cheek on his shoulder. His eyes remained on her face as a small yet fond smile graced his lips. His hair was short and trimmed. She could see his face. His eyes were so clear… a light shone in them that hadn’t been there before.

Her body moved by itself, twisting as she sat up and latching onto him with intense ferocity. Her nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, her face pressed against his chest. He was warm. Warm and safe and real and beside her. Like it should have been all along. 

“You ass… how many times have I told you not to stand on my left!” Saoirse huffed as she pulled away, moving onto her knees and gripping the collar of his shirt with his hands, shaking him slightly. “You’re such a pain!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he smiled. “I just wanted to admire you. Had I been on your right, you would have noticed me. And besides, I woulda blocked your view.”

Saoirse huffed and sat on the heels of her feet. She couldn’t stay mad at him. Not now, at least. She sighed and looked down at her hands.

A heavy weight fell on her shoulders, blanketing her. A deep sorrow sat in her chest. As much as she wanted to believe otherwise, self-awareness was a curse. 

“This is another one of your tricks,” she surmised. “We’re not really under this tree outside of Shiganshina. The Rumbling’s still happening.”

“... yes,” Eren said. “I was… hoping you wouldn’t have noticed. You’re too clever for your own good.”

Eren slowly stood up and turned to her, offering to help her stand. He latched onto her hand, holding it tightly like he was afraid she’d disappear. 

“Come with me… I want to show you something,” he said. “I know we’ve talked about the future we wanted, the future we could have. Let me dream with you a while longer.”

A lump formed in her throat. She had a million thoughts flooding her mind at that moment, everything she wanted to say was a swirling whirlpool. Eren’s eyes softened and pulled her closer to his side.

“Later… for now, just… let’s just be.”

Eren led her down the hill, keeping pace with her. The crisp grass swayed as they passed, flowers in full bloom reaching their leaves to the sky. People and horse-drawn carts dotted the dirt road leading to Shiganshina. Destroyed and desolate houses had been transformed into abodes filled with life. Children were playing in the streets, and mothers called for them to come inside for lunch. A dog chased a ball. A cat startled a flock of chickens. A man on horseback tipped his hat towards them and bid them a good day.

The Wall was no longer there. 

They entered the city where the gate once was. The infamous gate, where both had seen the Armored Titan smash through nine years ago. There were no traces of it now. It was as if the walls and gate itself had never been.

Saoirse paused and pulled Eren to the side of the road, and just stared. There were no soldiers. There wasn’t a massive structure blocking her view. She was standing where the Wall and gate had been, right where they stood that separated the Shiganshina District from the interior of Wall Maria. 

Saoirse wanted to stand there and watch the people and carts go by. To see the merchants come with their wares to set up shop. To see the weary farmer head to town to wind down at a tavern. To see the young women return to their homes with arms full of groceries. To see the children run to the river to play, dogs nipping at their heels. To see what she would be going back to once the Rumbling was over.

Life looked so… normal. Plain. Boring.

Eren squeezed her hand and coaxed her along, pulling her to continue walking. As they entered the teeming streets, what once would have been overwhelming brought comfort. The noise that would have given her a panic attack and ringing ears soothed her. Maybe it was because, after nine years of hell, everything was okay. All traces of Titans and soldiers and humanity struggling behind walls had vanished. 

The couple maneuvered through the bustling streets, wandering throughout the district. The smell of fresh bread and spices wafted into Saoirse’s nose. Rowdy music and patrons were singing in one of the city’s taverns. A heated argument had broken out between a merchant and a consumer over a poor barter.

A child ran into Eren’s leg while chasing a ball. The young boy looked up bashfully and apologized, hanging his head as if he were to be scolded. Eren laid a gentle hand on the boy’s head and ruffled his hair. 

“Don’t worry about it, sport,” Eren replied, very much like a dad. “No harm done.” 

Saoirse smirked and snorted, looking away. She began to chuckle softly. Eren gave her a quizzical look.

“What? What’d I say?”

“Nothing… you just sounded like such a dad.”

Eren laughed softly and pressed a warm kiss to the top of her head. He laced their fingers together and gently rubbed his thumb against her skin. He was being so tender with her, which wasn’t a bad thing, but it certainly hadn’t been a common thing, especially in public. Yet in the back of Saoirse’s mind, if this was their final moment together, it made sense he was being so affectionate.

No, she thought. This isn’t the end, everything’s going to be fine. This is all just leading up to Eren telling me that everything will be okay.

Eren led her down the bustling streets to the town square. There was a large fountain, decorated with flowers and surrounded by benches. Slanted plaques lay on the edges of the fountain. There were names etched into each plaque in neat rows, displaying the names of every person – civilian or soldier – who died when Wall Maria fell, who died when they were forced to be sent back, and those who died after reclaiming the Wall. 

Saoirse traced her fingers over the names, feeling the grooves of the etchings. She felt Eren pull away and move over to another plaque. His face grew somber and his heart seemed to sink to the pit of his stomach.

She moved over and stood by his side, her eye flitting over the names. Carla Jaeger stuck out like a sore thumb, and her blood ran cold. She leaned against Eren and sighed gently.

“She would’ve liked you,” Eren sighed. “I can almost picture how happy she would have been to hear she was going to be a grandma.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over what happened,” Saoirse replied. “You were ten.”

Eren remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. He passed his thumb over his mother’s name and heaved a shaky sigh. He grabbed Saoirse’s hand and gently pulled her away from the fountain and down another street.

“That fountain… this whole city… is this how the city looks or did you make this up?”

“A little bit of both,” Eren replied, not looking at her. “This is how the city looks in my memory and how it looks now that it’s been repopulated. But the memorial fountain? I made that up. It doesn’t exist.”

“Well, maybe it should,” Saoirse said. “It’s beautiful.”

Eren led her through the streets and up some paths in silence. He looked like a man on a mission, with a soft, somber expression on his face. He looked like he was half excited, half dreading to reach the destination.

He led her to a house and nodded in its direction. As they stood back, Saoirse turned her gaze up at him. She gently nudged his shoulder, yet he wouldn’t budge. He swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He sounded slightly hoarse like he was parched.

“It looks different… without the giant boulder on top.”

His home. His childhood home. It did indeed look so different. She hadn’t been present when they went into the basement, but Eren had brought her by to at least show her the home he lost… where he lost his mother.

Suddenly, a small child of about four years ran out of the front door. Saoirse couldn’t determine if the child was a boy or a girl, but something about the child caused butterflies in the pit of her stomach. The child laughed and called for their mother, gripping a red ball in their hands.

“... That’s me.”

Saoirse’s eye widened as she watched a slightly older version of herself step out of the house. She held a large basket of laundry at her hip, donning a white blouse and yellow skirt, a red apron wrapped around her waist. She made a gesture to the child that said “one minute!” as she began to hang the laundry on a clothesline. She had even grown her hair back, and it looked soft and fluffy. 

“Is that how you picture me?” *Saoirse asked.

“Yeah,” Eren said softly. “Why? Have I offended you?”

“Not at all… just never saw myself in skirts and dresses.”

“I think you look beautiful in everything.”

“Shut up.”

They observed the pair as the child played with the ball, shouting at their mother to come play. They watched as the other Saoirse tied up her skirt to form makeshift shorts and began to kick the ball around with the child, laughing as the wind pushed up her hair. 

Someone called out in the distance. It sounded like a man. They turned toward the voice and the child yelled out “Daddy!” The child abandoned the ball and raced towards another Eren, who was dressed sharply. He beamed as he picked up the child, spinning them around before pressing a kiss to their cheek. When the other Saoirse approached, they seemed like a big happy family as Eren held her close in his other arm, kissing her lips.

“... we look happy.”

“Yeah… we do…”

Eren turned to her, his jade eyes soft and sad.

“Close your eyes for me. Don’t open until I tell you to.”

/ / /

Solid stone gave way to soft sand. Ocean water lapped at her feet and the urge to take off her boots was undeniable.

When Saoirse turned to look at Eren, his appearance returned to the now. His hair was pulled back in a messy bun, eyes devoid of light. He breathed a sigh and looked at her, his frame bathed in the red light of the setting sun.

“I think back to this time a lot,” he said. “How you looked standing here, in the water. It was the first time I ever saw you smile, I think. Truly smile,” he started. “I remember thinking to myself how beautiful it was. I wanted to protect it. I wanted to see it again.” 

Eren sighed softly and looked over at Saoirse. His eyes were at half mast, and his eyes just seemed so dead. So still and so dark. 

“Saoirse, be honest with me. When you look at me as I am now, what do you see?”

Saoirse knew what he expected her to say. A monster. A murderer. A demon. No — the Devil. Yet while she did agree that his actions were monstrous, she did not see him as a monster.  

Saoirse sighed and combed her fingers through her short hair before slowly shaking her head.

“I won’t say you’re a monster. I don’t see you as such. I’m… disappointed, and I’m mad, but when I look at you I see the man I love… and the father of my child.”

His expression softened and he reached for her hands, gently holding her fingers. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, and for a time that felt like an eternity, there was only the sound of this imagined ocean.

“You’re going to live a long life,” he said calmly, his tone soft and low. “I want you to live a good, fulfilling life.”

“I will. With you, of course,” she replied, her tone slightly forceful with determination.

Eren hesitated and sighed softly, averting his gaze. Saoirse tugged on his hands a little as if trying to coax him into agreement. That somehow this whole disaster would end in a fairytale ending. That somehow, they would both walk away from this alive and live that life they talked about — that he had the gall to show her. 

He wouldn’t have conjured that up if it wasn’t going to be true… right? He wouldn’t dangle that in front of her like a carrot… right? Right? Right?

“Where you are going, I can’t follow,” he replied. “I’m sorry…”

His hold on her fingers tightened and he clenched his teeth, a tch emitting from his throat. Emotions overwhelmed him and he huffed,

“Shit… I don’t want this at all. I want to be here with you. I want to be close to you and grow old with you. I want to see your smile every day. I want to know what it’s like to live a boring life. I want to hold our baby, I want to be there when he or she is born… I want to be a dad…”

He closed his eyes and set his jaw, tears wetting his lashes. He opened his eyes and looked at her, his voice filled with regret.

“I want to be happy… I want to be happy with you. I don’t want anyone else to be by your side but me. I want to be your one and only. I want to raise our kid together… the idea of another man raising them, calling them “dad,” witnessing all those milestones… shit!!”

Eren shook his head and inhaled sharply, trying to control his emotions. It was clear he was in a tumultuous storm, battling with his emotions and the icy mask he had created. He was battling with his resolve, the older one wanting to be free and avenging his mother and the newer one wanting a clean slate for himself and his fellow Paradisians.

“Ah… I’m sorry,” he breathed slowly, the mask settling back over his face.

“No.”

Eren blinked at her comment. Something in her stomach churned angrily, and a white-hot marble of frustration and hurt boiled within.

Saoirse pulled her hands from his and began to wring them together, pacing. It was a feeble attempt to calm her. The more she paced, the angrier she got. Maybe it was because Eren had his eyes on her. Maybe it was his presence. Maybe it was his words. Maybe all three.

“Dammit, Eren… Dammit all!” She yelled as she turned to face him. “You selfish bastard! You don’t think, do you! You think you can just say that shit to me after everything!?”

She picked up a small rock from the wet sand and chucked it as far as she could, watching it splash and sink into the lapping waves.

“You didn’t have to do any of this! This whole “it’s the memories, it’s the future” — cut the bullshit! Destiny, predetermined fate… bullshit! You didn’t have to do any of this! We could’ve lived the life we wanted! But you decided it was more important to — to end the world? And for what? For what, Eren! Tell me! How many people have died for your — your stupid “memories!” Tell me!”

“...eighty percent.”

“Eighty perc — Eren!”

Saoirse held her head in her hands and exhaled sharply, her one eye rolling around. Eighty percent. How many lives was that? How many human lives was that? How many generations had he snuffed out? How much hatred had he sown into the hearts of survivors? How many survived who believed that, through Eren’s actions, all Eldians were devils?

“I’ve redone this over and over again… all with unsatisfactory results.”

“And this is the best case scenario? Slaughtering millions? Forcing us to go to war against you? Ostracizing your friends — do not give me that look, Eren Jaeger, I cannot believe the shit you said to Mikasa and did to Armin! They have known you forever! And this is how you treat them! And me! What about me! What about the kid!”

Eren grabbed her and pulled her to his chest. She beat her fists against him. She battled and screamed, but he held her. He didn’t speak, just held her and let her get all her frustrations out. He knew that if he tried to speak to her, to calm her, she’d only freak out more.

Saoirse wept, the rhythmic drumming of her fists stilling. Instead, she gripped his shirt, feeling the fabric against his skin. He gently pressed his nose to her shoulder, breathing deeply and closing his eyes.

“Was all of this a lie?” she whimpered. “Was I just… some pawn? Was I just a puppet with a role to play…”

“No,” he responded immediately. “No, you were never a pawn or a plaything. Never once have I seen you as such… but there is one thing.”

Saoirse rested her cheek against his chest, swallowing thickly. Her chest and shoulders heaved as she stuttered, gasping for air to calm herself and regulate her breathing. Eren gently pressed his hand to her back and rubbed small circles against her, his fingers brushing against her spine.

“I cannot change the past,” he continued, “but through the Founding Titan, I can influence thoughts and memories of the past… my father never saw you in the future memories of me, therefore I originally never paid you any mind… but I did.”

Saoirse looked up at him, stunned. Eren held her shoulders gently, searching her face. She opened her mouth a few times, but no words came out at first.

“... did you alter me?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I… primarily intervened in your thoughts to ensure your survival. At first, my intentions were purely selfish: your Titan abilities were useful, and I determined they would make the events leading up to now more achievable. But I certainly didn’t think I would fall in love with you as a result.”

“And the baby?”

“... no, that was a surprise,” he replied. “Again, in ensuring your survival, I never imagined falling in love with you. I suppose I… could’ve prevented it but can’t imagine why I would. In the end, I got to be with you, even if there was an unexpected result."

Eren paused and gently took her face in his hands, tilting her head up. Tears continued to pour down from Saoirse’s one eye, liquid pearls rolling down her cheeks and onto his thumb. 

“I have been a terribly selfish lover,” he continued, “but I love you. Truly, honestly, deeply. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to be alone. I don’t want our child to be raised without a father… I want you and our child to thrive. To live peacefully and happily in this new world. My biggest regret is that I won’t be by your side.”

“Eren… please…” Saoirse pleaded quietly, her lower lip quivering. “Don’t go where I can’t follow… if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have ever dreamed of the life I want now…”

Eren’s breathing was shaky, and tears pricked his eyes once more. He leaned forward and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. His lips were so soft in the moment, the kiss so tender and soft and loving.

“I know I’ll be going to Hell,” he whispered against her skin. “Never doubt that I’m not watching over you, though. I promise I’ll be all around you. I’ll always be with you.”

“Where you go, I go too,” she replied quietly. “In death, be it Heaven or Hell, I want to be with you again. I would happily give up Heaven’s gates to be with the man who showed me love, who saw past my cynicism and cared for me anyway… I will shoulder your sins, too.”

Eren laughed softly and pressed his forehead to hers. He commented on how that was “pretty selfless” of her, and that he admired her resolve to abandon a peaceful afterlife for someone who didn’t deserve it. 

“Raise our child well,” he whispered, brushing his nose against hers. “Make them better than me. Show them that the world has so much beauty in it — so much more beauty than cruelty. Give them and yourself a normal life, free of the Walls and Titans.”

He tilted her head up a bit more and pressed his lips to hers. Saoirse moved her hands from his abdomen up to his chest, pressing herself closer to him. Even in this dream-like memory, she wanted to savor every little thing: the way he smelled, the way his chest rose and fell, the softness and warmth of his lips and how they moved against hers… how when she pulled back for a breath, he pulled her back in, a little tighter and more earnest. 

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he whispered. “When your time comes, I’ll be there. I will see you again. We will meet and be together again… and I look forward to hearing all the stories you’ll have to tell me.”

“Don’t go… ”

Eren finally broke away and embraced Saoirse tightly, resting his chin on the top of her head. Saoirse nestled her head against his neck. As tears dripped down her face, he rubbed her back and pet her hair tenderly. His tears began to slip down his face, knowing when they saw each other again, she’d be fighting him… she wouldn’t even remember this conversation until his head left his neck.

“Take care, Saoirse… I love you. Always and forever, and even after that… I love you. Goodbye, my love… thank you for everything.”

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Lenny holding onto a Wolford matchbook post Carnegie

There's so much to go through.

And she's happy to help. She promised Sally that when the time came, she'd make herself available to help out with whatever they needed.

And that just happens to be cleaning out the house.

And if going to Lenny's funeral and giving a eulogy had been desperately difficult, then this feels impossible, staring all of the things he'd accumulated in the face this way.

She finds herself in his office, covered as it is with crumpled up papers and old tchotchkes. The only photo on the shelves is an old framed shot of Kitty, smiling out from behind the glass frame.

Midge sighs heavily and gets started, trash bag in hand as she goes through papers and keepsakes.

She takes a breath about a half hour in, slumping down into Lenny's old chair, and lets herself daydream about what things might have been like under different circumstances. If they'd really tried to be more than friends. If he'd been able to kick the drugs.

She closes her eyes just for a moment, and when she opens them, her gaze lands on a little pack of matches on the desk. She lifts them and lets out a startled laugh.

Because they're a pack from the Wolford.

She shakes her head and grips them in her palm. "Fuck you, Lenny."

And when she wakes up, she yelps, looking around her quiet, dark bedroom in complete and utter panic.

"Miriam? Are you alright?" It's her father's voice from beyond the door, and when she slips out of bed and swings it open, he's looking very confused. "I heard a noise."

"What year is it?" she asks. "What day is it?"

"It's the day before Valentine's Day, and it's 1961, what-"

"Good," she snaps. "Good. That's-good. Just-good."

"You keep saying good, as if it will make you somehow calm down from the hysterics you seem to have reached," Abe points out. "Are you alright?"

"Nightmare," she explains. "A very sad nightmare." She takes a deep breath, slumping against the doorframe and closing her eyes briefly.

Abe nods, looking concerned still. "You've been having those more lately, you know."

"I know."

"Any particular reason?" he asks.

"I've always gotten nightmares when I feel stressed," she reminds him. "It's just- things have been..."

"You've been working very hard lately," Abe comments. "Landing that television show and still doing shows at clubs, taking care of the children." He pauses for a moment. "This all might be easier if you had a partner...a husband."

Midge stares at him sadly for a long time.

"Perhaps letting your mother set you up with someone new isn't a terrible idea," he continues. "It is Valentine's Day, after all."

She nods. "Yes, it is Valentine's Day. Goodnight, Papa."

He sighs heavily. "Stubborn."

"I come by it honestly," she points out, giving him a fond little smirk.

"Goodnight, Miriam."

"Goodnight, Papa."

*****

She wakes in the morning and gets ready. Her hair and makeup are perfect. He dress is a dusty rose color, and she braces herself to face another busy day, trying not to think about her nightmare.

But it's impossible. She can't stop thinking about that cluttered office or that matchbook. It stays with her throughout her day, even as she does a good job of paying attention to Susie and paying attention to Gordon and paying attention to Imogene and paying attention to her kids and to Joel.

She doesn't know why her brain is making a meal out of this. Lenny hasn't been in touch for three months, and she knows he's been out in California, gigging and probably spending time with his family.

The only promises that were made before he left were that she would work and he would try to kick the dope, and they'd parted on friendly terms, but...

But they'd parted.

If her brain is trying to remind her she misses him, it's doing a good job. Or a terrible job, depending on how you look at this.

Rare is the night where she doesn't have a gig, or kids to feed, but Joel on dad duty, and Susie has started building in two days a month where she's not working.

"Hello, Dear, you look exhausted," Rose comments, obviously getting ready to leave. "I have a dinner meeting with a client tonight, and your father is working late at the paper. Zelda made some lovely herb-crusted chicken for your father, and there's plenty left."

"Thanks, Mama," Midge grins, feeling about as tired as she looks. "I might eat some and then just- take a bath. Get some sleep."

"That's a good idea. You relax tonight, and we'll talk more in the morning," Rose promises. "Your father said he talked to you about maybe asking me to set you up."

"I'm considering it," Midge admits. "I just need a little more time to think."

Rose nods, patting her daughter's arm. "Have a good night, Miriam."

She watches her mother leave, and once the door closes, Midge takes a long look around her quiet apartment, and bursts into tears.

And it feels good to have a good, hard cry. It's hard to find time for it these days, she's almost always covered in people and always, always busy.

It takes her a little while to stop, and when she does, she decides on the bath instead of the food. She's just not hungry.

Hasn't been hungry.

She runs the water as hot as she can stand, and normally she'd pin her hair up and away from her face, but she's not in the mood tonight.

Tonight, she sits in the water, poking at soap bubbles, waiting until she's acclimated to the temperature.

Midge takes a deep breath, and sinks under.

And stays there for a long while, holding her breath, closing her eyes. Letting the world sink away, if only for a few moments.

When she comes back up, nothing is different. But she does feel a little better.

She stays in the bath for a while longer, until the water goes tepid, before getting out and draining the tub. She brushes and dries her hair. She puts her face cream on. She wraps herself in a warm robe.

Maybe she should just fucking call him. He left her his number "in case of emergencies," Lenny had stated. "In case something big comes up."

She can just imagine that conversation.

"Nothing is really wrong, but I dreamt that it was five years in the future and you died terribly, and I was helping your mother clean out your house and now I can't stop thinking about it so hi, how is California? Is your office as much of a disaster as it was in my dream? Did you hold onto a matchbook from the Wolford, by any chance?"

She dismisses the idea, makes herself a drink, thinks briefly about seeing if Joel will fuck her brains out just to feel something different, dismisses that idea too, and settles on getting drunk instead.

Three drinks in there's a knock on the door, and she wonders briefly is Joel is here to fuck her brains out so he can feel something different, but when she swings it open.

It's Lenny.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he says sheepishly, a small batch of roses in one hand.

"No vacancy," she tells him, before slamming the door in his face.

And she can hear him laughing on the other side of it, and knocking again. "Not looking for a room at the inn," he calls. "Just a quiet drink at the hotel bar."

When she opens the door again, he's grinning at her sadly.

"Roses are a very romantic flower you know," she tells him as she lets him in. "You could give a girl ideas with those. Assuming they're for me. They could be for someone else."

"They are not for someone else," he assures her, handing her the flowers. "They got a little frosty on the way over. Snowing again."

Midge nods and takes them to find a vase to put them in. "How is California?" she asks as she steps into the kitchen.

"Warm," he tells her. "Annoying. But worth it to see my kid...you look different."

"My hair is still a little damp. I washed it."

"Must be it," he concedes. "You're great on Gordon Ford, by the way. Really, Midge. I catch it every time I'm home for it. You're so fucking good."

"And I didn't even have to go on a date with you to get your opinion," she smirks as she settles the flowers into a vase and adjusts them before lifting them and moving to her bedroom. "You must be losing your touch."

Lenny follows her, concern coloring his voice. "Midge, what's wrong?"

She whirls around and looks at him in the eyes. "Why are you here? I haven't heard from you in three months, and you gave me a number that I'm only allowed to use in an emergency, meaning you didn't want me in your life, so what are you doing here now?"

"Mostly to apologize," he admits quietly, holding her gaze. "For being a fucking coward about this. About us."

"There isn't an us."

"There should have been." He takes a step towards her. "There still could be. I've been working hard to stay clean. I've been looking at apartments here in the city. I thought if you were feeling forgiving...maybe..."

Midge takes in a sharp breath and feels more tears threaten her.

And she has to wonder.

If she says no, does she start them both down the path of that awful nightmare? If she says yes, do they both avoid that fate? And is it deeply arrogant to think that her dreams have any baring on real life, or that if they do, she can enact change on them?

These are all deeply stupid questions.

She slumps down onto the edge of the bed. "I had a nightmare that you died of a drug overdose," she tells him.

Lenny freezes, tilting his head and looking confused.

"It was a terrible dream," She tells him. "And it's been following me around all day, and I think maybe I'm still mad at dream you for dying like that. Even though the real you is standing here, clearly alive."

Slowly, he regains movement and takes a seat next to her. "I'm very sorry that dream me fucked up so badly."

"I appreciate that," Midge grins a little. She sighs and reaches for his hand, threading her fingers with his. "And I am feeling forgiving."

"That's good, because I have a plan to make this up to you," Lenny tells her, snapping with his free hand. "A nice Valentine's Day dinner tomorrow night. Lindsay Trent is playing at a dance hall in Harlem after that, I thought we could go, hear some good music, catch up with the fellas, do some dancing, and then see where else the night takes us."

Midge nods. "That does sound really nice. You're lucky Susie scheduled me two nights off in a row this month. She didn't want to get me angry in case I wound up with a Valentine's Day date."

"Smart woman, that Susie," he says, stroking her fingers with his, looking down at their hands. "So? Tomorrow night?"

"You can pick me up at seven."

"I guess I should let you get some sleep then," he comments without moving.

She holds his hand harder, and he gazes at her.

"Stay with me?" Midge asks. "I know Riverside Drive isn't exactly your scene, but-"

Lenny leans in then, and presses a kiss to her temple. "I think I can manage one night without breaking out in hives."

She keeps her eyes closed, her muscles relaxing for the first time in...she doesn't even know.

[lamaisongaga]

INSTAGRAM CHIC: LADY GAGA RECORDS NEW MUSIC  WITH BLOODPOP IN BALMAIN & VALENTINO

It is known for a while that Lady Gaga is already back at working on her upcoming album. Last week it was revealed that she’s working with German techno DJ Boys Noize, and last night we got to know that Bloodpop’s back on board as well.

This eccentric piece might be familiar to you. 

The embroidered tribal knit jacket with black silk satin lining, jet beads and marabou feather trim is vintage Balmain from I Miss You Vintage.

Underneath, she wore Wolford’s Jamaika black string bodysuit with sheer tulle trim.

Both of her mismatched earrings are by Maria Black. On her left ear she opted for the Juno gold round open hoop earring while a gold horizontal earring graced her right ear.

We can also spot her Valentino Hologram Stars boots. 

These Chelsea-style boots are made of black calfskin leather and boast a stacked heel, pointed toe, elastic ankle gores and an all over tonal star motif.

[xarrixii]

comprehensive character list thus far (happy end of arc three!)

Harlow Ferris Collins (Urban) pyrokinetic (PY), protagonist, he/him, from the pyrokinetic rehab cycle, has trauma from his entire childhood leading up to about six months ago (chapter 20) at the time of chapter 48, knows some sign language

Alph Jury Roy-Wolford (Raiden) pyrokinetic (PY), protagonist, they/them, trained to become a cop like their father, super into cars and driving, has been mostly blind since chapter 37, unrequited love for Harlow

Amaterasu Wolford (occasionally "Matty") pyrokinetic (PY), Alph's mother, she/her, aromantic, runs the lower-scale side of Cinder, has a habit of drinking, smoking, and not giving a fuck. used to be in a biker gang

Garry Roy aerokinetic (AY), Alph's father, he/him, extremely supportive, a cop, Alph's second biggest inspiration

Loriann Collins electrokinetic (EK), Harlow's mother, she/her, abusive little piece of shit, ex military

Dan Collins out of practice telepath (TE), Harlow's father, he/him, borderline neglectful, completely unimportant

Ty Benjamin Roy electrokinetic (EK), Alph's adopted little brother, he/him, video game fanatic

Pierre Wheel Collins electrokinetic (EK), Harlow's dead twin, he/him

Gabriel Data Collins telepath (TE), Harlow's little brother, he/him, mute, knows sign language

Liam Ivaan Bauer telepath/telekinetic (TE/TK), criminal mentor, he/him, complete ass, Amaterasu's second-in-command, favorite weapon is the lid of his coffee that morning, bagel fanatic, knows sign language

Kyal Bauer aerokinetic (AY), Liam's older brother, he/him, clipboard/writing fanatic, Five's second-in-command

Isle Bauer telepath (TE), Liam's younger brother, he/him, Jackstalk's second-in-command, deaf, knows sign language

Dawn kineticless, only known member of Cinder R&D, she/her, definitely queer somehow

Ainsley pyrokinetic (PY), his way or the highway, he/him, taught Harlow how to knock people out with pyrokinesis

Jackstalk Wolford electrokinetic (EK), cannot summon, he/him, literally the nicest living electrokinetic in this damn story, controls Cinder's programs and investments, knows sign language

Five Wolford pyrokinetic (PY), completely blind apart from sensing heat for unknown reasons, he/him, extremely calm and polite, runs the high-scale branch of Cinder

Suzie Wolford pyrokinetic (PY), talked about only in passing, she/her, controls Cinder's research and intelligence branch

Morgen Wolford hydrokinetic/aerokinetic (HY/AY), talked about only in passing, he/they, Nacht's twin, went to go live a secluded life for unspecified reasons

Nacht Wolford telekinetic (TK), primary antagonist, he/him, unlabeled aroace, Raijin's father, founder and current leader of Storm, kinetic is fucked up for some reason

Raijin Wolford electrokinetic (EK), secondary antagonist, he/him, Nacht's son, an unapologetic, cocky, privileged asshole

Blake electrokinetic (EK), Storm's ex-spy on Cinder, he/him, was Harlow's obstacle for entering Cinder

Adiel Illya Marković telepath (TE), introduced very recently, she/her, enhances the senses, about to become a lot more fucking important

Charles Acoprit (Charlie) kineticless, Afyer's supervisor in Storm recruitment, he/him, smokes, kind of a dick

Afyer Octave pyrokinetic (PY), future best man at your wedding, he/him, silly and goofy, used to work in a coupon factory

Mark Bauer hydrokinetic/aerokinetic (HY/AY), Kyal's son, he/him, trained by Morgen, recent Storm hire

Chief Kepler hydrokinetic/aerokinetic (HY/AY), chief of the police, he/him

Murphy geokinetic (GE), front desk guy for the cops, he/him, decade out of practice

Doc telepath/telekinetic (TE/TK), he/him, Amaterasu's primary physician for her Cinder branch

Amy kineticless, she/her, nice pawn shop co-owner

"Amy's Dad" kineticless, he/him, old guy, nice pawn shop co-owner. don't even remember if I named him

missing someone? there's a ton of people. just ask me. also just fixed an error in chapter 10, changed "thirteen" to "fourteen"

[sonipanda]

Wolford Luxe 9 Tights

Wolford Luxe 9 Tights

I need summer to come as soon as possible, as I cannot wait to wear thinner deniers and nude tights without looking crazy. I decided to get the new thigh boots out to wear with this pair so it doesn’t look too revealing for winter. So I reviewed a pair a while ago, which were the toeless version of this pair. You can catch this review on the link below if you missed it (opens in a new…