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applejuicebegood · 10 months ago

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All My Love - Platonic!Gaz x Teammate!Reader

Fem!Reader

Summary: Stressing over the cooking for that evening and bad memories, Y/N finds Gaz who talks them through what their feeling. A/N: Wrote this for the very sweet @midnights-song and @kaoyamamegami for their very kind words on my last fic. This one is a sorta fallow up, please enjoy! Masterlist

Cw: Descriptions of absent + alcoholic mother, mentions of PTSD-related flashbacks, elder-child syndrome Word Count: 1960

The smell of cedar smoak and garlic clung to your hands and hair. A dull ache snaked its way up the back of your knees and into your thighs. Wringing your hands with a damp tea-towel you looked over your kitchen, the results of your labour tucked away in the humming oven and boiling on the stove top. Flour and spices swirled together across every vacant surface, oil-stained pots and bowls crowded your skink, and potato skins and egg shells were crowded in a pile across from the filled compost bin you were meaning to take outside to feed to your chickens. You puffed out a long breath, resting your wrists on your hips. You had finally finished all of the cooking for tonight's supper for your teammates.

Your experience with cooking has been relegated to that of your small family. The distant memories of your aunts and grandmothers crowded in the same kitchen where you stood now, knives and peelers making quick work of the harvested meat and potatoes your farm had cultivated. It was the only thing you recalled as you struggled to discern the cramped handwriting of the recipes left behind by your family. Their jovial laughing and quick gaelic speak now distant memories carved into the cabinets and countertops. Smeared on the vintage china and cast iron skillets hung on the oak walls. If you stayed still and concentrated enough you could remember the feeling of your grandmother's rough palm on your supple cheek and her lips on your forehead. The smell of milk and wheat wafting through your senses.

You were much younger then. Your fingers easily slipping onto the knife's blade and your wrists burned from boiling pasta water. You needed to use your baby sister's step stool to stand over the cutting board properly. Your mother was too busy passed out on the couch with a bottle of whiskey slipping from her limp grasp to worry about feeding her children. You were the eldest, therefore it became your job to try and emulate the effortless dance you watched your female relatives perform every holiday season or family reunion.

Now you were quicker, easily controlling the tools in your scarred, tattooed hands. Your time in the military proved helpful in quickening your reaction speed, allowing you to cut through the squash and potatoes faster than before. You had begun the cooking process that morning, refusing the offered help from your teammates. Insisting that guests shouldn’t be expected to cook and that you could handle it. And you could, although it resulted in the ache in your thighs spreading into your lower back, causing a hushed groan to escape from your throat as you tugged at the roots of your hair.

You quickly turned at the harsh thumping of boots on the creaking wooden stairs. Drawn out of your spiralling stupor.

‘Holy.. smells fucking amazing in here lass..’ ‘Language! Johny!’ You say through clenched teeth, motioning to the living room couch where your baby sister was supposed to be sitting next to your captain. The volume of the football game on the TV turned down. Johnny winced in apology, hushing his booming voice to a whisper. ‘Sorry.. Sorry, here you go sit.. I’ll clean’

Johnny says after looking you over and taking the towel from your hands. Your team had gotten good at noticing when exhaustion or strain worked its way into each other's bodies. Your hunched shoulders and wide eyes giving away your building stress. ‘Oh Johnny no.. you don’t have too-’ ‘Yea.. yea, Go sit lassie.. After mak’in all this food I’m surprised you're still standing’ Johnny says ushering you to the living room before patting your shoulder and turning to find a starting point in the stack of dishes.

You sigh. The instinct of obeying your higher ranking sergeant hadn’t seemed to wear off yet. Walking to the couch you expected to have your little sister squeal and jump into your arms. Only to find her little body curled against your captain’s side. Her hands bunched up under her chin, the delicate skin of her eyelids shut. Price’s head rested on the back of the couch with his arms stretched out over the cushions, his mouth slightly agape. You quietly leaned down to brush your sister's forehead, as if in response she snuggled her cheek against Price’s side at your touch, not wanting to be woken up just yet. Price twitched in his sleep, pulling Emi closer against him. You kissed the side of her head, pulling the knitted blanket up over her shoulders and across your captain's lap. The warm prick of relief spread across your skin at the realization that your baby sister had grown comfortable enough to fall asleep in the circle of your captain's embrace. Hoping that she had found someone other than you to admire and emulate.

You made your way to the back porch, pulling on a leather overcoat to protect your warmth from the bite of the winter air. As you swung the glass door open, the brush of cold against your warm cheeks soothed you, your breath clouding up in front of you. You looked out onto the backyard of your farm, a few metres of blanketed gardening space trailing out to the fenced off cliff side. The clothesline pole used in the warmer months stood to the right, the cable attached to the house swinging in the swirling wind. The fence built to keep your cows and sheep and your sisters from roaming too close to the cliff edge poked out from the dull white snow. Past the drop of land, you could see the storm-grey waves churning and thrashing against each other like fighting children. Stretching further into the distance. You slowed your breathing and shut your eyes, trying to test if you could hear the water slap against the cliff side. When you were little, you would climb through the wire fencing and peer over the cliff's edge, never realizing how if you took only a few more steps death would embrace you like the waves embraced the fistfulls of grass and pebbles you would toss over the edge. Sometimes you wished you could return to that state of not even being afraid of falling from a cliff face.

‘Hey.. Y/N?’ ‘Oh! Kyle.. shit you scared me!’

The jolt of surprise at Gaz’s voice ran up your spine and over your chest. In your daze, you didn’t realize Gaz settled on the porch's couch, a book from the living room shelf open in his lap. The deck held a few mismatched outdoor chairs and a couch, crowded with old throw pillows and spear blankets. Small metal lanterns hung overhead, painted and decorated by your sisters when they were both in primary school. The dwindling candle light gently swayed over Gaz’s smooth brown skin, a warm break from the multitude of grey stretching out before you.

‘Heh sorry, here.. Sit. You look like you need a break’ Your boots scuffed against the deck floor as you settled yourself by Kyle. You tucked your legs up underneath you with a groan. The pain settling in your legs. You were still fixated on the blurred horizon line stretching beyond the haze of clouds that were beginning to roll in from the town harbour. Gaz’s presence beside you blurring like the apparent ending of the surrounding oceans. ‘Hey.. you alright?’ Gaz asked with the snap of his book shutting. ‘Yeah.. yeah of course.. Just, just thinking about.. Ya know, I mean… I-I just want things to be good for you guys’ You say, looking up at him. Folding your arms over your chest. ‘What.. What do you mean? Y/N.. things have been perfect, I honestly don’t know what else you could do to make this trip more enjoyable’ ‘I know.. I mean- I think, I don’t know Gaz.. I just worry that.. that this isn’t.. Ugh! I don’t even know what i’m saying’ You chuckle, gripping your head as you run a hand through your hair. Glancing at Gaz you notice him scratching the jagged scar on his forearm.

It was during a mission in your last deployment that an enemy soldier split his skin open with a combat knife. Your stitches were frantic and clumsy, being that you were in the back of a moving helicopter for the evac and you had to watch the consciousness drain out of your friend's face. You noticed how as the cut started to heal Gaz would scratch at the scar absently, something that annoyed you being that it would remind you that the split wouldn't be so gnarled had you been able to keep your shaking hands steady. ‘You really have no clue how to stop worrying..’

His tone was sad, grey like the ocean waters.

‘Worrying ‘bout you lot is my job.. It’s not something I can just.. Turn off’ You were frustrated, picking at the loose threads of the embroidered pattern lacing around your skirt. ‘I get that. I had that during my first break home, not being able to remember how to.. Ya know.. Be normal. To be a person and not a soldier. God, it would drive Ma mad, how I could only get up at five in the morning and.. Ya know.. The flashbacks’ You watched him as he talked, his rich brown eyes cast down at his hands. ‘There really isn’t a proper way to “be normal”, not after what you've been through, what you’ve seen. But that's not something you have to figure out on your own.. I mean hell, most of us would be dead if you weren't on this team Y/N’ ‘Ha.. I know’ ‘Exactly, what I mean is.. You've got people around you who would do anything for you. And we are probably the only ones who know what it’s like to be stuck in trying to remember who you were before deployment. It’s something we’ve all experienced, so don’t you believe for a second you should go through it by yourself.’ Gaz leaned forward, placing his hand on your knee. You instinctively took his fingers into your own, his hands cold. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, gently nodding your head. Your smile tight, trying to hold back the growing dampness in the corners of your eyes. You squeezed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckle. He squeezed your fingers back, a silent language you shared when words were too daunting to put together. You always found it shocking how this kind of comfort felt like it was being directed at someone else. Like it was a puzzle piece ripped in half, it could still fit in the piece but it appeared foreign. You weren't used to it, and how easily it appeared to flow from Gaz. In his words and in his viable willingness to help you. The unusual sensation of being understood made it hard to express your gratitude for it, Gaz knew this. Which is why you both sat there, in a shared understanding only the both of you as colleagues and friends could have. ‘You smell great by the way’

His blunt comment caused a ripple of laughter to fall from your lips, a tear drifting down the bridge of your nose. ‘You dick..’ You scoffed, leaning your head onto his shoulder, tucking your arm under his.

‘Do aingeal den sórt sin’

You mumble, directing your attention back to the grey horizon line. ‘What does that mean..?’ Gaz asks, following your gaze outwards. You respond with a simple sigh. The stress and aching dissipated for the moment, something you didn’t want to risk losing with your supposed inability to properly thank Gaz for his tenderness and care.

A/N: ‘Do aingeal den sórt sin’ translates to 'your such an angel' in Irish Gaelic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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By His Command 3

Summary: the commander arrives. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thank you for reading! Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

The martha comes to fetch you as the sky dims outside the iron bars. You follow her to the kitchen where she has a sparse array of produce. A few potatoes, some leeks, and a clove of garlic.

“You will help,” she says bluntly.

“Praise be,” you reply but receive only a sharp look.

“Peel,” she takes out a peeler and puts it before you. “We’ve had no handmaid, so a guardian delivers the produce. It is never enough.”

You nod and go to work. You drag the blade along the skin, stripping it away, and let it drop to the counter. You pick out an eye from the potato and set down the naked spud, grabbing the next. That martha chops with heavy, short thunks against the cutting board.

When you’re done, you gather up the skins. She points you to the bin and you dump them there. You rinse your hands and face her. She puts a pot on the stove, ignoring your expectant gaze. You don’t dare ask what to do next as you only feel in the way.

“We’ll do a stew, bake some fresh bread,” she instructs, “tomorrow, you will go to Loaves and Fishes so we can fill the pantry.”

“Praise be,” you agree. She sighs.

She dumps the ingredients all together in the pot, adding some pork bones for flavour in the broth and some rise to round it out. It’s better than what you got at the center but you won’t presume that you’ll share the same stock.

“Martha,” the wife enter’s in her blue dress. Long straight sleeves and cinched waist. You bow your head so your bonnet hides your face. She sidesteps you, shouldering you away without acknowledgement.

“Mrs. Hansen,” the martha falters, her previous derision gone.

“Toss the stew, we’ve received a duck from Commander Bodecker. You know he loves to hunt.”

She puts a crate on the counter. The martha reaches to slide it towards her and pulls back the cloth to peer inside. You look at your feet, wiggling your toes in your red socks.

“The Commander has returned,” the wife continues, “the table must be set.”

“I will have the handmaid do it,” the martha confirms.

“Pray that she can handle such a task,” the wife rebukes and sweeps around, strutting out without even a glance in your direction.

The martha reaches into the crate and pulls out the dead mallard. You wrinkle your nose at the mussed green feathers. You look away.

“Well, would you rather lay some spoons out or undress this?” She asks brusquely.

You go to the cupboards and pull a door open. You only find plain metal canisters. She comes over and shuts the door, opening the next to reveal the plates. You bring one down, then a second. She slides a drawer out.

“Take one for yourself. Three,” she instructs.

You wince and pull out another plate.

“When you dine with the Commander and his wife, you say nothing, you look at nothing but your plate, you eat only what they allow you,” she hisses.

“I understand.”

“If only you could.”

She counts out the cutlery and puts it atop the stack of plates.

“Napkins beside the stove. Wrap the silverware.”

You go to the drawer nearest the stove and find the pale white napkins trimmed with blue flowers. You add them to your lot and the martha points you through the archway that looks into the dining room. You hear her mutter as she turns back to the duck.

You roll up the cutlery tightly in the fabric. Like swaddling a baby. You go around, chair by chair, plate and cutlery.

As you arrange the last, only thinking then of the glassware, a soft noise brings your head up. A man in navy blue leans in the doorway. You did not hear him or sense him. You cannot guess for how long he’s been there but you can guess at his identity.

You dip your head down and step away from the table, “Commander.”

He breaks the threshold and strides around the other side of the table. You keep your chin down, jaw locked, as you listen, don’t look. The glimpse of his face floats in your vision. Tidy combed hair and shaved sides, a trim of hair across his lip, and handsomely forged features.

He stops behind a chair and you feel his gaze on you.

“Blessed be the fruit, Ofloyd,” he rolls the name on his tongue.

“May the Lord open,” you eke out.

He chuckles. You bite your lip. The only people who laughed were the aunts, and it often meant trouble. He grips the back of the chair.

“I am the lord’s agent but it will not be him who does the… opening,” he intones, his tone dripping salaciously. “So, Ofloyd, will you open yourself to me?”

You don’t know how to answer. This is not how the aunts speak; or the guardians; or the handmaids.

“Praise be,” you gulp.

He snickers and twists his grip on the back of the chair.

“You have no idea,” he slips a hand down, brushing along the front of his trousers, “praise, there will be.”

He growls and leans back on his heel. There is no time to respond. He is already on his way. As quickly as he appeared, he is gone again, leaving only dread and the scent of cedarwood.

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #au #drabble #series #handmaid au #by his command

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velarisbynight · 4 months ago

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Ten Minutes

Emerie x Gwyn

Day 2 for @acotar-omegaverse-week — Turning Up The Heat: You seem a little flushed, darling… is everything alright?

a/n: Sapphics + cooking and now I’m craving ciabatta

Warnings: sexual themesss

word count: 1.3k~

~~~~~~~~

“You have turmeric on your nose.”

Ginger eyelashes flutter, teal eyes crossing over as they attempt to spot the stray spice. Gwyn swipes the pad of her middle finger across the rounded tip of her nose twice before glancing back to the Illyrian female, dough and flour stuck to her palms. “Gone?” Gwyn asks, inclining her chin for better lighting. Emerie’s lips curve at their corners, irises softening at their edges. “Gone,” she reports, landing a brief kiss to the clean skin—tasting slightly of turmeric.

“I’m not even using turmeric,” Gwyn mumbles under her breath, turning back to the chopping board, dicing up the sun-dried peppers, and onions before tossing them into a miniature cauldron that’s being heated atop a fire-fuelled stove. Emerie watches her omega through her periphery, lips twitching at the furrowed set of Gwyn’s brow as she moves onto chopping the cabbage, quartering it smoothly before removing its base, “Turmeric’s lid is a bit loose. It probably spilled on something you touched.” Steel effortlessly slices the leaves, rustling as it cuts through the tightly packed vegetable.

“Oh.” Gwyn holds up the narrow glass jar of ginger. “Found the turmeric.”

Sure enough, the distinct powdery spice is dusting the glass, colouring the handwritten label a chalky orange, smudging across Gwyn’s neat script. “We should probably clean the cupboard out…” Gwyn murmurs to herself, glancing across the kitchen to their spice shelf. “You think so? I’m sure we’re fine for now. Wait until everything’s messier before starting a big clean.” Teal eyes shoot a playful glare toward the Illyrian, met with a faint smile before brown eyes are returning to the dough, laying it into a baking tray. “Pass the oil?”

“Only if I can pour it.”

A huff of laughter. “Sure.”

Gwyn holds the bottle of oil aloft, supporting the neck as she drizzles the lipid-like liquid swiftly up and down the rectangular expanse. “And do you want to do the next part also?” Emerie muses from her omega’s side, a faint saltiness colouring Gwyn’s usually crisp scent: a mixture of rosemary and herbs with traces of dust and parchment. The priestess’ nose wrinkles with faux appal despite the twinkle in her teal eyes. “I’d rather not get oil all over my hands.”

“Mhmm.” Emeries pushes her fingers into the dough, the chopped olives and sliced tomatoes peeking out in places with a scattering of rosemary atop the surface.

“Smells good,” Gwyn comments, returning to her own station besides cauldron, grating cloves of garlic into the wrought iron bowl. “Yours or mine?”

“Both, really. Though particularly yours. The hallways always used to smell of baking yeast in the early mornings.” Back at the temple, she leaves unsaid. Gwyn’s eyes no longer shutter as they used to, but there’s a sadness to her face.

Emerie presses a silent kiss to her temple, causing teal eyes to flicker upwards. “I’m glad you still like it,” Emerie murmurs, enraptured by the dilation of black pupil through such clear, rippling blue. Creamy cheeks warm with colour, fiery hair curling around damp temples as Gwyn manages a smile. “They’re good memories. Even if it…” Her throat rolls, eyes flitting away once before returning to Emerie’s. “Well, I don’t want to talk about that now.”

“No? You don’t want a dose of emotional vulnerability while cabbage vapour infuses into your skin?”

Rosey lips stretch in a closed smile, a huff of laugher exhaling from the priestess’ nose. “You’re the one who doesn’t like it. I think it smells lovely.”

“Mhmm.”

“Don’t mhmm me.” Gwyn levels her mate with a look, lips still curved at their corners, arms folding across an aproned-chest. “You’re the one who does’t mind the smell of sweat.”

Emerie releases a long-suffering sigh. “I said I don’t mind the smell of your sweat. It’s different.”

“Mhmm.”

Emerie glares, but it’s clearly fake, mirth rolling in her gorgeous dark eyes. “You’ll want to take that off the boil now,” she reminds, the drawl laced with low amusement.

“I know what I’m doing,” Gwyn huffs, slipping her hands into the thick mittens and lifting the cauldron from the fire-magic stove, hauling it onto the side closer to the spice shelf. From having her back turned to her alpha, Emerie can make out the dainty hairs curling at the nape of Gwyn’s neck, creamy skin damp and dewy from the humidity of the kitchen. She chooses to sidle up beside her omega, splashing her hands with soap and water, bubbles frothing up from the sink. “Want to bathe later?”

The question’s phrased innocently enough, but Gwyn shoots a glare nonetheless. “To clean, right?”

“Cleaning would be involved,” Emerie agrees, eyes twinkling though they remain on the thick lather she’s working up between her hands as the fragranced bar slips and slides. “I’m sure working in a kitchen all day is enough to earn a long soak.” That look of suspicion remains in Gwyn’s features, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, chin inclined as she carefully observes her mate. Though she can’t deny that the idea of slipping into a large tub of pleasantly heated water, misty from soap and fragrances, steam beading on the cool, pale-tiled walls of their bathroom…working suds through her her hair, running her fingers through the strands to relieve any knots…it’s little short of heavenly. Gwyn’s tongue flicks out over hot and dry lips.

“Is that a yes?” Emerie muses, the smile obvious from her tone alone.

Gwyn’s teeth prod at the interior of her lower lip, considering. It would be nice. Especially after training and then having spent the rest of the morning in the damp heat of the kitchen, then getting out, drying off and being clean and fresh…she’d probably still have a while to wait though, until the food would be done… Time to fill…in a bath…with… “A separate bath each…?”

Emeries’s expression turns pained, thick brows curving upward. “If that’s what you’d like,” she concedes, tone hyperbolically strained. “You’re suggesting we bathe together?” Gwyn deadpans. Emerie’s expression changes, dark eyes gleaming as her lips curve smugly, “It’s happened before.” A slight flush colours pale cheeks but Gwyn holds her gaze. Emerie leans closer, noses almost touching, “And I know you rather enjoyed it.”

The flush deepens magnificently, making it difficult to pick out the pale gold of Gwyn’s eyebrows, having her appear rather startled. Emerie’s lips curve further into a self-satisfied smirk, the priestess huffing indignantly, “not as much as you, apparently.”

“I can’t help how beautiful you look when you—”

“Do not.” The flush is bright red now, teal eyes breathtakingly beautiful against the vivid colour of the Priestess’ hot skin. Her alpha hums, a glimmer in her eyes but she keeps quiet. Gwyn raises her chin, daring Emerie to say something, but instead Emerie turns the tap, reaching for the hand towel. “Would you like to go first, then?”

Gwyn narrows her eyes at her mate, observing her for more than a few moments, before undoing the ties of her apron, folding it neatly and setting it on the side. “I’m going to run my bath,” Gwyn declares matter-of-factly, fingers straying over the linen as she steps slowly back. “Give me ten minutes to myself.”

Emerie swallows. “And then…?” Gwyn shrugs but her eyes glint, still stepping away, marking the grip her mate has on the hand towel. “I want to clean myself up a little first, before…” There’s a note in her voice. Feigned innocence—Gwyn knows exactly what she’s doing. Smart Valkyrie.

Emerie’s throat is dry. “Before…?”

The priestess shrugs. “Company, perhaps.”

“Company.” Emerie repeats, voice soft; strained, “And this…company…” Gwyn hums absently, as if Emerie can’t pick out the sweetened scent. “Cleaning?” The Illyrian female clarifies, voice rasping. Scratchy.

Rosey lips curve invitingly, “Cleaning would be involved.”

Oh, she knows exactly—

Gwyn sends a grin over her shoulder, before vanishing from the kitchen, leaving a trail of rosemary and herbs, and the sweetest trace of buttery almonds. Ten minutes.

Emeries inhales tightly before blowing it out, glancing down to the hand towel she’s gripping.

Ten minutes.

#emerie x gwyn #gwyn x emerie #a court of thorns and roses #acotaromegaverse2024 #ten minutes

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apoemaday · 2 years ago

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The Lion for Real

by Allen Ginsberg

“Soyez muette pour moi, Idole contemplative…”

I came home and found a lion in my living room Rushed out on the fire escape screaming Lion! Lion! Two stenographers pulled their brunnette hair and banged the window shut I hurried home to Patterson and stayed two days

Called up old Reichian analyst who’d kicked me out of therapy for smoking marijuana ‘It’s happened’ I panted ‘There’s a Lion in my living room’ 'I’m afraid any discussion would have no value’ he hung up

I went to my old boyfriend we got drunk with his girlfriend I kissed him and announced I had a lion with a mad gleam in my eye We wound up fighting on the floor I bit his eyebrow he kicked me out I ended up masturbating in his jeep parked in the street moaning 'Lion.’

Found Joey my novelist friend and roared at him 'Lion!’ He looked at me interested and read me his spontaneous ignu high poetries I listened for lions all I heard was Elephant Tiglon Hippogriff Unicorn Ants But figured he really understood me when we made it in Ignaz Wisdom’s bathroom.

But next day he sent me a leaf from his Smoky Mountain retreat 'I love you little Bo-Bo with your delicate golden lions But there being no Self and No Bars therefore the Zoo of your dear Father hath no lion You said your mother was mad don’t expect me to produce the Monster for your Bridegroom.’

Confused dazed and exalted bethought me of real lion starved in his stink in Harlem Opened the door the room was filled with the bomb blast of his anger He roaring hungrily at the plaster walls but nobody could hear outside thru the window My eye caught the edge of the red neighbor apartment building standing in deafening stillness We gazed at each other his implacable yellow eye in the red halo of fur Waxed rhuemy on my own but he stopped roaring and bared a fang greeting. I turned my back and cooked broccoli for supper on an iron gas stove boilt water and took a hot bath in the old tup under the sink board.

He didn’t eat me, tho I regretted him starving in my presence. Next week he wasted away a sick rug full of bones wheaten hair falling out enraged and reddening eye as he lay aching huge hairy head on his paws by the egg-crate bookcase filled up with thin volumes of Plato, & Buddha.

Sat by his side every night averting my eyes from his hungry motheaten face stopped eating myself he got weaker and roared at night while I had nightmares Eaten by lion in bookstore on Cosmic Campus, a lion myself starved by Professor Kandisky, dying in a lion’s flophouse circus, I woke up mornings the lion still added dying on the floor–'Terrible Presence!’ I cried 'Eat me or die!’

It got up that afternoon–walked to the door with its paw on the south wall to steady its trembling body Let out a soul-rending creak from the bottomless roof of his mouth thundering from my floor to heaven heavier than a volcano at night in Mexico Pushed the door open and said in a gravelly voice “Not this time Baby--but I will be back again.”

Lion that eats my mind now for a decade knowing only your hunger Not the bliss of your satisfaction O roar of the universe how am I chosen In this life I have heard your promise I am ready to die I have served Your starved and ancient Presence O Lord I wait in my room at your Mercy.

#poetry #allen ginsberg #the lion for real #a personal favorite

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years ago

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My Fic Rec List

my tagging system is absolute crap so ive decided to put together a fic rec list of all my fave fics so i can find them.

Elvis Presley

Ten Minutes // @aconflagrationofmyown

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [Army Elvis] Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4662 Summary: Elvis just might get jealous of his children, the stove, the ironing board and anything else that has your attention one hectic morning before he has to go to the Army Base

Happy Fuckin’ Birthday // @headfullofpresley

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [Baby Boy Elvis] Rating: Explicit Word count: 3194 Summary: Elvis is needy during his birthday dinner and wants your attention, not caring about anyone else in the room.

More Than Friends // @headfullofpresley

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader [Baby Boy Elvis] Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4400 Summary: You and Elvis have been best friends since birth. You have been each others' first for pretty much everything so you couldn't picture yourself losing your virginity to anyone else

.Pink Scarf // @missmaywemeetagain

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [DILF Elvis] Rating: Explicit Word Count: TBC [Currently Part 19] Summary: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.

Sentimental Over You // @elvisabutler

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [Big Daddy Elvis] Rating: Gen Word Count: 867 Summary: sometimes your fiancé's insomnia has its perks. namely that he'll let you sleep while your daughter and him have a little one on one time.

Your Teddy Bear // @steph-speaks

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [DILF Elvis] Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2871 Summary: Reader is on the phone to a friend but Elvis can’t wait

Just to Keep You Satisfied // @dulcewrites

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [DILF Era] Rating: Mature Word Count: 1500 Summary: As you and Elvis sit down to go over you separation papers, you two reminisce and Elvis makes a final plea for you two to stay together.

Strawberry Milkshake // @headfullofpresley

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [DILF Era] Rating: Explicit Word count: 1631 Summary: Reader and Elvis enjoy more than just shopping in a dressing room stall

Treat Me Nice // Josephine_221B

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader [Hollywood Elvis] Rating: Explicit Word count: 4710 Summary: When the reader is struggling with the way she views her body, Elvis shows her why he loves it.

Austin Butler

Prettiest Thing // @ab4eva

Pairing: Austin Butler x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1276 Summary: You and Austin slip away during a family dinner for a little one-on-one time in the car.

Sloppy // @cowboylor

Pairing: Austin Butler x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1000 Summary: Reader and Austin have fun in a bathroom stall

Tonight I Wish I Was Your Boy // butlerstyles

Pairing: Austin Butler x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6373 Summary: Austin gets jealous and you ride him while wearing a necklace that's engraved with his name.

Chris Evans

The Big 4-0 // @rocketrhap3000

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2325 Summary: Reader and Chris spend the morning of his 40th birthday in bed.

Harry Potter

The Clockwork Locket // orphaned account

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character Rating: Teen Word Count: 241276 Summary: Cassie Alderfair has done an exceptional job being discreet at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But her days of invisibility are disrupted in her fifth year when an unfortunate night of mischief draws attention from the infamous Marauders, and a secret comes to light that may turn the tides of the war

Marvel

Going Down // cjmarlowe

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Original Female Characters Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3935 Summary: Steve gets all the girls on tour. Or rather, all the girls on tour get Captain America.

Movies

‘Atta Girl // @legends-of-apex

Pairing: Tangerine x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 819 Summary In which Tangerine fingers f!reader in the bathroom of a fancy restaurant. Featuring lots of Tangerine’s use of pet names and encouragement.

Friends Support Friends // @radicalbilly

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count 3060 Summary: Now Billy may not have many friends but he’s never going to let his best friend suffer from a subpar experience.

Ice Cream and Old Knees // orphaned account

Pairing: Seth Meyers x Colin Jost Rating: Explicit Word Count 2275 Summary: Seth welcomes Colin to the Weekend Update family.

#my fic rec #fic rec #chris evans #elvis presley #sirius black fic

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kelliealtogether · 2 years ago

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Last spoons. Now there is a set of four. 🪴

The Barns was where Adam went to get away.

Also to see Ronan, but after spending the work week in Washington, the farm was a welcome respite from city life. Convenience and variety made D.C. nice—Adam could buy toothpaste at midnight and go a month without eating the same kind of food twice—but it was exhausting: his daily commute, tourists at the Garden’s conservatory, all the noise from cars and buses and the Metro.

Most weeks, by Friday afternoon he was more than ready to leave the city, even if it meant a two hour drive before he could really begin his weekend. But with every mile he put between himself and Washington, Adam relaxed a little bit more, so by the time he pulled into the Barns' driveway, he was as loose as he could possibly be.

It wasn't any different for him that Friday, and, for once, he was glad to be at the conservatory; it was a few minutes faster getting out of D.C. from there, and Adam would take any advantage that got him in Ronan's presence closer to seven than eight. Shortly before five, Adam slipped into the administrative offices, said goodbye to Blue, and then he was in his car on his way out of the city. He didn't even need to stop home first. Over the past year, some of his clothes had migrated to the Barns and he had a duplicate of every toiletry and creature comfort he had in his condo in Ronan's bathroom and bedroom.

Because Adam had a home in both places.

And because the Barns was as much his home as his condo in D.C., Adam sensed there was something wrong as soon as he stepped through the front door. Not wrong wrong, because their Friday routine seemed intact, but like the time he came home to a leaking ceiling courtesy of a toddler, an inattentive parent, and an overflowing bathtub. Like that night, the base of Adam’s skull hollowed, the skin on the back of his neck prickled, responses unique to something being not quite right.

On the surface, everything seemed right though. Adam had parked next to Ronan’s BMW, and Ronan’s usual shoes sat in their usual pile beside the front door. The rich fragrance of cooking onions, peppers, and spices filled the house, which meant Ronan was making dinner, and that gave Adam a little relief. Fajitas, too, by the smell of it, a recipe he’d silently added to his rotation after Adam mentioned he liked Tex-Mex. Everything had the familiar trappings of their standard Friday night.

Except normally, by the time Adam shut the door behind himself, took his jacket off, and lined his shoes up next to Ronan’s pile, Ronan would have at least stuck his head out of the kitchen, if not stepped all the way into the front hall, depending on the level of attention dinner needed.

Ronan didn’t do either, the first concrete sign something wasn’t quite right.

Then Adam noticed the silence.

Not absolute silence. Between the life lived within it and the age of the farmhouse, the Barns was never completely quiet. There was always a creaking floorboard, the low rumble of the dryer, a glass being set down on a table.

From the kitchen, Adam heard the sound of a spatula scraping a pan and the quiet squeak of the oven door as it opened and closed.

What he didn’t hear was music from the Bluetooth speaker on the windowsill, no jaunty Irish folk song, no thudding EDM, sounds that broke up the monotony of the knife hitting the cutting board as Ronan sliced, chopped, and diced.

And that was almost more concerning than the lack of greeting.

Heading down the hall, Adam walked into the kitchen, half expecting to find Ronan wearing a pair of massive, expensive headphones, using them to listen to music instead of the speaker. But he wasn’t. He stood at the stove, pushing the fajita filling around in a cast iron skillet, and as Adam entered the kitchen, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Keeping the unease in his voice to a minimum, and not bringing up this was decidedly abnormal behavior for Ronan, Adam asked, “You good?”

“Why wouldn’t I be good?” Ronan put his spatula down and turned around to face Adam, furrowing his eyebrows. He looked genuinely confused—a look Adam didn’t like because Ronan wasn’t often confused unless he was faking it with one of his nieces—until Adam waved toward the front door and then at the Bluetooth speaker. Following Adam’s gestures, Ronan’s face after a moment, enough for it to be more bearable, and he scrubbed a hand over his jaw before he looked at Adam and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because—no offense, Lynch—you don’t seem like it.” Crossing the kitchen to stand in front of Ronan, Adam hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of Ronan’s jeans before spreading his hands over Ronan’s hips. His fingers slipped under Ronan’s t-shirt, and Adam pressed them into Ronan’s skin, letting the warm solidity of Ronan ground him for a second. There had been plenty of times one of them had been not fine, and Adam found even the barest bit of skin on skin made it more tolerable to talk about it. “Is this still about the doctor thing?” he asked, direct and plain, just to get it out there.

Adam didn’t really want to rehash an argument they’d had earlier in the week about Ronan not going for a basic check-up in years. It had been bad enough the first time, and Adam didn't care to reprise the biggest fight they'd had, even if it worked out in his favor. Even if he still didn't understand why.

Ronan had taken care of his ailing mother for more than a decade. He knew how important medical treatment was.

Yet he hadn’t gone for a basic wellness exam since his early thirties.

Adam’s reaction to learning that had been very candid and, in hindsight, more than a little callous. Ronan was, understandably, defensive and belligerent, until Adam blurted out he wanted Ronan to take care of himself because he loved Ronan and wanted him to be around for a long, long time.

After that, Ronan almost immediately agreed to call a doctor and Adam felt miserable enough to sincerely apologize, even though they rarely said they were sorry.

But if it still irked Ronan, Adam wanted to get it behind them so they could enjoy their weekend. The Barns was meant for good weekends, a paradise where they could lose themselves for a few days together before returning to real life.

“No. Jesus. Don’t be a shit about that again. I told you I’d make an appointment.” Ronan rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and let out a long breath between his teeth before he looked at Adam again. "I'm in a—funk. Or something."

"A funk. About?" In lieu of response, Ronan grunted and waved his hands around as if to say everything, and Adam raised his eyebrows. He knew Ronan, but he'd need a little more than an all-encompassing gesture to weed out what the problem really was. "That helps a lot."

"Go to hell," Ronan said without malice, moving closer to Adam and dropping his forehead onto Adam's shoulder. Unhooking his thumbs, Adam wrapped his arms all the way around Ronan and held him until Ronan murmured into the side of his neck, "I can't—I need to do something."

If it got Ronan talking, they could do something—anything—and Adam nodded, cheek rubbing against Ronan’s buzz cut. “Okay,” he said. Fajitas tasted just as good reheated, and he moved away from Ronan to turn the stovetop and oven off before holding his hand out to Ronan. “Come on. Let’s walk.”

“Dinner, Parrish.”

“I’d prefer eating with you when you’re out of your funk.”

“Might starve, then.”

“Come on, Ronan.”

Ronan took Adam’s hand and, together, they walked into the hall and shoved their feet into shoes. Adam threw Ronan’s leather jacket at him before he could leave the house without it, and, hand-in-hand, they walked down the front steps and onto the dirt track that ran between the farm’s long-fallow fields. In better weather, it was a route they took often, a long walk out to where the dirt road ended at the edge of the woods before turning around and walking back to the house or sometimes out to where the end of the driveway met the main road. Being quiet for most of that walk wasn’t unusual, and, this time, they were nearly to the treeline before Ronan spoke.

“I can’t do this,” he said, voice gritty and strained, almost as if it were being drawn out of him by torture.

Adam knew it wasn’t meant in an I’m breaking up with you way, but that didn’t stop a thorny vine from wrapping around his heart in a vise for a moment. It took a few breaths for it to untangle itself, but once it did, he waited, watching Ronan out of the corner of his eye. Ronan’s head was tilted back, his gaze on the dusty purple of the spring evening, and his grip on Adam’s hand was as tight as the look on his face. All Adam wanted was to reach over and rub away the tension in Ronan’s jaw, but he didn’t, not wanting to interrupt Ronan’s struggle with getting his thoughts into words.

They were all the way to the woods when Ronan sighed, groaned, and scraped his free hand over his face. Then he continued, “The other night, you said you wanted me around for a long time.”

“It was a long, long time, if I remember correctly.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Ronan bumped his shoulder into Adam’s, and when Adam glanced at him, Ronan had relaxed enough to smile a little. Staying close so their arms brushed as they made the turn to head back toward the house, he said, “I don’t want to be around like this. Weekends and random Tuesdays and shit. It works, but—I want to be around all the time.”

With that statement, Ronan pushed them into an inevitable conversation, one they’d been dancing around and avoiding since they’d talked about their future after Adam met Ronan’s family. A conversation Adam hadn’t planned on having that weekend, but one that was rooted in the fight he’d started, so he didn’t feel like he could change the subject. And he didn’t want to change the subject, because he’d willingly admit he liked the prospect of seeing Ronan all the time. Leaving him, watching him leave—those weren’t Adam’s favorite parts of the week, even if he knew it was only a few days before he saw Ronan again.

Letting go of Ronan’s hand, Adam wound his arm around Ronan and Ronan wrapped his arm around Adam, and they walked hip to hip in comfortable quiet for a few yards before Adam said, “You want to move to D.C.”

He didn’t pose it as a question, because it wasn’t. The joint future they’d talked about depended on them living together permanently, even if they hadn’t put a timeline on when that would happen. What Ronan was suggesting was only possible if he moved to Washington; Adam didn’t have the luxury of remote work, and a four hour round-trip commute everyday wasn’t sustainable. As much as he liked driving, as much as he loved the Barns, that arrangement could end up worse than what they currently had. So their option was Adam’s condo or continuing with what they were doing, and Ronan didn’t appear interested in that.

Adam wasn’t either.

“Yeah,” Ronan replied, easy, casual, like Adam should have intuited what he was going to say. “Your mattress is terrible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to wake up on it every day.”

Laughing a little, because only Ronan would insult Adam’s bed when he wanted to fall asleep in it every night, Adam said, “We can get a new mattress.”

They could redecorate the whole condo if Ronan wanted to. Whatever it took to make it theirs. Which was apparently what Ronan had in mind because he said, “And a new couch.”

“That’s going a bit far.”

“I’ve sat on it enough to know it sucks.”

Adam laughed again and leaned into Ronan for a few steps. For the mood he’d been in when Adam arrived, Adam had expected they would pace the dirt road until it got dark while Ronan told him what was wrong in fits and starts. He hadn’t expected Ronan’s revelation to come so easily, to already be out before they were a quarter of the way back to the house. But it made sense. Ronan had had the few days after their fight to think things through. He already knew what he wanted.

But that didn’t explain Ronan being in a self-described funk when he’d already made up his mind and had moved onto interior designing. Ronan wasn’t prone to lying, but he was prone to omitting a fact or two, which meant the crux of Ronan’s bad mood wasn’t moving to D.C. Gently, Adam said, “You didn’t make up your mind today, did you?”

It took Ronan a moment to answer, and Adam heard him breathe in and let it out through his teeth before he said, “No.” Then Ronan scraped his hand over his jaw again and shook his head. “No. That wasn’t a hard decision.”

“Then why were you—are you—in a funk?”

Again, it took Ronan a while to answer, and before he did, he slowed them to a stop. “I want it,” he told Adam, “but I feel shitty for wanting it.”

Taking his arm from around Ronan, Adam stepped in front of him. The sun had sunk further behind the mountains to the west, leaving the Barns in the last dregs of dusk, and Ronan’s face was shadowed. It didn’t matter anyway. He wasn’t looking at Adam but at the field over Adam’s shoulder as Adam asked, “Why?” Any other time, he would have said something about Ronan having too much Catholic guilt, but it didn’t seem like the night for that.

“Because why would I want to leave this?” Ronan held his arms out, jabbing his hands at the fields and outbuildings around them, frustration thinning his voice. “There’s so much—I used to do donuts in the BMW there.” He pointed to a field to the right of them. “God, it was so fucking muddy. It was great. And Declan broke his arm when I dared him to jump off that roof.” Ronan pointed to a shed that looked unstable but probably hadn’t been twenty years ago. “I grew up here. I took care of my mom here. Why would I want to leave this?”

As much as he wanted to give Ronan one, Adam didn’t have a good answer. There wasn’t a good reason why Ronan would want to replace the Barns with Washington, D.C.. The Barns was a paradise, an idyll, a respite, and Adam loved it too, though he knew his love was dwarfed by Ronan’s. Ronan, who had known nothing but living at the Barns for almost forty years, who had all those years of memories of the place, be they good or bittersweet.

Ronan, who was willing to uproot himself for Adam because Adam couldn’t uproot himself for Ronan.

Adam, who was a good enough reason for Ronan to leave.

Except—

“You’re not leaving forever,” Adam said. It might not have been intelligent or wise or sage. It might not have been what Ronan needed to hear.

All that mattered was it was true.

Though with the darkening evening he couldn’t see Ronan’s grimace or his narrowed eyes, Adam knew they were there, because Ronan’s voice was still thin when he replied, “Stop, Parrish.”

“You’re not,” Adam repeated. Stepping closer to Ronan, he put his hands on either side of Ronan’s neck, fingers finding the hooks of the tattoo that crawled up from Ronan’s collar. That close, Adam could see the tight line of Ronan’s lips and crinkles at the corner of his eyes, and Adam’s thumbs itched to rub them away, but he didn’t. “The Barns doesn’t disappear when you put your back to it. It’s magic, but it’s not that magic.” He smiled a little when Ronan made an argumentative sound in the back of his throat. “And, Ronan, if you don’t want—”

“I want to,” Ronan interrupted. He put his hands on Adam’s shoulders and held them tightly. “I want to so fucking bad you have no idea.”

“So then move to D.C.,” Adam told him quietly. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than for Ronan to move in with him, but it wasn’t Adam’s decision to make. He wasn’t the one leaving the place he’d lived his whole life behind. He wasn’t the one who’d have regrets. “Move to D.C. with me and we’ll come back here whenever you want. Every weekend. Every holiday. I’ll drive.”

Ronan laughed, loud and sharp, and Adam knew there was nothing else he’d have to say. He wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck when Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam’s shoulders, and Ronan kissed Adam’s cheek before he said, “Like shit you’re driving.”

“Fine,” Adam replied, already making the first of many concessions, “if that’s what it takes to get you to Washington.”

Holding Adam tighter, Ronan kissed his cheek again, then he moved his lips to Adam’s ear and murmured, “Parrish, you’re more than enough.”

They stood there for a while, hugging and swaying as the moon came up and cast the Barns in silver paleness, then they kissed and swayed some more. Eventually they started back toward the house, arms still around one another, talking about the practical at Adam’s insistence: where Ronan would set up a new woodshop, when they’d tell Gansey, Blue, and Ronan’s brothers, how they’d split expenses, when they’d start looking for a place meant for more than two.

It certainly wasn’t the night Adam thought he would have, beginning to plan the rest of their lives.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t all very good.

#adam parrish: botanist 🪴#unedited #these will get cleaned up and put on ao3 sometime maybe 🤷‍♀️

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univrsalsound · 1 year ago

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how about playing with their hair while they sleep for kovak and ilspeth!! 😳

— from this ask prompt.

A candle burns on the windowsill of the gardener’s cottage on the edge of the Zevoraxi estate. Despite Ilspeth’s suggestion to see Kovak moved into the room adjacent the master suite within the main house, Kovak can’t bring herself to abandon this last bastion of familiarity – the last remnants of her father’s legacy. Her father had never had much to his name – but he’d raised Kovak under this roof, and she can feel his presence in every creaking board, every leaky window.

It’s just as well that Kovak has this little pocket of solitude, away from the social intricacies of the barony and the watchful eyes of the rest of the staff. The cottage is one of the few places that still feels like a sanctuary, despite its structural shortcomings. Kovak needs it – warm and cozy, cluttered yet tidy. The cottage is a place to let her mind relax – a place she doesn’t have to defend. This place defends her.

It’s raining outside, a chilly damp blanketing the atmosphere. A tin pot near the front door goes tink, tink, tink, as rain drips into it from a leak in the roof. Kovak tucks a piece of cut firewood into the iron stove keeping the place warm, straightening and wiping her hands on her thighs as she turns to peer at the bed in the corner. A smile tugs at the edges of her lips, a quiet appreciativeness settling over her features.

Ilspeth is tangled up in a blanket, glasses askew on her nose, a book propped open and flipped downward across her chest. Her hair is a thick halo around her head, fanned out against Kovak’s pillow like a peacock’s feathers, like Ilspeth had fallen from the sky as quickly and as thoughtlessly as a drop of rain. She’s fast asleep – mouth open, snoring, earning every second of rest.

This is a familiar dance, though one Kovak hasn’t yet gotten tired of. Her footsteps are light and quiet as she makes her way across the floor, expertly avoiding all the spots she knows will creak and risk waking the baroness. She slides the glasses from Ilspeth’s face, freezing momentarily as the half-elf sputters and sighs, shifting in her slumber. Kovak counts to five before pulling the book from Ilspeth’s relenting fingers, dog-earing the page before folding it shut and setting it aside.

Kovak settles herself on the bed next to Ilspeth, shoulders propped against the wall as she watches the baroness breathe. After a few moments, she can’t help herself – the fingers of her left hand deftly – if not idly – toy with the ends of Ilspeth’s hair, twisting end over end as Kovak ponders the almost cosmic enormity of her situation. How can it be that someone like Ilspeth would fall for anyone like Kovak? How can she sleep so peacefully – so soundly – in a leaky cottage, surrounded by old books and windowsills burnt by old candle wax? Surely a palace would be nicer with its sturdy walls and sealed rooftops.

But Ilspeth never fails to surprise Kovak – even now, even still. Pale green fingers weave their way into the ends of the baroness’ thick waves of hair, both idle and intentional in the same breath. The half-elf moves toward Kovak’s legs, snoring as she goes – it takes a great deal of Kovak’s self control to keep herself still, terrified she might wake her. At this point, however, Kovak ought to know better – the cottage might very well come down around them and Ilspeth would likely sleep through it.

Kovak slides herself down, slotting an arm beneath Ilspeth and pulling the half-elf up and against her chest with little effort. The baroness is a comforting weight against Kovak, her head nestled against Kovak’s shoulder. A stomach-turning fondness creeps through Kovak’s consciousness as she takes note of the way Ilspeth’s cheek smushes against the skin of Kovak’s shoulder. The bodyguard slides a hand into Ilspeth’s hair, rubbing gentle circles into her scalp.

#heart emoji <3 #love u ferne i hope this is okay...#kovak #ask prompt

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onwriting-hrarby · 1 year ago

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Engraved — Writing workshop week I

I needed to get off my novel for a while, so this exercise helped me a lot in imagining other things! It is quite long, but I don't think I have ever uploaded any og fiction inn here...

This is part of the Writing workshop by @books and @bettsfic!

Engraved

The wife later swore under oath it had been an impetuous reaction—lights on her face and the moustache man holding a clickety pen in front of her—but the truth is that she had seen it from the first instant she had entered the kitchen.

Her legs felt stiff and wobbly, that day. They carried her body like a strange weight, even though the scale had shown her that she needed to eat more. All bones, all bones, her man had sighed while lunch, gnawing at his steak. She would later think that the effort in which she walked was telling her that she should have stayed quiet. To never enter the kitchen. Never lay her eyes next to the stove. Never begin cooking. Never saying to her husband that she would begin cooking. Never hearing him exclaim, Finally, for fuck’s sake. Never thinking she was not a worthy woman, never feeling so angry, so ready to burst up, so—never never. But she did carry herself to the room, and her eyes did focus next to the stove, where it had been years she hadn’t seen it, the cutting knife her mother had gifted her on her wedding day.

It came along with a lot of fine china. They had shoved them away in the living room, where they couldn’t be seen and wouldn’t get dirt on them. She had said to her husband, “What a pity, those are very expensive”. He had hummed, had kept on putting thin ceramic plates and golden-rimmed teacups into the wooden cabinets, and had barely thrown her a glance as she inwardly apologized for the ingratitude. When she found the knife in the box and took it in her hands, it weighed. She felt it into her fingers for some seconds. The steel was cold and polished. It reflected the orange light of the living room, the way the snow was pouring outside, and shone in a myriad of decisions not taken and secrets better kept. The wife faintly heard his husband say, That will come out handy. She had glanced at him, held the knife sturdier against her palm.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a fine blade”, he had answered. “It will cut meat just great.”

But the knife had been left unused for almost all of the marriage, stuffed into the utensils drawer just like any other knife. Upon inspection the day of the china, she had found her initials engraved: M. A. The lettering was beautiful, adorning one of the tangs of the handler. The M was curvy, the ends pointy in riveting ribbons, and the A had a full stomach, protruding to the interior part. Years later, the wife realized the knife hadn’t lost the scale, nor the sharpness of the blade, but the letters had mysteriously given up their fullness and were starting to fade onto the metal.

Nevertheless, the knife was there after so long, so she thought, I better use it. She couldn’t imagine why her husband must have taken it out of the drawer and left it next to the stove. He had long given up seeing her cut with it, although it was true that no knife she had tried quite cut the meat like he wanted to. Always too thin, or too thick, or it couldn’t get through the veins, maybe couldn’t tear into the grease well enough.

She took the filet for supper out of the fridge. It had defrosted well, but some icy tears were still stuck to it. She brushed them off with her hand and they melted on her fingers. She brought her fingers inside the mouth and sucked. It tasted like watery iron. She put the meat on the cutting board, grabbed the engraved knife made an incision in the middle. He would complain that they had the same amount of meat. But then again, she could say, Wasn’t I all bones? As she cut the meat, the knife boiled in her hand. Strange, she thought. She felt a rush of dizziness overcome her, and as she closed her eyes, she could hear her mom’s voice—no, a scream, so loud she had to brace herself onto the marble counter, the knife hanging from her fingers nimbly.

She recomposed herself. The cut was perfect, though. She thought, a momentary anaemia. She was old after all, too many memories and too many years on her back.

The pan sizzled with some oil. It splattered all over the knife she still had in her hand. I can’t let go, she realized. Maybe I don’t want to. Her mom had died in a painful scream, her father had confessed. She had looked at him through the plastic glass and saw his eyes full of grief and guilt, and swore to herself not to be consumed by rage. “Some things run in one’s blood”, her dad had chuckled, “even though you hate me so”.

On the pan, the meat smelled like burnt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck it”. She swore some more and then swore to herself she could never swear again. Her husband didn’t like it, and wasn’t she such a proper lady?

She left the knife next to the stove and took the pan off the fire, but the meat was far off saving. The wife sighed, felt the tears coming to her eyes. They wet the rim of her eyelashes. She patted her free hand against them. She breathed out, invoked patience. He could hear him say, It’s not raw enough. I want to see the blood, see? I want to see it, for fuck’s sake. If it’s not raw, then—It tastes like a shoe! Have you ever tasted a shoe?, and she would say, no, I’ve never, and he would put the filet away, or maybe smash it against the wall, and the dish would crack, yes, she could evoke it because it had happened before, and the husband would say, You’re such of no use, why did I marry someone that useless, yes, you, I’m taking about you.

She heard the steps approaching the kitchen. Light as ever, but threatening. She knew the sound because she had to train herself to listen to it all of her life. He appeared on the door frame, watching at her with his mouth open in surprise, the canines hanging pointily, the tongue layered with yellow saliva onto it. His spit reached her face as he screamed:

“What the hell have you done?!”

And because she had seen it in the first instant she had entered the kitchen, the knife rested on her hand, with a weight of something unconfessed and the pride of something long foreseeable.

#tumblr writing workshop with betts #show don't tell #i don't think i did it right or i don't if i followed the prompt but #just the fact i wrote it ready to share it feels like a big step #so i'm sharing it anyways #writing #creative writing #writeblr #writing community #writing exercise #writerscommunity #writer problems #aspiring author #writers of tumblr #writing life #hrarbywritingdiaries

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ere-the-sun-rises · 9 months ago

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On the toolkit thing, here's some more pointers:

Dollar stores have tools, usually of decent quality too

Get an all-in-one screwdriver if you can find one

Get robertson head screws (square hole) in 1 1/2" and 2" - robertson screws are easier to install and remove than flat or philips (star/cross) heads and the screwdriver itself doesn't strip as quickly

Electrical tape - not only for cords, but for plumbing and other non-permanent/non-damaging items

Polyfilla and a putty knife can fill almost any hole in drywall and don't require any sanding to make even if you're careful

Caulking fills gaps really well, and bathroom caulking is also water and mold resistant

Spray foam is a cheap and effective insulator for gaps in the walls (just be careful bc that shit is hard to get off)

An adjustable wrench and adjustable pliers (specifically vice-grip curved jaw locking pliers) can solve nearly any issue

Toothpicks and wood glue effectively fill too-loose holes in cabinets. Pack toothpicks dipped in wood glue tightly into a hole, let it set for 24 hours, then come back and cut the excess away with a chisel or boxcutter. You will now be able to re-screw your cabinet door on.

Wood glue can fix most wooden furniture, but may need to be clamped/strapped in position (the tighter the pressure, the closer it will bind)

Pipe cement can stop leaks in outflow pipes (so long as it's allowed to cure)

Other unrelated tips:

NEVER fuck with your electricity. ALWAYS pay for that to be fixed professionally. Same with gas lines.

Plumbing can be fucked with, but don't try to replace whole sections of pipe without knowing what you're doing.

Rugs are superior to carpet. A lot of them (especially mats and runners designed for bathrooms) can be run through a washing machine. They are also easier to replace.

Windex and vim can clean basically everything in your house

Replace your furnace filters regularly (at least once a month if you have animals)

If your windows are drafty/cold in winter, there are plastic sheet kits in hardware stores to seal them up.

Linoleum is a (relatively) cheap and easy-to-usr flooring material that can cover hideous tile or splintering wood.

Cheap glassware is superior to plastic. It doesn't deform or stain and is microwave safe (sometimes even oven safe).

Make sure you know what runs on what electrical breaker

If more than one thing is powered by the breakers that control your furnace or electric stove, get that fixed IMMEDIATELY

Use soft white or yellow coloured light bulbs in rooms you just hang out in (like living rooms/bedrooms) and clear/bright white for utility rooms (bathroom/laundry/furnace rooms/kitchen). It reduces strain on your eyes.

Humans need greenery for our mental health. Put a little plant in each room.

If you're strapped for cash or time, don't buy anything in white. Opt for coloured clothes/sheets/furniture/paint bc it's way easier to maintain and hides dirt better

Mattresses need to be off the floor so they don't grow mold and can regulate your temperature better

Invest in good pillows you can machine wash.

Frozen and canned vegetables are just as good as fresh ones

Cooking roasts from frozen keeps the moisture in better than letting it thaw

You can do a lot with garlic plus and margarine

Real wooden furniture - even second-hand - is always superior to particle board furniture. It lasts much longer, is easier to repair and can be refinished if necessary.

Thick-bottomed stainless steel pots will last you a lifetime - if you have the money for a set, they're well worth it.

Dollar stores have glasses, utensils and poreclain dishware. If you're in a pinch, they're good and sturdy.

If you have a yard, invest in a mitre saw (for tree branches), an iron/steel spade, a metal rake and a metal snow shovel (if necessary) - all with wooden shafts. Plastic gets brittle through the cold. Also, a good bucket never goes awry.

Shop vacs can vacuum up water and medium-sized debris if the filter is removed.

For sandpaper, the lower the number, the more aggressive the grit is. Higher numbers produce finer sands.

things i wish i had known when i escaped my family household and couldn't ask my parents for help

invest in a good mattress early on. there are many other ends you can save on - sleep is not one of them. this is key to how much energy you'll have throughout the day

you don't need a bedframe but you do need a slatted bed base (even if it's just pallets)

opening a bank account is easy

there's youtube tutorials for everything. how to install your washing machine, how to use tools, fixing stuff around the place. channels like dad, how do i? are a godsend

change energy provider as soon as your old deal runs out. you'll get better offers elsewhere and avoid price gouging

assemble a basic first aid kid at home: painkillers, probiotics, alcohol wipes, bandages, tweezers, antihistamine tablets - anything you might need in a pinch

and an emergency toolkit: flashlight, extra batteries, a utility knife, an adjustable wrench, multi-tool, duct tape

set your fridge to the lowest temperature it can go. the energy consumption is minimal in difference and it'll give you +4/7 days on most foods

off-brand products are almost always the same in quality and taste, if not better, for half the price

coupons will save you a lot of money in the long run

there's no reason to be shy around employees at the bank/laundromat/store; most people will be happy to help

vegetarian diets are generally cheap if you make food from scratch

breakfast is as important as they say

keep track of your budget in a notebook or excel file - e.g. rent, phone and internet bills, food, leisure so you'll have an overlook on your spending over the months

don't gamble

piracy is okay

stealing from big stores and chains is also ethically okay

keep medical bills and pharmacy receipts for tax returns

also, file your tax returns early

take up a hobby that isn't in front of a screen. pottery, music, going for a run every now and then, stuff that'll keep you busy and sane

and most importantly... you're allowed to get the stuff you want. treat yourself to the occasional mundane thing. a good scented candle. a bath bomb. that body lotion that makes you feel like royalty. the good coffee beans.

you're free and you deserve to be happy.

38K notes · View notes

sunshinehomess · 3 months ago

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Why Do You Invest In Furnished Apartment Rental For Your Short Term Staying

Are you traveling to Benalmadena often for business or leisure trips? However, business & leisure trips can be costly due to costly accommodations. It is why long-term business trips or holidays are expensive as you are in the town for weeks or months. In such a situation, taking the help of an apartment rental service in Benalmadena makes perfect sense.

From the pricing of apartments in Benalmadena to the range of amenities they offer, these factors will significantly impact your overall experience. Are you looking for furnished apartment rentals in Benalmadena for long-term or short-term stays? Sunshine homes can help get the apartment for your needs. Rest assured that you get the same enjoyable home ambiance on your holiday or business trip while staying away from your ome. Here are a few reasons why you should invest in apartment rentals in Benalmadena:

Cost Effective –

The hotel bills in Benalmadena can add up faster. You are not likely to receive a price cut on a hotel while staying there night after night. Therefore, consider booking a corporate apartment rental for a week or month. This way, you will take advantage of its state-of-the-art amenities. The apartments in Benalmadena can be a lot more affordable if get through a reliable property management company like Sunshinehomes.

Quality Furniture –

You’re going to use better furniture in apartment rentals in Benalmadena than in a hotel. However, those apartments are available in full-furnished condition. They have furniture like a fully-equipped kitchen, sofa, chair, iron and iron board, washer or dryer, etc. ensuring your comfort and convenience. However, you can make yourself comfortable on a couch, enjoy your dinner at a dining room table, and get the work done at a desk.

Home-Like Feeling –

Hotels are quite small in size. Even if you book a suite or a deluxe room, they can still seem very small. When you’re staying weeks or months in the same space, you should have a place that feels more like a home. With furnished apartment rentals in Benalmadena, your short-term and long-term needs are fulfilled. You’ll have all the space you need.

Fully-Equipped Kitchen –

Eating out on business or holiday trips can add up – not to mention that it can be unhygienic. If you’re tired of eating out every time you’re on a long-term business trip, you should look for an alternative option. Moreover, apartment rentals in Benalmadena are available with fully-equipped kitchens. You can use the microwave, stove, fridge, and oven to store and cook your food at your convenience as per your preferences. This will save you more on your business or holiday trip in Benalmadena.

Flexible Terms –

The apartment rentals in Benalmadena can facilitate both short-term and long-term accommodation needs. It means there’s no minimum stay requirement.

All-Inclusive Amenities –

Your time is valuable when it comes to business or holiday trips. That’s why when you stay in apartment rentals. You can expect that all of your needs are taken care of up-front. For instance, your bills will be paid and you’ll be provided with 24/7 Wi-Fi internet connectivity, free parking, etc.

Conclusion –

When you look for furnished apartment rentals in Benalmadena, you should turn to Sunshinehomes! For all of your short-term and long-term housing needs, feel free to request a quote today!

Know more about our affordable and quality products stay social with us on: Facebook & Instagram

#apartment rentals Benalmadena #apartment rentals in Benalmadena

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labibareit · 6 months ago

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When it comes to finding the perfect place to stay, whether for a short vacation or an extended business trip, comfort and convenience are paramount. Our 2-bedroom service apartments offer an ideal blend of both, making your stay memorable and stress-free. Here’s why choosing our fully furnished, well-equipped apartments will be the best decision you make.

Fully Furnished for Ultimate Comfort

Walk into our service apartments, and you’ll immediately feel at home. Each apartment is thoughtfully furnished with comfortable sofas, stylish decor, and all the essential furniture you need. The living room is a perfect place to unwind after a busy day, complete with a flat-screen TV for your entertainment.

The bedrooms are cozy sanctuaries, featuring plush beds with high-quality linens to ensure a good night's sleep. Ample storage space is provided with wardrobes and drawers, so you can unpack and settle in without hassle. Whether you're staying for a few nights or a few months, our apartments are designed to make you feel at ease.

Comprehensive Amenities to Meet Your Needs

We understand that the little things make a big difference. That's why our service apartments come equipped with a range of household necessities:

High-Speed WiFi: Stay connected with our reliable and fast internet service, perfect for both work and leisure.

Washing Machine: Enjoy the convenience of in-apartment laundry facilities. No need to search for a laundromat or pay extra for laundry services.

Fully Equipped Kitchen: Cook your favorite meals with ease in our modern kitchens. Each kitchen includes a refrigerator, microwave, stove, and all the cookware and utensils you might need.

Household Essentials: From ironing boards to hairdryers, we provide all the small yet important items to make your stay seamless.

Professional Cleaning Services

Maintaining cleanliness and hygiene is a top priority for us. Our professional cleaning services ensure that your apartment is spotless and comfortable at all times. Regular cleaning schedules are arranged to suit your preferences, allowing you to enjoy a clean and fresh living space without lifting a finger.

Ideal for Any Stay

Our 2-bedroom service apartments are perfect for a variety of guests:

Business Travelers: With dedicated workspaces and high-speed WiFi, our apartments are ideal for professionals who need a comfortable place to work and relax.

Families: The spacious layout and full range of amenities make our apartments perfect for families needing extra room and convenience.

Vacationers: Enjoy the luxury of a fully furnished apartment with all the comforts of home while exploring a new city.

Prime Locations

Our service apartments are located in prime areas, offering easy access to local attractions, business districts, and transportation hubs. Whether you’re here for work or leisure, you’ll find everything you need just a short distance away.

Experience the Difference

Staying in our 2-bedroom service apartments offers more than just a place to sleep; it provides a home away from home. With our fully furnished apartments, comprehensive amenities, and professional cleaning services, you can enjoy a hassle-free and comfortable stay. Book your stay with us today and experience the difference that our service apartments can make.

For more information or to make a reservation, contact us at [your contact information]. We look forward to welcoming you to your new home away from home.

#rwby #poster

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nofacedpoet · 1 year ago

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AWWT | Ch. 13: Friends with a Mission

Friends with a Mission

(Pt.1):

It had been twelve hours now that Valentine banged on the familiar black metal door but as usual it was empty on the other side. The small three by three room was pitch black other than a small pinch of light that escaped from underneath the door. She collapsed to her knees as she gave one last weak knock on the door. Her bruised and bleeding hands slowly dropped down to her sides. “No one’s coming,” she whispered as she laid her forehead on the door and stared into a small carved smiley face. “At least I have you—”

The sound of heavy boots stomped into the wooden floor on the other side. She gasped and moved her head back from the door. The steps became heavier as they inched closer and closer until they halted directly in front of the door. Valentine crawled back until she was against the wall behind her and stared into the two shadows beneath the door. The rusty door knob screeched as it slowly turned and the door opened to a crack. A thin strip of light slit vertically across her right eye. She began to hyperventilate and tremble.

“Why do you make me do this?” A deep and angry voice grunted from the other side of the door. “Why can’t you just listen to me?”

“No,” Valentine covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “Not again.”

The door slammed wide open and a towering 6’5” shadow with dark green eyes of the devil stared down at her. She knew what was awaiting on the side of her closed eyes, and though she tried not to look, her eyes were forced open. She glanced up at the monster with its familiar face. It leaned down to grab at her and she attempted to kick it away. “No! Stop!”

It caught one of her legs by the ankle and violently dragged her out of the room. “You never listen,” it said. “Maybe after this, you will.”

She noticed smoke coming from the stove and knew what was going to happen. “No!” she flipped onto her stomach and scratched at the floor boards. Her nails began to bleed as they bent back. “Please! Don’t!”

“You need a lesson,” the shadow dragged her even faster and splinters from the floorboards jabbed into stomach and arms. They reached the corner of the room near the stove and the shadow pinned Valentine down on her stomach against the floor as it reached for a hot iron rod.

Valentine’s eyes widened with fear. “No! Stop it!” She tried to break from its grip but the shadow’s strength was too overpowering. It shoved the rod into her back and she screamed of pain and agony as her skin sizzled against the hot rod.

Then she opened her eyes to see Ava staring back at her with wide eyes. The way the light hit Ava’s face from the window looked incredibly haunting. It took a few seconds as Valentine tried to focus her eyes to realize that it was her.

“You’re having another nightmare,” Ava’s said in a soft voice as she lightly tugged on Valentine’s sleeve. “It’s alright. It’s just me.” Valentine blinked a few times and glanced at Ava with an odd expression. It looked like Ava had been crying but it was hard to tell for sure in the dark. Valentine slowly sat up and rubbed her eyes. She glanced around for a moment as if she wasn’t sure where exactly she was. Then she slowly reached inside of her short sleeve to feel the scar that laid on the back of her shoulder. There was a strike of lightning that lit up the room for a second. Then the of sound of the rain that slammed against the window finally came to Valentine’s ears. Her eyes slowly began to adjust to the darkness and find focus again.

Ava moved her head forward to where she could see Valentine’s face. “Was it a bad one again?”

Valentine dropped her hand from her shoulder and stared ahead at the painting on the wall. She couldn’t remember much about the nightmare but the terrible feeling still lingered within her.

“I know you hate when I say this but…you should really tell Dr. Yeager about—”

“Stop it,” Valentine ordered.

“At least tell ma and pa. They may be able to help—”

“I’ll fucking kill you if you ever mention this to anyone.”

Ava sighed. She hated feeling so helpless but more so seeing Valentine in such distress.

“Go back to bed, Ava. It’s not a big deal.” Valentine fell back and slammed her head against the pillow. Ava laid on her side and stared at Valentine with a worried expression. The drops that trickled down on the glass window appeared on Valentine’s face and made it seem like she was crying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ava’s voice trembled.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Valentine said in an aggressive tone as she turned around to where her back faced Ava.

“Okay,” Ava whispered as her eyes watered.

Later that morning…

Ava slowly opened her blurry eyes to see Valentine sitting up and staring directly at her with a worried expression. Valentine quickly moved her gaze away. Ava opened her eyes all the way and noticed that Valentine looked like she didn’t get much sleep at all. The purple and green shadows underneath her eyes were much darker than usual too.

Ava sat up and glanced at her as she rubbed her left eye. “Did you ever go back to sleep?”

“Yeah.” Valentine sounded so exhausted. “I was thinking…” Ava waited patiently. “Maybe you should move your bed back to the other side of the room.”

Ava’s eyes widened and her chest tightened. They had always slept together, never apart. When Valentine first moved in, they both slept in Ava’s bed. When Valentine got her own bed, they moved both of the beds together to create one giant one.

“Uh—” Ava’s voice cracked a bit. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Valentine turned to where Ava couldn’t see her face. “Just a thought.”

Ava glanced down at her hands that became incredibly sweaty. “Well I like sleeping with you,” she said in a soft tone. Valentine stayed silent. “Is this because of your nightmares?”

“No.”

“Because it doesn’t bother me—”

“That’s not what it’s about.”

“Then what is it?”

Valentine sighed and crossed her arms.

Ava glanced at her. “I don’t want to sleep alone—”

“Okay fine! Forget it then.”

Ava gently placed her hand on Valentine’s shoulder. “Come on. I’ll make us some breakfast.” She jumped out of the bed and headed out the room. “Those pancakes you like with the blueberries in the center and…” her voice trailed off as she disappeared down the hall.

Ava spent the day being productive as always. Reading, studying, painting, helping Mila. Valentine spent the entire day pacing back and forth in the room as she tried to come up with a plan to sneak a beer.

Ava walked into the room and screamed with her hands up, “Guess what!?”

“What.” Valentine continued to pace and stare at the floor.

“So, ma and pa said for my eleventh birthday next week, they’ll take us into the city!”

“Oh.”

“Do you know what this means?”

“We’re going into the city.”

Ava giggled. “It means we finally get to see the walls!”

Valentine halted and glanced at Ava. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was wearing. She didn’t know what shocked her more, the news or that shirt.

“Why…are you wearing that?” Valentine looked insulted.

Ava wore Valentine’s green oversized flannel that she wore the first time they ever met. Except it was much older and faded now.

“Oh”—Ava glanced down like she forgot—“It’s comfy. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Her cheeks began to blush. “I can change out of it if you want.”

Valentine moved her gaze to the floor again and shook her head. “Let’s talk about the mission.”

(Pt.2):

The plan was simple. They would each pack a backpack of items that they needed for their exploration over the walls and once they landed in the city they would cross beyond the walls and head for the world. Valentine’s bag consisted of journals, so she could write everything she saw and create maps for others, pens and pencils, a canteen of water, binoculars, a couple of knives, a smaller bow that she could collapse, arrows, her favorite Space candy bar, and lastly, one change of clothes. Ava’s backpack consisted of chocolate bars, chips, gummies, two bottles of water, a bottle of juice, one beer for Valentine that she planned to surprise her with once they made it outside of the walls, a hair brush, papers, brushes, and paint so she could paint everything they saw, a whistle just in case she lost Valentine, and three pairs of clothes. Oh, and her favorite teddy bear.

“Jeez, how much shit are you taking?” Valentine asked as she glanced down at Ava who was shoving the last piece of clothing into her bulky backpack.

“I need all of this.”

Valentine rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m kind of sad”—Ava struggled to force the zipper to close—“we won’t see Ma or Pa ever again.”

“You know, you don’t have to come with me.”

“Yeah, I know. But I want to see the world with you.”

“Girls?” Mila said from the other side of the door.

They both glanced at one another.

“Hurry it up,” Valentine kneeled down to help Ava. They got the zipper to close and quickly stood.

“Yeah?” Ava answered.

Mila opened the door. “Are you two about—” she noticed the bags on their backs and gave a peculiar expression. “Ready?”

Neither Ava or Valentine had ever been in the city before. All they knew was what Mannie mentioned since he was the one who usually visited once a month to collect food and supplies. Ava jittered with excitement as they made their way to the city by carriage. Valentine on the other hand sat calmly in place with a straight face fully concentrated on the mission.

“Now girls,” Mila said as they were almost there. “Dr. Yeager mentioned that his son Eren is in need of some friends. We’ll be meeting with him and Dr. Yeager so be sure to be nice.” Valentine smacked her lips. “Neither of you have ever dealt with others before, little yet, children your own age. You’ll need to learn some social skills. Especially since you’ll be choosing your career in only five years.” The wagon came to a halt. “Oh”—Mila clapped her hands together—“we’ve arrived.” Ava grabbed onto Valentine’s shoulder and jerked her around.

“Stop,” Valentine said annoyed as she pulled away.

“Alright girls. Let’s go.” Mila and Mannie stepped out of the carriage and Valentine and Ava followed. As they moved their gaze up to the unfamiliar world, their eyes widened and their jaws dropped.

There were hundreds of different tables and stations lined all the way down the road with fish, deer, pork, other meats, pies, cakes, candy, and anything else one may need. There were also shops filled with colorful clothing and shiny jewelry. The place was incredibly crowded with loads of people and horses that surrounded the shops and tables. There was a light atmosphere of laughter and friendly conversations. And all the way down at the very end of this long road was a massive 50-meter wall that stood straight up.

“This…is the city?” Ava said.

“Those…are the walls?” Valentine said.

“C’mon!” Ava grabbed her hand and took off.

“Uh-girls! Stay close!” Mannie said. “Do you think they’ll be okay, should we follow—”

“Mannie,” Mila laughed. “They’re fine.”

Valentine glanced up at the massive wall that was only a few yards away and noticed the sun peaking from the edge of the top. Finally. I can complete my mission—

“Hey,” a tall soldier in a brown uniform walked up and blocked her view. His cheeks were flushed and he reeked of alcohol. “The hell d'you kids think you’re doing this close to the wall?” he slurred.

Jeez, is this what I used to smell like? Valentine thought as she made a gross expression and waved her hand out in front of her. The soldier lifted an eye brow and glared at her.

“Open the gates. I’m going out there,” Valentine clasped her hands around the straps of her backpack.

“Ha!” The soldier glanced back at other soldiers who were playing cards at a table. “Ya’ll hear that? She’s going out there!” The soldiers laughed.

Valentine glared at him. “Listen pipsqueak,” she took a step towards him. Ava gasped and covered her mouth.

“Huh?” Soldiers glanced up from the table.

“I’m going out there and no one’s stopping me. You got that? Now open the damn gate!” Valentine was yelling now.

The soldier was stunned for a moment. Then anger filled his face. “Who the hell does this kid think—”

Valentine yanked the bottle of liquor from his hand. His eyes widened in shock. Ava gasped.

“Open the gates and you get your bottle back you big fucking baby!”

“You little rat!” He took a step towards her as if to do something. Valentine stared straight into his eyes completely unbothered.

A hand squeezed the soldier’s shoulder and slightly pulled him back. “Stand down, soldier,” a second soldier said as he made his way beside him. He also carried flushed cheeks but wasn’t slurring as bad. “Now what’s going on?”

“Sergeant Hannes,” the soldier’s tone completely changed as he straightened up. “This little brat here wants the gates open. And she also took my—” there was a loud gulping sound. “Eh?” They both looked to see Valentine taking huge gulps from the bottle.

“Uhh—” Hannes was shocked.

Valentine wiped the corner of her mouth. “This is the cheap shit anyway.” She tossed the bottle to the side and it shattered onto the pavement.

The soldier’s left eye began to twitch and Hannes pulled him back even further. “I’ll handle this. Go keep watch with the others.”

“I can’t believe…” the soldier mumbled as he stomped off.

Hannes put his hands on his waist and glanced at Valentine. “Now why would you want to go out there? Do you know what awaits you?”

“I have a mission.”

Hannes smiled and shook his head. “Well there are titans—”

“I know. I’m prepared.”

“Eh?” He glanced down at the gold knife she pulled from her pocket. He shook his head again. “Sheesh, kid. You really have no idea.” He put a single hand over his face. “You sound just like this other kid I know. He’s just as crazy—”

“Hey stop him!” A man shouted. Everyone glanced over. A kid was being chased by an older oversized man that wore a ridiculous bakers hat.

“Speak of the devil,” Hannes crossed his arms. “What now?”

“Move it!” The kid shoved two soldiers out of the way and ran between them. He was carrying a loaf of bread.

“Hey-hey!” A soldier grabbed him by the back of the collar and lifted him from the ground. “What ya got there?”

“He stole a loaf from my shop! Punish the bastard!” the baker ordered through his heavy breath as he stomped over.

The kid grasped the loaf between his arms. “He’s lying! Armin already paid for this and he’s trying to cheat him!”

The soldier glanced at the baker.

“No! The kid spits nonsense!” The baker coughed a few times as he struggled to catch his breath. “Punish him!”

The soldier moved his gaze back to the kid.

“Let me go, damn it!” The kid kicked his legs around.

“Can you prove it’s paid for?” The soldier asked.

“Well,” the kid stopped kicking. “Not really-but I swear! It’s paid for! Armin doesn’t have anymore change to give. This is his food for the week and I’ll be damned if I let some fat cow take it from him because he’s too much of a greedy pig!”

The soldiers bursted out laughing. Ava and Valentine glanced at one another. The baker grunted as he tightened his fists.

“Sheesh, kid. The mouth on ya,” Hannes sighed.

“Drop him,” Valentine ordered. The kid turned and noticed her for the first time.

“Eh?” The soldiers glanced over at her.

“Now.”

“Ha! We got another lively one y’all,” the soldier laughed. The boy kicked his legs around to try to break his grip.

“You heard him. It’s paid for,” she glared at the baker. “So let him go.”

“Ha!” The soldier laughed. “Or what?”

Valentine walked up closer to him and stared him in the eye. He glanced down at her with an unserious expression.

“Do you really want to find out?” Her tone shifted into a much darker one. Ava covered her eyes with her hands.

The soldier smirked. “What the hell are you going to do—” Valentine kicked him in the balls and his grip broke from the kid as he fell to his knees. He grunted as he leaned over as if to throw up. Everyone stared in shock.

“Uh-get her! Get them!” A soldier screamed as he started running towards her. Valentine and the boy glanced at one another.

“Go!” the boy screamed as he took off. Valentine and Ava followed behind him.

“Don’t let them get away!” A soldier yelled.

The kid turned around and laughed at the soldiers that chased them. Valentine couldn’t help but laugh too. They ran until they couldn’t see the soldiers anymore and crossed a bridge that reached over a river. They leaned against the side of a building as they tried to catch their breath.

“Thanks,” the kid said through heavy breath.

“Sure,” Valentine said.

“Names Eren,” he said.

“Valentine.”

Ava shyly glanced up at the boy. “Ava,” she said in her usual soft tone. He glanced at her and she quickly looked away.

“Are you guys from around here?” Eren asked. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Ava and Valentine glanced at one another.

“No. Not really.” Valentine thought it was best to not be specific.

“Eren!” a voice called out. A kid with blonde hair was running towards them. His face looked terrified and worried.

“I got it, don’t worry!” Eren waved the bread. “My new friends helped me out!”

The blonde kid halted and hyperventilated as if he’d been running for miles. “Why did”—he tried to breathe—“you do that? I told you—”

“You can’t let them take advantage of you! You should stand up for yourself more often or they’ll just keep doing it!” Eren screamed as he shoved the loaf into his friends chest.

“It wasn’t worth the trouble,” his friend mumbled as he squeezed the loaf between his arms. He moved his gaze to Valentine and Ava. “Hi,” he said softly as he awkwardly waved his hand. “I’m Armin.”

“I’m Ava,” Ava smiled back.

“I’m Valentine.”

“Sorry if he got you two in any trouble.” He gave Eren a look.

“Those soldiers and that baker were the trouble,” Valentine said.

“Well thanks for helping out. I appreciate it”—Armin began to open the loaf—“I’ll give you guys a portion as a thanks—”

“No,” Valentine nodded. “It’s not a big deal.”

Armin’s face went pink. “A-are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“Yeah.”

He closed the bag of bread. “Alright then…I better get going. My parents are going to wonder what’s taking me so long. It was nice meeting you two.”

“You as well,” Ava gave a light bow with her head.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Eren asked.

“Eren,” Armin grunted. His cheeks went pink again. “I’ll be fine. I can walk myself.” He walked away angrily.

“There you are!” A voice said from behind Ava. They all turned to see Mila, Mannie, and Dr. Yeager walking up.

“Oh, I see you’ve already met Eren,” Dr. Yeager said. Valentine, Ava, and Eren exchanged glances.

“Dr. Yeager invited us over for dinner,” Mannie smiled. “C’mon.”

Eren gave Valentine a tour of his house after dinner, not that she asked, and afterwords they settled in his room. Ava didn’t seem that interested and chose to sit at the table with the adults as they engaged in their usual boring conversations.

Eren sat criss-crossed on his bed with his manga collections spread out. “This one”—he handed Valentine a manga—“is one of my favorites. Deals with a lot of titan slaying and world exploration.”

Valentine studied the titans on the cover. She tried to pronounce the title somewhat underneath her breath. “A w-wor-world with ti-tit-titans.” She glanced up and noticed Eren staring with wide eyes. “I can’t um”—she glanced away embarrassed—“read very well."

“Well you got it right. It’s a world with titans.” Eren smiled. She slightly glanced towards him. “You can borrow it if you want! And tell me what you think of it after. Just promise to bring it back or I’ll hunt your ass down.”

“Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly. “It’s your favorite.”

“Yeah,” Eren shrugged.

She opened the first page to see writing that read,

To my bestest friend in the whole wide world, Eren. Happy Birthday! Ps. I hope one day we can have adventures together like this one. It reminded me of all the stories we tell each other. Maybe we could even write our own? Pss. I already read it before giving it to you of course. Sorry I couldn’t wait. Tell me before you reach panel 30!

(Heart) Armin.

She flipped through the pages until it reached nearly half way where a small piece of wrinkly paper laid. It slipped through the crease and landed on her lap. She grabbed it and began to open it when Eren snatched it from her. She glanced up at him with a peculiar expression.

He looked incredibly nervous all of a sudden. His cheeks quickly flushed. “It’s just a note. I forgot it was in there,” he said quickly before squeezing it into a tight fist as if Valentine was going to fight him for it.

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid but,” he glanced away. “Me and Armin would take turns with the manga and leave notes for each other. Just talking about certain panels or what our favorite parts were. It’s lame, I know.”

“No, it’s not. I think that’s kind of cool.”

He glanced back up at her with a warm smile. “That’s his favorite panel. That’s why I had it there but just forgot.”

Valentine glanced down at the page. There was a massive body of water that reached as far as the horizon. Next to it was a small scribble of writing that read, the sea???

“It’s really similar to Armin’s book-uh,” he hesitated. Valentine glanced up at him. “Never mind,” he said nervously.

She moved her gaze back down to the page. “I’m surprised you even have something like this”—she flipped back to the first page—“I thought it was forbidden to—”

“Oh it is. So make sure no one sees you with it. Or you’ll probably be killed.” He gave a big smirk as if it was funny but she could tell he was slightly nervous. A flash went through her mind of Marxi’s lifeless body being bagged up by the MPs. Then she realized that she was staring straight into Eren’s eyes with a serious expression. He looked confused.

She shook her head and glanced down. “How did you or Armin managed to get it?”

“It’s actually a crazy story. When we heard the news that the author planned to release the manga even though there was a lot of controversy around the story, we tried to save up as much money as possible to get our hands on one before they were banned from the shelves. But by the time we had enough, they were already ordered off by the MPs. Then a year later, Armin was passing near a yard sale and happened to see this one sticking out of a box of books. He was lucky to even get a deal from the old lady but she didn’t seem to realize what it was I guess. Then he gave it to me.”

“This author was either really brave or bat shit crazy for releasing something like this. Especially with the paranoia and laws surrounding the topic.”

“Yeah. A lot of conspiracies arose that it was all propaganda to brainwash everyone into these make-believe ideas regarding the world beyond the walls. He nearly started a revolution within the walls actually. Too bad he was arrested shortly after his manga release and sent to lock up. They said he died of an incident but we all know what really happened.” Eren sighed. “He’ll never get to finish the story and we’ll never know what happens. But at least we have a piece of his story to live on in our world and give us hope.”

Valentine closed the manga and placed her hand on the cover. “The world beyond the walls huh?” she whispered.

Eren glanced toward the bedroom door then moved his gaze back to Valentine. He leaned in and said in almost a whisper, “do you know much about the world outside the walls?”

“Well not really but—”

“Shh! Not so loud,” Eren glanced toward the door again.

Valentine sighed and rolled her eyes. She leaned in and whispered, “that was mine and Ava’s mission today but those damn soldiers wouldn’t let us leave.”

Eren jerked his head back as he gasped. “What?!”

“Shh!”

“You guys were planning on going outside the walls today?”

“Yeah. I mean, that’s what all this shit is for,” she grabbed her backpack and unzipped it then dumped everything out onto his bed.

His eyes widened even more. “Me and Armin also want to go outside the walls.” There was a shine in his eye now.

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Well we have a mission.”

“So do we!”

“Should we like combine—”

“Our missions and—”

“Go together?”

“Yes!” They said at the same time.

“Alright Val,” Mannie and Mila walked in. “It’s time to head back. It’s getting late.”

Valentine and Eren glanced at one another.

“Glad to see you’re getting along,” Mrs. Yeager smiled. Ava made her way between Mila and Mannie and gave Eren a slight glare. Valentine noticed and gave a peculiar expression.

“When will you be back?” Eren asked with a sad tone.

“They can visit again in about a week,” Mila smiled.

Valentine and Eren they shared a slight grin. She hopped off his bed and he followed after and the others made their way out.

“Here,” he grabbed a manga cover from Death Note and placed it over the hard cover of the A World With Titans. “No one will ever know,” he handed it back to her.

She nodded and grabbed onto it with both of her hands. “I’ll take good care of it. Promise.”

Ava didn’t say one word on the way back. She didn’t even bother glancing at Valentine once. And when they arrived back home, it only got worse. Ava tossed her backpack across the room and it slammed against the wall before falling. She violently ripped her jacket off and chunked it across the room.

“The hell is your problem?”

“Nothing.” Ava leaped on the bed and sat on the edge with her legs dangling down.

Valentine sighed and rolled her eyes. “Spit it out already.”

“I don’t like that Eren kid.”

Valentine jerked her head back. They had just barely met him and Ava spent little to no time with him. “Why not?”

“I think he’s a bad influence on you. On us.”

“What?” Valentine was perplexed. She was far worse than Eren. And Ava had to have known that. She killed two men in front of her.

“All he’s going to do is get you in trouble. He’s bad news.” Ava shook her head as she waved her hand out.

“Well he’s going with us over the walls so you better get used to—”

“You told him about our mission?!” Now Ava was really pissed. Her face went red and filled with a rage that Valentine had never witnessed before. She had no idea this even existed within her.

“Yeah. So what?

Ava crossed her arms and scowled. “So that’s our thing! Not his!”

“Him and Armin have had their own thing. We’re just combining—”

“Then I’m not going.” Ava turned and stared at the wall. There was a long pause of silence.

“Then I guess we’re finally parting,” Valentine mumbled.

“Finally?”

“Yeah. Finally.”

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too, bitch.”

“Don’t call me a bitch!” Ava jumped off the bed and stomped toward Valentine.

“Then stop acting like one, bitch!”

For the first time ever, Ava got in Valentine’s face. Even though she knew if they ever fought, she would lose. “I’ve never wanted to go over the walls in the first place! You forced me into this!”

“Bull shit!”

“You did!”

“How?!”

“If I don’t go with you, I won’t be with you!”

Valentine stared silently and somewhat confused.

“It’s the only way. You’ve tied my hands hostage!” Ava shoved her.

“Then stay, Ava! I don’t care if you go or not!” Valentine’s voice nearly broke before she finished the sentence. She shoved Ava back but not hard enough to have her fall over.

Ava’s eyes began to water. “Then fine. I’ll stay!” She shoved Valentine much harder this time. Enough to make her actually stumble back.

“Then fine. I’ll go with Eren and Armin!” Valentine shoved her, but again, not nearly as rough. She didn’t want to actually hurt her even though she knew she very much could.

“Fine!” Ava shoved her so hard that Valentine stumbled back and collided with the wall behind her. Ava nearly fell on top of her.

“Fine, bitch!” Valentine pushed her away and tried to get her footing but tripped instead and ended up pushing Ava way harder than she meant to. Ava stumbled back before crashing into the other wall and Valentine fell on top of her. The painting that Ava gave to Valentine slid down the wall before crashing right on top of their heads. Valentine moved off of Ava and the painting, now with a single large crack down the middle and broken in half, collapsed between them. Ava gasped as she stared down at it with shock. Valentine stood up and stepped back with a look of regret.

Ava grabbed the broken halves in her hands and tried to hold it together. Streams of tears trickled down her cheeks. “You ruined it!” She threw the painting to the side and stormed out of the room. Valentine silently stared down into the broken pieces. It wasn’t until this moment that she had realized it was Ava’s birthday and she didn’t even get her anything. That awful familiar feeling began to take over her again. Why didn’t I just leave?

(Pt.3):

That feeling began to spread through Valentine like a cancer. It got heavier as the week went on and began to take over every thought. It had been six days since the fight and they still hadn’t spoken to each other. In fact, they did everything they could to avoid each other. Ava even moved her bed across the room.

Valentine sat on the edge of her bed and she swung her legs back and forth. She stared across the room into a vase that sat on Ava’s desk. The water was filthy and the purple flowers were withered and leaned over the edge of the vase in desperation. They were kind of like Ava in a way. She had barely eaten this week and didn’t sleep much. She didn’t want to do anything either. She didn’t do any of her studies. She didn’t pick up one brush and paint anything. She didn’t go outside once.

That spark is withering away. I’m killing her. I’m taking away any happiness she has left. It’s better this way. I’m leaving.

There was a bag packed with a few clothes and items underneath the bed. Valentine thought of how she should tell Ava. Should she just leave without saying anything at all? Should she leave a note?

She clung onto the edge of the bed. C’mon. You’ve already made your decision. She watched as one of the leaves from the flowers broke off and slowly sunk to the bottom of the vase and drowned with the rest of the others. This dirty vase of dead flowers was starting to piss her off. “Agh!” She jumped off the bed and snatched the vase. She walked outside and chunked the water and flowers out. She cleaned the vase and replaced it with fresh water and purple flowers. She walked back into the room and paused. Ava was sitting on the edge of her own bed swinging her feet back and forth as she stared at the ground. She felt a stare and glanced back to see Valentine holding a vase of flowers.

Valentine made an awkward face. “I couldn’t pull them out of the ground with the full stem like the way you do.” She held up the vase. “So they’re kind of all a bit fucked up.” The stems were all broken and in different sizes.

This made Ava laugh. It was a real laugh. “I thought you hated those.”

“I do.”

Ava jumped off the bed and walked up to her. She stared into the flowers and sniffed. “They smell good though,” she looked at Valentine. And there it was. That flicker of a spark. It was just a glimpse but it was still there. “They’re called the passion flower.”

Valentine looked away. “Well they reek. Take ‘em already.” She shoved the vase toward Ava to where the flowers covered her face. Ava giggled and grabbed the vase from her. She went and placed them on the desk and readjusted them in the vase.

“I’m sorry,” Ava said in a soft tone as she turned around and faced her. “For being such a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch.”

“Well I kind of was that day.” She glanced down at her hands. “I still want to go with you. To the walls. If you’ll let me.” Valentine glanced to the side with a worried expression. Ava glanced up and noticed. “And you’re not forcing me. I want to do this. With you.”

Valentine moved her gaze back to her. “We don’t have to meet with them tomorrow. Or even go with them—”

“No, it’s fine. Really. I just overreacted. It’s just…” Ava’s face went pink. Valentine waited patiently for her to get the words out. “I just don’t want him…or anyone…” her voice seemed to get softer as she went on. “to take you away from me.”

Valentine’s eyes slightly widened and her expression softened. “Oh.” There was a long silence as neither really knew what to say next. “I thought maybe…you wanted me to leave,” Valentine said in a sad tone. It was unusual for Ava to see this side of her, little yet, for Valentine to ever talk about things like this.

Ava walked up to her and tugged on her sleeve. “I don’t want that.”

Valentine glanced at her with the most hurtful eyes. She looked like she didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?” she said in a broken tone. “I mean everyone leaves in the end anyway, so it’s really not a big deal.” She gave a broken laugh.

Ava tangled her fingers with hers. “I’m more than sure,” she whispered as she stared directly into her eyes with certainty. “I always want to be with you.” Valentine’s eyes widened and Ava sensed maybe she said too much. “Oh-sorry. Was that weird? That’s was kind of weird to say.”

Valentine smirked with a light laugh. “Stop apologizing. And it’s fine.”

“Okay.” They stared at one another for a long moment. Then Ava quickly snatched Valentine in her arms and squeezed. She took in the moment as much as she could before Valentine would push her away. It lasted much longer than she thought it would. Then, she felt a gentle hand on the back of her head. She gasped as her eyes watered. She never wanted to move out of this place. She wanted to be here forever.

(Pt.4):

Valentine knocked on Eren’s door three times. Grisha, Eren’s father, opened the door. “Oh, hello girls. We were just making some tea! Come on in—”

Eren shoved him to the side as he made his way to the front of the doorway. He had a black eye and grinned as he noticed Valentine and Ava. He snatched the manga out of Valentine’s hands and took off. “C’mon, let’s go!” Valentine and Ava glanced at one another then followed after him.

“Uh—son,” Grisha peaked out of the door way. “Don’t—” he sighed.

Mila and Mannie chuckled. “Kids.”

After they collected Armin, Eren took them to their usual spot which was on the edge of the river bank. The sun shined a beautiful glow on the surface of the river that made it seem as if it full of tiny diamonds.

“What happened to your eye?” Valentine asked as they sat in a circle.

“I just got in a stupid fight. But they started it!” Eren said.

“The soldiers?!” Ava looked terrified.

“No, no. These stupid town bullies that are always messing with us. I gave them a real good lesson though.” He raised a tight fist.

“Who are they?” Valentine asked. “Let me have a go.”

Eren and Armin exchanged looks.

“Valentine can fight really good,” Ava said. “Not that she should go looking for one.” She gave her a look.

“One fight with me and they’ll never mess with you two again,” Valentine said.

“More like they’ll never breathe again,” Ava said.

Armin gave a nervous laugh as he squeezed onto a book that he had been carrying with him this entire time.

“What’s that?” Valentine pointed.

“Oh-uh. I have something to show you guys,” Armin glanced around like he was about to share some big secret. Little did they know, he was. He leaned in and whispered, “you guys have to promise that you aren’t going to tell anyone.”

Ava and Valentine glanced at one another.

“It’s breaking the law so you seriously have to keep it between us,” Eren added. Valentine looked excited while Ava looked nervous.

“Okay, promise.” Valentine said. Armin held out a pinkie. Valentine gave him a peculiar expression. “The hell is that?”

“It’s a pinky promise. You can’t break it or it’s bad luck on your life.”

“Jeez.” Valentine rolled her eyes.

“Sorry. I have to be careful.”

Valentine and Ava wrapped their pinkies around his and said at the same time, “promise.”

Armin glanced at Eren and nodded. “Okay,” he laid the book in the center. He took a deep breath and opened the first page. “This book shows what lays outside beyond the walls.” Ava and Valentine gasped. As he went through the pages, his eyes lit up like lights. They all shared the same expression of awe as he went on to show them lands made of ice, fiery water, and everything else magical that they had never witnessed inside of the walls. They finally reached the page of the gigantic body of water called the sea.

“Look!” Eren slammed the manga down on panel 30 that showed a similar sketch of the sea. “How is it so identical to a real historical book? Makes you wonder what else the author knew about the outside world. They were mighty quick to shut him up with death.”

Ava and Valentine exchanged glances and said at the same time, “Marxi.”

“Hm?” Armin asked as he shut his book and glanced around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

Ava became incredibly nervous as she fiddled her fingers together. “Word got out that a boy named Marxi, who lived in a cabin near us, was asking commoners questions regarding the walls and the outside world. Shortly after, he was mysteriously killed. Then a week later, his entire family was killed.”

“I remember that story now. But I thought it was a cabin fire incident? At least that’s what the papers said,” Armin said.

Ava slowly nodded her head no. She leaned in and whispered, “there were no bodies in that cabin. In fact, me and Valentine saw the day before while we were on an exploration—” she hesitated. “Their bodies were being bagged the day before the fire. None of them had burn marks either. We assumed it had something to do with a murder.” Eren and Armin gasped and exchanged glances. “But when we learned they claimed that it was due to a cabin fire, we knew.” Ava squeezed onto her arms and she stared into the cement as if she was reliving the moment. “We didn’t even tell our parents about that. We didn’t tell anyone. Because…we witnessed a literal government cover-up and didn’t want to—” she covered her mouth like she was going to throw up.

Armin reached his hand over Ava’s. “It’s alright. We won’t tell anyone. Promise.” His hand was so warm and his eyes were so comforting. She uncovered her mouth and nodded. Armin moved his hand back to his book and stared into the cover. “To think they’d go that far though.”

“Makes you really think”—Eren moved his gaze toward the walls—“What else is out there? What’s so important of a secret that they’re willing to kill for it?” He moved his gaze back to the group. “There’s only one way to find out. The mission to sneak outside the walls.”

“How are we going to get through the gates with those soldiers guarding?” Valentine asked.

“We’re not going through the gates,” Eren glanced at Armin.

“Well how then? There’s another way?” Ava asked.

Armin scooted closer to the center of the group. “My parents found a way. And they’re going soon.”

“What?!” Ava screamed.

“Shh!” Eren said as he glanced around.

“Sorry,” Ava whispered.

“It’s by air balloon. They’ve been planning this for awhile now. They’re going first, then when they get back, we can go next.”

Valentine glanced toward the walls. “A balloon that can go over 50-meters?”

“Yeah! One of their good friends has been working on it for over a year and it should be finished within the next six months. It can go much higher than 50-meters too. It’s specifically designed just for this cause.”

Valentine leaned back and glanced toward the sky. “Wow. It’s actually happening.”

Armin gave her a warm smile. “It’s happening.”

(Pt.5):

Six months later…

They had planned to have a watch party together and cheer off Armin’s parents as they lifted into the sky and made their way out to the new world. But this night in particular, Ava and Valentine never showed up. Two weeks after the balloon night, Valentine and Ava finally made it into the city.

“Hope they’re not too pissed at us,” Valentine said as she knocked on Armin’s house door. There was no answer. She knocked again and they waited a few seconds. There was still no answer.

“That’s weird,” Ava said. Armin always answered when they knocked. Every single time.

“Maybe he’s at Eren’s?” Ava said with a worried expression.

“And his parents?” Valentine asked. Ava shrugged.

“You won’t find the boy there,” an old lady said that lived next door. “He moved out a week ago.”

Valentine and Ava glanced at one another.

“Uh—do you know where he may be, ma’am?” Ava asked.

“Poor boys an orphan now.” Valentine and Ava gasped. “He could be anywhere for all I know.”

Valentine banged on Eren’s door. There was a long pause. Then Eren opened the door to a crack and peaked out with one eye. “Oh”—he opened the door all the way—“it’s just you guys.” He looked around as if to make sure no one else was with them.

“Hey, sorry we didn’t make it to the balloon night,” Valentine said.

“Yeah, what happened? Where’s Armin?” Ava said with a trembling voice.

“Shh! Keep it down,” Eren glanced back inside of his house. He made his way out and shut the door behind him. “Did you guys seriously not hear about it? It’s been all over the city for weeks.” Valentine and Ava nodded. “I guess news doesn’t reach you guys fast enough out there.” He sighed. “Maybe Armin should tell you himself.”

Armin’s grandfather, Miko, opened the door. His eyes looked like he’d been crying.

“Is Armin around?” Eren asked as he tried to peak behind the man.

“Sorry kids,” the old man said. “Armin can’t come out and play.”

“It’s alright, grandad,” Armin’s soft voice came from behind. “Who is it?”

The man moved aside as Armin made his way to the front of the door. He looked like he’d been crying as well. His eyes were puffy and purple at the bottom.

“Oh. Hey guys,” he said in a sad tone.

“Hey Armin,” Valentine said.

He glanced up at his grandad. “Can they come in for a bit?”

“If you’re feeling alright, I suppose.” The old man walked away.

“Come in guys,” Armin said. He sniffed his nose as he moved aside. They all walked in and went to Armin’s new room. It looked so bleak and grey. The walls were completely empty. There was only a single bed with two unpacked boxes in the corner of the room. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting guests so,” he wiped his nose.

“Sheesh if you think this is dirty, you should look at our room!” Ava said with an awkward laugh.

“Ha,” Armin said.

“Armin,” Valentine whispered. “What happened?”

Armin sat on his legs on the center of the floor. The others followed and sat down to form a circle. Armin moved his head down to where his hair shielded his face from the others. Ava slowly reached for his hand and held it. He slightly gasped as he glanced up. His eyes were red now and streams of tears fell down his cheeks as his lip trembled.

“Armin,” Ava leaned over to hold him. His arms dangled to his sides as he cried. He looked so broken.

Valentine glanced at Eren, who was trying to hold back his own tears.

“Th-they—” Armin tried to speak through his tears. “They killed them!” His voice trembled with broken words but they could make out what he said.

“What?!” Valentine said angrily. “Who?”

“The M—” Armin tried to breathe as he weeped. “M-ps.” Valentine’s eyes widened.

Ava squeezed Armin a little tighter. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He began to weep louder now. He struggled to bring his arms up to hug Ava back.

“Those bastards!” Valentine said.

“It was bad,” Eren sighed. “Me and Armin…” he hesitated as his eyes widened. “We saw them do it,” he whispered.

Valentine glanced at him in shock. “What?” she whispered.

“Yeah…the balloon was working fine. They were beginning to float up the wall…then…the MPs shot them down.”

Ava turned around and caught Valentine’s eye. They stared at each other for a long few seconds.

“That’s not all,” Eren placed his hands over his face. “They lied and said that it was an incident.” He was crying now. “Those bastards came up with a whole story that the balloon malfunctioned. But we saw it happen. We saw what they did.” There was a long silence other than Armin’s weeping. Ava’s eyes began to water.

“I’m so sorry,” Valentine said in a heavy tone as she moved her gaze to the floor. “And I’m sorry that we weren’t there for you guys.”

“No,” Armin said as he wiped his hands. Ava pulled back and sat beside him as she patted his back. “I’m glad you guys weren’t there to see it. It was a horrific thing to witness.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I wouldn’t have wanted your eyes to be haunted with a sight like that.”

Valentine glanced at Ava. She was instantly reminded of when she killed two men in front of her. The way her eyes looked. The way her face looked. The way she trembled. Ava glanced at her and Valentine looked away.

“I know it’s stupid but”—Armin sniffed his nose—“we were starting to think that they may have killed you guys too and that they were searching for us next.”

“Seriously. Our paranoia was so bad,” Eren shook his head. “Really thought we were never going to see you guys again. That we ourselves might go missing.”

“Sorry. We caught the flu. Then after we began to get better, our parents caught it,” Ava said.

“Well I’m glad you guys are alive and here,” Armin said with a stuffy nose.

“We’re glad you guys are too,” Valentine said.

They all leaned in and hugged Armin.

It was settled that the only way they could make it out the walls and not get mysteriously murdered was through the scouts.

#aot #attackontitan #enemiestofriendstolovers #enemiestolovers #levi_ackerman #levifanfiction #leviackerman #levixoc #leviff #levixoriginalcharacter #slowburn #slowbuild

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