#tho i do like storm being the one in charge at the end? good for her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miekasa · 4 years ago

Text

NICE.

+ pairings: eren yeager + (fem) reader

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

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

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

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

+ word count: 19k. i’m sorry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Get off my line.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, no—of course not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was almost three thou—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It wasn’t mine, I was—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And what’s it matter to you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not avoiding him,” you frown.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sound like you speak from personal experience.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“His parents?” Jean cuts you off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you… told Eren yet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is… is that why you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles. “I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You—you, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? What, baby?”

“Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t taste any almonds.”

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

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

“You think there’ll be macarons at the reception?” you question, biting into yet another pistachio flavored treat, “And if not, would it be rude to bring my own?”

He chuckles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure there will be macarons there.”

He’s always loved Paris, even when his mom moved away here and left him in New York, and he’d always loved it more when you’re with him. He feared that having to attend another, what he considered to be wasteful, wedding in arguably one of his favorite places in the world would leave a bitter taste in his mouth; but, thankfully, he’s only fallen deeper in love since being here.

“You sure you won’t be sick of them by tomorrow?” he asks, watching you debate between taste testing another variation of vanilla bean or rosé.

“How could I get sick of them?” you answer offhandedly, not sparing him a glance away as you choose the pink snack. How could he get sick of you.

“By the time we get back to New York you’ll have forgotten all about them,” he scoffs.

“Don’t worry I’ll quit it soon. I’ll have to eat something solid if I wanna take my meds and go to bed,” you spew with a smile, unaware of what you’ve actually just said, “But they are delicious and I have no regrets.”

Eren pauses. Then so do you, mouth stuffed with sickly sweet.

“I mean—”

“I know, you know,” he cuts you off, “About the meds and stuff.”

You look like you could pass out, or scream, or cry, or everything in between. Eren figures saying more is better than saying less, so he continues.

“I saw a bottle in the bathroom a few months ago,” he admits shyly, but careful about his tone, “Didn’t understand half the words on the label, but it had your name on it so I just, uh… Googled it.”

Of course he knows. Eren’s always kind of known, just never had the words to express it. He imagines that’s what you’re feeling right now.

“Oh,” you finally gape, “Why didn’t you, um… you know, like, say… anything?”

“It seemed like your secret to tell,” Eren shrugs, features softening out, “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to.”

Eren’s always been better at showing than saying, anyway. He hopes that his actions, small as they may seem, might have provided you with any sort of comfort in the past few months. Maybe even before that, too.

“Oh,” you repeat, continually blinking at him, “That’s… that’s it? You’re cool with it?”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to blink. “What do you mean am I cool with it? They’re your meds.”

“Yeah, but like… you’re not mad I didn’t tell—”

“Of course I’m not mad,” he cuts you off with a soft smile, “It’s not really my business. I mean, like, you’re my business because I care about you, but you have your own private stuff, too, which is cool. Besides, when I was, uh, researching it, I learned that it can be hard to tell people stuff like that even if—”

Eren shuts up when he feels your weight against him and your arms wrapped around him. Shell shocked, he takes a moment to hug you back, and slowly comes to rest his chin atop your head after leaving a flurry of kisses.

“You didn’t have to look it up or do any kind of research, you know,” you mumble softly into his jacket. Eren borderline chortles, but only hugs you more tightly.

“Of course I did. If not for you, then for myself, because I meant it when I said I’d never seen half the words on the prescription before in my life,” he replies, heart glowing at the sound of your small chuckles.

He’s expecting an equally witty response, but you surprise him when you pull back just enough to face him, a hazy smile on your face. “You’re amazing, Eren.”

Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush, fool. Don’t blush—fucking idiot.

“Yeah, I’m pretty great,” he boasts, leaning back into the coolest pose he could muster up while ignoring the growing heat creeping up his neck. It’s all in vain as you reach over to playfully tug at one of his ears.

He thinks you’re pretty like this. All the time, but most notably when he has you in his arms. So pretty, that he has to lean forward to kiss you; you don’t seem to mind, if the way you smile into the kiss is any indication of your feelings. Eren finds himself mirroring your grin; moving his arms from around your waist to the sides of your face.

The workers in this poor little café probably hate the two of you, but he doesn’t fucking care. He’s got his favorite girl in his arms right now, and you taste like almonds and coconuts and like the love of his life.

And he should tell you. Eren wants to tell you, and he finds himself wondering if those same intrusive, fearful thoughts were part of the driving force behind your own reason to keep your secrets from him.

You pull away from him, hands lightly draped around his neck, and you smile like you’re shy—like he hasn’t known you your whole life. Still, Eren finds himself smiling back; and thinks that if you were brave enough to tell him how you were feeling, then he should do the same.

“(_____), I… I gotta tell you something,” he starts, voice soft as his fingers curl around your waist a little more tightly, “Though, I’m kind of hoping you already know.”

You blink at him, almost innocently. Eren bites the inside of his jaw; you’re going to have to stop doing that before he jumps you again.

Better now than never, he supposes. He tries to shake his nerves when he takes your hands in his, completely covering them with his palms, and closes his eyes. Despite that, you try to offer him comfort, squeezing his fingers as best you can; and Eren takes that moment to thank his lucky stars for whoever decided to put you in his life. Because he knows that no matter what, even if he royally fucks this up, you’ll find some way to be there for him.

He slowly blinks his eyes open again, gaze resting on the ring around your neck. A faded chuckle escapes his lips when looks at it. The only one who got the wrong idea about his gift was you. But, he supposes that’s his fault; he never did explain it, after all.

“It’s nothing… It’s just that, I’m in—”

But Eren’s startled by a voice that makes him freeze. He almost wants to believe he misheard it, but he can hear the telltale clacking of vintage heels on the floor of the bakery and he knows that he didn’t mishear a thing.

Eren turns his head, and sure enough, there is his mother, in all her five foot glory, adorned in designer clothing from her beret to her shoes. With a fucking street urchin on her arm.

“Well, well, well, what a lovely surprise,” Carla beams, red lipstick perfectly in place even after a long day of wear.

Eren’s eyebrows draw together, as he takes in his mother and her fiancé standing in front of him. He can just barely register you calling out towards her, carefully maneuvering yourself off of his lap, and into the neighboring chair; but still keeping your right hand wrapped around his left. He can feel you squeeze it—whether to give him comfort, or warning, he’s not sure yet; probably both.

“It’s so good to see you!” you beam, excitedly offering her and Mitchell a seat across from the two of you at the table. Eren opens his mouth to refute, but you squeeze his hand again; a warning.

Carla leans forward to encase you in a hug, exchanging cheek kisses, and leaving Eren to stare at the street rat across from him. Mitchell seems to know better than to make eye contact with him, irises scattering from Carla’s back to the décor of the bakery while the two girls catch up.

“We missed you at the rehearsal dinner on Sunday,” Carla recounts, eyes fluttering to Eren’s briefly. One look into her son’s eyes, and she understands why; one look into his mother’s eyes, and Eren knows she has him all figured out. “I was worried you might not show at all.”

Eren strategically averts your gaze when you turn your head towards him, choosing to look at his mother instead.

“I didn’t even know there was a rehearsal dinner,” you tell her, tone polite, but Eren can hear the clear jab directed towards him, “I’m sorry, I—we would have gone, otherwise.”

“No need to apologize, darling,” Carla smiles, “I’m sure you two were very busy.”

“We were,” Eren cuts in, words definite. He sees a hint of surprise flash in his mother’s eyes briefly, expertly covered up with her sweet demeanor. She only nods in understanding, sitting back a bit to wrap her arm around Mitchell’s.

“What are you even doing here, Ma?” Eren questions, even as you do the same with his hands under the table, “Isn’t it bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”

“After the third or fourth wedding, you grow tired of pleasantries and superstitions, my love,” she replies, “This place makes Mitchell’s favorite macarons, we thought we’d share a few before the big day. Maybe get some tea as a pre-celebration.”

The topic of sweets has you speaking up once again, engaging both his mother and Mitchell in a discussion about them, and your other findings from bakery hopping earlier. If Eren didn’t love you to pieces, he would have left the table a long time ago.

It carries on much longer than he can bear to endure; almost an hour of you, and his mother, and Mitchell making pleasant conversation while he tries his best not to brood beside you, but it’s futile. He feels like a little kid again. Stuck at the dinner table with his mother and a man he was being forced to get to know, only for him to become a stranger to him in a matter of months.

Eren grinds his teeth into each other when you laugh at something Mitchell says. He’s not going to sit through his any longer; or ever again.

“Well, this has been fun,” Eren says, voice blatantly monotonous as his cuts through the conversation, “But we should all probably head back go to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Eren, we should—” but, he stands up quickly, hand wrapping around yours to force you upwards too.

He doesn’t care to look at you, knowing the dissatisfied expression he’ll be met with. He fishes for his wallet and pulls out too many Euros, neatly tucking them under an unused knife to pay for the meal.

Eren’s steps out from between his chair and the table. “We’ll see you guys tomorr—” But is stopped before he can take three steps away.

His mother’s hand wrapped around his wrist. She stands, significantly shorter than Eren’s full height. “Actually, Eren, could I borrow you for a bit?”

And he doesn’t want to, because he knows exactly the conversation waiting for him. But he looks down at her, lets his eyes flicker to you, and back to her, and he knows he doesn’t have the heart to walk away. Not even if he tried.

He sighs with a shallow nod. He can feel your hand on his shoulder, the proud smile on your lips when you tell him that you’ll meet him back at your hotel. Mitchell ensures him and Carla that he’ll make sure you get back safely, and Eren still can’t stand the guy, but he’s grateful that he can at least be of use for something.

Eren kisses you on the forehead briefly, a promise to you and himself that he’ll finish his confession later. After all, he probably should come to terms with the woman who taught him what love is before he vowed to love you for the rest of his life.

The walk to his mother’s hotel is silent, Eren choosing to keep to himself, hands stuffed in his pockets to prevent his mom from holding them. He’s probably acting like a child, but isn’t that what he is to her; isn’t that she treats him as.

“Look, Ma, you don’t need my approval to marry him,” Eren grumbles, when they finally exit the elevator into the hotel room, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Of course I don’t,” Carla offers him a small grin, even if he won’t look at her directly, “But it matters to me.”

“Why does it matter now? It didn’t matter with Keith, or Henry, or Henri with an I, or any of the others,” Eren mumbles, reluctantly taking a seat on the stool opposite the vanity.

His mother tracks his movements with soft eyes and an amused grin as Eren absentmindedly bends a knee and begins to fiddle with the hem of his pants. Just like he used to when he was upset as a child.

“It mattered then, too, Eren,” she tells him, sitting on the stool and facing him.

He’s surprised by her words, his wide eyes giving him away even if he attempts to act unfazed. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Carla opens her mouth to speak, but closes it, words stuck in her throat. She watches Eren’s hunched figure, her tall son not even bothering to look her in the eyes. She exhales slowly; if he were five feet smaller, he’d have tucked himself under her arm, still refusing to look at her, but he’d have snuggled his head into her side while he pouted anyway.

“I suppose it didn’t,” she admits, “In the end, the love wasn’t enough to make it last, then.”

Eren is quiet for a bit at that, pulling at his pants leg. “And… and you love him enough, now?”

“It’s more than love, Eren. It’s... happiness—for yourself and another person—it’s being okay with somebody knowing you now, and forever. Whichever version of you that is.”

“Then why did you marry them before?” Eren asks, “If you knew it wasn’t enough, if you knew it was just going to end up as another big mistake.”

“Maybe the marriages were a mistake, and some of what came with them, but I don’t think the feelings were,” Carla muses, “Love is never wasted.”

“How can you say that?” Eren questions, disbelief and exasperation painted on his face, “Of course it is—you wasted your time, and your money, and your—your everything on those people who couldn’t care less about you now!”

“Eren—”

“You let them into our house,” Eren speaks over her, “You let them into your life, and they left. They always left—”

“Eren—”

“—And you even let some of them come back! Everyone, you let everyone have another chance, another anniversary, another wedding,” He’s ranting, crying, hot, irrational tears streaming down his face; hiccups interrupting his speech, “So—so, so if it’s not wasted and everyone gets another chance and another chance and another chance—why didn’t he come back, huh? For his?”

Eren’s standing now, arms flailing every which way during his breakdown, but his mother doesn’t try to stop him. She lets him continue, hears him out.

“If it’s love—if it’s not wasted, and it’s real—then why didn’t he come back? Why didn’t he want to? Why—why didn’t he want me? Why did I end up the bastard?”

Eren looks his mother in the eyes for the first time in the duration of their conversation with that final question; with his vision blurry, and chest heaving, and cheeks wet. Carla has no words to say; can only carefully open her arms, and wait for her son to come crashing into them. And he does; and it rains and pours, and Eren holds onto his mother for dear life, and onto the pieces of her breaking heart.

“Am I not good enough to have that kind of love?” Eren asks through tears, “Am I not special enough to want to know?”

“Eren,” she finally speaks, moving to cradle his head in her hands, “You don’t have to be special or good, to be known or loved. It’s enough that you were born. That’s enough to make you deserving of love.”

She doesn’t mind the tears against her palms or the hiccups of Eren’s breathing, “And you already have it.”

And Eren looks at her with eyes wide and wild like a child, staring at the first person to have ever loved someone as messed up, and plain, and ordinary as him; and he can feel more tears bubbling at his eyes.

“Ma, I’m—I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, wrapping his arms around her even tighter, chin resting on her shoulder while his shake through his tears, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carla hugs her son as close as she can, like he’s five years old and the apple of her eye and she can take all his pain away. “You don’t have to be. You’re my son, and I’ll love you always.”

It feels like they have all the time in the world like that, to hug and cry and apologize; but Carla hopes Eren knows that he was always forgiven; that he never had anything to apologize for in the first place.

“She loves you, too, baby,” she coos, holding Eren as tight as possible, “But you have to let her know that. That you accept it.”

“Do you think she knows?” Eren asks, words muffled into the fabric of her clothing, “That I love her, too?”

“I do,” Carla confirms, pulling away to look at Eren in the eyes; his beautiful, shining, green eyes, “But I don’t think that either of you really realized it. I mean, you did give her an engagement ring, darling.”

Eren huffs at the memory, “She thought it was a gift.”

“Because you gave it to her as a gift.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Love has a way of making people blind,” Carla muses, “Especially two lovesick semi-adults with too much money on their hands.”

Eren’s cheeks grow pink at the accusation, “It’s your money!”

“Yes, and I’m very happy to have it,” Carla chuckles, motioning for Eren to stand up. He does, and she looks up at him with glimmering, proud eyes. “Now, go, shoo. You have a girl to propose to, don’t you? There might be two Jaeger weddings this weekend.”

Eren nods, certain of himself for the first time in a while. He turns on his heel with a vigor igniting his footsteps, but pauses when he reaches the elevator. He makes a sharp turn, running back to his mom one last time, and squeezing her suddenly, and tightly against him.

“I love you, mom,” he says; the words too foreign on his tongue, and he vows to not let them be a stranger to his vocabulary from here on out.

“I love, you, too, Eren,” Carla calmly wraps her arms around her son one last time, “And I always will.”

You half-expected your walk back to your hotel with Mitchell to be painfully awkward, but he proves to be a pleasant conversationalist, even in Carla’s absence.

You know that Eren isn’t fond of him, but you wish that he would at least give him a chance. There’s no way to know if a marriage—if any relationship—will last forever, but, sometimes, you think it’s not about knowing about forever; but, rather about wanting it to make it there; about willing to go the distance with that person.

You can see that want, that willingness that works alongside love in Mitchell and Carla’s relationship, that stands out from her past marriages. You get the feeling they’re going to last; and that, most importantly, they both want it to, too.

It’s quiet out as you both walk the streets of Paris, Mitchell taking the time to point out small notes in architecture that interest you. You readjust your jacket as a gust of wind washes over you, careful to make sure your necklace doesn’t snag against your clothing.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” he calls to you gently.

“Thank you,” Surprised, you quickly let out an embarrassed cough, looking down to your left hand resting atop the uppermost button on your coat. “It was a gift.”

“I meant that one,” Mitchell corrects, carefully gesturing to his own neck to indicate that he was talking about the ring on your necklace, and not the one on your finger.

“Oh, thank you,” you repeat, “That one was actually a gift, too.”

The older man hums, continuing your walk to your hotel. “Must have been one hell of a gift. I don’t know many people who give out engagement rings as presents.”

“Oh, no, no, no, it wasn’t—it’s not an engagement ring,” you tell him, feeling a warmth creep up your cheeks even in the chilly atmosphere of the night, “Eren gave it to me, actually, a few years ago—it was a Christmas gift.”

“Eren, huh?” Mitchell smiles fondly, “That makes sense. Carla tells me how much he cares about you.”

“You—she does?” you stutter. Mitchell nods. “I—I mean, I care about him, too.”

“Enough to accept an engagement ring from him, it seems,” Mitchell taunts, “I’m no specialist, but I know a Harry Winston piece when I see it. They’re not cheap.”

“Trust me, I know,” you scoff, “I almost killed him when I saw how much he spent on it.”

“And you took it, anyway?”

“Well, he—he was supposed to return it,” you defend yourself, “Because I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea! But he just, well, he gave me the other one instead, so I wear that one on my hand.”

Mitchell pauses, just as you both stand to the entrance of your hotel. “And what was the wrong idea you didn’t want people getting.”

“That... that...,” you pause, thinking back to that Christmas day.

Even though Eren is known for spending ludacris amounts of money, the ring came as a genuine surprise to you. A couple thousand on shoes, sure—you’re victim to that yourself; a couple hundred thousand on a lavish vacation wasn’t out of the ordinary, either; but a million, maybe even more, on a ring that you could have only ever asked of him in your dreams was another thing completely.

And, sure, even a few million didn’t mean much to you or Eren at the end of the day, but it wasn’t just the price; it was the object of the money, too. To accept a house, or a car, or a jet for that amount is something you could rationalize; but a ring seemed foreign, and far out of your league.

Then there was the display and value it held beyond money. It’s beautiful, gorgeous, but more than that, it’s tailored to your exact liking. The synthesis of your aesthetic and everything you could ask for, garnished with the memory of Eren in the very design; the diamonds you love, the flowers that remind him of you, and the way they stems wrap around each other and the petals meet in the middle.

A small gasp leaves your lips and instinctively, you reach to clutch the ring in your hold. There was no way this was an engagement ring... Eren hadn’t proposed to you when he gave it to you—in fact, he was so casual about it, that it had you stunned that he hadn’t thought to consider that other people might think it meant something more than what he intended it to be.

But, looking back, it seems like you’re the only one who didn’t understand what was going on. Because Eren told you, even then, that he’d wanted you forever; you didn’t know how to hear him. It was all right there—not just in the ring, but in all his gifts, in the entirety of your friendship.

Eren loves you, more than you could ever know.

“It’s an engagement ring,” you say aloud, but more to yourself than to Mitchell, “Oh my god, it’s an engagement ring.”

Mitchell can’t do anything but smile at your revelation. You’re practically bouncing off the walls, connecting the puzzle pieces of your relationship in the middle of the street at damn near midnight, but you don’t care; because it finally feels right, and it finally, finally all makes sense.

“He, but he never pro—oh my fucking god, I’m going to kill him.”

You feel elated and confused and happy and murderous all at once. Eren wanted to marry you; Eren loved you. He wants you for the rest of his life, and you’ve been too blind to see it this entire time.

Still, you think that maybe a verbal proposal might have helped to open your eyes a bit.

“Mitchell, I have to—”

You’re cut off by the echo of your name coming from the opposite end of the street, and you can just barely make out of Eren’s figure in the faded lights of the street lamps. His name falls from your lips like a whisper, and you hardly register Mitchell’s amused, soft laughter from beside you.

“I think that’s my cue,” he says, patting you on the shoulder, “I better get back to Carla. Something tells me you two have a bit to talk about.”

You can barely nod at him, eye still wide and stunned, but a smile on your face even in your fearful anticipation. You don’t have time to thank him before he turns away, bidding you goodnight; and then you have something else to focus on, as Eren’s footsteps grow louder, and his silhouette grows sharper the closer he gets to you.

He practically crashes into you, chest heaving, hair wind-swept and wild from his running. He puts his hands on your shoulders, to steady himself physically and mentally, labored breaths ghosting over the top of your head.

“Hi,” he finally squeaks; and that stupid, big, dopey grin is on his face.

It’s ridiculous, so utterly ridiculous that you can’t help but greet him back. The two of you stand there, smiling like fools for god knows how long, before the realization strikes you for a second time.

Eren opens his mouth to finally speak, but a pained squeal leaves his lips instead as he feels the back of your hand slap his chest. “Ouch—hey, what was that for!”

“What the hell do you think you were doing proposing to me without telling me?” you screech, packing another punch to his chest for good measure, but it’s a poor barrier and does nothing to stop your tears from falling, “You’re an idiot, I should kill you for this, you know that, Eren Jaeger?”

Eren laughs softly, only to be heard by you in close proximity. He takes your offending hand in his, and reaches for your other, pulling both of them between your bodies. He can feel tears welling in his own eyes, as he looks down at the necklace, glimmering perfectly under the moonlight.

“In my defense, the first thing you told me to do when I gave it to you was to return it.”

“I might not have said that if you told me what it meant,” you can hardly choke out a laugh through your tears; and Eren can’t stop his from falling either, “It’s insane, you know. This whole thing—to ask me to marry you at 19. For me to not realize until we’re 21.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, inching closer even though there’s barely any room between you, “I know. But I know I love you, every version of you. I always have, I always will.”

You close your eyes as Eren’s hands move to your face, gingerly sweeping your tears away from your cheeks. He feels too close, it feels like too much; but you don’t want him to move.

“You know... if you had asked me, then,” you start, blinking your eyes open with a sniffle; you’re met with Eren’s emerald greens one with far too much hope and love glimmering in them, “I—I don’t even know what I would have said.”

“And if I asked you now?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, slowly raising your hands to wrap around Eren’s wrist, and lower them to your neck, before looking at him again, “Ask me.”

Eren blinks, carefully trailing his hands up and around your neck, nimble fingers undoing the clasp of your necklace. He hardly lets the chain pool into his hand before it’s tossed aside, and the ring is still between his thumbs and index fingers as he lowers himself on to one knee.

“You are the love of my life, and there’s not a single version of life—a single version of you, or me—where I don’t want to be with you forever,” Eren says, “And you know how shit I am with my words, but I fucking mean it. I swear to you, that I’ll do my best every day to show you how much you mean to me; marry me, and I’ll prove it to you, I swear, I will.”

Your lips are wobbling at Eren’s confession below you, and you can just barely beckon him upwards in your state. He’s hardly back on two feet before you’re pulling him against you, ghosting the word “yes” on his lips before you kiss him.

You both melt into the kiss, Eren’s hands skillfully cupping your cheeks, while he keeps the ring in his hold and bruises your lips together.

“You don’t have to prove it to me, Eren,” you assure him, hand shaking when you pull apart and let him slip the ring onto your finger—where it belongs, “You already have.”

For his first birthday as a married man, Eren requested something intimate. He wanted just a small celebration with all of your mutual friends, some good food, alcohol, and lots of fun.

Supposedly simple and intimate for him entailed renting out the top floor of the Whitney, which was currently encasing an exhibit portraying some kind of abstract modern art that allowed for a very drunk Eren and Armin have to entertain themselves by trying their best to recreate the paintings using very flawed couples aerial yoga.

The art, paired with the dimmed lighting, Jean’s choice selection of overtly sexual music, and Eren’s pick of overpriced champagne also meant that Marco, Bertholdt, Connie, and Sasha found everything ten times funnier than they were—which meant they were a million times louder than usual.

Jean stands next to you by the bar, watching as Eren attempts to hold Armin above his head by holding on to just his waist. They’re unsuccessful, of course, resulting in both boys toppling onto the ground as the majority of their older friends laugh along.

“Lucky me, I get to take him home at the end of the night,” you drawl, turning to the bartender to order another drink.

She smiles, easily preparing your martini and sliding it you with an inquiry. “That’s your boyfriend? The tall one with the brown hair?”

“No,” you sigh, eyes closed for a moment before taking the glass between your fingers. “That’s my husband, unfortunately.”

× even more notes: this fic. is my baby. it’s been a draft of mine for over two years at this point. it’s gone through various fandoms but i’ve never quite been able to complete and post it, so i’m very happy that it’s finally here! i hope you all enjoyed, and i just wanted to say that i’m glad to finally have been able to share this with you all!

#attack on titan #aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT

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illvminous · 2 years ago

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waaah opening is here!! hi friends, this is blossom ( s / h, 21+ ) and i bring you wang lixin aka sunshine in human form ☀️ i don’t have his full biography up yet but here is a little page about him, his stats and what not. below the cut will be some facts about him to give you a better idea of who he is / his story!! as usual, drop a like if you’re down to plot - i’m available through discord and tumblr ims if need be. can’t wait to write with everyone ~

- wang lixin, 25, born to two artistic parents in harbin, heilongjiang, china

- his parents pretty much let him have free reign on his life and do whatever he wanted, not governing him like typical parents would

- this explains why he’s a bit...aloof and never went to university 🥴

- but !!! this does not, by any means, make him dumb or anything…he’s actually pretty smart and he definitely inherited the artistic gene from both his parents

- travelled a lot when he was younger with his parents during the summers, they wanted inspo for their art and what better way than to see the world?

- due to his travels, he’s able to speak a few different languages - predominantly the following (in order of fluency): fluent mandarin, fluent english, conversational korean, conversational japanese, very broken cantonese

- while he travelled with his parents during his young adult years and slowly transitioned to doing solo travels, he had always come back home to harbin but at around 22 he decided being in one place really isn’t for him

- so he packed his bags and decided to wander the earth, no real plan in mind but just going anywhere he feels like

- stumbled upon stardew valley and the quaint pelican town by accident tbh but he's been here ever since his arrival a year ago

- he’s built up a pretty good reputation around the town, always helpful and reliable for anything anyone needs (especially if you need something at the carpenters shop?? he gotchu boo xox)

- when he’s not working on his craft, he’s teaching art lessons at the community centre, free of charge

- now, at 26, he thinks pelican town might be the place where he settles for the time being, just doing woodworking and art, having the time of his life

potential plot bunnies 👐🏻

- typical plot where you're one of the first people he met when he arrived! whether they got off on the right or wrong foot is entirely up in the air

- someone who visits the carpenter's shop frequently, either as a customer or you just really enjoy being around the environment for whatever reason, he doesn't ask, but you two strike up good conversation each time

- he's travelled a lot so perhaps you and him have crossed paths at one point in your lives before both of you ended up here!

- he's teaching one of his paint classes and you're honestly the worst student he's had, nothing you paint looks right but he doesn't have the heart to tell you :///

- the library is supposed to be a quiet place for people but then you come along and he's normally very nice but how can he read his novels when you're making such a ruckus

- honestly, he's too nice and you find that super sus (fair enough u_u) and it's now your mission to find his flaws and show people that he's not who they think he is (spoiler tw: he is tho)

- the typical ex plot, be it from pelican town or maybe from when he was travelling!

...and that's all my pea brain can come up with so feel free to grab one of the above or we can definitely brain storm other things!! i'm much better at that tbh hehe

#stardewtm:intro #( queued for opening bc i’m busy all day 😭

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wlwmages · 2 years ago

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@lowonmelatonin originally made this so thank you for that and thank you @kitkat-tat for tagging me <3

favorite counselor and least favorite counselor. why?:

my favorite is hard bc i’m an indecisive bitch but i think it’s a solid tie between kaitlyn and dylan. kaitlyn is just. my girl. took charge, didn’t take shit from anyone, got shit done. but also when the situation isn’t life threatening she’s a bit of a dork and i love her for it. dylan bc i am a sucker for characters who use humor to cope with the fact that they’re awful in social situations and are terrified of rejection. also he just cares sO much and it makes my heart go <333

least favorite is also hard bc i actually really do like all of them or at the very least understand them but if i had to choose it’d probably be jacob. i promise i don’t hate him, he was just the one who i still had conflicting feelings about by the end of the game

favorite chapter and least favorite chapter. why?:

favorite honestly 2-4 take your pick from those. 2 and 3 are just nice to see the counselors have some fun before everything goes to shit, get a feel for the relationships and dynamics. 4 is when things are starting to go wrong but not super intense. you still get some fun and lighthearted moments while the stakes are still relatively low

least favorite, everyone has already made excellent points as to why but chapter 7 </3 has some good moments, was fun the first time around, drags on during later playthroughs. love lauramax tho

favorite ship (you can pick a maximum of 3)?:

rylan, blygbank, and lauramax my beloveds

biggest counselor crush:

now i know this may come as a big shock to you all: kaitlyn. my girlfriend, my love, my special little booboo bear <333

how would you survive the quarry?:

well the truth is that i probably wouldn’t lmao. i’d like to think i would have some common sense and not die bc i was being stupid but i knowing me i would probably trip and fall while being chased. but if i were to survive, my best bet would be hiding in the storm shelter

favorite the quarry fanfic writer and fanartist:

writer(s): @cloudycaffeinatedcryptid, @needsmorewlw, @dylan-lenivy-appreciation-day, @iamsuperbi, @mothamcity

artist(s): @eternalseal, @lenillusion, @lenivycunt, @denkicide

shoutout to some friends made in the fandom :)

@amberpriceenthusiast @stressedanime @kitkat-tat @alwaysher @emmamountebanks @riverrunscold 🥰

honestly the people i would tag for this have already been tagged above so feel free to jump in 💞

#tag game #the quarry

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ennoshawty · 3 years ago

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HQ CAPTAINS AS THINGS

i was bored and felt like doing a crackfic thing but i didn’t have any solid themes or good ideas

SO I PRESENT TO YOU - THE CAPTAINS. AS THINGS. IDK HOW TO WORD THIS BUT YOU’LL SEE AS WE GO ALONG.

warnings: VERY LONG, slandering a crybaby oikawa (lovingly), mentions f!reader, shitposting, mentions of violence in kita's, (a bit) yandere!kita, cursing, unedited, me being an idiot

officer!daichi

we are: vigilante/troublemaker

loving the enemies-to-lovers trope so much

nah bro you ain’t full criminal (bc my preppy ass could never) you just do the small vandalism things y’know like drawing peepees on government buildings and knocking over bins

u literally confessed to him by spraypainting the entire billboard by his workplace “I LIKE YOU” like way to go girl

He didn’t appreciate the creative graffiti but he rlly likes u so all u had to do was clean it and then next thing u know yall are out on a cute cafe date

but let’s talk about before yall got together

he’d CHASE u thru alleyways when he’d catch you writing “police sux” on the fuckin wall

bro is NOT AT ALL afraid to jump onto the roofs it’s FRIGHTENING to see this huge ass police officer storm after u

HES SO FAST HOT DAMN WOMAN HOW DO U GET AWAY FROM HIM??? USAIN BOLT WHOMST???

you’d almost always get away by a hair - he’s SO SO close

and it frustrates him but excites u oooooo arrest me shawty

and this would continue for a while

but yall have such fun fun banter - you’d tease him and he’d say something back and you’d bolt and he’d chase

some days he’d catch you. but in those times u slip away somehow

he’s having so much fun and doesn’t even know it

and then at one point he doesn’t even care about bringing u to justice anymore. he knows it’s bad for business and it’s unprofessional but he’s so attracted to u

he doesn’t even know it. HES IN DENIAL!!! his mind: “oh i’m just asking about her so that i know her motives” bruh no u just asked about our fav pastry this aint about crime anymore

and when he finally gets it,,,DINGDINGDINGDING SOUND THE ALARMS !!! MAN IS WHIPPED!! he’s more shy around u awww,,,doesn’t even want to chase u anymore but he will still engage in banter w u.

yall get a little peace treaty in the lil crush stage - you both are kinda aware of ur feelings towards each other but don't really wanna mess it up and jeopardize whatever's going on like bros PLEASE JUST KISS ITS INFURIATING

it’s more of a competition to see who will break the other first (and you lost he’s too hot)

he lets u joyride his cop car in an empty parking lot <3 he is the one <3 this is true love

u gotta marry him right now bro no excuses

u are no longer on the crime side of the law,,,u support him and only him fuck the rest of the cops (i’m jk of course...or am i)

u are his badass sidekick <3 unofficially of course until he marries u

u help him with the small things like helping lost children find their parents and helping old ladies cross the street

but you want to do the FUN stuff - chasing thieves and arresting drunkards.

unfortunately, he loves u too much to put u in danger so he keeps u from doing the dangerous things

after some protesting later, he trusts u to take care of urself. and now yall have a competition just like old times - whoever catches the most baddies at the end of the month wins (he WILL scold u if ur too reckless though)

THE TWO OF U ARE JUST GOOD COP BAD COP UHAHAHAHAHAHA

but it’s much more complicated than that - it’s either ur the laidback one and he’s the strict one or ur the fiery one and he’s the person like “calm down”

PLEASE HE HATES BRINGING U TO INTERROGATIONS he’s trying to be serious but you keep making him laugh istg he has to kick u out each time

u still make him laugh when u pout-glare at him thru the glass

bro says he’s not the stereotypical cop but the moment u surprise him with donuts and coffee in the morning he will make out w u right then and there

even though yall dating he still won’t let u play with his equipment

but sometimes u grab his walkie talkie when he’s not looking and prank call the others

and his coworkers know by now they’re like “oh it’s daichis gf” and go along with it HAHAHAHA “this is alpha 1, daichi just contracted ligma, over.” “roger, but what’s ligma? over.” “*inhale* LIGMA-” *daichi takes the walkie talkie back*

his coworkers are chill lmaoooo they love u two as a couple THEY ARE VERY SUPPORTIVE they planned a surprise anniversary party of when u joined the force (unofficially)

the juniors tanaka and noya are jelly ooooo but they respect their captain <3

u loooooove hanging out w the starry-eyed new recruit hinata and he’s bouncing around asking u personal questions “how did you date the commander!!! what’s he like as a bf??” he also accidentally exposes how much daichi talks about u in the office before he drags him away and murders him off camera

he does get u a walkie talkie that’s just connected to his line, tho. for emergencies. it’s ur second phone basically that only has his number in it

daichi LOVES it when u massage him after he’s had a long day but his shoulders are stiff as a statue,,,he’s also super stronk and can carry u anywhere <333

IMAGINE HE HAS A POLICE DOG - he doesn’t, but he’ll get one of his buddies to bring u a k9 unit so u can pet it and when he sees how happy u are he considers getting one PLSSS IT WOULD FIT HIM HELPPP

bro is VERY strict on safety. bulletproof glass in yalls house. alarms + cameras everywhere. trackers on every device. underground bunker. (just kidding lol)

daichi teaches u self-defense and gets u a bejeweled taser for ur bday <333 MARRY THIS MAN RIGHT NOW OR I’LL-

in other words i love daichi and he is husband material WIFE ME UP BUDDY

househusband!oikawa

we are: girlboss sugar mommy

somehow you tamed this bish to becoming your obedient malewife

and by obedient i mean whiny but compliant

IS MORE ATTACHED TO YOUR BLACK CARD THAN TO YOU. I SAID IT. THE TRUTH.

sure, he’s pretty and gives affection sometimes but the only time he’s bein cute and snuggly w u is when a new fendi purse came out and he wants it

his specialty is cooking but he’s so lazy he’s all “just get the maid to do it”

please give ur workers a raise he’s so demanding

when you take him to ur business parties hes ALWAYS bragging about you and ur large house with this and that and his favorite: indoor hot tub. he always brings up the indoor hot tub.

only reason you bring him is cuz he’s pretty and he whines when you leave him alone for too long

yall cant even stay for too long - he’ll practically drag u out of the building and whining that it’s too hot and his suit is too stuffy and to call a limo

he’s not afraid to embarrass u if u dont give him what he wants and he will spit out food at a formal dinner if its not to his liking

probably in competition w househusbands! makki and mattsun about who gets the best house so he’s constantly begging u for an extension to the house “please babe!!! makki has-” “no.”

8/10 times throws tantrums in public and 1465/10 times throws tantrums in the house

he wants to cry for the sake of crying. one time he lost his shirt and he wouldn’t stop bawling for 15 min

please find him a hobby

crybaby . the moment u give him the glare of death it’s over. but he’s got a cute crying face which makes up for his annoying whimpering

like he made the mistake of throwing a temper tantrum in the mall only for you to glare at him with a look that said “we’re discussing this when we get home and you’re gonna get your ass beat” and walk away. immediately stopped what he was doing and he was running after u, sniffling and mumbling apologies

please humble him and have him sleep outside. the couch is too luxurious to banish him to. he made sure of it himself. it’s reclining and has charging ports. he will not learn his lesson that way

does NOT want you to get a pet or a kid or even another sugar baby/househusband - he wants to be the center of ur attention

speaking of which he HATES it when you work for too long or work overseas. when u come back he’ll pout at u and give u the petty silent treatment

don’t bother trying to comfort him he thrives off of it and he’ll keep going so u can keep paying attention to him. if u just ignore him back he’ll come crawling back to u. “WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME IGNORING YOU?? DO YOU EVEN LOVE ME ANYMORE???”

one time yall got into a fight and he was all like “since ur being a rude mommy i’ll just find someone else !!!” inside u were like “oh god finally” but instead u said “okay”

ohmygod he panicked. he was rlly expecting for u to fight for him,,, but he doesn’t want to admit defeat first so he tries to go thru with it but you literally dont care. even when he has his chanel luggage packed and he’s standing by the door ur just like “ok bye bitch”

So he’s trying to stand by the door and wait for u to say that ur joking. ur not.

“fine! I’m leaving now!” “okay.” “...*sniffles*” “tooru, go.” “WAAAAH NO IM SORRY I DONT WANT TO-”

u knew this was going to happen sadly. u even hid the keys to all of the sports cars u own just in case he was actually going to go thru with it

tries to get in the gossip circle with the neighborhood trophy wives but they don’t think he’s cool enough. they like u though. they think ur hot asf and oikawa doesn’t like them no more bc theyre hitting on his ATM. but thanks to that u know all the gossip and shit even though u don’t ask for it

Every time u pass by a store where he thinks he wants something he’ll just cling to u and give the puppy dog eyes. like it could be out of nowhere and u see it and you’re like “where. which store.”

bro once he went luxury he never went back. he wouldn’t EVER step foot into a grocery store ever again congrats he’s been bimbo-ified

beat him with ur gucci belt pls it’s so funny

also please please PLEASE discipline him. tell him it’s NOT okay to just randomly purchase the entire swarovski store or to throw a party at ur house just bc he’s feeling petty about u being at work for too long. ofc he’ll bitch about it but you need to be firm

but don’t worry,,,he’ll get the idea when u take away black card privileges and slap him around (lovingly)

now he has to ask permission like a good boy. he’ll kneel and hug u and give a lil pout and whine

you got a bigass man child i’m sorry maam u should’ve picked tobio or ushi

ceo!kuroo

we are: secretary

bruh keeps it mostly professional during work hours

but that all gets shedded off like a snake when we on break

one minute he’s all “get these papers done by today or i swear on all that is holy i will destroy you” and then later he’s all “hey sweetheart wanna grab a cup of coffee”

flirty flirty FLIRTY FLIRTY AAAAA HES A MENACE

but you’re less than impressed bc y’know when the time clocks out and its time to go back to work he’s ruthless once more

HUMBLE HIM FOOL only when you’re on break though

will NOT stand for anyone else in the workplace bullyin u - NO WAY. only HIM

he’s got TONS and TONS of dirt on everyone in the office - NO ONE is safe so they wouldn’t even dare

RIP janet from accounting

that dumb bitch made the mistake of insulting u to ur face and in front of him. never heard from her again

it’s not even limited to the other employees - he’s not afraid to go off on a potential business partner if they dared disrespect you

bruh tries to call u on ur off days for the most randomest shit and to get ur attention

*picks up phone* “sir?” “ah! my favorite secretary ever! listen, i need you to grab my pens from my desk at the office and bring them to my place.” “...with all due respect, it’s 2 am, sir.”

but u have to comply with his ridiculous demands cuz he’s the bank

and he depends on u completely. as much as he hates to admit it - u have his schedules, itinerary, provide coffee, performance rates, stock info, you name it.

once u were out sick and he had the worst management - he’s not used to working without you

def tries to get some of ur workload off of u bc he’s worried that the stress of working for him made u sick + he doesn’t want to go thru scheduling again

prolly gets bored in meeting rooms and sends u little smirks and wiggles his eyebrows and weird looks while he’s sitting and ur standing in the corner like bruh pay attention

maybe sometimes he’s secretly makin fun of the presenter and doodling on his spare sticky note something funny to make u crack a smile

he’ll tease u for it of course “oh, secretary! you should be paying more attention! what would you do if this was important?” bruh i can multitask now keep airdropping me ur selfies i’m saving all of them (news flash: u dont save his dumbass selfies otherwise his ego will inflate too much)

sometimes likes to pull u aside from work to hug u - you say it’s highly unprofessional but he says it’s his stress reliever

you ALMOST got caught by one of the newbies and he was kabedon-ing you

he tries to play it off (since u were embarrassed too) but u know better,,,DO NOT LET HIM FORGET ABOUT IT he turns red and embarrassed every single time USE THIS TO UR ADVANTAGE !!

never goes into an elevator without you bruh is so attached to u n holds the doors open for you

but you have to open normal doors for him if he doesn’t know how it works (hint: manual doors. “why isn’t it opening on its own?” “sir, there’s a handle.” “but?? what does it do??”)

bruh acts like a dumbass sometimes so you can baby him :/// wtf man just because you’re rich doesn’t mean i’ll- ...wait...how much did you say…? that many zeros? HAND ME THAT FORK YES I’LL FEED YOU COME HERE- HERE COMES THE AIRPLANE BITCH

brings u to overseas trips and he spoils u too

no matter how much you insist that you’re ok he gives u a lot of luxurious items. “think of it as a bonus from me.” NOW YOU JUST HAVE A COLLECTION OF NICE SHOES/BAGS/JEWELRY AND HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU WEAR THEM TO WORK IT MAKES HIM SO HAPPY UGHHHHH

BRUH just a sugar daddy at this point “you have to look presentable for the next focus group so here’s a nice rolex watch” “sir, i don’t need-” “ah ah ah - it’s my treat.”

it’s pointless to refuse him but he still teases u for it like what???? “if i didn’t know any better, secretary, i’d say you’re just doing it for my money and not my fabulous looks and personality.” “exactly.” “hey!”

yall go for drinking parties a lot. whether with the whole branch or just the two of u

KARAOKE W KUROO AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK <333 becomes a ritual between the two of u

he’s so silly when he’s drunk lmfaoooo goofy ass mf

but that’s only when it’s the two of u. he controls his alcohol around others and his uncool side is only for u <3

also ur the only one he trusts to take him back to his place and handle him

it’s the other way around too - when u drink a lot he looks after you <333

you have a higher tolerance than him and sometimes u have competitions between the two of u on who can drink more but then yall always end up shitfaced

HES the one who has a crush on you

you know the drill - gaslight gatekeep girlboss

he’ll do anything for u but wouldn’t ever admit it he simp

offers u the keys to his estate and offers for you to LIVE with him

bruh just marry me already ok WAIT WE’RE NOT EVEN DATING YOU NEED TO WORK ON THAT SIR-

he’s so awkward tryna confess to u,,,he may be this big hotshot ceo but he’s acting like a schoolgirl in love

probably prints u a confession when he asks u to go to the fax machine lmfao what a nerd

in other words ceo!kuroo is a nerd and you need to top him immediately get that bank

dog hybrid!bokuto

we are: owner

Husky-malamute breed!!! BEEG DOGGIE VERY HAPPY N DROOLY <333

OVERLY HYPER. JUMPS ON ANYONE AND U AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT

he’s well trained i swear but the moment he sees something of interest then i’m sorry you just lost him

please if a robber came in he wouldn’t even attack them he’d just tackle them w hugs

he loves loves loves snuggles <333 u busy? nope!!! hug time!!! cooking something?? oo lemme see!!! whoops look at all those tomatos on the ground. u got a deadline coming up and u really need to focus?? CUDDLE TIIIIIIME- w-wait - huh?? why are u shoving me off?? do you - do you not - huh?!?! WHY ARE YOU LOCKING ME OUT OF THE ROOM?? NO!!!! I LOVE YOU!!! IDK WHAT EXAMS ARE BUT I WANT CUDDLES!!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME????!!!

the WORST things u could ever do to him is leave him and call him a bad boy

HE CRIES ON THE SPOT </3 HOW COULD YOU </3

soso bummed when u go out of the house without him </333 waits by the door patiently waiting for u to come back </333 sob sob

the moment he hears the door unlock he LEAPS and his tail is wagging like CRAZY

he is SO STRONG. almost always knocks u over whenever he jumps on u

destroys EVERY toy u bring him. u leave him for 5 seconds and there’s stuffing all over the floor and whatever u brought him is nonexistent

tugs on the leash when u walk so much that it SNAPS

loves romping w the other dogs in the dog park but he needs to tone down on his friendliness he almost killed a lil orange chihuahua

gets distracted by EVERYTHING. ooh, squirrel! oo, butterfly! OOO HUMAN CHILD!! MUST EAT!!!

ok while he might be friendly, he still gets super super jealous. you both were outside and u were petting the neighborhood black cat and bruh almost swallowed his head

which u thought was weird bc the two are normally friends and are pretty nice around each other

so now he’s more feisty around him and any other cat that’d get ur attention

If it was a person, then that’s another thing. He’d be very friendly at first but then slowly realize that ur attention is more directed on them than him. then he’d go ballistic

but when u scold him for practically assaulting the poor dude and call him a bad boy,,,he’s lost it

u have to lock him in the other room and he’s crying and whimpering, scratching at the door. all he wanted to do was protect u from that bad bad man who took away his owner’s attention !!!

def snarls at the dude next time he comes into ur house/apartment...dude never came back

“GRRR” “AAAA GET UR FRIGGIN DOG B-” “he don bite” YES IT DO GET UR-”

doggie bokuto rlly tries to be slick...it doesn’t work. like he tries to do that thing when he’s a total demon towards the guy but then act like an angel around u but it doesnt work bc he’s not smooth

doggie intelligence: 2 IQ. one time u got him a puzzle box and hid a treat in it but bruh couldnt figure it out just straight up monched the entire puzzle simply bc he smelled his fav bbq treat in it

speaking of intelligence - he only knows how to say a few words like ur name and incomplete sentences. speaks in barks and whines and sometimes a word

SO BIG THAT HE GRABS FOOD FROM THE TABLE WHEN YOU’RE NOT LOOKING

u had some delicious beef steak? oh dear, where did it go? there’s ur puppy kou with steak sauce all over his lips

big fan of hiking trips, sports, literally anything that involves going out

he LOVES getting dirty outside playing. boi cant control himself from rolling around in the mud

hates baths at first but then he likes how u spray the water on him and giggles awww he likes bath time now

we all know he’s not the brightest pup of the pack but,,,he’s somehow psychic. he knows when ur taking him to the vet

HE THROWS A BIG FUSS ALL THE TIME - sometimes he tries to hide but his huge tail under the couch gives it away

and he knows when ur thinking of taking him on a walk. he also begs u to take him outside by settling his head in ur lap and pouting until u give him what he wants

he likes the big ol doggie sweaters/pjs u buy him...but he always ruins them. no matter how much u buy him, they’re all ruined. he complains how scratchy it is and it feels weird on him

knows LOTS of tricks but if u teach him more than what he already knows he will forget one of them he’s like a damn pokemon

he feels ur emotions :((( if ur mood is down his tail droops :(( and he gives u cuddles and tries to make u feel better

he even likes to make a fool out of himself and be silly if it makes u laugh :((( he’s so precious

in other words i love doggy bokuto

pirate!ushijima

we are: kidnapped

ah yes we’re are captives of the most fearsome pirates of the seas: shiratorizawa

just so you know, tendou was the instigator. he was all “let’s kidnap a noble’s kid and get the ransom money!” (whether you actually are a noble or not is up to you)

thing is, nobody’s willing to pay (if you aren’t a noble) or the pirates really pissed off the folks in charge and are now doing a manhunt

so yeah you aren’t going back anytime soon

but he’s a pretty good sport about it - very hospitable

he notices the little things u like and gets them for u <333 sighs <333

he saw you reading that book? wow look at that, there’s suddenly a stack of them and the same genre he saw you reading

but you definitely shouldn’t test him. he’s SUPER scary when it comes down to it

you saw how ruthless he was with the rogues that had dared to challenge him on sea

mf made them walk the plank

you help on the ship bc u wanna be useful and also shirabu keeps being mean

he asks u to teach the crew how to read cuz theyre dumb as shit and only know water and treasure

speaking of treasure - when he leaves u on the ship to explore a cave, he gets u really pretty jewelry <33 anything u ask for

“oh, welcome back captain. how was your mission?” “i brought back a few trinkets i thought you might like.” *reveals whole chest of priceless gems* “are they to your liking? if not, we can set sail for something else that might interest you.” “I-”

bruh got a pet eagle - u ask the crew and they dont even know how tf it happened

hell, even he doesn’t know how it happened wtf. “oh. one day it flew down to me and i fed it. that’s all.” wtf

equivalent to diluc’s bird - he didn’t even give it a name so he gives u the honors

U name him rigatoni (you got a great naming sense btw)

oh my god oh my god oh my god HE TRIES TO PROTECT U WHEN PPL WERE TRYNA INVADE THE SHIP

it was the first thing he did no cap - burst into ur room and scoops u up <33333

“what the-” “we need to get you to safety. we are under attack.” and holds u close to his chest AAAHSIDHFPSDHFN OH MY LORD YES

HAS THE TEAM GIVE U SELF DEFENSE LESSONS AFTER THAT

tendou tries to give u a sword but ushi says no “she could hurt herself.”

“but ushiwaka! we can teach her not to hurt herself” “...it’s my orders.” “c’mon, be more honest, ushiwaka! what’s the real reason?”

he goes quiet then looks at u “...i’ll always be there to help. she’ll have me.” AOISHSDHFSNDF

HELPPPPP SIOJFDSKFJP HES SO CHARMING AND HE DOESNT EVEN TRY

but the rest of the crew are like “then what’s the point”

but tendou sneaks u a dagger just to be safe

sorry ur apart of the crew now - but they’re like a family even if they did kidnap u

oh whatever your life before wasn’t as cool as this (no offense)

they are given orders to protect u at all costs

speaking of which - ushi isn’t all that great w guns

almost blew his own head off tryna figure out how it works before reon snatched it from him

he brings you with him to towns and cities and he likes taking u to the markets to get you stuff

ushijima tell me your love language is gift-giving without telling me your love language is gift-giving-

he finds out you’re pretty good at bargaining and brings you onshore a lot more

is mesmerized at how you absolutely BERATE the merchant who was tryna rip you off like sis where is this violence coming from??? he loves it??

he also likes to stop by some pretty islands and imagines just settling down in such a nice place w you <333 SIGHS <333 VERY <333 LOUDLY <333

no matter how much he likes you...he will NOT let you drive the boat under any circumstances </3 its his livelihood c’mon man

whenever you have to stay on the ship while he’s away he sends rigatoni to give messages and the two of u talk thru messages

speaking of which rigatoni is fierce and can definitely sink his talons and his sharp beak into any bastard that dares get near you while the captain is away

wakatoshi “swimming is for pussies” ushijima - he’s water resistant

bruh so powerful he walks on water

second coming of christ who

IM JUST KIDDING he does swim but we hardly ever see it

legends say (tendou says) he looks rlly awkward doing it and only knows how to doggie paddle

speaking of our homeboy tendou - he loooves spooking the team (and especially you) with scary stories . don’t worry tho - this is all a ploy to get the beeg pirate husband to comfort u at night ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) he is ur wingman u can count on him. but his suggestions are ridiculous

“Jump off the deck and see if he’ll catch you!” um excuse me- THOU SHALT NOT PUT BIG HUSBAND TO THE TEST

he’s got good intentions...i think…

but everyone literally knows he would dive after you

in other words pirate!ushijima is a softie at heart but goddamn he probably secretly has a pet shark so dont test him or u goin overboard

mafia leader!kita

we are: associate from different group/family

kita highly respects u and yall have been acquainted since u were young with the alliance of ur families

so in a way ur childhood friends but yall do have lil bit of friendly rivalry a bit

arranged marriage whuuuutttt...yeah thats what happened but u love him <3

nobody else knows about ur arranged marriage but you two

POLITE GENTLEMAN <333 !!! HNNNNNNNN his granny raised him right even tho he’s a mafia leader

RICH BOY RICH BOY RICH BOY- ALWAYS DRESSES DASHINGLY AND SMELLS GREAT MMMMMM

he owns the majority of the underground casinos

and has lots of connections with others. countless, might i add.

you on the other hand specialize as an arms dealer so he cherishes your services the most

prob has the traditional tattoos allllll over his back and shoulders w like a dragon or sm and def a fox or kitsune

when u two were little he asked ur favorite flower and GOT THAT TATTOOED ON HIS BACK <3 probably secretly has your initials hidden in there somewhere

u both have a silent understanding of each other and he talks to u more than he does anyone

before he used to smoke but once he figured out that you didn’t like the smell of cigarettes he quit just like that

his underlings, the miya twins are so confused on how kita switches from totally brutal and ruthless to so soft around u

they can’t tease him for it, though, cuz he’d pulverize them

but they want to know more about u,,,you mysterious enigma,,,but kita would kill them if they dared asked about you

so they go to inarizaki’s most secretive informant/cyber mercenary, suna rintarou

and suna knows all about you. he saw you one time and he was curious about who you were and is now rlly scared of you because he dug too deep and you’ve got LOTS of history

he doesn’t dare tell the twins what he found no matter how much they bug him

until they bribe him at just the right price

and when aran finds out and tells kita?? ohhh boy it’s lights out for all three of them

oh my god ,,, would kill for u he loves u so much

one time you were kidnapped and held hostage

bro saw red

MAFIA ANNIHILATION SPEEDRUN ANY % NO GLITCH

he got world record time

wiped out the entire conglomerate behind it - nothing and nobody left behind after that

and of course, made sure you were safe.

yandere? ofc not...i mean...just look at him...so innocent...he would never...sharpening that knife...with splattered blood all over him...

is now joined at the hip with u,,,no matter how much you tell him you’ll be fine now and that you have tons of reliable bodyguards he won’t let it go

“don’t you have to go back to your place?” “this is my duty as both a fellow associate and your future husband.” aww,,,ur so sweet...but BRUH PLEASE GO HOME ARAN IS DOING EVERYTHING OVER THERE

makes sure to build a headquarters DIRECTLY NEXT TO YOURS so that its faster

and it’s not long until he just signs a deal to merge ur factions together (since yall getting married anyways)

and oh my god...ur underground wedding is SO SO PRETTY

absolutely DOESN’T care if he’s smuggling jewels from different countries - he’s having your ring CUSTOM MADE and the way you want it. “the diamond is too small? sure thing, darling, i’ll have it 7 times that size.”

makes sure everything is perfect in ur wedding <333 its very extravagant and even though its not really his style he’ll do anything for you

he absolutely WOULD take your last name if you wanted. FIGHT ME ON THIS

takes you to his private island for ur honeymoon so that the two of you don’t have to worry about work

meanwhile aran is scrambling around the place trying to cover for the both of you

he’s a VERY romantic husband - NEVER takes off his ring even for security. he says its practically a part of him just like you are <3

the ring has a built in tracker connected to an app. possessive? noooo...

in other words this escalated pretty quickly but i aint complaining if it gets me married to kita

--EXTRA EXTRA!! other characters’ roles!!--

officer!daichi:

karasuno squadron consists of:

cops: daichi (duh), asahi (mostly patrol, he hates confrontation), tanaka & noya (mostly accompanied by ennoshita), hinata & kageyama

investigators/detectives: sugawara, ennoshita, yamaguchi, tsukishima, kiyoko, yachi

surveillance: narita, kinoshita, tsukishima too

househusband!oikawa:

makki and mattsun are also househusbands

iwaizumi is a malewife fhasodjkasdhf-

ceo!kuroo:

lev is the newbie that walked in on u two-

janet still a bitch

kenma is his fellow ceo buddy. he also owns a multimillion dollar company and kuroo’s and his have a sort-of contract so you see him a lot in meetings

yaku is like one of the top performing managers so whenever yall have branch meetings he’s there

dog hybrid!bokuto:

kuroo is the black neighborhood cat bokuto almost murdered cough cough i did that on purpose yes i did

kenma is also another neighborhood cat. you don’t see him around that often but now that bokuto got jealous he stays far away.

hinata is the orange chihuahua i briefly mentioned

i couldn’t decide whether akaashi would stay human and be his previous owner or also be a cat/dog/owl. so lets say he’s ur human friend that is your bestie and comes over a lot. bokuto likes him, though. still gets jealous a bit.

pirate!ushijima:

tendou is practically is right hand man

the rest of the team have something to give idk how to explain pirate team members okay-

BUT BUT BUT- they do have sea rivals which are the seijoh pirates. you ran into them one day and oikawa thought you were kidnapped (you were, but you liked it there) so he tried to do you justice and failed miserably. ushijima ragdolled him into the ocean when he flirted w you.

mafia!kita:

the twins are something akin to mercenaries basically. or just plain lackeys.

suna is an informant/cyber mercenary. he gathers information about ppl which is how he knew about you. and he’s a hacker lol.

aran is his second-in-command, omimi + ginjima are his bodyguards

a/n: im going to regret posting this

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu captains #daichi sawamura #oikawa toru #kuroo tetsuro #kita shinsuke #ushijima wakatoshi #bokuto kotaro #x reader

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probably-haven · 3 years ago

Note

Hello!

So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!

I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!

And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!

rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!

also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD.

This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.

ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely

More Archon War Era Venti: one two three

spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)

first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.

the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.

This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea

but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.

When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt

as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's

- he was a wanderer

- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)

- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed

there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."

Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)

My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.

So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did

so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close

now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.

A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.

It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.

now back to Gunnhildr

she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.

It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."

I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.

So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.

Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.

but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.

anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in

The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.

Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.

I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.

And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.

He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.

but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.

I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.

Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan

anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir

He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.

Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it

and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.

See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"

And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.

also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.

Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.

basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.

And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.

And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.

#genshin impact #genshin venti #genshin impact headcanons #genshin theory #genshin headcanons #archon war era venti #genshin barbatos #genshin decarabian #nameless bard #genshin ragnvindir #genshin gunnhildr #genshin lore #genshin spoilers #spoilers #angst #venti angst #archon war #old mondstadt

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aquamoonchaii · 3 years ago

Text

•• genre: fluff, angst

•• warning: mentions of alcohol

•• pairing: xiaojun x fem! reader

•• wc: 1.4k

•• collab: Resonance Beach by @amorajae

•• charlie's notes: enjoy this cheesy piece <3

•• summary: you two choose the worst time to argue and separate each other for a while so xiaojun is now a party pooper and he is a sappy drunk asshole. did he even understand what you said that night?

“He is the luckiest asshole in the whole resort.”

“Not as lucky as me, remember I won the tickets to get here in the first place.” YangYang brags and a couple of mocking “thank you sir” echo the room.

“But really, who the fuck brings this alcoholic to his room?” Hendery questions and the man in question scoffs, sitting up just to find all the idiots gathered around him.

"Are you really talking about me….around me?" SiCheng, without a word, grabs his face like searching for something then proceeds to grab his hands and puts them up as he is shirtless. "He is complete, no organs removed or bruises. This guy right here is indeed lucky." Xiaojun furrows his eyebrows as SiCheng gives him a slap on the back, stands up and leaves as everyone follows him talking about what they should have for breakfast but the only rational one stays.

Kun rolls his eyes at his hungover friend when handing him a glass of water with pills he got there. "You know this resort masters at wild parties and strong liquor so why are you drinking so much? The blackout thing and being lightheaded are not sexy nor a good combination."

"I'm a grown man, it's fine."

" I know, that's why no one follows you."

"Don't lie, I heard the bartender calling you."

"...maybe. But that's not the point, how do you even get here?" XiaoJun groans because it's too early for this and he is hungry, thinking how he wants to go home and be at peace. "Whatever, just don't die DeJun. Do you have any news?"

He lowers his head and shakes it, no one really mentions it as they promised to shut up about it hoping he shuts up and enjoy.

Xiaojun indeed has been quiet but drinks one beer and he is sobbing about Y/N once again. Goddamnit. It's been a week of him drowning in his tears and three days of him drowning in alcohol, his friend is really heartbroken and he secretly wonders if this type of codependency is actually good for him.

Kun bites his hand to not call you and ask what happened because XiaoJun won't talk about the whole stuff. You two were basically glued to each other since you started dating and it was a bit awkward but XiaoJun looked happier and you were really nice to everyone.

He wonders if his probably now single friend is going to be alright. For now, he just listens to him talk for a bit and forces him to swallow a lot of healthy snacks so his liver doesn't collapse.

……….

It's been two long days at the resort and everyone is having fun except XiaoJun. He has been basically brought here as another suitcase anyways, one night he has been slurring words about Y/N and how the guys would have to kill him to make him accept the invitation to the resort and the next day he woke up at lunch time with a huge hangover at a king sized bed... at the Resort.

Fuck them all.

Until Kun made some sense because well, they didn't do it to mess with him. Actually, yes but also because XiaoJun was one of the most excited when Yangyang played a stupid lottery and won tickets to a luxury resort for a week. He helped Kun to organize everything for the other chaotic asshats, it was gonna be an unforgettable summer vacation.

Yangyang and the guys approved Y/N so they invited her but no one asked anything, maybe it was because he arrived late at the dorms looking like garbage after meeting you. He remembers reaching them and opening his hand to show them both of your rings, how embarrassing but at least that stopped the questions.

After Kun leaves, he slurs a thank you because he knows he is making this trip a nightmare for him. But a question keeps running through his head, does he actually reach his own dorm by himself?

DeJun can't even stand on his feet when frick an he acts wild almost screaming what he feels because the alcohol softs his vocal chords and makes him rant about his feelings he prefers no to talk about sober.

He doesn't stand up but leans to the little table at his left to search for his wallet and grab a lot of cash, he'll search the person and tip him extra because it's probably one of the service people that looks the worst side of him.

Let's give us some time. It would be good for both of us, DeJun.

Honestly, fuck you.

How is this good?

It was a silly argument that turned into something big as stress and miscommunication clashed, you both hurt each other with harsh words and stormed out in opposite directions. The next day he met you to talk things out and you forgave each other but it had turned awfully when you returned the promise ring to him.

You are not coming back, he can feel it.

Honestly, he wants to run to you and do something for you to get him back. But what if you end things right away? You said something about giving him a week to enjoy himself as the most repetitive thing of him at the argument was you being everywhere and he couldn't breathe.

He sighs, how stupid of him.

Basically, DeJun is the clingy one so that didn't make sense. He was the one expecting for you to come and cuddle him as you bicker with Yangyang as he tried to roast him, you caressing his hair as he played the guitar and sing for you, the little kisses on his cheek when he felts sad, how you didn't leave his hand even when you were paying for the snacks. He loved it, he was the one to search for your hand so you can hold him a bit more.

If you are taking your revenge now, it's working and he wishes once again being at the dorm so the wondering and the waiting eats him alive.

You are not coming back but he is hoping you do somehow.

…….

"DeJun! Are you drunk?" He shakes his head as he arrives at the fun stuff to do, maybe doing something would make him stop thinking about you for a bit. Everyone pats their back as he probably looks like crap and make him go to beach and learn surf.

...it doesn't work but he feels less miserable at least.

No headaches are cool too as night arrives and they are invited to a party. SiCheng bet him 100 dollars he couldn't pass the night without a single shot and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'll be the one who takes you to the dorm, I won't clean anything tho."

"Deal."

The variety of cocktails makes everyone drunk as hell and XiaoJun actually has fun watching Kun dancing on the table as everyone cheers for him. Hendery breaks empty glasses as he tries to do a house of cards with them, he is the one in charge of apologies tonight. SiCheng literally passes out on his lap and he can't move.

Luckily, the staff helps him and takes each asshat to their room and he gets the chance to ask who is the person who takes him to his own room.

"No staff was needed, sir. A lady came the first night and handed me her number so I could call her when you were passed out."

"Uh, what?"

"We allowed it as he addressed herself as your girlfriend. The friend who slept over you confirmed to us she made you arrive safely."

WHAT.

"Can you call her please?"

And there you are coming hurriedly from another side of the resort, waving at the bartender. "Where is he?"

He lifts his hand and nervously waves, you approach him awkwardly and waved too. "So you caught me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"Well, you weren't in conditions for it."

"And what's the best condition?" He doesn't know how to feel, but being embarrassed is the first thing that gets the best of him as you saw it all.

"Maybe sober?" You shrugged your shoulders and sat down in front of him, his cheeks heated because he remembers talking to someone about how sorry he feels for the woman he loves. "You really don't know how to listen to me, huh?" He looks at you utterly confused but his heart flutters when you extend your hand to him. DeJun carefully grabs yours and lets out a shaky sigh like he has been holding his breath since you left.

"Y/N…"

"There's no need to explain further, I heard it all with hiccups and everything." You chuckle and caress his hand. "It was too extreme for me to return the ring, I'm so sorry for that. But I really thought a week alone would make us think if this relationship was going well and… I felt awful. I literally made you cookies twice and kept forgetting we were on a break. I am not sure how to ask this but, how did your week go?"

"I literally can't see because of how swollen my eyes are. Never do this again please I'm so annoyed I'm going to cry again."

"I won't I promise, I also can't see." You laugh and he looks at you, your sweet eyes lighten up as he stands up and kisses them both over the table as he mutters apologies again.

"Can you keep it as a secret what I did hen drunk?"

"You screamed my name but I loved it." XiaoJun groans and covers his ears as you laugh, he searches his pocket and give shou the ring.

He is never going to drink again but he makes you write on a napkin a promise to wear the ring everywhere.

#nct reactions #wayv reactions #xiaojun #dejun #fic #fluff #resonancebeach #collab #nct collab #xiaojun fic

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liddolwhynot2000 · 4 years ago

Note

Hey I would like to make a request for a soft yandere Levi x reader Levi finally gets to retire and open up his own teahouse and he starts to have feelings for reader who works for him, some fluff please and thank you 🙂 and on the side note I bet Levi is into bondage

Oohh yandere time. I hope you enjoy!

(also yes I think so too. Probably a very mild version of bondage tho.)

___________________________________

Envision

____________________________________

Summary: Humanity's strongest soldier was destined to spend the rest of his life alone--but then he met you.

____________________________________

Pairings: Levi/Reader

Genre: not so soft Yandere, Levi falls in love, no angst

____________________________________

Retirement had always been a foreign concept to Levi. He had figured that it was one of those things he could only dream about. After all, being in the survey corps was the equivalent to signing up for an untimely death. As far as he was concerned, his end would occur in the mouth of some titan. It was a death he had made peace with.

However, some sort of fate had intervened and before he knew it, he had recieved the retirement he had never been courageous enough to voice out.

He had opened his own tea shop.

It hadn't been easy, of course. Initially the government hadn't been willing to give him much beyond a certain amount of money every month. But once queen Historia had recovered from giving birth to Princess Ymir, they had changed their tune quickly.

The queen had awarded his years of service with a plot of land and a fairly large house. There was also a monthly payment of more money then he had ever seen in his life. The house had needed some improvements. But Levi was in relatively good shape, so he fixed whatever needed to be fixed with his own hands.

He rather enjoyed the laborious task. But what he was more thrilled by was the wholesome outcome.

His tea shop had a nice, modest corner in the city. And much to his delight, it was always hustling and bustling. Many flocked to it, initially out of interest of seeing Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Most returned once they realized that the tea was amazing.

The house was divided into two parts, with the lower floor consisting of the cafe and the upper floor was where Levi lived. There was a plot of land that he owned, in the more rural areas, where he had paid some farmers to grow tea leaves and certain fruits and vegetables for his shop.

It had taken two years of hard work but his venture had paid off. His very own tea shop had been established and was making plenty of profits.

Levi no longer had to fight titans, or watch his cormades die in the battlefield. His life now consisted of a nine to five job, like most civillians. And he couldn't be happier about it.

Meeting you only amplified that happiness.

____________________________________

Levi had recruited his staff in a far more different manner then others would. For one, they were all former misfits. Three teen boys and two teen girls--who had grown up just like him, stealing to survive. Levi liked to think it was a way of paying forward what Kenny had done for him- if the man hadn't met him when he had, Levi would have died sitting next to his mother's corpse.

After he had settled them all into their jobs, he hadn't seen any need to recruit anymore people. They were running the shop just fine, and all Levi needed to was supervise a little.

Then you came into the picture.

You were so...delicate. Even shorter then him. Levi privately admitted to you being quite the beauty, with your sweet face and gentle smile. Your clothes were baggy, hiding a figure he often found himself wondering about.

He had thought that you were younger, maybe 18. But you had informed him you were actually 28. You had been a chef at the palace, but due to personal reasons, you had quit and desperately needed a job.

Levi had known he didn't actually need a chef, his shop was running just fine with the one he already had. But, he was so starstruck by you, so confused by what he was feeling, that he had ended up hiring you anyways.

You were rather timid- not really making eye contact with anyone, keeping your head down as you worked. You didn't bother making friends with the others, the age gap making it awkward for you. But you ended up making friends with him.

It had started out small, and Levi admitted, because of him. He had left you in peace for the first two weeks, but he was so inexplicably drawn to you, that he had to interact with you. So he ordered you to make him tea.

It didn't take you too long to understand how he preferred his tea, and within weeks, you were bringing him tea everyday, without even being ordered. It was made just the way liked it.

At the start, he tried to contend himself with brief conversations, often restricted by his inability to ask you to sit down and drink tea with him. Once he learned you were quite the cook, he made it a point to show his preference for your cooking.

You had been so grateful to get a job from him, even though you had known he didn't need to hire you and was still paying you quite generously. You immediately took the bait and began bringing him meals in the afternoon.

It was only when Levi gruffly ordered you to bring your lunch with his that you started to eat with him.

And thus began his friendship with you.

____________________________________

Growing up in the underground, the notion of love had never been taught to Levi. The most genuine warmth he had ever experienced was his beloved mother. He struggled to remember her now, time having messed with his memories. But he knew that the most he had ever felt loved was with her.

His mother's lullaby, its lyrics long forgotten in his youth, was something he sorely missed. Her embrace was something he had longed for on his worst days, but he had forced himself to accept that it would be a long time till he would ever see her again.

He had also accepted that he would never have someone in his life who cherished him the way she had. Not even as lover.

When it came to the romance department, Levi hadn't ever gotten into a relationship. Sure, there had been offers, but he had never indulged himself. He had turned down countless love confessions, feeling rather uncomfortable. Maybe it was that no one really knew him, or it was just that he wasn't interested at all. He had even thought of himself as incapable of feeling love again--the way he had let people into his heart, even if just as friends, only for them to die. It had left him cold to the core and unwilling to even entertain the idea of friendship, let alone romance.

Humanity's strongest soldier was destined to spend the rest of his life alone--but then he met you.

You and your soft presence, making him feel things he hadn't ever felt before. You made him feel warm, but different then the way his mother had. Often times, you left him feeling out of breath and with his heart beating erratically.

It had started out so small, hardly noticeable ot even himself. But one day, you had smiled at him, Levi recalled fondly, and it had made him want to smile back.

Things had only spiralled out of his control afterwards. There were days he would get so overhwlemed by his strangely strong emotions for you, that he would avoid going into work. Only to find himself missing you.

The days he didn't cowardly hide away, he found himself basking in your presence. You weren't some chatterbox, finding the silence to be just as soothing as he did. It was what made the two of you mesh so well.

It didn't take him long to grow out of his phase of uncertainty, Levi had a good idea of what he was feeling. But he wanted to see more of you, know more about you, so he could make a proper decision. But just watching you was driving him crazy.

The way you tucked your hair in behind your ear as you worked, it made him wish he could do it for you. He was sure your blush would be adorable.

The sweet way you giggled at his horrible jokes, it made the darker part of him long for you to reserve that laughter just for him. It had actually made him go out of his way to ensure that your interaction with males was limited. The ugly, jealous part of him couldn't tolerate anyone so much as looking at you.

How tired you got while working hours and hours end- it made him wish he could just lessen your work to nothing. The possessive part of him insisted that you didn't need to work for anyone else. That you should only be cooking for him. Levi often told himself, trying to stay in control, that he would make it so soon enough.

Your delight when you were around little children, you often gave them discounted desserts. It made his traitorous mind imagine little kids that looked exactly like you.

His feelings for you had grown exponentially-his initial curiousity about you hadn't been sated by any means. In fact, he thought about you more each day that went by. His mind had begun to conjure up a future for the two of you.

It was a future where he could see himself waking up to you every morning, and ending his day with you in his arms.

A future, Levi thought to himself, he was determined to turn into his reality.

Even though he could tell you didnt quite feel the same. But time could change feelings right?

____________________________________

If there was anyone on the Island of Paradise that could get away with murder, it would be Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Even in his retirement, the military knew better then to press charges against him. Or even say out loud that he had committed the crime.

On a rainy day, Levi's staff watched him walk out of the tea shop, cloak in hand, a knife hidden in his boot. He had stormed out, with his eyes screaming murder, and no one had enough courage to stand in his way, let alone ask him anything.

He would come back the next day, looking calm. His staff, unfazed by the blood stains on his clothes, had carried on with their work. They knew better then to ask.

You, on the other hand, did not. You didn't have the same childhood they had, for their lives had been riddled with crime and unfairness. You were soft- innocent. And so, so concerned about him.

You checked him for wounds, fussing over him, much to his delight. You had no idea that every hiss of pain was absolutely false, he hadn't sustained a single scratch. But for the sake of keeping your attention, he would keep at his acting.

And besides, the entire reason he had gone out was to fight for you. You had, while sobbing, told him the reason you quit your previous job-a scummy noble, Travis Wills, had been trying to force you to marry him. Levi hadn't been able to keep his rage to himself, and in his mind, rightfully so. The man's body would never be found.

He would never tell you, of course, in fear that you would be scared of him. It would remain one of his secrets.

He would love and cherish you beyond anything. You would only ever see your gentle, soon to be ex Boss, as your lover who could do no wrong.

You would never meet the monster in him.

At least, he hoped you wouldn't.

____________________________________

A/N: Heyooo. This is smaller then usual and I don't even know if I tackled yandere Levi well! Do tell if y'all liked it. Till next time ⭐ also asks are open please ask for some headcannons I feel like writing some.

#AOT #yandere levi #levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #Levi x reader

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thirstyforred · 3 years ago

Text

my working notes (as in done at work when I should do work instead), unedited, just transcribed

girlies, and i know no one cares because i never wrote that Rissberg fic, but what if Carla Demetia Crest Raven Way was the last living member of the research team by the time of witcher saga and she was totally a GILF? What about that?

And like Salamandra tries to recruit her because she's awesome and authored that only one existing dissertation on witchers and mutagens. But she's like 'no <3', and Azar and Prif are like 'uwu pappy JdA, she doesn't want to work with us :C'. So Jacques sends over Albrecht who's like 'I can hand draw a perfect circle', and Carla is like 'lmao is that supposed to impress me? <3', and then they fuck. YES, Al fucks that grandma. And they bond over their mutual interest in demonology because I never wrote that Rissberg fic, but that's what I actually planned for Carla to be doing at Rissberg, Kiyan idea had to come from somewhere, so it might be from a bunch of guys going 'maybe my experiment will succeed', even tho a woman already told them no, it won't <3

Anyway, Al and Carla work together wasting Salamandra's resources and not making much progress in demon + witchers stuff because of all that sexual tension in the air

and don't tell me that Kiyan and Fail Experiment don't look at least somewhat similar. also don't tell me about Ortolan, I don't care, I'm not read storms or whatever

instead let me tell you how Albrecht dies, because I love making up guys and then killing them silly, it just fucking works, so you know how the Order splits and whoever cares for fire stays with de Lowe and goes to build that totally-not-Malbork in Redania? yeah, so for whatever fucked up reason Order ends up being at war with Redania, and Siegfried ditches this fucking circus before that because clearly no one actually care for good-doing, and Al kinda ends up being in charge, and there's that whole siege of that castle, and now he's acting grandmaster and they're clearly gonna lose, but at this point, he's just so fucking lost, and then he summons something he shouldn't but is all so sure of himself, like 'we're in the chapel stupid demon, you can't do shit to me :D', but the demon is just laughing and goes 'fool, you don't worship the Fire, your faith is in JdA, but Jacques is no more, he was a mortal and now he's dead. Your god is dead and you have no power!' and then Albrecht just gets ripped apart. That would be sick! lowkey vibe of that Castlevania moment with lies? in the house of god? more likely than you think!

anyway one may ask, thirsty, marcin, my bro, what de fuck it has to do with Carla, and i don't know, it's work in progress and i never wrote that fucking Rissberg fic, but trpg has a chapter about demonology in the latest book, i didn't read it like all, because fuck reading and fuck trpg, but there's that mechanic that lets PCs bind the demon to themselves, and when you bind Bes and it gives like dexterity and shit like that, or claws, idc, anyway Greater Binding done by Carla, she's now fresh as ever after 400 years of girlbossing

#albrecht tag #rissberg

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em0avacado · 4 years ago

Text

They say

( Coco Cruz x Reader )

a/n : this is how i cope, don’t mind me, i’m just breaking my own heart.

trigger warnings : none i don’t think? except heart break, sadness. ends happy tho. i think. maybe.

word count : 2.4k

They say that, if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was meant to be, if it doesn’t? well you just couldn’t accept that. You’d poured every ounce of yourself into him, you’d told him all your fears, all your pet peeves, all your insecurities, because you trusted him. You’d accepted all his weird quirks, all the strange habits he had that you looked past, youd accepted him for who he was, as you do when you love someone as much as you loved him. You supported him, mentally and physically, from up close and from far away. You encouraged him, reminded him of little things he easily forgot, you told him every day how proud you were of him, how loved and appreciated he was.

He used to do the same for you, used to. But at some point, he began holding back, he stopped doing things he started doing to win you over. You used to have a list of pet names hed call you when he babied you, now it was just ‘baby’ if he was in a good mood, or [Y/N]. You noticed it as soon as it started, you noticed everything. You knew he was stressed so you didn’t want to push it, but you also know that “stressed” was a norm for Coco, so you couldn’t wrap your head around it entirely. He started coming home later, crashing on the couch in hopes of “not disturbing your sleep.” it sounded like an excuse to you, and it hurt. it really fucking hurt you.

At some point, you’d had enough of your boyfriend distancing himself like that, ignoring your feelings, ditching you when you needed him, you couldn’t live that way, you wouldn’t. So, when he came home, you’d waited up for him, sitting at the small kitchen table you both used to enjoy your breakfast on every Sunday, now it stood empty, with nothing but a stack of newspapers from the passing weeks piled on it. With a bit of liquid courage crashing against the rocks of ice as you swirled the brown liquid around in the cup, your eyes felt red with fire, and your cheeks were stained with few dried tears that rolled down your face as your mind came up with the worst possible results you could imagine, all to which, came true. With a jingle of his keys in the lock, you straightened your posture, looking at him.

“What’re you doing up?” he asked her, that same vacant look on his face.

“I wanted to talk”

“it can wait till morning.”

“it really can’t.” with that, she was met with utter annoyance, and an obnoxious scoff that made her blood boil.

“go on then.”

“you’ve distanced yourself, so hard. I barely see you. We don’t sleep in the same bed, I can’t remember the last time you touched me, hell, even looked at me like you used to. What’d I do?” that was your go to, blaming yourself. It’s how you dealt with the unexplained.

“Get off my ass, [Y/N].” He dismissed you, you watched as he pulled off his kutte, and settled into the couch. You kept your eyes on him, murder on your mind. God he irritated you, you wanted to take his neck between your hands and wring it. Maybe that’d breathe some sense into him, if you deprived him of oxygen a little. But you didn’t need another felony charge, you inhaled deeply, balling your fists, the sting of your nails digging into the palm of your hand bringing you back from picturing all the ways you’d brutally murder him, out of love, of course.

If you loved someone... you’d refrain from strangling them, you turned from the spot you stood, and headed into the bedroom. You did the breathing exercises your therapist had taught you, but they worked only slightly. You grabbed a duffel bag, and started shoving clothing into it, as much as you could, you pushed all the belongings you’d need the next few days, and zipped it up. Pulling on a hoodie, you tossed the bag over your shoulder, and headed out. You walked passed him without a word, when you went to grab your car keys, you did the only petty thing you’d let yourself, trying to be the better person, you hid every single key to everything you had, knowing how easily he lost keys, you’d help him, in your own favour, however.

You left, and you didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The mere thought of Coco made you tear up, and it didn’t help that every tiny thing made you think about the lost love that still caused your chest to feel like it was about to concave. This wasn’t natural, you hadn’t felt like this, you were the queen of bottling up emotions, and ignoring them so you didn’t feel the pain of anything. But as you lived and breathed, everything reminded you of him.

You were in the middle of a girls lunch date, it’d been weeks since your seen your girlfriends since you’ve been trying to isolate yourself trying to get over this man, in the midst of drinking mimosas on the balcony of one of those entirely too fancy restaurants, you were laughing at highschool memories of your best friend who would start fights in the halls because she was bored, it was then, when a roar of motorcycles sped past where you were sitting, and it threw you into a whirl wind of emotions.

“make sure you hold on tight, mamas. Wouldnt want you to fall off.” the smirk heard in Coco’s voice sent a chill down your spine, being too intimidated by any sort of physical contact, usually, you usually ease yourself into it, but with Coco? It was brash and sudden, he started the bike, and gave you maybe a millisecond to grab a hold on him.

A little squeal forced its way out of your mouth as you quickly grabbed onto him, gripping onto your own hands, clinging to him. You buried your face in his shoulder. You felt him chuckle, and wanted to knock him out right then and there, but perhaps that wasn’t the best idea. It took you a moment, but once you opened your eyes, and watched as buildings, cars, people, hills and piles of dirt passed you by, trees whipping by. You felt yourself calm, you felt at peace. The wind flipped through your locks of hair, his scent filling your senses.

“This isn’t that bad.” you heard yourself admit in a soft mumble, you shut your eyes and felt the wind attack your face, balancing your inner battles with yourself. You felt peace in Coco, he tamed your chaos, and you his. God, what you’d give to feel like this all the time, but you only felt it with him.

You felt your throat burn, your bottom lip lodged itself between your teeth, and you did your best to fight the rage that tinged your eyes with tears. Your friends saw this, noticing immediately, the emotion that washed over your face, paling your features and dimming a smile that brought them laughter that lasted for days. You’d always been the group clown, with the loudest laugh, the brightest smiles, you were the one they’d all turn to when they couldn’t hold themselves up. You were a force to be reckoned with, you fought their battles when they couldn’t even hold themselves up. You never failed to show up with booze and ice cream to heal broken hearts. You brought things that made you think of friends, you remembered the finest details and came through every time. You listened to the quietest ones, heard every story, laughed at the lamest jokes. Seeing you with tears streaming involuntarily down your face as you tried to hide it, wiping them as fast as they came, it broke their collective hearts. They looked at one another, an unspoken question “how do you skip to the part of the storm that sprouts the flowers when the rain stops?”

Your relationship with sleep was toxic, it came and went as it pleased, your eyes were sunken, it was three A.M. and you felt your thoughts running through your mind a million miles a minute. Your head in your hands as another memory floated to the surface.

Panic overwhelmed you, hearing something, or someone, rustling around the kitchen, you grabbed the gun you kept tucked under your mattress. You cocked it, and took the safety off, holding it out in front of you in a defensive position. You opened your creaking door, the noise working at your nerves as you creeped into the kitchen where the only thing that illuminated the dark room was the bulb from the old white fridge. You watched silently as the head ducked from inside the fridge, you found it peculiar, but all you saw was a figure in your home you didn’t know. Getting closer, you held the barrel of the gun to the head of the man that stood in your kitchen.

“Hands up, Foo. Before I blow your brains all over my backsplash.” You threatened, your voice tense, and you were met with laughter that was all too familiar. Furrowing your brows, you were still panicked, not thinking straight. You shifted the gun so the bullet that was about to fly, only ripped through his hair. The shot rang loud, causing Coco, who you didn’t know was Coco, to crash to the ground.

“Crazy bitch!” he shouted, you flicked on the light, still having the gun pointed at him. Your eyes widened quickly, the man on your floor was Coco, and now there was a bullet lodged into your ceiling. You could kiss your security deposit goodbye, fuck, and you just shot at Coco. You put the safety back on, and set it on your counter before going to help him. A few minutes passed before both of you sat in fits of laughter, him mocking your voice, your words.

Coco told you so many times that the night you nearly shot him in the head, was the night he fell for you entirely. Sure, he’d known you were the one way before that. That night, though, he knew he was in love with you. That night he swore he’d break past your barriers, he’d demolish how you saw yourself, he taught you to love you, he made you promises to show you love like no other, and to show you that you didn’t have to be afraid of either physical and emotional aspects of love. He did do exactly that, but then ripped it away from her. Leaving her heart with him, and her chest feeling heavy with nothing. Once again tears were brought to your eyes, you were thankful for his love, but without it? you wished you’d never had experienced it in the first place. Maybe you wouldn’t be hurting now.

You were brought out of your train of thought by the knocking on your door, furrowing your brows, you got up from your spot on the counter, where you were thinking of better times, you looked through the peephole and it felt like someone took a vacuum to your weak lungs. Coco. Struggling to breathe proper, you just intended on ignoring him, it was the first time in months youd seen him and you didn’t know if you could handle it. Your heart screamed at you to let him in, he looked beat up, tired, and one of his eyes was bandaged up, he looked broken. you wanted to embrace him, forget the distance, but your mind scolded you, reminding you of the progress youd made, bouncing back from the pain oh so slowly. This could set it all back. So you decided, you wouldn’t open the door. He’s a big boy. You silently turn on your heel, away from the door.

“I’m sorry.” you heard him rasp, and you froze in your spot, a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. “I know you’re there, I know you’re awake and I know you know it’s me. You have your kitchen light on, so I saw you stand on your toes to look through the peephole because you’re too short.” you cursed his observant ways, how well he knew you, like he had quirk notes tattooed on the back of his hand and read them like a bible. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice when you left, that I was too deep in my own world to see how me fading away for my own selfish needs was hurting you. I’m sorry I made it seem like I didn’t care, that it hurt you, I’m sorry that I made promises and broke them. I started thinking about things I never knew I wanted until you marched your stubborn self in my life and gave me a taste of a love that changed me. It scared the fuck out of me.”

That familiar burn of emotion lit up your head, and singed your chest. You let his words sink in, you couldn’t speak, not yet. Squeezing shut your eyes, you turned back to the door, setting your hand on the knob. You felt the door shift, like he’d gotten up from leaning his head against the poorly tinted wood. He got it, you could feel him prepare to walk away. If you love something, let it go. But Coco came back. He came back. You unlocked it, and turned the knob. Looking at him through sore eyes. “Running when you’re scared isn’t an option for me.” you said, defeat obvious in your voice. He stopped, turned to you and closed in quick. You pushed his hands away. “You can’t - You can’t just show me, tell me, and hold it to me that i shouldn’t shut you out, and i should trust you, and i should turn to you before anyone and anything else only to turn around and do that to me. You can’t do that and come running back.” you practically yelled at him, your voice shaking and raw.

“I know, I know I’m sorry.” he said, his hands dropping to his sides when you reached forward and yanked him in with all your might. The gesture was aggressive, sure. But pure.

“i’m sorry too.” you muttered, embracing him tightly.

—

tag list :

@queenbeered

@mayans-sauce

#coco x reader #coco cruz #mayans fanfic #mayans mc #fanfic #richard cabral

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breefarrow · 4 years ago

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how would you analyize or interpret the song walls?cause i‘ve heard a lot of people say it‘s a break up song as it‘s written in past tense and basically saying he‘s stronger now after a break up (maybe even from a toxic relationship), he‘s risen above it and it doesn‘t really sound like a love song about an ongoing romance, does it?

Hi anon this is going to be a long one bc there is no quick answer to this so just know you asked for this.

First let's get one thing straight the ones who claim Walls [the album in general] is a break up album are the "Rads" short for Radical Louies. Essentially they are toxic louies who once were a larry shipper [not even a real larrie] but now hate Harry bc their mad Louis hasn't gotten the same promo and solo opportunities Harry has and some how in their eyes that's Harry's fault. They don't see it was Syco trying to sabotage Louis and in no way is Louis being sabotaged Harry's fault. Rads try to twist the truth and believe Harry left Louis for fame so since they hate Harry they have twisted the meaning of Walls to in their head a break up from a toxic relationship. They also really want LT2 to be a HUGE SHADE break up album which is 100% not the case so don't believe their crap.

Tho I heard you may have sent this same ask to others [who probably ignored you] so there is a chance you are a rad trying to find out what larries believe. Either way if you are a confused larrie or an undercover rad you probably need this info that no one else will bother giving you the time of day to tell you but I myself thought why not I'll answer you.

Second Louis and Harry have been happily in love for 10 years and have not officially broken up. Yes they have had issues like any couple does but it did not stem from eachother their issues stemed from them being forcibly closeted, the stunt gfs and their labels thus their songs are not break up songs but songs about not being able to be free and forced to fake date others when all they want is to publicly be with the one they love.

Now that that is out of the way here's why Walls is about Louis loving one person and one person only since he was 18. I'm doing the whole album [minus TOU] bc it is impossible to state why Walls the song is not a break up song without mentioning the others like Too Young [which rads also claim as a break up song] bc the album as a whole paints the whole picture.

Bree's analysis on Walls

Kill My Mind:

You kill my mind, raise my body back to life and I don't know what I'd do without you now.

KMM is definitely the sexual song of Walls [not No Control type sexual but just we click right from the start sexual] It has the I just met you and we are figuring one another out vibe [both physically and just as people] and how right from the start Louis craves Harry and his attention. It has a similar vibe to Watermelon Sugar which Harry said is about the euphoria of falling in love and the way the other person makes you feel right from the start. Louis in KMM is saying I've just meet someone and they are now all I think about, crave and I don't know how I would be able to live without them.

Don't Let It Break Your Heart:

And I know you left apart of you in New York under your bed in a box, but your doing better.

Flashback to HS1 "Ever Since New York" seems like they both love to mention something happening in NY with their lover. We may never know what happened but it's always a funny coincidence when they mention the same places in their songs almost like their singing about the same situation.

Life gets hard and it gets messed up when you give so much, but it's not enough when the highs to high and the lows to low when you love somone and they let you go.

As I stated before their issues involved the stunts [fake dating women] so when Louis says love someone and they let you go he means when his lover gave into what they were being told to do for the sake of their careers. As young as they were when this all started it's hard not to think they may have fell for the lies being fed to them. So Harry let "Louis go" by being seeing with a ton of women gaining himself the brand of "lady's man" while also being forced to watch Louis be with someone else [Eleanor] and publicly act like that was the one he loved. Harry wrote the song Just a Little Bit of Your Heart which is a prime exactly of those feelings. Harry loves Louis so much but he only gets to love him privately while Eleanor gets to loves him publicly and as Harry wrote a little bit of your love is better then none.

Were driving down a one way road to something better. What hurts you is going to pass you'll be doing better.

This shows they know the pain all the bad things thrown their way won't stick around forever. They will overcome this and one day they will see the light at the end of the tunnel or the rainbow after the storm.

We Made It:

Cause we made it, Underestimated and always underrated. Now we're saying goodbye waving to the hard time yeah it's gonna be already.

Do I need to explain it I would say the title alone and this chorus makes it very clear. Break up who when where how? They had hard ships but NOT from their own doing. WMI is about how decpite all they were put through they made it. Flashback to Harry HS1 tour with Kacey in a rainbow dress at MSG in front of 36k people singing "[their/where] still together still going strong." They want you to know nothing will break them apart no matter how hard anyone tries. We are keeping the bad in the past and moving forward to a better tomorrow.

Share a single bed and tell each other what we dream about. Things we'd never say to someone else out loud.

This reminds me of their Xfactor days or early 1D tour days bc in 1D interviews it was always made clear they would share rooms and also how on the bus Louis bunk was filled with his junk so where did he sleep then? Also there are many former Xfactor contestants that have come out and said they were forced to be in the closet on the show. Flashback to an article claiming the people in charge of the 2010 Xfactor season tried to hide and keep a same sex couple apart wonder who that was? That line is about when they were young and the late nights they spent together wondering how their future was going to go. They were still just big smiles, wide eyed, oblivious young boys when they imagined only good things to come of the future with them and the band.

We were only kids just trying to work it out. Wonder what they'd say if they could see us now?/ Don't know why they put all of this on us when we're so young. Done a pretty good job dealing with it all.

We were only kids [when Louis fell in love with said person] and we're so young reminds me of Harry's song To Be So Lonely where he says "Don't blame me for falling I was just a little boy." They both mention falling in love at a young age and both mention how after all this time they are still just as in love as back then but just a little less naive/oblivious. They are both hinting at a higher person [their label/management] who didn't approve of their love and telling them it wasn't going to work out. Harry going you can't be mad at me I was only a boy and Louis going wonder what would happen if they saw us now meaning look we didn't let you win. They tried so hard to separate Louis and Harry but it didn't work and Louis wants us and THEM especially to know they are still very much together, they handled it as best at they could and they weren't going to let them keep Louis and Harry apart.

Meet you at your uni, cheap drink, drink em all night

This is what we call a stunt line to push a narrative. Harry does stunt songs [Carolina and Cherry] while Louis does stunt lines. This line is suppose to allude to the album being for Eleanor [bc she went to Manchester Uni] but the rest of the album is so clearly not for her. If this song was about a break up from Harry then why would they bother adding in a stunt line about Eleanor when the public story is El and Louis are happily still together with Louis planning to marry her? Unless Walls isn't a break up album and it's very loudly Louis declaring him and Harry are still happily together and they wanted to try and force the image that Louis is happily in love with Eleanor. Also funny how this album is gender neutral and has no she pronouns in it unlike Zayn's new album having she pronouns.

Too Young:

We were to young to know we had everything. Too Young, I wish I could've seen it all along. I'm sorry that I hurt you, darling, no we were to young

This song is all about how when Harry was only 16 and he was 18 [Louis himself saying the song is about meeting the one at 18] he was to young to realize he had the best lover he was ever going to have, he had it all. As I said before issues in songs = management/stunts and this is Illuding to how Louis let them minupulate them and do what it was they wanted aka stunting and forcing Louis to be with Eleanor and Harry have a "lady's image" since he was only 16 and Louis now looking back and realizing he should have fought harder. Louis at the time didn't realize how much all this would hurt Harry having to share Louis [once again Just a Little Bit of Your Heart is Harry's feelings about that] and its once he's older he realizes what he did to hurt the only one who he ever truly loved and it pains him to know he put his lover through that even if it wasn't Louis fault Harry went through that.

I've been looking back a lot lately me and you is all I've ever known. Oh I can't believe I gave in to the pressure. When they said a love like this would never last. I didn't know no better now I realize yeah I realize.

So similar to before he's saying Harry is all he's ever known and him giving in to the pressure was about agreeing to fake date Eleanor and allow them to be heavily closeted. Reflecting back on those days he regrets so much what he agreed to do. They said a love like this wouldn't last is their management/label not agreeing with them being together and how two boys in a boyband marketed towards young women won't last, they won't sell records as an out gay couple with Louis believing their lies for a bit and he now regrets ever thinking they were right. This is a reflection song of not understanding what he had when he was so young but he sees it clearly now and he will never let THEM win he loves Harry and won't ever let him go ever.

Walls:

These high walls, they came up short now I stand taller then them all. These high walls never broke my soul and I watched them all come fallin down for you.

The high walls he refers to is all the assholes who tried to break him, break Harry and tried to ruin his career out of spite. This is towards the ones who told him they would never succeed being as they are a committed gay couple. Louis for a time believed them when they said their love wouldn't last, no one will want to listen to their music as a gay couple but eventually he realized they were wrong and those walls he had up filling him with doubt and insecurities were broken down. He allowed his "high walls" to come down because Harry was worth the effort it took to bring them down.

So this one is a thank you for what you did to me. Why is it that thank you's are often bittersweet? I just hope I see you one day and you say to me, Oh.

This is what one calls a metaphor he does not mean a physical person he means the walls he had up for a long time making him feel so insecure bc of how some of the people around him that made him feel so worthless crushing his spirt for so long. The metaphorical person he is thanking for helping him become the person he is today is the wall he broke down. The hardships he dealt with when he was younger got him to where he is today.

For every question why you were my because

Why am I still fighting?

Why have I not given up yet?

The because to his question is his lover HERE is where he directly refers to his lover. Harry is someone who is worth fighting for and will always be one of the reasons he hasn't stopped fighting. He loves Harry more then anything and will fight until the day he can publicly hold his hand, publicly post pictures of them together, publicly go on dates and publicly declare his love for him.

Habit:

You're the habit that I can't break, you're the feeling I can't put down, you're the shiver that I can't shake, you're the habit that I can't break, you're the high that I need right now.

Written over and over throughout the song these are some of the most important lines he wrote about Harry. It's Louis way of saying even if he wanted to, even if it would be easier for him and Harry he can never let him go. Harry's version of this is in Adore You when he sings "You don't have to say you love me, you don't have to say nothing and you don't have to say you're mine. I'd walk through fire for you just let me adore you like it's the only thing I'll ever do." Harry is saying even if publicly you can never say you love me I know you do and I will do anything for you because I am madly in love and could never let you go. They both would go through hell along side each other then being partially happy and the other not being by their side. Harry is the only one he ever wants to spend his life with and no matter what hardships they are put through there is no scenario where being without each other is a better alternative.

I took some time 'cause I've ran out of energy of playing someone I heard I'm supposed to be but honestly, I don't have to choose anymore

The line of all lines he took time away bc he was tired of the facade of faking what makes him happy, faking loving some girl, faking being anything but himself. He's back now and knows without a doubt who he is and is proud of it. No more confusion, no more lies he loves a curly haired dimpled boy and no one will tell him he can't love him. Harry's version of this is the chorus of Lights Up "All the lights couldn't put out the dark, runnin' through my heart. Lights up and they know who you are, know who you are. Do you know who you are? Shine step into the light, shine so bright sometimes, shine I'm not ever going back." They both tell you they have figured out whi they are and are very proud of who they have become and no one will tell them they can't be anything but themselves. They WILL scream it out loud and proud letting everyone know who they love one day [as if 16 and 18 year old H&L didn't already do that.]

And it's been ages, different stages come so far from Princess Park. I'll always need ya in front of me, in front of me

Oh the line that shocked every larrie I know. When he first sang this song and we first heard this line at a live concert everyone was shocked because we all knew what their was only one meaning to it. It was such a drastic line that the Elounors tried to claim he sang Starbuck [until the official lyrics came out.] Princess Park is the name of the apartment/flat complex all of the 1D boys lived in after the Xfactor BUT Niall, Liam and Zayn had their own apartment/flat while Louis and Harry shared one and they always made it very clear to everyone they met that they lived together.

So in a love song Louis sings about how him and his lover have come so far since their Princess Park days and his lover will always be the one he needs. Putting Harry's fav love song Sweet Creature plus Louis line about his lover together it would read " And, oh, we started two hearts in one home, come so far [since] princess park. I'll always need you in front of me. Wherever I go you bring me home" you do the math here. Their lyrics sink up just as much as their tattoos do.

Always You:

I went to Amsterdam without you and all I could do was think about you and oh-oh-oh I should've known

The Amsterdam line one of those lines that can be fact checked and proven to not be for Eleanor. So Louis took Eleanor to Amsterdam for her birthday at a gay bar no less back in July/August of 2017. Then a week or two later wrote the song Always You leaking a snippet of it to us where the lines of him singing about how he went to Amsterdam without his lover and his lover was all he could think about were heard. If he went with Eleanor then clearly that isn't his lover but we know this. Fast forward 2020 Walls comes out and we FINALLY hear the full song of Always You.

Louis said he only put the song on the album because the fans wanted it but if it was just because of us and the song wasn't THAT important to him why did he leak those lines back in 2017 that could easily be fact checked that the lover he sings about isn't Eleanor? It's like he wanted us to know it's not for Eleanor this line is important. So the fact that almost 3 years later he still put the song out shows the song means a lot to him and even in 2020 the meaning of the song still resonates with him and how it will Always be THIS one person that means everything to him. Funny though how his loudest, easily fact checkable songs [to not be about Eleanor] are the ones he downplays the most about importance to him.

I went to Tokyo to let it go. Drink after drink, but I still felt alone I should've known

When it comes to this song the Amsterdam line is Louis speaking [because he went to Amsterdam without Harry] while the Tokyo line is Harry speaking [because Harry went to Tokyo without Louis] and after Harry came back from Tokyo, Japan Louis was seen wearing a ton of new clothes from Japanese clothing brands. This is both of them saying I may be in a wonderful new place but it's not the same without you here. They are sad and alone and would rather be with each other then traveling around the world.

I'm wastin' my time when it was always you, always you. Chasin' the high, but it was always you, always you

I think this is self explanatory he sees no reason to even think about being with someone else because he knows without a shadow of doubt [thinks he always knew deep down] it was always Harry. There was never going to be anyone else for him but Harry.

I went from LAX to Heathrow. Walked through my door, but it felt nothing like home cause you're not home. Waiting to wrap your legs around me

LA and London are their two main residences and places they tend to go back and forth a lot. When he "goes home" if Harry is not there Louis feels as though it doesn't really feel like home because home to Louis is wherever Harry is. They can travel all around the world, meet a ton of new people but no place and others will ever make them feel fully satisfied unless their lover is by their side.

Fearless:

Cashin your weekend treasures, for a suit and time a second wife. Now I'm not saying that you could have done better just remember that I, I've seen that fire alight.

The first line is a nod to the industry itself and how to get your "weekend tresures" [be famous and earn a lot of money] you have to put up a fake facade, acting and looking the way they want you to because in their eyes if you are not the conventional person Hollywood wants they believe you will not make them the money they desire because we all know they only care about money nothing else. At a cost of the real them they must put on a fake smile, go out there sing doing nothing unconventional and they will get money and fame.

The second line yes they are happily together and Louis doesn't want or believe Harry will find someone else but he has seen Harry when all of this gets to be to much and when Harry puts up a facade of I've never had an issue with all of this Louis reminds him that I've seen you when your not fine, it's ok to not always be fine and I am here for you when things are not rainbows and sunshine.

Tell me do you still remember feeling young? And strong enough to get it wrong in front of all these people? Just for tonight, look inside and spark that memory of you.

Refering back to Xfactor and early 1D days he's asking Harry if he remembers those days together back when they hadn't really gone through hardships yet and all the strength they had during their youth willing to take on the world together. He's asking him to bring that strength back and remember the younger version of himself. He's asking him to not give up because the younger him wouldn't want him to. It's been 10 years and they are still fighting, fighting as hard as they did when they were merely teenagers not knowing what lied ahead but wer happy as long as it meant they had each other in the end.

Now if happiness is always measured by the life we design, the car on the drive then you should feel better then ever but you know as well as I it's all lies.

This line speaks volumes as stated before with Fearless we have references to the industry and even just life in general. From the outside looking in they got money, fame, material things, they have it all and if deciding who is more happy in life was based on those things then they would win but Louis is telling Harry we both know that isn't the case. The industry isn't sunshine and rainbows, they treat people like shit and strip away everything about a person if they don't think their real self will sell. They only want to make a profit off them and don't care about how they feel about any of it. Everything is a lie the truth must be counseled.

Perfect Now:

You say to me your jeans don't fit, you don't feel pretty and it's hard to miss. I wish you could see my point of view as someone staring back at you.

This song is personally underrated to me I love this song. This song is so uplifting when you are feeling insecure and negative about yourself. Louis personally had a certain curly haired boy in mind when he wrote this. He's talking about Harry's insecurities with himself and Louis wishes Harry could see things from his view and how amazing and perfect Harry is to him.

Cause everybody is looking at you now. I guess some queens don't need a crown and I know why. Even when your tears are following now still someone, you're perfect now.

One of those it's definitely not for Eleanor moments. We all know [especially during fine line era] everyone was talking about Harry, knows his name and eyes turn to him when he walks in the room. Louis is so proud of Harry and is happy everyone else sees what he sees but Harry doesn't always see what others see in him and during those times where he is not already Louis is saying I will be right there with you. I am with you through the good and the bad because even when tears are running down his face Harry is still perfect to Louis.

Cause you're the only one when it's said and done. You make me feel like being someone good to you. Even at your worst you steal the scene.

No matter where life takes them, no matter how hard it gets Louis is reassuring Harry he will always be there by his side. At the end of it all when the final act is over and the curtain is closeting he will still be there because there will never be anyone else he wants to be next to at the end of all of this. Louis looks into Harry's eyes he watches all he does and is intrance wanting nothing more then being the one to be there when he is down and always being the who makes the pain go away even if for a moment.

Defenseless:

I hate to say, but I do we're sleeping on our problems like we'll solve them in our dreams. We walk up early morning and they're still under our sheets.

*Sigh* this is reality setting in things aren't perfect. In their line of work, being who they are, being a closeted gay couple things aren't going to be perfect 100% of the time. Most of the time they would rather ignore all the shit they are forced to indure but Louis realizes just ignoring it all won't make it go away he will wake up each morning next to Harry knowing those issues will always be around by neither fault of their own. He hopes one day they will get to be a happily open couple who posts pics online, goes out on public dates and gets to live the domestic life they always wanted but right now that just isn't their reality. Their reality is I can only look at you for more then 5 seconds or touch you when no one is around to notice.

Been up all night, all night running my lines but it's only the truth. Been up all night not sure how to say this right got so much to loose. / You just keep on building up your fences but I've been so defenseless.

Another metaphor here Louis wondering how to bring this up to Harry and not upset him. The last thing Louis ever wants is for him to be the reason Harry has a frown upon is wonderful face. Harry is more the one to bottle up and ignore the negative things while Louis is the more practical one and he knows he has a ton to loose [Harry and his love] if he doesn't go about this situation right.

No you don't have to keep on being strong for you and me acting like you feel no pain I know you do. And I can't get inside your head when you're lost in your pride but you don't have a thing to prove.

Harry is the one who bottles up his pain, puts on the fake smiles, and makes everyone believe he is perfectly fine. He acts like he can handle what he is forced to indure 100% of the time but Louis sees through that and just wants him to open up more. He knows Harry feels just as much pain as he does and wishes he wouldn't hide it and pretend everything is always fine. Louis wants to be able to help Harry through the pain and to let know he will always be there for him no matter what so don't pretend your always fine just to make others around him, make Louis feel better.

I hope I'm not asking to much just wanna be loved by you. And I'm to tired to be tough just wanna be loved by you.

Louis is tired of pretending, wishes everyone understood, wishes what he is asking for wasn't to much. All he wants is to be loved by Harry and live the domestic life he always invisioned with Harry and no one else but his live is not that simple.

Only The Brave:

Pour mercy, mercy on me, set fire to history. I'm breaking my own rules, I'm crying like a fool. It's a church of burnt romances and I'm to far gone to pray. It's a solo song and it's only for the brave.

I'm sure you understand Louis is gay but if you didn't this line right here is all you need to understand that. No straight man is going to write or sing those lines. He's gone down a path of self discovery and figuring himself out he knows he is and he is to far gone to turn back now but he has no desire to even if he could turn back. He is proud of who he is and doesn't care what anyone else thinks of him.

If the truth tell, darling, you fell, like their ain't enough dying stars in your sky. It's a tell tale and it's only hello, hello, no goodbyes.

It's only hello no goodbyes meaning the confusion, the is this for life between Louis and Harry questions are gone. They aren't turning back, they aren't saying goodbye, they are only saying hello to what lies ahead. The truth is clear, their story is clear, they fell for one another and Harry metaphorical speaking fell for Louis in a way where his star shines brighter then ever just by being with him.

Pour mercy, mercy on me, I'll fall upon my knees and they'll say, I told you so come on when you know you know. All the lonely shadows dancing from the cradle to the grave.

When you know you know they knew right from the start it's me and you until the end. Some won't agree but in the end that does not matter to Louis because he only cares about Harry being by his side. He will not apologize for falling in love he loves who he loves and that is it.

We Made It Directors Cut MV:

If the lyrics alone don't tell you the full story then the music video mini movie should. It sums up everything I explained. Louis being forced to do things he doesn't want, it effecting his relationship to the point their drowning [Harry in Falling MV] but manage to survive. Louis lover never speaking but the girl with ties to the evil one in charge does until eventually Louis breaks free from the man in charge controlling him and Louis finally gets to run away with his lover because he made sure they would make it in the end.

Ending:

Walls is about self discovery, learning to overcome your insecurities "breaking down your walls" no matter how hard it may be and Louis understanding he met the one at 18 and how Harry will always be worth fighting for, THEY will always be worth it bc they knew even as young as they were they were going to get married, have kids and grow old together. So you still want to tell me how any song on Walls is about a break up or Louis moving on from Harry because I certainly don't see it. Walls is Louis perspective on their 10 year relationship and his support and love towards Harry if you want Harry's perspective and his support and love toward Louis you would have to dive into HS and FL but that's a whole other analysis.

They have not given up on each other even if at times it would have been easier they didn't so I will never give up on them. They continue to fight I have been in this fandom supporting them for 10 years watching their continous fight and I will be here another 10 years supporting them if that is how long it takes for them to get the life they knew they wanted when they were only 16 and 18.

#larry is still together going strong #walls lyric analysis #walls is not a break up album #larry is and always will be real #louis #harry #larry stylinson

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rachelbethhines · 4 years ago

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Rapunzel’s Return Part 2

Continuing on from part 1 -

https://rachelbethhines.tumblr.com/post/635068926214258688/tangled-salt-marathon-rapunzels-return-part-1

Summary: When Rapunzel tries to defeat the Saporians by herself she gets captured; but once Varian realizes that the Separatists plan on using one of his potions' destructive properties to destroy Corona, he and Rapunzel work together to stop it.

Let’s Talk About What a Let Down the Sapiorans Are

Throughout seasons one and two the Sapiorans were built up to be this intriguing race of people with a complex past and real problems that are sadly relatable to this day. They had a history, goal, motives, and special abilities like magic.

Yet all we got was a really bad hipster parody.

Heck, the crew can’t even keep it’s stereotypes right because they mostly slide into hippy territory instead. Hipsters, Yuppies, and Hippies are three distinctive counter culture movements for three different generations with completely different social concerns and fads.

Basically Chris tried to “stick it to the kids” again and just wound up insulting his parents' generation instead because he’s that oblivious of other human beings.

And that’s not even taking into account that previously the Sapiorans were living on the run as nomads in caravans not dissimilar to common Romani stereotypes, so the show is once again making negative racial connotations due to thoughtlessness.

Why Do You Have a Secret Underground Room Hidden Behind Your Workshop Xavier?

Like that not a thing normal people happen to have lying around there workspace. We still are given zero explanation for why Xavier has all this plot convenient knowledge and rare unordinary plot useful stuff.

Given his previous connection to Saporia and Zhan Tiri wouldn’t it not have made more sense to reveal that he is an actual plot important character in season three rather than keep him as just the exposition fairy?

So Was This Before or After the Saporian Take Over? Cause Either Answer Makes This a Dumb Plan.

Why would the guards, especially Cap, just give up? Did they even bother fighting and then lost to Varian’s weapons or were they told to stand down by a brainwashed Frederic? If they knew something was wrong then why not stay and help? What makes them think they even could find Rapunzel given how no one knew where she was heading and her letters were infrequent? What difference would they think finding Rapunzel would do?

Basically, just like with the “former cellmate” line, we needed to actually set up and establish this conflict rather than relying solely on exposition dumps. Because what we get here doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It goes against established character and leaves a lot of unanswered plot holes.

More Promotion of Authoritarianism From the Show

Remember that these are the same people who formed a lynch mob to hunt down a fourteen year old all because the king told them to. The same king who had been lying to them for years and placed their lives and homes in danger for months. The same king who persecuted the poor and orphans for years. Him suddenly sending townsfolk to the mines isn’t anything new, so what are these people’s breaking points? Anyone else would have revolted by now.

But noooo, they need Rapunzel to do it for them. Cause Rapunzel is royalty and they can’t do anything without royal permission because they’re sheep. Sheep that’s been subjugated for years and conditioned to be afraid of their “beloved ruler”.

I understand from a meta point of view why you would want your main character to take charge but...

Like this isn’t inspiring.

It’s disturbing.

Why are we promoting blind loyalty to a person who’s not earned it just because they were born special? In a freakin’ kids show no less!

Oh and still no one bothers to call out King Frederic’s abuses here, FYI.

Take Note That Quirineon is Activated By Heat

This will be important later on in the review.

He’s Already Built Grenades For You. Wouldn’t Those Be Better Because They’re Easier to Control?

He’s already built explosive chemicals for you. You just used them in part one of the episode. And it came in an easy to use form rather than an unstable, and untested, mess that could literally blow up in your faces since no one, not even Varian himself, knows how to control it yet.

You Don’t Hammer Out a Cast Iron Pan

It’s literally in the word. To make a cast iron pan you pour the metal into a casted mold. You don't hammer it out like you would with a sword or something. And you can’t even go with the “rule of cool” here cause Rapunzel surrounded by molten metal and fire would have been far more impressive looking.

Yes I’m being picky cause I’m stalling. I don’t care. This is just yet another instance of the crew not paying attention to details like they should.

Behold The Final Time Eugene Will Ever Call Out Rapunzel’s BS

This is the last time Eugene will hold an honest discussion with Rapunzel like an equal to her. By the end of this episode he will have transitioned into full on doormat mode.

Also burying negative feelings and not addressing issues is who Rapunzel is. She’s been pulling this shit since day one. It’s what causes 90% of the conflicts in the show. Have you not noticed Eugene?

So This Episode Has Contradictory “Lessons”

The episode presents this idea that Rapunzel needs to open up to others and trust again after Cassandra’s betrayal. The problem is that the episode doesn’t follow through on that. It makes a knee-jerk decision to go with a “responsibility” lesson that wasn’t built up to instead at the last minute.