Crazy birb couple is on a quest to adopt all the birbs.

I don’t even have the words to describe just how amazing this fic is. If you haven’t read it, give yourself a treat and do so.

*nervous laughter*

The One Where I Slept With My Boss

         There’s no need for an affirmation, Eren already knows but once those three words are uttered, they are final. There’s no taking them back, no turning back time, no chance of pretending like none of this has happened. He’d dumbfounded, exhausted, maybe there’s even a hint of desperation creeping in as he keeps his gaze away from the other man. Tries to figure out the consequences, tries to find a way to deal with them and fix this. He’s never been in a situation like this, no matter how sovereign he can be at times, this is still something he has no solution for. At least not right away.          He remains silent long enough for Marco to continue and those words make a frown blossom on his face. There’s no way to hide the bewilderment when his eyes snap back to him right away, eyebrows cocked. It’s no way what he’s expected, can’t even believe his luck, doesn’t believe his luck. There has to be a downside to all of this. Maybe Marco is going to ask about more money in exchange for his silence, maybe he wants something else like better work conditions or he wants- to make sure that Eren is all right.          Eren’s heart skips a beat.

         “Well”, he drawls after a moment of hesitation (and after getting his heart back under control) and sits up a little straighter. “It’s good to know that you’re familiar with our policies of keeping the staff’s  private lives private and not letting them interfere with your work.” He inwardly cringes at his words. They’re perfect, considering he’s the CEO of the company, but for him as a person – and probably for Marco too – they’re nothing but cold and dismissive. His face betrays him, though, there’s caution and uncertainty in his eyes.

It hurts, just a little. Marco wonders what he had been expecting (some sweet-talking, some cutesy words of recognition and affection, maybe?) But he also knows this is all he will get from Eren--Mr. Jaeger, his boss, and nothing more. He knows dwelling on the one night together will only bring confusion and awkwardness. He knows Eren treasures his job, and his work integrity above all things, even his own personal life.

Marco doesn't know what he had expected. Even then, the dismissal still hurts.

And even though he told himself not to think about it, Marco's mind still goes to that mind in the bar. Their easy banter in between drinks, the comfortable atmosphere between them. There had been no pretense then.

He'd been stupid, thinking a few little words of concern would change anything. 

He clears his throat, leans forward on his seat so he can gather all the documents he brought in. "It was uncalled for, sir. I apologize," he says, averting his eyes because he doesn't think he can look at Eren in the eyes right now without betraying his concern for the other man. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must keep working on these reports. Good evening, sir."

Stiffly, Marco gets up from his seat, making the mistake of meeting Eren's eyes as he does so. Something tugs at his heart, and without thinking Marco blurts out, "I'll be in my office, all night. In--in case. I am needed, I mean." It's not like he thinks something could happen between them anymore--Eren has made that very clear--but the look in Eren's eyes Makes Marco stop, slow down, and give the other the benefit of the doubt. 

The fear in Eren's eyes. That is the look of a man who has everything to lose. 

  ‘Marco Bodt’s lucky day.’   [X]

Edgar Allan Poe (via mookkyul)

Kate Morton, The Secret Keeper (via wordsnquotes)

A picture of Marco from SNK:The Real exhibition. This is traumatizing…(ಥ_ಥ)

just in case you needed your heart broken from another angle

Neil Gaiman, Trigger Warning: Short Fictions and Disturbances  (via aercis)

Start of Something Good

Was it possible for a fictional creation to have his own line of peeves? Apparently so. Marco’s lying. So obvious with the way he dismisses whatever was on his mind, a habit that he belittles his own thoughts and concerns — says that they don’t matter. It matters enough that it’s shifted the mood entirely, Jean might be calloused and rough around the edges, but he’s not blind or unfeeling. It’s an insult to his intelligence that Marco believes ( or perhaps just hopes ) he’ll buy that when this is what has become of their morning.

Marco nods.

Suddenly eye contact is a very heavy thing, and so he avertshis eyes and moves off Jean to sit on the couch, tightly wound into a ball withhis knees pressed against his chest. He makes himself as small as possible. “Um—sure,” he says, because this silence is stifling and Marco could drown in it if he lets it. “I’ll just—“

He makes a flourish with his hand. He’s got nothing.

He wonders when trusting others became such a difficult thing.

While Jean is gone, Marco takes the opportunity to reread his old writing. There are pages and pages of the stuff—writing sessions done during sleepless nights, or during break, or to distract himself from the fact that the central heating broke. All of them feature Jean in some form—Jean taking Mark on a date; Jean slowly making love to Mark; Jean defending Mark from thugs to want to take Mark’s money.

As he reads, he realizes. This Jean, the one on the pages, it’s all wrong. His eyes don’t shine with mischief the way his Jean’s does. Marco didn’t get Jean’s smirk right—how could he possibly describe the way his stomach flutters and his heart thumps when Jean is around? Or the way his hair feels when Marco runs his fingers through it? Or recreate the breathy sighs he lets out when Marco has him in his mouth.

How could he ever think Jean—his Jean, the one currently in their shared bathroom—could ever be Marco’s? Jean is his own person now, regardless of the circumstance surrounding his entry into this world. As he has shown many, many times, he has a mind of his own, and one Marco has trampled over many times in his haste to get a taste of him.

When Jean leaves the shower, Marco decides to offer breakfast again. Instead, something entirely different leaves his lips.

“If I found a way to take you back to the book—would you take it?”

Jean is his own person; Marco can give him at least this much.

Once upon a time, I wanted to make a short doujin thing about a what if Marco was actually alive and was a titan shifter.  I never got to finish it, sadly, but I didn’t want it to rot in my drafts either, so here it is folks!  I hope you enjoy. :’D

Read from right to left

Bonus:

JeanMarco Week, day 3: Homecoming