#A LITTLE RAINBOW SET FOR HIM TO BRING SOME COLOR INTO HIS LIFE

[userjoel]

LEE JAE WOOK as JANG UK in ALCHEMY OF SOULS: LIGHT AND SHADOW // 2.01

[docwritesshit]

A Night to Remember

Blurb: Fluffy star gazing date with the sillies

Word count: 618

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: Ninerosejack

Authors note: I finished season one of nuwho with a friend and I am unwell. This was written as I was watching the last three episodes of the season as well so haha….. that was trip

Anyways, enjoy

To be entirely fair to the Doctor, traveling through space and time to deal with various world-ending threats did not leave a lot of room for a love life. And he didn't even mean to get one, he stumbled into it. Or fell into it. He wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to get one with these two but one he had. And love life meant dates.

He wished there was a sun blowing up right now. He would know what to do then at least.

“Oh Doctor, take a breath. It’s just us.” Jack tried to reassure him, patting him on the back. The Doc rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the way his hands twitch and pick at his nails. The TARDIS was stationed, both Rose and Jack were by the door and all that was left was to walk through. And go on a date.

Was it too late to cause a nuclear war between planets-

The way Rose and Jack tugged on his hands and intertwined his fingers with theirs made it apparent it was, in fact, too late. But he let them lead him out the door.

He raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. He knew they were in charge of everything, but he did find it a bit odd that they chose somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and it was a bit more on the chilly side for his liking.

Rose led him to lay down on a ratty blanket, smiling sweetly as she sat next to him

”I know, seems a little basic for a group that can travel through space and time. But-“

Jack popped up from behind them both, brandishing a covered silver platter.

”Our life is anything but basic. So in a backwards sense, we thought it would be a bit more exciting”

Doc looked between the two with a small smile, shaking his head.

”Is that it? Can’t say I mind though.”

He looked up at the stars, smiling at the sight.

”I quite like the view of stars over most anything else.”

A wine glass appeared in his vision.

”Would some liquor of the gods make it better?”

Doc took the glass.

”Perhaps.”

Rose chuckled at the sight, taking her own glass from Jack as he finally set the silver platter down. Doc scoffed at the spread his partner prepared.

”Did you really bring only drinks to this?” He inquired. Jack shrugged, taking a swig from his glass.

“Did not know what ya liked. So I thought a bit of everything was a safe bet.”

Doc smiled, taking a drink of his own wine and spitting it out immediately.

”Yeah, good plan. Could I have that martini instead?”

With a new beverage in hand, Jack landed right next to The Doctor, shamelessly wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him in closer. Rose sighed and followed suit, snuggling into Doc’s other side with her head on his shoulder, sipping her own wine.

Doc tried to relax. He felt Rose take his hand again, Jack kissing the side of his head. He heard the sound of crickets in the background, felt the blanket underneath him. He was right here.

Jack nudged him, grinning before glancing back up to the sky. Doc followed his gaze and blinked, chuckling again. Rose smiled, looking up herself.

”Well, it couldn’t be all that basic, now could it?” Jack pointed out. Doc laughed, leaning more into him.

”No, not with you lot.”

They all smiled as they witnessed the night sky light up in a small rainbow of colors, the rays streaking through the night. Doc held both of his companions tighter.

”Though I never am basic either.”

[koishua]

moments like these: park jay

requested by: @kdyism here | wc: 0.737k | fluff, idol!au

he is your jay and he hopes that he will forever remain as yours.

i hope you like this, yunn!! i finished record of youth and was in my celebrity au feels :') i forgot how in love i was with jay haha

reblogs and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!

the sun sets the room in a warm glow, casting hues of orange and gold. the glasses you’d enjoyed sipping on a cool lemonade in catch a few streams of light, colors of the rainbow refracted onto the coffee table. lounging on the sofa is a drowsy jay clad in a pair of comfortable pajamas (a white t-shirt and dark red sweatpants, really).

the scene on the screen of the laptop resting on the table is paused with you taking a quick break to fill up your bowl with some more popcorn. you had been watching one of jay’s favourite dramas again from the very beginning and even from the kitchen, you can hear him grumbling about how you’d chosen to pause at the worst possible moment in between the action.

“oh, stop pouting. i’m coming.” so used to his antics, you could almost see the way he rolls his eyes at your remark. 

pausing the timer right before the microwave hit zero, you pull out the fresh bach of popcorn. once you’d filled up the bowl, you moved merrily into the small, yet cozy, living room, plopping down next to your adorably unhappy jay. 

your jay. it still feels unreal as he smiles brightly at your return, thanking you for the snack and wrapping an arm around your frame to bring you in closer, resting his cheek on your head. this moment, and every other moment leading up to this very one, is everything you’d ever desired and more. this sense of peace and safety, warmth and comfort– you’ve never been more relaxed (never felt more loved) in your life. and it all had started with him.

your jay.

vincenzo plays on in the background as you seek for the hand he’d decided to rest around your waist, drawing small circles over his skin as you relish in his presence. you can feel his smile eventually growing wider as the clock ticks on, tightening his hold on you to pulls you impossibly closer. he flips his hand around to lace his fingers through yours, still not saying a word, his eyes trained on the show. it doesn’t last long, however, because fatigue starts catching up to him from the busy week’s activity.

you close the laptop when his hand slowly slips out of yours, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. your small adjustment stirs him instantly awake, though, so you chuckle affectionately and lay back against the soft arm of the couch, the furniture barely long enough to accommodate his height. your jay hums contently, still half-sleep while you pull the thin sheet over your shoulders.

you’re facing each other and through your awe at how calm and beautiful he looked whilst battling against sleep, trying to stay awake for a little longer fro your sake, you spot a lash on his cheek. gently brushing a finger over his skin makes him smile, leaning into your touch.

moments like these are what he cherishes the most. for jay, it’s just being next to you (so close), that makes everything worth it. the nightly escapades with pulled hoods and inconspicuous face masks as to not be recognized, the secret rendezvous at hidden locations just so you could see each other again– heading directly to your place any time he gets the chance despite his packed schedules that often times clashed with your during the day, so the only chance you could see each other were well after darkness had settled. moments like these made everything worth it.

too bad he only had this one day off for the next two weeks. he would miss having you by his side terribly. 

he sighs, lazily throwing an arm over your side. “why can’t we stay like this forever?”

you can’t give him an answer (he knows it already and he knows that you know it as well). this was something you’d both discussed about early into your relationship, building the foundation at which your strong bond and understanding of each other (for each other) stood. no words need to be said as he tilts his head to press a tender kiss on your temple.

this moment would not last long, so you do everything you can to make it worth a long while and because it’s jay (your jay), it’s easy to just be happy.

taglist no. one: @junityy @jeonqquk @iuwon @envirae @i-luvsang @rae-blogging @enhyseob @jitaros @jdyunvrs @kdyism @yourlocalhotgf @strwberrydinosaur @mark-lees-world @99outros @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @tyongishs @yutaalove @yangianwon @icywhatim @sunshine-skz @sooblvr @whoe-dis @thegracerammy @injanggarden @90sni-ki @wccycc @sunfics @woo-minhee02 @yyxy27 @jaeyuncult @bigsobforskz @daystiny @soobin-chois @jaysbestie @ni-kiii @jungwonerz @sunoosbestie @95sjcc @ja4hyvn @ant-ton-ya @blushlin @stealanity @pshflrts @norifilms @uhmkatt-blog

[practically-an-x-man]

22 for Lars/Jimmy?

Ooooh thank you!!

22. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au Send Me a Ship and a Number and I'll Write a Short Fic

Oh, and Jimmy's a human in this one, not a ghost XD

____ 'Till Death Do Us Part

Word Count: 1.1k Content Warnings: None really, just a simple meet-cute

Crossposted on AO3 ____

Lars wandered the reception, a half-filled plate of food balanced in his hand. None of it looked particularly appetizing - too... prissy, too fancy, he'd have given anything for a normal ham and cheese sandwich instead of dressed-up wedding food right about now.

They'd really gone all out for this whole getup, and he'd never understood it. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy weddings, not as a concept, but he'd never felt the need to blow thousands of dollars on some flashy blowout when it all would be reduced to holiday cards and semi-forgotten anniversaries in a few years. In his mind, weddings should've been left as a symbol of love for the people involved, maybe a few close friends to share the memory, not some overblown status symbol that cost more than half its guests made in a year.

And he couldn't find a seat.

The only thing worse than being forced to eat prissy food in an expensive suit, he thought, was not being able to eat prissy food in an expensive suit because he couldn't find a place to sit. One of life's many little paradoxes. Lars Pinfield was not a fan.

He finally spotted an empty seat amidst all the extravagant chaos, and beelined straight for the table. He stopped himself just in time, one hand on the back of the chair, and glanced at the dark-haired man already seated in the next space over.

"This seat taken?"

"Go ahead." the young man replied with a dimpled grin, "Played musical chairs and wound up at the delinquents' table, huh?"

"The delinquents' table?" Lars echoed distantly, sliding into the chair and setting his plate of hors d'oeuvres on the table in front of him. There were no place markers set out - something about the bride and groom wanting their families to "mingle", though most of the guests had defaulted to the familiar anyway.

"Sure," the stranger said with a good-natured shrug, and gestured at the other spaces around the table, "Reserved for punk nephews, the wine aunt who probably shouldn't have access to the open bar..."

He waved a hand at himself and grinned.

"....The bride's one gay cousin," he said, then gestured at Lars, "And friends-of-friends-of-friends looking for a seat. All the guests they don't remember inviting. Ah- I wouldn't eat the deviled eggs. Those are my Aunt Mary's."

"What's wrong with them?" Lars asked, bewildered, an egg pinched between his thumb and forefinger. They'd seemed like about the only normal food on the catering table, half-hidden amidst quince canapés and pâté crostini and other foods with far too many accent marks in their names.

"Glaucoma. You've got about a thirty percent chance that orange powder on top is actually paprika and not cinnamon. Dunno about you, but that's not a risk I'd take."

"Right." Lars muttered, and set the deviled egg back down on his plate. The other man shot him half a smile, a dimple creasing one cheek, then crossed one leg over the other and peered out at the meandering crowd around them. He was dressed in a navy pinstripe suit, a red handkerchief in his left breast pocket bringing a splash of color down his chest. His tie was the same shade of red, though his tie clip was banded in an bright eight-striped rainbow. He seemed to catch Lars' eyes lingering on it an extra moment.

"My cousin had the gall to tell me not to dress 'too gay' for the wedding," he said, and twisted his wrists to show off matching rainbow cufflinks, "Funny thing is, I wouldn't even have the cufflinks if she hadn't said that. Bought 'em just to bother her. Figure it's not enough to crash the wedding or start a fight, just enough that she'll feel like an ass for telling me what's 'too gay'."

Lars hadn't even brought cufflinks. His suit was rented for the day. He didn't mind dressing up a little, but his idea of dressing up usually meant a button-down and slacks for work, rarely anything more. He'd have felt underdressed if he hadn't noticed the groom's uncle walking around in a sweat-stained polo shirt all morning.

"I'm Jimmy, by the way." the man added, almost as an afterthought, and extended a hand. Lars distractedly shook it and introduced himself. Jimmy offered him another beaming, dimpled smile, then glanced at the watch on his right wrist.

"There's my token hour, I think." he muttered, "Think I'm gonna sneak out and try to find some real food. Know any good places around here? Preferably cheap? Blew all my budget on the plane ticket."

"You're assuming I'm from London just because I'm English?"

Destination wedding. Wouldn't have been so much of a destination if he hadn't moved to the States for work two years back. Part of him wondered, from Jimmy's accent, if they might've crossed paths at some point or another. Unlikely, given New York City housed over eight million people. But it was an interesting thought.

"No, I'm assuming you've been to London because you're English. I'll take half-credit on my Idiot American card, at least." Jimmy teased, "And if you ever hop across the pond to New York, feel free to cash in that credit and make me drag you around to my favorite pizza place."

Lars blinked. Was he flirting? Did that count as the offer of a date? Or was it just a hypothetical? He had the feeling that Jimmy didn't put much weight into the things he said - he took life lightly, polite but without fear, and that made these things a little hard to judge.

"I'm in New York now, actually."

"Pretty sure we're both in London now, darling." Jimmy shot back without missing a beat, "That or I spent way too much on plane tickets."

"No, I mean- I live in New York. For work. I work in biology."

Parabiology, technically, but the para- didn't usually go over so well on first meetings. Far too many people were quick to deem his line of work a crock of shit, Ghostbusters or not.

"Hm. Well, I meant what I said. Patsy's Pizza in Manhattan. I'll buy." Jimmy said, and brushed off his lap as he stood up. He extended a hand out to Lars, like an old-fashioned gentleman inviting his partner to a dance. "But until then... want to sneak out while we've got the chance?"

Anything would be better than this stuffy reception. He'd been wanting an escape practically since he arrived. And a witty, handsome man with a nice smile, offering to whisk him away... that was one hell of an escape.

It felt like the choice of a lifetime yet hardly a choice at all. He took Jimmy's hand.

"Sure." Lars said, "I'll take you to Poppie's."

[verdemoun]

REDISCOVERING HOW HOBBIES WORK 100 YEARS LATER GOTTA BE FUN

Arthur and art supplies that have become much more accessible and common!!! SOMEONE DEFINITELY GOT HIM ONE OF THOSE ART KITS FOR KIDS AND HE NEARLY CRIED WHEN THE MARKERS DIDN'T WORK UNTIL BESSIE, BLESS HER HEART, INFORMED HIM HE HAS TO PUT WATER IN THEM. You can't convince me that didn't happen xoxo

Javier and his guitar. The availability of different equipment in modern era. Straps, picks, RAINBOW STRINGS (proud owner of rainbow "training" strings here. i absolutely love them). ELECTRIC GUITARS. Even if he wouldn't like them a lot, he'd still marvel at how far guitars have come. That Hatsune Miku amp/effect unit/whatever that was i don't remember tbh. It ends up either with him or with Isaac.

Knitting!!!! Crocheting!!!! Someone definitely takes that up as a hobby!!!!!! and then cries at the cost of yarn. Curse of the love sweater is a thing they fear.

Gardening not for survival, but for fun. Like yeah we've talked abt plants before but definitely someone noticed those weird ass sets with small pots and different seeds in some dollar store. Someone definitely got it. For themselves or the kids.

That shit has to be healing for the soul you can't tell me otherwise my dear friend you cannot.

i love arthur and modern crafts. yes he bought a kiddy craft kit when he first timewarped because the concept of spending money on hobbies was new. but more than that - he never had the chance to explore mediums. bessie immediately offered to pay for decent watercolors and fancy markers and colored pencils but he insisted on the cheapest option and then was upset (which came across as aggressively frustrated) when they didn't work. bessie explained very softly about the markers being dipped in water and adored how much he still lit up like he was a kid when they started working

arthur even a decade into timewarp gets very flustered over people actually spending money to encourage his hobbies and interests at christmas (which is a gift-giving holiday he can't avoid, unlike his birthday). he gets very emotional over giving given expensive pencils because the idea of people 'wasting' money to encourage his creative pursuits still effects him

both bessie and hosea will frame the few drawings he gives them and hang them in their house. while he prefers drawing from life, he has drawn horseshoe overlook from memory and hosea can be caught staring at it nostalgically

javier tried an electric guitar for all of ten minutes before going no thank you.

he has 4 different guitars because he was a little addicted to the fact acoustic guitars could come in so many different woods and also patterns in modern era. rainbow string, straps, and stickers definitely, because a guitar was actually affordable and no longer a prized possession (on bessie's dime, they're all secondhand)

he has one is acoustic/electric hybrid that he only brings out when isaac is begging for a jam session, because isaac also knows guitar and is obsessed with electric for recording

he does admittedly love playing with music software. is garageband still a thing? sometimes he will plug in his one hybrid guitar and add his own bass and drum to hear an actual full song of one of his more original pieces

susan grimshaw is the first to try crochet and everyone has at least one crocheted animal in their house. karen, charles and kieran are all knitters. karen maintained the habit from canon era and always knits maeve a sweater before winter. kieran learned it because repetitive and a hell of a lot cheaper than his other hobbies, he uses the cheapest yarn and can only make scarves

charles got into it because something creative he can do with his hands like making his own arrows (he admits purchased arrows are more reliable despite still hunting with a bow when he goes camping). charles most strongly believed in the curse of the sweater but arthur wears his charles' knitted sweater very proudly.

kieran is an avid gardener. it was the first 'task' he was given to encourage him to leave his room and once noise-cancelling headphones are introduced most people look for him in the garden first. him and bessie lose entire weekends in the garden, weeding or checking soil phd. she will take time off work when the weather is right for planting saplings

gardening is one of kieran's hyperfixations where he will abandon asl to actively talk to people about gardening no matter what. for this reason jake adler is one of his favorite people, who is more of a survivalist, edibles only, but similarly obsessive gardener

lenny buys bought those kiddy diy indoor herb sets for maeve only to get into it when she neglected the plants and he took over. he appreciates being able to send jake+kieran a group message when a leaf on his basil looks weird and they reply with an essay of what the plant needs

[made-by-marlow]

The Pomegranate Tree [sdv Elliott x male farmer oc] Part Three: Elliott

ao3 version

Masterlist | First | Next

Elliott did the same not long ago. He didn't realize how bright the old fluorescents of the city were until he sat down in a new cabin. The walls were painted a calming brown rather than a dirty looking beige-white. There would have been a pricey fine if he were to paint over the color with something less depressing. Those old walls were never to be touched in fear of pissing off the landlord.

While the walls in this cabin were old, they were allowed to be touched. Brown was the most comforting color he could think of. The forest. Brown walls. Brown coffee. Brown book pages. Brown candles. He now lived the aesthetic of lit candles and cedarwood.

On the walls that were allowed to be touched, he hung a poster of a map. Europe in the 1800's, small drawings of boats traveled from one continent to the next.

Elliott's fictional persona ran around that boat. Commanding his people, hoisting sails, drinking with friends all while being on the lookout for dangerous water creatures. A character that only existed on paper. Bringing this fictional world to life started as something to pass the time. Suddenly, people began to enjoy the writing. He could finish the book, and start selling the novel to make thousands. Pay off the debt and be free to do whatever he wants.

This, now, was what he wanted. A cabin on the beach, looking out at the sea. The same sea his fictional protagonist looked at. He had just enough company to get by. Willy, the old fisherman with a shop by his cabin, was the first to greet him. So far, the only. Willy reminded Elliott of his grandfather, no longer living in the body he used to. Maybe grandpa was somewhere out in the ocean where he always wanted to be. Reincarnated as a kraken. A comforting thought, but it was hard to imagine reincarnation or krakens a reality.

Loneliness stung his heart. He had Willy, but he craved more. He knew he wasn't the only one who was beginning a new life here. A cute girl who is rumored to have moved here to kick start her art career. Another rumor of a new, mysterious farmer. There were plenty of people here sharing the same story as him.

Elliott set his pen down, he paused his writing to consider the possibilities. Each person here was a door to be opened. He needed friends, but how? There was another rumor that the people here show friendship and appreciation through gift giving. But everyone had their different preferences. Hopefully, buying drinks in the house at the local saloon was a safe answer.

It's only a matter of action now.

The saloon was filled with a multitude of strangers, some that he recognized. Willy sat at the bar with a drink, next to the doctor and an older woman with blonde curls, swaying in her seat and giggling at the bartender. The bartenders gave her little to no recognition. Instead, the blue haired bartender slid another drink to a man who appeared that this was not his first one.

On the left side of the bar was a girl. Likely, the girl who had traveled here from the city to start a new life as an artist. Right away, they had something in common. Only his art was to be an author and pianist. She sat alone in the seat, twisting an orange braid around in her fingers. She looked in the distance at a group of strangers her own age playing a game of pool.

Elliott fidgeted with a rainbow shell he found at the beach. A universal like. Who doesn't like shells? 

"I hear I'm not the only artist new to Pelican Town," Elliott begins. He takes the chair to the right of her, admiring the dark wood and red cushion in a poetic way. He kept that thought to himself. Gotta act normal. 

"I've been here for a couple weeks. You will love it here. Spring is amazing." She stared into the distance, watching a girl with bright purple hair move around a pool table, laughing with some of her friends. It was safe to assume the man in a blue jacket was the new farmer. He looked the part, baggy jeans with deep pockets and brown farming boots already slightly mud stained. Yet he didn't look dirty. His long hair was washed and properly taken care of, pulled back into a curly ponytail to keep out of the way as he played pool with the others. 

Even two verses one, a kid with outgrown black bangs defeated the farmer and the blond in their game. 

"There's three of us now that have moved here in the past month. It seems like the farmer has already made friends," Leah says. 

"Jealous?" 

"Only a little," she says. Her hand rests on the side of her face, propping it up on the table. "I've been too nervous to approach them for an hour now." 

"What, you think one of the boys are hot?" Elliott pokes. Leah's hands cover the pink in her face. 

"Actually... Abigail," she says. The name is one that she is embarrassed to say out loud. Elliott looks to the only girl in their group. She's not his type, but she is attractive. He grows embarrassed he assumed the sexuality of his new friend. 

"I like girls too. That's even more we have in common." Leah's forehead meets the wooden table as she hides in her arms. It wasn't until then he notices an empty bottle of wine by her side. He  continues, "Why don't you talk to her?" 

"Because they're all so cool," Leah says, slightly slurring her speech. "I drew anime characters in high school. She has badass bright purple hair and tattoos. Do you see the difference?" 

"Okay, here's the deal." Elliott ties his hair back with the red ribbon on his wrist, pulling it forward so the ponytail rests on his shoulder. "We're both new. We need friends. By the end of this week, you talk to Abigail, and I talk to the new farmer," he says. He's not sure why he picked the farmer rather than the two others. There's something intriguing about him. His hair. His outgoing expressions. The way he laughs with himself when the white ball trips over the pool stick rather than being launched forward by it. 

"Fine." She knows this is the only way she will attempt talking to them.  

"Why don't we meet here next week?"

[mystical-sleepy-musings]

MORPHEUS

Greek god of Dreams and head of the Onerioi

SOURCES

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"Bullfinch's Mythology"

Author:Thomas Bullfinch

[Theoi.com|https://www.theoi.com/]

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ethereal Morpheus

The painter of slumbers

The stroke of your brush

Brings to light

Forms familiar

Gossamer in nature

With pictures of conciousness

|Who is Morpheus?|

Morpheus: The Shaper , The Lorekeeper, The One Who Forms, The Raven Haired One and The King of Dreams and Nightmares. Morpheus usually appears in the guse of a human or in the form you are most comfortable with( (he appears to me as Dream of the Endless but with slightly altered features). He is the black winged leader of The Oneiroi, which are the thosuand dream spirits who slumber within the same cave as Hypnos their father. Through the gates of horn and ivory, they fly out like a flock of bats . The gate of horn is said to bring truthful dreams while the gate of ivory is said to bring falsehoods. The Odyssey located the realm of dreams past the streams of Oceaus close to Asphodel Meadows, which is a part of the underworld where the spirits of the dead reside. They are all winged in a way(winged ears or wings on their backs) when not appearing in dreams. He has two other named Oneiroi siblings known as Icelus/Phobetor who is the fearsome one of Nightmares who appears as animals and monsters in dreams and Phantasos the oddly whimsical one who appears as objects in his fantastically woven dreams..the rest of the Oneiroi are unnamed..

|Mythology|

Morpheus sadly does not appear in many myths but some speculate that he was the nameless dream spirit that Hypnos sent out to the grieving Alcyone whose husband Ceyx died at sea after a visit from Iris(who was sent by Hera) goddess of rainbows. Morpheus appeared in her dreams, taking the shape of her dead lover to tell her that he perished at sea. But Alcyone, after seeing her husband's corpse wash up on the shore, couldn't bear this news and tried to end her life, but she and her husband got turned into kingfishers. Also, a neoclassical painting by Pierre- Narcisse Guérin portrays Iris coming within the dark cave, filling it with blinding radiance, and apparently, she also stirs up Morpheus from his slumbers.

|My Experience|(*UPG)

Morpheus is my patron deity, who is like a father to me. He apparently had been watching over me ever since I was little but did not introduce himself until the time was right. Morpheus, to me, appears as Dream of The Endless from The Sandman but with wings. Sometimes, he has dark, inky eyes and wild hair like in the comics or looks more like Tom Sturridge in Netflix's The Sandman. Morpheus is very serious and quiet(I'm like that as well lol) but is very sweet and overprotective as well. He has infinite patience, apparently, which is even more impressive considering I work also with the loud and loveably obnoxious Icelus who is his chaotic brother. He sees me as one of his children and student being a no nonsense mentor and father figure...unlike a certain someone I know who kept messing around by picking The Emperor knowing Morpheus already took that option while we were trying to establish a tarot card for him. His energy is so gentle and calming, making him very helpful if one has anxiety (like me) or trouble sleeping. He likes to hum and give snuggles to me or to the various plushies I have set out for him (I have two squishy unicorns that are filled to bursting with his energy due to him smothering them). I have no words for how freaking grateful I am to have such a lovely deity as my patron!

|Associations|

[IC]*Note this is mostly UPG*

Animals and Creatures

Ravens and crows

Cats

Nocturnal rodents like raccoons and Possums*(upg)

Butterflies

Rabbits*(upg)

Unicorns*(Upg)

Colors*(all upg)

Dark blues

Black

Purples

Some light blues

Teal

Silver and white

Misc Objects

Feathers

Skulls

Keys*(upg)

Paintings*(upg)

Books or poems(*upg)

Anything related to The Sandman by Neil Gaiman*(upg)

For some reason, he loves surreal memes and laughs like a growly Seth Rogan*(upg)

Soft stuffies and plushies*(upg)

Foods and Drinks

Popcorn*(upg)

Chocolate

Calming teas

Blackberries*(upg)

Anything really as long as it's not caffeine(coffee, energy drinks) or overly sugary(like peeps marshmallow candy type of sugary) because in his eyes it's the thought that counts

Incense and Oils

Sandalwood

Lavender

Any calming and lightly scented blends

Planet

Moon

Music*(all upg btw)

Classic and Progressive rock

Funk

Psychedelic rock

Just 60s and early 70s music

Soft rock

Swing and 50s music

He LOOOVES Pink Floyd , David Bowie, The Church , The Doors and Echo and The Bunnymen

He only likes one metal song and that is "Enter Sandman" by Metallica

Tarot card

The Emperor*(upg)

The Moon

Crystals

Amethyst

Selenite*(upg)

Blue agate

Ruby *(upg)

Rose Quartz*(upg)

Herbs and flowers

Mugwort

Hydrangea*(upg)

Lavender

Poppies

Chamomile

[kitausuret]

What neopets would various spiderman and venom characters be?

...so, uh, I actually started asking myself this question a few months ago. And. Well. I got a little carried away with my inspiration!

I'll link to each of their lookups just for fun, if any of my followers have an account, but most of them don't have anything on there yet.

This is extremely long so it's going under a break:

We start with Jubulile van Scotter.

She gets to keep her name because it was untaken. (: I made her an Aisha, because Aishas are a favorite of mine and also most of the wig items look really good on them. I opted for a kind of sporty look for her - essentially sci-fi-ing her canon characterization as a sailor. In this world, her strongest connections are with Flash, Eddie, and Victoria Montesi.

Next, we have Eddie Brock.

Eddie is so special he gets two looks - but primarily I have focused on his characterization in the most recent run of Venom, inspired by some of the ideas put forward in #18. I've named him Meridial in the sense that Meridius is the version of Eddie who lost all of who he was. What if Eddie managed to lose all semblance of who he was because he's so wrapped up in survival? Caught between life and death, in reality only a few years have passed for him, but to him it's been millenia. It would be tragic - just like him. (:

Then - Edgy Boy McEdgeson - I mean, Dylan Brock.

I'll be honest, I don't have anything particularly special in mind for him. I just think it would be funny for Dylan to be a cute little dragon but he has EDGE or whatever. The big-ass sword is inspired by his Big Edgy Sword he has as Codex. And this version of Dylan is definitely based on Codex. His name over on Neo is Cytozyme, which after some looking up is actually the name of an enzyme that cuts proteins - it specifically is what converts prothrombin to thrombin during blood clotting. And also I just thought the name had good vibes.

Who's up? Victoria Montesi!

While not strictly a Venom character, her surname was untaken so obviously I had to create her in Neopets. She's a Zafara simply because I like Zafaras. And yes, she is holding a lesbian pride flag as well as a huge fucking wraith staff. Idk, she's a magic user of some kind.

Next we have the Venom Symbiote!

Tragedies was actually the result of a trade - I had the name Olympus sitting around so I traded for this custom. (: I love Mutant Acaras and had wanted one for many many years. In the Neopian universe, the Symbiote is more of an entity than anything else. A... space entity. It's a work in progress. But it's still definitely a symbiote, which brings us to...

Peter Parker.

His name over at Neo is Tintilie, which is actually from the elvish language crafted by Tolkien. Now, while I am not personally a big Tolkien fan, I did look it up and the name means "sparkling" or "twinkling", which I think is a hysterical way to describe someone who is literally glowing because he's radioactive. Notice how he's an Acara? Just like someone else? Yeah. ;) And yes, he's also a teacher. and YES, he is also still a vigilante.

And who is Peter, without Mary Jane Watson?

Like Eddie, she gets two looks. Her base color is Eventide, because I think it's pretty. However, the old-art style Faerie Lenny is wonderful to me, and I like that it's based on a male peacock. Also because she believes that gender is a game and she's in it to win it. Her name on Neo is "Klieglight", which is a type of lighting that used to be common on movie sets! She goes by "Kay Lynn" or "KL" over yonder. She's still a fabulous model and aspiring actress!

Who's up next? Our friend Harry Osborn! Or maybe Harry Lyman.

He's a little rainbow Meerca because I think I'm funny. And yes. He still runs the Coffee Bean. And yes, his father was still rich as hell but is now gone (not dead, just serving time). But what about Harry's family, you ask? Well, have I got good news for you, because I've also crafted into this universe...

Liz Allan!

Would you believe I found an Ixi in the pound named Liz? It's crazy. I painted her Valentine and gave her an expensive-looking custom. She's my darling. I honestly had so much fun with her. But she's also got a kid, who is...

Normie Osborn.

Okay, so, he isn't actually painted Halloween - yet. But I'm working on it. Right now he's red, which kind of matches his mom? But anyways. Yes it is admittedly inspired by his Red Goblin look but like... what if he was just cursed but also was just chill about it. He's not actually evil or nothing he's just twelve. Also yes his background is a parody of the "this is fine" comic because that's his life. Falling apart around him and he's trying to pretend everything is fine. Theoretically he would have first been a Rainbow Ixi. The Osborn extended family is messy and big though, so we can't leave out...

Lily Hollister!

She is still blonde but I gave her better hair. (: There's a little bit of a nod to her as Menace, as much as I hate to give Dan Slott any credit... but I love those horns. They look good on her. She's fabulous. And that's why her name is Diahmonds! And who's just as great, is her and Harry's son...

Stanley Osborn.

Look how cute he is! Right now he's a Green Kougra wearing a UC Baby Kougra token, but I want to make him Rainbow to match his dad's coloring. For right now though? He is baby. And the creepy lab is inspired by the fact that right after he was born he had that touching moment being hand-fed by the Lizard. He's fine, I'm sure.

And last but absolutely not least is Flash!

While he doesn't have any tokens, this fantastic Kyrii does get two customs - one with a wheelchair and one with a cane. Why? Because he's amazing that's why. I definitely leaned most into his Space Knight stuff because reasons. He still for sure has connections with everyone listed above though!

Hoo boy this got really long but as you can see I've regained some inspiration in Neopets. They also all have designs I've doodled but nobody gets to see those yet because I'm embarrassed fjkdasl;jfla.

[scorpiongrassfield]

You Descend a Hungry Staircase

Start | Prev

The stairs take a turn half way down. Before you can make this turn, Theo calls out. 

“Um. Could you please shut the door behind you? Concrete isn’t allowed down here. It’s. Kind of dangerous for him.” 

You do as he asks, closing the trap door with a heavy and final sounding thud. 

“What makes it dangerous for him?” you ask as you head back down the stairs.

“Well. Oil paint can be pretty toxic, and Concrete will eat Anything he can figure out how to eat,” he says. 

You round the corner of the stairs and see the basement in full. 

It looks an awful lot like an artist’s studio. 

“So. This is where I do my more… Traditional art and stuff. You can um. Feel free to look around,” he says sheepishly.

There are quite a few paintings around, stored somewhat haphazardly. There are also shelves stacked with art supplies and what looks like fake flowers in a rainbow of colors. 

The style of the paintings is very familiar. 

“These are really pretty,” you say as you stop in front of a still life of a vase of flowers. 

“Thank you. I don’t. Usually bring people down here. But. I though um. I thought you might like to see some of my art,” he says. 

You give him your best reassuring smile. “I do. Thanks,” you say. 

Theo smiles back. 

You circle around the room, looking at the various paintings in different stages of completion. They don’t seem to be stored very carefully. 

You stop short as you recognize one of the paintings. 

“Would you be willing to tell me about this one?” you ask, pulling the portrait of Ametrine out of a stack. It was stored upside-down. 

Theo frowns as he comes up next to you. He takes the painting from his hands and studies it. He flips it around to look at the back side. 

“I… Don’t remember painting this. But. It’s in my style. And. It does have my signature, here,” he says, pointing out the little scribble on the back. 

His brow furrows further as he flips the painting back around to look at it, this time right-side up. 

“I don’t remember ever meeting this person, either.” 

“Do you have to have met her to paint her?” you ask. 

Theo nods, “For a tarot portrait… Yes. I like to pick a person that fits the card in question.” 

“Tarot portrait?” 

“It’s just. Portraits in the style of tarot cards. Exactly what it sounds like,” he explains. 

“What are tarot cards, though?” 

“Oh. Um. Hold on then,” he puts the portrait down. He moves over to the chest of drawers in the corner and fishes something out of it. 

“Here. Why don’t we come sit down? You can…” he pauses looking around, “take the chair in front of the easel there. I’ll sit…” he walks over to the little tri-legged table that has a vase of fake flowers on it, “here.” 

He moves the vase off the table, sets it on the floor, and sits on the table like it’s a stool. You take your own seat, pulling it over closer to Theo. 

“So these,” he holds up the object in his hand, it’s a deck of cards, “are tarot cards. People use them for. Divination and stuff. I like to use them for portraits because they’re symbolism rich,” he says. “That portrait… Is kind of interesting. It kind of looks like a cross between two different cards…” 

He shuffles through the deck and pulls out two cards. 

“There’s Justice,” he says, holding one up and then handing it to you, “and the Queen Of Swords.” He keeps the second one.  

You study the two cards. You can see some of the resemblances. 

“The red garb, front facing throne, and pose are all Justice,” Theo says, pointing out the features on the card. “The blindfold could also be symbolic of justice, though it’s not a part of the traditional tarot imagery,” he says. 

You notice he’s a lot less hesitant with his words when he’s explaining something he’s interested in. 

“But. You’ll notice the portrait’s off-hand is empty. There’s no scales like Justice is supposed to have. And the background is different, too.” 

He holds up the Queen of Swords for you to see. 

“The raised off-hand and the sea of clouds behind the throne are more in line with this card, don’t you think?” 

You take a moment to consider it. What he says makes sense, as far as these things go. But… 

“What does all of it mean, though? You said you liked the symbolism of it,” you say. 

“Oh. Well. Justice is what it sounds like. More or less. The scales are truth and balance, the sword is consequences. The crown is wisdom. The throne is power,” Theo says, pointing out each feature as he speaks. 

“The blindfold likely symbolizes the phrase ‘justice is blind’. And if we want to play around with it, the fact that I apparently stored the painting upside down would imply that I thought she was the antithesis of all these things by the time I finished painting,” he says with a rather bitter looking smile. 

Then he seems to realize he’s been talking a lot and straightens up from where he’s been leaning into your space a bit. “Oh. I’m sorry. I hope I’m not boring you. We can do something else if you’d like. Or you can leave. It’s been a while, are you feeling better?” he rambles. 

You take a moment to consider it. 

“I think I’m feeling better,” you say with a nod. “But I’m also enjoying our conversation. You can keep talking. What about the Queen of Swords aspects?” 

“Oh. That’s. Um. That’s good then,” Theo says, looking a bit surprised.

Next

[trollbreak]

(Ummm heads up in this for like. Gore and digging around in injuries in the throat and chest. This is that write I did ages back that I mentioned a min ago)

[It’s a constant balance, managing their hope when they bring a new body home. Giving up is to succumb to failure, and to solitude, and hoping too much is, more often than not, going to end in heartbreak.

They can’t help but get a little excited, this time. They’d hate to liken this figure to an experiment, but… how long has it been since they’ve been able to test the limits?

The cellar is empty when they return, they can feel it even before they approach the old wooden doors. A gentle blessing, to be alone for this.

His form is heavy, as most trolls are, but they do their best to be gentle as they take him down the stairs, the soles of his shoes setting a faux drumbeat as they fall from each step. He’s left to lie across the armchair as they work to haul the table away from the mimicry of a dining room and into the open so they can work, and when they lift him again, the once-emerald cushions have another color added to their patchwork rainbow. Something of a macabre art piece, and a statement to their work.

They cradle his head as they lay him across the dark surface, and with the daylight filtering in the open door, he is a picture. Blood stains his shirt, smeared across his chest, indigo shining in the light where it lays across his skin, curls laying around his head like a small halo, broken only by the undercut that curves along the back of his head. The midday sun casts a golden hue across his face, and the curl of one horn casts a shadow over his cheek, as if to follow the curves of his skull.

But even they cannot admire the image of death forever.

The hinges whine as they shut the doors, setting the bolt lock into place before they set about lighting candles. Surely it’s not a necessity, but it feels like a thing of luck, after all these sweeps. Their favored blade for the task resides in a case beside their mattress, and the leather handle is a comfort, in its familiarity, within their grasp.

After taking their place at the corpse’s side, they take a deep breath, in spite of its lack of necessity, and raise the dagger to his throat. They can’t help but wonder if purple flesh will feel different than the hues they’ve grown accustomed to.

Wine-violet blood spills down his throat, almost seeming to dance in the firelight as it moves. What sort of person was he, they wonder? What will he be?

They take another breath to steel themself before digging into their own throat, beyond the mushrooms that draw a collar across their neck, and into the mycelium that resides below the skin. And it burns. Like carving themself open anew, it aches, and even after all this time they can’t fight the cry that comes with plucking free some small portion of the tangled mass.

Their flesh is dry and rough, compared to that of the corpse under their hands. Violet paints their fingers as they put the bit of fungus into the wound, pushing it into the muscle as well as they can manage without worrying about doing too much harm. Some part of them is almost surprised, at just how alike this flesh is to that of anybody else, when there’s no life to it, although it shouldn’t feel as new as it does. Of all the corpses they’ve dealt with, there’s little difference when it comes to feeling around in the muscle and sinew.

The sting of plucking a few mushrooms from their throat is negligible in the light of the sting of the cavity lying beneath their skin, and they rest a hand over the still-bleeding throat as they move to push the mushrooms into his chest, nestled up against his heart, but… there’s nothing there to be found. They search, doubting their own experience to be found, but they can’t seem to find anything to feel like the hearts they’ve held over the sweeps, and it gives them a moment of pause. They haven’t knowingly had the chance to work with someone without a bloodpusher, but… surely that wouldn’t be necessary, would it? After all, Mawris hasn’t had blood in centuries, and, to their knowledge, neither has Discos.

They’ve still got their hand behind the man’s ribs when they decide that it’s worth trying, if for no reason other than the science of it. And… he ought to be happy, with another chance, shouldn’t he?

The air is cool, comparatively, when they remove their hand from the corpse to rest their knuckles on his sternum as they close their eyes. It takes a moment, then, to feel the dying bits of fungus as they sit in the body, but they find the traces nonetheless. And, with an unnecessary sigh, they will it to grow.

It’s more than just wishing it to happen, of course, it always is, but it’s the wish that keeps them focused. If it grows, there’s a chance. However small, there is a chance, and that’s what matters, in the end, isn’t it?

They envision it sprouting into their own strain of mushrooms, as always, but the growths under their fingers are unfamiliar to the touch. They take another moment, for good measure, as their own hyphae begin to ache, before looking over their work.

The beginnings of mushrooms that peek out from the purple blood are surprisingly golden, and again, they’re struck for a moment with the beauty of this corpse. He’s far less reminiscent of something from a movie, out of the sunlight, but now they could see something like him in a painting, if they try. The shine of his blood dancing in the candlelight, and the shadow cast by his nose falling over nearly half of his face in the low light, and the golden fungus standing as the brightest thing in the immediate area.

He looks so sweet, and, as they lift him over a shoulder, they can’t help but hope just a little more that he makes it back alright.

The cot he is laid upon is old, and it’s tough, but surely the dead won’t mind too much. They have a proper bed, for when he wakes, if he’d prefer to sleep on something that hasn’t been thoroughly saturated with blood and mold over the sweeps.

If he wakes, Mawris reminds themself. The odds are in favor of him joining the bodies that surround their cellar, dead as they found them, after all.

They take up an old notebook and sink into a seat, folding one ankle over their knee and turning to the first empty page. They’re going to have quite the wait, and they may as well record the attempt in the meantime.

They even give an attempt at sketching him, although, as per usual, their art doesn’t do the dead any justice.]

[oricarnell]

"I have. Though not anywhere near this isolated." Orion let his gaze wander around the perimeter, taking in the lake and fields surrounding them. It was reminiscient of the farm, in a way. The raider was quickly reminded why he usually sought out urban areas. Both because there was simply more to loot there, and the sense of discomfort settling inside his chest as he followed Kaz across the grasslands.

Something wasn't quite right here. It was quiet. Way too quiet. Not even the buzzing of insects, the incessant calls of birds, anything. Then again, that wasn't unusual, and not the first place Orion had been in that was devoid of any sign of life. Maybe all the animals had simply died, or been driven out. He chalked the uncomfortable feeling in his gut up to the fact that he wasn't quite as used to this level of silence, and followed Kaz into the barn. From the outside, the building looked abandoned, red paint flaking off from the walls, but the insides were indeed lined with neat, new looking boxes. Which were, indeed, filled with genital-shaped fireworks.

He was about to suggest to Kaz that they grab as much as they could and leave, before Kaz turned around to him, a grin on his face that reminded Orion a little bit of Emre - the grin that was about to suggest something fun. Orion paused, contemplated. He normally would have suggested getting out quickly. But... "Alright. We have to see if they work after all. Would be a waste to bring them back only to realize that they don't work."

Orion grabbed some of the fireworks and headed outside, expecting Kaz to grab a few of his own and follow. "We should have done this at night." The raider commented as he set up the firework on the dirt path in front of the barn, away from any dry grass so he didn't accidentally cause a wildfire. Reaching for the lighter he always carried with him, he lighted the fuse, which immediately sprang to life with hissing sparks. Stepping back, Orion watched as it burned down. For a moment, nothing happened. And then - a bang. Colorful sparks shooting high up into the sky, leaving trails rainbow-colored smoke behind them. Even without the advantage of the night sky, it looked quite pretty. Orion found himself smiling, just a little, tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was fun. A little bit more than he had expected.

"They seem to work. You should also light one, to be safe." Orion turned around to face his fellow raider when he heard something. A grumble. Low and guttural, as if right below their feet. An earthquake? Orion's eyes wandered around, quickly stopping at the lake. "That isn't good." The water was moving. Not in the way water was supposed to move. More like it was shaking, bulging up, as if something was trapped inside and trying to get out. And it was black. Pure black. To the point that it looked like someone had cut out a piece of the land, leaving nothing behind. As if all the sunlight was being swallowed up.

"Any idea what that is?"

The way Kaz saw it: Dymond and Carlos couldn't claim the load (ha) was theirs if it was not, in fact, in their possession. Would the other traders be pissed Kaz and Orion got the jump on what they wanted? Probably, yeah. But it broke up the monotony. And it was business, after all.

Orion found some amusement in what Kaz described. And determined the grooms would be well pleased. "Mhm. Big fan of dicks, those two." Even better, Orion readied himself to leave immediately. "Yeah, I've got the coordinates. Let's go."

A short time later ~

They passed through the teleporters as routine as ever. The southeastern shoreline of Lake Huron might be an odd spot to find what they sought out. Kaz had a few guesses for the reason, but did not spare thought on it. In the grand scheme of things the why didn't matter much. "Ever been to Canada before?"

They crossed a wide overgrown field towards the lake. A little stone house waited, along with an old barn that leaned at an angle and a covered boat ramp. Not a sound except the lap of water at the lake's edge and sway of grass in the late summer breeze. "Don't even see any animals out here," he murmured. Strange, but he'd seen stranger out there in what he called the wastes.

Inside the barn were stacks of boxes. Kaz opened a few and began to count. He removed one large dick and opened it at the base. "This is where the fireworks go." His smile sat faint on his lips. "Want to see how they work? Give it a little test?"

[conretewings]

Bartenders Don't Dance-Vander x reader

(A short, fluffy one-shot as a thank you and Christmas gift to all the people who've been liking and reblogging my Vander x reader fic! Thank you all so much for your support and I'll be putting more out soon! In the meantime enjoy this fun fluff! 💖)

-"Hey, where'd Vander go?" wonders Mylo aloud as he's sprawled out across a booth table and tinkering with a toy pistol.

Him, the rest of the kids, and yourself are all in the main barroom area of the Last Drop, you having convinced them to help take over cleaning and closing up for the night after your friend, lover and sometimes boss Vander had to suddenly leave to 'take care of something.' You hadn't time to ask before he strode out the door.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," you answer, hiding your slight nervousness, then noticing what he's up to, sigh and add, "And I'm certain he'll like whatever it is you're working on but he'll appreciate your helping clean up even more."

With a grumbled 'alright alright' the boy hops off the table and picks his mop back up, jabbing it in a dented, water-filled bucket. Claggor is wiping down tables and chairs and putting them back, Vi is behind the bar cleaning and organizing, and Powder...you shake your head with a bemused smile as the girl is standing on a chair and hanging up some strings of small lights she'd fished out of a trash heap over the old jukebox.

The chair wobbles dangerously as she stretches on her toes and you dart over to steady it, warning her, "Powder please! Be careful and ask for help if you need it."

"I'm fiiine!" she insists, "Almost...almost got it-there!" turning and hopping down she grabs the plug and looks for an outlet. Mylo shakes his head sadly, "Telling you Powder, I don't think they'll work."

She sticks out her lip at him in defiance, "They will to! Watch!" She jabs the plug in, and you yank her back as a couple sparks shoot out-then the lights flicker to life, throwing a soft rainbow-colored glow over that corner and she whoops for joy.

Claggor looks up, "Oooh! That looks awesome!"

"They're so pretty!" Vi admires with a grin, "I know Vander will love it too."

"Well those certainly bring a nice little ambiance to the room," you chuckle, then say, "Alright guys, the place looks good. Great job on cleaning duty, thank you, and now-"

The kids groan simultaneously, knowing what the rest of your speech would be and you indeed confirm their suspicion, "-now it's time for bed."

Another chorus of disappointed groans and protests erupt, but you cross your arms and do your best to seem authoritative, "It's late. Bedtime. Go on. Don't make me make sure you brush your teeth and all that."

As they're gradually shuffling off the door flies open and Vander stalks in, locking the door behind him. Instantly the kids perk back up and start asking what's going on. Powder bounces on her toes and points to the lights, "Look look! Aren't they pretty?!"

The large man glances at them and gives the blue-haired girl a very tired, small smile, "Aye Powder they are..." he then sighs wearily and rubs his temple, "And nothing's going on. Isn't it time for you lot to be asleep?"

They glance between each other, gauging his mood and weighing their chances before Vi speaks up, "We were helping clean up so maybe we can stay up a little more...?"

"Bed. Now." says Vander sternly, and with final grumbles they walk off, leaving the both of you alone.

He goes around the bar, grabbing a cup and a bottle, pouring himself a shot and downing it before leaning on the counter with a long, weary exhale, his face set in a scowl.

You slowly walk over and sit in the chair across from him, asking quietly, "Nothing?"

He doesn't answer at first, taking his pipe to prepare and light it. Only after he takes a couple drags on it, blowing the sharp-smelling clouds into the air above him does he speak gruffly, "Few teenagers decided it was a good idea to start shit with a couple'a Enforcers. Had to go smooth it out."

Your stomach clenches, "Did they...?"

"Everything's fine. They got off with a warning...and one from me. They won't be pullin' a stunt like that again soon."

You reach out to rest a hand on his arm, gently rubbing small, soothing circles with your thumb. He had so much to deal with, between owning the bar, looking after the kids, not to mention all the things he did for the people of the under city, assisting them with any issues he could-or in cases like this helping broker peace whenever conflicts between them and Enforcers cropped up. You were glad you could at least help him with some of those burdens.

After a minute he rests his large, warm hand over yours, looking off in the distance before flicking his gaze to you, his expression softening a degree, "Thank you for closin' up shop for me."

You smile and tilt your head, "Of course, Vander. The kids helped a lot too. I just wish I could...," you look down at his thick arms, and all the dirt and small scars there, "That I could do more."

"Ya do plenty, love," he reassures you, that heart-fluttering half-smile on his handsome face, "Chasin' out the drunks and wrangling the munchkins is a big job in of itself."

He lifts the hand you still have on his arm to his lips and gives it a tender kiss, sighing then resting his forehead on it before glancing towards the jukebox and looking again at the lights Powder had taped and stapled to a wooden beam.

"They do look nice." he muses.

"She was determined to put them up," you chuckle, "Insisted you'd like them. I think they make it look a little like..."

You trail off, abruptly lost in a memory; you're standing on a small stage, strings of twinkling lights along the wall behind you as the band plays a jazzy, smooth tune and you sing along, tapping a foot to the music as couples twirl on the dancefloor. So long ago...

"You good?" he wonders.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," you smile wistfully, "Just remembering something..."

An idea hits you then and you stand, walking over to the jukebox and popping in some coins before selecting a few songs. You then turn on your heel, striking a pose and holding your hand out toward Vander with a coy smile, "Dance with me?"

He leans an arm on the bar, one heavy eyebrow arched just the slightest and shoots you a bemused look while raising his pipe to his mouth, "Darlin', do I seem like the type of man who knows how to dance?"

You falter only slightly before coming back with, "If you can fight, you can dance. Let me teach you a bit. C'mon...it'll help take your mind off things."

Vander lets out a sigh, shaking his head with a smirk and sets his pipe down before striding over to you while saying in a teasing manner, "Alright. If not now you'll keep on me about it so might as well get it over with."

"Hardy-har. Now, what I'll be showing you is some simple, three-beat waltz steps. Once you get the basics down it's easy enough. First, you get into the right stance..." you take a step closer so you're in front of him, holding your hands out and he places his in them, "Like this."

You lift his left hand to near chest height, holding it there and guiding his right to your lower back, then place your right hand on his shoulder, "There."

He hums, "Alright then. And next?"

You give pause, his closeness suddenly registering before composing yourself with a clearing of the throat, "Now, watch my feet. I'll go slow, just follow my lead..."

You slowly slide your foot to the side and he mirrors you, then the next few steps you take as you count them one by one. After a couple gradual repetitions you grin, "There! See? You're already doing well."

Vander gazes at you softly, his sour mood seemingly evaporated and pulls you in a little more murmuring, "Think I might need a bit more assistance...gotta make sure I got the hang of it yeah?"

You're already keenly aware of the closeness of his body against you along with the whiff of leather and smokey tobacco that seems to always cling to him filling your nose and muddling your senses, but his eyes-those deep grey eyes that peer into yours with such fondness is what almost undoes you.

"Yeah..." you reply quietly, "That...sounds perfect..."

For the next little while, the sounds of the old jukebox and the both of your feet against the creaky old floorboards are the only ones in the room. Your head is now leaning on his chest hearing the steady drumbeat of his heart, and his chin is resting on your head as you both sway to the music and you swear you can't recall a time you've felt happier and more at peace, even in those couple years you spent in the sun up in Piltover.

You raise your face to look at him, smiling tenderly, "Thanks for letting me teach you a new skill..."

He huffs out a short laugh, "And thank you..." he places his fingers under your chin to lift your face a little more, "For everything..."

You tilt your head and lean in as he does the same, your lips meeting in a tender kiss, hands slowly winding around each other in an embrace, the music finally ending into crackling silence-

And in that silence you both register the sounds of quiet shuffling and hushed whispers from around a nearby corner. It seems you two weren't as alone as you thought.

Instantly Vander's scowl returns, and he withdraws while pinching the bridge of his nose, "'Scuse me love-" before whirling and stepping quickly in the noises direction with a shout of, "HEY! What've I told you guys about eavesdroppin'?! And you're supposed to be in bed!!"

As he's yelling you hear a panicked scrambling and barely catch flashes of pink, blue and brown as the kids make a run for it. You can't help but laugh, wiping a tear of amusement and pure happiness from your eye. You wouldn't trade these days, these people, and your life with them, for anything...

[wheelercore]

The Rainbow: Socialization and Conformity in Stranger Things

Becoming very obvious once S3 came out, Stranger Things utilizes the color of the rainbow very often to symbolize how characters have been affected and/or influenced by society around them. Main characters are often switching in and out of clothes primarily colored with blue, red, and yellow (primary colors) with green, orange, and purple (secondary colors) often used to symbolize combinations and relationships.

Personally I believe each primary color symbolizes a theme or an effect societal expectations have on a character in the story. It's not a coincidence that the symbolism started to become more pervasive once our MCs hit puberty.

And nowhere is it more obvious than with the concept of the rainbow room

This is the play room that Brenner had set up for his test subjects. It's a miniature society, a place for El and her "siblings" to play, to interact, to bully each other- particularly the people who do not fit in. In this case, El because she was not as good as the others.

Even as these children were shielded from the world and raised in a lab, they still formed their own dynamics and hierarchies. Brenner fed into this- pitting these children against each other to test their abilities. No doubt, if Henry wasn't already radicalized into destroying the world, his experiences in this lab might have done it. Away from the "outside" world, but humans (children) still find a way to be mercilessly cruel to each other.

And how do you get rid of human cruelty?

Get rid of humans.

That is the UD, a barren wasteland with no human life and poisonous air that kills all that it touches. A parallel world that has a Hawkins, but with none of the Hawkins residents.

And when El banished Henry to the UD? She chose humanity. She chose life despite having only been treated badly by those around her. That humanity is worth fighting for and there is an inherent goodness in El that exemplifies the human capability to be kind and to progress. She is not the monster.

But she also realizes that she is not a blank slate. That she has (rediscovered) memories and experiences that affected her in different ways, and she is not just what her abuser made of her or what anyone else for that matter. In a paradoxical way, that was her rebirth. Her chosing to reevaluate the last few years of her life with what she knows now- and rather than being rendered a blank white canvas and painted on by force, she is going back on her own to the simple things that are important to her. Friends, family, and self. She is colorless with blooming pink, maybe one day to become a beautiful red.

To put it succently, El has finally developed a sense of intrinsic motivation and self identity.

Other characters often are jumping from color to color also, determined by what they are doing, feeling in that moment, and the pressures that they are under.

Will who is often in red in S3 with some blue and yellows, to bring fully in yellow towards the end of s4 when he lies to Mike about the painting.

Mike who is in yellow when he lies to El (about his nana and in the airport)- like his mother who spends the majority of s3 in yellow-, who's in blue when he starts back at square one by giving a fake love confession to El- like Ted who's almost always in blues with little exception-, who's hellfire outfit is white and black with a bit of red mixed in to show he's being authentic.

El who is in blue when trying to be the girlfriend that she thinks she should be to Mike but sheds her blue over the course of s4 and is reborn in white and pink.

Henry, in Els flashback covered on red blood over a white outfit. His idea of being free, truly free, is killing those who hold him down.

[tristansarchive]

NSFW-ISH FLASHFIC! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Summary: Jeremiah's a workaholic and it doesn't get any better when it comes to a life of crime. His twin's always coming up with new ways to handle it — some got better results than others.

❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖❖|❖

Taking a slow, deep breath in order to calm himself for what felt like the fifth time that very same day, Jeremiah found himself itching to massage his temples but stubbornly refrained from it — wouldn't do to show how utterly done he was. - "Recapitulating, as you've seemed to pay little attention."

He meets the eye of every one of the idiots his twin swears by to be the most reliable of his cult, ones that showed the least problems following orders; they evaluate his figure with thinly veiled distrust — can't quite trust him farther than they can throw him but it's not as if he really cares, couldn't ever feel threatened by the same people that polished Jerome's white leather boots with their tongues. Ecco's just a few steps behind him too, playing with one of the throwing knives he had given her — a birthday gift, she had requested new weapons after all — while resting against one of the walls, stepping over the ancient, crumbling wallpaper. 

Not able to resist it, he tilts his head and throws the most condescending grin he can muster at them, a test to his usual passive-aggressiveness but they were not helping their cases by keeping him in this place for longer. 

In front of him, the map of the city stays spread and stuck to the wooden table by rainbow-colored pins he had organized across the districts, threads of orange and purple linking each. He points at the one currently stabbing the smiley face drawn by the docks, visualizing the warehouse he had in mind. - "Keeping a low profile is of utmost importance for the time being, and so I've arranged routes for two separate groups to leave as soon as Jerome—"

A cell phone goes off right then, interrupting him, and he's just about this close to reaching for his holstered pistol and shooting whoever had the audacity, when he recognizes the familiar, awful tune — with which he was tortured often — that had been programmed into his own device for one very specific menace in his life. Talking about the devil.

I save dick by giving it CPR

I save dick by giving it CPR

Put my mouth on it like CPR

Let's make porn and watch it on VCR 🎶

Shamelessly, he raises a finger at the dead-silent crowd and feels for the pocket in his striped coat's lining, wrapping his fingers around the ringing phone and pulling it out and open to his face, unlocking the screen with a quick press of the password — only to shake his head in exasperation at the contact name that had also been changed. 

He debates whether he should or not answer the call, knowing how long they could end up taking by experience — a bafflingly cliché trait of theirs, that equally inconvenienced and soothed — but as much as he wouldn't particularly mind hearing Jerome's latest opinion on whatever cartoon he was watching that morning, he still had much to do; it wouldn't take long for the GCPD, even as half witted as they were, to figure why their followers had stopped acting like headless chickens and if there's something Jeremiah refused to let happen, was to be predicted. 

So he presses mouth thin in slight discontentment and sets the notifications to vibrate, aware of the consequences of this action. There was no reasoning with his twin, he knew very well, but it was for the benefit of them both — perhaps Jerome wouldn't see it that way, but that was just fine by him; some bridges he'll have to cross instead of bombing, he supposes. 

Clapping his gloved hands together loudly enough to bring his nosy guests — none of them doing a good job of appearing uninterested — back to their current predicament, he stifled a smirk at the yelp coming from behind him. Such a gossiper, that woman. - "As I was saying, the signal agreed upon at the last meeting will serve as the cue to each group retrieving the..."

❖|❖

You have 10 unread messages on voicemail.

Jeremiah could only stare in disbelief, not having been quite prepared for what he was seeing. 

Of course, he wasn't new to Jerome's incessant complaining and naive he was not — a few strong worded messages were fully expected from his twin, specially since he found catharsis on poking at Jeremiah's guilt over their years apart. But he had fed the belief that even the ginger's predisposition to ranting had its limits, those which he had clearly underestimated.

It makes his grip on the device a little tighter, fills him with a sort of anticipation. In a way, it's a treat — he had left their bed while Gotham's sky had still been a dark indigo, no stars to be seen; dropping extra ammunition in the current hideouts and installing a couple fail-safes were precautions that they had discussed during dinner and he wouldn't have felt secure in their progress otherwise, not when he remembered about his twin's last failure and where it lead them. Which had the unfortunate effect of rendering him sleepless — and then unable to wait for a 'good morning' kiss, a look at Jerome's endearingly drooly face had been all he got. 

It's embarrassing, that he can almost hear Jerome's irritated comment on his disappearance act just by looking at the number but still miss his voice, all of the baggage that came with the hoarse quality to it — but he had learned to enjoy what it did to him. 

Seated in one of the chairs Ecco had promptly fetched for him, he takes off his hat with a sigh and holds it to his lap as he presses the device against his ear, glancing at the cultists still assessing the map alongside his proxy — not quite comfortable enough to put his twin's probable tantrums on speakers. Those were for his ears only(specially if it's targeted at him).

The first of them goes just as he imagined.

"Miah, ya fuckin' asshole... couldn'tcha wait 'til I was done with ya? Leaving at who the fuck knows when in the night- I'm tackling yer ass when ya show up, smartypants."

It takes a surprising amount of restraint to not snort loudly at him because he had clearly just woken up when it was sent and if possible, his speech poured thicker than usual; he hums in what he figures is the agreement he would've replied with to appease him and lets his eyes fall shut, savoring the background noise of the TV and something being cooked while his twin cusses him away. 

He realizes, midst the transition from the first to the next message, that he hadn't eaten anything since waking up. Aside from coffee, of course.

"Ya should know my helpful followers always tell me when yer calling up for meetings. I could go in there~"

Hmmm, in hindsight he genuinely wishes his twin had. Truth be told, Jeremiah couldn't have explained in simpler terms what the escaping-abducting cycle route implied for the upcoming scheme and yet, still at the very ending, he received the odd blank stare here and there. With Jerome, he was sure they would've wrecked their minds to try and understand whatever their messiah threw at them instead of expecting him to do all of their jobs for them — but he digresses. 

The third message, though. Took him a minute.

"Been watching one of those old movies with the rich fellas dressed all snobby, reminded me of ya." - there's a clacking sound that becomes clearer when he pauses, then comes a dramatic sigh. - "Yer so annoying about this kinda stuff but I'm not gonna lie- it's got charm. It's like some vintage clown chiq with all the over the top suits in crazy colors and makeup, I wanna see ya on a stage."

It brings Jeremiah back to a conversation they had, back in the Wilde State — and right after he had told his twin of what he had planned for Gotham. He remembers the words he had used in that recording he had left for detective Gordon: "Jerome's dead. Long live me." 

He had recited it — like a chant, a reminder — and it had been bitter, angry, liberating, wonderful. He wanted to have as much power as Jerome achieved, be the star of a show that had relegated him to the bleachers but it also hurt something awful that he'd to do it alone. 

But as things turned out to be, every now and then it clicks in his overworking mind that after so long — he'll be two again, have Jerome with him and when the curtains fall at the climax of their spectacle to reveal who's been behind the newest surge of vindicating chaos, the smoking gun will be on his hand, his dear twin right by his side; laughing at a terrified audience, observing with curious eyes as he does it all in his name. And if this city survives them, they'll exchange roles, repeat their steps for as long as they fancy— again and so forth. 

It's enough to have him feeling like there's no space within his ribcage for the expanding of his lungs, his heart taking over every inch. Love for him had always been like this — and not so coincidentally, towards the same person — but while he recognized the aching and overwhelming euphoria, he never quite got used to it for better or worse. It took over his senses every time, turned him into an entire new creature or maybe unlocked another side of him.

Shaken, he decided he needed to listen more and Jerome didn't disappoint in the next.

"Aren't ya getting bored? I mean nothing against my own people but... none of them like ya. But I do, Miah~" 

His lips twitched, a smile taking over without his permission as he rolled his eyes. He had a point, after all.

"Well, I'm! so! bored! I'll forgive ya for leaving me if ya show up right now and kiss me. It's my favorite pastime, ya know? Smooching yer sugar plum lips." 

Jeremiah doesn't make it a habit of physically showing his true feelings. Ask Ecco, and she'll tell that in all of the years they've known each other — an impressive amount, by the way — he very rarely expressed too strong of an emotion in front of her, going so far as to project a lack thereof and ever since he went through his... change, he had been able to perfect it into an art and signature of sorts. He's not the emotional type, so to say. 

"Ah, I bet these aren't helping ya concentrate... Oops! My bad, dolly." 

But whenever Jerome brings out that cheeky, flirtatious attitude accompanied by his endless repertoire of sappy and quite insulting petnames — Jeremiah can sense his face getting warmer and he fights the indignity of averting his eyes to the ground, refusing to be bashful of all things. He knows exactly what his twin's doing, what this is meant to evoke and what's worse: he can't shut him up.

"But ya know me, I just can't resist ya. That's why I came back for ya, ain't that right? 'Cause I love yer kisses so bad, Miah."

Whispering lovingly to him through the phone, he sounds needy, tempting. It's unfair, that a few words from him can make his mind spin, blurry by the edges. 'Love' sounds so right in Jerome's tongue, as if he owns it by the very letters — he could never get tired of hearing him say it. 

He loves him. It's intoxicating and biological. Every cell in his body does so, intrinsically. Sometimes it feels like it could consume him. If it hasn't already.

"Are ya blushing? I'd love to see it. Yer such a cutie, only sometimes though. When yer not a fucking pain in my ass." - Jeremiah can almost pinpoint the second the implications register before his twin gasps in delight at the opportunity to mortify him. - "Not that I mind, can make my ass sore all ya want, baby broski. And when yer trying so hard to not blurt out some creepy, loving shit while at it? I wanna squeeze ya by the prick, so damn adorable-" 

"Boss?" 

The higher pitched voice's close enough to gain his attention, causing him to almost jump in his seat and reflexively try to muffle the maniacal giggling coming out of his phone, firmly pressed to his chest while staring wide-eyed at who had called him— oh, Ecco. 

Exhaling in relief, he allows his posture to relax and shoulders to fall minutely before immediately narrowing his eyes at her, irritation clear in every line etched to his frowning brow. - "Can't you see I'm busy?" - he tried to go for an unamused tone but it sounded a lot more murderous than he wished for. 

If he focused on the noises coming from the device in his hand, he could almost hear the recurring whining resembling the various terms Jerome called him by. Ecco's gaze momentarily fell to his chest and he knew it wasn't just him. 

Ecco giggles nervously. - "We're all finished, bossie! Tough nutjobs to crack, those! But you can always count on my skills, got'em on the palm of this hand!" - she swishes her right hand, wiggling her fingers with an excited smile. Jeremiah huffs, looking around and noticing that she had indeed done an impressive job of finishing their little rendezvous — there wasn't a single slacker in sight, presumably because they were already taking care of relaying instructions to the rest of their members. 

Pleased, he nods in approval and rewards her the smallest of grins. She practically beams. - "Then I came to tell that we could get goin' and you were redder than my daddy when we told him we were outta beer— and squirming too! You getting sick? Got your pills in the car, if you need them!"

To his utter horror, he found himself unable to recompose from such a violent attack to his ego fast enough to reply with anything better than a rushed 'Thank you.' while standing up straight from his rickety chair and marching out the small apartment's door, (elegantly)making a run for the decaying bulding's ornamented elevator and taking its cabin for himself before Ecco could join him.

Had any of those imbeciles witnessed it as well, by chance? It's not for the matters of caring about their opinions, pfff— as Jerome had said, they reported everything to him, annoyingly so. And that would definitely set a precedent for many more voicemails to come, at the most inopportune times. 

He turns at the flash of green and white he captures in his peripheral vision and finds a dirty, rusting mirror on the wall; even ruined as it currently is, the picture being painted is unmistakable. He can't unsee how the pale — porcelain-esque, Jerome had teased — skin gives away to a faint red, it clashes with the aubergine over the lips and bright blue of his eyes, though it does match his scarlet tie. It's just when he brings his hands closer — NOT to hide his complexion in them — that he's reminded of what he's holding in both of them: his white fedora and phone. The very source of his troubles, still playing his messages.

Hesitantly, he presses it against his ear once more.

"—gotcha all syrupy sweet on me, sunshine this and dearest that! And all I could think about was 'if I had known sucking yer cock in the morning like my life depended on it made ya less bitchy all those years ago I would've been saving a ton in mints'. But, Miah, waking ya up stealing yer breath's... fuck, it's delicious— I love to feel ya struggling against me~"

Jeremiah leaves the inconspicuous place, fashionable hat covering his ardent cheeks and coat luckily hiding any other… issues, he might be suffering from on his way to the goddamn car, fully intending to break a few traffic laws.

Beginning with texting while driving. 

'Coming.'  

A reply comes seconds later.

'Oh, you will be.'

[alexvalder]

So the first book seems to be somewhat accurate to the source, except Dorothy is now Ellie. (Edit: actually there are more, including making story seem darker: wiki, en). After that, fanfiction starts...

I am actually very conflicted, because all of these are very beloved memories from my childhood, but they were also written by a russian author in USSR, which I can't just skip over now. However, I'll describe what I remember with links to GERMAN WIKI because what other European language has pages on this.

Second book: "Urfin Jus and his wooden soldiers". Guy named Urfin Jus tries to get rid of weed from his garden, but it keeps coming back, so he somehow turns that weed into powder (I KNOW HOW THAT SOUNDS) and learns that it can turn things alive. So he, being a woodworker, decides to make a wooden army and conquer the magic land. Ellie somehow comes to the country and saves everything. Urfin returns to his life as a hermit. I vividly remember lines about how he fooled high society about being a wizard by making fake realistic worms and toads from chocolate etc. and, making them look like alive, ate them to terrify aristocrats. Why? Because he wanted to look like an evil wizard and evil wizards eat worms. I think at one point he just ran out of powder.... I can't stop thinking how the wiki page for this is available in German and Georgian (wiki, de)

Third book: "Seven underground kings". Ellie and her cousin and Toto are lost in underground cave with water, but manage to survive by reaching the magic land, or more specifically, a kingdom under it. The kingdom has 7 kings who are basically immortal, because they drink magic water in turns that makes them asleep for months. They're all color-coded after rainbow colors. After waking up, they are "like babies", need to learn how to walk and talk etc. After a month just doing nothing and celebrating, they go to sleep again and the next king awakes. While they're asleep they don't age so actually all of the kings lived for centuries. It was all done to reduce taxes on citizens, and citizens were actually happy that they're kings are too busy with sleep to bother them. Ellie and her cousin accidentally ruin the source of the magic water, and underground people take them hostage until Ellie (who they believe is a witch?) brings water back. There was a huge chunk at the beginning of the book telling how did these kingdom came to exist, and I loved it. Also, Scarecrow tried to have a diplomatic mission to save Ellie from there. In the end they just decided to re-educate freshly awaken kings to make everyone happy. I feel like this was my most favorite book in the series just due to the setting, and I wonder if there are any better books where there is an underground fantasy kingdom with its weather. (link, de)

Forth book: "Fire god of Marrans". Now it's Ellie's little cousin, Annie, who's the main character. And she has a new dog... So, Urfin Jus is back and he tricks Marrans, a warrior-like tribe of people, that he's a god of fire because he got his hands on lighter. Also Marrans didn't know fire. Urfin tries to rule over country again and fails. I remember one very gruesome detail: at one point, group of Marrans is captured by good guys, and Urfin convinces the rest that their captured friends were "sliced into pieces and fed to the pigs". In the end Marrans see that their friends are actually alive and were playing football with good guys, and they turned their back on Urfin (who ran away before he could get punished). (link, de).

Fifth book: "Yellow Fog". A giant evil witch Arachna awakes after 5k year sleep. She learns about past events from writing of gnomes and first of all tries to persuade our old fella Urfin into helping her. However, after seeing how people were still kind to him after all he did, Urfin went on redemption arc (I think at some point he even destroyed what magic powder he found to avoid temptation?) and refuses, including giving a speech about how you can't turn freedom-loving people into slaves (ironic, coming from a russian author). Then the witch find some fucker who I don't even remember who he is, who works as an intermediate between Arachna and the rest of the world. Arachna makes an evil spell that covers a good portion of the magic land with toxic yellow fog that brings winter and makes people ill. In the end she's defeated somehow by Annie. (link, de)

Sixth book: "Mystery of forgotten castle". Aliens. Literal aliens come to earth and find the magic land. This is a random mix of Soviet sci fi and subtle sanitized fascist allegory (I got very old movie Nazi vibes from aliens). Also they looked human. Was the least favorite book due to how different in tone it was to the rest of the series. (link, de)

Okay, so when I was a kid I was reading basically localization-turned-fanfiction about the Wizard of Oz. There were 7 books and the last one featured literal aliens...

And I literally JUST found out that original story had continuation and its own plot in America, so all of those books past the first one were literally just fanfiction with no connection to that.

I feel excited, robbed and dumb.

[emeren]

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk) 

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise. 

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her. 

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features. 

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.” 

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side. 

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.” 

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him. 

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least. 

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?” 

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.” 

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled. 

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.” 

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.” 

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor. 

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school. 

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race. 

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?” 

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off. 

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name. 

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start. 

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.” 

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes. 

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!” 

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly. 

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...” 

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median. 

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him. 

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!” 

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!” 

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare. 

eren lost? 

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right. 

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.” 

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it. 

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls. 

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends. 

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway. 

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean. 

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head. 

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best. 

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch. 

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.” 

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.” 

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.” 

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her. 

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?” 

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain. 

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in. 

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal. 

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes. 

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment. 

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.” 

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.” 

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.” 

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes. 

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet. 

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap. 

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people. 

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you. 

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed. 

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest. 

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing. 

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.” 

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd. 

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you. 

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you. 

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.” 

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.” 

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.” 

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”  

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.” 

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought. 

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.” 

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.” 

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours. 

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.” 

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?” 

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth. 

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach. 

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away. 

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was. 

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.” 

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit. 

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it. 

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders. 

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot? 

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. 

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin. 

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.” 

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?” 

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.  

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.” 

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement. 

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.” 

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic. 

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back. 

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.” 

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you. 

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts. 

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.” 

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off. 

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts. 

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do. 

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin. 

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat. 

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit. 

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side. 

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.” 

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly. 

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure. 

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt. 

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain. 

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady. 

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good. 

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair. 

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself. 

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold. 

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.” 

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours. 

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant. 

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.” 

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off. 

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water. 

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?” 

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra. 

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze. 

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips. 

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt. 

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape. 

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?” 

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.” 

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep. 

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back. 

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center. 

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself. 

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline. 

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.” 

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless. 

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid. 

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.” 

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking. 

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.” 

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.” 

“yes what?” 

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.” 

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation. 

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body. 

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt. 

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence. 

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.” 

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you. 

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep. 

“night, casanova.” 

<3 <3 <3