#I doodled this one on company time lol

[septiseph]

I saw aogami in these free-cam screenshots of that one scene in vengeance and I found it kinda funny so I doodled it.

He's coming in an inhuman speed!!!! must protecc!!!!!

[sysig]

Well aren’t you so popular (Patreon)

[katiekatdragon27]

Hello Dandy's World fans.

I've recently been playing the game on Roblox with my friends and sibling, and it's been a ton of fun! Sure, I'm horrible at it, but it's the thought that counts ig.

And don't worry, I draw normal things too.

Like these things.

But it's mostly angst and unhinged things lol.

Below is a silly goofy Shiny Shrimp (that's the ship name I made up for Glisten x Shrimpo lol) AU that's just angst and tragedy and bullying Shrimpo emotionally lol:

OKAY SO CONTEXT: I thought it would be funny if Shrimpo had to keep Glisten company while exploring the floors but was also the one to witness his change into his full twisted form and almost die lol.

SO, I'd imagine it going down like this.

Basically, during one of the missions below, Glisten doesn't make it to the elevator in time. Shrimpo gets wind of this and gets very pissed. Despite everyone's protests, Shrimpo decides to join on of their runs to gain iquor, but mostly to fine Glisten.

And boy does he find him and all his shattered face glory.

Glisten: "Shrimpo!?" Shrimpo: "G-Glisten?" Glisten: "I knew you'd come back for me!"

Shrimpo attempts to leave the situation, seeing that Glisten is indeed twisted, despite Glisten's insistence that he is not. As Shrimpo tries to leave, Glisten gets more attached, constantly asking Shrimpo to not leave and to stay with him. Another person in the party (haven't decided who yet), tells Shrimpo to stay with Glisten and keep him company until all the machines are done. Shrimpo reluctantly agrees (and says "I HATE YOU" a couple times) and spends the rest of the round with Glisten.

However, the whole time Shrimpo's trying not to get attached because deep down, he knows it's too late for Glisten.

At the end of the round, everyone is called to go to the elevator. Shrimpo goes to leave. Glisten tries to block him off. Shimpo forces his way through. Glisten gets pissed and rips off his ribbons in anger, letting the infection take over his whole body. As Glisten's shifting, Shrimpo grabs one of his discarded ribbon pieces and beelines it to the elevator (as fast as Shrimpo can run). However, it is not fast enough, and Glisten easily catches up. He knocked over Shrimpo and lunges at him, ready take him out.

That's when Goob comes in. While everyone is trying to get the elevator to close faster, Goob grabs Shrimpo from below Glisten and pulls him into the elevator. Glisten hits the floor and breaks his face even more. As he gets up, he shouts at Shrimpo, who is shaking in Goob's arms watch Glisten break down.

Glisten: "YOU PROMISED YOU'D STAY WITH ME-- YOU PROMISED!"

Then, the doors close. Glisten is gone, and Shrimpo is angry and traumatized. How fun.

Shrimpo does not do well after the whole incident. He is much more reserved, but still just as angry. Except to Goob. Goob saving him gave Shrimpo a soft spot for the guy. Also, Goob let's Shrimpo vent to him like the supportive icon he is.

Shrimpo: I think I miss my partner, Goob.

But he's not the only toon Shrimpo talks to.

Vee: "Geez. This crying is ruining your "tough guy" persona."

My sibling gave me the silly idea to have Shrimpo and Vee be "friends" in this bc Shrimp hates Dandy waaaaaaaaaay more after the Glisten incident. And Vee hates Dandy in general, so boom, situation friendship. However, Vee sucks at being a supportive friend.

And some silly stuff my friends requested. Shrimpo chucking Dandy into the stratosphere and Goob being Goob. Healing the world one crappy doodle at a time.

Thank you for looking at the dooles and mindless rant of a grown adult about a Roblox horror game for 9-year-olds. You're a real one. Have a good day broksies.

[lets-try-some-writing]

What’s your thoughts visually on how bots habsuites/ quarters look like? And would they differ between frame types ? As prime big lol Wish we got some media on it :0

Hmm well I do imagine things would differ wildly between each continuity. However, some generalizations might be the following:

Autobots as a whole: Generally speaking, I do imagine the Autobots have habs that match their size and their rank. Rank and file soldiers are bunked together in rooms filled with recharging stations crammed shoulder to shoulder. Most don't mind since they are all together and it's not as if they have anything of their own anyway more often than not. Those further up the chain of command get rooms with less people in them until they finally get a roommate or possibly, if they are super duper special, their very own closet sized space. Actual berths are reserved for those with rooms big enough for them. Most just use recharging stations since it's generally more useful to making the most of a space.

Rank and file soldiers: The average soldier is bunked shoulder to shoulder with his or her comrades. They are each given a standing recharge station boxed right up against everyone else's unless they have an injury which warrants the usage of the handful of berths given to soldiers lower on the chain of command. Generally, such soldiers are kept in huge facilities meant to keep everyone safe and secure rather than comfort them. As such, decoration simply does not happen unless the military position a soldier is stationed at is more permanent. In which case, the soldier might paint their station with odd doodles, splotches of color, or if they are lucky enough to find some, they might slap some stickers on it.

Company commanders and the like: Directly above regular soldiers, various commanders of lower rank get bunked together as well, but they are given a tad more room. This is not a privilege as one might expect, but an actual necessity. Commanders can get called on at any time, and each of them need a little more room to work on reports and whatnot since there simply is not enough space to give each of them an office of their own. As such, their stations are a little farther apart, and between them are their personal effects and maybe something to play the part of a makeshift desk if need be. Decoration is the same as regular soldiers, with the possible addition of medallions, the odd set of fairy lights if one gets lucky, or even a poster or two.

Lieutenants and up: Now this is when a bot would start getting their own space, kind of. Bots of this rank are still bunked with a buddy or two, but they are actually issued rooms in order to supply them with the privacy needed to handle sensitive data. They also get actual berths (which can and often do double as desks). Getting a room means a bot can do almost whatever they like to decorate so long as it sort of aligns with military orders. Most often, lieutenants and the like decorate with weapons on the walls, trophies, artwork, or even murals. It depends on his strict the command center is.

Generals and Prime's Inner Circle: Inner circle bots get privileges, and one of those is a private room. A bot can do whatever the heck they want with their space so long as it doesn't disrupt workflow and the like. Decoration depends entirely on whoever owns the hab. In the case of Ultra Magnus, he lives in a mountain of datapads. Ratchet keeps mementos but will die before admitting it. Jazz has what few instruments he's managed to save. Ironhide decked his room with weapons... the list goes on. There are no limits for the most part. Comes with being constantly under threat of being assassinated.

Prime: Technically, he should be living in a high end facility, never to dirty his digits. But because this is Optimus Prime, he tends to wander. He rests wherever there is a free space and will gladly rest with the soldiers without a worry in the world. The only reason he has a hab at all is for the sake of morale amongst the troops. Although more often than not, it doubles as an extra room for injured troops in need of protection.

Not sure if this is what you wanted anon, but these are my thoughts!

[yandereshingeki]

Milk, Honey, and Sugar

Yandere Eren x Reader

Milk Honey and Sugar Masterlist

previous • next

Word Count: 12.7k

Content: College AU, Yandere content, Obsessive and Possessive behavior, Fluff, Smut, Dark content, Jiyuu beloved

Content Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, Obsessive Behavior, Eren is a bit of a pervert, but somehow also shy about it, reader going thru it, Eren is described at taller than reader, Pet names (Angel, Baby), Dubcon (from stockholm syndrome), Eren is SO WEAK TO YOU, you’re both a bit shy, Reader is implied to be a tiny bit insecure, Tiddy sucking, Falacio, hand job, Little bit of subby! Eren but only a little, description of Eren’s dick lol, reader makes him CRY, mention of him pulling their hair a little, a smidge of edging, aftercare

Summary: After the realization hits that you aren't ever going to see your friends again, Eren is the one to comfort you—slowly turning you more and more dependent on him.

Oh my goddd It's been so long and I'm so sorry!!! A bunch of things got in the way of me writing for a while, but It's finally back! I'm going to try to focus on this series more so hopefully, there won't be such a big gap in posting again! I already have the next part nearly finished so it shouldn't be long before the next chapter! Also, I'd like to say thank you to anyone that's still here after my absence and anyone that's been here from before :,,) I'm so grateful. I hope this is enough to satisfy until the next chapter! There's a little doodle at the end for you all <33 Can't wait to write the most exciting parts of the story!! (In my opinion at least, lol) Please enjoyy

Chapter 7: Warmth (part 1)

The hours grew longer the more days you spent alone.

Your world was quiet, apart from the tick of the plastic analog clock or the occasional sound of water going through pipes and creaking footsteps from above. Being stuck on your own was such a lonely, stir-crazy existence. The only time you found solace from it was when Eren would make his way down the stairs, greeting you with his abnormally gentle smile and a soft kiss, giving you the company you constantly longed for and sometimes a consoling meal.

He had you wrapped around his finger by now, so tired of the isolation and quiet that you’d do almost anything if it meant he’d stay, just to ease your loneliness for a while. He was a distraction you took with little resistance because you didn’t want to think about the pain of being trapped for even a second.

He seemed to be the only thing that helped your ever-fragile mood, the one thing keeping you grounded as your mental stability frayed. It was hell when he would leave you, forcing you to face the cold basement alone again. You’d try to sleep through it, but sometimes your brain wouldn’t quiet and your emotions would explode to the point that you’d bawl your eyes out and sob until your nose was clogged and your head ached, your mind plagued with the overbearing thoughts of your long-gone friends and freedom. If they’d been looking, you were sure they would have found you by now. It should’ve been so obvious who’d taken you. Or maybe, everyone was too trusting of Eren to realize that deep down, he was an obsessive stalker, someone who kidnapped his best friend. 

Either way, your hope of being found had almost completely diminished. With no access to the outside world, you didn’t even know if a search was ongoing. You had no motivation anymore, even for escape—although it’s not like you could because Eren hadn’t let you go upstairs since your last attempt. He hadn’t touched you the same way he did that night either, occasionally letting his soft kisses grow more heated but never going as far as he did then. You almost missed it. The intimacy, that is. He’d been nothing but sweet to you most of the time, even when all you could do was cry into him.

You felt pathetic being in such a state, constantly switching between craving his presence and despising him for taking you away. You barely felt deserving of being rescued since you gave in to your captor so quickly. Would anyone even want to help you if they knew what you’d done with him? How close you’d remained even after his betrayal? It brought a sick feeling to your stomach whenever you thought about it. All of the lame excuses and blaming your actions on your once adolescent crush or your dwindling will to escape. You knew the truth, yet you still didn’t want to admit it.

It’d been four weeks since your failed escape, and just a little over a month of being stuck in the basement—not that you even knew the specifics of how long it’d been because of how your days began to blend. Since your attempt, Eren spent more time downstairs, sometimes taking his entire day off to stay with you, slowly making you more dependent on his presence because it was all you had. 

Akin to every other day, it started with his journey down, breakfast in hand and laptop under his arm, the device fully charged and ready for another day of playing offline games and watching videos or movies. But, also like every other day, his plans, per usual, were halted when he reached the bottom of the steps and saw you curled up on the bed, crying into your palms. 

His guilt overflowed whenever he saw you like that, but he pushed it away when he remembered all the things that could’ve happened if he hadn’t brought you here. All of the people that could have gotten to you, the things they could have done to you. It made him irrationally angry just thinking about it. In his house, you were safe, and he always knew where you were. To him, that was worth the pain it brought you.

Laying everything on the desk, he rushed to sit next to you, trapping you in his comforting arms and pulling you into his lap, “What’s wrong, baby?” 

He always asked that when you cried, always with the same pet names he’d use to try and ease your tears. You always replied that you didn’t want to discuss it, but he knew what the truth behind your sadness was. He knew it was because you missed everyone and you were terrified of telling him. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” You said, as usual, voice hoarse from tears that’d been pouring since you woke up. You put your head against him, soaking the white pajama t-shirt while he rubbed your back and cradled you like a child. His warmth and his pleasant autumn-like scent made it harder to focus on your problems, the comfort pulling you back to him in an instant. Sometimes it was like you were addicted, craving the constant reassurance of his presence and the distraction from your situation. 

This had become almost routine—he would come downstairs or wake up with you, find you crying, and drop everything to comfort you, just to continue whatever he had planned for the day after as if nothing happened. It was such an exhausting pattern for you, but he couldn't care less. All he cared for was being able to have you with him where you were safe. Being able to hold and touch you was just a bonus.

He held you as tight as he could, trying to make you feel secure while compressed in his arms. You could only snuggle into him, pushing your ear against his chest to listen to his racing heart. It was a calming and familiar white noise that helped distract you from the fact that you were probably never going to get out. It helped you feel sane and reminded you that Eren was another human too.

He sighed feeling you ease into him, finally safe enough to relax too. The room was quiet other than the gentle sounds of breathing and the mechanical ticking of the clock. It was almost peaceful like this, just the two of you cuddled up together. Listening to each other’s soft sounds and finding comfort in them.

“Can I have breakfast now?” You asked, your voice still crackling from your dry throat. You were sniffling and your face was still wet from past tears, but you were more hungry than upset now and didn’t want to wait for food anymore.

Eren smiled and slid you off his lap, making sure to plant a loving kiss on your forehead before he got up to grab the wooden breakfast tray from the desk. He walked back, setting it on your lap and revealing the stack of 4 heart-shaped pancakes to you that still radiated the warmth from being cooked. There was a tiny plate of butter and a cup of syrup sitting next to it, along with a ceramic mug of Eren’s favorite drink, his warm milk with honey and sugar mixed in. He always used to give it to you every time you came over, trying desperately to get you to favor it, and every time it always tasted bland. Not bad, but it didn’t fit your normal preference for drinks.

Recently though, whenever he’d give it to you with your breakfast, it was much sweeter than before. The milk and honey blended together with a pinch of dissolved sugar just tasted saccharine all of a sudden.

At first, you questioned if he spiked it, but when nothing happened after you drank it, you abandoned the idea. It felt so strange to suddenly enjoy something you’d been so indifferent about, but you didn’t want to overthink it. After all, you just wanted to enjoy the warmth from whatever he made you—to enjoy his warmth because it was all you had. 

“Well, are you going to eat?” Eren asked, questioning why you were staring at your food for so long.

Realizing that you’d spaced out while deep in thought, you muttered a quick “sorry” before grabbing the dull plastic knife on the tray to spread the butter over your pancakes.

While you were preparing your breakfast to your liking, Eren sat on the bed again, placing his arm behind you and sliding as close as he could without getting in your way, your thighs pressing together and his cheek almost touching your head.

He watched intensely as you cut into the syrup-soaked cake and stabbed into the small piece you separated, chomping down on it. As you chewed and swallowed it, he leaned his head on yours to get your attention, “Is it good? Did you like it?”

Nodding your head, you cut out another piece to shove into your mouth, “They’re really good! Did you make them from scratch?”

Eren smiled, feeling his heart melt when you gave him praise. He always ate up every little compliment you gave him, no matter how small it was. It was like a hit of dopamine every time you were even the tiniest bit nice—and he was addicted to it. Once he’d even kicked his legs and squealed into his pillow after you commented that he looked hot in a picture he posted, but that was a secret he would be taking to his grave.

“It’s my mom’s recipe… I just made them with a heart-shaped pan for the shape.” He replied, leaning into you and burying his face into the side of your neck while you continued to eat.

“I didn’t know you owned a heart-shaped pan,” You paused mid-bite, “When did that happen?”

“I got it when all of the Valentine's Day stuff was on clearance in stores… I just hid it in my room because I didn’t want anyone to see it while they were here.” He explained, his cheeks warming up at the thought of someone other than you seeing he owned such a bright pink and heart-shaped pan.

You giggled at his embarrassment and kept eating, enjoying the sweet syrup-soaked pancakes while you could. They were delicious, but especially warm compared to everything else, and you were so desperate to have that warmth that you were scarfing them down and barely savoring the taste. The sweet milk with honey came next, the most familiar part of the meal. You chugged it down so fast that you could feel its heat travel down to your stomach, officially ending your breakfast that morning.

It almost made you sad whenever you finished your food. You always felt extra cold after, especially without Eren there. It was never fun to experience.

“All done?” Eren asked, not allowing you a response before taking the tray from you. He placed it on the nightstand at the foot of the bed and went back to you, pushing you onto your back and crawling on top of you without warning. 

After taking a moment to maneuver himself around and get more comfortable, he placed his head on your shoulder and embraced you, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress. It hurt a little and almost restricted your breathing, but having what was similar to a heated and weighted blanket on top of you was nice. 

He always did this when you finished your breakfast. It was one of his favorite things to do too. He loved being close to you, breathing in your scent and littering tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone. It felt wonderful to claim you like that.

As you cocooned him with your limbs, he wriggled his way down until his head met your chest, putting his face between your breasts and squeezing you so they squished against his face. You let a gasp slip, face growing hot as a large smile formed on his lips. 

You tried to push against him to get him off, but you struggled immensely from his weight compared to your strength. It took almost all your energy to get him to budge, but he finally got the hint and sat up after minutes of your whining and squirming—only to grab your chest and squeeze as soon as his hands were free. 

You flinched and simultaneously gasped at the sudden grope, yelling at him with fake anger while batting his arms, “You’re such a fucking perv!” 

He chuckled and put his hand on the bed to lean down, his reddened cheeks so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your face, “Yeah, sure. But you love me, don’t you?”

You were silent while you considered what to say, afraid to lie to him but knowing that if you gave him any answer other than yes, he’d probably lose it on you. You did love him. You really did, but not in the way he wanted you to. You didn’t think you did, at least. He was just a safe space for you. A source of comfort while you were trapped. That didn’t mean you loved him, did it?

Growing insecure at your lack of response, Eren squeezed your arm just tight enough to regain your attention and asked you again, this time with more desperation lingering,  “Don’t you, angel?”

Without thinking it over more, you gave him an unconvincing answer, “Yes. I do.”

Satisfied with your response, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and got up to grab his laptop from the desk. You watched him carefully the whole time, sitting up and eyeing him as he picked up the small computer and carried it back to you. 

He placed carefully it in your lap, plopping down and leaning into you like he did during breakfast, his arm slung around your waist. You stared at the sticker-covered computer in your lap, your hands trembling while you considered asking him about going back upstairs again instead of spending another day in bed binging a random show you chose. 

You’d asked previously, even begged him to give you another chance, but his answer was always the same. He’d tell you that he isn’t ready for that, or that he doesn’t trust you yet. If you tried to ask repeatedly or beg for it, he would get angry with you and even lash out, leaving you alone for the entire day as a punishment, no matter how loud your cries got or how much it stung him to hear them. 

“Can I ask something before we start, Eren?” You managed to get out, your words shaking as you spoke.

You could feel him tense up next to you as you asked, his gaze now fixated on the laptop instead of you.

“What is it?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

You opened your mouth to talk but stuttered so much trying to get the first word out that you had to pause again before talking.

“Can I go upstairs for the day?” You pleaded, quickly adding onto it so he couldn’t instantly deny you, “I’ll do anything you want! Please! I just… want to leave the basement for a while.”

Silence followed.

You were shaking, terrified of what he was thinking. He was staring at the floor, his brows furrowed as he ran through all of his options. He wasn’t angry, not yet at least. He only would be if you pushed for it too much, but he still hated having to answer that question. Why couldn’t you just be happy with what he gave you? He understood that you were bored and lonely, but it was still frustrating. It was so, so frustrating.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” was all he could manage in response, because If he said any more or got too aggressive there would be tears. And he was so weak to your tears. It was the sole reason he always had to leave you when you cried to be let out. If he stayed, his already weak spirit might break, and then you could weave your way into having your way and escaping. He didn’t want to risk anything close to that.

Despite his effort to avoid it, tears began to prickle in the corner of your eyes, almost as if on command. You wanted to leave so badly that you were partially willing to give up your hope of escape if it meant you could at least have that. You would give all of it, just to have that ounce of freedom and self-autonomy back. 

“I don’t want to leave anymore, Eren! I promise! Chain my ankles or handcuff me to you, whatever!  Please, just let me go upstairs with you!” You begged. It was evident you were pushing his limit with the look that took over his face, but you didn’t know what else you could do to convince him.

Eren shut his eyes, the frown on his face deepening, “Baby, please. Don’t do this today.”

“Please, Eren. Please.” You begged again, the first fearful tear spilling over your cheek. The look you gave him was painful, his chest tightening the longer he stared at you. You’d done this almost every day for the last week and it was so aggravating. He hated being separated from you but you forced it on him by pleading so often.

He looked away from you and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands as he snapped at you, “Why? Why do you want to so badly?! Can’t you just be happy with what I give you?” 

He finished with a sigh and waited quietly for your response, but nothing came. You were silent. 

It took Eren several moments to realize that you weren’t going to talk back, so when he finally lifted his head and looked at you, the sight ripped his heart in two.

You had your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth covered as you sobbed into it, trying to hide the sounds so you wouldn’t irritate him more, but seeing you cry like that with such obvious fear diminished any anger he had. He hated being the cause of your tears. He hated it.

Pulling you into his arms again and pushing the laptop aside, he apologized profusely and held you tighter. You whimpered into him, gripping his shirt while he pushed your face against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m sorry for snapping, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He had his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair while he repeated his apology, “Please stop crying. Please, you know I hate hearing you cry.”

You hiccuped, holding your breath to choke down your tears. You held it in for a few more moments until you couldn’t anymore, taking an involuntary breath and sobbing into his shirt. In a poor attempt to silence it, you covered your mouth while you cried, quietly begging him not to leave you between sobs. It broke his heart. 

He tried to reassure you, hugging you tightly and petting your head while he cooed, “I won’t leave. I won’t leave this time.”

It took a while, but following a few violent hiccups, silenced sobs, and deep, difficult inhales, your tears were dissipating and you were calming down, clinging to Eren as if your life depended on it. 

He held you close, basking in your touch. He knew why you wanted to leave the basement. He was stupid to think that being trapped there would be enough for you, but after the last time he let you up, he was terrified that you’d try to leave again. If you ever did manage to get away from him, it would mean he’d lose everything, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening. 

You needed to stay with him, where you were safe. Where he could watch over you. But, it was clear you also needed at least a little freedom, otherwise, your mental state could deteriorate even more than it already had, and that would be just as bad as losing you through escape. He didn’t want to reduce you to a shell of your former self. He didn’t want to break you. He just wanted to keep you to himself.

Thinking it over some more while you were wiping your face on his shirt, Eren decided to go against his better judgment and give in to what you wanted, which was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. It was easier that way, considering you were both feeling awful about your situation.

“I’ll—I’ll take you upstairs. I’ll take you upstairs today.” He blurted out, sounding reluctant to say it out loud.

Your entire mood had changed from just that sentence, perking your head up so you could meet his eyes from where you sat on his lap. Eyes wide with excitement, they were lighting up more than they had in the month you’d been stuck there. It was nice for him to see. He’d missed that sparkle so much. 

“I’ll only let you come up if you follow my rules though, okay? If you break them I’m sending you back down and I won’t even think about letting you up for at least a year.” He aggressively added to his previous statement, wanting to be clear with what he expected of you so there wouldn’t be any complaints later.

You rapidly nodded your head, getting ready to agree to whatever he asked if it meant getting that slight sliver of freedom in the end. Lucky for you, he didn’t want to take advantage of your eagerness—not too much at least. He loved you too much to hurt you like that.

With a small sigh, Eren slid you off of his lap and took his laptop, holding out his hand for you after he got up. You took it with a large smile plastered on your face, pulling yourself onto your feet and practically skipping to the stairs because of how happy you were. He was slow to follow after you, not particularly joyful about letting you out of the safe haven he’d created for you, but still willing to if it meant he got to see your bright smile again.

Once he made it to the top, he was hesitant to unlock the door. He really didn’t want to let you out, but when he looked over and saw how excited you looked standing next to him, he couldn’t help but picture how upset you were just prior, and how quickly that changed when he said you could go upstairs. Keeping you locked up and to himself was already selfish enough, he didn’t want to keep suffering even more in a cold basement for his own benefit.

Before he went through the final step of opening the door, he grabbed your hand and squeezed it tight. He was trying to make sure you couldn’t just run off, but also trying to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. With a final heavy sigh, he unlocked the door and turned the knob with his laptop under his arm, pushing it open and revealing the dim light of morning to you.

You tried to run, not with a hope to escape but more so out of excitement—but Eren was quick to pull you back to him and remind you of your place.

“Don’t forget what I told you.” He spoke sternly, the grip on your hand growing tighter to the point that it hurt. 

His rules—to behave. To do what he asked. From the first time he let you upstairs. The same rules that you broke the last time you were here, and not just because he was vague about what “behaving” meant. Of course, you couldn’t forget.

You sounded dejected as you looked at the creaky wooden floor, “I’m just… excited. Sorry.” 

Sighing, he sauntered forward while pushing you with him, taking the lead but ultimately doing what you wanted by going to the living room. 

Jiyuu got visibly excited when you walked into his view, his fluffy wings opening up slightly while he paced back and forth on the giant bird tree across the room, considering if it was worth it to fly over. 

Eren stopped in his tracks, a small smile brightening his face when he realized what the bird wanted. He always thought it was sweet that he liked you, despite parrots' common behavior of being possessive over their owner. It also made your integration into his home a lot easier, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the bird going after you whenever he was affectionate with you.

“Why don’t you go pick him up?” He asked, trying to push you forward, closer to Jiyuu. 

Excited to see the bird—a living creature other than Eren—but terrified of doing something wrong and being punished for it, you turned to look at him, asking for reassurance that this wasn’t a trap, “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I won’t be mad at you for walking away from me this time.” He assured you, the hand on your back pushing you even further, harsher this time to the point you almost stumbled.

You stepped forward with hesitance, slowly gaining confidence the closer you got to Jiyuu, your saving grace from complete isolation with Eren. Watching carefully, Eren stayed behind, his gaze burning holes into the back of your head. It made you so nervous, his eyes fixated on your every move. Being watched so closely was highly unpleasant and anxiety-inducing, and you could tell that Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

Climbing onto you when you held your arm out, Jiyuu was quick to run to your shoulder and puff his feathers up, squawking loudly at Eren. He’d never been especially protective of you, nor aggressive towards Eren, so this behavior was completely new—at least to you. It was especially shocking because of how loud he was able to scream, the sound triggering a constant ringing in your ears. 

“Eren? What’s wrong with him?” You panicked, turning to see what the bird was so upset about that he had to shriek, only to be face-to-face with Eren. His knees bent slightly so he met your height, startling you even more when you unexpectedly met his piercing green pupils.

His eyes were glued to the bird, his hand lifted in front of him so he would step up from your shoulder. To your surprise, the bird nipped at his hand and chewed on it, stepping on it when he was finished and acting like he hadn’t just screamed at him. “He’s just being moody. Don’t mind it too much, he just gets like this sometimes, ‘specially when I’m not in the best mood. He can tell.”

As he put Jiyuu back on the tree stand to chew on more of his toys, he walked closer and wrapped his arm around you, practically forcing you into his chest with his laptop pressed against your back. When his other hand was free from the bird’s talons, it joined his other to squeeze you tightly, keeping you close as he leaned over you, inhaling the comforting scent from your skin and hair.

You returned the hug, trying to distract yourself from the sinking feeling you had in your chest when he implied that he wasn’t in a good mood. It was obvious it was because of you—because you wanted to go upstairs. It made you feel so guilty, but also so afraid. He could be unpredictable when he was upset, which is probably why Jiyuu didn’t like it either.

“Why don’t we just watch some TV for now? Since he’s in such a bad mood and I still want to laze around…” He spoke up, backing away but leaving little space between you and him.

Without a thought, you nodded, ready to agree to almost anything as long as it would improve his mood and keep you out of your personal hell known as the basement. With your compliance, he was quick to drag you back onto the couch, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and pouncing, crushing you under his weight. Your whines went ignored by him in favor of grabbing the remote to activate the TV, bringing up the news before he swiftly changed it to an on-demand streaming service. He put on one of your favorite shows—one you’d already watched, probably dozens of times since you’d come here—and threw the controller

down, burying his face into your chest and engulfing you in his arms.

Resting your hands on his back when you finally processed everything he’d sped through in seconds, you focused more on him than the TV, although only able to see the top of his head and his messy bun. His face was buried between your boobs again, except this time, instead of smiling and teasing you about it, he shut his eyes and eased into you, feeling secure enough to relax with you trapped underneath him. The shift in mood was apparent, but all you could think to do was run your hands through his hair, hoping that would soothe him enough to think about letting you stay upstairs more often. 

It was silent after that, besides the background noise of the TV playing and Jiyuu preening his feathers and chewing wood. You were both clinging to each other, unmoving and resting. Eren was so warm, it almost made you tired—but you didn’t want to sleep. Not when you were finally experiencing what you’d wanted so badly for weeks. You longed to walk around and explore the house more, but he probably wouldn’t let you. It was frustrating.

“Eren?” You said, trying to get his attention on you instead of whatever he was thinking about in the silence.

He hummed in reply, not bothering to lift his head because he was too comfortable with his face against your chest. 

You twirled some of his loose hair between your fingers, silently trying to persuade him as you asked, “Can we go to your room? I want to see more than just your living room and kitchen.” 

Before you could continue with your long-winded speech trying to convince him to let you go to a different part of the house, he interrupted you with a finger over your lips, letting out a muffled “mm-mm” while he shook his head that was still against your chest. You frowned, moving his finger away from your mouth and continuing to push, “Why not?”

A scowl took over his face as he peered up at you, his chin stabbing into your sternum when he replied with aggressive venom in his tone, “Because I said no. Drop it.”

Once you nodded, a look of stinging fear glazing your eyes, his expression relaxed and he put his face back into your chest. Although your response calmed him, his answer did nothing to satiate your curiosity. You’d been in his room a few times prior to the kidnapping, so what was so different about now?

You let out a small sigh, continuing to run your hands through his hair but turning your attention towards the TV that still played your favorite show, although you’d begun to get rather tired of it after watching it over and over so much. Especially now, when watching different shows and dramas was all Eren had let you do aside from occasionally letting you play games on his laptop. As relaxing as the routine used to be, it was starting to grow excruciatingly dull. There were only so many days you could do nothing but laze around before you grew tired of it.

“Eren.” You began again, desperate for something to entertain you. You didn’t want to spend all your time out of the basement doing the same thing you did in it.

With a quiet groan, he lifted his head again and frowned, “What now?”

“I’m bored… I want to do something other than watch TV.”

Realizing that you weren’t trying to annoy him about getting into his room again, his eyes softened and he replied with a sweeter tone, “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You have games, don’t you?”

“In my room, yeah. But I don’t want you going in there right now and I’m not leaving you alone to grab anything.”

“Then what else can we do?”

When you asked, his brows scrunched together and he averted your gaze, deep in thought. You watched carefully, worried that he would become irate if you were too talkative while he was trying to relax. 

Slowly, his cheeks darkened as an idea popped into his head—one he’d usually tried to push away so that he wouldn’t risk making you feel uncomfortable with your already fragile emotional state, but right now? You seemed to be in a better mood, and much more content with doing just about anything to ease your boredom. There was nothing to stand in the way of his selfish desires.

Noticing the way his former annoyance bloomed into a red-faced fluster, you grew worried and tried to turn his head so he’d look at you, only for him to avoid meeting your eyes. His cheeks were burning hot to the touch and you could tell he had something on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” You tried to ask calmly despite the tremble in your voice, mentally preparing yourself for whatever emotion he might reply with.

A silent pause followed, and he barely managed to stutter it out, his hesitancy to explain his thoughts holding the words back, “I thought of something we could do if you are really that against just watching TV, but—but it’s kind of lewd. It’s—It’s really lewd actually.”

You could feel your cheeks grow warm at all the things that could mean, quietly urging him to continue out of curiosity about his desire, “Yes…? What is it?”

He was quiet again before he met your eyes, replying with a faltering voice full of anxiety, “I was thinking that maybe… we could take turns touching each other, and we could—I could learn more about your body… and we could make it into a game, I guess? If you really want to, the person who finds the most sensitive spots on the other person could win. That would make it more fun, right? Would something like that interest you more than TV?”

He stared at you with pleading puppy eyes while awaiting your response, his pupils swallowing his irises that practically glowed as they peered into your soul. 

Your entire face burned hot, now matching his. You were like shy kids confessing to each other, so tense and unnerved. 

Speaking with an unfamiliar kind of softness in his voice, he sounded like he would explode with embarrassment if you didn’t respond well, “We don’t have to, but I just—I just really want to touch you again. Even without the ‘game’ part. I’ve missed it. A lot.” 

He felt so perverted just saying it out loud.

His offer was tempting, but you didn’t know if you could trust it. Your judgment had felt so clouded recently and you’d been giving into him more under the guise of gaining enough freedom to escape, but how much would you need before you tried to leave again? The thought of escaping was crossing your mind less and less, and you were growing used to being with only Eren all the time, getting dangerously close to enjoying it. 

Part of you was terrified of ever leaving, terrified of how your friends would react when they found out what you’d already let him do to you, and terrified of leaving what you’d just started becoming accustomed to—but another part of you was terrified to stay. If you did, how far would things go? How deep of a hole would you dig for yourself before it was too late to get out?

“We don’t have to!” He repeated, pulling you out of your thoughts, “I could just find something else for us to do if you don’t want to,”

“It’s okay! It’s fine, it’s fine. We can do that.” You blurted out without processing what you were saying. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, so satisfying him was the only option even if it went against your better judgment. You could deal with the guilt later, but right now you had to focus on keeping his trust. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to give in and have a little fun with someone you’d trusted while you could, take advantage and get the experience you missed out on years before. You’d rather it be him than a stranger. That’s what you told yourself, at least.

“Really? Are you sure?” He asked again to reassure your consent while his lips shifted into a sly smile.

No. You weren’t. But you’d already made your bed, and you’d rather lie in it than rip off the sheets and start from the beginning, “Yeah. I am.”

There was a small moment of silence, the two of you staring at each other before he jumped off of the couch, swiftly making his way to the tree where Jiyuu was. He was quick to take his feathery friend to his cage, closing the door and covering it with the blanket he’d normally only use for him at night. Despite the bird's clear displeasure of being put to bed early, showcased through his sad-sounding caws as the cage was locked, he left the cover on and returned to you on the couch, towering over you with half-lidded eyes and a beet-red face.

“Uh, could you get on my lap when I sit down?” He asked timidly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You responded by nodding and sliding to the side, allowing him to sit while he dragged you onto his lap to straddle him.

Once again, it grew quiet. You were looking at anything but each other, the awkward tension making it difficult to keep eye contact. You were both used to intimate actions, but not intimate words, so anything you thought of saying fell short before it could leave your lips. 

It felt like you were fumbling teenagers again, lacking experience and not knowing where to begin—although Eren was the only one of you who had any to begin with. The most you had under your belt was some awkward and sloppy kissing between you and your short-term ex-boyfriends from high school, but he didn’t know that.

“Since this is a game… Do I get anything if I win?” You asked first, trying to break the ice and guarantee at least something good would come out of this.

You watched the cogs turn in Eren’s head for a moment before he responded, trying to figure out how to word it so that you didn’t request anything unreasonable after his answer, “I guess you can have something… Just tell me what, as long as it doesn’t have anything to do with leaving.”

It only took you a minute to decide what you wanted, the idea popping into your head rather quickly when you thought about what he would actually be willing to give, “Can I go in your room?”

He sighed hearing your response, a cross glare in his eyes while he reluctantly acceded, “Fine, but only if you A, win, and B, give me until tomorrow to clean it.”

The excitement you had grew rapidly, but just as it peaked, it dissipated when you remembered what you would have to do to get your reward, and the fact that it wasn’t guaranteed in the first place. The small smile that’d grown on your face faded once you realized it, and then the pressure ramped up once again.

“So…” He finally began, a short pause holding him while his eyes drifted down to your chest, his hands landing on your hips where he rubbed small circles into them with his thumbs, “Where should we start?”

You were both anxious, but he was the only one trying to hide it. His hands were shaking, but he tried to mask it with subtle movements down your plush thighs. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to feel all of you and run his hands over your entire body—but he wanted to make sure you wanted it too. He needed you to want it too.

“Wherever you want,” you replied, too nervous to say much else. His hands felt like fire against your cold skin, the feeling of them gliding over your body making your cheeks boil. 

His fingers grazed down to your knees and back up your body, stopping just below your chest to speak quietly, “I want to touch you everywhere though.” 

It was obvious what he wanted to do, but was too nervous to do it. His brows scrunched together while he stared at your chest, sunken in thought. The sight almost had you giggling from how silly he looked like that, so deeply focused on your breasts. To try and urge him forward and get past both of your anxieties, you slowly intertwined your fingers with his, leading his hands up to grope you.

His eyes flicked up to you as he made contact with your chest again, his gaze relaxing and eyes lighting up as they stared into yours. You looked so pretty in your current position, sitting on his lap with your cute thighs squished against him, your hands covering his, and your gorgeous eyes shying away from his stare. 

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asked, leaning in so close that you could feel the heat radiating off of his crimson face while he squeezed you.

Letting out a small squeak from his grip, you decided to skip the verbal reply and gently pushed your lips against his, your noses bumping awkwardly because you were hesitant to do anything that could deepen the kiss further. Despite this, Eren missed the cue and tilted his head to the side, trying desperately to interlock your lips and part yours.

His groping grew rougher as he relaxed, fingers touching your nipples through the thin shirt you wore, the fabric barely shielding how hard they were growing. Your face was burning while he felt you up, sweat beading on your forehead when something stiff pressed against your crotch. 

It was so warm. Everything about him was warm. His body, his demeanor, even his smell. It was all so warm compared to the cold you always felt. Even before he took you away, it was always cold. But he was so warm.

“Eren…” you mumbled into his lips, your pulse rising and your arms falling over his shoulders.

He pulled away for a moment, face still inches away from yours, “What is it?”

“You’re warm.”

You could feel him chuckle as you said it, responding with “So are you.”

He kissed you again, this time carefully pushing his tongue between your lips in a way that was less than forceful and moving one of his hands to the back of your neck to hold you there. His touch sent tingles up your spine, your body melting into his hands. It was like your integrity burned away when he was close, and you couldn’t help but crave more.

Eren’s other palm slipped under your shirt, sliding up your stomach and squeezing your bare breast before lifting the fabric further. Your body tensed again, suddenly growing anxious at the thought of him seeing your chest nude. It’s not like he hadn’t before, but it was only now that it felt so nerve-wracking. You couldn’t pinpoint why, but now the thought made your heart race.

When he finally pulled his face away from yours, giving you time to breathe, it was only so he could pull your shirt over your head and throw it aside. Following that, his mouth was back on yours and he was reaching for your chest again—but this time, you stopped him. You took your arms off his neck to cover yourself, anxiety pulsing at the thought of him looking at you more. You didn’t feel this way the other times you’d been nude around him, so why were you so nervous now? Everything was burning all of a sudden, and it almost made you feel sick.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Eren questioned in his sweetest voice, attempting to quell your sudden fear by backing off to cup your cheek, his other hand resting on your thigh. You tried to look him in the eyes, but your stomach sank when you met them. His irises were the brightest, most intimidating green that made your heart ache, you couldn’t stand to stare. 

“I’m—I’m kind of scared.” You stammered, staring down at his hand while his thumb rubbed small circles into your skin.

His brows furrowed as he overthought what you said, “Just… all of a sudden? It wasn’t like this before, why now?” 

He didn’t mean to seem angry, but his expression showed the opposite. So, feeling pressured with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes, you quietly apologized and began to uncover yourself, afraid of upsetting him and causing any harm that might get you sent back downstairs. He stopped you immediately, grabbing your wrists and holding them so your arms still covered you. 

“Don’t apologize… It’s fine if you don’t want to.” He reassured, reaching to grab your shirt beside him on the couch, “I don’t want to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Sadness laced his tone, his expression matching it as he pulled the garment over your head. It wasn’t because you were hesitant to go further with him, you knew that, but your heart hurt to see him making such a face. So sad, even with the tiny smile on his lips that was meant to reassure you. It was more than just wanting to stay upstairs. You wanted to make him feel happy. Even if you felt guilty about how you would do it.

“No, no, Eren…” You stopped him from pulling the shirt down, pushing it back over your chest while you wiped your watering eyes with your other arm. “It’s—It’s not that. I'm just—I’m—So nervous.” 

“What are you nervous about?” He asked, trying to avoid the temptation of looking at your now bare torso while he addressed the issue at hand. 

“I don’t know,” you started, mentally going through the list of things that were making you anxious to find something to say other than the truth about the shame you felt, “This is just… a lot different than the last few times you’ve seen me naked. You’re so close so you’re going to see… everything.”

“I don’t care what they look like. The only thing I care about is that it’s you.” He grabbed your hands and squeezed them, cheeks blazing red as he leaned close to you to confess, “You’re perfect to me. So perfect.”

Your heart began to swell again, this time for a different reason. 

He always made you feel so wanted, even before he took you away, his words like a warm blanket around your needy heart. It almost had you crawling into his hold, with no intention of ever leaving. No one ever praised you like he did, so maybe that’s why it had such a large effect on you. You were so susceptible to it that it was dangerous to your escape, constantly tiptoeing the line between enjoying the praise and falling face-first into Stockholm syndrome. It was a dangerous game you were playing, and without even realizing, you were losing. 

“Can… you touch me again?” You asked quietly after letting his praise marinate in your head for a minute, prying your hands out of his to pull your shirt over your breasts again. 

Shocked by your sudden switch-up, his eyes widened for a moment before he awkwardly nodded while placing his hands on your waist, finally letting his eyes trail down to your breasts.

Seeing them so close sent blood rushing not only to his face, but also down under, his already semi-hard on pushing uncomfortably against his pants. He wanted to brand them with his bites and kisses, cover them in his spit, and bruise them with hickeys to claim them as his. He was opposed to rushing you though, so all he could do was drag his hands up your torso until they finally cupped around your soft flesh, squeezing lightly just to confirm that he was really touching you and that it wasn’t just another wet dream.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to repeat his reassurances in your head while he fondled you. His normally cold hands were warm against your skin, squishing and playing with your chest and making your already hot body feel like it was burning. 

He was pushing them together, bouncing them, and holding them in his palms. It was so embarrassing, but you were trying desperately to keep it together. When you finally brewed up enough confidence to pry your eyes open, you saw how happy he looked, as silly as it was, and it took everything inside of you not to let out a giggle that could’ve embarrassed him. You wanted him to keep enjoying himself, even if your face burned from the awkwardness of it.

But just as you were growing used his hands on you, he threw a question at you that hit like a brick to the face, draining every ounce of courage out of you in a split second, “Can I… suck on them?”

He was leaning towards your chest as he spoke, looking up at you with anticipating eyes that made another wave of intense heat flare through your face. You were barely getting used to his fondling, but to suck on them? You might faint. With no experience except your own fingers and numerous toys, you didn’t even know how sensitive your nipples could be. The thought of squirming around in his lap while he lapped so leisurely on your tits made you shiver. But at the same time, it also piqued your curiosity and made the warmth between your thighs grow. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s—That’s fine. Just—be gentle, ok? No one’s ever done that to me before…” You replied with a shaking voice, brows pushed together with worry while you avoided eye contact.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked rhetorically, hungry eyes still gazing up at you as he leaned towards your chest. He broke his stare to pull your shirt up and off again, cupping your breasts and latching onto one of your nipples like it was all he was born to do. 

You winced in response, anxious to experience the feeling for the first time. Just having your sensitive bud in his mouth felt so different, so warm and wet—so when he took a long, slow lick, you couldn’t stop the whimper that left your throat. 

He almost lost his composure right then when he heard that noise. It was amazing, like a slice of a heavenly melody he wanted to keep locked in his brain forever. He wanted more of those sounds. He needed more of them.

With your other breast cupped in his palm, he started to pinch and nudge the bud while he sucked softly on the one in his mouth. You were already letting out more quiet whines, holding the back of his head while your fingers tangled in his hair. You couldn’t even begin to explain the burning pleasure that rippled from your chest to your core or the throbbing ache that proliferated between your thighs. It felt so much better than you imagined, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Eren being the one to do it made your heart race. 

Desperate to pry more sounds from you, his intensity rose by the minute, lips tugging on your nipple and fingers pinching the other. As more soft whines and moans spilled from your mouth, your spine arching to push your chest further into his face, he could feel the stiffness in his pants painfully begging to be freed. You sounded beautiful, he just wanted to throw you onto the couch and fuck you senseless while you cried out. Holding back from that was so hard, especially with all the cute noises you were making. He wanted to take you right here, but he knew he’d have to be patient if he didn’t want you to feel rushed or forced. He needed to be like a wolf stalking its deer. Slow, calculated, determined.

Pulling away from your mound, he looked at your swollen, spit-covered bud, smiling to himself with newfound confidence while moving to your other one. His possessive feelings were growing with each mark he left on you, every new blemish claiming another piece of your body for himself. Once he had all of you, god knows how he’d act.

He had one arm around you, pushing you closer to him to make it easier for him to swallow your chest while his hands groped your ass and felt up the wet spot between your legs, just barely tugging at the hem of your shorts when the opportunity arose. He was sucking hard, running his tongue diligently over the nipple and flicking it repeatedly to steal more moans from you. Every noise, every whimper, and every whine was just more motivation to him, fueling his excitement to keep touching you and eventually have you touch him. He almost couldn’t take it anymore, the bulge in his pants becoming increasingly painful the longer this went on.

It seemed he finally snapped after a few more minutes of vigorous sucking and quiet whimpers, grabbing your arms and forcing his face away from your chest after he heard you whisper out his name. As much as he wanted to continue the petting, he needed to have you now or he might just burst. 

“Fuck whatever stupid idea I had for a game, I need you to touch me. I need you to touch me now, please.” Eren begged, sounding more desperate than you’d ever heard him before, almost growing teary-eyed at how pent-up he was becoming. His hips were roughly grinding into yours, praying for anything to rub against or release his tension. He was so frantic that you thought he might get on his knees and beg if you said no.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were curious. You wanted to know what he felt like and how he would react. You wanted to revel in the feeling of being desired so badly.

“You want me to touch you… that bad?” You asked, your voice quivering from the intense feeling rumbling through your body that you could only describe as heavy. Without Eren’s support, you would probably collapse into a hot mess on the couch.

Eren’s eyes grew wide as if you were spouting nonsense in a language he didn’t understand, “Of course I do! Why the hell do you think we’re here in the first place? I’ve never wanted anything so badly!”

His hands were shaking out of frustration, his grip strong enough to leave marks. Though, when the fear gleamed in your eyes and your muscles tensed up, he was quick to calm, loosening his hold and sliding his hands down to hold yours instead.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just… so, so desperate. I want you so badly,” He apologized, looking down to avoid shameful eye contact with you, “I need you. Badly.”

You stared at him quietly for a moment, playing around with the ideas in your head before deciding through your lust-clouded judgment that you wanted him too. In the moment, you didn’t care if you would regret it later. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted to have control over him, if only for a little while.

For once, you were the one to make the first move, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on his forehead while you reached your hand to his groin. His entire body stiffened as you put your hand on the tent in his pants, his cheeks flushing when he peeked up at you with that desperate look in his eyes.

“Please—Please be gentle. Don’t squeeze it too much, I don’t—know how much I can take…” He stuttered out as if the fabric holding his cock back hurt any less than you squeezing him too tightly would.

Nodding, you caressed him again, watching carefully as his eyes squeezed shut and he leaned back, uttering a soft moan from your hand on the underside of his cock. He was still tense, but you could see that he was enjoying your touch, so you carried on. Beginning gently, you cupped him through the thin fabric of his pajama pants and massaged your hand up and down his pulsing shaft, eventually moving to tug at the band around his waist to silently ask permission to free him from his confines. 

Although you wanted to take it slow, you were also desperate to see and touch him without the barrier separating you; and it seemed like he was too. That much was evident when he didn’t bother to let you pull his pants or boxers down, ripping them off himself and leading your hand back to his freed shaft by your wrist.

Catching on quickly, you tightened your hand around him and eyed up his length, examining it while he went back to gasping at every little movement you made. He was a lot bigger than you expected him to be up close, not to mention how heavy he felt in your palm. Seeing all of the little things you hadn’t noticed previously, it looked so different too. 

Veins crawled up from the bottom of his girth, stopping a few inches before reaching his head, and he was swollen and red at the tip, already leaking precum. His bush was well-trimmed, a tiny freckle at the base of it, and it curved upwards while it twitched in your hand. You never thought you’d see a dick that looked so… perfect. Just holding his weight in your hands had you clenching around nothing, the thought of it filling you up passing through your mind more than once.

You slowly moved your hand up, stopping with your thumb on the underside of where his head and shaft met. You’d read online about men being sensitive in that spot, and it appeared to be true by the way his breath hitched when you ghosted your digit over it. Curious, you pressed lightly and caressed the spot up and down, causing his hips to jolt unexpectedly while a louder gasp left his throat. 

“Ohh my god. Oh my god.” He breathed out, pushing his elbows into the cushions behind him to grip the couch beneath his thighs more efficiently. He’d never felt this good, even with his other, more experienced flings in the past. Even with less skill and precision, you were just so much better.

You were you. His dream. Everything he’d ever wanted in life. That’s what you were. His most prized possession, his most important person. That alone made everything feel superior. Because it was you doing it.

Enjoying the erotic look on his face, you kept up your motions and continued to stroke the spot below his head, sending him into a frenzy of squirms and whimpers as he grew overstimulated just by the pad of your thumb. His hips bucked up, desperate to get more friction to tip him over the edge of his already approaching orgasm.

“Fuck—Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels.” He uttered under his breath, voice shaking as you rubbed even faster. His whimpers were high-pitched, turning into something more akin to whines as he neared the end; but just as he was reaching the hilt of his pleasure, you pulled your hand away, leaving him to cry and plead for your touch again. 

Seeing him so desperate for it was such a change from his usual self. It was like the roles swapped, and now you were the one that had him wrapped around your finger. You never wanted it to end. You longed to keep what little control over him you had for as long as you could. Plus, he looked cute when he was the one tomato-faced and begging.

Leaning close, you kissed his jaw while he audibly sniffled, reaching up to put your hand behind his head and push it forward to kiss his forming tears away. He whimpered again, one hand clawing the couch while the other flew to your hip. You pecked his face, slowly trailing to his lips so you could kiss, fully entrapping him in the scheme forming in your head. 

Your fingers wrapped around his shaft for a second time, shocking him into pulling away before you pushed your lips against his again, assertive about keeping his mouth against yours. He was already moaning into you, grip growing tight as you began moving your hand up and down his length.

He was practically melting underneath you, arms trembling as your hand worked his hardness, pumping it rapidly. His cries for you were only growing louder, turning into muffled chants about how close he was to finishing. You loved to hear it, but you knew you didn’t want it to end so soon.

Once again, you let go of him, moving off of his lap and taking a seat next to him on your knees while he whined about your second absence. However, his complaints ceased when he realized what you were doing, your head already moving closer to his length and your hand taking its place at the base of it. 

“Wait, wait,” He panicked, trying to stop you, reaching forward to grab some of your hair and pull your head away, “Are—Are you sure you want to do that? It doesn’t taste as good as you might think.”

Your mouth changed from its open “O” into a pout, a frown taking over your features as he stopped you from finishing him off, “I know what I want, Eren. Please let me.”

With your familiar longing gaze piercing his, he was quick to give in and remove his hand from your head, thanking the lord that he held the motivation to wash himself regularly and make sure he was clean every time he interacted with you. Right now you wanted him almost as much as he wanted you, and if you were so certain about it then he wasn’t about to stop that. He needed to take his chance to savor it because god knows how long he’d wanted this and when he'd get another chance. You finally wanted him too, so it would be foolish to stop now.

“Just… don’t push yourself.” He muttered, running his hand down your back while you resumed what you were doing before.

You nodded with a quiet hum, placing a gentle kiss on the head and taking an experimental lick just below. Tracing the pad of your finger up and down his veins, you took in all of the little shudders you managed to coax out of him and began a trail of kisses down the underside of his length. The way he was almost pouting with embarrassment while his cheeks were such a deep shade of red was adorable, it just made you want more. You wondered if this was how he felt about you most of the time, so enamored that he couldn't think about anything other than your face.

Reaching the base with your pecks, his cock twitching every time you made contact, you stuck out your tongue and pressed it against him. Slowly and tediously, you dragged it back up to the top, leaving a trail of saliva in your wake while Eren bit back a whine. A few more frivolous kisses to the tip and you finally took him into your mouth, pushing your tongue against him while you lowered your head as much as you could without gagging.

Lifting your head, you peered up at him, studying his face while you tried to force more into your mouth, unable to fit more than a few inches before tears emerged in the corners of your eyes. He was so big, you could barely get anything in, but that didn’t seem to affect the amount of pleasure it gave him when you finally began bobbing your head. Eren was already turning into a mess again, but the second you started moving the hand on his shaft in rhythm with your mouth, he nearly broke down crying from the feeling. 

Tracing shaky hearts on your back, he stared down at you, trying to burn the image he saw into his memory and lock it away for safekeeping. It was exhilarating to see you like this, so much so that he had to cover his mouth to prevent the moans that slipped out from growing too loud. He couldn’t handle it, especially after being edged twice, he was going to go crazy if you didn’t let him finish this time. 

Holding himself still was the most difficult thing, especially when all he wanted to do was hammer into your throat like there was no tomorrow—but he didn’t want to make you choke on him. Not yet, at least. It felt too early to be that rough with you. 

Being built up and denied satisfaction the last two times meant it wasn't long before the band was stretched again, dangerously close to breaking. The way your tongue pressed against the sensitive spot below his head, the way your fingers curled around him and stroked everything that didn’t fit in your mouth had him gasping for air. It was driving him up the wall, pushing him so close that he could feel himself at the very edge, nearly tumbling over it even if you weren’t the best at what you were doing. 

When your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching his ruby-red and sweat-slicked face twisted with pleasure, he finally snapped. You watched his eyes squeeze shut as he threw his head back, crying out in whimpers as he lost control of his hips through his orgasm, repeatedly chanting “I love you” between swears.

You couldn’t help but gag as more than you could handle was shoved down your throat, eyes going wide as your mouth was coated with a bitter taste that made you wince. You had to pull away while he was still coming, coughing and gagging more at the feeling of his release in your throat while the rest spilled over your hand.

Eren was apologizing under his breath, still struggling through the pleasure of his climax—but you decided to push him the slightest bit further as revenge for making you choke, massaging your finger over the same spot you had earlier and sending a shock through his entire body again. You continued to touch him as you sat up, leaning into him with your head on his shoulder so you could feel the way he shook from the overstimulation. 

“Please—Please, oh my god I can’t take it.” He cried, tears bordering his eyes as you teased him. Seeing that you didn’t want to go too overboard, you decided to give him mercy and let go, watching him go limp as his body finally relaxed. He was panting, covered in sweat like he’d just finished one of the intense basketball scrimmages you used to watch him do, even though he’d only gotten sucked off and pleasured. It was almost cute to you, mostly because it made it much more obvious how much of a hold you had on him, and you enjoyed it. You enjoyed being desired.

  Following a few minutes of quiet, filled only with sounds of his panting and shuffling of you snuggling against his arm, he spoke up again through pants, slowly coming back into his normal headspace that was dedicated to caring for you, “Was… Was that okay? Are you doing okay?”

Your eyes half-lidded while you stared at him from his shoulder, you nodded with a smile spreading across your lips. The bliss of everything was still holding onto you, the giddy feeling that bubbled in your chest stemming from the moments prior. You just wanted to stay like this, cuddled up against him while you relaxed together in sweet silence, only broken occasionally by your back-and-forth comments about aftercare and gentle kisses to his collarbone.

When Eren finally decided to get up, still so delirious from the pleasure that he hadn’t even thought about how you were out of sight, it was only to grab a rag and some water from the kitchen. Then was back on the couch as quickly as he’d left, tidying you up and pulling you into his lap to cradle you. While you clung to him, burying your face into his neck, he leaned forward to grab your shirt from the floor, quickly pulling it over your head so you could get back to cuddling. 

You were feeling oddly clingy, more so than before. You just wanted to stay in his arms, snuggled up to his warm body. It was the most at peace you’d felt since you’d been taken. It felt nice. 

Suddenly pulling you out from your comfort, Eren pushed your face away from his neck, eliciting a whine from you as he grabbed the glass of ice water and brought it up to your lips, “Come on, you should drink. I know that I probably didn’t taste very good…”

Pouty about being pulled away, you snapped back playfully with a raised brow while pushing the glass away, “How would you know what you taste like?” 

His face twisted in embarrassment, his brows furrowing as he stammered trying to explain himself, “Well, I don’t, but I’ve just—I’ve been told it doesn’t taste very good.”

You giggled at his response, “That doesn’t mean you don’t taste good to me,” even though it was true that he tasted rather foul.

Slightly flustered, Eren quickly tried to regain control of the conversation, feigning confidence while placing his hand on your nape to push your face close to his, “Well why don’t you let me have a taste for myself so I can see?”

“Mm, how am I supposed to do that?” You asked.

“Like this.” He replied, pushing his lips against yours and dipping his tongue into your mouth before pulling away just as quickly, leaving you stunned at his sudden shamelessness.  

While you were still staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, he pushed the glass cup into your hands, forcing you to hold it as he guided it up to your mouth. Finally pulled out of your trance, you let out a small sigh and took a sip, the cool water finally washing away the bitter taste his release had left in your mouth. 

“I guess I don’t taste that bad,” He started, which on its own almost caused you to spit out the water, only to be shocked again when he continued the statement, “Or maybe I was just tasting you.”

You nearly choked while trying to swallow, yelling out afterward and slapping his shoulder, “Eren!”

“Shh, shh, just come here so I can hold you again.” He cooed, taking the glass from you and pulling you against him, “My angel.”

Pressing kisses to your head, he smiled as you snuggled into him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck while he pet your hair. With both of you relaxed, it was quiet once more, the two of you cuddled into each other as the silence surrounded you, leaving you both to your thoughts.

Eren was thinking about what you’d said, about what you wanted if you won his “game.” Even if you didn’t remember it in the moment, he would feel bad if he didn’t give it to you eventually. Not to mention, you were smart. You’d end up asking about it again at some point. He knew you would, and the thought of it made him anxious.

It’s not that he didn’t want you to go into his room, it was just that the things he had out would be deathly embarrassing for you to see. Once he got the chance to clean everything up, it would be fine for you to come in. If anything, he wanted you to stay in his room. He wanted to be able to trust you enough to sleep in his bed with him, to experience that kind of deep intimacy with you; but with everything you’d done recently, he still wasn’t sure about it. However, he did have a somewhat peculiar idea about what you could do to gain his trust—one that would get the authorities off of his back too if he played the cards right. Your reaction to the idea would tell him all he needed to know about how much he could trust you too. It was brilliant—at least to him, it was.

As if your minds were parallel to one another, you decided to speak up and ask about what’d been promised to you, “Hey… am I still gonna get my reward since I technically won that game you mentioned?” 

“Funny you say that actually, I was just thinking about it,” he began his reply, tightening his arms around you so that you would be as flush against him, no space separating you, “And I thought about something else we could do that you might like a little more.”

Jumping to the conclusion that he was trying to back out of his past agreement, a frown formed on your face and you opened your mouth to scold him, only to be stopped with a finger pushed to your lips followed by his loud shushing.

“Shh! Just let me finish before you chew me out!” He hushed you, pressing kisses between your wrinkled brows until they relaxed, then continuing, “My idea wasn’t that different from yours. It’s pretty much the same. I’ll let you come into my room tomorrow, except I’ll also let you stay the night with me there.”

Again not allowing him to finish, you interrupted excitedly with a smile already taking over your face, “Really? In your bed? With you?”

Eren already spent many of his nights downstairs with you, but that wasn’t the same as sleeping with him in his bed. Sleeping in his room not only meant you were free from the unfriendly aura of the basement, but that you would have light when you woke up. You could wake up to the warm morning sun for the first time in a month. You’d missed it so much.

“Yes. With me.” He began again, clearing his throat and frowning at your repetitive habit of interrupting him, “But only under one condition.” 

Taking note of his annoyance, you stayed quiet this time, eyeing him as a way of silently asking him to continue.

“You need to call the police department tomorrow morning and tell them you don't want to go home.”

taglist; @kpostedsum @missyasma @localdepressedvampire @chateks @erenyeagerdrip00 @beclover @tiffanyy-21 @momoewn @alienvarmint @berriesandcrem @erenjagerwifee @Sashaisahoeee @jkeluv @bobateasilverpearl (ask to join, and since it's been a while let me know if you changed your username and want to be back on the taglist or leave it! <;3)

[edledamianfan]

A dance with old love - doodle

tu falta de querer made me so sad :(( for like 2 hours it's crazy while i think of them

From the start i've always thought of Jon having a crush on Damian when he was a kid. Cause when I read the supersons comics Damian seems to show Jon a whole new world, a whole new adventure, minus the magic carpet ride - it's a motorcycle ride instead lol. Definitely, Jon would admire Damian because of it amongst other things. Depending on how you depict their relationship, yes Jon could just idolize him (he's my hero! sort of thing) and admire him. But I just like the idea of Jon not knowing he was pinning on Damian until he realizes. Then age up ruckuss happened and with everything that's going on in their life, Jon is not the same guy anymore. He matured i guess, no longer having a silly crush on damian but sometimes he thinks of his first love (or maybe his first male crush) on Damian and wonders how nice it was (mostly when he's looking at Damian). Jon till this day still looks at Damian with admiration with some kind of fondness in their eyes people can't place on. As for Damian, he was aware Jon seemed to admire him a lot when he was a kid, maybe he did know of the silly crush instead so when Jon came out to him he wasn't surprised at all. How did Damian feel about it? Well he used to think of it as funny as a child, now a silly knowledge about Jon from when they were kids. It didn't change anything much. Damian still depends on him wholeheartedly (half-heartedly, he can be a bit incompetent at times) but he always depends on Jon's good nature, dorky and anything that made him lovable. They never discussed the crush, just kept it to themselves. They're fine just how close they are now just enjoying life an each other's company. Maybe one day when they're older. But would these feelings have bloomed into something more had something happened between them? They try not to think of it much.

[g1rld1ary]

bloody genius ; anthony lockwood x fem!reader

➻ rushed to get this out before I go out tonight (wish me luck lols) but am pretty fond of it !!

➻ word count: 1686

➻ synopsis: after a long night of sifting through research for an impossible case with lockwood, you do something you didn't quite mean to

➻ warnings: light mentions of series typical murder/violence, kissing, idiots in love

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You groaned, tipping back in your chair and rubbing your eyes, trying to make them see straight. You and Lockwood had been pouring over photocopied newspaper articles, floor plans and assorted research for hours and you weren’t getting any closer to stringing any of it together. With Lockwood & Co steadily improving their reputation, the company was getting more and more cases with shorter and shorter timeframes. To combat this influx of cases and the consequent research that needed completing, you’d all decided to split the load where possible. This meant that currently George and Lucy were in the library researching one case whilst you and Lockwood had shut yourselves in the kitchen to struggle through another.

You supposed you had the better deal, though, supplied with easy access to tea, the thinking cloth, and, of course, Lockwood. He was your secret favourite out of your coworkers-turned-family, though if you asked Lucy she’d say it was no secret at all. Regardless, that brought you to the current moment where the thinking cloth was filled with nonsensical lines following trains of thought, all edges punctuated with a frankly ridiculous number of question marks.

Lockwood himself looked almost as frustrated as you felt, but you could tell he was trying to hide it and save face. He caught you staring and flashed a smile, but it lacked its usual charm when his eye bags were more pronounced than usual.

“Hey,” He said softly, putting his hand over yours to stop you drawing stress doodles — the latest one a crudely drawn murder scene, “We’ll get it soon, just gotta find the connection between it all.”

“Sure, Lockwood.” You tried for a smile but it came out as more of a grimace and Lockwood could see the exhaustion etched into your features. He frowned, more concerned for your wellbeing than the case at the moment.

“Maybe you’ve done enough for tonight? Go get some sleep and we can pick back up in the morning?”

“Are you going to go to bed?” You asked, already sure of the answer, “I’m not leaving you to do this on your own, not this time.” He opened his mouth to argue but you shut him up with a glare. He held up his hands in light-hearted surrender. As an alternative Lockwood suggested a break; only a few minutes, but enough for you to make two new mugs of steaming tea and him to crack open a new packet of biscuits. “I’ll even let you break the biscuit rule,” He stage whispered, ducking out of the kitchen to check on Lucy and George and refill their own stash of snacks.

You watched him go, smiling softly. You loved evenings like this — well not like this where trains of thought didn’t quite make it to the station and you had the infuriating feeling of knowledge being held just out of reach, but nights where you were all home and together. You liked them even more when it meant you got to spend time with Lockwood and he got like this; treating you just a little bit differently to George or Lucy, offering you extra biscuits and giving you that soft smile, the one that made your heart flutter in a way it probably shouldn’t when looking at your boss. It fed your delusions of one day telling him how you feel, sure, but the lightness of his attention overpowered the inevitable heartbreak you’d face when he got a date that wasn’t you.

He returned with a confident grin, snapping you out of your stupor. You buried yourself in a new file, scanning for anything that could make sense of the mess of a case you were given. Maybe a Type Two, could be a poltergeist or not, who knows who the ghost was — the whole thing was ridiculous and you had no idea why Lockwood would even take it, but he said he felt sorry for the poor old man who came to the doorstep of 35 Portland Row. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, knee-deep in paper.

Your eyes were glazing in and out of focus until you caught a snippet of something that had you gasping and tumbling out of your chair, standing frenetically in front of Lockwood looking ready to perform.

“What if I told you,” You said grinning, “That your dear old man had a sealed criminal record until a few years ago? For being a suspect in a murder case no less!” Lockwood was solely focused on you now, dark eyes searching your face for more information. You were no less enthusiastic, eyes scanning the police report quickly for the relevant information. “He was a suspect in the murder of a Charlotte Black back in the 50s. Her sister alleged that the two were involved but the police found no evidence of his involvement, nor of their relationship at all, with the exception of two letters the sister sent during the time of the investigation. Officers on the case said his apartment was ‘severely lacking a female touch’ — ouch — and said to them he was definitely not in a relationship. The record was sealed because the allegations had a dire impact on his accounting firm!” You were buzzing despite the grim subject matter, as you’d finally found the link that could tie the case together.

Lockwood was similarly ecstatic. “Obviously the relationship had to be a secret for whatever reason which was why there’s no marriage certificate or record of letters between them. The letter I was looking at before must’ve been from this sister, it detailed her desire for independence and her interest in his business. She found out about his shady numbers—” He jumped up to grab a letter of complaint over botched figures from a client, “He got mad and killed her! Y/n you’re a bloody genius!” You flushed at the compliment.

“And she’s here now because he’s coming out of retirement, he bragged about it when you were hearing his case! God, it would just be great if we had, like, one more piece of evidence, just to confirm they knew each other,” You sighed, clenching your fingers at the single hole in the puzzle.

The door opened suddenly and George appeared, holding a small folded piece of paper.

“I think this might be from your case, not ours — odd looking couple,” George said, popping the photo on the edge of the dining table, giving a quizzical look at the two of you standing in the middle of the kitchen before heading back to the library. You and Lockwood exchanged a look, almost too scared to take a peek, it was too perfect. You grabbed the photo of Charlotte Black her sister had attached to the letter, plus the one of the man that you’d found in a local newspaper in the archives and laid them both out on the table for comparison.

Lockwood sucked in a nervous breath before slowly peeling open the photo. You couldn’t contain your joy, it was them! The whole night was suddenly worth it, the two of you jumping around the kitchen like little kids on Christmas. One second you were doing a stupid victory dance and the next your lips had pressed themselves to Lockwood’s. The moment you’d become cognisant of what had happened you stepped back, feeling your heart plummet to your toes. This was not how you’d imagined that would happen. Plus, Lockwood’s unusually stoic face was igniting your anxiety, cold spreading through every branch of your veins.

“Oh my God,” You breathed, willing your legs to work, “I am so sorry, Anthony.” Your body caught up to your brain and you headed to the door until you were pulled back, a hand on your waist twisting you to face him again. And then his lips were on yours with purpose this time, the hand not on your waist finding its way to cup your jaw. When your brain was done short circuiting you matched his fervour tenfold, bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt to bring him impossibly closer.

You only pulled away when you were at genuine risk of passing out, unable to conjure a single word. Lockwood gazed at you with glossy, blown out pupils. That, mixed with the pink blush on his cheeks and swollen lips created your favourite ever version of Anthony Lockwood — an image you hoped would be privately yours from now on.

“So, is this where I ask to take you on a proper date, love?” He asked, his smile melting your heart into a puddle in his hand. You couldn’t let him have all the fun, though, and willed yourself to produce a teasing grin.

“Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” Your eyes strayed to the clock on the wall that showed an inappropriately early hour of the morning, “I think we both ought to get some sleep, tomorrow’ll be a big job. Goodnight, Anthony.” You punctuated it with a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping out of the room to silently scream as you bound up the stairs, victory dance making a reappearance behind your safely closed door.

Anthony was left standing in the kitchen like a fool, hand sitting softly where you’d kissed him. A lovesick smile passed his face, thoughts of the impending case long gone from his brain, and in their place sat pictures of you and a looping memory of you slotting your lips between his. He wasn’t sure how long he was standing there basking in your light, but Lucy walked past to drop her mug in the sink, shooting Lockwood a knowing look before heading up to the attic. Lockwood found himself giggling uncharacteristically, giddy with the glee of finally telling you how he’d felt since you first walked through the door of 35 Portland Row.

[mack-timelines]

Your occasional Lav!Max doodles have arrived

Context: Sam is calling Mama B if she's figure out that the hell up with Max yet, no results... Oh thats Max's pet Rabbit called Ratface LMAO, She has done nothing wrong yet Max doesn't like her, but he eventually warms up to her company. I love the whole vibe of this drawing <3 Other trashy doodles below with more au stuff-

The third one is the oldest lol- context on the last two Max is getting better over-time since he confessed to Sam and Sam is staying home more :D!!! Getting his happier mood back FOR RATFACE MAX NAMED HER- AND LIKE-

excuse the horrible drawing old stuff, He's jealous man Like a healthy ol' rabbit Sam finds adorable while he's over here dying thinking he's a burden to Sam. YEAH he's all like, Sam wont replace me with you, you cant even talk nor beat up a street punk. Sam got her to keep Max company- (no rabbits were harmed in the making of this au) Putting that there to say Max aint gonna hurt her-

[nocandnc]

~Hoshina doodles for my Edo Period AU~

I say doodles, but I spent too much time on this one!! I originally wanted to draw a full pose of him in samurai armour, but there's so much detail to cover... It was too intimidating >.<;;;

I also added a little Konomi cameo to round out the composition ^///^

Just like his ancestors in the canon timeline, Hoshina is a kaiju-slaying swordsman... but if he's not out on official business, I think he'd like to go around pretending to be a commoner (abet a rather rich one, like a merchant's son or something) rather than making his higher status known most of the time.

On their first meeting, Hoshina asks Konomi to act as bait for the kaiju he's hunting by using her music as a lure - promising to cut them down before she's eaten. She agrees, and he's so smitten with her guts and singing talent that he invites her to travel with his company... just until she can regroup with her fellow goze.

Hoshina calls her 'Oko-chan' here, not short for 'Okonogi' (as she doesn't have a surname) but O-Konomi-chan. 'O' is an honorific prefix that saw a lot of use in the past when wanting to address a woman respectfully... but then he's shortening her name and adding 'chan' at the end - so he's sort of feigning good manners while actually being overly familiar lol

[jazzyblusnowflake]

In what ways do you believe V would display romance and affection?

V is... a difficult one smh. she hardly even allows anyone to touch her, and the solver had altered her AI beyond the possibility of her being able to relearn a new personality easily- or at least not overnight. Its like a semi-perminant trauma response.

so lets see-

V is prideful, even if she doesnt flaunt it like J, she couldnt bring herself to actually face people when shes doing something kind for them, she usually does it from behind the curtain. she doesnt want anyone to know she has anything soft about her, shes still scared of getting hurt, we have seen this several times during the show where she gets put off by the solver when Uzi uses it.

But when in a relationship she had to deal with the fact that the bond has to go both ways. it was... not easy for her to even admit she liked to be in a relationship in the first place. in fact i doubt if any of them even thought about it at all- before they knew what was happening they were all just an inseperable part of eachothers lives, and try as she might, N and Uzi just knew she cared about them lol.

V learned to open up a bit more. She opts for silence rather than flat out lying to peoples faces now, and when she feels ready to share something the others hear her out.

another thing that V does is trying to participate in things N and Uzi suggest. its really not easy to deal with 2 people who are so emotionally charged- so N and Uzi dont blame her for sitting out of activities but she tries to join them just to have the company, like going out around the desolate human cities looking for random stuff and sharing interests, or cuddling in a fort and doodling stuff- maybe even sometimes dancing or looking for clothes and getups. even though she might not participate in the activity herself, she still likes to be present and that itself shows N and Uzi that she cares.

speaking of clothes, Vs time with Lizzy showed her that a part of her still wishes she had the freedom to live as a normal drone for all the time that was robbed of her. she likes to look pretty and she likes to wear pretty outfits... something that she might have not had the choice on even if she had lived all her life as a normal drone. and showing the other two some of the outfits she choses and prettying herself up for her partners is probably a side of her shes not gonna willingly let anyone else see any time soon. N and Uzi arent complaining :p

Initiating any physical affections is something that she does rarely but sometimes even she craves the attention. Uzi and N feel like a cat had chosen to trust them lmao. She used to start really simple like curling her tail around N or Uzi or their leg or tail- she opted to skip hand holding and just go towards hugs or cuddles whenever she wanted the attention or N and Uzi were idly doing something and she just decides to join. sometimes she would demand neck scratches and rubs or head pats, she usually doesnt let anyone simply touch her so those are a big deal. and well if she goes for more like kisses or anything more intimate, she makes sure that her partners are okay with it and that shes not bothering them or forcing them by doing so.

Sleeping. thats it. V hardly allows herself to rest. the fact that she would let herself sleep around N or Uzi or even cuddle with them shows shes immensely trustful and happy of where she is right now. N and Uzi want to expload cuz its like a cat had fallen asleep on them and now they cant move cuz they dont wanna wake her up TvT

i think thats all i have for nowwww >:3

[starryyskies]

Lil update in case y’all care ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

I’m moving from my shit apartment starting the beginning of august, and my current semester ends near august 13th. My next semester starts almost 2 weeks after (classes start on the 22nd but it’s good to get it started earlier since most classes open early).

Hopefully by then I’ll be moved out, feel more organized and less stressed, and manage my time a bit better.

Classes are going well despite being super fucking stressful, I’m at the very least passing for now lol

But as for drawing, besides that one doodle I finished and coloured, I haven’t been able to do anything at all. It really disappoints me because I see all this amazing art and my fomo (fear of missing out) gets so bad lol. But I am being responsible and doing my best (╥ᆺ╥；)

Thank you guys for your support and kindness and understanding ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)

So in case you’re curious my struggles currently read below lol

So, the place I work at, my store is a corporation and we’ve been basically getting babysat by managers from other stores who are also watching their own store, getting paid a shit amount for creating and maintaining not just the scheduling for both stores, but also managing any issues that arise. So we’re on our 4th manager now, and while he’s the sweetest and fucking raddest manager of all times, he is doing the bare minimum for our store. And trust me, I do NOT blame him. To be honest, he is getting paid salary for being a manager of his own store, and it’s like 56k a year or something which isn’t bad at all. But watching a completely different store?

75. Dollars. A WEEK?! That is LITERALLY a slap in the face. That is the CEO saying a big ass fuck you to its employees. So of course he’s doing the bare minimum. Coping and pasting parts of the schedule, he never comes into our store, and while he’s attentive when it comes to issues, he’s our only source of upper management support we have.

We have workers who have worked with the company for 3+ years, 8+ years, and 20 years. They know what they’re doing, but when I am running the shift by myself, I can’t rely on my coworkers to get back to me, because they are not obligated to.

So the schedule is pretty awful sometimes. Sometimes we’re over staffed when we could’ve used the help other times, sometimes we’re severely understaffed. Like for example, today was a shit show. We had 3 people during our busiest time. (I work at a coffee shop) and so we have one person on register who also takes care of the food and packs the deliveries, and then one person on the coffee bar is not enough to handle the amount of drinks they get, so I was basically running back and forth to support both positions while also making sure my coworkers got their breaks. Icing on the cake was when we realized it was way too hot inside the cafe and learned our AC is broken AGAIN! It was 84 degrees before I left work. That is miserable running around taking care of hot drinks and food.

This is something I deal with at least 2 times a week

While also doing school work full time, having a strict deadline to follow to submit assignments (thankfully it’s all online so I can be somewhat flexible)

And on top of all of that, I’m moving in 2 weeks, school finals will be going on by then, and life has been kicking my family in the ass.

My step dad, who I’ve know since I was 6-7, he’s been that second dad to me, I think of him as a hero. He unfortunately has been diagnosed with single cell lung cancer. It had spread to his ribs and femur. While he’s still fighting and going through aggressive treatment, I’m not sure what the outcome will be. He’s putting on a strong face, so I can’t tell how serious it is.

My grandfather is also in the hospital. He’s had a heart condition that requires him to wear an AED pacemaker in his chest, and recently it was used because he had a seizure. He’s not doing too well, and who knows what will happen.

Oh! And my older sister’s wedding is IN TWO MONTHS! I’m the damn maid of honor, and I do nottttt like the attention. She’s the kinda person who likes big fancy weddings but she’s doing her best financially to make it happen, though she also was promoted to manager for her store (we work for the same company) and going through that crazy long training is surly not fun lol.

But anyway, thanks for reading my rambles. Sometimes I feel like nobody really cares but I get reminded that there are people out there who are wondering how I am. So this is for you people

(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[sysig]

Can’t deny, that is definitely a Princess (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

[ssahotchnerr]

I can see Hotch doing this https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjByWsDA/ ❤️

STOP that's simply adorable i could CRY

hehe i can easily see aaron doing this on the jet ride home from a case 🥹 he finally has a prolonged amount of time to talk to you <33333 he's spoken to you briefly throughout the past few days, but it's only been a simple check-in, a good morning or a goodnight, nothing more than five minutes or so. or your main way of conversing has been through texts - it's not the same of course :( and he misses your voice so bad 🥺

so he's aching terribly to actually speak to you. yeah, he'll see you at home in just a few hours, but he can't wait that long. once the jet is in the air, en route home - aaron has a file sprawled out in front of him, calls you to finally have a conversation, and so he can listen to you talk as he works 🥹 hehe you keep him company because he's honestly dreading getting files done, he's been missing you and you make it so much easier <3

you're filling him in about your day - how work went, simple household chores you got done, lil updates - like you switched the laundry detergent for example, you went grocery shopping - AH you found something seasonal, like pumpkin spice muffins or something 🥹 and you tell him you can't wait for him to get home and try one because you feel like he'll absolutely LOVE them. just anything that comes to mind that's happened since he left.

and then you fill him in about jack too 🥹 how soccer practice went, he aced his spelling test!!!!!!!, he's having some trouble with fractions 🥺 you were helping him with his homework and he was nearly in tears because he couldn't figure it out :((((((((( so you helped him complete it, encouraged him to ask his teacher some questions or for some tricks in the morning, and made sure he was back to his usual smiley self before you tucked him into bed, because you didn't want him going to sleep sad :( (and you also tell aaron that you told jack that his dad would be home in the morning too!!!!!, so that lifted jack's spirits as well 🥹 and warmed aaron's heart hehe <333)

and just meanwhile, as aaron's listening to your voice - his own voice is softer toned and lower as he's speaking into his phone - he's mindlessly doodling hearts 😭😭😭😭 UGH his lips tug upwards into a small smile, he's 'mhm'ing' softly as he listens, conversing back with you gently, and just drawing sooo many teeny hearts on his case file 🤭💞💓💞 and over exaggerating them too - like his pen outlines the same heart a few times

he doesn't even realize he's doing it too - not until someone makes a comment like 'hotch? you writing a love letter?' or derek calls him a schoolgirl LOL and ask if aaron's gonna start writing your first initial with 'H' following next or something 😭😭 (and guilty - because aaron's already done so 🤭)

UGH you just fill aaron's heart with sosososo much love, and he's so so soooo in love with you 🥹 and this is just one of his subconscious ways of expressing it <33333

[bastardlybonkers]

i wanted to try drawing bantha, my clone oc id randomly made for this fic i wrote, then i decided that i wanted them to have served under my jedi ocs i drew here, and then i decided that they needed a squad, so i drew them too. info and comics about my new scuba squad under the cut

Chance

-captain of general nhero's SCUBA company

-master of the unreadable expression, a man of few words (takes after his jedi)

-soft spot for zilus, sees himself as a secondary mentor to him

-refuses to share exactly where his name came from, and if asked, will tell a similar but different story each time. its something of a passtime for many of the companys troopers to spin theories about it

Bantha

-field medic

-their bedside manner isnt the greatest, but theyre damn good at their job. got their name from their favorite curse to yell at injuries and patients, 'banthashit'

-epitome of 'im probably nonbinary but i have a job so idrc about that rn' (only starts using they/them pronouns post-o66, and starts taking hrt)

-survived in empire but chip got heavily damaged in a nasty accident where they were assumed KIA. took the opportunity to book it once they were pretty sure they wouldnt die of their injuries (they definitely would have, were they not a medic)

Molar

-used to be very rowdy, but has chilled considerably under nhero's command

-got his name after getting in a fight with another clone and uppercutting him so hard that he spat out a molar tooth (same fight he lost his earring and lobe in)

-doesnt know why he lets himself get roped into things

Spitz

-very excitable, no concept of personal space. most would probably hate him if he wasnt endearing

-got his name from the fact that he accidentally spits in ppls faces when he talks sometimes 😔 he made sure to always write it with a 'z' though so it would at least sort of seem intentional

-is not allowed to be paired alone with ex, due to possible ensuing mayhem

Downer

-eternal pessimist, always points out the downside to things and how something could go wrong

-name is self explanatory

-gets along well in silence with molar, but is usually paired with spitz or ex to level out their energy

Ex

-an adrenaline junkie

-named himself ex for 'ex-treme'- he is the only one who thinks this is cool

-wishes they used more 'high risk, high reward' strategy methods, but follows direction on the field. gets his thrills by other means that hopefully wont result in a lecture or death (but might get him laughed at)

doodle comics:

ex getting his eye tattoos

spitz showing off his knuckle tattoos

bantha, chance, and their neverending workload

ok thats what i have so far!! i hope u like them lol i like them So Much theyre already so fun for me. cant wait to think of them in their inherently tragic circumstances 🫠

[caesarinsalata]

So, this is gonna be a bit of a read, but I thought of a little AU idea and I kind of wrote a mock Prologue for it???

(yes I drew little doodles for it. End me lol)

Since it's set back in time when Xerxes was still a bustling empire, I figured Amestris would be in the 15th century of sorts. (Yes I know Amestris wasn't even made yet, but in this Medieval/Xerxes AU it is!)

Cause I looked into it and figured out Xerxes fell around 1480 or so?? So we're going with medieval Amestris.

It starts out with the trio being young (like 6 and 5 years of age) just so you have an idea.

So if y'all wouldn't mind taking a moment to read this little (3000?) Word excerpt I created out of my ass today, that would be awesome! Not promising it's in character or good 🤣👌🏽

TITLE: Achaemenid

PROLOGUE

Xerxes, a stand alone empire betwixt Xing and Amestris. No one dared challenge or overthrow this stretch of desert as a result of its King. He was ruthless and heartless at times. Yet Communicable and selfless at others. Alongside his majesty stilling the hearts of his enemies, no one particularly wanted such a vast wasteland. Nor could they grasp why an empire rose within the center of it.

The air surrounding Xerxes, upon approaching, was different somehow. No one could place it. All who came to the border of Xerxian territory felt as though something had passed through them or vice versa. The conspicuous distinction in the clearity of the desert sky on the other side of this “border” felt unnerving yet reassuring. At least the air looked sand free the closer the caravan trudged to their destination. The only effective means of travel in the desert was by camel back. Any other means was surely suicide.

“Are thee thirsty?”

The traveling company consisted of four camels, but five riders. Three were knights, bequeathed the honour of smuggling the remaining Rockbell family line from further extinction. They had been labeled traitors in their home country, Amestris. Despite being but a lowly old hag and orphaned child, the Queen wanted blood for crimes they had not committed. Someone on the inside, took action and fabricated the plan to get them to safety before the Queen decreed their sentence.

“Drink, before thy self run dry.”

The knight’s clothed arm held steady in front of Pinako Rockbell. She huffed a thank you, her aggravation more towards the scorching heat than him. After taking a drink herself, she gave the rest to Winry Rockbell, who sat in her lap.

“Drink child.”

Winry took the flask in her tiny hands, touching it to her lips and tilted it back. Finishing with a gasp of air, she felt much better. But a refreshing drink of water did nothing to wash away the fact that her parents were dead and are perceived to be traitors. She knew, without a doubt, that they were most certainly not. She wanted to cry again, but recalled granny telling her to conserve her fluids. This journey had been longer than she anticipated.

Finally coming across life of some kind, the caravan ventured across a bridge stretching over an irrigation system that seemed to go for miles in opposite directions. There were people actively digging the system down below. Hearing hooves shuffle across the stone, a handful of them turned to look up.

Winry ducked her head to escape their gaze, but soon was in awe of their odd features. Each and every one of them had gold hair that varied in shades. But what really caught her attention were the array of amber gold eyes staring her way. They varied in intensity as well, but each was piercing in their own right. She couldn't look away. After staring a moment, the people began to wave an arm in greeting in unison, smiles on their faces. They were oddly friendly to strangers. The people down below disappeared over the hump of the bridge once they crossed it and made it back to land, moreso sand.

The knight's accompanying them steered their herd towards a stable like building meant for housing the camels of travelers for their later departure. Except, they weren't leaving anytime soon, Winry thought. The knight's would leave them behind to burn under the hot sun. Although, now that they were in town, the sun didn't seem that bad anymore, but it still weighed on them.

Given Granny’s and Winry's size, the knights had to help them down off of the towering camels safely. Granny didn't like a grown man touching her, but she figured it would be best not to complain. They did all this for them. She took Winry's hand since she didn't feel safe in a foreign land whatsoever.

“Stay by my side, Winry.”

Winry noded and hid behind her as they walked down the center of the shopping district. A perfect place to attract travelers for money. Everyone they passed seemed to be happy to see them or at least friendly. Some would talk to each other and watch them pass. Granny didn't like being on display like this, she squeezed Winry's hand.

It felt like ages, but they finally walked to the center of the empire and scaled the thousands of stairs it took to get to the throne room. Winry wanted to slap this King or whatever. No one would want to come here and climb a mountain of stairs just for a King.

Once they basked in the vast throne room, the knights turned to Granny.

“Ma’am, the lass need not pay the King audience. Only thee must accompany us.” The knight speaking bowed, but Granny didn't like this idea.

“I'm not leaving her alone. She comes with me.”

“Ma’am…the King wouldn't-”

He was cut off by a tall young man, sporting a blonde beard and hair pulled back in a ponytail. “If I may?”

Pinako looked over and up to glare at whoever else wanted to take Winry from her. “Who are you? I'm not leaving her.”

The man put up his hands in surrender. He didn't take being yelled at very well. “I mean no harm, ma’am. Id like to suggest taking your…..granddaughter for the time being. I have two boys of my own she could distract herself with. I'm sure your conversation with the King will be short and sweet.”

“Like hell you think im-”

“Please please. I promise no harm will come to her. The King doesn't like children in his throne room. She would just upset him. Me on the other hand, I love them. She'll be safe with me.” He gave a pause and looked Pinako in the eyes, putting his hands together in a prayer form. “I promise.”

Pinako didn't care how many times he repeated himself, she didn't like this at all. Leaving her only granddaughter with a random stranger did not sit well with her.

The knight cut in this time. “Make haste, the King doesnt take nicely to waiting.”

“Alright alright. Fine. Get off my back will ya!” Pinako grumbled, turning to Winry. She grabbed both of Winry's hands this time and squeezed. “Winry. I don't want to do this, but you're going to be spending some time with that man there. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Winry nods. “Okay, Granny.” She looked to the blonde man smiling down at her. He wasn't unnerving or creepy. He looked really sweet and nice. He held his hand out and looked from Winry to Pinako.

“I will take good care of her for you. She'll have fun with my boys, I know it. Come come.”

Winry slowly took his hand and let go of Pinako’s. Neither looking like they wanted to go anywhere. Winry watched Granny go through the big double doors and disappear. She'd be lying if she wasn't worried now.

“Oh where are my manners,” the man smiled down at her while walking her down a corridor. “My name is Von Hohenhiem. What’s-”

“Winry.”

Her sudden response gave him pause, but Hohenhiem smiled anyway. “I know this is stressful and scary, but I promise you'll be just fine. There's nothing to fear now. Through here.”

He guided her through an archway, pushing aside fabric in the way to reveal what looked to be a library with an open floor in the center.

“Boys! We have company.”

No response. He smiles nervously down at Winry. Clearing his throat he tried again.

“Edward! Alphonse!”

He was complimented by a grumble and shuffling of books falling over.

“I'm coming! I'm coming! I was just getting to a good part!”

A moment later, a boy appeared from around a bookshelf, not looking happy to be disturbed. He wore robes like his father with red trim. His hair short in the back, but long in the front, most of it covering the sides of his face. He blinked, seeming disturbed by Winry, obviously not expecting someone else. Turning to look back he sighed.

“Come on Al.”

Another boy poked his head out, hiding behind his brother. Much more shy than the first one. He also wore a robe like his brother, but with blue trim.

As they stepped closer to her, Winry got a closer look at their golden features. She could make out more detail compared to the people under the bridge. These two boys sported the most brilliant golden eyes out of all the eyes she's seen on the way in here. She couldn't help but stare.

“Winry. These are my boys. The one with the sour expression is Edward. The one hiding is Alphonse. Now, I have some work to do for the King. Play nice boys. Don't make her cry.” Hohenhiem looks from Al to Ed. “Edward.”

The boy named Edward had obviously taken offense to this.

“Wha- I haven't done anything yet!” Crossing his arms he looks at Winry, but it looks more like a glare.

“Be nice, I'll let you know when your granny is ready for you, Winry dear.”

Winry nods, watching him leave as the fabric falls back in the doorway, she turns back to Ed and Al.

Collectively, they all stare at each other. Winry couldn't help but notice Al still hiding behind his brother.

“Umm….” Winry started, but Ed cut her off.

“Sooo, Winry huh? What do you wanna do then? All we have are books and some toys. Not much though. We're just slaves after all…” Ed huffs, lowering his arms and resting them on his hips.

“Slaves?” Winry looked worried.

“Yeah, slaves.” He tilted it head at her, his golden hair falling in his face a bit. “Don't you have those where you're from?”

“But you all look the same…”

Edward cocked an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with it? Only the alchemists live well here.” He shrugged but put on a proud smile and pointed at himself with his thumb, puffing his chest out. “Soon we'll be skilled alchemists and surpass those losers!”

Al spoke up for the first time from behind Ed, pushing down on his left shoulder. “Brother-” He hissed at him. “Don't say that out loud, they might hear you….”

“Whatever, Al, it won't matter when we're out of here!” Ed absolutely beamed at his brother.

“Al…chemists?” Winry blinked, completely dumbfounded. “What in the world is that?”

Ed and Al turned their heads and looked at her in unison. Almost in sync. “You don't know what Alchemy is?” They even spoke in unison too.

Winry shook her head, her hair swishing in her face.

Ed looked at Al and Al looked at Ed. They smiled and looked back to Winry. They bursted with energy at her and grabbed both her hands, she almost ran out of the room.

“Come on!”

“We’ll show you!”

Yanking her into the room’s center, there was a carpet lain out for play. They let go of her and ran in random directions, searching through books and scrolls. Winry opted to stand on the very edge of the carpet, deciding to keep her distance. Both boys looked like they wanted to show her a new strange rock they found in the forest or something of the like.

Edward emerged first carrying a scroll and chalk sticks. Alphonse had bottles and jars of unknown substances. Winry was more curious now. If they were this interested in something like this, whatever it was, it must be cool.

Ed rolled up the carpet aggressively and chucked it aside. Holding open a scroll, he read off of it and began drawing lines on the stone floor. Winry was confused now. Was this Alchemy? Drawing on the floors in chalk?

As Ed finished, it was clear to Winry that it was a giant circle with triangles and writing she couldn't understand.

“What-?”

Edward tisked. “Not done yet.”

Winry shut her mouth.

Al gave him a few jars of….stuff and they both opened them and poured out the contents in the center.

“Now the material.”

“Ready?”

They got down to their knees and smiled at each other at opposite sides of the circle.

“Ready.”

A few moments went by, nothing. Winey was about to say something again when the chalk started to glow. She couldnt believe her eyes, her mouth fell open. What felt like wind was circling around the outer circle. Lights and sparks erupted from the center and triangles. The light was everywhere. The boys didn't seem bothered by this at all, they were smiling down at the pile of material they offered to the center and waited.

As the light show continued, the pile started moving. Winry's eyes grew wider. It started taking the shape of a….doll head.

That's when it got terrifying.

The doll head wiggled it's way out of the pile along with a body attached. As it formed the facial features, it looks like something out of a nightmare.

Winry started to whine. But the boys didn't stop until they heard her wail.

They whipped their heads around with worry plastered on their faces. Winry was slouched on the ground crying and rubbing her eyes. Trying to get rid of the sight that bore into her eyes. She heard their footsteps and felt their hands on her arms. Trying to get her to stop crying.

“Winry! Winry! It's okay!” Alphonse was pleading with her, holding her forearm and touching her shoulder. Edward didn't know what to do. He's only ever consoled a crying Al, but that's different than a girl crying. He just hovered and looked ashamed and lost.

When the boys got her to a hiccup, she finally took her head out of her hands and looked at them in front of her. The worry was very real on their faces. They bowed their heads and slumped.

“We're sorry…”

“We didn't know it would scare you…”

Winry hiccupped, but looked over Ed's shoulder to see a fully formed, not scary, doll sitting at the center of the circle. She looked back to sets of golden eyes looking at her. One of them looked like they were about to cry too. She smiled a little. They were only trying to show her something and make her happy.

She was about to ask if she could have the doll when Hohenhiem whipped the fabric at the doorway open.

“I heard crying! Edward, what did you do??”

The remorse on Ed's face was gone in a flash. He jumped up and huffed, stomping his feet.

“I didn't do nothing!”

Hohenhiem scanned the tosseled rug and the obvious circle drawn on the floor. He slouched and sighed, pinching his nose.

“Did you scare her with Alchemy?”

Ed crossed his arms and turned away, puffing out his cheek. “No….”

Al stood up and gripped his robes. “Yes…” Ed whipped around and opened his arms at Al in a ‘are you serious?’ manner. Sour for being ratted on.

Hohenhiem sighed again. “I'm sorry Winry. I didn't think these two were going to immediately give you nightmares as soon as I left them alone with you. I should've known…”

Ed huffed again. “What's that supposed to mean??”

Winry’s eyes whipped from one to another. Amazed by the life in the room. Silently getting up while the other two argued, she tentatively picked up the doll and inspected it. Al quietly tapped her shoulder and smiled when she looked over.

“You can have that if you want it. It won't fall apart. It's really a real doll.” He smiled soft and sweet. “We made it just for you.”

She didn't know what would come of her life here in Xerxes now that she was stuck here for the foreseeable future, but with these two around, she knows it'll be interesting at least.

“Thanks, Al.”

[pisupsala]

I wish I could control my dreams because a 30 year old with colorful stationary with glittery gel pens sounds like way more fun lol

Ps- he was an ass but he had his moments. I will deny any attraction if asked lol

I can't control your dreams either, dear anon, but I can write you a small drabble~ enjoy ✨ [no warnings, only fluff and glitter gel pens] ***

You are the only person Bradley knows with a pen holder in their house—a filled, regularly used pen holder, no less. The container itself is nothing special, just one of those black metal mesh cups you’ll find at any office supply store, sitting on the corner of your desk. It’s deceptive in its simplicity. It’s filled to the brim with a colorful selection of pens of all different types, although Bradley never paid much mind to it. He generally has no need to write things down—he has his phone, doesn’t he?

The first time he notices is when he meets you for dinner one evening after work; you’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. Everything is fresh and new, and you’re still learning about each other. You are dressed in the regular muted colors you wear to the office—understated, elegant. Deceptive in its simplicity. As you lean into him, hand on your chin, the sparkle in your eye as you look at him lovingly isn’t the only thing that glitters. On the side of your hand, at the crease of your wrist, the soft light of the restaurant playfully reflects from a pink glittery smudge.

“What’s that?” Bradley inquires curiously as he gently pulls your hand toward him to inspect the smudge. The moment you notice what he’s looking at, you pull your hand back, nervously rubbing your fingers over the spot, which won’t budge.

“I must have bumped into something,” You mumble, mortified. 

Bradley decides not to push you on the issue that evening, but as time passes, more parts of your glittering personality shine through. The silliness of singing together in the car, to the soft sincerity of slow-dancing in the kitchen late at night. And he keeps seeing the pale, shimmering smudges on your hands and fingers after a long day—a small reminder of the person you're really under the serious exterior you put up for work. But it takes Bradley an embarrassingly long time to figure out where those smudges are coming from; his brain seems to end up at it, probably being makeup (despite you certainly not wearing any glitter to work).

You are working late—you’re still on the phone when you climb into Bradley’s car, an annoyed look on your face, tone clipped. Your relationship is much more serious now, the months past only making your feelings deeper.

The moment your eyes meet his, you wink playfully, face breaking out into a smile. Bradley smiles back—and you have to bite your lip not to have the breath get knocked out of you. Rather, you return to your phone call, the smile immediately melting off your face as Bradley steers the car out of the company parking lot.

Digging your notebook out of your bag—a sturdy, black hardcover, you leaf through it to the page that you need, reading off the points coldly to the person on the other end of the line. Bradley glances over curiously. The page in front of you is filled with notes in simple black ink, but the margins are overflowing with patterns and doodles with what Bradley finally recognizes. It’s something buried deep inside his mind, something he hasn’t seen since the awkward days of middle school.

And suddenly, it all clicks. The smudges, the errant glitter, and even the measure of mortification that came with it: you still write with glitter gel pens. Bradley can’t help but laugh quietly as you wrap your phone call.

“What’s so funny?” You grin at him, slipping your notebook back into your bag, before you stretch languidly. 

“You,” Bradley laughs. 

“Really?” Smile on your face, you flip the visor down, using the small mirror to unpin your hair. “What did I do this time?”

“You are the only person that I know that still uses a notebook,” He starts, carefully monitoring your reaction from the corner of his eye. “It’s cute.” He adds.

“I remember important things better when I write them down rather than typing them,” You reply, relaxed now, smiling as you run your fingers through your hair. “It’s my secret weapon.”

“Especially when you use glitter gel pens for page decoration?” Bradley teases. A beat passes before you burst out laughing. 

“It makes my day a bit more colorful,” You admit. “My work is drab enough as it is.” 

“Do you send your colleagues reminders written in pretty glittery colors instead of emails?” Bradley jokes, laughing along with no.

“Absolutely not.” You defend yourself, feigning offense but unable to keep the corners of your mouth quirking up. “That’s only for truly important messages.” 

“Such as?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, I never had to write one yet.” 

It’s weeks later, when Bradley is away on a training mission, that he finds the small folded-up note safely tucked into the side pocket of his bag. Your neat looping script, in glittery pink, sending the most important message, meant only for him:

I love you.

***

Library