#I’m tired of you I’m SO tired of you all I see post berating and yelling at ppl who are fed up w this

[jjdizz]

Posting this here as well

Food for thought

[grimcatician]

“OUR MOST VULNERABLE WILL SUFFER IF TRUMP WINS!!”

WHOS FAULT IS IT

Who’s fucking fault is it that these two evil bastards are our “only two” choices!???

I hate you motherfuckers I HATE y’all so goddamn much

Marginalized people have BEEN suffering.

Under every single GODDAMNED president and I’m sick of y’all only ever getting angry and upset over it when the Clear Bad Guy™️ for you liberals is up on the ballot too

Democrats have blood on their hands they ALWAYS have. Obama is called the Deporter in Chief for a goddamned reason. How many atrocities have been committed by liberal, “progressive” presidents and politicians.

LOOK AT LOS ANGELES RIGHT NOW

LOOK AT WHATS HAPPENING WITH THAT CITY blue as FUCK and we’re trying to ban masks and started the wheels moving on criminalizing homelessness the DAY after the Supreme Court ruling.

And yes oooo project 2025!! Ok well what do we do NEXT election? The one after that?? Bc that shit is LONG TERM plan, it is made so that it can be put into action at ANY time and with ANY rep president and I hardly see shit about that.

You all upset and disgust me so much tbqh y’all dismiss ANYONE on the fence about this not realizing that most of the ppl who don’t want or won’t vote for Biden have been suffering for fucking years decades LIFETIMES and continue to see a party that proclaims they care but CONTINUE to do Jack shit to actually dismantle the instructions that perpetuate harm bc THEY DEPEND ON THEM

GAH

ITS THE LACK IF EMPATHY FOR PPL YOU DEEM AS “STUPID” AND UNINTELLIGENT FOR FEELING AT ALL EVEN A LITTLE ON THE FENCE ABOUT THIS

Fuck y’all

[theorphicangel]

“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?

tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, male masturbation, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh, angsty ishhhh

taglist: @ghost-lantern @mreowmoreww @maomaimao @ahano

PART TWO. (click here for part one.)

“I think you’re lying to me.”

Miguel glances up at you from the dining table that he’s sitting at, currently eating a bowl of cereal. You’re standing opposite him, buttering a seemingly burnt piece of toast.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re lying to me about not having a valentine’s date.”

Miguel’s eyes move back down to stare at his bowl, spoon mindlessly poking at the cereal but he’s not eating. He pauses for a few seconds, thinking over your words.

“What makes you think that?”

“You?” You point at him with your butter knife. “The Miguel O’Hara, the well-known ladies’ man has not one date tonight? Not a single one out of the countless ladies that he’s been with? Suspicious.”

“Looks like it.” he mumbles. You notice that his tone is dry. Refusing to play along with your teasing.

“See, I don’t believe it. Something’s up, you’re acting…weird.”

It’s ironic you say that. You have no right to judge him on his behavior. After all, you did suck him off on the couch last night. This morning, neither of you had made an attempt to discuss what had happened last night. You acted as if nothing had happened between the two of you, as if you had just gone to bed for an early night.

As for Miguel, it was a whole different story. Unbeknownst to you, he didn’t get any sleep that night. Tossing and turning, his cock aching at the thought of you. Each and every time that he tried to close his eyes, all he could picture was you between his thighs.

It was that look. That look you had in your eye, it was full of hunger and desire. It was a look that proudly told him that all you had wanted to do was to make him feel good.

Reminiscing on this, guilt ran through his bloodstream like poison, questions running through his mind.

Why didn’t he ask you to be his valentine’s sooner? Why didn’t he confess there and then? Why did he have to wait so long to make a move? Do you feel the same as him? Do you feel as if your soul is eating you from the inside out, tempting you to confess how you really feel? If he did confess, would you have canceled all your plans for him? Or would you act like how you’re acting now, pretending that nothing happened?

“I’m not being weird. I’m tired.” He mumbles, still poking at his cereal. In his mind he can already hear the voice of his mother berating him for it.

“Right.” you say, unable to think of anything more to say. Normally, it’s easier than this to start off playful banter between the two of you but you can sense Miguel’s energy was off.

This was almost reminiscent of your earlier days after moving in. How you both exchanged awkwardness and empty conversations that resulted from who's turn it was to take out the trash and the weather forecast.

You figure that perhaps Valentine's Day wasn't the best day for him, assuming that his behavior is the result of something else that happened. You decide to keep your pondering questions to yourself, instead finishing your breakfast in silence. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, seeing multiple posts of friends already waking up to cute valentine gifts and what not.

Audibly, you let out a sigh, wondering if your date – whom you may come across at work– has anything planned for you this morning.

You glance over at Miguel who continues to stare down at his bowl, the obnoxious sound of milk falling off his spoon fills the silence.

Anxiety builds up in your stomach about last night. Was it wrong to ask him to help you? Perhaps he regrets what happened, suddenly wishing he’d never agree to it. Your negative thoughts continue to build up inside you, suddenly taking away your appetite.

You thought last night was…good. Great, even. It had given you confidence for tonight.

if anything was to happen tonight.

Was last night helpful? Most definitely.

Did it spark something in you that you’ve tried to keep buried since the very moment you moved into the apartment? Sure.

Did you want to do it again? Hell yes.

But the question is, does he feel the same?

You take in his demeanor, his low mood and refusal to look up at you. Maybe he hates you so much that he can’t bear to stand you after last night. This brutal assumption was all you needed to get yourself to snap back into reality.

Before disappearing to get changed for work, you take one last glance at Miguel, who continues to ignore you. By the time you step out of your room to leave the apartment for work you find the kitchen empty.

You find a single bowl of cereal on the table that remains unfinished.

/

Exhausted, miguel steps into the apartment. He thinks it’s nearing 6pm by the time he arrives, taking a little longer than usual to return.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him he can hear your voice calling for him; a personal singsong just for him bouncing off the walls. After locking the door, he turns to hang up his coat before bending down to remove his shoes.

By the time he looks up again, you’re suddenly standing in front of him and for a second it feels like his breath is knocked out of his lungs.

And there you were. Stood in front of him with a cheesy smile across your lips, wearing a dress he’s never seen before. You tilt your head to one side, awkwardly fiddling with your hands as Miguel stares you down.

“Do you think it’s a little too much?”

You move your body a little, providing different angles of the dress. Immediately Miguel’s eyes are drawn to the way that your curves hug at the dress. His eyes are latched onto you, unblinking. As he stands in silence your mind turns into panic, taking it as a negative reaction. Maybe it’s not the right dress.

Your disappointment is more than obvious as you start to turn, heading back to your bedroom where a pile of clothes await your return. “You’re right, I think I should–”

“Perfect.”

Finally, the words leave his throat.

If the words ‘Will you be my Valentine?’ won’t fall from his lips then he makes sure that you’re able to hear this at least.

“It’s perfect.” He repeats, a little louder now. His body forces himself to blink now, eyes stinging at the image of you.

“Are you sure?” Your tone is apprehensive, unable to see the positive correlation between his reaction with his words. “Because I think I have a better dress–”

“No.” Miguel swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I like this one, it looks good. Perfect.”

He likes it.

Relief crashes over you, all doubt washed away. His external validation was the only thing you needed.

“Really?”

Miguel’s patience was wearing thin at your disbelief, it took everything in him not to run up to you and mark you as his. It took everything in him not to run his hands all over your body, to ingest every feature, to worship it, to make love to it and provide you everything you had ever wanted.

God, he wanted nothing more but to prove to you that, yes, you looked fucking gorgeous, stunning even. If there was a moment where he wanted to kick himself in the balls for not asking you out sooner, the moment would be now.

“Really. Don’t change.”

He can’t tell whether this final validation was all you needed or whether his tone was finally believable to you but either way he’s satisfied that he has finally gotten through to you as a smile reaches for your lips.

“Thanks mig’. ” you mutter quickly, turning from him as fast as you could to hide the heat that now spread rapidly across your face. You say nothing more, disappearing as quickly as you had appeared, leaving him in a wondrous state.

/

“Think you’ll be okay?”

You don’t look up at him, too busy replying back to a message. He watches as your thumbs move across the small screen at lighting speed. “Yeah, yeah, he’s nearly here.” you mumble quietly. Unfortunately, you’re too preoccupied to notice the look of apprehension on Miguel’s face.

There’s something that gnaws at him completely. From the inside, just begging to be let out. He doesn’t know whether it’s a confession, his jealousy or anger at himself. He assumes that this feeling is a mix of all three.

He can tell that you're nervous, teeth softly biting down on your bottom lip, heels tapping the floor with impatience. If you weren’t holding your phone with two hands, he’d bet that you’d be biting at your nails. It takes everything in him not to grab you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him and take a few deep breaths.

Soon enough, a ding is heard from your phone and he watches how your face lights up. All he can do is stand awkwardly as you tell him your date is here to pick you up. Miguel watches you as you make your way to the door, double checking your purse for anything that you may have forgotten.

A wish of ‘good luck’ dies in Miguel’s throat as you slip through the door, leaving him with nothing more than an echoed goodbye.

The second he hears the door lock behind you, a sigh seems to leave his lips. He can smell the lingering scent of a perfume that he had bought for you as a christmas present, a new favorite that you only wore on special occasions.

Silence now begins to torment him, his mind is jumping to conclusions. What if this one date will lead to a second date and then a third and then a tenth? Until eventually the day comes, when you announce that you’ll be moving out.

He’ll be left on his own, again.

And all that follows are bland text messages from you every now and again, checking up on him as a friend whilst he falls back into the shadows, forever stuck with the label of ‘roommate’.

The deafening silence continues to torture him, thoughts emerging to the idea of your date becoming the love of your life. It's completely stupid and useless to jump to this assumption but he can’t help it. He can’t help but tyrannize himself, his insecurity eating away his insides like vermin.

“Fuckin’ hell, you need to get yourself together.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, making his way over to the couch. He collapses with exhaustion, a groan leaving his body as he does so.

It takes him more than a few minutes to realize that he’s sitting in the same spot as last night. The only difference being is that there’s no pretty girl sitting between his thighs, eyes glowing at him with lust and desire. This single thought is enough to make him hard.

A curse or two is muttered under his breath as an uncontrollable bulge begins to grow in his pants. He really shouldn’t. But he does.

His fingertips run over his crotch as he reminisces about last night: the innocent look on your face, your shock at how big his cock was, your attempt to take him whole, desperately trying to fit him into that pretty little mouth of yours, and by god, it took everything in him not to keep you down there.

But that look, that glow almost dared him to. Your eyes silently expressed that this was all for him. Miguel lets out a groan, finally giving in to his needs, a hand slipping into his pants to free his aching cock from his boxers.

He gives slow, long strokes imitating what you had done yesterday. A quiet whimper leaves his throat, his thumb wiping away at the pre-cum at the crown of his length. He remembers the way his body shudders as you left tantalizing little circles at the tip of his cock, practically torturing him.

His thoughts drastically change from imagining your mouth teasing his cock to how he would tease your dripping cunt. He imagines how soaked you would be for him and wonders whether you were like this yesterday, when you were sucking him off, completely soaked through your panties.

Miguel lets out a groan at the mere thought, his hand now increasing the pace of his strokes. You’d be so tight, he thinks, so tight that your eyes would tear up at your cunt trying to take him whole. His cock would stuff every inch of you, your cunt clenching around him, your little whines persuading him to go deeper, trying to prove that you can take it all.

He wraps a tight fist around himself, pumping himself a little faster now, his breath hitched. His free hand grips at a pillow beside him, imagining that he was taking handfuls of your ass as he buried himself deeper into you. He’d start off slow, let you get adjusted to his size before building up a merciless pace.

Miguel imagines your body writhing beneath him, fingertips scratching at his back as he pleases you. Miguel begins to feel heat in his lower abdomen, his eyes are closed and brows are furrowed as he tries to focus on pornographic images of you in his mind. He imagines your whimpers, babbling to him about how good it feels. That’s all he wanted to do. Make you feel good.

“Please, please, please– fuck, don’t stop.”

Miguel’s thighs begin to tense, hips jerking slightly as he fists his cock. It feels too good to stop. It’s wrong but he can’t stop your name from escaping from his lips. He surrenders to the feelings of pleasure and complete euphoria. He feels the cord in his lower abdomen begin to snap away, desperate pleads echo off the walls as he cums, his seed spilling across his hand and lower abdomen.

Coming down from his climax, the realization of what he’s done crashes over him like a wave and suddenly he finds himself violently drowning. Drowning in a sea of his thoughts and his mistakes. Cruelly, he reminds himself that he can’t be saved and that he deserves to be alone. After all…

he has no one to blame but himself.

click here for part 3

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings

thank you again for your time:))

-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol

hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want word count: 1.9k

Cuddles and Confessions

So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember. 

As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.

“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down. 

James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle. 

When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat. 

“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.

“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory. 

He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock. 

“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door. 

“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —” 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.” 

You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly. 

“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him. 

“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.

“Yes please,” he half laughs. 

You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you. 

He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth. 

You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle. 

“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close. 

“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him. 

“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.” 

He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing. 

The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips. 

“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better. 

“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses. 

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose. 

Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it. 

“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking. 

“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.

“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky. 

“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building. 

“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.” 

You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy. 

James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid. 

“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly. 

“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.

“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly. 

You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder. 

You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots. 

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound. 

“Feels nice,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods. 

You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact. 

He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his. 

It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.

You just lie there in silence for  a bit, the tension having eased considerably. 

In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response. 

“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit. 

James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself. 

“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.” 

Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.” 

He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”

Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever. 

The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.

“This is nice,” he slurs. 

“Mmhmm,” you hum. 

“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle. 

“Good.” 

“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.

You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was. 

So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”

“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. 

“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.” 

His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.

“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving. 

“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.

He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you. 

Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes. 

[seeingivy]

the time of your life

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: character death (LOL), very immature fifteen year old humor (that was cross confirmed with real fifteen year olds), idk reader and eren being mad corny

an: tried my best to make this chapter fun but I will just POST WHAT I HAVE BUT THE NEXT ONE IS ONE OF MY FAVS IM SO EXCITED

previous part linked here

--

Things settle down after the panel, and Eren convinces you to put all your energy into finishing the season. Because you’re going to prove them wrong and now you just have to do it. And as much effort as you put in, the rest of them all make it fun too. 

And Eren’s right. 

They really are great - funny, charismatic, and idiotic in their own ways. 

The inside jokes start one week after filming when you’ve finally learned everyone’s names. And, of course, it starts with Reiner. You and Historia are so tired after filming that you quickly run back to the townhouse just to get snacks from the main kitchen. With the mention of food, Sasha’s following, and then Connie, suddenly, everyone’s marching back together. 

Except when you get there, Reiner is in the kitchen. Not only is he shirtless, but he’s also doing some next-level opera singing. For some reason, he’s trying to sing both parts of the Phantom of the Opera and… actually succeeding?

Connie leans over, whispering. 

“Look at those mommy milkers.” 

You all burst out laughing, which stops Reiner in his tracks. And he momentarily stops and scratches his head before he keeps singing, this time serenading all of you. He’s taking Ymir by the hand and swinging her around and holding hands with Jean as they rock back and forth that even Mikasa’s snorting at the sight of him. You're all sold after that. 

Speaking of Mikasa, as solemn and quiet as she can be, she’s gotten you into quite a bit of trouble. Trouble meaning severe back pain. When she first moved into your room, she mentioned that she was a bit of an early riser. She likes to work out to get her blood moving before shooting, claiming that “it gets her in the zone.” 

Somehow, she convinces you and Sasha to join her one morning, and by the end of it, Jean and Marco are dragging you both back to the house by your legs, having to shove the two of you in an ice bath. 

You just didn’t realize that an early riser meant four in the morning, and working out means an all-intensive full-body press. Levi’s pissed at you and Sasha for being stupid enough to think you could keep up and you’re both mad at Levi for having such little faith in you. 

In true dad fashion, Levi’s always lecturing you guys. More like pretending to be mad, berating you around the set. But you know that he cares because the second that you guys ask him for something, no matter how stupid it is, he’ll be the first to give in. 

Exhibit A? Marco and Jean recently find out that Levi became a triple threat from doing his own stunts on Bond - including a quadruple flip. They’re both so intrigued by it that every time they see Levi, they force him to do it. 

“Levi.” 

“No, Marco. I’m not going to do a flip.” 

“Do a flip! Levi, please please please please please do a flip. It’s just so fucking cool.” 

“Watch your language, Jean. You need to wash your mouth out with soap.” 

“I won’t say fuck for a week if you flip, Levi. Please!” Jean says, shaking Levi’s hands as he talks. 

Levi begrudgingly rolls his eyes and then backflips in the living room, earning half hearted cheers. It was cool the first eleven times, but Jean literally asks him to do it daily. It gets old fast. 

“That was so fucking cool, Levi! Thanks.” Jean says, running off. He bumps into Sasha, who's clearly going to throw up as she runs past. 

Levi’s sick and tired of Jean. And Hange too. And himself for thinking that filming with a bunch of teenagers was going to be a good idea. 

After finding out that Sasha will quite literally eat anything you put in front of her, Hange’s started a dangerously horrible game of seeing what Sasha will eat without paying attention to it.

Ketchup on watermelon, ice cream with salt in it, cake with mayo. It’s become so disgusting that you can’t tell who people are more grossed out with - Hange for making the concoction or Sasha for eating it. (It’s Sasha) 

Armin’s taken maybe twenty before and after pictures of Sasha during these “experiments” that Hange runs and then sticks them onto the kitchen wall - perfectly labeled with the food Sasha ate underneath them. 

And he loves taking pictures so much that there’s now a big wall at the front of the set of just individual and group pictures, Armin’s little pictures and commentary tacked to the wall. 

One of Jean and Sasha playing video games, labeled “the great war” 

Another one of Ymir and Bertholdt tackling each other, labeled “ice cream gate” 

And one of Eren pinching your cheek, labeled “the l/n-jaegers” 

Right. In another life, you’re all convinced that Connie was destined to work for the paparazzi. Because every time you and Eren are together, he somehow manages to capture a picture at the worst time - making something innocent look like totally not.

Like when you and Eren share a blanket on set because there’s only one left. Or when he helps you put the harnesses on and his hands are around your waist for two seconds . When you guys share the breakfast burritos on set because they’re too big to eat alone. With context, they’re not that bad. 

But Connie always catches it at the worst time and then posts it to his fucking TikTok account. His stupid series has garnered millions of views, and you’ve both tried to convince him to stop, to which he refuses

And when you tried to get Erwin involved, he only supported Connie more - stating it was good press for the show. He’s named the series “the l/n-jaegers” hence the label on the polaroid.  

There’s currently 32 different parts. 

But you know you can’t stop him even if you tried because Connie proves to be the most menacing idiot on set. Him and Annie have developed a horrible habit of pranking everyone on around - Levi, Hange, and Erwin specifically. It’s not that Annie loves pranks, she’s just the only one who can keep a straight face. 

“Hey Hange.” 

“What’s up, Annie?” 

“There’s this guy who works in hair and makeup. He has a few ideas for the Female Titan costume design. He wants to talk to you.” 

“Oh. What’s his name?” 

“Ben Dover.” responds Connie, the look on his and Annie’s faces blank. 

“Ben Dover?” Hange repeats the rest of you, trying you shoving your faces into the script to stop laughing as they respond. 

“Yeah. They said they’ve talked to Erwin before. He’s been working with Hugh Jass, on the makeup team.” says Annie. 

Erwin walks over, the look on his face confused. And it just gets worse. 

“Who is Hugh Jass? I’ve never seen him before.” 

“Oh, he’s hard to miss. Really big guy,” responds Connie, his face breaking a little. 

Levi walks over, and when Annie talks again, it’s the final nail in the coffin. You and Eren are literally smacking your hands over each other's mouths, the tears spilling out of your eyes to not give them away. 

“Okay, we’ll go over there now. Thanks for telling us Annie, Connie.” 

“Cool! They’re waiting with Ben Overbich.” 

“What?” 

“Ben Overbich. It’s Swedish, sir.” Annie responds. 

Levi shrugs as he, Hange, and Erwin walk off to go to talk to the costume designers. And when they all walk away, you’re all panting on the floor, gasping for breath. Connie keeps mimicking Erwin, saying Hugh Jass, and Berholdt keeps quoting it’s Swedish sir, which doesn’t make it any better. 

When they return, Levi and Erwin are all yanking you by the ears onto the set since the costume team told them what the jokes actually meant. And there’s something so presidential about Erwin naturally that when he starts lecturing you, it starts feeling like he’s giving a sermon. 

“You guys are premier faces in the industry. Imagine how people would feel if they found out you were making crude jokes like you were fifteen years old.” 

“Sir.” 

“Yes, Ymir.” 

“We are fifteen years old.” 

You’re all snickering as Erwin continues, Hange rolling their eyes as he goes on. 

“You should know better. Ben Dover is not a funny joke. Huge asses are nothing to laugh about. You should wish to have that type of issue.” 

Jean leans over, whispering in yours and Eren’s ear. 

“The divine truths of humanity.” 

You laugh and Erwin stares you down, Eren smacking you for laughing out loud. 

“Y/N. Up.” 

You groan as stand next to him, the lot of them laughing at you, as Erwin stares you down. 

“Erwin.” 

“Y/N. What did you learn in class yesterday?” 

“Uh. States and capitals?” 

“Perfect. Name them all.” 

You groan. Of course, you get stuck with Erwin and his weird punishments. He always quizzes you guys on random stuff from your classes when you take too long on set or are late to a table read. And you’re usually free from that, but Jean’s stupid comment got you. 

“Uh. Okay. California is Los Angeles.” 

“Wrong. It’s Sacramento.” 

“I’m Canadian, Erwin. This isn’t even fair.”  

He shakes his head dismissively as you keep going, literally getting every single one wrong. And when you reach the fifth incorrect state, Eren takes his stand, helping you with the rest of them. 

“Eren. No one asked you if you knew the states and capitals.” Erwin says, pinching both of your ears as they all laugh.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging here.” 

“Your girl?” repeats Connie and the rest of them widen their eyes, leaving you and Eren to be met with a bunch of “oohs” and “aahs”

Which only flusters Eren even more. And makes your cheeks burn.

“That’s-that’s not what I meant! It’s because we’re co-stars! Like the leads, that’s why she’s my girl! Not any weird reason.” Eren stammers, the tips of his ears pink and his eyes not meeting yours. 

No one believes him. 

-

“Eren.” 

“Hm.” 

“Hot sauce.” 

He leans over in the chair, opening the packet of hot sauce and handing it to you. The crew got breakfast burritos again , meaning you and Eren were slouched up in your chairs eating. The scene that was being filmed was primarily a scene for Jean and Marco, but you and Eren always love to watch everyone else act. 

There’s something about the energy on set - Levi directing everyone around, everyone getting in the zone that gets you excited. All jittery and nervous and thrilled that people are going to see this amazing thing that is airing in a few weeks. 

You hand Eren the burrito and he instinctively reaches forward, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. His green eyes focused on your lips and you can feel your heart rising into your throat. 

“Eren.” 

He looks up, right into your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Oh, my bad. You had some sauce on your lip.” 

And then he takes the excess sauce and licks it off his finger. 

“Did you just-” 

“Y/N, be quiet. They’re starting.” 

You try your best to focus on the scene but all you can think about is yours and Eren’s knees bumping against each other, your fingers brushing across as you share the food, and Eren licking the sauce off of his finger. You try to brush it off as you lean over and whisper into his space.

“What scene is this, Eren?” 

“Don’t remember. I was so busy trying to check my own lines I forgot to read ahead.” 

You nod as Eren scoots closer, the two of you leaning forward as you start paying attention to the scene. Jeans walks closer and that’s when you realize it - Marco leaning against the wall, all charred and slumped over. 

“Hey. Are you…. Marco?” Jean whispers, his voice shaking. 

Eren instinctively reaches for your hand, crushing it in his hold. You look over to find Sasha and Bertholdt giving you the same confused looks as you all keep watching, Jean acting on. It seems like no one read the scene before watching it. 

Jean’s a good actor. Such a good actor that you think he’s actually crying, that his voice is actually wavering. And that’s when you realize it. 

Marco just died. 

Your mind is running at a million miles per hour. Does that mean he’s leaving? He’s not going to be in the show anymore? You guys were all supposed to spend four or five years together filming together, but how is that fair if he’s already dead? That isn’t even an entire season-

Eren’s squeezing your hand into oblivion as the tears are falling out of his eyes, his face looking all types of broken as you glance over. 

“Member of the 104th Cadet Corps and Captain of Squad 19… Marco Bodt.”  

The director calls cut and the crew starts moving around, Jean helping Marco up from the ground as he brushes the tears out of his eyes. And when you catch sight of Erwin, you’re blazing fire angry. And it seems like you’re not the only one, because Ymir and Mikasa are following your suit. 

“Erwin. What the hell?” you say. 

Erwin and Levi look down at the three of you, confused. 

“You can’t just kill Marco! That’s not fair, the show hasn’t even started yet and you already killed him off.” Reiner says, crossing his arms. 

“Erwin. Cut it out of the show. You can’t do this.” Mikasa responds, glaring at him. 

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose as he bends down, Erwin joining him so you’re all level heights. For some reason, angry tears are building in your eyes and your chest is burning, because…you miss Marco. And he’s not even gone yet. And it’s not fair that he died so soon and his character is all but sweet, so why does he have to die and-

Levi places his hands on yours and Reiner’s shoulders as he talks, his voice soft. 

“Are you guys upset that he’s going to be leaving?” 

You all nod, the tears finally flowing out of your eyes and streaming down. You can see that Reiner’s crying too, Mikasa swallowing her own tears. 

“Yeah. Erwin, Levi he’s our friend. And I’ve never really had friends like this and I don’t want him to go away and-” you choke out, stammering on your words. 

Levi squeezes your shoulder as you hiccup and Erwin leans forward to press all three of you in a hug. Levi’s hands are in your hair, whispering something under his breath about how you’re all sweet kids. 

They both let you go and you look over to find Marco, still in his death makeup, hugging Eren, who has tears streaming down his eyes too. And when you walk over, Marco opens up his other arm, you and Eren and Jean and almost everyone crushing him into a hug, the discomfort sitting in your chest. 

As you all trail back to the townhouse after set, quiet for once, you’re all milling around the main room, aimlessly. You and Armin are playing a very underwhelming game of Uno, Reiner and Marco half-assedly playing Mario Kart, and Mikasa’s teaching Ymir how to braid her hair. 

Hange walks in and plops down between you and Armin, the polaroid camera in her hand. 

“Hey, you guys.” 

“Hi Hange.” you both mutter, flipping the cards down. 

“Got an idea. You know, this shows kind of… dramatic . A lot more of the characters are going to die, but it doesn’t have to be a sad thing.” 

“It is sad. That means Marco’s leaving and we won’t see him anymore.” you say, boring your eyes into Hange’s. 

They lean forward to pinch your cheek, softly laughing as they continue talking. 

“You’re so sweet. He’ll be back to film other scenes, yeah? And you’ll definitely see him again.” 

You both nod, agreeing with Hange. They hand the camera to Armin, whispering the plan in his ears and then duck out of the hallway. And when you and Armin have everything you need - the industrial box of Rocky Road ice cream and the camera - you head to the center of the room, Armin standing on the couch to get everyone’s attention. 

“When you fall off, I’m going to fucking laugh at you, Arlert.” says Ymir, looking up from braiding Sasha’s hair. 

“Shut up, Ymir. Listen, we should make a deal. Every time a character dies, we all eat ice cream. Play games, stay up late, and then at the end of the night we’ll add their picture to the wall. So we don’t forget them . Like, one last hurrah or whatever. ” Armin says. 

“You sound like Hange.” Annie mutters, flicking Reiner in the forehead. 

“It was their idea. But we should. If Marco’s leaving in a few days, I want to spend all the time I can with him, having fun and-” 

“Yeah. I want to.” says Marco, which has almost all of you agreeing.

You and Armin start by opening the tub of ice cream, all eleven of you refusing to get bowls and instead leaning over, bumping heads as you eat. 

“Eren. Move your big head.” 

“Shut the fuck up Connie. Your bald head is bigger than mine.” 

You all start snickering as the two of them argue, smacking each other and rolling off the couch. And when Marco suggests that you play truth or dare, you all start nervously giggling as you go around the circle, all jittery from the sugar in the ice cream.

Reiner asks Connie to share the last dream that he had, which he begrudgingly shares is that he kissed Ymir. Ymir is thoroughly disgusted. Historia gets dared to call Erwin dad by accident, which just leads to Erwin giving Historia a lecture about how he appreciates that she can see him as a father figure and that he is already very proud of all of the work Historia has put in. 

Bertholdt has to eat a spoonful of mayo, which he consequently throws up and Armin gets dared to steal something from the set. He takes Levi’s coffee cup and hides it in the storage room, which he is sure to get an earful for later. 

“Eren. Truth or Dare?” Connie asks. 

“Dare.” 

“Kiss your favorite person in the room on the cheek.” 

They all start giggling as they stare you down, your cheeks burning at the thought of Eren pressing his lips to yours. Connie and Bertholdt are making kissy faces at you, Ymir and Annie leaning over to pinch your cheeks. 

And you brace yourself, for when Eren’s going to press his lips into your skin. Except he doesn’t.  He leans over and kisses Armin on the cheek and you try your best to hide your…disappointment? Sadness? But that’s on you. 

Why would you assume you’re Eren’s favorite person on set? 

Everyone boos at Eren for picking a copout answer and you pretend not to be offended as you keep playing the game. And on hour two of playing, Levi comes and yells at you all to shut the fuck up and go to bed , which leads to Armin taking the picture of Marco - all cheesing and smiley and tacking it to the wall. Connie takes a sharpie and labels the wall “fly high angel” to mark the occasion. 

Except his dumbass writes angle instead of angel. 

You all shuffle back to your rooms, giggling and laughing, and you and Eren giving each other a smile as you switch into your respective rooms. 

- 

You hear a knock on your door and instantly jump up, ready to duck out of set to go get slushies with Eren. Except when you swing the door open, Jean’s standing at your store instead of Eren. 

“Oh. Hi Jean.” 

“Hi…is-” 

“She’s in the shower. You’re welcome to wait for her here if you’d like?” 

You swing the door open and he flops onto Mikasa’s bed, watching your fan spin around on the ceiling. 

You’re not sure what it is or why Jean and Mikasa are assuaged from the barrage of teasing and cooing that you and Eren get whenever you’re around each other, because you’re almost a thousand percent sure that the two of them are worse than you and Eren. 

Because they actually like each other. You’ve often come home from filming or playing games with Bertholdt and Historia to find the two of them sitting on the floor, holding hands while watching a movie. Or Jean giving Mikasa bracelets or telling her that he thinks she’s really pretty. 

Maybe they’re not paying attention and that the only person who knows is you. Or maybe it’s because they don’t turn red or deny their feelings, because they actually like each other. You and Eren aren’t like that, because in earnest, you two really are just friends. 

“You okay? Your room must be pretty empty.” 

Marco moved out earlier today. Not a single dry eye in the room. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I came. Sometimes it just feels kind of lonely, but I think Levi and Erwin might move someone in with me or put me with Connie or something.” 

“That’s nice. It’ll be fun to have a roommate.” 

He nods, cracking his fingers as the shower runs behind the two of you. 

“Hey Jean.” 

“Hm.” 

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot.”

You sit up, hopping off your desk chair and onto the bed where Jean was sitting. He’s leaned back against Mikasa’s perfectly propped pillows, lazily swinging the charm of his necklace back and forth on the chain. 

“How do you know you like Mikasa?” 

He looks up from his chain, giving you an inquisitive look, before answering. 

“Dunno. I like being around her. Like, whenever I’m in a room, the person I want to be next to is her. Or the first person I tell good news to and I want her to know like…random things about me. My moms name, my first pet, how I hate my first grade teacher. I just like to share things with her. Like how it feels when I'm with her you know - like...like that's Mikasa. She's my girlfriend."  

“Oh. Okay, that makes sense.” 

He nods, plopping back down on her pillows and twisting the chain in his hands again. 

You halfheartedly nod as Mikasa rolls out of the bathroom, giving you two smiles as she takes the seat next to Jean. You give the two of them a smile as you pad out of the room and straight into Eren and Armin’s across. 

“Hi. Mind if I sit? Jean and Mika are-” 

“Sure.” Eren says, scooting over on his bed and patting on the sheets. 

“Where’s Min?” 

“Ah. With Erwin. I think he’s taking the Marco thing kind of hard.” 

You nod, shuffling on the bed as Eren shuts his laptop, leaning back onto the headboard. 

“Are you okay, Eren? With him being gone?” 

“Feels weird. It kind of just makes me nervous for who else will leave us, you know?” 

Us. 

“Yeah.” 

Eren tangles his hand with yours at your side, taking turns cracking each of the knuckles on your fingers. 

“Do you ever wonder why they tease us so much? For being friends?” 

He angles his head over, the wisps of his brown hair tickling on your forehead.

“Like. Mikasa and Jean really like each other. They’re always holding hands in my room and-”

“What? They like each other?” 

“I think so. I don’t know, they’ve never really hid it from me.” 

“Well, you’re sweet. You’d never make fun of them for that. I had no idea that they liked each other. They’re probably just not outward with it in front of everyone else.” 

“And we aren’t outward with anything. I don’t know, we just act normal and they’re always like saying this stuff about how you and I-” 

“Y/N.” 

You stop talking as he squeezes your hand three times, almost like a little knock signaling you to stop talking. 

“I think they just… don’t get us. You and I are special. I just feel like I’ve known you forever and that we really fit together and I think they can sense that or something. And they think it’s romantic even if it’s not, you know?” 

“Yeah.” 

He squeezes your hand three more times, the words knocking through your head. Special. Fit together. Not romantic. He leans over, green eyes staring into yours. 

“You and me. Always?” 

You nod, swallowing hard as you lean back. 

“Plus. They can’t kill us off. We’re the main characters.” 

- 

You shuffle in your seat as the director yells action, as you look down at Eren, tied up against the post in the middle of the set. You’re filming the scene where Levi is supposed to just kick Eren’s ass in the middle of the court, to prove to the other characters that they can control him and his titan powers. 

Except you’re on your fifth take of this scene, Eren getting increasingly frustrated because Levi’s been yelling at him all morning, claiming that he isn’t acting good enough for the scene. Levi’s a bit of a perfectionist, meaning he won’t let anyone leave until the scene is perfect the way he wants it. 

Eren especially. You could always tell that Levi was always more fond of Eren than everyone else, but you never thought that would mean Levi would be extra harsh on him. Which is clearly just pissing Eren off today. 

“Maybe we should dissect her just in case!”

“Wait. Maybe I am a monster, but she has nothing to do with that! Nothing at all!” Eren screams, his voice straining and his eyes pinching shut as he wrestles against the handcuffs. 

“As if we could believe you!” 

“It’s a fact!” 

“You’re defending her? She must be one of you!” 

“No!” 

Levi stomps into the middle of the set, leaning down and getting level with Eren. And then he starts yelling at him. 

“Eren. You can do so much better than that. You have to give it your all or this isn’t going to work.” 

“I am giving it my all. You’ve had me working for five hours now and I-”

“So? You have to get used to that type of time commitment if you want to be the best like you said you did and-” 

Eren and Levi keep going back and forth, Hange signaling at you from the back of the set as you both arise from your chairs, leaning down to meet them. 

“Levi. Go easy on him, we’ve been-” Hange starts, 

“No. He can do better than this and I know he can. He just doesn’t want to. If he would just put in a little effort, it would be better.” 

“Levi, maybe you’re being too harsh on him-” you start. 

Levi rolls his eyes as he stands up, calling for a break as you unhook Eren from the post. The second you unlock him, he storms off straight off of the set. 

“Hange.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you take a longer break from us? I’ll talk to him.” 

“I’ll talk to Levi. He just…he knows Eren can be really good. That he has potential. He’s just trying to get him there faster because he wants Eren to do well.” 

“I know, Hange.” 

You shoot them a smile as you run into the storage closet, yanking out the tandem bike and heading to find Eren. 

- 

You kick the rocks in front of you as you hand Eren the slushie, anxiously looking over at him. He’s still radiating anger, from the way his shoulders are tense and how his knuckles are nearly white against the cup. The two of you biked in silence and even the cashier could tell Eren was having some type of fit today. 

“Eren.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

He sighs as he leans into your touch, resting his head against your shoulder. 

“I just-I’m trying really hard to get it. And Levi’s always just so hard on me, I can’t even tell if I’m doing a good job or if I can do this or-” 

You reach down, crushing his hand in your hold, as you respond. 

“Eren. You’re doing a really great job. Even Levi thinks that. He just… he knows you’re great and he’s trying to tap into that.” 

“I know, it just makes me wonder sometimes if I’m cut out for this. Or that Best Actor savant that I-” 

“Eren. You’re going to get it. I know that for a fact. It might not be this season or the next, but you will get it. You’re- you’re literally amazing, I just know you’ll be one of the best of our generation and-” 

“You’re just saying that because-” 

“I’m not! I really do think that, I- I’d even bet on it for you. You’re the best person for this role and you’re perfect for it and in general too and I just think you should be more confid-”

“Y/N, I-”

“Like really, I think you have the chops to be great. I can’t even believe I have to be your costar because I am infinitely mediocre next to you when you’re just so amazing and already have so many credits and-” 

You’re cut off by Eren’s lips on your cheek, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. You reach up to the skin as you look over at him, positively bug eyed. 

“You-why would y-” 

“The other day. You are my favorite person on set. I just didn’t want them to make fun of us for it.” 

“Oh. Right, I-” 

“Finish the slushie. We’ll go back after.” 

When you return, Eren finishes the scene in one take. And gets Levi’s golden stamp of approval. 

- 

When you and Eren film the last scene of the season, on your last day of shooting for a few months, you can’t help but feel a despair in your chest. Everyone else was already long gone, having given your wistful goodbyes and promises of keeping in touch until you come back to (hopefully) film the second season. 

Which leaves you, Eren, Erwin, Levi, Hange, and the crew to film the last scene. The backstory of how you and Eren came to be, where he wraps the scarf around your neck. 

While you love having everyone else around, it was nice to have a few days of just you and Eren, where you can soak in his company before you have to be apart for a few days. You make ramen together in the mornings, he teaches you how to play video games, and you talk about almost anything and everything in those three days.   

And when you go to film the scene, the despair of being apart from him…from your best friend really settles in. You’re sure it makes the scene all the more better. 

“It’s cold…. I don’t have anywhere to go home to.” you say. 

Eren walks over, his voice uncharacteristically soft, so gentle when he wraps the scarf around your neck that it makes your cheeks burn. 

“You can have this. It’s warm, right?” 

Grisha walks forward, placing a hand on Eren’s shoulder as he says his line. 

“Y/N. You should come live with us. You’ve been through plenty.” 

And when you look at Eren, you can feel your heart beating as he says the next lines. And for some reason, this version of Eren feels less like the character Eren and more like the real Eren. 

Your Eren. Tandem bikes, slushies, squeezing hands three times Eren. 

He reaches forward, squeezing your hand three times like he was reading your fucking mind, as he says the next line. While he acts dismissive, you can see the warmth in his eyes, and it feels like something else. Like he’s trying to hint something at you, tell you something you can’t exactly pick up on. 

“Come on. Let’s go back already. To our home.” 

And when you squeeze Eren’s hand three times back and trail off out of the shot of the camera, you both smile at each other, Eren turning to face you. 

“See you in a few months?” 

“Yeah.”

“Call me every day?” 

You roll your eyes as you reach over to flick his forehead, to which he pinches the sides of your waist. You squirm out of his hold, the feel of his fingers ticklish as you both laugh. 

“Yes, Eren. I’ll call you every day.” 

“Okay, good. Don’t forget me when you become famous overnight.” 

“You’re so full of shit, Eren. That’s not going to happen.” 

You’re totally wrong, for what it’s worth. The first episode of Attack on Titan airs on Friday. You and Eren start trending on Saturday.

--

next part linked here

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[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hello my loves! so this story is quite literally the first piece of work that i have written and actually posted somewhere so i’m sorry if it’s shit. i was a wattpad girlie for a long time so i’m still trying to figure out how to use this app so help is much appreciated (please someone tell me how to set up the request/question thing in my bio, please and thank you.) anywho, thank you so much for reading and i hope you love this story as much as i do! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; prologue

2019

The wind was crisp and bit at Carmen’s cheeks as he trudged up the stairs of his apartment building. All he wanted was a smoke and a nap, which he fully intended to do as he kicked off his shoes, opened the fresh pack sitting on the kitchen counter and tugged his hands through his slicked curls. His motions, however, were screeched to a halt as her voice travelled through their shared home.

“Carm? Is that you?”

She sounded happy. Her tone instantly relaxed his shoulders as she turned the corner out of their bedroom. “Bear, I’m so glad you’re home. I need to tell you something.” Camila giggled as she threw her arms around his shoulders and smothered his cheek and the crook of his neck in kisses. “Yeah, I’m sure you do, baby. Look, can we please just do this tomorrow? I’m a little tired.” Carmy mumbled while shrugging her off but turning around to kiss her hair and stalk over to the window, lighting the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Carmy, come on. This is really important, it can’t wait!” she smiled.

The overstimulation caused by the particularly horrible berating he received from Chef earlier that day along with his tiredness and the cold air rushing in from the cracked open window was too much for Carmen, so he blew up.

“God, Cam! Just not tonight, alright? Please!”

There was silence as his voice echoed through the apartment.

“What happened?”

Concern and a slight pang of fear instantly filled Camila’s chest as she took a hesitant step closer to her boyfriend.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it.” he said, growing irritated while pushing past in the direction of the bedroom.

At that moment, a feeling of defence instantly replaced Camila’s one of concern as she whipped her curls over her shoulder and followed, quite literally on his heels.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened today or why you’re taking it out on me but I really think you should check yourself before I stop being so understanding.”

Running his hands roughly down his face, Carmy took a deep breath before looking back up at her and muttering an apology. “I know, I know, you didn’t deserve that.”

Camila sighed before taking a seat on the bed and patting the space beside her which he quickly occupied before settling into her open arms and nuzzling into her chest, causing the two to fall back against the pillows. The brown-skinned woman kissed the crown of his curls as tears started to dampen the spot on her tank top where his head lay.

The quiet air of their room filled with sniffs and quiet sobs as she attempted to comfort him.

“It’s just too much, Cam.”

“ I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“I just- I can’t handle anything else right now. It’s too much.”

Carmen’s words were met with comfort and care from the woman as she lovingly stroked his hair, prompting him to eventually fall asleep. Once his soft snores finally could be heard, Camila finally allowed her own tears to fall. She hated seeing him like this, so broken over the very reason he woke up in the morning. She hated having to watch him be so overwhelmed and knew right then that she would do anything to preserve his peace at that moment.

And that was why she wouldn’t tell him about the positive pregnancy test sitting in the bin of their bathroom, not yet.

[smokietaylor]

I haven’t been posting a lot recently. I took a break due to work, life, travel and mental health.

You’re not the boss of me

NSFW Minors DNI

Description: In an alternate universe, you are the newly hired chef at Daniel's. Everyone seems warm and welcoming except one chef with icy blue eyes and golden curly hair. Tensions are high between the two of you to the point that every interaction you have is a fight. That is until you discover why there has been so much hatred towards you since your interview.

You’re better than this

NSFW Minors DNI

Description: Carmy hires you to work at The Beef right after you graduated from culinary school. You know nothing about Carmen’s background other than he is a guy that gave you a job, and you can finally start working in a real kitchen. Things get heated between the two of you. There is a reason that Carmy is being so hard on you that you will come to know later as the two of you argue.

Switching roles

NSFW Minors DNI

Description: Carmy is working in New York with Chef when Carmy finally gets tired of Chef berating him and gets his revenge. Carmy thought that the two of them being “together” was a one-time thing but that seems not to be the case. A real mix of toxic behavior and men not dealing with their feelings.

Chef’s plaything

NSFW Minors DNI

Description: Carmen is working in new york under a chef (who we all know is Joel Mchale) who is always on his ass. After a particularly hard shift, Chef decides that it's time for some much-needed stress relief.

[roseofcards90]

It honestly baffles me how people are dunking on Sada and Turo for being shitty parents much more than I saw when Sun and Moon first came and Lusamine was first revealed to be the villain like huh 😭 where was that energy before??? Because I feel there’s more nuance with Sada and Turo’s characters and their motivations than there were with Lusamine’s (I’m talking about her in the games of course, not the anime. I will also leave discussion for what happens in Ultra Sun and Moon for another post, so I’m only talking about the plot of the original Sun and Moon here). I’m honestly just tired of all the bashing on the Professors and them being watered down to “typical shitty parent in Pokemon” when the game clearly states and implies the exact opposite.

Lusamine is very much shown to have abandoned her kids, openly berating them and saying she has no children right in front of her daughter’s face because they “abandoned her love” and going forth with her plan to open the wormholes and summon the ultra beasts with no consideration for anything else. She doesn’t have the headspace to care about her children anymore in her plan, in huge contrast to Sada/Turo’s plan where despite how extreme it was, was at the core still centered around their son and their family. I think chalking it down to just “well they’re still both bad parents anyway” takes away some of the complexity surrounding their characters in the first place. Also I’m only bringing Lusamine as a comparison mostly because Ghetsis and Giovanni do not have any other depth to their characters in the core games lmao, and I feel Lusamine is a great example of a parent who used to care but had lost that love after her husband’s “death” and along the way of achieving her goal, while Sada and Turo are examples of the complete opposite: parents who still held onto that love and care throughout their goal, but took it so far that they hurt the one person it was for the most out of everything. It really feels like people are portraying the professors’ flaws in the completely wrong way. The problem was never “they never loved their son at all and intentionally abandoned him” it was “they became so invested and deluded in their plan they ended up neglecting the treasure it was supposed to be for.” which is exactly what distinguishes them from all the other parent antagonists we’ve seen so far. There’s a certain tragedy present in seeing a broken family that used to be so happy together that I feel was also in Sun and Moon’s story, but was muddled due to the story focusing on other aspects.

And I’m going to address this right now because I know people are going to say something because they lack reading comprehension: I am not excusing Sada and Turo’s actions in the game and how their neglect had affected Arven. Explanations are not Excuses. You can acknowledge that they loved their son while still hurting him in the end, both ideas can coexist. I merely just want to analyze wtf even happened here for the professor to go down this path. And it’s also worth nothing that we don’t have much answers in the game itself as of right now, since well—the original is dead and we’re dealing with an AI version of them for the entirety of the game. Most of this is coming from the original’s journals in the lab, but I think the game makes a clear distinction that they still loved Arven even after everything. Despite their delusion taking over them, I think they genuinely believed what they were doing was the best for them and their family despite otherwise. The whole point at the end was to highlight how they didn’t need to create that paradise. They had that loving family already, and it was too late for them to realize that Arven only needed them and nothing else.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I want the DLC to address Arven’s other parent and what exactly happened to them (or better yet, meet them in the story which would honestly be an interesting parallel where the professor of the opposite version is the one you get to know more than the original in game one). I know the in game Professor’s journal entry says they “walked out” but what does that even mean in hindsight? Keep in mind this is from the point of view of someone who’s continuously being deluded into their own idea of paradise, who most likely felt grief after their partner left them that they built an entire AI of themselves to help complete the project.

And yet they still say they’re going to build a paradise for “the three of them.” Does that mean the in game professor was also trying in some way to bring the other parent back? What if it was an accident? What if they were sent through the time machine and couldn’t go back, and the in game professor was so distraught their delusion out of sheer desperation made it so they processed it as “(s)he walked out on me, and now I’m all alone.” Of course this all a lot of speculation, but it just doesn’t make sense to me how Arven’s other parent would “leave” like that. Maybe I’m being an optimist about it, but it really does feel like it was unwillingly in some way, where the in game professor’s increasing delusion was the reason why they “left” so to speak.

And that’s not even addressing the 3rd legendary of the game and its role in all of this is. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was meant to parallel the snake/the devil in Genesis, as the sin of temptation since the professor and Area Zero have a lot of similarities with the Garden of Eden and this idea of “paradise” for their family. Where the 3rd legendary gave them the opportunity to create their paradise by giving them access to the paradox pokemon and terastalizing, and thus influenced them so much, it eventually led them down to a path of their own destruction consumed by the delusion that they could create a paradise for their family, but failed to recognize they ended up hurting the one person they treasured most in the end. If the other professor did indeed return in the DLC, maybe it would give the chance to separate themselves from their spouse and make things right with both the region and Arven. Having them be the antithesis to the other Professor’s motivation and making the choice to stay with Arven in the present would be a really cool way to wrap up the story ngl.

Anyways people who portray them as apathetic and uncaring to Arven in fan art and fics I wish you a very “play the fucking game again please”. Even their character design sheets say otherwise, especially with Sada like I cannot imagine the woman described as “not being able to hide her emotions well” would be a cold and uncaring mother like come on 💀 I played Violet for crying out loud and I’m still able to recognize that.

[angelicbeaut]

I FINALLY REALITY SHIFTED. (02/27/23)

this is my raw feelings about it, might post concisely thought out ones after I get better at it.

so, excuse me if this post gets long. But i reality shifted early this morning, at around 5 or 6am with no warning and I am shook okay. I am shook. When reading this post I want you to keep in mind that everyone’s experience with reality shifting is different, and if you don’t identify with any of this, that is fine. And if you have not reality shifted yet, do not allow this to create fear or any doubt in your heart, because you have only just begun to understand the true power you have.

I was a person who did not believe. I studied LOA, read everything, forced myself to do everything I thought would take me there, and I still did not get there. I would pester myself and berate myself when I did not succeed. I was hard on myself. I never gave myself breaks, I was obsessed with creating an ability that already naturally exists inside all of us.

Well, all of that clamoring came to a stop when my grandfather died of cancer last week. It shook me to my core. Broke me. To the point I could not force myself to do anymore studying, I didn’t listen to subliminal, I cut out the whole world and I had to just be with myself. I took out time to do things that I liked, I sat with my emotions, I processed and I had to just be. And a peace came over me, a peace I have never felt before.

Yesterday night I was happy, kicking it with friends in the chat rooms I surfed through, up until god knows when because I had given myself the rest of Sunday to rest. I was up til around 5 or 6am. And at 6am I became so tired that I actually waded into sleepiness, and I started to imagine sitting in an arm chair, looking at a black flatscreen tv, that was on a brown nightstand. I don’t know why and I don’t know what came over me but I realized I was fully aware that the rest of my body was sleep. I had fought kicked and screamed to reach this state for almost a year and right now I was reaching it effortlessly. I was there. At first it was darkness, but then the image started to appear right in front of me. Now keep in mind I sleep in a dorm room, with my bed lofted in the air, and all of a sudden I was almost in the room that was completely different than where I was, centered on the floor.

I observed and thought it was strange but that I was just going into a dream. Then suddenly, I felt my spirit or soul, I’m struggling to find the right term so please correct me if you have more insight, separate from my body, going downward. Almost like I was sucked out of my body. My heart started to beat so fast, it was blaring against my chest, and I wanted to wake up. I didn’t want to believe I wanted to run from this, but I didn’t. I forced myself to continue. I calmed my mind and spoke to myself in my head which I could hear as if it were outloud. And then all of a sudden, I was in the room. The room I had imagined.

I was so stunned when it came to color and when I realized I could feel the leather arm chair underneath my body. I was there. I looked around and I felt my head move and then I slowly started to move the rest of my body. I actively stood up, and I was actively thinking about everything. I looked around and when I finally got my bearings I wanted to experiment, I told myself “if this is truly real I’m gonna see my celebrity crush in the next room” and there she was, now, I acted on my desires queens and I won’t go any further. You know the deal.

I explored, I ate ice cream of flavors I can’t even describe to you, I felt true peace, I had a blast. But then, my anxiety set in when I realized I had a class in the morning. So I almost summoned back the room, and I sat back in the chair and told myself I was going back to my current reality. At first it went to blackness and faded in and out between my desired and current reality. But then my eyes flew open automatically after I felt myself go back into my body, going up like a fast elevator until I was back in my bed in the dorm.

Now I was so overwhelmed when I realized exactly what happened that I fainted.

When I came to it was around noon. My chest hurt but I was so overwhelmed with joy and confusion that I called one of my best friends who also is into reality shifting and we geeked out, I called my other best friend, I called my parents, anyone who would listen.

Not everyone will believe but what I will tell you is that it is very real. It is true. I felt as if I had someone how convinced myself of a huge lie and I was tricking myself but no, listen to me, NO. it is real.

Today I have not been feeling real, so caught up in what happened, but I am now solidified in the fact that I can reality shift, this is real, I am the universe. I am god and I can do anything with little no effort. I wish I could tell my grandfather this.

Be still, and know that you are god. Trust yourself. Trust that you are this universe and your power is golden. You are amazing. I believe in you. I believe in me.

Don’t give up! I love you!

If anyone has any suggestions or tips for aftercare or shifting or any tips on what I should do the next time I shift, please let me know below!

- Che <3

[voxiiferous]

Abe can smell a sad soul from a mile away. He's drawn to them, and they come to him because he can help them feel better and forget their woes, and when they remember the next day, they eventually come back. But he wasn't expecting this particular sinner to enter his club. "Well, aren't you a new face around here? What's your poison, friend?"

@do-these-eyes-look-human

He and Valentino have had bad breakups before, ones that ended in screaming matches across tables, and frantic make out sessions on desks, his screen in pieces across the floor, or posted on Voxtagram for everyone to see. They’ve been private, and they’ve been public. He’s been alone after, or spent the night at Hellaina’s house while she berated him for going back, as she screwed in a replacement screen.

He would say they broke up with each other roughly as often as one anotber, but it had gotten more frequent in the last fifteen, twenty years. Closer to twenty when he thinks about it. He’s felt a thousand different ways after it too, but right now he feels… tired. Empty, maybe, hollowed and cored out in a way that even show business has never quite managed to leave him.

He’s escaped to the club to be around people, and ideally, to be some mostly anonymous one, not hemmed in to n all sides by his smiling face in the billboards and his peddled lies.

Vox looks up the address and laughs, a shallow, synthetic sound, he smiles, letting it all fade under the Overlord veneer that was half second skin and half protective habit after so long. “Not my usual scene, I admit.” He pats his pocket, and pulls out a USB stick of Exe.stasy. “Nothing you can provide, I’m afraid,” to demonstrate, he taps the screen. “This body is built for a lot of things, but poison isn’t one of them anymore.”

[gothhabiba]

Hi! Morrocan mint tea anon here.

I’m not Morrocan myself, but due to family relationships my dad spent a lot of time with his little brother’s Moroccan family, and brought me along, so I grew up with a lot of Moroccan food as a child, including Moroccan mint tea.

I’m sorry if I was weird about it! I’ll try and keep my eye on these kinds of things in the future. I noticed you were talking about Morocco in your last post, and made the comment. I’ll do a better job of not making unnecessary comments in the future. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable!

It is very common for racialised people to be approached and addressed specifically and immediately on the topic of food—upon being told, guessing, or otherwise extracting information about my ethnicity from me, the #1 comment a (usually) white person will usually give me is about how much they love Moroccan food (the #2 comment is about how their mother's bassoon teacher's dog's vet's sister was from Iraq or something, lmao)—I recall reading on a white woman's cooking blog's recipe for warqa dough that she had gotten the recipe by seeing a woman at a park, guessing that she was Moroccan, chasing her down, and immediately demanding to be taught how to make it.

This is, like I said, a very common trope, and it's tiring and uncomfortable in the same way that anything that is repeated often is uncomfortable—but especially so since food is literally something you consume—a culture with which someone associates you (thus, in a way, you) is being reflected back at you through their eyes as symbol, destination, thing, object of desire, but never "structure," anything with depth or life of its own. This sort of thing puts me in mind of the Orientalist project (which, in fact, originated in North Africa)—create a curiosity for a culture, present it as a series of curios, things to be experienced, foods to be eaten, décor to be purchased, all in a way that reinforces the right of the coloniser both to extract material value from the nations it imperialises but also to present that culture to his or her own nation, or even to itself—to say what the culture is "like," which objects the culture consists in (so that these objects, and the labour required to mine, forage, harvest, and/or craft them, can be forcibly extracted from the colonised or imperialised country, and demand for these objects can be created in the colonial 'centre')—that is to say, to present a culture or shoved-together group of cultures as nothing more than a series or collection of objects or vignettes.

I also find it odd that, not only did you immediately associate Morocco with this object and need to tell me about it upon learning that I was Moroccan (and really, what am I meant to say in response?)—you also, assuming you learnt this information to-day, found it out as a result of racist and Islamophobic harassment being directed against me due to my ethnicity—and then, rather than commenting on or denouncing said racist harassment or just, like, continuing to scroll, you made a comment about food...... perhaps you didn't see the series of asks I got from this person (just to-day, though there were others a few months ago, and there were more in my inbox that I just simply deleted), but you can see why this gives me pause.

I really don't mean to berate you btw—I appreciate your apology & wouldn't bother explaining any of this if I didn't think you were being genuine

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Dreamstuck, 4! What's your favorite line of dialogue?

OOOOOO GOOD QUESTION!!! YES WONDERFUL :3 hmmm there are many different chatlogs i could look at for this but i think i would like to show one that i recently wrote for chapter 106! so like. it's way later in the story and probably a chapter that won't be posted for MONTHS yet, but i wrote this confrontation between Sam and Sam Nook and i wanna showcase some of Sam Nook's lines here because i just think he's neat :3

"RW: THIS GAME YOU’RE HAVING US PLAY IS TIRED. RW: IF YOU DON’T ADMIT TO EVERYONE THAT I’M NOT JUST SOME HELPLESS AUTO RESPONDER, I WILL TELL THEM. RW: YOU’RE TOO SCARED TO ADMIT TO EVERYONE THAT YOU SCANNED YOUR OWN BRAIN, PUT IT IN A COMPUTER, TWEAKED A FEW THINGS, AND SET ME LOOSE JUST TO BERATE YOU FOR YOUR OWN FAULTS EVEN WHEN I DON’T BELIEVE WHAT I SAY HALF THE TIME. RW: IF THEY KNOW WHAT I AM, THEY’LL HELP YOU. RW: YOU FORGET THAT I AM YOU, SAM. I SEE THE WAY THEY TALK TO YOU AND I KNOW THEY CARE. RW: INCLUDING PONK. RW: I WANT WHAT YOU HAVE WITH THEM, AND YOU PUSH THEM ALL AWAY. RW: YOU’RE TAKING THEM FOR GRANTED BECAUSE YOU CAN’T GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR OWN ASS LONG ENOUGH TO SEE THE GOOD THINGS YOU DESERVE AND ALREADY HAVE. RW: SAM. RW: YOU ARE NOT A BAD PERSON. RW: NO ONE WHO WANTS TO BE GOOD THIS BADLY COULD BE A TERRIBLE PERSON. RW: YOU DON’T HAVE TO PUNISH YOURSELF. RW: YOU CAN STOP."

[life-of-clexa]

Let me just say that this is the first time I’ve ever written something like this, I’m not the best writer but I am proud of it and wanted to post somewhere. Please give me some tips on how to improve it, and also don’t be afraid to tell me if you don’t like something.(Sidenote: Clarke is not dead, I know it seems that way, but she’s not I swear. Also it won’t turn out to just be platonic I promise) I’d love to continue this but it would require me having some help from somebody. If you’re interested or have any ideas for how to continue please let me know!😊❤️

THEN: The first thing she remembers is blue. Just blue. The kind of blue that artists paint the oceans with, or crystal clear water. So much blue she thought she could die right there, staring at a complete stranger with luscious blonde hair, and deep blue eyes, a woman whom she had never met before, but felt like she had known her entire life. A hand reached out to shake her own "Clarke. Nice to meet you." "Lexa, nice to meet you too. Have you been here before? I feel like I know you..." Blue eyes stared back at hers with a glint in them. "No, but I get that a lot, I think it's the eyes, people tend to find comfort in them I guess." "That makes sense" Lexa responded, "Well I guess we better get to work then huh?" she questioned. All she got was a small, but polite smile in return. From then on they were the best of friends. There wasn't a single day that they weren't together, and there was nothing that could keep them apart.

NOW: Tired green eyes cracked open to see the sun peeking through the window, they explored, made note of the dresser across the room, the familiar face in the lone picture frame. Blue eyes squinting with happiness, smile so wide she could swear she saw it touch the ears of the beautiful blonde subject of the photo. They shifted over to the old sketchbook sitting on the edge. Memories came flooding back of sneaking glances just to see the beautiful drawings that the artist created. They jumped to the nightstand next to the bed, the phone that sat on it, quietly buzzing. A long arm with quite a unique tattoo climbing up the bicep reached out to grab it. "Hello?" a hoarse crack in the words. "We're going out tonight, be ready by 10!" A voice shrilled from the other end of the line, "Anya I really don't feel like it. It's just too soon." she rasped and hung up the phone. It rang again. She ignored it. This went on for about twenty minutes until she finally picked up the phone again. "Alexandra Hope Woods!" Her sister berated her for hanging up, "It's been a year, you have to get out there at some point." "Exactly Anya, it's been a year, exactly one year since my life was torn to shreds. Like a tiger devouring its meal." Lexa reminded her. Anya sighed and shook her head, though the other girl couldn't see it, she knew what she was about to say. "If you don't at least try, you're never going to get back on your feet..." she whispered. "Anya I don't want to! I was happy then, and that was taken from me, so unless you can reverse time and draw my past back to the present, I'm never going to be able to get over it! The only reason I stayed is because I made a promise, and I'm not breaking a promise to someone that isn't even here to defend it." She hung up the phone again. Lexa felt bad for yelling at her sister, so she decided to shoot her a quick text. "I'm sorry. I'm just not ready yet. I don't know that I'll ever be. I just need time." And that was the end of it.

[kingspuppet]

I love Goro. He’s my blorbo. My silly little guy. The character that has me in a chokehold as he repeatedly steps violently all over my heart (and I thoroughly enjoy it). But sometimes having him as my favorite character is frustrating and exhausting.

Honestly I feel very fortunate that the spaces I frequent are generally either very Goro positive or at the very least neutral towards him. And I don’t actively go out of my way to seek out hate about him (or even hate about the people that love and enjoy him as a character). I’m miserable enough without doing all of that unnecessary bullshit. It’s pointless to piss myself off in that way. But that doesn’t stop me from seeing the odd comment that is extremely negative on the most random of posts. And I’m not talking about the people who, despite not liking him, talk critically about his character. He’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and that’s perfectly okay. In fact, I think it’s interesting to see those kinds of analytical takes to see their perspective. But it’s tiring seeing people actively hating on Goro and the people that enjoy him just to be vicious towards them for enjoying a character that’s antagonistic in nature.

Granted, this isn’t necessarily just a Goro or antagonist/deuteragonist/problematic character thing. I know that there are characters that are generally good people, beings, or creatures that still get shit on by the fanbase. (I’m looking at Morgana and Ryuji here specifically.) But it’s especially prevalent with characters that aren’t inherently morally good or heroic in some nature, or that they’ve made extremely bad mistakes and questionable decisions. And after awhile it gets really tiring seeing it. I’ve written quite a few morally grey and villainous characters in my 11+ years of roleplaying, and I know that loving a character like that comes with negativity towards them. And again, there’s nothing wrong with hating/disliking characters like this. What is wrong is attacking the people that do actually enjoy these characters. Thankfully I’ve never had to deal with this myself firsthand (and knock on wood that I never have to), but I’ve seen a lot of it geared at others that also like the same character or directly at the group of fans as a whole and it’s really upsetting. Enjoying a character and appreciating what they can offer to a story doesn’t equal us condoning their actions. I’ve also said before that if Goro were an actual person I would hate his guts and would love to see him rot in jail. I still stand by that. But there’s nothing wrong with liking an antagonistic character and it isn’t a reason to harass someone over. In short, if you hate the character and their fans so much then just block them!! Don’t be an asshole and harass people over it. Just move on and go enjoy the characters you actually love instead of berating people for theirs.

[psychoticwillgraham]

at the doctor’s for another post op appointment for mom and when sis went to get the copay money, they both berated me (loudly) in public at the hospital bc I forgot to put the cash back in her wallet (all of the cash is in separate envelopes back at home and I forgot to get any cash bc I’m so used to just seeing it in the wallet and sis was rushing me like crazy to get out the door) so sis had to use her debit card which she bitched about, which is funny as hell bc she makes 105k a year and she’s constantly doing Amazon and shein hauls and gets like twenty packages a day, and made sure both of them shamed me very publicly and screamed at me. the poor receptionist had to sit through that and she gave me a sympathetic look.

I hate that they both constantly tell ppl that I have the mind of a 12 year old and ‘can’t follow directions whatsoever’ and that I get confused with basic tasks when in reality, that’s not true. one, I’m autistic, which they both refuse to believe bc I don’t ‘look’ autistic (or look like an r slur which they constantly tell me and use the actual slur against me. and frequently), so it takes me an extra ten seconds or so to comprehend what you just said and if you gave me complicated instructions I need you to walk through it with me verbally and with a physical demonstration, and you have to talk slowly otherwise I won’t understand a goddamn thing u just said, and I’m tired of being shamed in public when I make a mistake, and sis especially makes it a point to berate and shame me in public, always in public, in front of a decent amount of people as if to embarrass me and make me cry in front of all these people.

that woman has absolutely no fucking business being a nurse. especially with how she talks about suicide attempt cases and calling them all crazies all while having a sibling, me, who nearly died from an attempt and who is severely mentally ill. she’s a real fucking winner all right.

[yueasuka]

The more I think about it, the more I feel like Ghost Rule is Felix's song especially post reveal or half reveal where he know Ladybug identity first.

No, look, listen...

Having lied about the most inconsequential of things, I'm unable to go back. No statute of limitations for my crime. Robbed of forgiveness for that thievery of mine

Bridgette and Felix is already a friend's, maybe not really close, but friends regardless and considering how kind she is, if he were to tell her about the curse she would most likely help him out even if she doesn't have a feelings for him. But at this point, Felix has lied for so long that he couldn't just take everything he had said back and thus continue to lie to cover up another lie which lead to the next verse :

Things don’t look any better today Unable to keep up this deception the way I’d hoped Slowly lapsing in depravity I hardly realize what has already become rotten

The more lies he made, the more he deprived her from the truth and as the lie piled up he found himself in never ending circle of lie that he couldn't escape from and it eating him alive.

Come here, stay “I hid it away”

He want to tell Bridgette the truth but at this point would that make any difference?

Mayday! Even if you realize it’s me You don’t need to hold me in your arms again Hey, Mayday! If you realize it’s me Will you kindly laugh at me once more?

Felix know what he had done is terrible and he doesn't even expect forgiveness, after he play with her feelings like that. But still he couldn't help but hope that maybe... maybe she could forgive him, one day?

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh I know I’m nothing but a ghost Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh An empty shell built of lies, hey!

He knows he's nothing but a liar, he had lie so much that the whole existence of Chat Noir, 'the hero of paris' that he created has become the lie itself. Because there's nothing heroic about him. Chat Noir is, after all, a fake persona that he created to fool her.

Though I’m sure that “NO” is what I try to say Strangely it comes out as “YES” The bad thing about regret is that you start to realize that if You can fool someone completely, then you’re innocent Choosing to act cowardly, unfairly? No big deal, a prayer or two can take care of that That affected talkativeness of mine Just digging my own grave, burning myself out

The lie has piled up more to the point he couldn't keep up with it, "Did I say A? Or is it B for this question?" "Did I say this as Chat Noir or as Felix?" In the end he just say many things, but nothing at the same time. But hey even if it's become inconsistent he could just lie through it, right?

That sense of guilt, beholding like this for how long? It’s all going gray Even if it’s just me acting like the victim

Lie has become so easy for him, like breath. Except with every breath he take, the more he feels suffocate by it. How much longer can he keep it up?

Mayday! Feel free to berate me If honesty seems like such a wonderful thing Hey, Mayday! Bring down the gavel and seal my fate I who’ve chosen to act spoiled to the end

In the end the truth came out in the light (most likely by third party) and all Felix can do is just... Accept his fate.

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh I’m just a wandering spirit, dead and gone Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh A blank void, empty as can be, hey!

He has gotten tired of it. All the lies he told her has made him... empty, just an empty shell made of lies.

Wishing for what I lacked I came face to face with a version of “me” That was nothing like myself And yet I kept going Even through the dark night that made my head swim Love me! I who lack so much I was raised by that selfish egotism of mine after all Can you really see me? This lonely, poisoned clown

The moment he confronted himself, Felix couldn't help but laugh at himself. He hate his father because he's a liar, he told young Felix that his mother disappeared when in reality she was dead. And yet here he is, become a liar that he hate the most that he couldn't even recognized himself anymore, drowned in the sea of lies that poison him.

Mayday! Expose me for what I really am For this world is about to meet its end Hey, Mayday! Dance with me! Did you actually realize “I” was never truly here to begin with?

While he knows how selfish he is for hoping for her to forgive him, he couldn't help but yearned for Bridgette's love. "love me! Dance with me!" Although he wondered if he really love her or is it just another lie? Can she see the real him among the pile of lies that he built thorough all this time when he couldn't even see himself anymore?

"What am I? Am I really exist? Or is my existence just a lie?"