#Laurel does yes

[certified-ultimate-simp]

:3

Imagine your f/o writing you love letters/poems.

proship/comship/neutral DNI

[kenobion]

Andrew Garfield for Sky TV

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.

[sleepbby]

how to get away with murder is that show that I will always happily rewatch and will defend till the end

[wild-lavender-rose]

I did the thing

Let me know if it goes to the right thing🫣. I don't know how to do this 🤣

AHHHHHH the color scheme, the font, the FICS! I love it!!! You must be so proud! It looks great, I've already followed you and I can't wait to read your stuff!

Everyone please go follow this terrific writer!

[autism-corner]

whoops

[devdozes]

Love me like a sailor

im sorry it was a long time anwyyas hope u like the fic ! horror, dark romance ig?, lowkey YANDERE some spoilers on 3.2 quest, and just silliness

The scent of laurel smoke curled through the air, laced with something older, bitter—like burnt parchment and hubris. You stood beneath the Sacred Tree, where philosophers carved truth into bark and left their minds to rot with honor. They called this place holy.

You called it absurd.

“Found something funny?”

His voice was a low purr, golden in timbre, venomous in rhythm. Anaxagoras—Anaxa, as he insisted you call him when no one else could hear—emerged from the columns like a specter from forgotten scripture. His robes shimmered like oil on water, reflecting knowledge too painful to bear. Eye the color of the sweet magenta-cyan ombre.

You didn’t look away.

“Only the idea that anyone here thinks they know anything at all.”

That smile. That cursed smile. He hated it. He loved it.

“Blasphemy,” he whispered, delighted. “You’ll fit right in.”

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Nousporists had no scriptures, no prayers, only questions so sharp they left the mind bleeding. Anaxa led them like a messiah of madness, burning every ideal of truth to rebuild his own version—twisted and elegant, cruel and beautiful.

You should have left the Grove.

Instead, you debated him.

And that’s when the trouble began.

Because when you said, “You’re wrong,” with a laugh in your voice and not a shred of fear in your eyes, he felt something break. And Anaxa did not break.

So he followed you. He read your discarded notes. Memorized your arguments. Stole the scent of your skin from the folds of your coat when you left it unattended. Rewrote his entire doctrine to include you as a conceptual axis without you noticing.

He never touched you.

He never dared.

But every night, in the sanctum where thoughts became flame and philosophies were branded into flesh, he dreamed of flaying the world open and handing you its still-beating heart.

“You don’t get tired of chasing your own logic circles?” you asked once, after a particularly vicious debate.

Anaxa looked you dead in the eye slowly, as though the sight of your breath misting in the cold air was sacred.

“I only walk in circles because you are the center.”

You laughed.

He didn’t.

The Nousporists were not a school. They were a fever. An idea that spread like mold under gilded thought. Founded by Anaxa, born from his desire to prove that even divinity could fracture under scrutiny. To challenge the Coreflame of Reason was to challenge god itself—and so he did.

But what the others never understood was this:

The Nousporists were built for you.

His "heresies"? All mimics of your questions.

Does truth decay the longer we observe it? Is prophecy a mirror, or a command? Can love exist without misinterpretation?

You were not a lover. Not yet.

You were a problem.

Anaxa studied you like a puzzle made of void and starlight. Every time you opened your mouth, it wasn’t words—it was scripture only he could hear.

Subject Log, Entry 12 I accused her of solipsism. She laughed. She asked if I dream in color. I lied and said yes. (Note: I need to know what she dreams. Perhaps she dreams me.)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The deeper your research delved into the Chrysos Lineage, the less you slept. The more Anaxa watched you not as a peer, but as a phenomenon.

Your desk was a chaos of forbidden manuscripts, old glyphs glowing faintly, and diagrams of neural decay. At the center was your theory: The chrysosis was not divine punishment, but cognitive overload—a truth so absolute the brain set itself aflame to escape it.

Anaxa began sleeping in your study. He said it was to "supervise your deductions."

He never slept.

One night, while researching on Tribios as per Anaxa's request, you fell asleep with your cheek pressed to your notes. When you stirred, hours later, Anaxa was still at your side, chin resting on his folded arms beside you. His eyes were closed. Not asleep. Just...waiting.

He whispered, "I tried to dream about you. But I couldn’t replicate you. Not even in sleep."

Your breath caught. You wanted to mock him, to defuse it—but the way he looked at you made your heart crack sideways. Like you were his last theorem. Like he would kill every scholar in the Grove if it meant you’d say his name just once with awe.

And perhaps you did. Quietly.

"Anaxa." Holy fucking shit, he felt his undead heart burst up with blood

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Chrysos Heirs—beings of legend, said to carry the golden blood of the gods—were central figures in Amphorean history. Aglaea, the Goldweaver, stood as the acting leader of the Heirs, her divine authority inherited from the Titan Mnestia. Phainon, the Nameless King was undergoing the trial of the Coreflame. Hyacine, the enigmatic priest, was whispered to possess the ability to mend the celestial realm and to bear the fate of Aquila. Mydei, the Undying, bore a curse that rendered him immortal, a testament to his harrowing past. Cipher, the Fleet-footed, was a shadow that danced on the fringes of time, her allegiance and motives obscured, She was the demi-god of Zagreus.​

Together, you and Anaxa embarked on a clandestine journey to dissect the essence of these figures. Nights were spent poring over ancient manuscripts, deciphering prophecies, and constructing theories that bordered on heresy.

The question that haunted your research was profound: What was the true nature of the Coreflames, and why were these individuals deemed worthy of their inheritance?

"The Titans,"

Anaxa mused one evening, fingers tracing the faded ink of a forbidden text, "were said to have crafted the very fabric of our existence. Their Coreflames are not mere symbols of power; they are fragments of creation itself."

You nodded, the gravity of his words sinking in. "And the Chrysos Heirs are the vessels chosen to wield these fragments. But by whom? And to what end?"

Anaxa's eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and something deeper, more insidious.

"That, my dear, is the crux of our inquiry."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Your research led you to the origins of the Titans themselves—beings born from the Coreflames, each embodying fundamental aspects of existence. Kephale, the Worldbearing Titan, had sacrificed their Coreflame to ignite the Dawn Device, creating a sanctuary amidst the chaos wrought by the Black Tide. This act of selflessness set the stage for the rise of the Chrysos Heirs.

"The Black Tide," Anaxa pondered aloud, "was the catalyst that plunged the Titans into madness. But what if it was more than a mere calamity? What if it was a deliberate act to dismantle the old order?

The notion was radical, yet it aligned with the patterns you had begun to discern. "And the Chrysos Heirs are the instruments to establish a new order—a cycle perpetuated by the acquisition of Coreflames." Anaxa's expression darkened, a shadow crossing his features.

"A cycle that demands scrutiny. For if we are to break free from the chains of predestination, we must first understand the forge in which they were crafted."

"So, in simple words, The current chrysos heirs who bear the coreflame of the deceased titans, will bear the misfortune of becoming the titan in the next cycle..?" You questioned as your eyes widened to meet his magenta-cyan eyes this time driven with something which not even you knew.

"Correct." He said as his grin widened.

You glanced up to find him sitting unnervingly still, the ink quill idle in his hand. His eyes were on you—but not in the way a scholar looked at a peer.

His gaze had slipped. Dropped. Traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your lips. He wasn’t hearing your words anymore. His lips parted as if something sat behind them—some urge, some truth trying to claw its way out.

Your throat felt dry.

“...Anaxa?”

He didn’t look away. His stare stayed heavy. Dark. Hungry in a way he’d never let surface before.You shifted in your seat, your heart thudding once in your chest, louder than it should’ve.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He blinked once. Slowly. And smiled with an unsettling softness, like he was indulging in something he wasn’t supposed to. “Forgive me. You said something… that caught my attention.”

“Something about the Heirs?”His eyes flicked back up to yours. “Something far more dangerous. Your breath hitched. The tension in the room was suffocating now—thick, aching.

You couldn’t explain why your pulse was racing, or why you suddenly felt like you were being studied not as a colleague, but as a mystery he was desperate to unravel.

You looked back down at your scroll, trying to focus.

“W-We should finish transcribing this section before—”

His voice was lower now. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You froze. Slowly looked back up.

Anaxa’s smile had vanished. His fingers were curled around the edge of the table, knuckles white. His pupils dilated. The madness in his gaze shimmered like oil beneath a calm sea.

“Every night I leave this chamber and I think I’ve regained my composure. And then I see you again and I—” He stopped himself, biting down on the inside of his cheek. “...This is not what I intended. I wanted truth. I wanted the the true reason of all of us, the Titans’ legacy. But now I find myself… wanting something I was not supposed to want.”

You stared. Unable to speak.

“And it infuriates me,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “Because it makes me weak. You make me weak.” The words hit you harder than they should’ve.

You felt hot. Flushed. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say. Was he confessing? Was he unraveling?

“Anaxa…” you started, voice shaky, unsure if it was warning or invitation. He leaned forward, slow, calculated—like a predator who didn’t want to scare its prey, but couldn’t help indulging in the thrill of it. His hand stopped just beside yours, close enough to feel the heat of his skin.

But he didn’t touch you.

He wouldn’t. Not yet.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want,” he whispered, voice dangerously soft. “But you should know this: the more we uncover, the more I realize the truth of this world is nothing compared to the truth I’ve found in you.” He said as he forcefully moves back away from you, in fear and something else

You held his gaze. Breath shallow.

The silence between you and Anaxa stretched taut—thick like honey, cloying like fate. He hadn’t moved since the moment he confessed those words.

The fire in his voice still clung to the air like smoke, and yet something in his expression had begun to flicker—falter.

His lashes lowered, eyes narrowing not with menace now, but something disturbingly fragile. Doubt. As if he expected your silence to become a knife. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he muttered suddenly, voice cracking at the edges.

“You’ll leave. You’ll run. Like all the others who called me cursed. Mad. A blasphemer…” You stood. Slowly. He didn’t flinch, but his jaw locked tight. He expected distance. Recoil. Rejection. A scholar might call it logical consequence—he called it inevitability. But you didn’t move away.

You stepped closer. He blinked, confusion warping into something far more desperate as he rose slightly tumbling backwards. “What are you—?”

You were close enough now to see the cracks in him. Not physical—no. His composure. That perfectly constructed mask he wore around the others, around even you, was splintering right at the edges.

You could see it in the twitch of his mouth. The unsteady breath.

The trembling in his fingers as he kept them clenched at his sides, refusing to reach for you. Because he didn’t dare. Because he feared touching you would shatter the only sacred thing left in his world.

You leaned forward. Brief. Barely a heartbeat’s worth of contact. Your lips brushed his. A breath. A flicker of softness. A question without words.Then you pulled back, just as fast.

Your heart thundered, panic laced in your movements as you turned to go, your voice stumbling out—“Forget that happened, we have research to—”

But you didn’t get far.

His hand was on your waist.

Gripping.

Firm.

Not rough.

Not yet. But trembling with restraint.Then he pulled you back, and suddenly he was burying his face into the crook of your neck like a man starved.

Like something had finally broken loose in him—unleashed, unstopped, unholy. You gasped softly as you felt his breath ghost across your skin.His voice was low, unsteady, wrecked.

“Why… would you do that to me?” His other hand found your back, clutching it like he was trying to make sure you were real.

Like you’d slip through his fingers otherwise.His grip tightened. And behind his calm whispering, behind the warm pressure of his body pressed into yours, his thoughts spiraled like wildfire—

She’s mine. She’s real. She kissed me. Me. Not them. Not the sages, not the heirs. Me. She chose me. She cannot leave. She cannot see the others. She cannot be claimed by anyone else. I will burn the world if it touches her. I will gut the sky itself if it looks at her wrong.

His eyes—glowing now, iridescent with the light of something not entirely sane—flickered open against your skin. He pressed his lips to your throat. Not a kiss. A mark. A claim without blood.

“You don’t know,” he whispered, trembling. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

You didn’t know. But maybe… maybe you wanted to. Because you didn’t push him away .And that was enough to damn him.

Woah sorry if it's ooc and bad, I've lost my writing skills 😞

[spinfins]

Dorian Pavus is bemused, you guys.

It’s not that he isn’t grateful. Every Titus, Dorcas, and Haddix that joins the Shadow Dragons is a boon. He’s thankful that somehow the remnants of the Lucerni have managed to drum up such a credible organization of doogooders and idealists.

He and Mae can’t rely on the Inquisitor’s laurels, not while things are so hectic in the south.

Any help is welcome.

But…well, you’re all familiar with the strangeness of seeing your teacher at the market, aren’t you?

It’s as though they shouldn’t exist outside of the academic prison that is school? You’re free of the tyranny and classwork. Why are they invading the place where you check the ripeness of your avocados?

Turns out that feeling doesn’t just fade some 20 odd years later.

“Dorian, that new group Rook is forming is here,” says Mae with perfect innocence. As if she doesn’t know.

“Oh?” Dorian, who hangs on Mae’s every word but would never tell her so, pretends to nonchalantly help himself to some of her excellent wine.

“Yes, if you’re determined to risk everything by hanging out at headquarters you might as well come say hello.”

So he does.

And his mind fizzles a little as Rook traipses in with Emmrich Volkarin trailing in behind them.

He has to fight the urge to straighten his robes and check if he has the correct books for class. He nearly tosses his glass of wine into the nearest plant pot.

Luckily, he was raised with more iron clad manners than that.

He shakes the Professor’s hand and greets him warmly. Volkarin beams (how does he look even better now?) as if there was no where else he’d rather be than here, fighting off cultists in Tevinter.

And that’s how Dorian knows that this time…

…the world really is ending.

[rhadamanthes]

PR nightmare. Eren x reader

warnings: rockstar!eren, reader has curly hair, reader has a child, use of y/n, mommy kink, lactation, cheating, handjob, nipple play, cowgirl, fingering, eren is a crybaby, eren is whipped, jealousy, slight age gap (reader is 28 Eren is 23) kind of co dependency but not really... only on Eren side unhealthy relationships I guess ? lol.

author's note : I never had a child nor I plan to so there may have some inaccuracy about the way reader's body is recovering but for the sake of this fiction let's just pretend. part two is now up !!

word count : 8,6k

It's your first day at work since you gave birth to your babygirl. You are anxious about seeing your colleagues again. What if they think you should lose some baby fat ? look too tired ? Are too eager to leave your family to be here ? All of these questions make your stomach churn.

But most of all you are anxious about seeing him again. You're Eren Yeager's manager. The famous rockstar could have any of the best agents in the world, yet he decided to stick with you since his early days. You are glad he does, as he is now your main source of income. After an extended period of time without seeing you he always gives you the cold shoulder just like a cat.

Eren has sent flowers to congratulate you but you haven't seen him in person for four month now. Stepping in the skyscraper you swipe your badge on the portico making your way to the elevators. The agency you work for has rented two floors: the 13th as a photo studio and the 16th as offices with all the managers for the different talents the company englobes.

Today Eren is shooting covers for his upcoming album so 13th floor it is. Nervously pulling at your cuticles, the door opens on the familiar white walls of the studio, the staff is running around, making them look like ants from your point of view, you giggle at the thought, making your way to the spot where the cameras and the background is set. Dark colours as always, Eren's universe is particular but if fit him well.

"Oh my god you're back!" Isabel exclaims, she's part of the junior team. Her hands are wrapped around a box, containing swords, american fists and other weapons. What the hell does Eren have in mind this time?

"Yes it's my first day back" the two of you make small talk before her presence is requested somewhere else.

The scenery he's chosen is stairs leading to a rusty iron throne. You bite your thumb, the reference is easily understandable, you make a mental note to ask the legal team if you could get in any type of trouble for that.

"Ah, y/n what a pleasure to see you again" Daris Zackley, the artistic director shakes your hand with his usual strong grip. As always, conversations with him are one sided, he talks and you try to find a new sound of approval you haven't already used. He fills you in with what happened for the last few months, most of it you already know :keeping in check with a rockstar's every move is indeed an easy task even on your hospital bed.

"Where is Eren ?" you interrupt, you've been there for almost half an hour now and not a single one of his dark locks you've seen.

"Running late as always but I told him 10:00 is my last limit we're packing up if he doesn't show up in 3 minutes" he precises checking his watch.

" I was at hair and make up Genius Zackley" a deep voice reaches your ears. Well at least you know the shoot is not getting canceled. Turning around to face Eren you can't help but smile at his pun. Eren is wearing nothing but a white linen sheet low on his waist, spartan sandals on his feet and hair fully down. The only thing missing is a laurel crown so he can go full Cesar on his throne, suits him well though.

"And who are you ?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. There it is the cat letting his owner know that it's absence was very rude. You roll your eyes at his comment.

"The new intern, now please get in position before your team leaves" It's his turn to roll his eyes now, turning his back on you as he ascends slowly the stairs up his rightful seat. You understand now why he chose such a dark environment, it makes his tan skin and light clothes pop out. You only notice now that there isn't one single of his chest tattoos on display, probably the reason why the makeup took so much time.

A good call as always, Eren knows what makes him look good, what to accentuate on his body and features to make him irresistible, the tight golden bracelets around his biceps and thigh are the proof. Sometimes you wish he's also known how to behave but it would quite make your job inexistant: you've lost count on how many public statements you had to make on his behalf, the number bribes you had to give paparazzis so compromising photos wouldn't air out in the open.

Laying on his throne he tries all different types of positions, keeping his face impassible. When he looks your way you give him a thumbs up and he rolls his eyes, again. His act is starting to get on your nerves, the initial joke was fun but now he is just acting like a petulant child. An extra that you recognize as Mina Carolina, joins Eren on the throne, she's wearing a similar toge, the collar dripping down with fake blood. They are reenacting La Piéta, your fingers come to your temple, massaging them in circular motions. You are going to be really busy for the next few weeks.

_

"What's the plan for lunch" you ask once Eren is changed into casual attire. The photoshoot extended past mid day break, the star of the show not being totally satisfied with how the photos turned out.

"I'm having lunch with Mina you can have lunch with whoever you want." he states not even looking at you while he ruffles in his bag.

"Eren" you snap, your tone makes him look up immediately. "You're having lunch with me Mina will have you whenever during the week. He opens his mouth to no doubt get on your nerves some more but the sharp stare you give him seems to change his mind.

"Fine" he utters, smiling at you for the first time today.

After a silent commute to one of the regular restaurants you enjoy around the office ,you are sitting on a plush bench. Eren is right next to you, With the way he acted toward you this morning you would think he'd put the maximum distance between the two of you, but no, his thigh is flush against yours and he's completely ignoring the menu resting in front of him, instead hovering over yours to choose his dish. Is it a new trick of his or did he really missed you that much ?

"So how is life at three now ? " he asks, face resting on his palm as he looks down at you.

"Pretty much the same i mean plus the diapers, the crying in the middle of the night, the milk and the stroller" Both of you chortle and Eren takes a sip of his water.

"Well you're not exactly selling dreams here you know ?" you nod picking at the bread basket.

"What about you ? New album coming soon ? "You know the answer, you just want to hear him say it.

"Yup, I had sleepless nights too but it's all good, when we get back I'll make you listen to some tracks yeah ? " You nod all smiles and your plates arrive.

Entering the building again you can feel Eren's attitude shifting, he's walking miles in front of you, not looking back a single time. You're not going after him, taking your sweet time going up the stairs as he waits for the elevator. Whatever game he's playing he'll get tired of it first. After all, you are bound to work with him anyway. 

-  

And he does, next morning bursting in your office.

"You didn't even ask to listen to my music, some manager you are" he grumbles, depositing a fuming coffee on your desk with a bagel. 

"I already had my cup you can give this to someone else" you state eyes never leaving your monitor as you catch up on your emails. 

A beat of silence fills the room except for the soft tune of your mechanical keyboard. 

"Are you being serious right now ?" voice of the angry Eren you recognize, but you still don't acknowledge him.

"I have a lot to do, our schedule is pretty packed so please if there is nothing else" you gesture vaguely to the door. 

The sound of his footsteps receding makes you smile, the door slams behind him, through the glass doors you see him storm off god knows where. 

Your office is at the end of a corridor where pictures of Eren and yourself, his gold record adorn the walls, you started in the bullpen like everyone else, but after many successful achievements you moved to your personal office.  

Everytime you walk up this alley it reminds you that you've been with him since his first day even before the two of you joined the agency. Your old apartment used to be filled to the brim with paperwork, cd's and gift the early days fan would send him, sometimes you are nostalgic of theses days, just the two of you, canvassing all the clubs and bars of the city to get a scene, now they pull at your feet, or rater your phone to get him on their stage. 

Currently, different club owners are listing the advantages to get Eren's album release party in their establishment. Not a single one has convinced you yet, they are all pompous and pretentious. Eren has made a name for himself in the music industry, he doesn't have anything else to prove. 

But you wish to find him something simpler, more like him. Plus the last time he was invited to a club he ended up in a fight, you would hate that kind of publicity for his new album, other managers would probably think that all kinds of publicity is good publicity but you are rather protective of him. 

The criticism he receives about his music you couldn't care less, you either like it or you don't. But when it comes to his personality, you hate seeing every random person on the internet giving their two pieces of advice about him, you know him, the real him, so the critics hurt  as if they were directed toward you. 

All of these thoughts swim in your head, twirling the cord of your desk phone, as the man whose name you forgot keeps rambling in your ear. The door of your office files open, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes send daggers to whoever entered without permission, but they soften once you realise it is Eren. 

You gesture to the phone, for him to keep quiet, his long legs close the distance between you two as he falls to his knees, face planting in your lap.  Eren large  shoulders start to shake and soon enough you feel hot tears piercing through the tissue of your dress where his head lay.

Oh, your heart clenches in your chest. Instinctively you start combing his long hair, quickly dismissing the man on the other side of the phone to focus on Eren. 

"Hey, what happened, what's wrong Eren ? Tell me" your voice is soft, similar to the one you use talking to your newborn child. The sobs quietly come to an end , you place your hands on the side of his head to look him in his eyes but he resists. Eren was always very private about his feelings, especially the ones he thinks make him look weak. 

"Did something happen with the others ?" you ask, resuming the combing motion through his dark locks.  His head shakes slightly from left to right. "Then talk to me please. I'm getting worried there."

"I'm sorry" is all he says, it's muffled, faint, inaudible if it wasn't for the silence of the room. You don't even need to ask why he is sorry, you already know. A tiny smile is growing on your face, this time you leave him no choice but to look at you, lifting his head up forcefully. 

"You don't have to apologize about anything, hm ? It's ok Eren" you reassure him as you wipe the trails of tears from under his beautiful emerald eyes with your thumbs. His brows are furrowed, eyes slightly red and lips pursed in a soft pout. He looks good like that, your smile grows slightly again. 

"Why are you laughing?" he sniffled. 

"Would you rather have me crying with you ?" you giggle, deposing a soft kiss on his forehead, standing on your feet, you pulling him up with you. He is towering over you from a good twenty centimeters. "Come here" you lock him in a tight hug, arms around his mid back. His body relaxes into yours and he lets out a long sigh. "I missed you, I don't want you to leave me again" he whispered, squeezing the air out of you. 

You are glad to finally work things out with him, but the way he has you pressed against him makes you painfully aware that you are not fully recovered from your pregnancy. Your breasts  are pressed against his hard chest. "Eren, Eren" you squirm tapping his back. He breaks the contact with a worried expression on his face. 

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, sounding panicked, holding your shoulders in his hands.  "No, no just" you look down at your bust and see two darked stains on the level of your breasts, so much for not wearing a bra today. "Is that blood" he whispers-yells approaching his face from your tits. "No! It's milk, silly" you push his head off, looking down at the mess on the upper part of the dress. From the corner of your eyes you can see him fixing his pants. There is no way he's turned on by that. 

"Eren! Ew! Get out! " You tone, pushing him to the exit as he giggles. "If you need help just call me" he laughs, kissing your cheek. You roll your eyes at his behavior but smile nonetheless. 

You always keep spare clothes in your office, having learned that they always come in handy after too many drinks at late night office parties. As you button up the navy linen shirt, you can't help but feel ashamed about Eren seeing you like that, he took it as a joke of course, there are not a lot of things he takes seriously except for his art. 

Your life will never be the same while he keeps fulfilling his lifelong dream of becoming a rockstar.  Tears pool in your eyes, it's your turn to cry now.

- 

Days after days you slowly fall back into your routine as Eren's manager, accompanying him to events and interviews to make sure he stays in line or reveal too much about his upcoming comeback... But most of the time you are here, at the office, l  upon exiting the elevator a conversation catches your ear. 

"He'll be the face of Y.fragrances that's like such a good deal he can probably get any girl he wants after that" you hear Floch Forester boast to one of his colleagues with a voice as annoying as his face. 

"Did you just say Y. fragrances ? " You inquired, approaching his desk, his Adam apple bobbed up his throat and he nodded "The deal is for Eren ?" another nod. "Scratch that deal immediately" your tone is cold, him and petra ral was the tandem that replaced you during your leave obviously that haven't been doing a good job. 

"What are you talking about ? this is good for him and all of the company" he laughed nervously looking at his colleague for help. 

"If you knew how to do your job properly you would know that Y.fragrances is a branch of Y.pharma owned by Grisha Yeager, that name rings a bell to you ? That's Eren's father which he hasn't spoken to in years. This is just another one of his schemes to get a hold on his son, So scratch that deal right now or Eren will fire you himself."

Floch's face pales as you speak, frozen in place like you just turned him into stone, you quirk an eyebrow and he reaches for his phone at the speed of light. Turning your heels you walk toward your own office. What a shitty way to start the day you grumbles, heels hitting repeatedly the faux wooden floor. 

"That was pretty impressive" a familiar voice you recognize as Eren's trail behind you. "There is no way you didn't know about this, Eren, what are you doing?" you grumble, not taking the time to look at him. "I wanted him gone, the guy is an asshole, but nothing gets past the best agent in the world so you saved his ass"

You roll your eyes stepping in your carpeted floor office.  "This could have been a real mess Eren, it is serious."  you turn around and he is right in front of you, almost stepping on your toes. "Are you mad at me ?" he asks, kissing your cheeks, this is usually how he greets you in the morning.  "No, but next time run it by me first ?" you take the cup of coffee from his hands, drinking the sugary mixture from the cap, he nodded at you, all goofy grin on his face. 

"Anyways we have a busy day today : Zackley got the results of the shoot for your cover Pixis want to see them too so we have to be in the red meeting room in ten, this afternoon you have fittings for the fashion week and we'll also see if we can borrow something for your party" you give him back his cup at the end of your rant. "Sounds good ?" 

"You're the boss" he shrugs, positioning his mouth on the lipstick stain you left in your wake, eyes never leaving yours. What a tease.

It is a rare occurrence that the CEO shows up to validate any visuals so when Pixis enter the room, everybody goes quiet. 

"Y/N, a delight to have you back among us" his deep voice starts, as he squeezes your hand. You greet him back shyly and Eren laughs next to you. Of course he does, but it's not like you can dap up a sixty something year old man or greet him with the familiarity you do with Eren. 

The meeting goes well, the cover is provoking, the religious imagery he copied, the game of thrones reference but somehow everyone agrees that it fits Eren's persona well. 

"Armin and Mika are in town, cool if I grab lunch with them ? " Eren asks once you are both out of the room. "Sure, just remember we have to be at 2:00 at the showroom." Promising he'll be there on time Eren struts to the elevators. 

When you enter your office again you're met with the deep voice of your partner, Erwin Smith, he's holding your little girl and your heart immediately melts. 

"Surprise." he says, a tired smile adorning his angular features. Rushing to the sofa you depose a million kisses on his lips, patting gently the top of your newborn hair. 

"My babies" you squeal once you're sat next to them. Erwin transfers the baby from his arm to yours and she stirs a little before falling back asleep. Catching up with your lover you almost forget that you are at work, until it is feeding time, naturally you undress your chest when Erwin jolts standing up to close the blinds that are facing the corridor, the sofa is in a blind spot but you appreciate his attention anyway. The milk flows from your breasts to her mouth and you are able to relax. 

Your breasts are significantly heavier with all the milk you're carrying these days so this is a welcomed relief. You lay your head on Erwin's shoulder, feeling yourself getting slowly dragged to sleep. The door opens suddenly, dragging you back to reality, your eyes are wide open. 

"Eren!" you scold, you're a bit reassured that it's only him but still.

"You could have knocked, surely the closed blinds and doors were not enough to let you know she was busy" Erwin states in a sarcastic tone. 

"I didn't know we had visitors" Eren shrugs, sitting on the empty side of the couch flushed next to you. The proximity makes you realise that your breast is out. It takes a bit of manoeuver to swap the baby in her father's arm and button up your shirt all while preserving the little of dignity you have left, but you manage.

"So... what's the name of the baby?" Eren asks, isolating the last word like it's a slur. You snortle looking at him. "Lily, you want to hold her ?" you ask, knowing that he hasn't a paternal bone in his body, if anything he's the one that needs to be held. 

"Hard pass," he grumbled looking elsewhere. "We probably need to leave soon" Crap, you almost forgot about the fitting. You quickly check your watch and indeed you need to leave now or else you'll mess with everyone's schedule.

"Baby, I need to go, but I should be home early tonight" You turn back to Erwin, cradling his face in your hand. 

"Don't worry" he kisses your forehead softly. "Wait, you didn't eat anything, I didn't mean to hog you during your break" he speaks with a concerned face.

Standing up you smooth the material of your pants. "That's fine I'll pick something on the way" You hold your hand out to him so he can stand as well. The warmth of his palm makes you giddy and you turn your attention to Eren. He is still sitting on the couch, arms crossed and an empty stare. "Let's go ?" 

The ride in the elevator to the ground floor is deadly silent, Erwin looks amused, Eren looks ready to slit his own wrist. Parting ways with your family, you kiss Erwin and Lily one last time while Eren calls an uber. The Mercedes class A pulls up to the curb, the door is opened for as you take your seat behind the driver's. Surprisingly Eren is  stacked against you once again, with the way he's been silent for the last couple of minutes you would think that he'd choose the farthest option. Ain't he just full of surprises 

He is sitting sideways, caging you against the window. A slender finger of his picks up your curls and twirls them around, all of his attention is on you as you scroll your social media mindlessly, when the car is set in action you have to remind him to buckle his seatbelt. 

"Has he ever tasted your milk ?" The question makes your eyebrows shoot in surprise. You turn to him "Can we not discuss this now ?" you glance at the driver in the rearview mirror. "Would you prefer to be at the showroom in front of everyone ?" "Actually that's my personal life so I don't owe you anything" Your tone is harsh but you can' t believe he has the audacity to demand this from you. 

The mood has been set for the rest of the day, professional interaction only, he tries the different look the stylist has prepared ,you give your advice and validate them. No banter, no funny pictures like you always do. His gaze lingers on you from time to time and it is enough to make you feel bad as you eat the driest sandwich ever, in an empty corner of the room.There is something about giving him the cold shoulder that always makes you feel guilty. Eren never means ill, not to you at least. So you make the first step to reconciliation with him. 

"Hey, want to share a cab back home ?" you ask, searching for his eyes but he's only looking at his shoes, fixing his leather jacket.  "I don't want to bother you" he simply answered, voice barely above a whisper, your heart sank to your socks. "Eren, I didn't mean to lash out on you earlier" you start, grabbing his hand. "It just wasn't the right time, ok ?"  His emerald orbs meet yours and you swear they're more glassy than usual. "Yeah ok, let's just walk for a bit" you nod and the both of you make your way out of the building.

The first minutes are walked in complete silence. You try to find the right moment to break the ice but you don't know what to say, you don't know how he will react. Ever since you came back you feel like you haven't done a single right thing with Eren, making him cry, making him upset, what if you two are not compatible anymore ? 

"I'm sorry about earlier, I know I may have crossed a boundary, but I don't know how to act when I see you with him, for the longest time it was just us"  A weight is thrown off your shoulder but also his words are sinking in your core ; us ? You and Eren are undoubtedly a duo. It has been ever since he was 18 and you were 23, the age he is now. 

"I know" you say, bumping his biceps with your shoulders, a smile forming on your lips as you reminisce about the last years.

You've met him through Zeke, a college friend of yours. Diploma in hands, him as a literature major, you as a communication major, he had no issues finding a job, you on the other hand should have known that this sector was saturated. Months and months with no proper job offer, or decent one that takes into account your hard years of studying and the salary that goes with it. But beggars can't be choosers, you ended up as a  barmaid to make ends meet.  

As the good friend he is, Zeke reached out to you when his punk little brother (his words not yours) dropped out of school to pursue his dream of being an artist. He needed contacts and someone to tell him wrong from right: everything a eighteen years old boy lacks. Of course you helped him, After all there is a reason you decided to major in this domain.

Selfishly when he started to become a local attraction you wanted to keep him to yourself but the opportunities were soaring for you two, soon enough you were able to quit your job to focus mainly on Eren's career. It is safe to say that you spent the most of the last five years stuck to him. 

"Do you remember my apartment on Salisbury Street ? I was thinking of renting it for the launching party " he chortles looking at you with curious eyes.

"That shoebox ? It can barely fit the whole team. What about guests"

"Never stopped us before " you reply with a knowing smirk, he's looking at you with the same expression.

"I like the idea" comfortable silence stretches between the two of you, as you glide down the streets, sun slowly setting behind the skyscraper. Still you can't shake the need to address one more issue

"He's never tried it" it's an half word confession but you can't bring yourself to spell it out. Regardless, Eren seems to understand perfectly well what you mean. 

"The guy is a pussy, if you were my girlfriend we would be making cheese out of it"

"You're so gross" a laugh bubble up your throat 

"No but really, I want to taste it, think about it, there will be no doubt about who's in charge then"

You glare at him sideway "There never was a doubt about who is in control here" 

"Right you're so bossy. Is it why Erwin is at home with your bald ass baby while you are out earning the keep ?" you push his shoulders at his stupid comments

"Erwin is working from home, Levi helps him around the house, and you are probably jealous of Lily because she rocks the buzzcut better than you do"  Eren had so many hair phases in life, bald, undercut, bleached, colored. These days his hair is long, almost grazing his shoulders blades, all natural color from roots to ends. The reminiscence of his previous hairstyle makes him cringe.

"Wait, did you say Levi ? You're telling me that these two spend their days together taking care of your baby while you are out with me ? Good thing it's the month of June you are one hell of an ally."

"Right, it's not like you have several gay allegations yourself within your friends group. Who was it with again ? Armin, Reiner, Jean" You're about to list some more when his large palm covers your mouth. 

"That's different, I'm famous so that's how I know I actually made it" You roll your eyes not very convinced with his reasoning, but there is this river in Egypt...

Of course you are aware of the rumors surrounding your partner and his... janitor ? friend ? You wouldn't even know how to describe it. Levi has been in Erwin's life long before you and he will be long after. All in all you don't really care that much about it. Erwin is good to you and your daughter. Levin makes your life easier and is caring despite his icy personality. Sometimes you are caught between their longing stares, almost feeling left out.

"Let's call a cab" you offer to conclude this odd day.

_ 

Another day, another task to tend to. The "back to basics" idea for the release party was approved by Pixis and Zachley; you are able to rent your old appartement for the occasion. To you and Eren it used to be a recording studio, hotel, showroom, office and so much more. You want to conserve the vibe it used to hold but also make it more practical with all the transit that there will be that night.  Sitting on the couch of your office you try different layouts on your Ipad when a knock echoes in the room.

"Come in"  You lift your eyes to meet no other than Eren, since when does he knock on the door ? As if he heard your question he clears his throat.  "With yesterday's incident I figured I might pick up good habits"  Well, that is a pleasant surprise, never too late to be a good boy you shrug, refocusing your attention on your screen.

"What are you doing here anyway ? It's a day off for you" No answer comes from his part and you feel the couch dipping next to you, his head resting in the crook of your neck, his body curled up against you, back facing the door. 

" I wanted to see you and Porco is the biggest douchebag ever" You shoulder shakes with a soft laughter, right Eren is not the best at getting along with the fellow artist signed at this agency Porco harbour about the same temper as Eren so you can see how that cause a problem. 

"Tell me more about it" you hum softly caressing his hair. Eren mirrors you, softly tugging at your curls to make them bounce. 

As Eren rambles on, he keeps his head in your neck, lips grazing the tender skin with each word, deep voice reverberating directly against it. Goosebumps are rising all over your skin and you can't say that you know what he is talking about, you are distracted. When his lips press fully against your neck you yank his hair hard, giving him a stern look. 

"Let me taste you"  his green eyes are boring into yours pleading to finally indulge him. Intimacy has always been a good way to unwind for you and with everything coming up you could use the stress relief. If you both want it, what's the harm in that?

"Lock the door and close the blinds" you murmur letting go of his hair but he doesn't move "Unless you changed your mind" Scrambling to stand up he almost trip over his feet with what you only can guess is excitement. His eagerness makes you chuckle, you sit up on the couch, setting the Ipad away. Nothing is going to distract you from this moment. 

Making a quick work of the doors Eren comes back rushing to the sofa, while you unbutton your blouse. "No, no let me do it" he pin your hands to your side, fiddling with the buttons himself instead.  He is kneeling on the plush cushion of the sofa, so close to you. 

"You are practically panting" you remark, teasing his abs through his shirt.

"I'm so excited," he smiles, kissing your lips roughly. 

Once your breasts are out in the open Eren scoop them up in his hands, groaning when they are pressed against each other. "Look at you, so perfect" the smallest droplets of milk spritz out under the pressure. The sight makes Eren moan, as he attaches his lips to your left breast, aspiring the teat into his warm mouth, drawing the precious liquid from your body, the one substance he has been dreaming about for the last few weeks. 

Better than any drugs he's ever tried : his expectations have been met, moaning every second sending vibration through your bust. 

"Does it taste good baby? You like it ?" you taunt, letting your nails rake against his skull. 

"You're a goddess, it's so fucking good" he grunt before resuming his previous acitvity, eyes closed. It's like he is making out with your tit, tongue swirling and lapping at your sensitive nipple.The wet suction sounds fill the room and you stick your thigh together. Feeling yourself getting more aroused by the second. 

You didn't know it would affect you that much, but damn,seeing how a simple body fluid has him acting drives you crazy, you allow small moans of content to escape your lips. Once he has his fill Eren cup your cheeks, giving them a languorous kiss allowing your own taste on your tongue, it's sweeter than you expected. 

"Do you like it mommy ?" If it wasn't for your lust clouded brain you would have cringed at the nickname but right now you couldn't care less, biting your lips as you nod. 

"How about that one ?" you inquire pushing the fabric of your unattended breast. Eren moans, wasting no time to give it the same treatment as the other, he is splayed across your lap, strong arms locked behind your back. You feel his hardness against your thigh. There is no way he can cross the open space like that, so you take matter in your hand, literally. 

You have never seen his cock before so when you fish the hard length from his trousers your mouth falls in an o shape. The boy has reasons to be cocky. Spitting in your hands, you apply slow stroking motion on his penis. He immediately starts to fuck your hand and you smile how greedy can one be ? 

"Let me touch you please, let me make you feel good mommy"  you nod quickly, swallowing your spit, as you do so Eren's fingers have already snaked their way to your wet core. Making a quick work of your panties you feel the tip of his digit tracing circle on your clitoris, mimicking the ones he applies on your nipple. You haven't indulged in sexual intercourse since the birth of your daughter solitary or with Erwin so this feels like an electrochoc, your eyes close shut and a curse slips your lips. 

Your hips buck on their own and your grip on his cock intensifies. Eren and yourself are  both desperate as each other, chasing your high using the other's body. 

"Be a good boy, make me cum please, I'm close Eren" you know this will motivate him to bring you to your edge, and it does, accelerating his movement as he groans in the fat of your breast with muffled whispers of "mommy" mixed with your name. You want him to come at the same time as you so you focus on his tip, swiping your thumb over his slit over and over again.

The room sounds like a mess when you both finally cum. You're panting, Eren is moaning, you can only hope that no one walks past your office right now. His hot semen covers your digits and you lazily bring it to your mouth to have a taste, not as sweet as your milk, but you'll take it, licking clean any remnant on your skin. 

His head is resting on your lap, as he kisses your belly through the buttoned part of your blouse. 

"Was it good for you ?" he murmurs, looking at you through his dark hair. You nod as a smile crosses your face, you push his hair back.  "Yes Eren, thank you"  A proud smile is displayed on his face as he closes his eyes once more, rubbing his face in your covered stomach. 

_

It's Friday evening, and finally the week comes to an end. You have staged the apartment for Eren's upcoming listening party, it is perfect. You curated the place to be a perfect mix of his past and present self, it's more of an intimate gathering than a big launching. It will sure stir up the curiosity of the press and fans so might be good on all sides 

You haven't seen Eren since your... steamy intercourse, he is off until the next week. The aftermath of your act is unsure yet, he left with a spring in his step and a dopey grin. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with you and had a hard time keeping his hands to himself.  You took it as a post orgasm bliss, only wishing that he won't be acting that way toward you in public now that you finally indulged him. 

Getting home to your partner and child that day was jarring, a part of you was excited about keeping such a dirty secret but it also made you feel like shit. You cried that night and Erwin held you close to his chest, soothing you, telling you that everything was going to be ok. There is something about being in his arms that instantly calms you, he is so much bigger than you, and always warm.

 You didn't tell him the reasons behind your tears but he was as supportive as always. You had rocky days during your pregnancy so he's not a stranger to your random outburst of emotion and you are grateful he doesn't judge you for it. 

One thing you don't miss about pregnancy other than the swollen ankles, shitty sleep positions, back pain and nausea, is the alcohol prohibition. You are currently relaxing on your sofa, a nice glass of white wine in your hand while you watch the latest episodes of love island. The doorbell rings and you adjust your silk robe before making your way to the door. It must be the Thai food you ordered. 

You don't have the time to greet the courier that he's already bursting into your apartment. You are ready to scream when you recognize the emerald eyes that have been haunting you for quite some time now.

"What the fuck is wrong with you seriously" you barely can contain the anger in your tone, kicking his calf with your bare feet. 

Eren mumbles  something you can't hear as he takes off his shoes and jacket. He is avoiding eye contact with you at all cost, you recognize this behavior. The same he used when he shaved his hair without telling anyone two days before his first ever  billboard appearance, the same he used when he got caught with his ex again after publicly painting them as a bad person. 

Just what has he done this time? You close your eyes resting all of your weight on the front door. Here goes your peaceful weekend. 

"Eren ? What is going on" you tone is calm, he has a habit of getting defensive when feeling cornered. 

"Nothing, just wanted to see you" you almost believe him but he is fidgety, too much to be normal. You close the distance forcing him to look at you. 

"Speak" 

" I have told Armin and Mika about us" Your whole body freezes at his words, you're speechless, soullessly staring at him. Large hands come to your shoulder shaking  lightly as he calls your name. Freeing yourself from his grasp you walk to the couch slopping on it. His words swim in your head on repeat. His bestfriends know about this, they're far from gossip kind people, but the more  people know the more at risk you are.

"Are you mad at me ?" he's sitting right next to you and you haven't even noticed. 

"You told your friends that I cheated on my partner Eren, sorry if I'm not smiling ear to ear right now" you deadpan, downing your wine glass in two greedy sips. These words seem to have awakened something in him as he whispers his next sentence.

"Shit is Erwin here ?" You shake your head left to right. "He's  at his dad's with Lily and Levi. I'm joining them tomorrow." Right, it's the first time your father in law is meeting your baby girl and here you are with the men you cheated on his son with, way to go. "Why the hell did you do that?" you ask incredulously.

"They've known about how I feel for years, I was so happy the other day it slipped my lips"  

"About how you feel ?" you question, filling your glass again.

"Yeah, I love you" he answers easily, kissing your cheek.  You snortle, once the bottle is empty, setting it on the ground. "No, you don't" 

"Yes I do" he sounds angrier, gripping your shoulders for you to face him "I have been in love with you since I was eighteen and I don't plan on stopping" His revelation makes you all giddy inside but you can't show him.

"It is normal for you to feel attached to me, we spend an awful lot of time together Eren, but it is not love" you explain, petting his cheek tenderly. His brows furrowed and he scouts closer to you. 

"I'm not a child, I know what I feel, I'm in love with you can't you see it ?" 

"Would you be saying this if we didn't have sex the other day ?" you regret your words the moment they echoe in the room. He looks like a kicked puppy and you're the one who gave the blow. 

"I love you because you care about me in a way no one did before, you understand me and I thought i did too." he gets up and before he can move you catch his wrist, he's wearing the watch you have offered him after he won his first award.  He could be wearing any of the expensive watches that were gifted to him by the brands he works with, yet he chose the small discreet one you picked for him. You gulp, guilt sinking slowly but surely in your bones.

"Do you remember when you slipped encouragement notes between the cue cards for that stupid vanity fair video or whatever ? That is one of the reasons  I fell in love with you, not because of the other day" You tug at his wrist so he can face you again. 

"I'm sorry Eren, I didn't mean to say that. It's just a lot for me to take in, can you understand baby ?" The nickname softens him and he hugs you.

-Crisis averted- your manager brain can't help but chant in your head. You shut it down rapidly, as the situation sinks in. Are you in love with Eren ? Probably not if you're asking yourself this question, you need to clear out this situation. 

Pushing his body away from yours you kiss him. A real kiss one where you take the time to taste each part of his mouth, tongue dancing around each other and bodies impossibly closer. The butterflies are here in your stomach but that is not enough for you to determine your feelings. 

"Get on your knees Eren, eat me out" His eyes grow wider but he wastes no time obeying you. 

Parting your knees, Eren yanks you to his face, planting it straight in your pussy, he then starts to rub it  left to right, up and down, the groan he left out sends  vibrations in your whole body.  With the help of his fingers he stretches the skin around your clitoris, exposing completely the bundles of nerves to the cold air of the room. You don't have the time to shiver that his tongue is actively lapping at it. 

Your hips jolt at the contact it almost feels like your first time, you can't even remember the last time you received head.  Grabbing your glass from the table you sip on your wine as a smile spreads across your lips, this what heaven must be like, a pretty boy giving you head while you sip on the gods nectar. 

"Is it good ?" Eren asks, the lower part of his face covered in your arousal, the sight makes you catch your lips between your teeth, you nod pushing his head back towards your core with your feet. He smiles against your pussy. 

The familiar numbness in your legs tells you that you will not last long, but there is something else, something more urgent that comes with no warning. Before you can utter out a word a stream of bodily fluid sprays on Eren's face. Fuck, maybe you had to much wine. Your body shakes and it doesn't stop eren from his assault on your abused clitoris. 

"W-wait please Eren" you beg pulling at his hair, you feel the tears prick up in your eyes with the intensity of your first orgasm. He contests a bit, before resting his head on your thigh nipping at the flesh playfully. 

"I want you to feel good" He doesn't seem bothered by the fact that he is covered with your cum, your pussy clenches greedily but there is nothing to grasp on, you need him right now. 

"I think you prove us that you are very much capable of that " you chuckle, pushing his shoulder with your toes "Come here" you pat the empty spot on the couch next to you. Once he is sat you straddle him, locking his lips with yours. Eren quickly gets rid of his pants and underwear, he's about to pull the string of your robe, when you catch his wrist.

"It's my first time having sex since childbirth" you murmur against his lips, almost shameful. You don't want him to imagine a wild rodeo session that will leave him limping.  "We are going to go slow, you chose the pace ok mommy ?" he reassures you, planting feather light kisses on your lips, here goes the butterflies against. You nod grinding on his erection a few times for good measure then slowly sinking it inside your cunt, inch by inch. 

Once it is fully seated inside of you, you start with slow back and forth grinding motion. Eren's large palms are on your back, accompanying your every move, but never directing you, he is so willing to help it makes you want to ruin him. attaching his plump lip to your nipple he suckles but nothing comes out of it. 

"Fed someone else today, there is nothing for you" you mock, gripping his jaw in your hand as you intensify your hips movement. Eren pout looking up at you. "I want you all to myself" he managed through your grip. His eyes are glassy, you are convinced that you can make him cry out of pleasure if you play your cards right. The thought makes your pussy clench down on him and he winces.  

"You want mommy to yourself baby ?" you ask in a condescending tone, gripping the headrest of the couch to ride him harder still.  He nods furiously. "I want to be yours" you chuckle at that, slipping your fingers in his mouth. "You already are Eren, you belong to me, I control every aspect of your life"  you press your digits hard on his tongue and he moans. "Say it" you command, laying your feet flat on the couch to bounce up and down on his thick cock. 

His words are incomprehensible , your fingers filling his mouth are the reasons, a devilish grin sprouts on your face. "Say it or I will stop" you emphasize your words with a hard slam of your hips down his cock, the tears break free from his pretty eyes, there he is.

"m'yours" he spills hastily, drool covering his digits and your chin. "Good boy" you use the nickname as a reward and his dick twitches inside of you. 

It is priceless to see him like that, you feel your lower belly tangle in a mess of excitation and pride. The sloshing sound of your wet cunt ramming up and down his manhood does nothing to tame you down.  The same feeling of numbness runs through your legs again, you don't want to cum yet but you are not going to be able to hold it in if he keeps looking at you like that. 

"Do you want to fill me up Eren ? Fuck another baby inside of me ?"  you ask, taking out your fingers out his mouth. More tears fall freely from his eyes and he growls, head falling back  on the couch still gawking at you through hooded eyes,

"Please, yes please"  he begs voice deeper than usual, he's such a mess right now, you giggle ready to finish him. Your lips melt on his, as your drool covered hands flies to your pussy, flicking your clit in circular motions.  It is not long until Eren's cum fills you up to your womb, you follow shortly after, body thrashing against him. 

"I love you" is the first thing you hear when you come back to your senses. 

"I love you too Eren" you answer, his dick stirred inside of you. 

If it is true, why does it leave a bad taste in your mouth ? 

[alive-gh0st]

mark x (gn or fem) reader …….with the devoted and eternally loyal dynamic of Odysseus and Penelope

the people of tumblr yearn for homophrosyne fics

OMG???? ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹

whoever you are—you just walked into my inbox, left a myth-soaked gem on my floor, and vanished like a tragic Greek chorus. I’m spiraling. (In a poetic, painfully loyal way.)

This is everything.

Devotion? Eternal longing? The kind of love that doesn’t snap even after wars, gods, decades, and divine meddling???

You’re speaking my language.

First of all—yes. Mark as Odysseus? Makes too much sense. Stubborn, clever, haunted, burdened with power and purpose. And Reader as Penelope? The emotional constant. The tether. The one who never stopped waiting—but also never waited passively.

Homophrosyne.

That soul-deep harmony. That “we suffer separately but survive together” love. Tumblr people have taste ong.

BUT!

One question lingers in the wind like a stray olive leaf—Do we keep this in mythic Greece… or bring it to the present day?

Is Reader weaving love letters instead of tapestries in a lonely city apartment? Is Mark fighting gods or superpowered war criminals?

Do we want armor and laurel crowns—or hoodies and haunted voicemails? Let me ask the people.

Also thank you!𖤓

For knowing the word homophrosyne. For caring about emotional loyalty. For making me want to break out my epic the musical tragedy playlist. I owe you.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌With Love, @alive-gh0st

[intheorangebedroom]

I love how this gif jumped straight from WhatsApp to my inbox.

Explicit yes below the cut.

When you moved in with him, he plucked the Gladiator VHS out of one of your boxes and asked if you still had a VCR. You shrugged and said no, but you love that movie and that VHS has been with you forever and “have you seen Russell Crowe in his Roman uniform???” with an upward curl of your lips that had him raise an eyebrow.

Okay. Russell Crowe. As a Roman general. He knows only too well -and appreciates- your taste for veterans, but he had no idea it extends to the Roman legion.

First, he thought about finding an old VCR and surprise you with it. So you could play that tape and watch the movie together with What’s-his-face commanding his legion or whatever it is that put that spark in your eyes. Show you he’s not the jealous kind.

But then… well then he gets a far better idea.

He takes him a while to find it, and when he does, he has to drive all the way to the city to the rental place, then back home, where he hides the whole thing in an inconspicuous container under the workbench in his toolshed. Not too close to where he keeps the zip ties because then you’ll surely find it.

It's huge, and cumbersome. It comes with so many accessories, the shoes and the cape and a sword and the frigging golden laurel wreath in a wooden box…

Yovanna and Santi are throwing their annual Halloween party, which will provide him with the perfect occasion to wear it. As the day draws closer, and you keep asking him what he’ll go as, it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain a poker face. “I don’t know what you got up your sleeve, Morales, but your Halloween costume better be scary.”

At long last, the 31st is here. He dashes in from work and goes straight to the toolshed. The whole attire is a nightmare to strap on by himself, but after 15 years of his life adjusting tac vests, he manages. 

When he steps into the bedroom, you’re zipping up a dark blue Michael Myers suit. You usually prefer to coordinate your costumes, only this year he decided to play solo, so you had to improvise on your own.

You turn around to the sound of his footsteps on the carpet just in time to watch him walk through the threshold, clad head to toe as a Roman general. 

And oh! he’s a mighty vision. His silhouette looks twice as massive. The chest armor, adorned with two winged chimeras, emphasizes his impossible breadth. His shoulders fill up the entire door frame. A white cape, embroidered with threads of gold, is flowing behind him, and on his plush lips, a devastatingly smug smile, and you forget how to breathe. Your ribcage caves in on a breathless gasp. Your eyes grow wide and your mouth falls open.

It's not... It's not the grime and crimson of battle. It's the white and gold of triumph. It’s as though all the light in the room emanates from him. Like he is made of it. Made of gold. And his hair, oh his hair, underneath that golden crown, curls in every direction, like that bust of Agrippa you once fell in love with in the Louvre.

He is magnificent.

And that son of a bitch knows it.

“You son of a bitch…” you whisper.

His grin stretches, revealing his dimple. And he fucking chuckles.

You briefly consider texting Yovanna to cancel. Bail out on your favourite evening of the year, but then you think different. You're going to go to that party and walk into their house with that man of pure golden light on your arm. Parade him all night. And then, you’re going to go home with him and ride him into next year.

When you get there, you are rewarded by the attendees' collective gasp upon his entrance. You’re probably hovering 10 centimeters above the floor with sheer pride. Yovanna shoots you a “good for you, girl!” look you have no trouble interpreting.

You spend the entire party watching him with a coveting gaze, hiding behind your mask. You might die, from want and anticipation and also dehydration with how hot and sweaty you get, with the size of his arms, and his naked legs on display, thick and solid and strong in just the right proportions. He looks so good it's obscene, and from across the room, he makes sure you're looking at him. That grin hasn't left his gorgeous face. You know he can see through your mask, through your thoughts, through your need.

On the drive home, both of you are silent. There's too much tension, it's crackling and sizzling like butter on a pan, and you zip your combination down to your waist to free the upper half of your body from the dense cotton material. With a side glance, you catch the working of his pebbled throat, confirming he’s registered how snugly your black tank top hugs your breasts. 

You are wet all over. Saliva pools into your mouth at the sight of his freckled skin, the rippling muscles of his exposed forearms and his thick fingers curled around the wheel.

You don’t even make it to the bedroom.

As soon as you get home, you step in front of him and brace both hands on his massive chest. The rigid armor feels so real, and you are reminded, once more, of the fabric of him. Of what his life has been. Of what he's done and seen. The battles he’s fought, the wounds he survived. And the way he chose love to redeem all his sins.

A warrior. A lover. Your man.

Quietly, you undress with trembling hands under his trained gaze. The dark pool of his eyes glimmers in the semi-darkness, in the feeble glow from the table lamp that catches at each and every golden detail of his uniform.

With a light touch, you back him up into the armchair. When he sits down in it, it looks like Caesar's throne. 

And then, you kneel before him, on the rough carpet, between his spread legs, hands splayed around his calves, skimming up to rest over his thighs. Feverish palms to feverish skin.

His tongue peeks slowly between his parted mouth to lick at his plush bottom lip, and you clench, sticky slick leaking down into your ruined underwear as you bunch the white toga in your fists and push it back.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice a quiet rasp.

“Yea,” he husks, bucking his hips forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his large hand a loose curl around your jaw as he guides your face closer to what has you begging.

Brushing your cheek against his thigh, you nuzzle the bulge of his boxer briefs, and the heady scent of his sex makes you dizzy. He’s hard when you pull him out, hard and warm and throbbing in the palm of your hand, and his heavy breathing fills your ears. Pursing your lips around the fat tip of him, you taste his want. The tangy flavour travels down to your core and you squirm wantonly at his feet, eyes fluttering shut at the heavy glide of his cock over your tongue. 

Carding his fingers through your hair, his hand wrapped on your nape, he draws you in gently, down to his base, inch by inch, and you focus on what he’s giving you, on the impossible size of him, eyes flickering open to lock onto his, as he watches you take him in. Your fingers burrow into the thick of his thighs, nails digging in, and he thumbs away a stray tear from the round of your cheek as you keep him there, pulsating hot and heavy inside your throat until you can’t breathe. 

When you pull away, heaving chest and teary eyes, with a thread of saliva bowing down from your mouth to his cock, he bends forward in a creak of leather, to grab at your waist and motion you up. You moan in complaint, please Frankie please, jolting at the cold touch of his golden cuff on your skin.

“Shhh, c’mere,” he husks.

You stand up ruefully but docilely between his legs, and you might be crying, looking down at him, because it rips through your chest, it tears your bleeding heart apart, the timeless beauty of him. The reassuring breadth of his solid frame, the fathomless depth of his dark eyes, the pensive crease in his brow. His perfect features framed underneath the wreath of laurel. The softness of his touch, the restraint on his strength, when he slides your panties down carefully.

You cup his face between your hands to make sure this man is real, scraping your nails through the scruff of his beard, thumbs resting over the bare patches of his sharp jaw. 

He runs a thick digit through your soaking folds and your whole body shivers, knees buckling, you’d crumple on the floor if it wasn’t for his firm hold on your hip. 

“So? Do you like the costume?” he asks softly, teasing your entrance with his middle finger, and you laugh through your tears. 

His grin falls as he leans forward with a frown, rustling fabric and creaking leather, to press his forehead into your belly, chin pushing at the apex of your thighs, tongue darting to lick a broad stripe across your folds. His primal grunt vibrates along your spine and down your limbs, so fucking sweet, baby. 

The sharp edges of his golden crown bite into your palm when you thread your fingers through his curls. 

“C’mere,” he beckons, drawing you in, “come sit on it.”

His large hand skims down along your smooth skin and curls at the back of your leg, sitting you in a straddle over his lap. The armchair is large, but he’s larger yet, and even more so with the cape and the chest plate and the leather pteruge, and it’s a fumble to find a good position. 

He scoots forward over the seat but your knees knock uncomfortably into the armrest, and he huffs in frustration. You tilt up his face and realise you haven’t even kissed him yet, too caught up in his glorious beauty. 

“Francisco,” you breathe out, and he stills. 

You lower your mouth to his, tongue gliding over the soft cushion of his lips, and he opens up, kissing you back full and deep, your tongues entwined and swirling languidly. His hands find the plump of your cheeks, spreading you for him.

When he breaks the kiss, it's with a rushed grumble of “let me take this fucking thing off,” but you're already sinking down onto his length with a pained moan, furrowed brow and eyes clenched shut at the blinding stretch, fluttering walls and quivering chest.

You settle there, the coarse hair at his base grazing your swollen clit, his warm shuddering breath fanning your face. You feel him throb at the center of you, and you cling on to him, to his cape, forehead to forehead, the cool surface of his armor pressed to your peaked breasts.

“Keep it on, Frankie, please. I want to know what it feels like to fuck a god.”

—

HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY, MY LOVE 🧡

[umadosedepascal]

MEET ME AT THE SET | Pedro Pascal X f!reader | one shot

Written by Santa Trindade

Banner by @missyorkswhore

Made in Brazil

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro is THE GENERAL, babe!

wc: 1.3k

rating/warnings: [oral sex m receiving] [cum in mouth] [light fingering] [Overstimulation]

a/n: @missyorkswhore wrote her first solo fic by herself! Kudos to her!!! That’s what a horny gal does staring at new stills of Pedro in Gladiator II

The shootings has been intense, Pedro tells you by messages how busy and exhausting it is, they start recording as soon as the first rays of Sun appear and only at night he returns to the hotel.

This has been your relationship, messages, backstage pics and some calls during the night.

You miss him.

"I miss you, I hope you're having fun, General."

You send him a message, hours later his phone vibrates, it's already dawn, you pick up your phone, your eyes burning with the brightness of the screen.

"Hey, I miss you too. God, I'm exhausted and happy, I have good news! It's the last week of shooting, come here, we can enjoy a few days together. Are you coming?"

You smile and type a huge YES. You talk for a few minutes and Pedro sends your flight info and hotel to your email.

Three days later you are on your way to the set, Pedro couldn't pick you up at the airport, but arrange a car to take you immediately to the set.

You enter through the back of the set, producers and employees everywhere, and in the background you can see the huge arena they created, you feel as if you were in two eras, on your left ancient Rome, on your right the current world full of cameras, phones ringing and people walking back and forth.

You walk between the trailers, looking at the doors that indicate where each actor is, a few more steps and your eyes meet the sign "Pedro Pascal -Marcus Acacius" you knock on the door but your jaw drops as soon as the door is opened. Pedro has one hand on the door and the other on his hip. He is incredibly beautiful, a white outfit with golden details, the golden drawings highlighting the middle of the white armor. Your eyes go up to Pedro's face, he wears a golden laurel crown.

-Wow... sorry, I thought it was Pedro's dressing room...

Pedro laughs and pulls you by the hand

-No love, Pedro is unavailable at the moment, only General Acacius now.

He kisses you and you feel his taste, the taste you were searching for. His right hand goes to your waist pulling you against his body, his left hand on the back of your neck, lightly pulling your hair making your head tilt back.

-God, I missed that so much.

He murmurs as he runs his lips down your neck leaving soft bites that make you shiver and moan softly.

You push him until Pedro falls sitting in the armchair behind him, he smiles as he watches you kneel slowly at him.

-I heard that in ancient Rome after battles men went for a bath place, is this the name?

And they were very well taken care of... and you're so exhausted, aren't you general?

Pedro laughs softly and caresses his cheek with his fingers going down the sensitive skin of your neck, he nods and whispers

-Yes, so exhausted.

You run your hands down his legs, the skin hot, the muscles getting tense under the palms of your hand. You don't stop looking at him, seeing how his lips become half open, his eyes getting darker and darker.

You raise your hands until the tips of your fingers meet his underwear, feeling the heat of his cock.

You pull his underwear down, taking them off by the legs and throw them on the floor.

Pedro looks hypnotized, he smiles and you go up the fabric of his clothes until his cock is fully exposed, the wet pink tip, the lateral vein pulsating while he whispers.

-Is that what you want?

He smiles debauchedly.

You nod your head, your right hand holding by the base feeling it pulsating, Pedro's eyes close quickly. His breathing changes when you lick the drop that accumulates at the tip, his thumb goes up to your lips spreading the liquid, you suck his finger, biting and making Pedro gasp his hand going straight to your hair.

-Don't play with me like that or-

Before he can complete the sentence you put his cock in your mouth, as much as you can, his bittersweet taste on your tongue, the lateral vein pulsating, the unique smell of his skin invading your nostrils.

Pedro moans and you look at him and can't hold back the moan with what you see. Pedro with his eyes almost closed, his mouth open, his breath starting to get panting and the damn laurel wreath. He looks like a fucking Greek God.

You swallow it all feeling it hit your throat. Pedro lets his head fall back and a hoarse moan comes out of his throat, his hand grabs your hair firmly, conducting as he wants, how hard he wants to fuck his mouth.

You continue the up and down movements, swirling your tongue at the tip, you can't look away, his vision with the white armor.

Pedro takes his left hand to your head, both hands guiding you, making you take him so deeply.

He bites his lip, you know he wants to moan and curse, but now it takes a little silence, only small hoarse moans escape his lips, his eyes wandering between his mouth and his eyes.

-If it continues like this I'll cum in your mouth...fuck! - he moans loudly when he feels you masturbate him while your tongue passes through the tip provoking him, you whisper

-Is that what you want, general? - you gently run your tongue over the tip of his cock, provoking the sensitive skin that makes his legs tense.

Pedro growls and pushes his head making your mouth swallow his whole cock.

-Damn, yes...don't stop, please.

Pedro's right hand finds yours on the inner of his thigh, his fingers intertwining yours, while the left hand holds your hair, preventing the strands from hindering his vision of you sucking it.

You suck for a few more seconds until you feel Pedro squeezing your hand hard, his legs shaking, moans escaping from his lips, so low that they seem growling. You swallow every drop, licking until Pedro has spasms and pulls you to his lap.

He sticks his forehead to yours, panting, he kisses your lips pulling between his teeth and smiles.

-I missed you so much.

Pedro unbuttons your pants, his fingers dipping inside your panties and feeling how wet you are.

-Shit, I need to feel you on my tongue now.

He says while biting and licking your neck.

A knock on the door catches your attention, someone says that Pedro's scene is the next one to be shoot. He throws his head back, frustrated and you laugh.

-All right, go soon General... I'll be at the hotel waiting for you.

Pedro kisses you, his middle finger dives into your pussy and he takes it to his lips, sucking while moaning as if he were tasting the best dessert in the world.

-Now I can go...wait for me at the hotel, I'll be there in a few hours.

He kisses you, fixes the clothes wearing the underwear again. He looks at you and smiles, he hugs you and kisses your forehead and then your lips.

-I really missed you.

He turns around, puts on his sunglasses and opens the trailer door, and leaves.

You can't wait for the day to end.

——————————-

Thanks for being here and read our delusional fics, likes are appreciate, comments even more. If you want to ask anything, blast it!

[hotvintagepoll]

Trying to get more into old movies because of this blog (I only know about half of these people and feel like a poser) do you have good recommendations on where to start or is it just a situation where you watch stuff and find what you like as you go?

you are not a poser <3 i myself am just here for the hotties.

here is my quick and dirty list of fun films to start with if you're new to old movies. and of course if you like one of these, do try to find more stuff as you go! there's no bad way to try out old movies.

(this list is not official and is SUPER quick. i'm tagging for content warnings where I can, but if I forgot something let me know.)

"I want to watch something SILLY!"

The Court Jester (Danny Kaye, Angela Lansbury, Glynis Johns, Basil Rathbone)—everyone in this movie is hot. everyone is in fancy medieval dress, which makes them hotter. everyone here is very silly. You can stream this on Hoopla, last time i checked, so you might be able to stream it through your library!

Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang (Dick Van Dyke, Sally Ann Howes, Lionel Jeffries, Gert Frobe)—some people hate this movie and to them I say What Is Wrong With You. dick van dyke is a hot absent minded inventor who lives in a windmill with his two adorable children, his gorgeous sheepdog, and a grandfather who is categorically useless. it feels like the two films mary poppins (1964) and willy wonka (1971) had a baby and that baby was born on roller skates singing an old broadway showtune. this one has been showing up in some odd places lately—I think you can catch it on Tubi or Hoopla? It's definitely around.

Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (Jane Powell, Julie Newmar, Howard Keel, Russ Tamblyn)—my problematic fave. everytime i watch this i change my mind whether it's a sexist pile of garbage or a feminist paean, and fellas, today we're on the feminist paean bandwagon!! jane powell's millie is truly the star of the movie, she is the hero she drives the plot the narrative is on her side, and besides all that there are seven very hot men dancing next to her and six beautiful ladies making me bisexual. (on Tubi last I checked.)

The Duke Is Tops (Lena Horne, Laurence Criner)—I get a huge kick out of watching Laurence Criner and Ralph Cooper swindle everybody while also trying to put on a show; there's just something silly and sincere here, plus you get a ~musical extravaganza~ at the end when all is right as rain again. Free on YouTube I think?

"I want to watch something DRAMATIC that may make me FEEL SOMETHING."

Witness for the Prosecution (Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Elsa Lanchester)—I love a campy twisty turny mystery, don't you? :) I'm not going to talk about this one much because it's better to go in blind, but if you like Agatha Christie stories you'll probably like this.

To Be Or Not To Be (Carole Lombard, Jack Benny)—always relevant, always makes me laugh, also makes me cry. this takes place in poland during wwii so big tw for nazi imagery and mentions. (don't worry. this movie fucking hates nazis.)

Seven Samurai (Toshiro Mifune)—this one is Great Cinema™™™™™™™™™™™ for a goddamned reason

"I want to watch some stuff with the scrungles in it!"

Mr. Washington Goes to Town (Mantan Moreland)—I've been checking out more of Mantan Moreland's stuff because every time I see him in something I think he's delightful, and I really enjoyed this silly-spooky comedy. Does this story have a brain cell? No. Are the special effects and goofy slapstick fun? Yes. This is a fun example of an all-Black cast in a film that was made for Black audiences, and is a striking counterpoint to the stereotypical representation Black actors were given in white-targeted films, showing the enormous amount of talent and artistry the racist studios missed out on by excluding these actors. This is not A Great Film™ but it's still A Fun Time,™ with a goofy Laurel and Hardy type vibe. (It's free on Youtube.)

The Red Shoes (Robert Helpmann, Leonide Massine, Marius Goring)—hey kid, you wanna watch something fucked up? This movie is so fucked up. It's about ballet, it's about art, it's about technicolor, it's about dance and toxic relationships and making theatre and nightmares and ambition and death. A lot of these recs tend on the silly side (because I tend on the silly side) but this one is actually Serious Film and will definitely help you chat up Martin Scorsese should you ever meet him. Big content warning if you can't handle dark themes right now—this movie's pretty dark, not in the gore way but in the Haunting Creepy Image way. (it's also free on Tubi and Kanopy most of the time.)

The Invisible Man (Claude Rains)—my favorite of the vintage horror flicks and a great introduction to Most Dunked On Hot Vintage Man of All Time, Claude Rains. (it helps that you barely ever see him!) Very very silly but the special effects are just plain fun. (I think this is on Internet Archive in full?)

"Can I just get more hot people please?"

Flower Drum Song (James Shigeta, Nancy Kwan, Miyoshi Umeki, Jack Soo)—there are so many unbelievably hot people in this movie which is somehow very good (thanks to its cast) and also incredibly, horrifically bad (thanks to its white team of writers, directors, and producers). on the one hand, it's a mostly Asian cast in a big budget, beautifully designed MGM style musical! there's dream sequences, lots of fun dancing, crooning Rogers & Hammerstein cabaret moments, and just charm galore. it is also freighted with so. many orientalist assumptions and stereotypes, absolutely ridiculous shit that the writers ABSOLUTELY should have known better about in the 60s and nonetheless carried into this. this is a hard one to recommend because I loved this cast, and I loved seeing them in a context beyond the usual stereotypical bit parts so many of them frequently were limited to—yet the movie itself perpetuates so many stereotypes on its own it can be a hard one to watch, and I totally understand if it does not work for most people. tl;dr watch for Shigeta, Kwan, Umeki, and the others, but content warnings galore for one (really bad) case of yellowface casting, orientalist tropes, extremely stereotypical character types, etc. (On Tubi/Kanopy last I checked.)

Charade (Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, James Coburn)—this movie feels like a Hitchcock movie except I had a ton of fun watching it, which I can't always say for a Hitch film. (I told you my taste was bad.) This one is free on YouTube and thank god because Audrey wears a lot of Givenchy, Cary Grant wears spectacles and keeps almost dying, it's very exciting and thrilling and funny and sexy. I don't think there are any content warnings but it's been a minute since I watched it. (I should go watch it right now.)

The Big Sleep (Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall)—they're so hot askjdljhjghladkghjksahkhgslkahgshskjhgsalhgsahgjh. i like this one a lot :)

[this is NOT A FULL LIST of all the hot vintage movies to start with but it might give you some starting places! i banged this out as quick as I could at 2 am, so apologies that it's sloppy and not perfect.]

[riptunezune]

Headcanons of how Cabins decorating a Sleepy Hypnos child's hair

Personally I believe that each Hypnos child has soft curly hair which makes it easy for other campers from other Cabins to decorate their hair out of boredom and it slowly becomes a competition between the cabins on which cabin does it the most and which style is their favorite, etc. and here's how each cabin can tell ~this was inspired by some IG reels and a post by @/clovis-enthusiast

**Side Note: I would say some staff of CHB join in to represent some gods to avoid any potential conflicts**

Cabin 1 -Zeus: gold metallic lighting bolts

Cabin 2- Hera: peacock feathers (I like to think Argus decided to represent her cabin and protect Hera's honor in a way)

Cabin 3- Poseidon: little orange starfishes (like the ones in the Aquamarine movie-2006) and seashells

Cabin 4- Demeter: wheat and flowers (they negotiated with the Aphrodite Cabin on which flowers- the ones that represent/symbolizes any type of love or have heart shapes-i.e. heart shaped forget me not flowers are only for the cabin 10 and ofc both cabins have a list of which type their cabins can use)

Cabin 5- Ares: plastic sword toothpicks and mini metal spike balls (which the cabin later had to change them to those spiky porcupine balls for safety because Chiron said so)

Cabin 6- Athena: owl feathers, olive branch crown, maybe ripped up papers with favorite quotes from books

Cabin 7- Apollo: guitar string flowers, ripped up papers with poems/ music lyrics, music note paper clips

Cabin 8- Artemis: silver little stars (they only participate when they visit CHB)

Cabin 9- Hephaestus: nuts and bolts, flowers made out of wires

Cabin 10- Aphrodite: butterfly/flower hair clips, bow hair clips, hearts, and flowers and honestly anything that the cabin sees that's fit and pretty (the cabin was also asked to tone it down just so to keep it fun for all cabins and ofc it's no surprise that this cabin goes all out)

Cabin 11- Hermes: wind-up chatter teeth toys or those fake insects

Cabin 12- Dionysus: grapevine floral crown with little grapes

Cabin 13- Hades: tiny skeleton heads

Cabin 14-Iris: little rainbow hair clips or anything rainbow related

Cabin 15- Hypnos: probably leftover pillow feathers if they're awake long enough

Cabin 16- Nemesis: mini balance scales (the Hephaestus cabin def helped make them just to ensure safety)

Cabin 17- Nike: laurel's leaves (Apollo cabin was nice to give this one up-also yes I did look up some symbols to represent each god/goddess)

Cabin 18- Hebe: tiny clay cups/mugs of any style

Cabin 19- Tyche: mini four leave clovers/ horseshoes (as she is the goddess of fortune, luck, and prosperity)

Cabin 20- Hecate: battery operated flashlights in shapes of torches

Inspired posts:

https://www.tumblr.com/clovis-enthusiast/761509705120169984/your-mind-is-so-genius

Links for the image ^ (just wanted to show a few examples, but just in case anyone interested)

-https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5gP59FPomV/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

-https://www.instagram.com/reel/C9_ipR0SclU/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

-https://www.instagram.com/p/DA_HzsjSGKY/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

[sleeplessdreamer14]

𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓶𝓮

fandom: Onward (Pixar)

relationship: Barley Lightfoot x GN! Reader

summary: You and Barley are perfect for each other. Now if only you could see that for yourselves.

additional tags: pining, pre-relationship, friends to lovers, unresolved romantic tension, self esteem issues, y’all are massive dorks

a/n: this fandom is seriously lacking in x reader content, we need to step it up. divider provided by @cafekitsune

Barley fell first, you fell harder.

The two of you had been close friends for a few years. He realized his feelings for you around the time he turned eighteen.

He definitely has a music playlist dedicated to you. It was initially made on a whim, but then the discography grew increasingly more affectionate.

You have the same tattoo on your left arm that he does on his right.

Play wrestling is definitely a thing for you guys.

One of his favorite things to do is going for snack runs with you in his van in the evening. Sometimes he’ll take the long way home just to have a few more minutes with you.

He honestly felt honored the first time you fell asleep while he was driving.

Believe you me, Barley is way too good at making you smile and laugh, even when you don’t want to.

Even if you’re super bummed or stressed out, his Medieval Voice works like a charm on you.

Barley feel like a million bucks whenever he gets you to laugh.

But he does know when to get serious.

Like this one time when you were just stuck in a major funk, and despite the small laugh Barley got out of you, it didn’t get rid of the hurt. So he stayed and waited it out with you so at least you weren’t alone.

Having him there did make it easier.

Yes of course Laurel loves you.

She and Ian have listened to Barley talk about you so much that it felt like they already knew you by the time you first came over to meet them.

Frankly, it boggles their minds that you two aren’t going out. (yet)

Trust me, Barley wants to ask you out, so bad, more than anything. He’s thought about it a hundred times by now. But he just… can’t. Not yet.

You potentially turning him down wasn’t even half the reason for his hesitation, no, it was the thought that you’d say yes, but then he’d screw it up somehow.

Barley isn’t afraid of very much, only a handful of things. Those include; anything bad happening to his mom or brother, and letting you down.

Speaking of which, you never stand for anyone talking to/about Barley like that, even before you realized you had a crush on him.

Whether it be with a death glare or some choice words, you would make your displeasure clear.

Officer Bronco is honestly kind of scared of you at this point.

The way you’ve always had his back and treated him with the respect and dignity that most people deny him makes Barley feel like if he really did his best, he could be a good boyfriend to you.

Chances are, you may have to be the one to make the first move.

[darklinaforever]

I doubt that if Tyler had been a girl, Laurel a man and Wednesday a boy ; people would deny the fact that Tyler was groomed by Laurel, or would say that he is a pure villain who does not deserve redemption, should die, or even who would have enjoyed the relationship with Laurel (because yes, this type of disgusting speech exists), and that he would have gaslighted Wednesday in episode 4 just by simply saying that he thought they liked each other, and that Wednesday was sending him signals (canonical facts I remind you for those who are not of great bad faith) and that he is asking too much by demanding sincerity from Wednesday on the subject, namely that she simply tell him if he is more than a friend, if he is even just a friend, or if he is a pawn for her. I don't know if you realize how ridiculous the anti-Tyler narrative is...