#OHHHH MY FUCKING GOD ITS FINALLY DONE!!!!

[last-starry-sky]

girl’s night out - ch. 3 pt. 1

ghost x shy!goth!f!reader

MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 5.7k, nightmares, not at all realistic depictions of panic attacks, terrible coping mechanisms, depression, mentions of the loss of a parent, vague mentions of disordered eating (reader is not doing well in this and the coming chapters! please heed the warnings), brief mentions of kissing and dryhumping, mentions of annoying coworker Brennan, playful mentions of violence (not toward reader).

[masterlist is HERE]

a special thanks to @comeonatmebruh and @originalsoulcollector for their lovely comments on the last part that reminded me that this has been sitting in wip purgatory for over a year! Also, @slut-lmao who wanted to be tagged in "everything I wrote, or they would explode" lmao.

monday

You know it’s a nightmare by the way that it starts. 

It’s the smell that comes first: the must and grime of the million souls that pass through this place everyday. It mutes the anonymous smell of industrial cleaners: powdery and chemical, that surrounds you, sticking to you like an aura. It’s faint. Familiar. Maybe lemon or linen. The more your mind chases it, the more it morphs, and the less you can detect.

You’re staring down at the gray carpet: it’s busy pattern long worn away by feet and rolling suitcases from years upon years of travelers. What those decades of shoes, including your own, couldn’t destroy, the cleaners finished. You can only imagine the gallons of sanitizing chemicals that have been pumped into these floors, scrubbed again and again and again, taking away the germs and daily filth leaving only a hanging miasma of artificial scent that haunts you. 

The cling of it. The way it stirs a complicated mix of emotions the second it hits your brain. It makes you remember the first time you ever saw this place. So excited, gripping your older brother’s wrist as he pulled both you and his suitcase behind him. You remember feeling then that he was so tall, so mature compared to you. In reality, he was just a young, lanky teenager then, having to keep it all together while flying internationally for the first time with his weird little sister in tow.

God, what an embarrassment you must have been back then: long, scraggly hair that your mom had already given up on convincing you to keep out of your eyes, layers of baggy black shirts and pants, the oil on your face (not helped by the long day of travel) smudging your messily applied ring of eyeliner. You’re pretty sure you had your giant headphones looped over neck, long wire snaking down into your pocket where they connected to your iPod, MCR playlist still blaring. 

You’re sure you would cringe if you could see yourself back then, but, in that moment, how you looked was the last thing that mattered. Clutching your brother’s clammy hand, heart racing as you struggled to keep your overstuffed backpack on your shoulder, you were a soup of pre-teen emotions. You were nervous, tired, excited, and so many others that you couldn’t remember. For a moment, you were wonder struck enough by the sights of a new country to drop your usual disinterested and emotionless facade. What you did remembered clearly was everything melting away as you passed through security, your father’s smiling face waiting for you on the other end. 

That’s not how this dream ends, though. You are alone, nothing but the smell of chemicals in an endless, gray tarmac surround you. Rows and rows and rows of waiting areas filled with empty blue-seated chairs and unmanned counters. Large windows faced out into a bright gray void, nothing to see beyond but fog. You walk on and on, along the endless hall, looking out the windows into the featureless void outside. You keep expecting something, but you don’t know why. A person, a monster, something new to break the near insanity of endless repetition, but it never happens. Everything is the same same same same-

Then you hear your name.

Your heart races as you turn in slow motion. You know who it is, because the voice is always the same. Her face is too. You see her, your step-mother, standing at the end of the fog dressed in bright red. Strange, how she can be so far away, but you just know the expression on her face: a tight, forced smile, tears collecting already in the corners of her eyes.

Her mouth starts to move, but there are no words, no sound. Suddenly, the gray starts to press in on you, growing darker and darker. You try to turn and run, a spike of panic striking through you, but your legs turn to jelly, sticking to the carpet. You feel yourself pulled down down down as the fog surrounds you. You reach out, trying to fight, to scream before it suffocates you entirely.

You shake awake, the familiar sound of your phone alarm vibrating and ringing out that annoyingly familiar sound from somewhere in your sheets. Operating purely on instinct, you throw yourself around, fishing it out from where it had worked it’s way to the other side of the bed. Shaking and sweating, light blasting your face, you smash SNOOZE before falling back onto your pillow. With an arm thrown dramatically over your eyes, you try not to think about the howling wind outside or how cold the floor will be this early in the morning. 

Your hand falls off your eyes, landing on the pillow next to you. It releases a familiar scent. You sigh as you inhale, pleasant memories slamming into your brain. It’s him. It’s hard to suppress the shuddering breath you draw in. How could it not be? You spent most of the night crying about it, how you just let the best man you’ll probably every meet just walk out the damn door without so much as a fight. And now you’re lying here, practically swimming in his scent - warm, muted, musky and coppery, oil and fire - all of it haunting you because, of course, you had both forgotten to change the pillow cases. Two nights he had spent in your bed, and he was already worn into the fabric. 

He could be with you right now, you think, rolling over you, cupping your head in those large, rough hands. 

“Have’ta get up,” he’d mumble against your lips, nose nuzzling yours, “Alarm went off.” 

“I know,” you’d whine, arms closing around his neck, stealing as much warmth as you could. Just a few minutes more. Just a few minutes more. 

That’s when he’d roll over you, whispering something under his breath about making coffee, but it’s all forgotten as soon as his hips meet yours. 

“Fuck, love,” he’d groan, softly grinding his erection against your clothed core as you whimper. “You got time f’ this?” he’d ask, hand smoothing down your stomach to pull the waistband of your pj’s. He doesn’t wait for an answer before biting a kiss into your bottom lip. 

The phone in your hand vibrates again: shrill, chiming song ringing out in the dark. For a moment, you lay in the dark, allowing yourself to soak in the utter sadness and stupidity of the moment. The rain patters against your window. The phone in your hand dims, then darkens. You stare at the dark ceiling, blinking tears from your eyes. 

This is so stupid, you think, throwing yourself out of bed, shivering as your feet hit the floor. Eight minutes lost already, and, even in your miserable state, you know you can only afford to lose so much time.

Your apartment doesn’t even feel like it’s your own as you pop your head out of your bedroom. With bleary eyes you look out into the dark living room. Only the yellow streetlights peaking through the crack in the curtain light the room, and even then, it's just a weak, crooked stripe across the floor. It feels weird to see everything neat and clean. Your floors shine, free of your everyday clutter. No clothes are thrown over the backs of chairs, or dishes left on the table. It feels like a hotel, the strangely nostalgic smell of cleaning products that fill the air only make the feeling stronger. 

You shake your head, releasing the empty room’s grip on your still-dazed mind and let your feet carry you to the bathroom. Strangely, as you stand on the icy, bleach clean, tile, staring into the dark mirror, the feeling doesn’t go away. It’s as if these rooms don’t mean anything anymore. This room isn’t in the flat you’ve lived five years in. It’s anonymous. Exchangeable. Your stomach churns as you remember. It’s just like the dream. 

You panic, looking at your hallowed eyes in the mirror. You realize that, if you were to run out to the hallway now, there would be a hundred, no, a thousand, a million doors just like your own lining the hall. Behind everyone you know there would be a couch and kitchen and shoes stacked in the corner, just like yours. You could spent a whole day opening those doors, searching each room in each flat but would never find another soul. 

You’ve gone through this before. It’s okay, you tell yourself, fingers gripping the edge of the sink as you try to focus on the flow of the cold water down the drain. You breathe in a shaking breath, hold it, then let it out. You do it twice more, focusing on the water babbling in the sink before you let your rational self think again. Yes, you have had this dream before, and you know how it ends: running, screaming, never finding anyone until the floor sucks you down. Then, you tell yourself, you’ll wake up. 

You close your eyes again. Two more deep breaths. In and out. You shut off the sink and turn on the light. Small steps. Focus on the small steps. You shed your clothes and step into the shower, flinching as the icy water blasts your body. You soap your skin, scrub your hair, and brush your teeth. You make your mind focus on what is real, the physical parts of the task that ground you in reality. By the time you turn off the shower - just as the water turns warm, go figure - the panic has subsided and you feel a bit more refreshed. 

You quickly glance in the mirror as you leave the shower. Your distorted face in the foggy glass stares back at you: still gaunt, pale, and haunted. Your monstrous reflection makes your heart skip a beat, urging you to scrub the water from your hair and body all the quicker. You abandon your wet towel on the floor as you dart back into your bedroom, naked and shivering in the cold. 

You only have time to do the bare minimum after your shower, which is just great for your already bottom-basement mental health. Maybe it’s for the best, because if you had anymore time to let yourself think you would have seriously considered calling in. It was something you knew you needed, but couldn’t do without throwing the whole office into disarray, and you just couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t. Just the thought of walking in on Tuesday, still not all together, and having to face the side-long looks and whispered gossip from not only your bosses and the rest of the office, but the roaring firestorm that would surely erupt from your best friend, made you willing to put up with anything if only to avoid it. Your midwestern niceness was going to kill you one day, you just knew it. 

You pulled out a random assortment of clothes from your wardrobe and put them on without much thought except for warmth and practicality. Thankfully, the office dress code was also your favorite color: black, so blindly pulling pants and sweaters from hangers and drawers wouldn’t make you look like too much more of a clown. Eyes on your stocking feet, you’re running out the door before you know it: no lunch, no coffee, not even any makeup.

At least you remembered to grab the most important thing before you left: an umbrella. Reaching for it off of the same rack you hung your coat had become something of an involuntary reaction since moving here. So much so, that every time you heard the sound of rain, your hand grasped for the comfort of the familiar, worn wood handle. 

“It had been your father’s favorite, dear,” your step-mother had told you when you tried to return it after finally moving out into your own place. 

Her smile had turned from happy: seeing you out the door after you had popped over to pick up the last few bags of your things from her now empty house; to down turned as you tried to hand the old and worn thing back to her. You could only imagine what memory you had stirred up. Maybe he had once lent it to her, or they had walked together under it during a sudden storm. 

“Keep it, if you’d like,” she said curling her arms around herself, eyes trailing the floor, “I have . . . I have my own, and an extra, and that’s plenty for just me here, you know . . .” 

She couldn’t say it. Alone. She was alone now. Now that your father was dead. 

You both breathed in shaking breaths, hiding your misty eyes from each other before you squeaked a quick, “thank you”, darting away to the waiting taxi. The weight of your cowardly action only added to the still-gathering dark rain cloud that had hung over you since you had first seen her at the airport.  

The airport. The sudden retread of that memory, of that day, made everything slow down, throwing you all at once into the present. You’re outside, clearly. At least you remembered to open your umbrella. With a quick look about, you realize that you’ve unconsciously followed your usual way to work. The fog in your mind clears as you come out of your head. You force yourself to focus: the rain pattering gently against the umbrella above you, the occasional gale of wind shaking the fabric against the metal spires, your boots splashing through the puddles. 

You tried not to rush your way down the sidewalk. You will yourself to slow down, breathe, and take in whatever small beauty the city has to offer, even if most of it is hidden in the weak, cloud covered dawn. Some of the trees still have their leaves and autumn colors, but they’re mostly swept into brown clumps along the street and sidewalk. November was not panning out to be like the brilliant, beautiful fall your mother and brother had sent pictures of from back home. Nothing but rain, rain, rain here. Rain and wind. 

Your eyes land on a fence, tall and beautifully intricate: made of black wrought iron decorated with leaves and swirls, on your walk. The tips of the spikes are mostly bent and damaged now, but they make you wonder what it looked like back when they were first installed. Perhaps the finials were even painted gold. A graveyard, you realize. The beautiful fence that caught your eye separates the land of the living from that of the dead. 

You kick through a large puddle as you look at the Victorian-era gravestones beyond. Some are only plain slabs of shared stone, the few worn words the grieving families could afford now long filled with moss. 

“Abby - Mother” 

“Infant - 1842” 

“Harris Sisters. 14 & 12” 

Others are tall, beautiful white stone, carved with delicate, flourishing designs and topped with sad, soot stained angels or the remains of broken vases. Their graves bear beautifully carved names and poetically written epitaphs, letters rich with cursive swirls and flourishes. Clearly these belonged to the richer parishioners, as they spared no expense on their final resting places. As you pass, you wonder when last any family actually came to leave flowers at these forgotten graves. If there is one thing you can take comfort from the somber scene, it’s that no matter who these people were in life: rich or poor, pious or wicked, scorned or beloved, the same dour plot of land awaited them all. 

“Brief is man's life and small the nook of the earth where he lives,” 

The quote soured your stomach, but made you smile all the same. You kicked at a chunk of loose concrete as you walked by the last bit of the graveyard, willing the tears back from your eyes. It was what your father had chosen for his own tombstone.

Of course he had looked to Marcus Aurelius when his own time drew near; just as he had as a young man squirreled away at some boarding school, bored with studying maths and science, and again when the stress of university made him question his chosen path in life. Did he really want to spend the rest of his life in Law? What of his passion for Philosophy? What about the Arts? Perhaps he found it all worth it, when he did stick it out, finding not only success but a wife and family because of it. 

I wish there would have been more time, you think as traitorous tears slip down your wind-bitten cheeks. More time spent together. Less time wasted. You wish you could have sat longer with him, talked more, found common interests while he was alive as you laughed over a cup of tea. Now all you have is his ghost. His scribbles in the margins of his books in a pile in a corner of your flat.  

Too soon, you are past the quiet streets of your neighborhood. You wipe your tears as you cross the bridge and begin to blend into the small crowds of other early risers, all heading farther toward the city center. Everyone is the same here: quiet, dark blobs dressed in rain boots and slickers, umbrellas obscuring everything but their height. Your boots splash into another puddle as you path around a large group huddled at the bus stop. You look up and down the street quickly before crossing the zebra lines to the next sidewalk. You can feel the damp beginning to sink into your sock as you walk on. Thankfully, you only have a few more blocks to go. 

There is nothing interesting to look at for the last few blocks. Nothing but slim, old buildings, occasionally interrupted by the odd new construction. Nothing to keep your mind off of him. Simon. Nothing but dark and gray. The streetlights shine onto the wet concrete, reminding you of that fateful night not too long ago. The two of you, running giddy through the streets at midnight, not giving a single thought to the cold. The streaks of yellow painting the path ahead make you tighten your hands on your umbrella. You try not to think of his blonde hair, haloed by the streetlamp in the dark, breathing clouds into the chilled air, his large body curled around you, warming you anyway he could. 

He would have walked you to work, you tell yourself, unsure if it’s meant as a hurt or comfort. Still, the spark of a thought has you thinking, mind wandering off the dull reality of wet socks and sunless sky into a warm, happy fantasy. A what if. A what could have been.

You think about him walking along side you, his large, bulky body blocking the street from view. Your umbrella probably wouldn’t be much use, you think, given how much you would be turning to look up at him. How could you not? He doesn’t talk much, but, half the time, you don’t want to. All you want is to steal a glance at his profile, the slip of his face that protrudes out from the curtain of his hood. 

Would he hold your hand? You think on it. Probably not to start, but as you trudge forward, he would most likely start to pull on your arm or shoulder as you get distracted in order to get you to follow his lead. Perhaps after a shiver or two he would relent and pull you close, a muscled arm slung over your shoulder to envelope you with his warmth. You would smile to yourself, his heat bleeding straight into your heart.

He absolutely would have pulled you in for a quick kiss at the door as he dropped you off, though. You knew it. Knew it in your bones. 

“Thanks,” you would say against his lips with a smile, not wanting to lose him or his warmth. It was like you to, even in a day-dream, want for more. He would nod as he pulled upright, unsure what to say.

“See you tonight, right?” is what he decides on. You nod back eagerly, stomach already whipping into an excited frenzy. “Stop by later with something f’ dinner, then,” he’d say, pushing his hands back into his jacket pockets as he backed away. He would smirk as he continued. “S’ on me. Already ate all your food.” 

Then, suddenly, you’re at the office. The bright red door stares back at you with something like shame, with the guilt of being caught. You’ve been keeping her waiting as you lolly-gag and day-dream your way here, taking your sweet time. The dark windows leer down at you like eyes, waiting to be brought to life. You walk up the stairs, struggling to get the keys from your pocket, find which key you need, and then get it in the lock as the cold metal makes your fingers shake. Good god today has been a struggle already, and it’s only barely just begun. 

You push open the door; cold and must your only greeting. It always feels so weird opening up after the weekend. It just feels wrong to leave a building so old and lived in as this cold and shut up for days. You flick on the lights and adjust the heat up to a livable level before throwing your coat on the rack. 

You sit down in at your desk, pleather and old plastic cracking, taking a moment while the phones and computer boot to check your socks. They’re wet, but there’s nothing you can do about it now except huff in annoyance. At least you’ll be inside all day and sitting. By the time your computer lights up, you hear the heat start to rumble through the radiators, and you remember that you haven’t started the coffee yet. Maybe some caffeine will help you. Wake you up, shake you out of this funk and get you focused on the work day. Besides, if what your friend told you on Friday is correct, you’ll all need some serious coffee today. 

The coffee maker is housed in the closet you all call the break room. There’s barely enough space for a fridge, a slice of counter, and a sink so tiny you think a child’s playset would be bigger. On the opposite wall there’s a table smaller than your bedside table with two chairs to either side. At least the old building has charm, and this job pays well, because spending your break curled up at one of those uncomfortable old chairs with no privacy was grating on the best of days. At least that’s how you felt before Brennan was hired. 

You shivered thinking about him as you poured fresh water in the back of the machine. A dusting of unswept coffee grounds fell off the edge and into the water. You couldn’t force yourself to care about them as you pressed the large, red, ON button, and waited for the old machine to rumble to life. 

“Tell me about this Branden, bloke,” you imagine Simon saying as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, getting in your way again as you just tried to make yourself some coffee for the long walk to the office. 

“Brennan,” you’d correct, “He’s just a pest. Annoying,” you’d grumble, but it quickly dissolves into laughing as you turn your head, Simon trying to pepper the side of your face with kisses. “Has been ever since he was hired.”

“What’s he do?” he’d ask, hands running up and down your still-cold hips, “He one of their kids ‘r somethin’?”

“No,” you’d answer with a sigh, wriggling in his grip, “Just a spoiled, rich kid who got a degree from a fancy university so now he thinks he’s better than everyone.”

Simon would snort at that, burying his cold nose in your neck. “Just counin’ the days ‘til promotion, right? Got a few of those crawlin’ up my arse too,”

“Oh, there you are dear,” a soft voice called from behind you, startling you out of your cozy, imagined morning. 

You whipped around with a surprised shake, gasping as your heart raced, only to come face-to-face with one of your bosses: Mr. Harris. The sweet old solicitor gave you a chuckle as he shook some of the rain from his coat, the plush skin crinkling around his eyes and cheeks as he smiled.

“Sorry for that,” he said, motioning his hand, still holding his briefcase, “Didn’t scare you, did I?”

You shook your head, now more embarrassed than spooked. 

“N-no,” you answered, head spinning back to the now full carafe of coffee. “Just . . . tired. Trying to wake up.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him still standing in the doorway as you putzed with your cup, hunting for a clean spoon for the sugar and shit-tasting powdered creamer. He looked around, hovering awkwardly in silence in that way you were used to with older male professionals. He clearly wanted to talk to you, he just didn’t know how to broach the conversation. It almost drove you mad how a man who had built a business with his talent for language could struggle to start a simple conversation, but who were you to really judge?

“Well then,” he said with a sigh, giving up as he looked around the room awkwardly, “I’ll leave you to that then.”

You nodded as he turned away, watching the swirl in your cup dance around and around and around, steam stinging your eyes. 

You could be doing this with him right now.

The dagger in your throat twisted. You were not going to cry at work. You clenched your hands on the counter and willed your tears back, staring into your cup.

“Oh,” you boss called from outside the breakroom. You could hear him smoothing his suit jacket, dusting off any fuzz left over from his coat. “Any calls?”

Don’t cry, you tell yourself. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“No,” you croaked, standing upright but not facing him. You took a sip to calm your nerves, waiting until he’s shuffled away to his office. 

You knew it came off as rude, but you didn’t want him to see you suffering. Especially as awkward as the two of you were. Your relationship was purely professional, but weirdly personal. He had worked with your father before he left for the US all those years ago, before you were even born. They had kept in touch, helping out your father after the divorce and opening his own practice. You had always known of each other, met one another a few times. He was just another one of your dad’s dusty old lawyer friends. Nothing a teenager cared about in the moment. 

That all changed after he died. Suddenly you were alone, in basically a new country and unsure which way was up. Your step-mother, the absolute angel, had let you stay with her, made your immigration as smooth as possible, but your job was entirely Mr. Harris’ doing. He didn’t even interview you, just told you to show up after you had settled after the funeral. Ever since then, you’d been the main receptionist and he had done what he could in subtle ways to show he cared for his old colleague’s daughter. 

You blow a breath out of your nose. It dissipates the steam rising from off your coffee. Besides, you think, it’s not like you wanted to get in the habit of dumping the details of your love life on this poor old man at 6 in the morning. 

By the time you sit back down at your desk, there are three calls waiting for you. While you chug through the never-ending queue that begins to form, the rest of the office shuffles in, the cold air following them every time the door opens. They, thankfully, see how busy you are and don’t try to make conversation as you transfer calls and rearrange meetings. 

You count your lucky stars when the whole day passes without a single comment about your appearance. Even the clients feel the day buzz around them, making their way to your desk quickly before being whisked away by their respective solicitor. You barely notice the day slip by. The sun never comes out, not that you would notice, hunched over your phone, eyes glazed over from staring at your computer. Everyone, including your friend and Brennan, are too busy to even leave their offices for lunch. 

Reality catches up with you when you hear a faint, “good night” over your current call. When the call ends, you look over at the time. It’s well after 5, nearly 6. The two other secretaries walk past you to grab their coats, complaining about the weather until the door shuts behind them. It’s then that you realize how empty the office is. You put the phones on their off-hours park while looking down the hall. 

Mr. Harris is still in his office, but his partner is gone. You shut down your computer and walk over to check on him, ignoring your growling stomach for what feels like the fiftieth time today. He looks up, glasses perched on the end of his nose, when you rap on the door jam. 

“Staying late?” you ask, voice small and shot. 

“Oh . . .” he answers, looking over at the clock on his desk. Then, as if he doesn’t believe it, he looks at his watch. “Oh! That late already, is it?” he says with a laugh. “Get yourself home,” he urges you, “I’ll be a while finishing this. No need to keep you here with me!”

You answer him with a weak smile and a nod, turning back toward your desk. 

You think you must be going actually insane, because as you put on your coat, you look out the window and imagine Simon standing outside waiting for you. You can actually see it: his large, dark form in his coat, with bags from the store looped over both hands. You can see him checking his phone, light washing over his face as he waits for a return text from you. 

The cold burst of air that hits you as you open the door is a harsh reality check. There’s no one waiting for you. Not across the street. Not at the bottom of the stairs. Not leaning against a parked car, staring daggers at anyone foolish enough to hassle him for it. Not that you stop yourself from slipping back into the comfort of your fantasy as you hurry down the emptying street, wind pricking tears from your eyes.

He’d wait to say anything until you flopped against his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around you. 

“Kept you long enough,” he’d lightly chide, kissing the top of your head.

“I know. Sorry,” you’d answer sheepishly, muffled into his coat.

“Not your fault, love,” he’d say gruffly, pulling away to lead you down the street. “Go in there with y’ tomorrow and give y’ fuckin’ boss a piece’f my mind f’ this. Bloody fuckin’ stupid-”

“No!” you’d shout too loud, giggling into your hands as you realized you made a few heads turn. “Simon! Don’t!” 

He’d smirk to hide his own laugh before deftly changing the conversation. “Picked up some food for you,” he’d say, holding up a bag. “I can cook if you’re too tired. Didn’t think you’d be this late-”

“It’s okay,” you’d hum, arm twining around his, head falling to rest against the hard muscle barely softened by the material of his jacket. “I want to. Want to relax with you.” 

Your eyes fall shut for a moment as you let him lead you, trusting him fully to protect you. When they flick open, you look up at him and he’s looking down at you. A bubble of warmth expands in your chest. This is more than you could ever want. All you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Feel like making cookies too,” you’d say with a slow, syrupy smile.

“‘s that right?” he’d answer, deep voice grumbling, dark eyes falling more and more lidded as he stares down at you. It’s like you’re his whole world. “Not gonna bring in any t’ work, are you?”

“No,” you’d giggle back. “All for you. For us.”

Your scenario lasts just long enough for your apartment door to slam shut behind you. The sound of the heavy metal shutting back into place is a double-whammy, gut punch of emotions. It’s the end of your day-dream, a sudden dump back into your reality of wet socks and empty stomach. It’s also a cruel call back to how yesterday ended. The careless way both he and you let the door fall back on itself, not caring who it disturbed, what it broke. 

You bury your face in your hands at the thought of it. A part of you wishes you would just cry already, get it over with. Get that last bit of pathetic pining over him out of you so you could just move on. 

You draw in a shaking breath, letting your hands fall to your sides. You can’t.

You shuffle out of your coat, letting it fall to the ground behind you. The same with your purse and umbrella. You kick off your boots, not watching where they tumble to. Running a hand through your hair, you keep your eyes on the ground as you mindlessly pad across your still-clean wood floors, creaking all the way to your bedroom. 

You throw yourself down into the dark abyss of your messy bed. You lie to yourself, saying you’ll only take a nap and then get up and make something to eat or read or fuck, anything to pretend like you’re a normal human being again. But the pull is too strong, and you are at your weakest. The dark blankets absorb your body heat, making it harder by the second to get up. Before you know it, you’re fast asleep. 

[lecliss]

Just realized Vincent's character can kinda be summed up as "i can fix her" and horrendously failing

[shaadowmilkcookie]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OKAY

pick your shadow milk !?

@shaadowmilkcookie *takes your smilk and admires it

[jayaury]

Marked for Love

Another short story from the archive. Plenty more on you know where! https://www.patreon.com/JayAury

Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

Cynthia Spellman bit her lower lip as she looked in the cracked mirror, her robe hiked up, baring her slim stomach, her lacy panties and, more importantly, the red mark like an elaborate heart tattooed on her mons. Throbbing.

Pulsing.

Beating with an insidious heat that wormed its way through her and to her core.

She groaned aloud. Ohhhh dammit. Dammit dammit dammit! She knew they should have recruited a priest into the party when delving into the Demon’s Dungeon. If only she’d been able to torch that imp to ash before the bitch got off that spell. Because Cynthia knew the curse mark she was looking at. Any mage would.

A breeding rune.

She swore again. An insidious mark, and one with only a 2% chance of landing. Honestly, she hadn’t thought any demons would be stupid enough to cast it. But that imp had looked awfully pleased with herself, right before Cynthia blasted the little harlot back to the pit that spawned her.

But the damage had been done.

And she was stuck with it.

Cynthia chewed on her lip worriedly. What she needed to do was get it dispelled, asap. Because a breeding rune was one of the more sinister magics. It enchanted a woman to desire a man to cum in her by any means. To be filled with seed and quicken with child. Which was bad enough, but the real danger was the longer she held out, the more the curse would change her in order to get what she needed. Corrupting her body and soul until she was just a demonic trollop begging for a good dicking. Not a problem if she got the curse banished. But if she ended up giving in, she’d be locked into whatever state she was in when she finally got that much needed fucking.

And how in the hells was she supposed to explain that?

A knock sounded at the door. “Cynthia? You okay?”

Cynthia squeaked, dropping her skirt hastily. “F-fine Roland!” she called. “Just fine! Just… just making sure this new hood fits! That’s all.”

“Alright. But be careful. We’re not out of this dungeon yet.”

Gods, and didn’t she know it. She felt again a flush. They’d delved pretty deep into the dungeon today, and the way out was quite far. But she felt sure she could manage it. The curse would take time to take effect. Honestly, she could last a few hours without jumping Roland’s bones. Fine bones that they were. Making the knight so big and strong and tanky. Always ready to take a hit for her. Let her do her stuff. So protective and sweet and…

She felt the heat within her stir and grow and she quickly shook her head. Get it together, girl! All she had to do was last a few hours and she could get out of the dungeon and head straight to the nearest temple to get the curse removed. For brief moment she considered telling Roland, but instantly dismissed the idea. The thought of admitting such an embarrassing thing appalled her. She couldn’t tell him she’d done something as silly as getting cursed by some low-level imp. Not to mention he’d ask to see it. Ask if he could do anything for her, because he was such a good man. A kind man. A sweet, lovable, hunk of man who would be such a gentle lover and…

She groaned and slapped her cheeks again. Focus, girl. Focus! Turning on her heel, she marched to the door and opened it abruptly.

Roland waited on the other side, and just the sight of his handsome, worried face almost melted her legs out from under her with a sudden needy heat that shot from her core. Blonde hair curled about his face. A broad build confined by his heavy armour, a large shield and sword sheathed on his back, and an expression of genuine concern, he was what every mage dreamed their tank would be.

“Did you try on the hood?” he asked.

“Hm? Hood? O-oh! Yes. Mhmm. Yes, absolutely. It ah, it didn’t boost my stats quite as much as I’d hoped. Haha!”

“That’s a shame,” he said, his eyes wandering down to her chest. “But uh, why are you leaving your robe a bit open like that?”

Cynthia looked down in surprise, realizing her collar was a bit undone, revealing a hint of her bust. “Oh, yes, that. Just… been feeling a bit hot in here. Thought I might get more air circulating. Cool myself a bit. Not a big deal.”

“If you say so,” Roland said, though she couldn’t help but notice that his eyes lingered on the teasing hint of her breasts. A sensation of amused triumph thrilled through her, but she quickly tamped it down.

“Let’s get going!” she declared, quickly passing him. “Gotta get above ground soon. Can’t delay!”

“Oh, yes. Um, right. Of course,” she heard Roland say, then the reassuring clank of his armour as he followed her. Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief, focusing on the present and what she needed to do. Just keep moving. Just keep going.

And try to ignore how comfortable it felt to put a bit of wiggle into her walk.

#

Gods, why was it so hot!

Cynthia groaned as she sat on a rock, feeling the heat like her clothes were stuffed with burning coals. With every step she’d been feeling the curse mark pulse on her mons, threading more of its feverish warmth through her. Roland had gone to scout ahead for a bit, giving her a blessed opportunity to take a break. Gods, but she just needed a bit of relief. Just a little bit to get further.

She hesitated, reaching for the enchanted bell on the collar of her robe. She knew she shouldn’t adjust her clothes. But if she did nothing, she’d pass out from heatstroke before reaching the surface. And if she did, then Roland would surely check on her. Maybe undress her. Then he’d see that mark and think she was a dumb bimbo and… and…

She grimaced and tightened her lips. Reluctantly, she touched the bell on her collar, gripped it, and willed a bit of relief.

Almost at once the fabric around her chest loosened, stretching and exposing more of her cleavage. She sighed with satisfaction, sagging a bit. Gods, that was so much better! But she still felt warm. Blushing a bit, she willed the sides of her robe to open, creating long slits that left only a strap of cloth covering her mons and ass. Somewhat scandalous, true, but there was no denying it was far more comfortable.

And… dare she say, cute?

She looked down at her chest and a worried frown marred her face. Was it just her, or was she… bigger? She cupped her chest, and had to bite her lip to suppress a sudden moan from escaping her. Oh… oh gosh, that… that felt good. So… so sensitive.

In fact, it was kind of hard to stop.

Stop feeling her big, soft chest. Giving it a bounce. A squeeze. Ohhhh, that felt gooood. She squirmed, legs rubbing together. But… but what would feel even better would be getting a big, studly, strong man to fill his loving hands with her big breasts. A man like…

”Roland,” she breathed.

“C-Cynthia?”

She squeaked, snatching her hands back and looking up in shock to find the knight standing at the end of the tunnel, staring at her in amazement.

“Roland!” Cynthia exclaimed, bounding quickly to her feet, and as she did, she caught his eyes riveting to her chest as her breasts bounced in her top. A feeling of satisfaction filled her, but she dutifully ignored it. “What um, what did you find?” she asked.

Roland seemed to shake himself, blinking as he looked back up at her. “Find? Oh, yes. It seems clear ahead. Looks like the ah, monsters haven’t respawned yet.”

“Wonderful!” Cynthia said, snatching up her staff. “Then we should get going, shouldn’t we?”

“Er, yes. We should. But uh, Cynthia, your clothes. They look…”

“Oh! That,” she giggled, giving a quick twirl. “Do you like it?”

“I um…”

“Just getting a bit of cooler air. So hot down here, right?”

“It is?”

“Absolutely!” she said, smiling encouragingly. “So hot. Gets me all sweaty and warm. Just needed to, you know, get a bit of airflow going. Right? Anyway! No time to waste. Better get back on the move.”

“I… guess,” Roland said uncertainly.

“Exactly! Let’s go,” Cynthia exclaimed, bounding past him, trying to suppress the knowledge of how good it felt to have that strip of cloth swishing between her thighs. The way the silk stroked her panties and slick mound.

But she also noticed the way Roland watched her breasts bounce in her tight top as she went by.

And maybe she enjoyed that gaze a bit more than was proper…

#

Hells but her migraine was just killing her.

Cynthia groaned, rubbing her temples.

“You sure you’re okay?” Roland asked her.

“Fine,” she sighed. “Just fine. Have a little headache, that’s all.”

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

Bend me over this fucking rock and rail me until I’m begging you to stuff me with your fucking stud baby batter!

Through an incredible force of will, Cynthia managed to not scream that out. But she needed some relief. The heat in her was coiling its insidious tentacles all through her, and she needed SOMETHING to take the fucking pressure off.

Her eyes slid back to Roland.

“Actually,” she said slowly, rolling her shoulders with a pained expression. “I’m feeling so… stiff at the moment. And you have those wonderfully talented hands. I was thinking maybe you could give me a quick massage.”

“A massage?” he said uncertainly.

“Yeah,” she said, already warming to the idea. Well, her body was anyway. Just the thought of getting those strong hands on her made the tension coiling in her ease just a bit. “Just a bit. Help me relax.”

“Of course,” the knight said, beaming that lovable smile of his as he took off his gauntlets. Cynthia bit her lip. Gods, just the sight of that goofy smile made her want to cram his head between her thighs and ride his tongue to a dozen screaming orgasms.

But she’d take what she could get. And as he moved around and sat down behind her, she tried not to shiver at the smell of him. That sweet medley of leather and sweat and manliness.

And that was before she felt his hands on her shoulders.

“Ohhhhh,” she groaned, arching.

He paused. “You okay?”

“Better than ever,” she sighed.

“I haven’t even started.”

“Then don’t wait,” she fairly growled. “Get those strong fingers in there.”

“Sorry?”

“Just… please, start.”

She stifled a moan as his fingers began to gently knead her shoulders, soon growing more confident at the familiar motions. Cynthia exhaled heavily, her eyes drifting half-shut as she enjoyed his touch. His wonderful, gentle yet firm touch. Gods, those fingers were incredible. She could actually feel herself start to drift away, even the headache easing.

“Is that good?” Roland asked.

“Wonderful,” she breathed, sinking back against his touch. Oh gods it was so good. “Lower.”

She felt his touch slide over her shoulders. “Like that?”

“Oh yessss,” she groaned, shivering in ecstasy, her toes curling in her shoes. “Just… mnnn… like that. Maybe… maybe a bit lower.”

She felt him hesitate, then obey. She was breathing deeper. Heavier. That was good. That was nice…

“You smell good,” Roland murmured.

A smile stole across her lips at his dreamy voice. “Thank you. Perfume… perfume is new. And lower, Roland.”

“L-lower?”

“Please,” she panted, wriggling.

Again that moment of hesitation. Then his hands slid down. Slid over the gentle curves of her chest.

Oh gods yes.

A soft moan escaped her as she arched, pushing her breasts into his uncertain hands. Hands that began to grow more confident. Slow. Gentle. Pumping and squeezing her breasts in ways that made her whimper and gasp in helpless pleasure.

Oh gods.

Oh gods that was so good.

She could feel the heat that had been torturing her dull to a pleasant throb. Swelling up into her head, filling it with a hazy warmth. Her headache easing into clouds of euphoric pleasure as her hips lazily rocked.

“Just like that,” she breathed, her free hand stealing between her thighs, a jolt of delight racing through her as she touched herself, the silky strip between her legs offering no protection to her hyper-sensitive pussy. “Oh Roland…”

“So soft,” he breathed, his face nearly buried in her luxurious hair, his hands still massaging and adoring her breasts. His warm breath panting against the back of her neck.

Oh gods yes.

“Roland,” she moaned, her finger pressing against her pussy, stroking herself through her dress and panties. Higher. Higher.

“Cynthia,” she heard him gasp behind her, his hands skilled and adoring as they bounced and massaged her soft breasts. She squirmed in delight, hot pants escaping her in rushes, her ass grinding back against him, feeling the bulge in his pants.

“Roland. Roland,” she whimpered, her finger strumming herself harder. Pleasure sparking through her in bursts, the cloudiness in her head concentrating. The pressure throbbing. Feeling so good. So wonderful. So… so…

“Mnnnnnn!” she cried out, quivering as she came, her juices staining her filmy panties and the strip of her robe, her muscles tightening in shameful ecstasy, the pressure in her head releasing in a sudden burst of euphoria that washed her in a wave of bliss.

She sighed happily, leaning back against Roland, who merely moaned softly, still gently massaging her plump teats. A sensation that ached through her wonderfully. Gods but it felt good. Gods it all felt so… so fucking good…

Why hadn’t she done this before?

As that idle thought swam through her mind, she felt another urgent throb from the place above her mons. She lifted her head numbly, and felt a strange weight on her brow. Vaguely, she reached up, touching her forehead.

Feeling a pair of bumps.

Her eyes snapped open in horror. Horns. Oh fuck, she had horns! Her formerly wonderful pleasure vanished like a flash of pink steam.

“Cynthia?”

She looked down in shock at the hands on her breasts and bolted suddenly to her feat, then slapped her palm to her forehead, turning away so Roland couldn’t see her front. “Er, yes! Thank you, Roland. Wonderful job. Very um, good. I’m just gonna go, er, freshen up a bit real quick. Be right back!”

“Wha-”

Before he could object she hurried back around the corridor’s corner and covered her face with her hands. Oh gods. Oh gods, did she really do that? Did she really just get Roland to play with her fat cow tits while she masturbated on his lap?

Yes.

Yes she did.

And it had been amazing.

She felt her blush warm herself anew, even as she berated her response. Gods, the curse’s heat was already back! It was like she hadn’t even gotten a moment of relief from it. But it was fine. It was fine. She could fix this. Just… just get out of the dungeon and find a priest who could dispel the curse. Then she’d be back to normal.

Yes.

Just normal.

So normal she’d never have done anything like that. Let Roland massage her sensitive breasts. Rub her ass against his bulge as she stroked herself to one of the best orgasms she’d ever had.

Totally.

Utterly.

Normal.

Cynthia bit her lip at the thought. She… she did want to be normal again. She was pretty sure of that. No, no. She was absolutely sure of it. Even if it had felt amazing. Even if she’d relished the thrill and the sound of Roland’s voice becoming dim and hazy. As if drunk on her presence. Her beauty. Even if she now had horns which she really needed to cover up. Yes, a hood. That’s what she needed.

And… maybe let the chest out a bit more. All of Roland’s pumping had made her even bustier.

Again she touched the bell on her neck and willed the changes. She sighed in relief as a hood formed from her top, looping over her hair, while an even larger boob window opened in her robe. As she looked herself down, she frowned at a sight below. The strip of fabric between her legs now sported a very apparent stain.

“Gods dammit,” she groaned. Look at that mess. She was NOT wandering through the dungeon with a big stain on the front of her robe. But how to hide it?

A sudden vision entered her mind, and well, it was a bit out of character for her, but why not? She’d be out of the dungeon soon anyway. Another press on the bell folded the strips of cloth between her legs, her robe shrinking even more, hugging her curves in a form-fitting leotard that showed off her every incredible curve. Cynthia smirked and turned this way and that, admiring her bared thighs and curves of her breasts. A perfect hourglass. Gods she was hot. That wasn’t the curse talking. Just… confidence.

Yeah.

Just confidence at being so gorgeous.

Smiling, she turned and went back into the chamber. Roland was still sitting on the rock, bent forward, his head in his hand like he had a headache.

“Ready, Roland?” Cynthia asked.

He looked up, and Cynthia had to bite her lip to keep from smirking at his expression. His jaw positively dropped at the sight of her, the awe in his eyes sending another shot of pure heat into her pussy and tingling through her veins.

“Cynthia,” he gasped. “You…”

“Just needed to let my body breathe a bit more,” Cynthia said coyly, turning this way and that to let him admire her further. “Do you like?”

“You… you look amazing,” he admitted.

Cynthia giggled. “So glad you think so. Now, come on, Roland,” she said, crooking a finger and beckoning. “Let’s get going.”

He rose instantly, and Cynthia felt another thrill at how quickly he obeyed. How his eyes grew dim as he breathed in deeply, as if just the sight and scent of her threatened to drown him in her presence. Arrogant of her to think so, perhaps, but as she turned, leading the way forward, she was hit with the delightful feeling like she was leading a puppy through the black stone halls.

And enjoying every moment of it.

#

The heat was back.

And strong.

So fucking strong.

It had been okay for a bit, but now the coiling warmth of desire was consuming her like an inferno. Cynthia was blushing, feeling her pulse throb and mons ache as if begging her to bathe her womb in the seed of a man. And it really didn’t help having such a handsome, willing man right behind her. Gods, she just wanted to push him down, kiss him, smother him under her fat tits and grind herself to a dozen orgasms before she even got his fucking pants off.

“Look! The exit.”

The words snapped her from her fantasies. Cynthia raised her head and through the blur of her vision she saw the white glow of the way out. The shining end of the tunnel beckoning her on.

Out.

Out of the dungeon.

Excitement surged within her. Bloomed with euphoria. “Yes!” she gasped. “Yes!”

So overcome, she whirled around and wrapped her arms around a startled Roland, leaned forward, and kissed him adoringly on the lips.

She felt him stiffen reflexively, but then he moaned, his eyes lidding, growing hazy as his lips moved against hers, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her tight against him. Cynthia whimpered in delight as she felt her mound press against his front. Grind against his bulge. Her sensitive breasts rubbing against the steel of his chest.

The kiss deepened. Her tongue pushed into his mouth. Her hands slid up his neck and to his head, her fingers running through his hair as his own arms moved over her back as if tracing every inch of her winsome figure.

More.

She needed more.

The compulsion radiated from her mons. From the mark. She pushed him back and Roland hit the cavern wall. She broke the kiss, panting. Hot. Needy.

“We… we shouldn’t,” she breathed, her hands already moving, finding catches and buckles of armour and stripping them away with uncanny precision.

“Y-yeah. Shouldn’t,” Roland said dimly, offering no resistance as his hands continued to stroke her, tracing the curve of her ass, pressing himself against the tight fabric of her leotard.

“Gotta… gotta resist,” Cynthia panted as she tugged his pants down, her fingers grasping his stiffened cock.

“Nnnn,” Roland groaned.

“Can’t give in,” Cynthia breathed as she sank to her knees, Roland’s cock finally in her hand. Before her eyes. Thick. Throbbing. Begging for her attention. The scent stuffing her nose. Her head. Her tongue teased over her lips. Her mouth opened, and she swallowed him deep.

“Ohhhh!” Roland groaned, head falling back, body jolting with a gasp.

“Mmmm,” Cynthia agreed, her lashes fluttering in ecstasy as she began to bob, her tongue swirling over his tip and length. Gods. Gods above, he tasted so good. So thick and powerful and virile. Her free hand slipped beneath him, cradling his balls, and she could fairly feel his seed churn within them. Stirring from her ministrations. Begging for release.

She’d release him.

Gods she would.

She’d suck him dry. Swallow without missing a drop. Gods, what had taken her so long to do this? How could she have kept herself from pushing him down and just fucking choking herself on his fat cock!? Her throat seemed to accommodate his every inch with uncanny ease. Moaning, bobbing, she sucked him deep, going down to the root, her tongue lathing and wrapping around his manhood with utterly shameless need.

“F-fuck!” Roland gasped, his eyes misty. Foggy. His hands groping down to her head. Cynthia bucked as his fingers pushed aside her hood and wrapped around her horns, the sensation throbbing into her like a bolt of lightning. For a brief moment she felt panic, but glancing up at his face showed Roland didn’t even seem to notice. His eyes were fogged, his mouth open, panting in needy gasps as he pumped into her waiting mouth.

Pheromones. A demon’s trait, now hers from the curse.

And he was utterly drunk on them.

She knew she should feel bad about that, but she didn’t care. She wanted him too much. Too badly. She needed his cum. Needed him. The heat from her mound pulsed in a throbbing beat like drums urging her on. Urging her to suck harder. Massage his balls. Tease and pump him until his face was flushed and desperate gasps were escaping him. Until he was feverishly pumping his cock into her mouth, fucking her face until… until…

“F-fuuuuuuck!” Roland cried out, head thrown back, groaning as he came.

And Cynthia was in heaven.

She moaned, her eyes lidding as the hot heaviness of his load pumped into her mouth, eagerly swallowed down into her stomach. She sucked him gently, relishing every spurt, feeling the swirling delight ache through her.

Gods.

Gods, it was… it was so fucking perfect…

And yet, it wasn’t enough.

Cynthia pulled her lips off his cock, her whole body feeling like it was on fire. Her head throbbing. Thoughts swirling with a single need that she had to satisfy. “More,” she gasped.

“C-Cynthia?” Roland panted, looking down at her blankly, his jaw slack.

She knew he’d do anything she wanted him to. She could tell. He wanted her as bad as she wanted him. And she’d have him. She rose, no longer hesitant. No longer caring of consequences or doubt. Her hand rose, rang the bell on her collar.

Every stitch of clothing seemed to burst from her, baring her glorious figure in all its glory, her skin so flushed it seemed red, her breasts so huge and full they seemed to float upon her chest. Her hips were wide and her legs parted, the curse mark blazing proudly on her body.

Roland stared at her, mouth agape. “What…”

“Don’t question,” she commanded, and he fell silent. Another thrill surged through her as she turned around, bent forward, planting her hands against the far wall, her ass thrust out. “Fuck me, Roland,” she growled, glancing over her shoulder. “Fuck me like you’ve wanted to ever since we met. Fuck me. Mate me. Breed my fucking pussy! I need your cock, Roland. I need it in me. Now!”

Roland stared at her, and oh how her curse mark rewarded her for that stare. That look of helpless lust. Of frantic desire. He came towards her, his hands reaching out, grasping the soft swell of her ample hips. She cried out, cooed as the rewarding heat of her curse mark surged through her again, tingling in her tailbone and back.

“That’s it,” she breathed, waving her rear, smirking as she saw his cock rise, hardening once again at the sight of her needy figure. “Fuck me, Roland. Fuck me hard. Mate me like the slut I am. Just a bitch in heat. Needing your cock. Now fuck me. Fuck me!”

“Yes,” Roland gasped, squeezing her soft rump, aligning his cock with the steamy gash of her pussy. “Yes… mistress…”

For a brief moment that word shocked Cynthia. Raised a doubt in her. She opened her mouth to order him back.

Then he pushed forward.

Filled her.

And hesitation was burned away by the fire of pleasure as she got what she so desperately needed.

“Ohhhhh!” Cynthia cried out, arching, tightening deliciously around the thick cock impaling her. Heat bloomed in her, but no longer tortuous. No. Now it surged in her in a euphoric blast. “Yesss!” she cried out. “Fuck me, Roland. Mate me! Fuck me haaaard!”

“Yes,” Roland panted, not hesitating a beat, beginning to thrust, pumping his cock feverishly into her hot pussy. Driving into her with a desperate urgency, every smack of his hips off her ass sending another throb of pure pleasure rocking her to the core. “Yes! Mistress. Fuck mistress. Fuck her!”

“Yes!” Cynthia cried out, uncaring, lost, relishing the feeling of him finally inside her. Finally giving her what she needed! “Yes! Fuck me. Mate me! Breed me, Roland. Breed your mistress! Mistress ah! Mistress needs your c-cum! Give it to her. Give it to me! Fuck me! Fuck me n-nooooooow!”

Pleasure pounded through her. Throbbed behind her eyes. In her back. In her ass. As she wailed her ecstasy, she felt the pressure burst. Felt a dark tail twist from her rear. Black wings sprout from her back.

“Breed your demon mistress noooooow!” Cynthia howled in triumph.

“Nnnnn!” Roland moaned, filling her a final time, his cock sinking deep inside her as he gave in. Cumming in a sudden rush of his hot seed.

The feeling surged into Cynthia. She wailed in pleasure, her orgasm flowing through her after his. Her pussy tightening, quivering, urging the hot gush of his cum into her womb. Feeling it fill her.

Wake her.

Consume her in bliss.

She moaned, her eyes rolling back, her arms shaking as she felt the curse mark burn itself into her skin. Marking her forever. Glowing like a brand.

And she couldn’t have been happier.

With a shaky breath she stepped forward, unsheathing Roland’s cock from her. The knight fell back onto the ground, his strong chest heaving, his eyes staring at her in worship and hazy love.

Cynthia smirked down at him, her hands lazily stroking her figure, her dark wings fluttering, her tail lashing.

Beautiful, she thought to herself. Utterly beautiful.

“Am I lovely, Roland?” she asked.

“So… so lovely,” he gasped, worshipping her with his eyes.

Cynthia giggled, her hands cupping her breasts, stroking them and sending them bouncing, her fingers tracing down onto her hips. “Mmm. And you’ll love me forever, won’t you? Be my obedient stud forever and ever? Pumping me full of children whenever I want?”

“Yes,” Roland panted. “Yes!”

“Adore me?”

“Yes!”

“Worship me?”

“Yes!”

“Do anything for me?”

“Gods yes!”

Cynthia purred, the desperation in his words filling her with intoxicating power. “Good boy,” she cooed, crooking a finger. “Then get up, lover. It’s time for you to get dressed and head out. There’s a whole wide world out there for us, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” Roland breathed, dragging himself to his feet. “Yes, msitress.”

“Good boy,” she laughed, strutting towards the exit of the dungeon, her obedient love slave stumbling after her, still pulling his boots on as he did. Maybe she would visit the temple after all, Cynthia mused. After all, the sisters there would surely love to examine her curse mark. In intimate detail…

[loverofthewindgod]

Shower Show (18 +)

A/N: I thought about Fujin watching me while I shower, and boom came this story. Please enjoy! 😉😉😊😊

You return home from a month-long mission, warmly welcomed back by your beloved Lord Fujin. He's just as excited, if not more, as you are to spend time together, but first you wanna freshen up and take a very well-deserved shower. “Ahhh…this feels so nice…” The hot water felt amazing, washing away the dirt, stress, and bullshit from your skin and hair. As you relaxed, you heard the curtain shuffle behind you and turned around to find Fujin biting his lip and stroking his member while gazing at you in all your wet glory.

“Heh, couldn't help yourself, huh? Don't worry, I'm almost done.”

"Ohh, do not mind me, my love. Take all the time you need, and I'll enjoy this wonderous view."

Don't let his adorable soft gaze fool you. The second you step out of the shower, he will go absolutely feral on you. Pretty sure your body was more heated than the water at that point just thinking about it. As you continue to wash yourself, your mischievous mind decides to take over and tease the man. You rubbed all over your body in such a sultry manner, fondling your own breasts, hands tracing your curves as your hips give a little shake. You glance over your shoulder a bit to see Fujin mesmerized, stroking himself a bit faster as he enjoys the sexy water dance.

"Haa...you're just soo fucking beautiful..."

The desperation in his tone and groans are turning you on more and more. He's absolutely craving you right this moment, but hey, he decided to torture himself by watching. You smirked as you turned back around, bending over to rub your legs. The groan that left Fujin's throat as he saw your massive plump ass just a few inches from his cock, man oh man it drove him insane.

"You're playing a very, very dangerous game, sweetheart..."

“Am I now?”

Indeed you were. You began to rub your pussy, spreading your lips to display your tight, moist entrance with a seductive look in your eye.

“All for you baby…”

Aaaand with that....that right there was the final blow that broke the wind god. Accepting your invitation, he immediately shut off the water, picked you up over his shoulder and plopped you down on the bed. He didn't care how wet the bed was, he was gonna make you even wetter. You sat up on your elbows, taking the sight of Fujin removing all his clothes, his eyes completely filled with lust as he crawled his way towards you.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself, sweetheart. But now it is my turn..."

Fujin swiftly pulled you by the legs towards him, and spread them wide open. Immediately digging his face in your pussy, you yelped very loudly, grasping onto his hair before he took both your hands and placed them at your side, going to town on you. His tongue rapidly penetrates your entrance, slurps up your entire mound like its ice cream and sucks the ever living fuck out of your sensitive clit. It was way too much and before you knew it, your legs trembled ferociously with your sweet delicious nectar exploding all over his face. You were a screaming, squirming mess.

“Ahhh! Nghh! Mmmm! Oh my- oh my g-AHH!! FUUUCK!! OHHHH!”

Fujin chuckled as he wiped his face and laid himself on top of you to whisper in your ear.

"So soon, what a shame. I was just getting started….”

Fujin then stuffed himself inside of you, and the sensation was just blissful.

"Nngh…FUCK!…" Fujin hissed, trying to compose himself.

That might've been the sexiest "Fuck" you've ever heard and it made you tighten around him even more. Without wasting another second, Fujin lifted up your legs and began thrusting like a madman. The slick wet noises echoed throughout the room, and you covered your mouth trying not to scream your lungs out, but Fujin feels way too damn good to not scream. He wanted to hear your sweet voice, to be reminded how good he makes you feel. His pace quickened, and you were just in heaven. You caught a glimpse of him immersed in the sight of his cock going in and out of you, his moans getting louder and louder before he halted himself and flipped you over on your stomach. He took you from behind, his pace now at a dangerous level. Your screams were buried in the pillows, hands and teeth gripping the sheets for dear life as he gripped your hips, enjoying the sight of your ass bouncing from his relentless pounding. You felt your knot break and came again, as did Fujin, screaming his ass off as he blesses your insides with copious amounts of his seed.

The both of you collapsed on the bed. Exhausted but oh so satisfied, panting as your naked, sweaty bodies snuggled together. But before engaging in another round, you needed to refuel. “Can we order takeout, please?” Fujin chuckled in agreement, kissing your cheek, super delighted to have you back.

[mewhenimanangel]

cherry, eren jaeger

—synopsis. mikasa’s eighteenth birthday party leads to you and eren becoming a little something more

—chapter 6 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 content!: au-high school, teen romance, black reader, underaged drinking, oral sex, vaginal fingering, make outs

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you decided you were going to skip practice today to save energy for mikasa's party.

after eren dropped you home on monday, he texted you all the details of the party and mikasa followed you on your socials.

you shamelessly stalked her page for pictures of eren. you never actually knew what their relationship was, you'd heard that mikasa was apparently adopted by eren's parents but you didn't know if that was entirely true.

you had went shopping yesterday for a white feathery boa and gold sling back heels.

currently, you were sitting at your vanity straightening your hair, you decided to bump the ends to try and match the 1920s hair trends. you'd been at it for 2 hours and you were finally almost done.

once you were done with your makeup you got dressed into the dress you'd shown eren and the heels you bought. you wrapped a gold chain headpiece over your head and put gold bangle cuffs on your arm.

you sprayed some perfume before you heard the doorbell ring. you went downstairs to answer it since no one else was home.

you smiled seeing eren waiting on the porch. he wore a white long sleeve button down with a black bow tie, black dress pants and dress shoes.

you noticed his hair was cut, it was still fluffy and long but no longer ponytail long. "ohhhh, new do?" you reached for his hair. he smiled as your nails combed through his hair. "yeah you like it?"

"i do actually, your barber must love you" he laughed before reaching for your arm.

"you look fucking amazing" he traced his hand down the curve of your waist. "this hair is so classy" he lightly brushed a finger though it before reaching to hold your chin. you subconsciously leaned into his touch "hm why thank you. you look very classy and handsome too"

"are you ready to go?" "yeah, just lemme grab my purse and my phone" you told him. he waited by the stairs as you ran up to grab your things.

once you were back downstairs, his hand found its place on the small of your back as you walked out the front door.

he opened the door to the passenger seat for you as you sat down. it was about a thirty minute drive to the place.

the house in question screamed pure opulence. it was a two story, old money style home with a pathed garden. there were a bunch of cars parked outside the home and lingering down the block.

"jesus whose house is this??"you scoffed. "jean's. he let mikasa throw the party here as some big gesture to ask her out." eren rolled his eyes. "what you don't approve?" you giggled. "not necessarily but it's cool" he shrugged.

"he's kind of an asshole sometimes but i guess he's toned it down a little lately" he scoffed, leaving the car. he opened your door and held your hand as you stepped out.

"thank you kind sir" you wrapped your arm around his. "you're welcome m'lady" eren put on an accent.

you walked up the path to the front entrance of this house. "god how does jean even have a house like this, this is insane" "his dad's the ceo of a stock brokerage company or something like that" eren told you "he makes like 300k a year or something like that" your jaw dropped.

sometimes you forget how rich some of the people at your school were. the school itself was expensive you knew that, but you were attending off scholarship. it's not like you were poor or anything, your situation just did not compare to some of your peers.

"that's wild" you scoffed. eren held open the door for you and you looked around at how beautiful it was inside. people were scattered around the foyer with drinks in hand, there were caterers scurrying to the kitchen and chefs in the back. the room was decorated with golden streamers, clear and white balloons, wine glasses, feathers, hanging lights, everything in the room was white, black and gold. there was a chandelier in the middle of the room, but you were sure that was just jean's regular house decor.

everyone was dressed in 20s attire - girls in long dresses, flapper dresses, feathers, and long jewelry. boys were in vests, suspenders, hats, and suits. you looked to your left to what looked like jean's living room, now without couches and instead tables for all the guests.

mikasa and armin turned around to see you and eren made it and made her way over to the two of you. "ugh finally you're here" she reached her hands out to hug eren from the side as eren dapped armin. "hi" he waved to you and you smiled, returning the wave.

mikasa wore a long champagne colored dress with jewels sewed onto it. her headband had a white feather sticking out of it and she wore a gold silk shawl.

"hey, you look so cute!" she smiled at you. "thanks you look amazing! happy birthday" she hugged you next. "thank you" she smiled. "this is all so.." she cut you off "over the top and unnecessary? i know, jean went overboard" she sighed. "actually i was gonna say beautiful" you laughed.

"well i'll see you guys, sasha just texted me asking us to meet her" she said, grabbing armin's hand.

"oh speaking of, lana told me to text her when we got here" you told eren and he nod his head, not letting go of your hand.

you texted her that you were in the foyer and saw her immediately head your direction with connie.

"oh my god you look delicious i could literally eat you out right now" she said, hugging you. "yo!" connie raised his eyebrows at her. "yall are so gay" he laughed.

"did you guys get drinks yet, jean's got drinks in the back to spike them" she told you. "oh shit don't let y/n get drunk like last time" eren laughed at connie's joke. "what? what happened last time?" you furrowed your eyebrows. "when you were shaking your ass on that table in front of everyone at jean's party" connie told you, lana flicked his hand.

"oh my god i did that?!" you looked at eren and lana. eren just laughed "at least you looked good" he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"come on, let's go get drinks and then i'll show you guys where we're sitting" lana grabbed your hand as connie and eren followed behind.

lana poured a drink in a glass and handed it to you before showing you to your table. "the food better be good" lana said. "right" you laughed.

armin, mikasa, jean, marco, and sasha joined you all at the table. there was music playing and people dancing, everyone had gotten their food after the chefs opened the kitchen to everyone.

carla and grisha got up to make toasts to mikasa, followed by eren and armin. the music paused for everyone to sing happy birthday to her and take pictures. by now you had 3 shots worth of alcohol in your drinks, thanks to lana.

also thanks to lana, everyone at the table joined the crowd of people in the middle of the room dancing and jumping around.

the alcohol in your system was a comfortable level of drunk, you weren't drunk to the point of a hangover the next day but you were drunk enough that your limbs felt a little loose.

'fancy' by drake was playing on jean's speakers with everyone singing along and dancing. "how are your feet not hurting?" sasha asked you and lana, taking off her heels. "pointe shoes prepared us for this" lana laughed.

eren was with you this time, also a little drunk himself. his bow tie was off and his shirt was unbuttoned three buttons down, your boa and head piece were discarded at the table. he sang along with you, hand refusing to leave your waist as you danced along with lana.

he admired how carefree you were when you got like this, every time you danced it's like you were a different person, or maybe an extension of yourself. you danced so freely and even when you whined your hips you were graceful.

your arms were up in the air as you twirled your hips. eren held onto them as he felt your butt graze against the front of his pants. he tried to ignore it and continue dancing but you kept doing it. his grip on your waist held tighter, he saw the sly smirk on your face as you slightly turned your head.

he felt you push your ass further back on him and he bit his cheek to distract from letting a certain something grow behind you.

"y/n come with me i have to go to the bathroom!" lana dragged your hand, quickly looking for jean's restroom. "i'll be back" you turned to wink at him.

he scoffed and shook his head with a dumb grin on his face. jesus, everything about you just left him wanting more. you really knew how to make him chase.

lana bunched up her dress and sat down on the toilet while you fixed your hair and checked yourself out in the mirror. "broke the seal?" you asked, giggling. "broke the seal...." she sighed.

she moved you over so she could wash her hands. "i have to go send my mom proof of life" she told you. "you can go, just give a second" you told her.

she gave you a kiss on the cheek and left the bathroom.

you dug in your purse for your lip gloss and perfume, freshening yourself up a little bit. you opened the door to go back to everyone. you startled when you saw eren standing off to the side on his phone.

"are you following me?" "maybe" he smiled, leaning up off the wall to stand closer in front of you. "you smell good" you watched his chest rise as he inhaled to smell you again. "mm thank you" you looked up at him. "so why'd you follow me, i was coming back you know...miss me that much?" you grinned.

he just stared at you for a moment "i wanna kiss you again" the want in his voice sounded so earnest. "so do it.." you barely got the full sentence out before his lips were on yours and your back was against the wall. you stopped for a moment before melting into the kiss.

you moved your hands to hold the side of his head, letting your nails run through his shortened hair. eren loved it.

his hand rest on your hip while the other grazed down the side of your body to hold your thigh through the slit of your dress. he held up your leg to rest on his side while his leg bumped forward between your thigh. you groaned feeling his knee brush against your panties.

"been wanting to kiss you again since that night. all i've thought about" eren met your eyes before moving to kiss your neck. you were thankful that this bathroom was concealed by jean's stairs, but you were still worried someone might come over and you put a hand on eren's chest telling him to wait.

eren paused. "i'm worried someone might come over here" you told him.

he looked around for a moment before grabbing your hand and pulling you toward a door at the end of the hallway. he opened the door to find a small study on the other side. you entered, looking around for a moment while eren closed and locked the door.

eren grabbed your arm and you slipped your purse off your shoulder letting it land on the desk. you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your lips back on his. he walked you backwards until the back of your thighs bumped against the desk. he eased you to sit down, placing himself in between your legs.

he kissed down your neck and across your shoulders, leaving a deep red mark on your clavicle. now you'd have to cover that up, but it was worth it.

he looked up at you for the go ahead as he pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nod your head.

his eyes were full of lust with a sly grin on his face as he pulled the top of your dress down, revealing your bare tits. "damn, how are you this perfect?" he seemed a little hesitant to put his hands on you, hands slowly easing up your waist so you grabbed his hands and put them on your boobs.

"don't be shy, i won't break. i want you" you whispered against his lips before kissing him. your breath hitched when you felt his calloused thumb rubbing against your nipple. he gave you one last peck on your lips before moving to put your tit in his mouth.

your eyes closed and you hummed in pleasure. this was the first time anyone else has ever touched you like this. you moaned as you held the back of his head in your hand. you brought your hands to his chest, beginning to unbutton his shirt. his stomach and chest were toned but note over muscly, he had little freckles and a beauty mark. you let your hands trace over his body.

you looked down to see there was another mark on your boob, just above your nipple. god he was really setting you up.

"eren...i want more" you whined. you could feel yourself getting wet, panties clinging to your vagina. all you wanted was his mouth on you. "hm? what do you need pretty girl?"

you held his hand and trailed it down to your panties. "need you right here" you had a teasing grin on your face as you held his hand over your clothed clit. "anything you want baby" he smirked.

he moved your dress, bunching it up at your waist as he brought your ass closer to the edge of the desk.

he kissed you again as his arm dipped between your bodies, rubbing a finger along your slit through the fabric of your panties. you moaned as your lips smashed together.

he reached for the waistband of your panties and began to slowly pull them off of you. you eagerly lifted your hips to help him get them off.

"you still good princess?" you knew he was asking if you were still up for it, which you most definitely were. you nod your head "i wanna hear you say it" "yes eren, i want you to fuck me"

hearing those sultry words come out of your mouth make eren's head spin. if he wasn't hard before - which he was, he was definitely hard now.

he gathered your slick on his finger before slowly pushing his middle finger inside you. you immediately let out a string of moans as he began to curl his finger inside you. it was much longer and way more pleasurable than awkwardly trying to angle your own fingers just right. you felt your face getting warm.

he add his ring finger into the mix, curling and pumping them inside you just right. you held on his shoulders tight as your moans and hums filled the room. thankful for the music playing outside the room, you knew you weren't being too loud.

"feel good princess?" he kissed your forehead. "so good" you groaned, voice light and airy.

"want you to go down on me ren...wanna feel your mouth" you looked at him, eyes pleading.

eren felt his cheeks warm and knew he was definitely blushing. god, how'd you manage to make him blush. he was almost nervous.

"i've got you baby" he kissed you before lowering himself to his knees in front of you. he anchored his hands on your thighs, spreading open your legs. 

he kissed down your thighs until he was face to face with your core. he pressed light feathery kisses against your lips before licking a stripe along your folds. you shuddered, you swore you could've came off that alone.

you got whiplash from how quick eren want from kitten licks to eating you like you were his last meal.

he sucked against your puffy clit, face practically buried in you. he licked his tongue in and out of your hole, before swirling it against your clit too.

his soft tongue worked over your folds, it's like he was trying to explore every crevice of you with his tongue. you couldn't help but grind your hips against his face, following the flow of how he ate you out. a moan ripped out of you as you felt his tongue go inside you again, you leaned back to anchor yourself on the desk with one hand while the other gripped his hair.

"fuck ren~ feels so.." you couldn't even get your sentence out when you felt him press his thumb against your clit, continuing to work his tongue over you.

you looked down to see him looking back up at you, eyes filled with lust and pride.

the combination of his thumb circling your nerves and his tongue prodding against your entrance had your mind blank. nothing you'd ever done on yourself felt this good.

your hand gripped his hair tighter and he let out a groan that sent goosebumps over your body.

the knot in your lower stomach grew tighter an tighter and before you knew it, you were cumming. your chest rose and fell as you held yourself up on your arms, head thrown back.

eren lapped every drop before coming to his feet again. "god you're....so fucking good at that..." you were practically out of breath. "you taste just as good as you look princess" he kissed you again and you could taste yourself against his lips.

the moment was over though when your phone began ringing. you sighed before reaching to answer it. it was lana, you put her on speaker, your body was so worked out you didn't feel like holding up your phone.

"dude where are you? i thought i was taking you home??" her voice was frantic. "yeah you are just give me a few minutes. i'll meet you outside" you told her. "why do you sound so out of breath, were you off running a marathon or something"

you looked at the teasing look on eren's face and rolled your eyes. "okay bye me and connie will meet you out front" she said before hanging up.

"sorry i didn't you know..help you out.." you looked down at the tent in his pants. "nah don't worry about it. just glad i could make you feel good" he kissed you. "and you definitely did. that was my first time getting eaten out, my first time doing anything actually" you admitted.

eren's eyebrows raised "for real?" you nod your head. "why didn't you tell me? that wasn't even my best best work for real. let's go. round two" he peppered kisses on your face making you giggle.

"lana's gonna be irritated if i keep her waiting" you said, pulling the sleeves up on your dress, eren rolled his eyes. "but don't worry, i definitely want there to be a part two" you whispered in his ear before leaving the room.

[mossyfart]

My very understandable live blog of the legend of Ruby Sunday, i obviously know exactly what's going on

-

"how are your mum and uncle" AS IF THE UNCLE ISN'T LITERALLY YOU??? 💀

SUSAN MENTION AGAIN SUSAN MENTION AGAIN WE ARE SO GETTING SUSAN

Ohhhh god finally the regeneration explanation

OUGHHHHH ROSE AND RUBY I LOVE THEM

I need donna and carla as besties

...mrs flood sus

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT MRS FLOOD???

OUGHHHHH KATE HUG SHE TRIED TO GET HIM TO NOT INTERNALIZE :(((

"do you have a time window" "you told us not to-" "do. you. have. a. time. window" "...yes-" 😭

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

This is not good what the fuck.

"its been waiting" the one that waits????

Oh no :(((((

Ooooo shit

YESSSSSS PLEASE PROCESS YOUR EMOTIONS

Ok either she's not Susan or she got timelord-watched

FUCKKKKK ITS GROANING AGAIN WHAT THE FUCK

Ohh the doctor is losing it

WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT

What

WHT

IS RUBY

WAHT

W H A T

Ok

1. What the fuck was that

2. So..... Definitely not Susan... but since the doctor was ready to face her with this whole thing he better go find her when all this is done-

[nortism]

doctor who liveblog pt 22

s4 ep10 midnight

- i’m glad donna’s getting a nice holiday

- COLIN MORGAN OF BBC MERLIN FAME??! katie mcgrath next pls

- “ladies and gentlemen and variations thereupon”

- ROSE ON THE TVVVVVVV

- oh god was she possessed

- FUCK SHES REPEATING LIKE THE THING OUTSIDE

- SHE GOT HIS VOICE

- that was such a good episode, genuinely unsettling

s4 ep11 turn left

- omg are we in a country that’s not the uk?? i didn’t know the tardis knew how to do that 😭😭

- oh never mind they’re on a different planet, should have known

- and billie piper!!

- oh the doctor’s dead

- get the screwdriver donna!!

- ROSE TYLER!!!!!!!!!!

- oh she’s vanished

- donna’s so funny

- NO MARTHA’S DEAD this sucks

- SARAH JANE SMITH’S DEAD?!?! this au is awful

- ROSE

- i love donna’s grandad so much it’s not even funny

- london’s gone??? thank god the world is free!

- not leeds

- uh oh america

- ROSE

- oh fuck jack as well

- oh great, now the uk is turning into nazi germany

- that’s a big old bug

- rip alternate universe donna

- BAD WOLF?!?!?!!????

- shitttttt

s4 ep12 the stolen earth

- oh fucj the earth’s gone

- MARTHA

- ohh fuck the companions r all gonna come together

- ROSE WITH A GIANT GUN WOOOO

- oh yeah the whole gang in the opening credits

- oh great we’re gonna find out what a shadow proclamation is

- ofc the british are celebrating the end of the world by drinking and rioting

- ofc it’s the fucking daleks

- i feel like there was easy ways to exterminate the human race i won’t lie

- the crucible?? always with the religious imagery

- idk if i trust the space cops

- not the rhinos again

- ohhhh they’re building a mega planet

- for what it’s worth, i trust martha to save the world. she’s done it before

- NO MARTHA

- the loss that is yet to come???

- also which god??

- BEES ARE ALIENS?!?!

- i knew i couldn’t trust the space cops

- ROSE

- when he was a 90 year old teenage girl

- HARRIET JONES MY LOVE

- yay martha’s alive

- aww rose is jealous

- is everyone here a jones?

- HARRIET NOOOOOO

- he’s still thinking about rose 😭😭

- jfc what is that

- ewww

- FUCKING DALEKS RUINING MY REUNION

- oh my polycule did reunite, just under the worst circumstances possible

- FUCK HES REGENERATING ALREADY

- noooo sarah jane

- whatttt

s4 ep13 journey’s end

- did he just regenerate back into david tennant???

- MICKEYYYYYYYYY

- JACKIEEEEEEEE

- oh the whole gang is back together i missed them 😭😭😭

- oh donna i love u

- they gotta stop leaving the tardis lying around!!!

- that’s nice of the daleks to translate for different countries

- that’s a lotta daleks

- donna?!!

- DONNA?!?!!??

- hello is donna regenerating?!?!

- ITS ANOTHER DOCTOR?!?!?

- dw rose this is just an avg day for jack

- nah is the new doctor technically donna and the doctor’s child???

- pls leave my girl and her mummy issues alone

- oh they’re soulmates

- when did martha learn german??

- oh yeah on her world tour

- it would be cool if they subtitled the german bc i’m getting none of this

- not loving the sound of a reality bomb

- omg they’re disintegrating

- oh so we’re destroying all matter now???

- won’t this also destroy the daleks??

- apparently not

- SHES GONNA BLOW UP THE EARTH

- oh fuck the whole gang’s been teleported

- it’s up to u now donna

- uh oh rip the other doctor

- uh oh rip donna

- this is a bit awkward

- YES FHEN DONNA

- the doctordonna

- SHES PART TIMELORD?!

- they oppenheimer-ed him

- K9!!!

- finally an explanation for why he sucks a flying the tardis so much, he needs more guys

- he’s got the biggest family on earth 😭😭

- she’s getting her own doctor?!

- aww she got her kiss?? i think aww?! this is a weird situation all round

- oh no donna’s malfunctioning

- wait what

- is she fucking dead

- HER MIND’S BEEN WIPED!!?!?!

- awww she’s forgotten him

- this is so sad

- aww granddad

- jesus that was bleak

[definitelynotshouting]

Ask game #25?

mcytblr writer ask game

25.) What works and/or authors in the fandom do you recommend?

OH MAN..... GODS OKAY well this is about to become me gushing about my friends, but i think everyone and their mother should be reading @raichett, @droidofmay, @good-chimes, @sillyfairygarden, @sisyphean-writes, @renardroi's writing. Like holy shit i know some incredible authors. Grim in particular went and fully changed my brain chemistry with his fic Total Apogee of the Heart, which i do believe i described to him as "like reading an oil painting," and "like you've taken an axe to my chest and deftly split it down the middle to show me the inner workings of my heart," which is truly the palest of terms i can use to describe something that ended up feeling so soul-shocking to me /pos. The skillful way he twists words to layer these rich, saturated themes into his stories makes me INSAAAAAAANE, its pretty much the epitome of how i want to write when it comes to thematic elements and imbuing my narratives with symbolism. I genuinely dont know how to describe it, but the way he crafts sentences and weaves in references to other media is like reading a fairytale, and it leaves me feeling like ive just resurfaced from a dream every time.

And, ofc, my very good and dear friend Raichett with their ACP-verse-- oh my gods what an incredible read. Reincarnation fic with modern minecraft worldbuilding FUCKING SIGN ME UP..... i think this might be my favorite fic in the fandom because truly you can just feel the heart-wrench of how long Grian has been waiting, of all those words left unsaid during his and Scar's initial conversation that we the reader happen to be privy to. AND THE SEQUEL!!! THEE SEQUELLLLL THE ONGOING SEQUEL RAAAAAAAHH okay im normal im normal im normal <- lying. It just manages to hit every fucking trope i love all at once so i start frothing at the mouth whenever it gets updated or they send me snippets. I could read Raichett's writing for hours and hours and just feel so warm within it, truly beautiful prose and characterization :]

And ohhhh Sisyphean my beloved..... if you havent been reading their anonymous scarian fic series then please please do so, especially Bread and Butterflies, a fic they gifted me that made me simultaneously want to cry and also curl up into for the rest of my life. Something about the atmosphere in their fics, along with the juxtaposition of their unique form of humor, really just knocks it out of the park for me. And, of course, the gut-wrenching wing scene-- trust me, you need to read this fic. The reveal is so incredibly well done that it feels like a gauze being lifted from your eyes so you can finally see more than the lurking silhouette of what's been hinted at. Beautiful fic and evocative writing, i dont feel like i can do it justice you're just gonna have to go read it for yourself >:]

Sorry i told you this was gonna be me gushing so i am going to gush can we talk about Droid's fucking fics please. Can we talk about those. I've always been captivated by their writing, worldbuilding, and the way they so deftly weave implications into their prose to present a fic that feels so neatly-woven it practically breathes. Every work i've ever read from them, regardless of fandom, is some of the most engaging writing ive ever read before. Not to promo a fic inspired by hunger au, but im especially enamoured with their gift will the curse be reversed if you say it backwards. Reading that was like getting kicked in the chest a billion times until it ached, and the way they portrayed the two Grian's dynamics brought me perilously close to tears multiple times while reading, which is admittedly very hard to do. Also i think reading that fic is the closest ive ever gotten to what yall experience whenever i upload a new hunger au chapter-- i stg the dread i felt as the fic progressed had me HOLLERING in their dms like "IS THIS WHAT THATS LIKE. OH MY GODS" truly just a phenomenal fic all around

Thello, oh Thello, my beloved friend, her fic you are here to risk your heart had ME heartbroken in the best of ways when i first read it, and every reread since has only solidified it as a stunning cross-section into 3L!scarian's dynamic. Thello's writing in general is always so deeply elegant and refined-- reading it feels a lot like shoving the world's richest, gooiest, most delicately-layered cake into my mouth to melt on my tongue. She just gets intimacy in a way i rarely see done, highlighting the fragile way people can come together while straining to stay apart. Her writing is so deeply, utterly human in the details she chooses to focus on, and that level of groundedness paired with her fantastical prose makes me feel like what im reading is both very real and also the whisps of a beautiful, colourful dream.

And, last but very much not least, my wonderful friend Telk. Telk's writing is so utterly unique, bursting at the seams with both humor and a quiet rawness that punches me right in the ribs every single fucking time. They're also so deeply, insanely skilled at being able to say so so much in a story while dancing around the actual core of it, drawing you into understanding whats really going on below the surface like an event horizon. Their fic A Certain Je Ne Sais What is, in my mind, a particularly good example of the subtle and skillful way they weave implications into their work-- im perpetually in awe of how meticulously they poured Grian's cognitive dissonance between how he really feels about Scar, and how he wants to feel about Scar, into the narrative. That, and their characterization is genuinely flawless, im not sure ive ever read better character voices that capture the inherent humor of their owners than in Telk's writing.

Gods i have so much more to say about so many more of my friends and their fics but i'll stop here otherwise i will never shut up. Local guy loves his friends so fucking much i will shout it to the sky any chance i can take<3

And as a bonus, here's the hermit/trafficshipping collection i run on ao3, affectionately nicknamed The Body Count!! Its chock-full of incredible authors and writing, all of whom are my close friends, and its recently expanded to contain 60+ fics!! 60+!!!! INSANE. MY FRIENDS ARE INSANE AND I LOVE THEM PLEASE GO READ AND COMMENT ON THEIR WORKS BC THEY DESERVE THE ATTENTION :] THANKS FOR THE ASK AAAAAAAAAA OKAY BYE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[memberment]

GOOD MORNING EVERYONE

So the Trinitarians brain worm is back and Morning Glory is now longer and biting the dust as far as my focus goes.

But like, I genuinely want to talk to anyone who's invested in what's to come as far as part two goes. SO PLEASE. I IMPLORE THE FOUR OF YOU WHO PERPETUALLY TAKE NOTICE OF MY SCREAMS INTO THE VOID.

We're all aware that Trin is a time loop fic. That is confirmed.

BUT THE PROBLEM IS HOW I'M GOING ABOUT DOING THAT. AND I NEED INPUT FROM PEOPLE THAT ARE NOT ME AS FAR AS PLEASES AND SPARKLES GO, YES?

Because like sure I'm writing it and like fuck everything else, let me tell my story. But it's the how of it all like if I'm gonna throw another 200 give or take hours into this I would at least like one person to be having a wonderful time drinking and driving (I have since remembered this is not a common phrase, I do not mean this in a literal sense, it's an expression) with me right?

Part two is going to be 50 chapters, give or take. (Part one is about 37 for reference.)

So the plan for part 2 rn is (ROGUHLY):

(1-10) is the second timeline. There are a lot of importants and I cannot just glaze over it all more than that. But we're also working in a bit of a shorter time period than the original events of the story and introductions do not need to happen again, right?

(11-40)ish would be me running through the next timelines in a set up structure -> what changes -> the results of said changes and then inevitably what sends our looper backwards. It wouldn't be running through all the timelines but the more notable ones in kind of a four chapter structure, I am not fully sold on four, but rough estimate yk.

And then 41-50 would be the finale of part two. It's literally the last timeline in its glory and then the epilogue which kicks off part three.

COULD AT LEAST ONE OF Y'ALL SIT THROUGH THAT OR DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY NOTES AT ALL BECAUSE LIKE

I personally kinda like it but if not a soul is reading this I am throwing myself on the curb with the rest of the garbage LMFAOOO.

I NEED THOUGHTS. OPINIONS. COMMENTS. CONCERNS. ANYTHING.

Anyways, I'm going to work. I have off tomorrow and I broke the ff investment seal for today so insanity and updates will be here tonight and homework will be tomorrow.

HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GOOD DAY <3

(9:30) I am literally falling asleep as I lazily write this angel based on Danse Macabre. Expect all of maybe one more update tonight if the tacos I am abt to receive don't wake me up LMFAO.

Also, I am almost saddened by not having something to post tm. Anyone want an early chapter of something that isn't Genesis/Desolation bc they're both on Monday?????? (I am feeling like a menace rn)

(10:19) tacos and the absolute yap session I just had did wake me up a bit. MAAAYBE might write some more. Idk I slept like three hours last night and went to work I'm kinda dead. But we're at 98.2k!!!!!!🥳

(11:06) okay we made it to 99.6k everything besides the flashback for 31 is done. I'm about to relax and watch something and figure out mechanics of some of this because god this series is A BEAST. Like, I still have six planned chapters left.

Pure insanity. I love it here. I hate it here.

Holy shit wait I just came to the realization that I started this fic exactly one month ago. I have belted out 99.6k for THIS FIC ALONE. (Moreso if we're including future shit that hasn't happened yet)

IN ONE MONTH.

THAT IS FUCKING CRAZY WHAT HTE FUCK LMFAOOOO

I may or may not be cooking we’ll find out in 6-26 business hours

(5:28) So I just had a very interesting past few business hours. I read a fic I've been waiting ever so patiently to finish. That's cool, right. I go for a walk at 4 in the morning because I'm insane. Fantastic. I get home at five and I'm like ohhhh well what do I do now it's not sleep time yet. Oh write I'm supposed to be drawing.

Nope I reread the epilogue of morning glory and realized Tweek's first address is for my morning glory and Craig's last sign off is your morning glory and now I'm ready to throw myself on the curb with the garbage as I sob. Someone call a trusted adult for me thanks.

[junee-e]

A NEW PENUMBRA EPISODE HAS RISEN!!!! TIME TO THROW MY THOUGHTS INTO THE ABYSS!!!! random thoughts and ramblings follow :D

I AM SO READY FOR DETECTIVE RITA YOU HAVE NO IDEA

OH SHIT WILL SHE BE NARRATING PLEASE TELL ME SHES NARRATING

HER DETECTIVE VOICE IS SO FUN IM SO DEAD

why is she better at this than juno this is going so much better than his attempt

‘WATCH THIS’ * keyboard tapping noises* (i love her)

of course she gets paid in cereal i dont know what i expected

oh ok no junos still narrating

‘THE MAN I LOVED WAS ON THE LINE’ (this will never get old for me)

‘my name is juno steel and *usually* im the private eye’ i am enjoying this way too much

ok why do i love skipper they’re so fun?

‘he just ruins the *peaceful vibes*’ so real so real

HE TOOK THE FUCKING FLOWERS I SWEAR TO GOD

rita. had. dinner with them. oh my god. she is the best.

the mother speaking for the grandfather in like such an annoyed voice and then being so calm with ‘or so father says’ is so funny to me

skippers so dramatic i love them

‘SHUT UP DEAREST’ LMAOO

ooooooo did skipper help nureyev?? wait no thats too obvious….or it is just obvious enough to be right????…..no its isnt….or is it???? (im going insane)

‘he makes friends or.. more than friends and he uses those connections to his advantage’ OH SHIT (skipper???? skipper?? skipper kinda makes sense???) (but like yknow…obvious option)

‘watch skippers reaction in particular’ AHAHA!

OOOO ARE WE GONNA GET RITA NUREYEV INTERACTIONS PLEASE OH MY GOD

‘mostly i was thinking about nureyev’ *cue me falling off my chair at the instant romantic soundtrack that apparently follows nureyev’s name everywhere now*

roomantiic moonoolougueee tiimmee

GRIMMS MASK EPISDOE CALL BACK OH I AM NOT READY

‘another love’ ITS FOR HIS JOB ISNT IT ISTG

OH ITS FOR FUCKING HYPERION CITY OHHHHH SHIT

why does this remind me of the monolouge at the end of final resting place (end of the first season)

‘it wasnt a very nice city but hell im not a very nice lady’ vs ‘this is my city. im not proud of it but that doesnt mean its not worth saving’

there are so many things this season that are setting up to be broken (probably not the right word) but like so many things that have potential for a really sad/angsty pay off. like nureyev and slip or juno telling nureyev he’ll keep following him untl he says he doesnt want him to. or juno and missing hyperion city. i’m so scared.

oh ritas so dramatic its making me so happy

HE TOOK THE ORCHIDS !!!!!

ITS THE MOTHER????

of course she had an inflatable couch in her hideout spot

ooooo its juno detective-ing explain-ing time

juno obsessing over detective stuff is so fun

a CoNfEsSiOn

‘im tired of you people…and also just tired’ skipper being way too relatable

OH SHIT NUREYEV DIDNT TAKE THE FLOWERS???

SOMEONE TOOK THE FLOWERS FOR NUREYEV WHAT IS THIS????

OH IT WAS THE GRANDFATHER WHAT???

‘he sent me up to bed early’ ma’am, you are a probably-around-40-or-something-year-old woman

the gibberish is still funny

WHAT HE WAS FUCKING IN LOVE WITH NUREYEV HUH WHAT THATS SO FUNNY

‘we know how this theif operates he grabs you by your heartstrings and never lets go’ yeah rita would know about that with all the agnsty monolouges

WHAT THE FUCK HES TALKING????

WHO SAID HE LOVED HIM??? NUREYEV???? WHAT???

OH FUCK OH SHIT OH NO OH GOD ‘he said hed come back for me he said we’d run away together’ OHHHH NO NO NO NO NO. NO LONGER FUNNY

‘well it looks like my work here…is done’ *very fast tapping of rita walking away*

OH WAIT SHE CAME BACK TO ACTUALLY HELP JUNO LMAOO

awwww they’re all back together!

A TRACKER A TRACKER HE GOT IT ON NUREYEV AHAHAHA

THEY KNOW WHERE THE DOKANA GROUP IS LETS GO

oh ok fuck i thought we were done how foolish of me there hadnt been a sad speech yet

‘i knew he hadnt done the same to me’ OH THANK GOD OKOK

‘he meant the promises he made me’ AWW YAY

wait no its sad oh god oh no

‘problems for another day, i thought’ best coping method fr fr

‘the rest we’d just have to figure out together’ yay ok happy-ish ending :D

okok so alot of thoughts. i’m so scared of all the set-ups for angst and honestly i’m kinda just waiting for the episode that it all comes crashing down and everyones really sad. but also! hopefullness! juno saying that he’ll figure it out with nureyev! yay! i honestly don’t know how the big climax finally thing with jupeter and slip and the dokana group and everything is going to go i’m just really hoping for an eventual happy ending with happy jupeter (and rita there too :D)

anyway! loved this episode can’t wait for the next one with (i’m assuming) stuff with the Dokana group!!

[italicized-oh]

📓!!!

hiiiii sorry this took me so long to get to! i had some Irrational Fear to deal with. but i kicked its ass so we're back, baby

all right. look. we all know i have religious trauma. and so a Very large part of me wants to go back to make me an instrument (the v distorted reality fucked up timescape flashback experience jace has post-death and/or post-shatterstar). and i probably will if anyone else wants to read it lol. but!

as far as something i haven't written yet but have just been noodling on. i'm v v curious about what an amnesia fic would entail for any combo of zarajaceporter (or if i'm gonna janelle-bait then. any clone combo too). like we've done a lot of tropes so far and i am in Absolute Undying Love with every single one of them. but unless i've missed it i think it would be v v fun (and also evil) of me to write either porter or jace losing their memories post-fhjy finale. the whole coming back wrong thing, but like. coming back wrong 2: electric boogaloo. oops no memories of the One Meaningful Event that tied us together. of the years of devotion and manipulation and salvific fantasies and. well. scorching hot sex.

idk who it would be worse for in which role, but here's some initial thoughts below.

if it's porter who comes back w oops no memories. then jace is all alone w his trauma (unless zara's there but even then. she wasn't ensared by porter like jace was). like. he's carrying the weight of knowing porter, knowing porter-rage-god, and knowing this. not shell bc it's still v much porter. but it's somehow not the same porter as before bc this one knows something is missing. and lives with a hollowness inside him that makes him so, so fucking angry (at ankarna, funnily enough. some things never change). and he's so deeply in love with jace all over again, but jace has decided that This Time he won't fall into bed/love w porter again.

if it's jace, though. ohhhh boy. i almost feel ashamed of how brutally naive he would be all over again. if you're a jaceclone enjoyer, think j2's whole deal. like. do we watch him fall for porter all over again? does this jace inherently distrust porter for some reason unknown to him? does this jace know why porter looks at jace like porter's expecting jace to stab him or mind sliver him at any moment? does this jace even care? like, idk, it might actually be good in a twisted kind of way, because porter gets a do over and jace doesn't have to have literally been consumed and used up by a rage monster. hmmm. i don't think jace is angry, though. i think he's secretly relieved, because context clues and the haunted look in porter's eyes are plenty. he doesn't need to remember (bc in my heart and my headcanons jace is at his core a coward. not in a really derogatory way, just in a. that man has no spine. only under the Most Extreme circumstance will he stand up to someone.)

anyways tl;dr: amnesia fic featuring so, so much pining, theorizing about what it means to come back wrong but at least you came back, and the question of whether it's better to remember or not remember the years of your life when your mind and body were not your own. oops now we're into my trauma personally so im gonna end it here. hope this entertains! <3

[jovenshires]

💛Smoshblr December Asks Final Day💙

We‘ve done it! We’ve finally reached the end of this lil ask game and also the end of 2023! 🥳 Thank you so much for joining in on this, I truly appreciate it so much 🫶! I wish you a wonderful start into the new year and that all your hopes and dreams for 2024 will come true! ✨💞

But, since the year isn’t quite over yet, I thought this might be a nice time to reminisce a little bit. Therefore, the final question of the Smoshblr December Asks Game:

What are your favourite smosh-related memories of 2023? 💖

(no specific amount required for this one; and you can ofc also include older smosh memories, if you want to 🤗)

oh my god........ im emotional fr. this was so, so, SO much fun and stella, i will speak for EVERYONE you sent these asks to when i say that we are all so grateful to YOU for organizing it. you brought the community together in such an amazing way, asking us thought-provoking and interesting questions, a lot of which i never would have thought to ask. and yet i got to learn all my mutuals' answers anyway!!! it made me feel like i really got to know everyone, even the people im too scared to start a convo with bc i am a Coward. i love you, we all adore you, thank you SO much, and i cant wait to see where smoshblr goes in the new year now that we are all closer than ever <3<3<3<3<3

okay so...... okay okay okay okay HERE we go. im gonna put it under the cut bc this got SO long but if you want a tl;dr summary, please by all means go check out this video i made at the beginning of the month bc. it sums it up tbh.

making all of my amazing friends: i am literally. an emotional wreck just thinking ab this. anyway. i've already been sappy enough this year (from my christmas presents to my many many personal posts and asks that are just. me talking about how much i love these people), but i would still be remiss if i didn't mention my beautiful, wonderful friends. im not gonna tag them all here - it'd be too many and you all know who you are <3<3<3 - but to everyone i've dmed for hours on end, or talked to in replies, or mutuals i've never even spoken to at all, or anons who come into my askbox and just have the most wonderful interactions with me, i am so, so eternally grateful. i made new friends; i reconnected with one of my best friends in the WHOLE world; i met some people who i never would have spoken to otherwise and found such an incredible community. i love you all so so SO much (yes ALL of you even if you think im not talking ab you if you're reading this i AM), and i am so excited to see what happens with all of us next. love you all. mwah. <3

domo day/my birthday: oh my god. OHHHH my god. literally the fic that brought me back to this fandom. i am not crying its fine im FINE. domo - aka dancing on my own - was a passion project from the very start. i thought, 'well, no one will wanna read this niche lil fic that im writing just to deal with My very personal trauma about an rpf ship that no one cares about.' (mind you i started it before i even posted right side, so, like, i literally thought it was just me standing on a deserted island.) and then five or six months later... there we were. i posted it on my birthday (bc i Live for drama !) and god. the amount of love and support i got that day was... everything to me. when i said this was a passion project, i mean that it was truly one of the first things i sat down and wrote For Myself, without giving a fuck what anyone else would think. it was something i poured my heart and soul into because i needed to read it. and when other people started to reach out - telling me how much they related, how much they got from it, how much it meant to them. then there was the analyses of it from everyone,,,, not to mention the birthday love. my birthday is a HUGE thing for me, and, as i told you at the time, you were the very first person to wish me a happy birthday stella (with that incredible moodboard that i think of frequently........ the rat.........). and then kit went and published bad idea and gifted it to ME which was such an incredible and treasured gesture and... truly some of my irls forgot to wish me a happy birthday so. im just so honored and i love you all so much. thank you for loving me and my dearest darling daughter domo <333333

shaynse day: this literally isn't even about me, it's honestly about nat, but this changed my brain chemistry and i think everybody's tbh. it was the way that the MOMENT the love is blind video dropped, we all gathered around my blog to hold hands, sing kumbaya, and all hail the shaynse anon (aka now shaynse founder nat). they had their third eye OPEN. and everyone had to come check on them to make sure they were okay. that meant so much to me. not only did it mean that enough people were reading my blog that an anon had their own niche subset of a fan base, but it was truly like. one of the best displays of fandom togetherness i've ever seen. we were all so united that day. god bless november 19th, aka shaynse day, my FAVORITE national holiday.

gedits: i really Dont think i have to explain this one. this is one of my favorite bits (but also its not really a bit and i genuinely wanna fuck that old man). making thirst traps for garrett? oh my god. stroke of actual genius. once again another day we all came together, held hands, and decided we were ALL gonna be garrett fuckers. long live gedits. they will never stop and im NOT sorry about it.

the bsf fan art: i have literally never had fan art made for my fic before...... i screamed and cried and threw up when someone made fan art for the bed-sharing fic. furry-jackson is my hero and this fan art lives in my mind RENT FUCKING FREE. it truly imprinted itself on my brain and i think about it all the time. thanks so much to them for loving i could be the reason as much as i do <3333

the top ten dynamics poll: !!!!! my baby!!!! i truly thank you all so much for indulging me by voting in that silly lil poll. it was so SO interesting to see the way the dynamics stacked up. not to mention, it also got me into gif-making again!! that was the first time i'd made gifs in ages, especially gifs i was proud of. but i love that silly lil gif series so much, one of my favorite projects of the year, so thank you all <3

smoshblr december asks: i mean. i said it all up top, but it's worth mentioning again. this was so, so, SO much fun, and it must have been such hard work for you, and i am honored that you did all this work for US of all people when you are so busy and talented and working so hard just in like. YOUR LIFE. honestly, this whole section could just be called 'stella,' bc i am so, so grateful for you especially coming into my life this year. whether we're working together on fic or just chatting about our lives or shouting back and forth about why EVERY taylor swift song is in fact a spommy song, i am just so lucky to have you and i love you so, so much. you always tolerate my shenanigans and i am SO incredibly lucky to have you as a friend. anyway. yeah i love you and smoshblr december asks so there.

[yatgb]

hi graham! list 5 things that make you happy, then send this to the askbox of the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers!

Aww hi neha!!!! Omfg i havent done one of these in 5ever

Uhhh ok so [stabds at the front kf the class] 5 things that make me happy are

The new glass animals song (it released yesterday anf ive already looped it like 20 times its just soo its so. Its so. Clenches fist)

MY OCS!!!!!!! ive been thinking sooo hard about the Highschool Hijinks gang and ohhhh my god. Dont you love it when a like 8 years long story finally starts coming together. Because me too

Really really pretty sunsets like last night at work the entire sky was suuuuch a beautiful dusky purple all over and there was a break in the clouds that was sooo richly orange like a warm fireplace and i get why people say heaven is real like it was soo fucking gorgeous

My stuffed animals :D all a them :D ive been seeping with Tree Bark and Junior at the moment but i have so lany of them and i love them sooo much

Obvious choice is obvious but shiver splatoon. I see my little veemo and my heart goes :D!! Look at her. How can you not enjoy a little veemo

[kiss2012]

final 911 thoughts…

k tommy’s entrance in 7x03 kinda slayed ngl. the fake static LMAO

“i’d follow your hunches any day” “it’s cap and athena let them fire us” CATCH ME CRYING IN THE CLUB

eddie’s incredulous happy little laugh when they saw the flare <3

this show is at its best when 1) it’s about the inherent goodness of humanity and how everyone deserves to be saved, 2) when the members of the 118 are in Situations, 3) when they r all a happy family, and 4) when they are flagrantly disobeying orders to save the people they love

TJE BACHELOR HAHAHDHHSHSHHSHAHAHAH

u don’t understand how funny this is to me (person who watched the most recent bachelorette live)

making buck bi in the bachelor episode literally the greatest thing they have ever done.

I LOVE MADDIE CHIMNEY AND JOSH TRYING TO FIND OUT WHO THE BACHELOR IS DHDJKDD

scream at joey’s face when the contestants proposition buck and eddie

once again buck continues his trend of either flirting on purpose or flirting without realizing he’s flirting.

HOW DID ANYONE GET THROUGH THIS EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK ARE BUCK EDDIE AND TOMMY ALL DOING

buck saying he’s “keeping his options fluid” LOL.

look im glad to see harry even if the actor’s different i missed him but WHERE IS MAY

ravi i love you so deeply

oh my god ravi looks so beautiful

“you and tommy have a lot in common: both in the army both like watching half-naked men pummel each other” WHAT???? WHAT THE FUCK AM I WATCHING

so i understand exactly what’s going on with buck right now he is certifiably insane but he’s obviously jealous over eddie and jealous over tommy and worried about being replaced especially with chris and insecure and confused about what he’s feeling etc. but eddie 😭😭😭 what’s going on babe

I LOVE MADDIE

ok seriously did we need a rehash of the WORST athena plotline to date???

BUCK IS SO EMBARRASSING.

oh my god i physically can’t watch this

ummmmm yikes

i’ve seen a lot of people both blindly defending buck for this and a lot of people hating on it and i don’t really think it’s that simple. like i think it was wrong wish we could see him apologize but it is some delicious drama. like suck ur teeth in hand over mouth kinda drama.

chimney pretty much summed it up and maddie was so right…love u madney

maddie’s hilarious for being like yeah buck i understand where ur coming from i also made desperate bids for my friend’s attention. when i was a 14 year old girl.

“so stop acting like one” YEAH LMAO

END OF 7x04. WOWWW THAT WAS A LOT

you’d think seeing half of this in gifsets would’ve desensitized me to it. but it hasn’t.

this would have been the perfect opportunity to have tommy talk about how he regrets his behaviour during the begins episodes and talk more about his friendships with hen and chimney??

tommy. BUCK!!!!!!!

scream.

um im sorry i cant blame tommy for leaving buck at the curb after that hot chicks comment. and then the “bro”??? im in agony.

i thought u guys were joking this is marisol’s like fourth appearance on screen and we’ve barely heard her speak let alone seen her interact with eddie but he “really likes her” and they’re moving in together? um excuse me??? WHY ARE THEY LYING TO ME I DONT KNOW THIS WOMAN NO ONE KNOWS THIS WOMAN NOT EVEN EDDIE KNOWS THIS WOMAN

ohhhh my god that post about how unlike tommy eddie’s always treated buck like an equal partner no matter what from the very beginning. yeah…

denny is so sweet.

MADDIE AND BUCK COMING OUT SCENE MY BELOVED

disaster bi buck fr (affectionate)

the “christopher is out of town for a couple days” is still killing me. where is he.

eddie is such a dreamboat truly who wouldn’t be in love with him

so many shannon mentions this season thank you…i miss you shannon

if you need me i’ll be thinking about eddie’s thumb on That Spot.

this end scene is the best buck has looked all episode the choice to have him literally bathed in sunlight is so real and true

7x06 time oh my god im so scared

maddie and hen look unbelievably stunning. jesus christ.

eddie looks beautiful in his beautiful pre-destroyed pink suit. buck…your suit was a Choice. i will free you from whoever is doing your hair like that pls buck just let me in i can fix it pls

eddie wasn’t overtly bitchy about tommy being there until he saw tommy hug buck. he’s so funny.

HENREN AND RAVIIIIII 🥰🥰🥰🥰 and all three of their outfits r a slay

can’t explain to you how much i love clipboard buck if clipboard buck has no lovers i am not on this earth etc. and a karaoke bachelor party really is such a thoughtful idea even if it’s not what chimney wanted

but once again buck is so embarrassing i can’t do this

thanks we had a…time. HFJFJDKD

MONTAGE <33333 buck and eddie’s bestieism is off the charts im gonna cry…

“i am 911” maddie buckley the woman that you are…

i unapologetically looked at a million spoilers for this episode but i still don’t know What happened to chimney and im scared

kevin and the lees 😭😭😭😭

CHIMNEY GOING BACK TO THE KARAOKE BAR HE AND KEVIN WORKED AT. OH IM SICK

“telling buck no is like telling a dog not to jump your leg” is definitely. a line. that. they chose. for this episode.

I LOVE YOU CHIMNEYYY

home and he went to the lees. god….

IM GONNA BE SAD ABOUT KEVIN FOREVER

moment 1363673 of buck giving me the worst and somehow most affectionate secondhand embarrassment i’ve ever felt in my life

perfect episode no notes. actually one note WHERE WAS ALBERT. but other than that im in shambles time to listen to islands in the stream on repeat

[hotgirlstiles]

What do you consider essential sterek songs? 💓

OHHHH MY GOD I JUST WENT CRAZY. OJAY!! OKAY:

in my room by frank ocean is THEEE one. i heard this song and instantly i was like i NEED to make a sterek playlist. like she started it all!!!

(also mind you i have 8. EIGHT. playlists for sterek. this might be a little long 🥲😂😅🤣)

BITE ME by kilo kish. just listen to it

home with you by fka twigs DUHHHHH.

seigfried by frank ocean of course. the markings on your surface. your speckled face. i just am a firm believer of derek hale who listens to frank ocean

closer by nine inch nails. It should be in everyones sterek playlist tbh

old money by lana del rey. i love my boyfriend by princess chelsea. NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU BABY BY CIGARETTES AFTER SEX. NO EXPLAIANTION NEEDED!!!!

angel by massive attack!!! this is specifically dark derek to me.. ouhhh

YALL THIUGHT I WAS DONE. IM NOT. THATS JUST ONE PLAYLIST.. i have sooo many essential songs for sterek uts drastic

i go to sleep by the kinks as well.. this is just sooo derekpov to me..the lyrics are just so fucking devastating to me... can also be applied to s5 stiles ohgod my tummy hurts

now this is the most important song i think. i bet yall were wondering why i havent even said it yet.. please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths. or the one by deftones. both just scream DEREK ABOUT STILES so bad !!!! AND ALSO BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE BY THE SMITHS AGHHHHHHH THEEEEE DEREKPOVS ABOUT STILES SONGS likw the lines and youll never know.. how much i really like you cause i never even told you.... and about how he wants to go back to the old house but he cant... GAWD!!!!

distractions by wild painting is SO summer before s3 sterek to me.. like the kinda slow vibes and then the buildup to the bridge... thats just how i see sterek develop always like this crazy and gradual buildup that explodes everywhere

i wanna be good by the walters OHHHH GOD. OKAY THERES A PARTERN. A BUNCH OF DEREKPOV SONGS IT SEEMS.. hes amiling right at me and i feel it in my knees but i dont wanna trust no one.... like hello. god

iris by goo goo dolls. DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN. and VERY specifically this official live in buffalo, ny. Godfuck

and of course.. francis forever, pink in the night, geyser, and i will, all by mitski 🩷

as a final essential song for sterek…. i’m on fire by the everamazing bruce spingsteen.. 🩷🩷💗🫂

geez... this got too fucking crazy but i hope you like this little playlist almost.. maybe ill make my 9th sterek playlist and its just these songs.... i hope u also see sterek thru these songs like i do.. 💕🎀🍒🧸❤️