#but guys I’ve ended up being right before

[goldfades]

idk if sb alr requested this but hayes being an absolute mamas boy

does not let his dada touch mama at all

here's one more for yall!

Maisie’s house was bustling—full of laughter, chatter, and the occasional sound of a football game playing in the background. Everyone was enjoying themselves, catching up, snacking on appetizers.

Everyone except Hayes.

Hayes was plastered to your side, tiny arms wrapped around your neck like a little koala. He had no interest in the conversation, in his cousins, in anything except keeping full body contact with you at all times.

And the second anyone tried to talk to you?

Oh, Hayes had a problem with that.

"Y/N, oh my god, you have to try this dip—" Maisie started, only to be immediately interrupted.

"No!" Hayes huffed, tucking his face into your shoulder like he was shielding you from her.

Maisie blinked. "Excuse me?"

You sighed, rubbing Hayes’ back. "Baby, Aunt Maisie’s just talking to Mommy."

Hayes lifted his head, giving Maisie a hard stare before turning back to you with wide, innocent eyes. "Mama."

Maisie snorted. "Oh, okay. I see how it is."

Joe was already grinning from his spot on the couch, shaking his head as he took in the scene.

Then Jamie walked in. "Hey, Y/N, can you pass me that—"

"NO!"

Jamie froze, looking between you and your tiny, overly possessive child.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, confused.

"Hayes," Joe called out from across the room, barely holding back his amusement. "You do know Mommy is allowed to talk to other people, right?"

Hayes frowned at him before turning back to you, his little hands gripping your shirt tighter like you were about to be ripped away from him.

"Ma-ma," he whined, clearly done with all these distractions.

You sighed, kissing the top of his head. "I’m not going anywhere, baby."

That seemed to satisfy him—until Dan’s wife, Lily, sat beside you and smiled.

"Y/N, have you seen that show on Netflix? I was just—"

"No!"

Joe burst out laughing as Hayes physically turned your face away from Lily’s direction, effectively cutting off the conversation.

Lily raised a brow. "Are you serious?"

Joe wiped at his eyes. "He’s so serious right now."

Maisie shook her head, grinning. "God, I hope this never ends. This is the best entertainment I’ve had in weeks."

But you were starting to get a little worried.

You tilted your head down at your son, who was nestled so firmly into you, it was like he was fused to your skin.

"Baby," you murmured gently. "Why don’t you go play with your cousins?"

Hayes shook his head violently, gripping you tighter. "No. Mama."

Joe, who had made his way over, crouched in front of you two. "Okay, buddy, I think it’s time to share."

Hayes glared at him.

Joe chuckled. "Okay, damn."

"You are in so much trouble," Maisie teased. "The minute she tries to leave for a girls' night? Disaster."

Lily nodded. "The first day of preschool? Catastrophe."

Jamie smirked. "Oh, and when he finds out you guys go on date nights without him?"

Joe winced. "Alright, enough."

But you were already imagining it, the meltdowns, the clinginess, the tantrums.

Still, as you rubbed slow circles into Hayes’ back, listening to his little content sighs, you couldn’t help but smile.

"Guess I’ve got another man in my life, huh?" you teased, glancing at Joe.

Joe groaned, shaking his head. "I don’t stand a chance."

And from the way Hayes smirked smugly into your neck, you knew Joe was right.

[runninriot]

Another Love

written for the @corrodedcoffinfest pop-up event It's Complicated

wc: 1.966 | rated: M | tags: past friends with benefits Eddie/Jeff, newly established Steddie, unrequited love, complicated feelings, mild hurt/comfort, friendship | also on ao3

   “Guys, this is Steve. Steve, these are the guys. My best friends, who will not embarrass me today. Right?”

Eddie laughs, tries not to let his nerves show by making a silly grimace in the direction of Gareth, who lovingly scoffs and rolls his eyes, says ‘You don’t need us for that, you’re pretty good at embarrassing yourself‘, just to be a little shit. And maybe that’s good, because it means they’re not pretending to be something they’re not. There’s no need to mask who they are in front of Steve, Eddie knows that.

He knows that, once they’ve warmed up to each other, they’ll get along just fine. But still, he can’t shake the funny feeling in his gut.

This is a big deal for him, finally introducing his boyfriend to the people who, apart from Wayne, mean most to him in this world. He wants, no, needs them to accept this new person in his life, because there is one thing he’s absolutely certain of – Steve is here to stay.

Gareth and Doug, being the lifesavers they are, immediately start wrapping Steve up in a conversation and it helps ease Eddie’s nerves a bit. But out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the tension in Jeff’s shoulders. Can sense his resentment of the situation even if Jeff is obviously trying his best not to show it.

He stands off to the side, pretending to tune his guitar which he’s definitely not. Eddie knows he’s already done that before even coming to the venue. Out of all of them, Jeff’s always been the closest to a professional.

It’s something Eddie admires, one of those things he loves about him.

Jeff and Eddie go way back, met long before Gareth and Doug entered the picture. They’ve been friends forever, through thick and thin, always together against the rest of the world.

He’d never admit it out loud but Jeff’s opinion matters most. And that’s not only because he’s his best best friend. It’s also because he doesn’t know what he’d do if Jeff didn’t give him his blessing. There’s so much at stake here, so much to possibly end in ruins. This is so much more complicated than just wanting his friend's approval - there's more to consider. More to fight for. So that's what Eddie is willing to do.

   “Hey, man,” Eddie claps Jeff on the back trying to act casual, ignoring the twisted knots in his stomach. “Can we talk?”

   “If it’s about your boyfriend, then no.”

Jeff takes a big swig from his beer, the look in his eyes unusually cold and distant.

   “Come on, man. I thought we agreed that-”

   “Well, I’ve changed my mind. Look, Eddie. I’m happy for you, I really am. But you cannot expect me to put on a brave face and pretend that this doesn’t fuck me up.”

His words slice through Eddie like a knife, sharp and quick, no mercy on his heart.

Eddie probably deserves it for thinking he could ignore the giant ass elephant in the room and simply wait it out. Wait for the problem to solve itself, for everything to go back to normal, back to easy. Because truth is, there is nothing easy about this.

Eddie knew from the start that this would be complicated, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t. He knew and yet, stupid as he is, he still hoped they could just... move on. Not forget but maybe lock up the memories of a different time and go back to how things were before. When they were just friends, no feelings involved. At least not those kind of feelings.

   “I’m sorry, Jeff,” he says, head tilted down to avoid his friend’s piercing gaze, “I know it’s-“

It’s what? Hard? Unfair? Well, yeah, obviously. At least from Jeff’s point of view. But what is Eddie supposed to do? He didn’t choose to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have feelings for Jeff, only they’re different now. Not that he ever-

It’s a cruel thought, even though it’s true. They both know it because Eddie never pretended to be in love when he wasn’t. Was he attracted to Jeff? Oh, absolutely. Otherwise they wouldn’t have ended up in bed together. More than once. And it wasn't just the prospect of easy sex that had Eddie coming back for more - it was the thought of falling asleep in Jeff's arms. To be held by someone who makes you feel safe and cared for. He loved the kisses and giggles and how okay it was to be vulnerable and open because there's nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to hide because Jeff already knows everything about him.

The problem is, while it had all started out as casual fun between mates, something changed over time. Something Eddie noticed too late or he would’ve ended it sooner. Jeff never told him about his feelings, so that’s on him, but it is just as much Eddie’s fault because- he should’ve known anyway. Should’ve noticed the shift. But he hadn’t. Or maybe he simply refused to acknowledge it. Selfishly ignored it until he couldn’t anymore.

When he met Steve, he instantly knew he needed to put his cards on the table and come clean about what this would mean for him and Jeff. Told him about this guy he likes – ‘Don’t know if it’s mutual but I’d like to give it a shot, see where it’s going. Maybe it’s nothing but maybe- I think he could be the one.’

And at first, Jeff seemed to be fine with that. Said he understood that they couldn’t hook up anymore. Said he’d miss the fucking but ‘Eh, whatever.’

Only it wasn’t whatever.

But Eddie was so lost in his own head, so caught up on Steve, Steve, Steve that he didn’t see what it was doing to Jeff. Didn’t notice him pulling away more and more until Gareth mentioned it. Asked if something had happened between the two because they were acting weird.

So, when he finally confronted Jeff, things seemed... okay. Better. At least that’s what he thought when Jeff told him he’d get over it, that he just needed some time to adjust. Promised Eddie that nothing had changed when it came to their friendship but right now, Eddie isn’t so sure about that anymore.

And it kills him.

Makes him lie awake at night because he can’t stop thinking about all the worst possible outcomes. What if this breaks up the band? What if Eddie loses his best friend?

   “I don’t want to lose you, Jeff.”

    You’re up in five, someone calls from the side of the stage and Eddie knows this is the worst possible timing for a heart-to-heart. They should be getting ready, he should be talking to his boyfriend who he abandoned and left with people he doesn’t really know, in a place he’s never been to before. But he can’t step away, can’t leave it like that, not when Jeff still hasn’t said anything.

   “I need you. You’re my best friend and I- I love you.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, to use this word, this feeling that is the cause for this mess and the reason for Jeff’s pain. But it’s the right word nonetheless, because it’s the truth. Eddie loves him. Maybe not like he loves Steve but different from the way he loves Gareth and Doug. This love goes deeper than friendship, soul-deep.

   “I love you. You’re important to me and I know- I know you're hurt and I am sorry but I can’t change that my heart belongs to Steve.”

Eddie can’t stop, knows he should because right now, he’s only talking himself deeper into the hole he dug for himself. But he refuses to lie, refuses to try to appease Jeff with false hope – he needs to know where they stand. And if that means Jeff will tell him to fuck off, if that will be the end of their friendship, then-

   “I hate you.”

Eddie’s heart stops at Jeff's words, eyes filling with tears as he braces himself for the biggest regret he'll ever have in his life.

   “I hate you so much for even thinking you could ever lose me!”

They’ve got eyes on them now, Eddie can feel it, but he doesn’t care. Can’t, not when Jeff moves closer, taking one of Eddie’s hands to place it on his chest, right above his heart.

   “It hurts. It fucking hurts. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends anymore.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say, just sniffs and blinks away the tears blurring his vision.

   “It’ll take some time for me to... get over this. But you and me, we’re bound for life, man. So don’t you ever think you’re getting rid of me. You hear me, asshole?”

Jeff smiles at him and even though there’s still sadness in his eyes, Eddie can feel that he means it.

   “Uh... sorry to interrupt but, um, they said you’re up next so I-“

When Eddie turns to the voice coming from behind, he finds Steve standing there, hands in his pocket, nervously looking to the side.

   “I’ll be down there somewhere. Have- have fun.”

Steve’s about to turn around, ready to step away but Eddie can't let him go like that, so he stops him.

   “Baby, wait!”

He looks back at Jeff, hoping, praying to find what he’s searching for in the other man’s eyes.

   “Go on, your boyfriend looks like he’s waiting for a kiss. Would be rude to leave him hanging.”

   “Are you gonna be mad at me if I do?” Eddie’s not asking for permission to kiss his boyfriend, not really. But he’s willing to tone it down around Jeff if that’s what it takes.

Jeff scoffs, lets go of Eddie’s hand and takes a step back.

   “So mad. But I’ll get to have you all to myself for the next 40 minutes so I guess it’s fine,” he jokes and it feels like a peace offering. Like maybe it’s the first step to better, before hopefully they can go back to how things were when everything was good, not complicated.

   “I love you,” Eddie says again just because.

   “Love you too, man. Now go take care of your man and then let’s get this fucking show started.”

Eddie nods, taking another moment to look at his best friend before walking over to Steve.

   “Everything good with you and Jeff?” Steve asks quietly as Eddie wraps his arms around his middle to pull him close.

   “I think it will be, yeah.”

Eddie's glad he never made a secret out of his past with Jeff, couldn’t bear withholding something so crucial from Steve. He needed him to know that no matter what, Jeff will always play an important role in his life. That if Steve wanted to be with him, he’d have to accept that there will always be a place in his heart that’s occupied by someone else.

Steve throws a look over Eddie’s shoulder and smiles to himself before leaning in to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

   “Is that all?” Eddie asks when his boyfriend pulls away, leaving him longing for more.

   “For now,” Steve confirms with a wink, “Your friends are waiting.”

With that, he wanders off into the crowd and Eddie, for the first time in weeks, feels a weight lift off his shoulders and heart.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated.

Maybe it just needs time and trust and mutual understanding.

He’s willing to try, willing to do everything to make this work

Because what he’s definitely not willing to do, is to give up one love for another.

[abbielauren2024]

Sonic 4 Scene Idea

Hey all! Just had the thought that maybe the opening scene of Sonic 4 could go something like this:

(Start scene)

Sonic: Who are you?!

Amy: Oh my gosh it’s you! It’s really you!

Sonic: Um… I noticed?

Amy: I’ve heard so much about you, Sonic the Hedgehog! And to think that I’m here and you’re here and you’re not dead…

Sonic: Sorry, who are you?

Amy: Oh sorry, I can get a bit ahead of myself.

(Amy takes off her cloak to reveal her in her pretty red dress. Sonic freezes, never having encountered a girl hedgehog before. Especially not one this pretty.)

Amy: I’m Amy Rose, it’s an honor to meet you, Sonic the Hedgehog!

Sonic: uh… um… *clears throat* nice to… meet you too… but how do you know me?

Amy: Well, where I come from, everyone knows about you! You were a legend!

Sonic: Yeah that sounds about right… wait, WERE?!

Amy: (Looks down sadly) Yeah… in the Great Battle with Mephiles, you… you never made it out. He was too powerful and devastated the world.

(Sonic looks like he’s seen a ghost and steps back, looking at his hands in horror.)

Sonic: I… die?

Amy: *tries to comfort him* But never fear, Amy Rose is here! I found you, didn’t I? And we won’t let it happen again.

Sonic: Yeah about that… how did you find me? If you’re from the future where I’m… you know… dead… then how did you know how to find me?

Amy: Well, you weren’t the first hedgehog I ran into.

(Amy steps to the side, and Shadow emerges from behind a tree.)

Sonic: SHADOW?!

Shadow: Greetings, Faker.

Sonic: Shadow!

(Sonic runs over and nearly knocks Shadow over with a hug)

Shadow: Woah woah, what was that for?

Sonic: I thought you were dead! I was so worried!

Shadow: *cocks his head* Why?

Sonic: You’re my friend, of course I care!

Shadow: Friend…

Amy: Yeah, I kinda thought he was you.

Shadow: This pink hammer-wielder ran up and tried to attack me.

Amy: I wasn’t trying to attack you! A hug is not an attack!

Shadow: You wrapped your arms around me and pinned my arms to my sides. How is that not an attack?

Amy: Okay that is seriously sad.

Sonic: Don’t worry… Amy… once everyone else sees that Shadow survived and he gets welcomed into the Wachowski family he’s gonna get all the affection he deserves! *Gasps* Oh my gosh we could be twins!

Shadow: No. Not gonna happen.

Sonic: Yes yes yes we could get matching beds and… and oh my gosh you even reawakened on my B-earth day, so we basically share it! We’re twinsies!

Shadow: The more you say the word ‘twin’ the harder I want to hit you.

Sonic: Like a true twin would!

Shadow: You little—

Amy: Guys, guys! We can work this out AFTER we save the world, got it?

Sonic: Yeah, I guess you’re right. We gotta stop that cosplaying tin can and his noobs first.

Amy: You mean Metal Sonic?

Sonic: NOW THAT’S JUST PLAGIARISM!!

Shadow: Who would want to imitate this faker?

Amy: He was a cyborg created by Dr. Robotnik…

Sonic/Shadow: EGGMAN?!?

Sonic: He survived?

Shadow: No one could’ve survived that explosion!

Sonic: The guy’s like a cockroach!

Amy: At least in my timeline, yes. He was alive and well until Mephiles claimed the Flames of Disaster.

Sonic: Wait wait… the Flames of Disaster?

Amy: Yes…?

Sonic: *Looks like he’s gonna be sick* How did Mephiles get the Flames of Disaster?

Amy: Well, Iblis was once sealed inside a vessel, a living being strong enough to never cry. But when a tragedy finally broke the spirit of this vessel the flames were released and set the world into the apocalypse.

Sonic: Knuckles!! We have to go!

Shadow: The echidna?

Sonic: Yes! He’s in danger!

(End scene)

Aaaaand, there you have it! Please don’t mind my rambling, but if you made it to the end of this you’re probably a nerd like me and dont mind lol. Also I had the thought that maybe in the movies they’ll have Knuckles replace Elise in the events of 06, since it showed him getting the Flames of Disaster, and everyone knows that Knuckles is not one to cry. Buuuuuut…. What is Knuckle’s deepest passion? Ding-a-Ling! Honor and family. So if one of his brothers—say maybe Sonic for example—was brutally killed in front of his eyes while he was helpless to stop it, chances are he would finally break *sobs*. Also, maybe Amy and Metal could be from the same future as Silver, Blaze and Mephiles, since I’ve heard there will be multi-verse and time-travel elements in Sonic 4.

Also idk if Jim Carrey will come back as Eggman, but I really hope he does! I don’t really think Metal can carry an entire movie as the villain like Eggman can, or maybe they’ll have Stone take Robotnik’s place. We’ll see! The movies haven’t disappointed me yet, so I doubt they will with such an excellent cast and crew.

Also I got the idea of Sonic and Shadow being twins from this incredible post here:

And also I kinda feel like Shadow and Sonic would act a lot like Donnie and Leo from Rise of the TMNT lol.

Let me know what you think :)

[vintagehomestuck]

fourfoottallassholeinsuspenders:

okay this ended up being really lame sorry guys i tried

—-

wake up in the morning feeling like geromy (uHH, hEY THERE) unstick my lips from the floor gonna make macaroni (optiic bla2t!!) before i leave floss my teeth and consider my meds because by the time i am done doc scratch will be dead

im talking killing off john again-gain dave’s death count is up to ten ten i’ve started some kind of trend trend so hot playing with flash movies feeling kind of groovy this is why they call me huuuussie

oh cocks watch that clock now the hussman hass the rock who will i kill today someone’s dying come what may doc scratch is an asshole but he’s only four foot tall, oh

oh cocks watch that clock now the hussman hass the rock who will i kill today someone’s dying come what may doc scratch is an asshole but he’s only four foot tall, oh

aint no comic like homestuck, its out of this world dont fuck with the empress, youre gonna get culled now you can buy a shirt and pretend youre dave strider do you think my strife specibi could be screwdriver

im talking trolls dying left and right right dropping like flies tonight night update, give readers a fright fright

no no its not over yet yet is lord english making you sweat sweat english making you sweat sweat english making you

oh cocks watch that clock now the hussman hass the rock who will i kill today someone’s dying come what may doc scratch is an asshole but he’s only four foot tall, oh

oh cocks watch that clock now the hussman hass the rock who will i kill today someone’s dying come what may doc scratch is an asshole but he’s only four foot tall, oh

fanbase i build your hopes then i crush them this is too much fun understand me?

pucker your lips up cause you want more you cant deny it understand me?

fanbase i build your hopes then i crush them this is too much fun understand me?

now dont be dumb pucker your lips up pucker your lips up

now the clocks wont stop til slick walks in

oh cocks watch that clock now the hussman hass the rock who will i kill today someone’s dying come what may doc scratch is an asshole but he’s only four foot tall, oh

oh cocks watch that clock now the hussman hass the rock who will i kill today someone’s dying come what may doc scratch is an asshole but he’s only four foot tall, oh

hussie tik tok (full version)

[averagespacekid]

the archivist 👁️

in the style of an anime screenshot because i say so.

SPOILERS FOR S5 OF TMA AHEAD‼️

heyo!! new hyperfixation time lesgo i’m killin it over here

i finished the magnus archives in about three weeks. it was an incredible experience lemme tell ya jonny sims and alex newall are gods among men

i love this depressed wet cat eyeball godbeing so much it hurts me. his voice has become my entire inner monologue. i think about him the instant i wake up and the second before i fall asleep.

him and his foggy soft sweater tea boyfriend restarted the fanfic addiction that i’ve been fully recovered from for two years. two years.

this is bullshit anyways have some art of him

here are some various progress shots of this guy, who took me surprisingly long to figure out how to draw.

he has no canon design, gang. none of these characters do. this scares me.

i tried to include all the scars he canonically has, but i apologize for my lack of knowing how to draw the scar from a worm fucking burrowing into your skin and i am not googling that thanks very much that’s fuckin terrifying

and here are some closeups because why not

i intend to draw his progression through the seasons at some point, but let’s just say in my head he went from a typical academic to… this thing pretty gradually

like, i headcanon him as having decently short hair at first just to be professional or whatever even though he prefers it longer, then season two hits and he just kinda forgets about it cause he’s too busy being paranoid and stalking his coworkers. he remembers again after the unknowing when he wakes up from his coma, but just kinda decides short hair is not worth the upkeep and buys a pack of hair ties that he then keeps on his person throughout the rest of the show, and ends up with something like this. maybe he has martin help him with it in various ways just to have an excuse for a domestic moment during the eyepocalypse, who knows

or maybe i just like drawing men with long hair ANYWAYS

if i were to serve a fear entity it’d probably be the eye ngl, because yknow i’m autistic and i must know everything about anything ever, or maybe the vast cause i love big empty spaces and big cities and buildings and the views from those buildings and idk if i see something big my first instinct is to pog face

the worst one for me is the corruption, 100%. i fucking HATE insects so much and its whole thing is yknow THAT and it fucking sucks i hated the noises they added when jane prentiss attacked holy hell i’m gonna stop thinking about it now

also what in the hell is the mechanisms and why do they keep showing up in fics as a band jon was in? are they real? because if i am able to hear jonny sims singing then goddamn i need that shit RIGHT NOW

n e ways that’s about it gang… see ya later 👁️

[beesonhoneytoast]

♡ valentine ♡

armin arlert x reader

a/n: i wanted to write a lil fic for my baby armin cos it’s love day!! i hope this isn’t too ooc for him ><

written to the lyrics of ‘valentine’ by laufey

cw: slightly jealous armin, weirdos tryna win your heart (and failing to do so miserably), friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, swearing, armin is inexperienced (but bless his heart he’s trying his best), armin nerds out about the sea, aot spoilers ofc, armin spirals a lil, hurt/comfort(?), crying, reader is kinda a bully but in a lighthearted way, this is kinda somewhere between the events of the timeskip

word count: 1.9k

you hadn’t been one to accept affections just because.

so, when a random scout came to hit you up, you had to politely decline.

you would’ve liked to say that was the end of it, but they were persistent that you be their valentine for today. yuck.

“cmon, hun. why don’t you give me a chance?” they teased you.

“i said no thank you.” you repeated yourself, your tone slightly wavering with the discomfort that this person brought you. you had turned your body away from them, shielding yourself from their pestering.

i’ve rejected affections for years and years

just as they were going to make some sort of advance on you, you were suddenly being defended by armin arlert.

he shoved himself between you and them. “hey, piss off why don’t you? they said they aren’t interested. so if you really do love them, i suggest you respect their wishes.” he demanded them.

the words rolled right off armin’s tongue, like the spirit of erwin had possessed him, and urged him to say those words. the thought hurt to think about. it made him think he really was trying to replace erwin.

oh god, this was awful. how could armin think himself like that? like he could possibly be on erwin’s level—

“armin?” your voice cut through the cyclone of anxiety ransacking his mind.

now i have it. and damn it, it’s kind of weird

his ocean eyes quickly snapped to look at you. “y/n? are you okay? they didn’t hurt you, did they? i swear, if that dirtbag laid a finger on your pretty face, i—”

armin’s words caught you off guard.

he tells me i’m pretty, don’t know how to respond

“woah, slow down, armin. i’m fine. thanks to you. so don’t worry that pretty blonde head of yours too much.” you chuckled, patting his shoulder.

i tell him that he’s pretty, too. can i say that? don’t have a clue

armin’s face reddened at your assurances and your touch. his lips pursed and his head ducked down shamefully, his eyes fixed on the floor.

with every passing moment, i surprise myself

“you got a valentine, armin?” you asked him, walking off with the blonde trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

“um… no. i don’t really… know how any of that stuff works. nor do i think anyone is really interested in being my valentine. especially not after what happened.” armin admitted.

you turned at this. you knew that the decision to save armin’s life was not one made without minor cost. but as you heard it, it seemed commander erwin was already dead before captain levi could even make a decision.

you had also heard that in the midst of armin becoming a titan, he had eaten bertholdt and gained the powers of the colossal titan. he never wanted this. he never asked for this. but it’s happened anyway.

and it was up to you to accept him for that.

i’m scared of flies, im scared of guys. someone please help

“armin, look at me.” you guided his chin up, his big blues fixing on yours.

“what is it?” he asked you with desperation on his words.

“what’s happened to you during the fight against bertholdt and reiner was completely outside of your control. but you know what was and what i think was very brave and very selfless of you? your willingness to die for your best friends. and i strongly believe eren and mikasa would say the same.” you wanted to drill these words into his brain. you weren’t about to just let someone as sweet and intelligent as armin get away with this self deprecation of his. not ever.

prickles of tears gathered on armin’s lash line. his head shook and his hands held yours at his cheeks. “y/n, why… why do you do this? why would you tell me all these pretty words?”

you used your thumbs to wipe away his tears as they tripped over armin’s lower eyelids. “because…” you started.

you thought of everything armin had gone through in the last several years. from being bullied as a kid, losing his family, being drafted in the army, having to watch his best friend be eaten by a titan and thinking he was killed, then with what happened in shinganshina with the fight against the armored and colossal titans… yeah, there was no way you were gonna let armin self destruct like this.

“you’re not just gonna be abandoned because you went through things that happened outside of your control.” you told him.

your words clearly touched armin, judging by the tears that now streamed down his blotchy red cheeks. his shoulders twitched, and his hands balled into trembling fists against your sleeve.

“armin, are you…” you began, but armin’s next action would be one to silence your worries.

he used his grip on your arms to pull you towards his body, his lips meshing with yours in a moment’s notice. his eyes were squeezed shut like he was bracing himself for the impact. as though his decision was rash and he didn’t know what he was doing. no, that wasn’t it. it was more like…

like he was scared you’d push him away.

but who were you to push him away? you wanted to pull him even closer, but he would pull away from you before you could even act on your thoughts.

fear flooded his wide eyes. “oh my god, i am… so sorry, y/n.. i—”

nope. you weren’t about to hear it. you grabbed him by the collar of his uniform shirt, your lips silencing any qualms about his actions.

armin’s hands trembled against your shoulders awkwardly. he had no clue where to put them. adorable. just adorable. he was such a dork and you loved him. he was such a romantically awkward dork.

your romantically awkward dork.

once you pulled away, armin seemed astounded. he stared off into space, blinking wordlessly for a few minutes.

“i… i don’t… why did you… do this?” armin panted, shaking his head slightly with his disbelief.

you chuckled at his oblivion. “i think a certain three words are in order to sort of… clarify things.” you leaned in towards his ear, tucking a strand of his blonde hair back behind armin’s ear. “i adore you.” you whispered against the shell of his ear.

the little gasp armin emitted didn’t go unnoticed. “you… what?”

you leaned back to look at his blushing face again. “i don’t think i need to repeat myself, arlert.” you tutted.

‘cause i think i’ve fallen in love this time

red gradually painted his skin from the inside, a high pitched squeal leaving him. “uhh… wow. okay… i’m… you… you…”

“you…?” you mocked him, the action lightheartedly intended.

“you… oh, you tease!” he whined, burying his face in his hands.

you cackled at his flustered mood, prying his hands from the hidden visage. “not my problem that you’re so fun to torment.”

“no fair, you’re so mean to me!” he whined, feigning hurt.

“yeah, i know. aren’t i just the worst? aren’t i your big bully?” you jeered, getting all up in his face.

armin pouts and crosses his arms. he was acting like a child. it was endearing, if anything. especially when he turned his back towards you.

“hey, now. don’t be like that, armin.” you scoffed, wrapping your arms around him from behind, not missing the little shiver of his body.

“be serious. why do you love me?” armin solemnly asked, turning back to you.

you exhaled through your nose at this, creating a sigh. getting to his heart would be hard. but you were willing to do it. “armin… you’ve gone through so much hardship over the years. but… that’s not why i love you. that alone would just be pity. see; you’ve always fought for what you believe in. you’ve fought for the livelihoods of your friends, your comrades, the commanders, strangers… and i can’t help but feel a sense of pride and affection when i look at you. the way you smiled that day on the beach; how you lit up at first sight of the vast, uncharted horizon we arrived on. you are intelligent beyond any means of comparison. your empathy and the grace you have displayed for others… your worry for even people like bertholdt who have committed atrocities. there’s just… so many things about you that i could say… so many attributes that i could admire… how could i not love you?”

the end of your monologue moved armin to more tears. a sob hitched in his throat.

you only offered him a sympathetic smile, not saying a word as you opened your arms to him.

armin was reluctant to accept this embrace, even though his earlier actions were bold. but he did eventually step towards you and allowed himself to receive your affection. he was tense, but he would soon allow himself to relax when he assessed the situation to be safe. he was safe. he was home.

you both haven’t the faintest idea of how or when, but you suddenly were slow dancing in one of the common areas, soft love songs playing on the gramophone.

then you found yourselves frolicking amongst the couples on the streets of this seaside town.

armin treated you with any sweet or savory treats you wanted, and you would find a peculiar little stand.

it sold bouquets of what you thought were flowers you’d never seen before.

but as you got closer, you realized they weren’t flowers; they were seashells.

you of course had to know of armin’s affinity for the sea, so it would be a crime not to get him one of them.

you were lucky you had caught armin in a moment where he was distracted and observing another stand, so you took advantage of his distraction to purchase one of the ornate bouquets and held it behind your back.

when armin turned back to face you, he immediately took notice of your hidden arm.

“y/n… what are you hiding from me?” he wondered.

“hiding? pfft, what would i be hiding from you?” you dismissed him in a way that intentionally made you so obvious. you just wanted to rile him up first, and pique his interest.

“y/n, come on!” he giggled, the little sound echoing in your brain like it was a song sung in an empty church.

“okay, pushy pants.” you submitted to his nosiness and presented the shell bouquet to him.

immediately he was hyperfocused on the present. “wha- a bouquet of… shells?” he furrowed his eyebrows at it, clearly struggling to see the fact that it was no ordinary bouquet. he took it up into his grasp and observed the different shells that formed the bouquet.

“those are worm snail shells… conus… miter…” god damn it, he was really gonna start nerding out and start naming all the types of shells here, wasn’t he?

you couldn’t help the little snicker that flew from your mouth.

“what?” armin whined defensively.

“you’re such a dork.” you shook your head laughing heartily.

“i know, i just love the sea…” he muttered sheepishly.

“but hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. i think it’s pretty cute, honestly.” you added, not giving him room to argue.

you made your way to the beach, armin still cradling his new shell bouquet against the crook of his elbow.

you both sat on the shoreline, your shoes and socks were discarded so you could soak your feet in the crawling waves.

now the sun was just sinking below the horizon line, so that it may rise for those on the other side.

for the people that you and armin longed to meet, who were now waking up for the day.

you wanted to know if they really would treat you as monsters and traitors who abandoned them for the titans to take.

but as for today… you’d rather not think too much on that.

you and armin shuffled so you were sat side to side on the soft sand of the beach, leaning on each other. your fingers intertwined together on the cool sediment.

i blinked then suddenly, i had a valentine…

story written by @beesonhoneytoast

characters belong to attack on titan: 進撃の巨人 © 2009

[redux-iterum]

this might be silly to ask here, but i think you guys give neat advice! i don't know if either of you have experienced this yourselves, but if you have, how do you get over writing anxiety? i find that i place too much value in validation and will sometimes talk myself out of writing something because i fear it's imperfect. is this something either of you have dealt with? if so, how did you get over it?

Perfectionist anxiety is a bitch, and this very much sounds like it! The main piece of advice I can give here is to embrace the truth that things you make sometimes won’t be amazing, and will never be perfect. Perfection is a lie creatives tell themselves is achievable. It simply isn’t. All perfectionism can do is keep you from being happy during the process of making art. It will never do anything else. The concept of “perfect” is your enemy. It’s just going to make you miserable the whole time you’re writing or painting or whatever, because you know what you’ll get isn’t perfect, and you’re striving for it anyway, so you aren’t having fun. And really, that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? Fun?

The main thing that’s saved me from reworking stuff over and over again is a lesson I’ve learned, which is being able to say to yourself, “Well, it’s not exactly how I wanted it to be. I don’t know if I like this one. Oh well. Moving on.” There is an immense power in “oh well, moving on” that will keep you creating even when you make something you actively hate. That’s not to say you shouldn’t strive for improvement, nor should you not attempt to do your best. What the goal here is, is the ability to step back from your need for perfection, look over what you’ve made, and be able to both critique it and accept its flaws, and then head off to the next thing. “Fuck it” is your greatest tool here. Ain’t the next Lord of the Rings? Fuck it. Next story.

Take it this way: you’ve learned something new every time you catch a flaw in your writing, which means you’ll do better next time. You are always scaling up in quality as long as you’re seeking to improve. Again, you will never be perfect, but you will be better than you were before. That’s something to celebrate, not scold yourself for! And the only way to do that is to say “fuck it” and keep writing. You can’t think yourself into greatness. You have to create okay stuff first and learn from those mistakes.

As for validation: attention from strangers is nice, but there’s a good exposure therapy in posting something and receiving crickets over and over. You get used to it and gradually learn to lessen its value in your head. I’ve personally been able to adjust to not getting much attention on my personal projects and art that I love so dearly, and just moving forward anyways, because I’m excited to do it, and that’s whose opinion I should care about. It’s the love of the game at this point for me. Importantly, it’s been able to teach me to find the true value in art, which is the process of creation, not the creation itself. I utterly adore making things, to the point that I don’t even really care about the end product anymore or the attention it may or may not get. Sure, I want it to be good and get notes, but what’s the point if I’m not enjoying myself while making it? What’s the value in perfection and attention when I’m miserable because that's all I'm doing this for? I’m the one that loves these characters and this setting the most, right? What else can I do but serve them as best as I can, and keep going as long as I need to? It's no loss if the entire internet doesn't love it the way I do. I'm creating it, and that makes me happy. What else need there be?

That’s how I think of it, at least. I hope this helped a little.

[richarlotte]

Something you did to succeed?

When I first got to LA and I didn’t really know anyone on campus yet, my Big made me go to a party with her. It was filled with Thornton and SDA boys, and while I’ve never really been into musicians or actors, sometimes you have to work with what you’re given and have a good time. Creating connections with people my age was heavy on my mind when I first got to campus, and I wanted more social opportunities. 

I ended up on a couch, in a completely one-sided conversation with a real Jack Antonoff-type character, and I couldn’t relate to a single thing he was saying. He’d bring up producing or curating playlists, talk (brag) about his deal, or drop names every other second while I sort of just sat next to him and nodded along halfheartedly while trying not to spill my drink.

I know me, and I know what I can relate to. I felt his energy, tuned in to what he was talking about, and realized that we’d both spent our lives working hard to feel good enough, sacrificing, and being pushed to the limit, and he had a vicious ambition and desire to succeed. As he was talking about producing, I finally interrupted him and said, “Have you seen Whiplash? I feel like you’d love it. It’s one of my top ten favorite movies,” and his eyes immediately sparked up. 

All it took was knowing a few cultural references, being able to read the room, listening, and waiting before I spoke to unlock an entirely new side of the guy I was talking to. As soon as I asked him about Whiplash, he said, “What was your name again? Charlotte?” and I was in good. I wasn’t into him, but I wanted to get to know him and his people, so I stayed sat and matched his energy since I knew he was important to know. 

I left the party early, didn’t give him my number, and told him I’d accept his follow request once I got home, and went to bed instead of answering his DM. He asked people about me for weeks after, reached out to invite me to things, asked me to dinners, invited me to attend a premiere with him as his guest, made me playlists, and got me a Coachella pass after seeing me post about never having gone to the festival before.

I was in the room not long ago with my Big, and she brought him up and said, “You know he still talks about you, right? He’ll bring you up unprovoked and say that you’re so cool and know all the references” when really all I know is how to time things right, keep my voice and eye contact nice and steady, and hold myself well. The key for me is being passionate but careless too.

I prioritized making connections because I know where my strengths lie, and I know I thrive when I’m given the opportunity to be social. Success in Los Angeles hinges on who you know, and I’ve made so many friends, found opportunities, had new experiences, and had the chance to experience more life through getting to know more people. Connections are key in Los Angeles, and it’s incredibly important to become comfortable talking to and meeting new people as early on as you can so that you have a shot at success.

[ashes-writing-corner]

Well nevermind I guess I'm updating today yall XD

This is probably my shortest chapter to date but it's like really important and I kinda wanted to be it's own thing. I hope you guys don't mind lore dumps here but...wanted to give some insight to Orlok's backstory here. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, @landlockedmermaid77, @uncensored-aj, @mypackpride, @whisperingwillowe, @sasksdemorg, @emimuart, and @fern-and-bone

If you wanna be added to the taglist let me know! Enjoy!!!! ^-^

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 8

I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending…

He came so close, so close. Too close. Too close to spilling everything. It was so tempting, so damn tempting. But Orlok couldn’t let himself be tempted. He couldn’t let himself face everything. It was pain that led him to this. He would not let that pain infect her too, anymore than it already did.

His pain started all of this. His grief…

No. No it wasn’t his pain. It wasn’t his grief. It was his ambition. Then it was his grief. Then it was pain. An all consuming pain that he couldn’t dare speak of…

He had tried so hard. So hard to defy his own nature, his own being for his beloved Mirela. He loved her, loved her more than power, more than anything in all the worlds. His first true, real love. She loved him as well, but fearing for his well being, she only agreed to marry him if he gave up his sorcerer’s ways.

So he did.

For a time, anyway.

But nobody could defy their nature. Not him, not anyone. Mirela, his sweet, adoring Mirela, fell ill after giving him his greatest treasure: their child, a little girl Ileana. As hard as he tried to defy his nature, to escape his fate, It came back with a fearsome vengeance. Fate, God, whatever the higher powers who cursed him so, denied him his happiness, his future.

Mirela passed of her fever, and Ileana shortly after. Liev Orlok died with them, as he lost himself once more in his drive to find a spell to bring back his lost family. But no spell could resurrect the dead, at least not as they were. No Solomonari could bring the dead back to life. Despite everything, countless nights spent searching and going half mad with exhaustion and pain, all that he was was lost to him forever.

He had loved, and love only brought pain with it. He couldn’t save them. He had no right to mourn them. The rest of his days were spent in cruelty, returning to his previous dark ways in full force in an attempt to drown out that ever so present ache. He left Mirela and Ileana in the past, where they belonged. From their deaths to his own years later, he was only the Count, the Demon…nothing more. Nothing less.

But he couldn’t find his rest or reprieve even in death. His wicked ways, his power preserved what was left of him, and once again he was cursed by whatever higher, or perhaps lower, powers there were. Damned to walk the night eternally, to never see or even hear his loved ones again. It was less than what he felt he deserved but it was punishment enough.

And perhaps that’s what this place was. A place of punishment. A place to be reminded of all that he lost. It made sense, too much sense really. Hell? It may as well be at this point.

Orlok stopped in front of a door, one he never wanted to open again, to a room he never wanted to set foot into again. He was alone, the hounds were still with Ellen. His long fingered hand briskly touched the knob and then pulled back.

No…not today. Not this time. He couldn’t.

The vampire turned away from the door only to stop dead when he heard the soft cries of a baby inside. He knew those cries, reminding him of the fleeting time he had with his daughter. How he had tried to keep her alive and failed. The nights spent with her, trying to keep her little body warm as she suffered from illness. Her short little life had been nothing but pain, and he could do nothing to stop it, to take that pain away. All he could do was endure it with her, hoping his presence offered some sort of cursed comfort to his baby daughter. She passed early in the morning before sunrise, before he woke. He was in the room, but had left her alone. More or less, Ileana had died alone because of him.

Orlok shuddered, visibly shaken. It took a lot to unnerve him. As a solomonari, he had seen, heard of, and done things that would make many brave ones falter. But the voice of his late wife, the cries of his daughter…that was what struck him most.

The constant reminder of his failure was what unnerved him most. The little stuffed bear sat by the door when he looked again, as if attempting to entice him inside. It was slumped innocently, sadly, on the floor. He hadn’t placed it there…at least not that he remembered. Orlok growled at the thing, Not trusting it to be something real, though he’d held it many a time in those moments of weakness.

His daughter’s cries grew louder and the Count tore himself away from the door. He would not falter today.

Not today. Not ever if he could help it.

He was a monster. Monsters, he reminded himself, were not entitled to grief. Pain was their due, and it would suffice him as it had for centuries. It was bitter but it was the least he deserved. He kept walking away, the cries becoming distant in his ears until finally he was far enough away they couldn’t reach him. He breathed hard, closing his eyes tightly. Orlok felt a sharp, tight pain in his chest, and when he looked again, the little stuffed bear was in one of the chairs by the fire, still slumped over, sad and innocent.

“Îmi pare atât de rău iubiera mea…”

Short but kinda heavy! Hope you guys liked. If you enjoy this please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. If you wanna see more of my work please follow ^-^ thank you soooooo much guys ^^

[none-tadashi-left-hiro]

Is my toxic trait psychoanalyzing other people and thinking I’m the exception because I’m actually soooo observant and aware of the signs

[sunmisbf]

i miss woodz

[crossbackpoke-check]

Sat politely ankles crossed hands folded please say you have more thoughts about the DC deweys. Lazarus pit cold-eyed stare pristine and bloodthirsty anyway I would love to hear any further thoughts if you have the time + energy + motivation

how i imagine you waiting for me to re-read the resurrection of ra’s al-ghul and hush vol. 1+2:

ALRIGHT. in no particular order, thoughts about the dc deweys

connor fits very well into the mold of a talia al-ghul for me; chip on his shoulder, femme fatale, deadly and precise. he’s not the loudest but he’s got a dry wit that’ll cut you!

“why is connor an al-ghul at all and not batman” well first of all he’s already got the water connection, i’m gonna go dip him into the lake a couple hours north of the pas to make him incredibly long-lived, rejuvenated and beautiful

second of all i want him to be a questionable villain/antihero because he looks evil in those pictures but like beautiful evil. you see him at a multi-million dollar soirée and he’s bored of being there wearing his “heritage” beads and jewels he originally had from a thousand years ago. he and his assassins are only here to murder the head of state who’s planning to lay a pipeline through ancestral grounds

rip brandon duhaime i simply cannot imagine you as any kind of batman. lacks the gravitas, too much of a yapper, loves his wife too much. i curse thee to be green arrow if you’re in this narrative at all

assuming connor stays with toronto, would LOVE to think about toronto as one of the sites of the lazarus pit for many reasons

(a brief aside here to say that for me personally this is interesting if connor goes to winnipeg because i think they suit him better, he’s a manitoba boy, but re: the chip on his shoulder, he’s NOT a manitoba boy. he’s from the pas and very proud of it)

a) the amount of ‘toronto is the center of the universe’ hockey creation myths i can play with & birth/rebirth/reincarnation. if you WANT to feel unhinged trying to blend hockey and comics is an ice rink not just a pool of water?

b) mr. cathal kelly i love your works!!! toronto eats its young!!! thinking about this very literally in the sense of the resurrection arc where players come to toronto and are sacrificed, give up their body, their skill, in service of the demon’s head, and lose themselves.

c) we see echos of the same narratives and styles over and over again—if i can hop over to the flyers for a second, there is of course the curse of the *8s (18 richards, 28 claude, 48 danny b, 68 nolan, 88 lindros) but ALSO the danny brière -> tk -> morgan frost celly chain. every generation a resurrection, emerging clean and new from the pit

can you just briefly hold my hand and imagine wayne gretzky as an evil ra’s al-ghul wanting to possess a new body. gretzky i’m sorry to malign you and i know you never played in toronto but you are the best player in my head to fit the idea, i’m open to other suggestions

coming BACK to green arrow dewey (i did not re-watch arrow or re-read those comics sorry) connor could also be black canary, who takes a brief dip into the lazarus pit (toronto) before getting married to oliver. i do like that narrative but because we were talking about pristine and cold-blooded i figured connor dewar head of the league of assassins was more what you were after

now that i’ve gotten through world building… choose your own adventure narratives?

hockey-ish au: connor chosen as a host for the Next One. i think the lineage of the great one -> next one -> next next one -> next one up of gretzky -> crosby -> mcdavid -> bedard is taken, BUT i can imagine that the league of old boys all have the same intentions. connor gets sent to toronto unknowingly being prepped to get body-snatched by ???? and brandon duhaime of course accidentally stumbles on the plot and they have to fight to stop it

connor assassinating people :) snapshot of the head of the league of assassins delegating which major world events they’re going to change today. would love his shark face from the gifset to have blood spattered across it, ideally.

version 1 as head of the league of assassins: brandon is one of his assassins, big strong bodyguard type. devoted to him, would lay down his life, perfectly designed for connor (lady shiva/cassandra cain-ish). connor orders for something to be done and brandon does it there for him then gently wipes the blood off his face and apologizes for being careless and getting him messy.

version 2 as head of the league of assassins: an actual plot where connor aims to assassinate SOMEONE but brandon gets in the way. they meet at odds as their respective roles (hero, leader of a crime syndicate) but are magnetically drawn together as their alter egos. eventually brandon puts together the pieces of the Big Evil and manages to (legally!-ish as much as vigilante-ism can be legal) take it down and the ending panels show a tentative friendship and recognition of potential shared goals

also, jaromir jágr is immortal. don’t know if this is relevant OR related but he is. personal hot spring lazarus pit?

um. thanks for coming to my 1.5k ted talk (including tags). what a way to moritz seider lore drop that i DID grow up a comic book nerd, lmao. thank you so much for enabling me <3 i'll be here all week thinking about which teams would get what rings in a blackest night au

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Good enough

Tags: Caleb x fem!Reader, smut, unprotected angry sex, Caleb’s back and he’s jealous, breeding kink, mdni, not proofread sorry, this shit is NASTY i fear.

An: This one is for a dear friend of mine 🙂‍↕️ Thanks for making me pull out of my writer’s block. LOOK i’m so sorry if this is bad but i had to write SOMETHING to pull me out of this funk… i hope you all enjoy

How did you end up trapped underneath your half-cyborg best friend who was legally deceased while taking the meanest deep strokes of your life? Well, there’s a simple answer. Caleb knew Xavier was home.

Actually, he knew everything: the dates, the tender moments, the secret times, the nightly rendezvous. Pissed was an understatement.

Had you forgotten? Had you forgotten all the promises you two made each other when you were younger? Had you forgotten that you were fucking made for him? You had to have. That’s why you were stringing along 4 different guys. You were trying to fill a hole that only he could fill.

That had to be why.

Regardless, Caleb knew Xavier was the type to listen to you through the floorboards of his upstairs apartment. He was a lot alike Caleb in that sort of manner. They were both possessive freaks who couldn’t stand the thought of you being with somebody else.

That’s why Caleb was fucking you so hard — pounding your pretty pussy so deeply into the mattress that you were seeing stars with each mean thrust.

He used his size to his advantage. It was fitting. He’d always loved how much bigger he was than you. That’s how you received your adorned nickname: pipsqueak.

He planned on his first time with you being a lot more gentle than this. He planned on being sweet and loving. He planned on cherishing your body the way you deserve, but you just had to go and give yourself to 4 other guys before him.

“Stop crying.” His voice rumbled as his piercing gaze found yours — so much different than the sweet childhood friend you had. His hand covered your mouth as he hunched over your figure, still ramming his cock head into you ruthlessly. “I know you can take it. I’ve watched you take it before.”

Your eyes blinked back tears as you looked up at him. He was being so mean. You couldn’t believe this was the same doting Caleb that you grew up with, and you didn’t even want to think about the face he had been watching you…

“Fucking pussy’s made for me, and you’ve been letting other men try to make her feel good.” He growled as he used his less-than-human arm reach down and gently rub against your small button of nerves.

“Caleb-!” You choked out as your body writhed beneath him. You could feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock splitting you apart, making you wholly his and his alone.

“That’s right… Say my name, baby. Tell me who’s making you feel so good.” He prompted with a confident smirk before he hauled your legs up above his shoulders, sinking even deeper into your dripping cunt.

Clawing at the bed, your back arched as you tried to cope with the intrusion. He’s so fucking deep it feels like you’re going to choke on him. “Caleb-“ You sob as your cunt pitifully clenches around him.

Feeling you wrapped around him so sweetly, crying out his name as you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure has Caleb revitalized with a new vigor. His hips work in tight circles, pumping his fat cock in and out of you as your cunt makes the most obscene squelching noises he’s ever heard.

“Such a fucking noisy girl. I should’ve know you were going to be a crybaby.” He teased before placing open mouth kisses along your neck snd shoulder.

“W-wait Caleb- calebcalebcaleb. I’m gonna..” You pant out nervously as his metal fingers were still rubbing languid circled around your cunt, and his tip was smooshing globs of precum against your cervix.

His fingers suddenly pinch down on your clit, making you cry out from the sensation. Your body went taut as you were being dangled on the edge of pleasure. His robotic arm wasn’t quite letting you get there.

You thought his arm was literally malfunctioning until you heard him chuckle from your suffering.

“You’re going to cum when I saw you can, okay baby?” He asked in that same condescending tone he always used when you two were younger.

His hips continued to roll after he was sure that you weren’t going to fall off the deep end, and he let out deep guttural groans, feeling your pretty pussy soak him. It was like you were practically trying to suck him in. He couldn’t believe he had waited this long to sink into your cunt like this.

and the best part about it was he knew your stupid upstairs neighbor was listening! Xavier knew you were down here getting railed, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Hell, if he even tried, Caleb would use his evol and force him kneel beside the bed as he drilled you even harder.

Fuck, the thought of slutting you out in front of every single one of your little boyfriends had his stomach tightening. His hips snapped forward into you with a pace that could only be described as feral.

You were a complete babbling mess at this point — utterly cock drunk as Caleb had you folded in half, filling you up to the brim with his length.

“Ohhh, that’s my girl.” He purred as he saw your glossed over look. “It’s coming, baby. I’m going to give you want you need.” He promised as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that completely contradicted the ruthless way his hips were rutting into you.

“C-caleb- Caleb no, wait.. Don’t cum inside-“ You stuttered out in a panic. You hadn’t been by the pharmacy yet to pick up birth control, so technically, this was all unprotected.

“Why?” He growled as his back curled over. He was fucking mounting you while holding your thighs in the prettiest mating press he’d ever seen. “You fucking let them fill you up. Am I not good enough to breed this pussy?”

His hips slammed into you. It felt like he was trying to push his way straight into your womb. It was mind-numbing pleasure, making black orbs and stars dance across your vision.

“Look at me, baby.” He ordered, dragging your face to look back up at him. You could barely see straight. It was all too much. “You’re going to let your best friend breed you, and you’re gonna fucking love it. You’re going to cum all over this fat cock until you can’t breathe. Understand?”

You dumbly nodded your head, halfway hearing his words. Your pussy was aching to cum. Your swollen puffy folds were greedily accepting him in with every thrust. You wanted this. Birth control be damned. Everyone else be damned.

Caleb gritted his teeth together as he gave you a few more good harsh thrusts for good measure. He then crushed his body against yours, burying himself all the way to your womb before his cock started to jerk and pulse inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his thick potent cum. The only thing on his mind was the need to see you, his childhood best friend, round with his baby.

He needed to see the look on each other of those pricks’ faces when they realized you were spoken for.

The cherry on top was when he felt your walls clenching around him, happily milking his cock for everything he had while you sobbed and hiccuped his name. It seemed like his childhood best friend was maybe just as twisted as he was. He’d have to give her an extra good reward for being such a good girl.

As the room went still and quiet — only filled with shared breaths and pants for air, the sound of someone stabbing a sword through the ceiling was heard, and Caleb chuckled deeply. He had definitely pissed Xavier off.

[readwritealldayallnight]

“And you ladies are goin’ to be alright?”

“Oh yeah, cabbie’s on his way for us. You go ahead and get this one home.” Your friends giggle as they take their turns hugging you goodbye, the process taking nearly ten minutes thanks to the never ending drinks you’ve all had tonight.

It was a rare night out for you, celebrating a friends birthday at a bar with your girl gang. With your busy schedules, it was difficult to find time to get together as often, and when you did, your friends went hard. Shot after shot, drink after drink, you’d definitely been beyond tipsy for a while now.

Simon, who had come to pick you up at the end of the night, was thoroughly entertained by the sight of his intoxicated little sweetheart, all giggly and rosy cheeked. Making sure your friends has their own safe way of getting home, he slipped an arm around your waist, wanting to prevent your stumbling legs from landing you face first on the bar floor, and led you towards the exit.

“Oh my gosh.” You giggle, your own arm trying to wind behind his large muscular back. “Simon I’m so happy you’re heeeeeeere! I missed you so much.”

“S’that right?” He humours you, holding the door open with his side as he manages to steer you out of the building and out to the car park. “You an’ the girls have only been out for a few hours, lovie.”

“Well it was a flew, no a few! It was a few hours too long!” You drunkenly mumbled, making Simon’s smile widen, his mind already going over the different painkillers in your bathroom cabinet he could give you in the morning for the hangover you were sure to get. “A few hours too many, away from my Si guy! I don’t like not being with youuuuuu.”

“I know, lovie, I don’t like being apart either. But you’re allowed to have fun with the girls every once in a while.” He attempted to reason with you, fishing a hand into his jacket pocket in search of the keys. “You had fun, right?”

“Yeeesssss… but I like you! So much!”

“I like you too.” He chuckled at you. “If ya had fun s’all that matters. And I’m here now aren’t I? Said I’d come get ya.” He adds, tightening his grip around you in emphasis, not wanting to shake you too much, unsure as to exactly how many drinks you had.

“Oh my gosh that’s so nice to say…” you began drawling on before your feet came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Simon to stumble forward himself as he stopped alongside you. “Wait…” you mumbled, eyes glancing ahead at the familiar sight of Simon’s truck. “Are you driving me?”

He can’t help but to softly chuckle to himself again, completely endeared by the way drunken you has your face scrunched up in consideration, apparently having forgotten that between the two of you, Simon would in fact be the one behind the wheel.

“I am.” He replies simply, watching you process his words.

“Okay, well, I just need to call Soap first.” You mumble, trying to pull your phone out of your back pocket with great effort.

“What’ya need to call that tosser for?” Simon asked, now the one feeling confused.

“I’ve just never actually written a will, and if you’re driving then I think I should probab- ahh!” You squeal as Simon scoops you up over his shoulder, swatting a large hand against the plump of your behind, covering the short distance to the passenger side.

“Yeah yeah, very funny, cheeky girl.” He says, opening the door and helping you into the seat before buckling you in, a smile on his face the entire time. He comes around to his side and hops in the drivers seat, starting up the engine. As he starts to pull out of the parking and back onto the main road, Simon glances towards your figure huddled up in the passenger seat, already singing along to the first thing that came up on the radio, and wonders to himself just how much you’ll remember in the morning.

The last time he’d drank with you, you were completely out of business the next day, saying that you could hardly remember a thing from the night prior, and even then he wasn’t sure you were as intoxicated as you were currently. Deciding to have a bit of fun and take a chance Simon asks you:

“Hey lovie?”

“Mhm?”

“When I ask ya to marry me, what do ya think you’ll say?”

“Uh, I will say YES! Duh!” You reply, the answer obvious to you no matter what state you’re in. However, because you are in fact drunk, you then add “and then I’m gonna get down on my knees too Si, and I’m gonna give you the best bestest head in the whole world actually is what I will do.”

“Hm, okay.” He answers casually, keeping the urge to laugh contained for a bit longer, wanting to keep teasing you. “And uh, how many kids do you think you’re gonna want us to have?”

“Simon,” you playfully sing song to him, angling yourself to face towards him and reaching a finger out to try and poke his cheek, landing more towards his shoulder. “Do you have feelings for me or something?”

“Or somethin’” he says quickly, “Come on lovie, how many babies am I puttin’ in ya, hm?”

“Mmm, at least two I think. So that at Halloween, Simon oh my gosh, at Halloween! We can do a family costume and all be ghostbuste-”

“We’re not gonna be ghostbust-”

“We will be ghostbusters.” You nod to yourself, glancing away from him as his opinion is no longer valid, before changing your mind and looking at him with all the love you can muster at that moment. “Simon, it sounds like you liiiiiiiike meeeee.” You attempt to tease. “You wanna get married? And have babies?”

“‘Course I do, lovie.”

“You think about that?”

“Every day.”

“Every day?”

“Mhm.” He confirms, sending you his own loving look.

“Well you better get me my ring then mister, cause I like yoooouuu too.” You giggle, before gasping as the song changes and starting to sing along.

He watches you in the passenger seat, a content smile upon his face as he listens to you singing without a care in the world, unaware that Simon has had your ring picked out and purchased since your first kiss. He’s just been waiting for the right time to ask you. And now that you’ve unknowingly given him your own blessing, he’s not so sure he can wait much longer.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.