#but whoever wants to is welcome to share their experience

[dutybcrne]

One of the quickest ways to get heart eyes out of Kaeya (or at the very least, hold his attention and get him in a good mood regardless of what it was prior to it) is to rant something to him. If the person shows exceptional knowledge in their subject, he would be absolutely end up hanging onto every word they say. He likes seeing the faces people make when they talk about things that especially interest them/they specialize in and the upside is he gets to learn something new. How can he ever say no to that?

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (Dilf!Simon, your next door neighbor, reader’s around early 20s, Simon’s around late 30s~early 40s) pt.2

Just retired and move into a new flat, Simon doesn’t expect someone to knock on his door when he’s unpacking his belongings. With slight annoyance, he opens the door and try to dismiss whoever is out there.

His annoyance vanishes quickly when he lays eyes on you, young, gorgeous, gazing up at him with a baggy shirts barely cover the sweat-shorts. The simple apron on the outside looks incredible on you, the fabric of it rises and taut around your chest. Greeting him with a grin and hand him a plate of biscuits. A welcome gift for the new neighbor, you explain to him before leaving with a wave, hips swaying tantalizingly as you saunter back to your flat and close the door behind you.

He becomes closer to you each day, helping you without a word when one day he hears noises from the staircase outside, swings open the door of his flat and discovers you struggling with the heavy groceries bags. When you sheepishly knock on his door again, holding a screwdriver and fidgeting it, telling him you have some issues with assembling the new bookshelf you bought, he already starts his steps and walks into your flat, finish the work in minutes while you circling around cutely and trying to help like a desperate puppy.

To express your thankfulness to him, you invite him to have dinner with you, become a habit of yours when he shoots you a glance with a ‘Not bad.” but devours your home cooked meal like a man starved for days.

Sweet, beautiful girl, a year before graduating from college, expressing your insecurity about your future when he hinted that you can share your worries with him—a person who has much more experience than you— a while ago, he provides some insight and rational advice, swallowing back the words he’s been thought about for months now: Slide the silver ring on your ring finger with his name name engraved on it, makes you his missus and away from all shites the society is boiling everyday. A man alone for years and has low material desires, he has the money to take care of and spoil you without any hesitation.

He’s been fisting his cock whenever he hears your moans coming from the other aide of the wall. Hell, you don’t know how shitty and thin the walls are, the soundproof ability of them is imperceptible when it comes to louder sounds. Simon listens closely to the sounds, closing his eyes, head leans back on the armchair, trying to imagine how you must be right now. Hands in sync of the squelchy sounds of you pumping your fingers in and out of that soaked pussy. His cock’s so huge, even his own palms are just big enough wrapped around the girth, and an obscene growl left his lips as your whimpers and moans turn higher and sultrier, definitely look like a goddess when you’re weeping tears, stuffing your cunny full and craving for the release. But when you finally tumble over the edge, he snaps his eyes open and groans the second his name comes out of your mouth with such honeyed tone, crying his name in need and suppressed desire.

Simon jumps up from the armchair, heavy cock forming an obvious tent when he shoves open his door and knocks on yours impatiently. “Wait-Wait me a second…!” your voice hits his ears with trembles that can’t be left unnoticed.

“ 'S what you want, love? getting bent over by a man older than you and fucked stupid? Is that so, princess?” He squeezes himself through the crack of your door, kicking it close and pinning your upper body on the shoe cabinet beside the door, your legs dangling in the air as he drives the fat tip into your entrance ferociously, tight cunt still spasming from your orgasm and makes him grunts out a curse, “Fucking screaming my name when you touch yourself, hmm? you know you can come to me anytime you need something, like I told you before.”

He gets you cry out in pleasure without any concern of receiving complaints from other neighbors, wrapping your legs back and standing between your wide-spread thighs, leaning his weight on your back while his hips rocks unrelentingly. “No more, no more…Simon!” You clenching down on his shaft so nice and hot, milking him loads after loads, the angry tip of his cock abusing every spots inside you, and your legs are shaking uncontrollably when he finally comes one last time, satiated both your needs for now, and you the last thing you feel before succumbing to slumber is a gentle kiss pressing on your twitching, overstimulated clit as his seeds flood out of your swollen pussy.

The relationship between you and him deepens since that night,and he doesn’t stop you or protest when you wear the low-cut top and cute skirt, semi-transparent thigh high stockings keeps attracting his attention to stare at the bare skin of your thighs between them and the skirt, and wave goodbye at him with an apologetic expression before heading off to a party with your college friends. He knows the importance of these social activities between youngsters, so he didn’t get mad or upset, just kiss your temple, reminded you to stay safe and call him whenever you need, then he’d be there in no time.

You sure will turn heads wherever you go tonight, and though there might be some troublesome wankers trying their luck on you, but he knows you won’t even spare them anything beside a polite nod of rejection. You’re all his, you won’t feel the same bliss and love from those young blokes of your age. No one can make you feel as good as he does, they can’t make you squirt all over the floor when he eats you out at the countertop, no one knows how to lower and disperse all your concerns and thoughts like him, with his tongue lapping your perked buds and that long cock massaging your cervix, coaxing countless orgasms out of you before you fall asleep in his embrace contently.

So when you ring him just about 2 hours later, asking if he can come pick you up at the club, he immediately hops in to his truck, pulls up at the location you texted him. He doubts how your breasts haven’t spilled out your low cut tops, but he’s definitely enjoying the view, your cheeks burning from the alcohol, pawing at his shirt and whining about how you missed him, how boring the party was and you just wanted to go home and bounce on his dick through your tipsy state.

Good that Simon parked his truck at a secluded spot, so you don’t need to wait any longer, let him bend you over the hood and kneel down behind you, tongue shoving deep inside, occasionally pulls out and prodding at your pussy to calm you down from keep pleading him to just fuck you already and rubbing his bulge when he just wants to drive you home first. “Will give you the cock you’ve been thinking all night when we’re home, sweetheart.” He speaks against your slick pussy lips before diving back to lick every drop of your sugary juices again.

[just-some-user-hunny]

The Cannibal bonded with a bastard targaryen reader ...

This is heavily inspired by @mangled-parasite writings on their yandere hotd stuff. I wanted to go more in depth about the relationship a bastard princess reader would have with the cannibal, because the dynamics could be so diverse and interesting. The cannibal is a really interesting dragon to me as well, he's not been tames nor shows any interest in it, so I always wonder what he'd be like with a rider!

(fem! Bastard princess reader X the cannibal)

. If you are bonded to him, he would be ruthlessly protective over you. He can feel every flicker of distress and discomfort from you, and he bares his teeth like a guard dog at whoever draws too close. Once he had decided that you were his, and he was yours, his fury when it comes to protecting you rivals hellfire. You will never have to feel fear again, nothing can even dream of touching you- lest they want to experience the nightmarish wrath of the Cannibal. It matters little to him if this threat is human, or dragon. In fact he almost welcomes it. He loves the rush of destroying whatever threatens you, the pride that fills him when he charres their remains and feasts upon them In front you- because look princess. Look how mighty he is, look how well he can fight and protect you. After his gory feast, he'll lower himself close to your little form for his praise- purring till your blood fizzles as he enjoys your pets and attention.

. Cannibal has never been a tame or passive dragon, but around you, he'll make an effort to behave. He'll stave away his urges to salivate when he captures glimpses of the smaller dragons, if it makes you happy. He'll heed your voice, your words, if only to amuse you and keep you content. However, he still has a temper- and although he may not engulf everything with wildfire, he will surely growl and roar to make people bend their knee in your presence. His bond to you is tightly knitted, so he can pick up those who are irking you or upsetting you. He shares your hatred for your father, often bearing his frightening jagged teeth at the pale man who can only endure the monstrosity of his daughter's dragon. It'll take only your word to engulf him in burning emerald flames, so for once, your father will hold his tongue.

. He is not an obedient dog, more like a feral alley cat who's taken a warming to you. There's not a force in heaven or hell that can convince him to confide anywhere near the dragon pits, not to mention his monstrous size cannot even imagine squeezing itself into that little ditch. He'll take to sleeping upon the beach, preferably away from vhager, if he wants to remain close to you. However he is known to fly off and disappear for days on end, returning when you least expect it. He is a wild dragon at heart.

. He may not melt into a big passive puppy, but he will surely let you know he likes the attention you give him. He'll croon with his snarling scarred grin, his eyes glinting as you speak to him and stay close. The attitude he has around you is stark like night and day- with others he glares ferociously and mean, but with you, he's bound by your heels.

When you approach him upon the sand of the tide, he'll lower his head to gaze upon you. he'll feel content as he looks you over, appearing docile and calm in your presence.

Your family find it terrifyingly odd whenever you approach him with so much casualty, and he simply looks at you so fondly. The dragon who has devoured oh so many wannabe dragon tamers is now treating you like a precious little treasure, and it's both awe-inspiring, and frightening. His striking emerald green eyes focus on you as you speak sweetly and softly to him, his purrs can be heard from the dragonstone gates.

. The cannibal is an ancient dragon with many years of experience, so to him, you are little more than a child in his eyes. His child.

If anything, he is more of a loving father to you than Daemon could ever be.

It's puzzling to him, at first. He has never possessed a single maternal bone in his body, having no objection to devouring unhatched eggs and even young hatched dragons to satiate his hunger- but perhaps he sees a part of him in you. That wildness to stray, the desperation to free yourself from the thorns of the targarians that dig deep into you. You may be a little gentle weepy thing, but the fact still stands. You want to be free. He can grant that.

As you claim him as a child, he'll watch you grow. Watch your face and hands become weary from the anxiety and ache of constantly being caged. You'll gradually become more and more beautiful, dripping in gems and jewellery and ornate gowns, but the sadness in your eyes hasn't changed since you were a tearful little child. He sees what they are doing- trying to keep you satiated with material desires, but he understands you deep down that nothing of that matters. You want to be anywhere else but here...

. He is an old dragon, and has a temper to him. His hunger for flesh and fire has not made him weary, and although he is scarred and withered, he is still towering in all his obsideon scaled glory. Emerald flames engulfing the sky as you ride upon his back, soaring above the clouds as pride and glory consumes him. He always despises the idea of being 'claimed' and ridden like some show pony, but he finds himself enjoying the company of his little human experiencing the rush of gliding through the heavens. He can feel your thundering heart, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he dips and soars between terrific heights, and he can't help but grin a scarred and twisted smile, egged on by your delight of the views and freedom. Yes! This is freedom, my little princess. Let us not be chained by those targarians, this is what living is!

He certainly likes challenging you, obviously not to the point he puts you in any danger of course- but he'll dive at gut churning speeds to see what'll make you shriek. It's almost like He finds amusement out of it, perhaps getting a little kick out of challenging his rider. Once he has landed however with you safely back on the ground, he'll look at you with his gnarled smirk and expect just a little push from you. Don't take it to heart though, his princess. You'll get gently prodded and nudged by his snout to check on you to make sure you're alright. He is still protective over you, after all. His cruelty will not extend to your pain. Besides, you are more often than not riding him bareback, so he would never fly so recklessly that you'd get bucked off. Most of the time he's holding back, really.

. That is not to say that each time you climb upon his back that you will endure terror, because that is surely not the case. He loves flying with you, loves feeling your awe and wonder. It fills him with unbridled pride and ego. You can both feel freedom, and freedom is all he wants for himself and his rider alike.

. As his rider, you have a good chance of escaping the talons of your family. Who is to stop you? The mad prince, Daemon, and his blood wyrm? Cannibal could laugh at the mere thought of this deranged man challenging him with his little red pest. Even the one eyed prince and his ancient she-dragon, Vhagar, will be a welcomed challenge. When it comes to you, he'd do anything.

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Danny was waiting when Dick came home. "Welcome home, Dick."

He runned the back of his neck nervously, slipping the window closed behind him. "Hey, Danny."

There was a long moment of silence, Dick standing in front of the closed window and Danny sitting on the couch. Danny took a sip of the tea he was holding before setting the mug down on the coffee table with a click. "So," he leveled a small glare at the vigilante, "you gonna apologise to Tim?"

"Who?" Dick blinked.

"The kid you yelled at and then left standing in your apartment as you went out as Nightwing for exactly two hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-two seconds longer than your new schedule allows."

He cringed back. "Listen, kid-"

"No, you're listening to me, so shut up and sit down." He did, dropping right to the floor. "I don't know what the hell happened between you and Batman, but you don't get to take it out on the people around you, especially not the kid that just trying to help."

"Dan-"

"What did I just say?" He sighed. "Look. I get it. You're grieving, both you and Batman are, but that doesn't excuse your behavior. It doesn't excuse Batman's behavior, either, so don't think that's what I'm saying."

Dick carefully pulled his domino mask off. "What do you want me to do?"

"Several things." Danny stood and walked into the bathroom, coming back a few seconds later with Dick's first aid kit. "First, though, you're gonna let me patch you up. Then, you're gonna use my phone and apologise to Tim. After that, you eat and go to bed; You have work in a few hours."

Knowing he wasn't going to be getting out of this, Dick started to take his suit off. He slipped his arms out of the sleeves and let Danny treat the bruises on his arms and hands. Not much damage that night. He'd only encountered a few petty crimes so it had been quiet.

Without another word shared between them, Danny left to put the first aid kit away before making a quick snack for Dick while he went to change. It'd only been about a week, but they'd fallen into an easy routine.

Dick was quick to change and eat, falling asleep nearly ten minutes after he laid down.

***

Danny made sure Dick was asleep before he left the apartment as Phantom. He'd learned, during his two weeks of not-stalking, that a some criminals hung back until Nightwing had turned in before they came out to play. Phantom was going out for an extra two hours each night to remedy this. Though, he made sure no one ever spotted him before or after he knocked people out. Invisibility was hand like that.

Sure, he didn't have all that much experience as a vigilante, but he'd been traveling for four weeks before stopping. The first lesson he learned was that he needed to learn fast. He was wasn't a genius like the rest of his family, but he picked up on things really fast. Fighting had been one of those things. Though, the lessons from his mom when he was a kid also helped a lot.

Staying invisible was easy, so was intangibility and flight. The three together made stealth easier than if he didn't have them. Though, he did make sure to practice his stealth without them, too. Being caught unawares or without his powers would be disastrous and he was going to do everything he could to mitigate the risk.

Blockbuster, Phantom had learned, was the reason Dick had stayed in Bludhaven. He was also the ringleader of the organised crime in the city. Apparently, he's the second of the Blockbuster name? The giant of a man had his hands everywhere; The Bludhaven Police, as well as the underbellies of New York, Metropolis, and Gotham. With eyes and ears everywhere, not a lot got passed him, which is likely why Nightwing was having trouble getting the crime rates down. So, Danny Phantom was going to help.

He'd heard the name Oracle from both Nightwing and Blockbuster's goons, so Phantom assumed whoever that was was on his side. Unluckily, though, they were now a target. He just needed to get a hold of them without letting them find him.

Phantom had heard the information from several goons since he'd started going out, but he didn't know if Nightwing knew or not. Though, he didn't know how to pass on the information. How could he tell Dick what he knows without letting slip that he'd been going out? Dick would call him a hypocrite and would fall back into his passively suicidal schedule. Danny's not a hypocrite! He just runs on a separate schedule. A schedule that Dick might not like, but one that works for Danny.

The intel Phantom was working with tonight was about some of Dick's coworkers. He knew the corruption in the Bludhaven and Gotham City Police Departments ran thick and deep, so he wasn't really surprised to find out that Detective Soames and Chief Redhorn ran with the less than pleasant people that made their homes and bases in Bludhaven.

Dick knew this, too, which is why he became an officer in the first place.

According to the goons Phantom had spied on, Detective Soames was involved in a drug ring that was doing deliveries tonight. It was timed to be after Nightwing had turned in for the night so that he wouldn't be able to bust it. It was a smart move on the ringleader's part, to have his goons out only after Nightwing was done for the night.

That was the next thing he was going to have to work on with Nightwing. He couldn't have a discernible pattern without someone with him to cover. Honestly, Batman should know better, too. Maybe he'll pass it on to Tim?

While on the road, Danny had learned that his powers were still developing. One of which was a kind of sixth sense. It worked somewhere between hearing and a spider's ability to feel vibrations in the air and webs. He didn't know is reach on it yet, but he was able to cover half of Bludhaven from where the ability currently sat, so he was going to work with that limit for now.

The warehouse he was staking out was where he'd heard goons talk about for nearly a week. They had been careless, assuming that there was no one out to catch them, but it worked in Phantom's favor. It was mostly empty, save for a few homeless squatters looking for some shelter, and was otherwise undisturbed.

Phantom didn't believe it for a second.

He was also going to laugh in Tim's face if the goons in Bludhaven were smarter than the goons in Gotham.

Right on time, just as the clock turned over into the Witching Hour, the homeless people sheltered in the warehouse stood up and met in the center of the building. Together, and armed, they waited for exactly five minutes. Then, the back doors to the building opened and Detective Soames walsted in.

"Gentlemen," the detective greeted with a sneer, "Lady. Do you have what I came here for?"

"Do we look like idiots?" the lady of the group scoffed, "Of course we have it."

"Well, I don't see it," Soames frowned, "Where is it?"

The dirty blond to the woman's right was the next to speak. "Hidden in the walls."

Soames' frown deepened into a scowl. "The hell is it in there for?"

The only other person of the group, a brown haired man, said, "There's rumors goin' 'round about a Spook. Comes out when Nightwing turns in."

Well, well, well. Looks like Phantom's gaining a reputation.

"You believe in ghost stories now?" Detective Soames sneered, "Get my delivery, now."

The three scuttled off the the wall just under where Phantom was hiding in the rafters. He timed ten minutes before they walked back upto Soames with two bricks of cocaine each.

"You're short."

"This is the agreed upon amount." the lady argued.

Soames' expression twisted into something cruel. "Did I forget to tell you? Tsk. Shame." In a quick and fluid movement, he whipped a pistol from his inner pocket and shot the woman and then the blond. He picked up the bricks, tucking them under his arm before taking the last two from the brunet. "I cannot build an empire without a few casualties, right?"

The man gulped, eyeing the gun. "Y-yes, sir."

Soames hummed. "The sands of Egypt were dyed red with blood. The roads of Rome are the same." He turned away from the man. "Twelve bricks in two weeks. You'll have a location shortly."

Phantom watched the detective leave with a frown. So that was the deal, huh? He didn't know too much about Bludhaven's criminals yet, but he was fairly certain that a man like Blockbuster won't like someone trying this shit under his nose.

He was quick to leave the warehouse after that, doing a quick loop of the city - focused mostly on Sin Central and The Spine - before flying back to Dick's apartment. He wrote down everything from the night, complete with drawings of everyone of note that he saw. He'd pass it to Nightwing as soon as he needed to. For now, though, it remained his cases alone.

Part 8 Part 10

[astralis-is-typing]

Gossiping with skz

⚝fic type: head cannon (comedy/crack)

⚝word count: 1.4k

⚝A/N: I had so much fun writing this lmao, enjoy my unhinged assumptions ʕ⁠ノ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠ノ Thanks to @yonglixx for helping me find the gif.

｡Bang Chan*��

Knows all the tea before you even bring it up.

Homeboy knows everything about everyone somehow. I guess it’s because Chan has this really welcoming aura that just makes people deem him trustworthy. He won’t even pretend to be surprised by what you’re telling him, so you might feel a little put out… but he’ll more than make up for it by telling you what he knows! Your eyes are literally bulging out of your skull, your jaw hanging open by the time he’s done. It feels like you brought a snack and he pulled up with a whole five course meal. He’ll smirk at the expression on your face and tease you for thinking you could top his tea.

To put it simply, you cannot outdo the doer. Bro literally knows it all haha. Also, he’s very low-key about what he knows– so consider yourself lucky that he’s chosen you as his gossip buddy.

｡Lee Know*ﾟ

He'll pretend he’s uninterested and act like he’s ignoring you, only dropping the act to scold you that it’s bad manners to gossip. That is, until you mention something or someone that piques his interest. Now he has to know.

You’ll probably be teasing him like, ‘oh, I thought you didn’t want to know’, sticking your tongue out and walking away. If he needs to pin you down to the seat/couch HE WILL. As Han once said, “I can’t tease Lee Know-hyung, he’ll use force”. Will grant you one of his death stares if you try make him apologize before you finally spill for ignoring you. Literally will not let you leave till you finish the story.

Lee Know probably gets so smug when he’s the one bringing in the tea. Like his eyes glimmer and everything. I feel like he’d do that pose where he’s got his legs crossed and his hands on his lap; flashing you a cat-like grin and sitting so stoically upright while you’re borderline dangling out of your seat, just to hear what he’s saying because he won’t speak up.

  ｡Seo Changbin*ﾟ  

Gossiping with Changbin would have to exclusively be done in private because he’ll be reacting so loudly! Gaping and pointing when you mention someone in his line of sight. And heaven forbid the tea in question walks past you guys… man will STARE.

Brace yourself because he’s the type to smack your shoulder exceptionally astonished.

I feel like both he and Lee Know would ask loads of questions. They love gossip but also would like to verify that it isn’t all just hot air, you know? Also, whenever the two of you were in the same room as the people you were gossiping about he’d keep looking over at you and grinning or pulling faces that make you struggle to hold in a laugh. You’d be scolding him and hitting him (playfully of course) afterwards, vowing to never share ANYTHING with him again. He’d whine, promising he won’t be as obvious with future topics of discussion (a promise that barely lasts 2 days).

Bonus: Changbin is the type to store screenshots from group chat arguments like court documents. He has pretty incriminating evidence on that android of his so better not test the guy.

 ｡⁠Hwang Hyunjin*ﾟ

The type of friend to have just as much beef as you do with whoever you guys are talking about by the time you’re through with the tea.

Very reactive and will definitely be adding things on. Stuff like, ‘It isn’t even in their place!’ if someone’s talking smack about you and what not. With him it’s like sparring or a tennis match. When you serve, he will serve back; it builds up like a jenga tower. Just best friend material if you catch my drift.

Honestly there’d be a lot of tone variation haha. At some points you’d be whispering conspiratorially, leaning close to each other and whispering even if you two are alone. At other points your exaggerated hand gestures will be running the conversation. Gossiping with Hyunjin would be such a rewarding experience to be honest. In addition, he’s got a really expressive face, so you’d be knowing his opinion on whatever you’re saying immediately. Would definitely be slapping a hand over his mouth, frowning in disgust… the whole package.

Hyunjin has previously mentioned that he doesn’t judge a book by its cover, preferring not to believe rumours about people, and this is true. Nevertheless, he’d indulge you (thoroughly) because he trusts your judgement and you aren’t one to think badly of a person without reasons.

Bonus: Snacks and actual tea (or in his case, iced americanos) are FOR SURE part of the conversation. Would be sipping dramatically with raised eyebrows when you mention someone he knows. Let’s out a dramatic ‘SAME!’ because he doesn’t like them either. “I thought I was the only one,” he’d say while clutching his chest before shaking his head and continuing to munch on whatever flour-based snack he’s brought that day.

 ｡Han Jisung*ﾟ

Cannot keep still while gossiping. Will keep standing up and will even pace/ walk around when something is particularly juicy. And with his weak ass legs he’d probably trip and end up just lying on the floor for a while… unbothered by it because the story is getting good. Yes, Han is a floor gossiper. (Insert Rose’s “everything I need is on the ground” meme.)

Han also is the type to get SO wrapped up in a tea time session that he won’t notice the time passing lmao. He’ll probably remember an even juicier story mid-story haha. “BY THE WAY! Did I ever tell you-?”/ “SPEAKING OF WHICH-!”.

Like, every new point you make reminds him of something else. The two of you are out here putting pieces of a puzzle together until you’ve found out who the neighbour is cheating on her husband with or something lol. Like it’s part gossip part detective work, you two actually deserve salaries for how good you are. If you guys are texting and you drop a bomb, be prepared (preferably with low phone volume) for an impromptu facetime with a SHAKEN Jisung. Also, if any of the other members know something about what you two are talking about he’ll be dragging them in. If it’s Seungmin, who’s very stingy with his tea, the two of you will be offering your kidneys for the information he most definitely can give you.

No snacks/ drinks here because he’s probably the type to spit out his water in shock haha.

 ｡Lee Felix*ﾟ

Bro gets astronomically shocked. Like his reactions when he’s gossiping, watching people roast each other or similar situations are just priceless.

At first he’s pretty tentative with it because he doesn’t gossip much, but he’ll come around. He’s more subtle than Changbin but will still be nudging you with his elbow or foot when the ‘issue’ is in the room with you.

An adlib gossiper- he even gasps on beat and all that. You’ll be all like, “Felix you won’t believe what they said-” and he’ll be like, “Gurl what did they say??!” (You know, in the best aussified alternative for this sentence, cannot imagine the term gurl/gworl coming out of Felix’s mouth lmao).

If someone’s watching you guys they’ll feel so excluded (how I felt when watching skz talker in the gif *sigh*… feeling intensifies when there are no subs). Also I feel like a prime location for a gossip session would be the car! Long journeys where there’s not much to see outside the window, and you turn to him like, “Did you hear about…”

 ｡Kim Seungmin*ﾟ

Now if you’ve ever watched 2kr (2 Kids Room) you KNOW this man has the inside scoop.

It’s an elite feeling to be gossiping with Seungmin because, as I’d mentioned before, he’s very choosy when it comes to who he shares his tea with. That stuff is scalding hot. Like between him and Chris, those two know all the jyp ent. secrets. Like bro probably has documents proving that Hyunjin and Yeji are related. Seungmin is INFORMED.

This is another member who’ll have actual tea with him, cradling the cup delicately with both palms and sipping slowly as he watches you lose your mind over the rim of the mug. Crosses his legs and acts so nonchalant while slapping you with the fattest, juiciest conspiracy/rumour you’ve ever heard. If you tell him something he actually doesn’t know, his composed aura will fade so fast- mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as you share your story.

 ｡Yang Jeongin*ﾟ

Jeongin will 100% end a gossip session saying, “But anyways, who are we to judge?”

Between Innie’s attitude and Grandma identity your boy is a prime candidate for a gossip buddy. He’s just THE ONE. His yt/vlives are literally titled ‘Maknae’s Private Life’- doesn’t that scream tea to you? Like if you’re gossiping in a group his input is for sure the most awaited. People will be leaving to go look for him if he isn’t already present.

Gossiping with Jeongin is all hushed tones and huddled conversations. Bro might even go as far as putting his phone on silent if the tea is hot enough. I feel like he’d unintentionally switch to his Busan accent when things start to get really juicy lmao.

Abruptly keeps quiet or changes the topic whenever someone passes by the two of you. If you aren’t used to this you’ll get so confused, looking at him like ‘???’ when he randomly starts telling you about the new shoes he bought.

Idk why, but to me I.N’s really good at insta stalking and he would be pulling up people’s pages if you didn’t seem to know who he’s talking about.

⚝A/N: How would you rank them MTL? I'd love to hear about it. P.s: in case you like them, the orange dividers originally by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more​ 

+Thank you for reading!♡ Here's a present for making it to the end😋:

[alotofpockets]

Crazier things - Finding our way back | Katie McCabe x Reader

Where you and Katie take it slow to rebuild what you once had

A/n: part 2 to 'What if we're still meant to be?'

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k | Read part 1

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Putting on the Arsenal badge for your first training back felt like a dream. You could not wait to get back out there with your team. Stepping onto the pitch clad in your Arsenal gear felt like coming home. While Barca had been an incredible experience, and a place you felt very comfortable, a part of you had always belonged with the red and white. 

Your old teammates and current England ones greeted you warmly. Reuniting with them, even if you had met up with some yesterday, felt extra special while wearing the same badge on your chest. 

“Welcome back everyone!” Jonas started the first speech of the season. “It is great to see you all. I hope everyone had a good break and got the rest they needed. A lot of familiar faces, and also some new ones. Daphne, Rosa, and Y/n, welcome to the team, I hope your teammates will do great work in making you feel at home.” 

Then it was officially time for your first training back at Arsenal. Leah immediately claimed you as her partner, she of course wanted to train with you as the two of you were good friends, but she also wanted to know how things went with Katie. 

You updated her on where the two of you stood. While you did so, you glanced up to find Katie. A smile immediately on your face as you watch her laughing with Kyra at the end of their drill. 

With the players you had already played with around you, you quickly fell back into the familiar Arsenal rhythm. As for your new teammates, you made a point in getting to know them, and watch their playing styles closely. 

Between your first couple of training sessions, you spend some time with your family before you head off to America with the team. It was so nice to be able to just hop into the car and be with them within an hour. 

You had also met up with Katie over coffee again, spending a couple of hours talking and catching up some more. There was a lot to catch up on from the past four years, and you were interested in every bit of information that she had to share. 

When the team departed for the pre-season tour in Washington, the plane was filled with excited chatter. Match wise you were especially looking forward to the Chelsea game. You had recently faced off against them in the Champions League, but nothing compared to a London Derby. While it wouldn’t be on London grounds, still it meant a lot to you being a part of one again. 

Beyond the matches, you were excited to explore the city, and get to know your teammates better. The schedule was packed with training, and team activities, but also left time to explore on your own. You intended to use the time to connect with your teammates, and continue to figure out where you stood with Katie.

As soon as the team arrived at the hotel, the room assignments were handed out. When you found your name on the list, your stomach dropped. Katie McCabe. Without thinking, you rushed over to Kim. “Why did you room me with Katie?” Kim heard the panic in your voice, but raised her shoulders. “It wasn’t up to me.” You furrowed her eyebrows. “The pre-season rooming assignments were done by the staff, so no getting out of this one I’m afraid.”

You cursed whoever planned this, but picked up your key nonetheless. Since you did a little detour to complain to Kim, Katie was already in the room when you entered with your bags. “Hey,” She said from her bed with her bags still packed. “I can see if anyone wants to change rooms, if you’re not comfortable sharing.” 

With a shake of your head, you put your bags down on the other bed in the room. “No, it’s fine. It’s just a room, right?” Katie nodded and you both started unpacking your bags, before the team would head out on their first small training to make sure the flight didn’t take too much toll on their bodies.

After a long day of travel and training you found yourselves back in your hotel room. Katie pulled out a deck of cards, “Wanna play?” You spend a lot of hotel room nights, while travelling with the team, playing cards with Katie. The thought of playing cards again like old times, made your stomach fill with butterflies. You ignored them and plopped down on her bed with her, “Bring it on.”

The evening was spent laughing with each other and multiple wins and loses on both ends, all in all you had a lot of fun. Something you had really been craving, maybe rooming with Katie wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

You could not have been more wrong.

Everything had felt so familiar. The games on her bed, the laughter shared, and then brushing your teeth side by side. It was something that had always been a part of your routine, and without thinking, after putting your toothbrush down, you pecked Katie on her lips like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You froze, “Shit, I am so sorry.” Your heart was racing as you realised what you had just done. Katie’s eyes wide in shock as well, not expecting it. Before she could respond, you bolted out of the bathroom, and out of the room, heading straight for Leah’s room.

You knocked frantically until someone opened the door. “Calm down, what happened?” Leah says as she pulls you into the room. “I kissed Katie.” You blurted out as you sat down on the closest bed to you. “I promised we’d take things slow, and now I’ve ruined everything. I kissed her out of habit and-”

“Take a breath.” Leah interrupted. “Wally, can you grab some water?” It was only then that you realised Lia was there as well. “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to ruin your night.” Lia shook her head, “Don’t you worry, just drink up.” She says while handing you the water bottle. 

You ended up spending the night in their room, not yet ready to face Katie. Leah did send Katie a quick message.

Leah: Hey, I don’t want to come between anything, but I just wanted to let you know y/n staying here tonight.

Katie: Thank you for letting me know. Goodnight

Leah: Goodnight

The next morning you knock on your bedroom door. In your haste last night, you had forgotten to take your room key. Katie opened the door and let you in, to your surprise she didn’t look upset. Still you started apologising right away.

“I am so sorry Katie. I shouldn’t have kissed you, I promised we’d take things slow and I messed it up already. Everything felt so familiar and it just happened.” Katie let you ramble on while she was putting on her trainers. “Are you done?” She chuckles when you’re out of breath from apologising. You furrow your brow, “Yes, you don’t hate me?” She shakes her head and sits down next to you. “I didn’t hate you before, why would I start now.” She had a good point of course, but you still felt like you had messed up. “Look, I agree. It was probably too early to kiss me, but I understand it came from everything being so familiar. I don’t blame you, and I did not mind the kiss.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, glad you didn’t mess up again. “But what now?” You asked. “We just keep doing what we’ve been doing. Taking it slow, talking, and spending time together. We’ll figure it out.” 

Her reassuring words combined with her calm demeanour eased some of the nerves you felt. “That sounds good, thank you.” Katie nods, “Of course, we’re in this together, remember?” You smile and nod, “Yeah.”

“Come on, get dressed. We’re gonna be late.” Your brow furrows. Your mind had only been on kissing Katie, so you had completely forgotten you had an actual itinerary for Washington. “We’re sightseeing with the team, remember?” The cheeky smile you loved so much now on full display. “Right.” You say nervously, quickly grabbing some clothes and changing in the bathroom.

The two of you were the last ones to enter the bus and already giggling over some joke that Katie made. Leah and Lia share a knowing look, the two of you were going to be alright. 

With the whole team you spend a couple of hours exploring Washington. You travelled from monument to monument and took in all the sights around the city. It really was a great way to bond with your new teammates. 

“Alright team, as I’ve said before, this pre-season tour is all about bonding so go out and have some fun. We’ll meet back here at five, and take the bus back to the hotel.” Jonas said and the bustling of your teammates making plans began. 

“Hey, do you have plans already?” She asked looking between you, Leah and Lotte, who were chatting together. “No, nothing yet. Did you have something in mind?” Her smile grew. “Yeah, my followers on snapchat gave me some restaurant recommendations, and I was wondering if you wanted to try one out with me for lunch.” 

You loved the idea and told her just that. “Ah, well looks like you two have plans then, we’ll see you later!” Leah quickly said and pulled Lotte away with her, making sure the two of you would get your alone time. She might be your biggest supporter right now, she knew how happy the two of you had made each other in the past, and wanted nothing more for the both of you.

Spending time with Katie was easy, and something you wanted to do forever you thought when you were sitting in a corner booth of the cosy restaurant that had been recommended to Katie by the fans. 

“Hey Katie, what is this?” You ask her out of nowhere. “Ehm, your food?” Her eyebrows raised and a chuckle left her mouth. “Sorry, I left the context in my brain.” Her smile grew, “Yeah, you always had a tendency to do that.”

“I mean are we just having lunch or is this a date?” Katie is quiet for a moment. “Would you be okay with it being a date?” She questioned shyly. “Yeah, would you?” She smiled, “Yeah, I would really like that.”

The rest of your stay in Washington, you went on a couple more dates. The two of you were figuring it out and you really liked the way things were going. On top of that, you got to play your first minutes for your club, and couldn’t be more proud to put on the Arsenal kit again.

On your last night in the States, you were watching a movie in your room with a couple of the girls. You and Katie sat together on her bed, while Leah, Lia, and Beth were sitting on yours. About twenty minutes into the movie, you started getting uncomfortable just sitting up against the headboard, so you started wiggling around until you were comfortable, which was leaned into Katie’s side. “Is this okay?” You whispered. In response she lifted her arm and put it around your shoulder, “More than.”

When the movie was over, you had already fallen asleep with the steady beat of Katie’s hard next to your ear. Leah, Lia, and Beth had said goodnight to Katie and left the room, all without you even realising. 

Katie woke you up with a gentle shake. “Hmm too comfy.” You said, still half asleep. “It’s okay, you can stay comfy. Let’s just lay down under the covers.” Katie moved the both of you down and pulled the covers over you. “See, way better.” She joked when you were already getting comfortable cuddling up to her again. 

You had laid in her arms for a few minutes, falling back to sleep when you felt Katie’s heartbeat raise. Just as you were about to ask if she was alright, she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. The gesture made your whole body feel warm, you looked up from her chest and let your eyes meet. “Hi.” She said, and even though the room was dark, you noticed the light blush on her cheeks. “Hey.” You smiled.

“Was that okay?” You nod slowly in response, while looking between her eyes and lips. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Your heart was beating out of your chest at this point. “Yeah.”

Katie placed her hand on your cheek, and started leaning in. You smiled and closed the distance. Her lips on yours were soft and she kissed you slowly. It felt new and familiar all at the same time. One feeling you were certain about, was that you felt on top of the world. 

When you pulled away, you cuddled back into her chest, and she held you close. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat again.

Back home, the two of you still took things slow. Just taking it step by step, in a way that felt right for the both of you. Which for the moment meant, going on dates, cuddling, sharing some kisses, and spending a lot of time together.

After plenty of pre-season matches, it was time for the first match of the season. You were playing Rosenborg at home in the first Champions League qualifying match. Like it was meant to be, Katie swung in a ball from the left flank to you on the right. You hit the perfect volley, and kick the ball into the back of the net. 

Your teammates surrounded you, and the crowd went crazy for your first goal of the season. The goal that put your team ahead in the qualifying match, but there was only one person you wanted to celebrate the goal with, and she was patiently waiting behind the group of your teammates that was celebrating with you.

While Katie had joined in on the team huddle as well, she wanted a moment for just the two of you. She lifted you up and spun you around. “My Gooner.” She whispered in your ear. The familiar words brought a big smile onto your face. 

“Yours?” You say when she puts you down. “Yeah, if you’d like that.” With a smile you nod, “Yes, I do.” With her arm still around you, the two of you made your way back to your starting positions. 

This time when the whistle blew, not only was the match starting again, but so was your relationship with Katie. A new start you couldn’t wait to explore more. You were hers and she was yours.

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[eyesxxyou]

𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆 🏴‍☠️🐚

| v. five | to weave a basket

🐚・・・pirate!Hobie x mute!siren!reader.

𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱: light drinking. vague mentions of death. descriptions of fire. hobie kind tweaks out in this one. yelling. glass breaking. reader gets scared.

↳ ❝ but there were ways to bring home back in the darkest of nights ❞

𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

The crackle of the fire popped in Hobie’s ears. The heat radiating off of it kept his shivering at bay as he sat under the open night sky, twinkling with stars winking at him with secrets shared between them. His mother sat at his side, weaving a basket she had been working on for a few days. The fire crackled again, and popped with embers that just narrowly missed Hobie’s toes. He wiggled them into the sand.

He yawned and curled up into his mother, slowly climbing into her lap from under her arm. She welcomed him in as any mother would. She wrapped her arms around him and let him rest his head on her bosom as she continued weaving her basket before the fire for light. Her hum rattled her chest. Hobie thought he could hear the tune through her ribcage.

Hobie could hear the ocean just beyond the fire. Her white waves crashing into sharp rocks and rounding out their rough edges. He wanted to be crashed into, rounded out, made soft. But he was young, he had no sharp edges yet, no hardened heart. He was just a boy with his mother.

That basket would never be completed. He’d never hear her hum her tune again. They’d never sit next to their fire and enjoy each other's company.

If only Hobie could realize that this was the last time he’d ever be truly happy.

Childhood ripped from trembling hands that so desperately reached out for it. His mother's scent still lingered in his nose, her warmth on his skin, her song in his ears. He rocked back and forth slowly and breathed deeply in hopes that maybe –just maybe– he could fall back into slumber and experience his last moments of real joy.

Hobie trembled violently in his bed. His eyes glossed over, tears swelling in his eyes that he quickly blinked away for his own sake. Crying would do him no good now. What's done is done.

But he could mourn. He could mourn what could have been. The life he could have had, taking care of his mother who would be old by now. Instead he was out at sea with no home and with a responsibility to his crew. He was a captain of one of the most fearsome crews in the region but with great power comes no future.

After the sorrow came the numbness. A drink would do him some good. It was just late enough into the night that no one would be awake to bother him. Whoever was in the bird’s-nest would probably be asleep too, lazy bastards. He loved them all dearly.

With quivering hands, Hobie went around his cabin, pulling on the clothes he had left strewn about the night before in his haste to get some rest. How naive to think that this would be the night where that would be a possibility for him. All sleep was restless and a waste of time. Always haunted and traumatized by what he had seen in his short, little life.

With his clothes on and a lantern in hand, Hobie opened the door to his cabin and just narrowly missed tripping over the curled up body on the floor. He always forgot about you and you quirk of finding your way to his door in the middle of the night like a dutiful pet. Slightly annoyed by it, Hobie nudged you with his foot to get up. “Come on, pearl. Ya can' sleep ‘ere, ya know tha’.”

You had a habit of sleeping just outside his door. Ever since the crew found out about you (Gwen couldn't keep her mouth shut) he’s made you sleep in the storage room. But you always managed to find your way back outside his door every single night. You couldn't be separated from him. No matter how much distance he attempted to put between the two of you, you were in a constant fight to close the gap.

You hummed and purred and rolled over like a cat, your eyes slowly fluttering open. They glittered under the dim light of the lantern like gold coins. You sat up slowly, looking up with him with your puppy-like gaze, sweet and soft with a tenderness Hobie hasn't seen in many, many years.

You stood before him with all your precious beauty. The flickering flame of the lantern made you glow so subtly. How ethereal. “Go back t’slseep where ya belong.” Hobie muttered before walking down the small corridor to make his way to the galley. You stood watching him, a pout on your lips and your droopy eyes softening. You were signing but with his back to you, you might as well have been signing to the wall. It probably would have been a better listener.

You were quick to follow after him, walking so closely he could hear the rattle of your pearls against the softness of your body and the long, seaweed clothing dragging against the wooden floors. The flick of your finger signing. He ignored it all and walked into the galley before finally turning back to you. “Wha’cha still followin’ me fo’?”

You had nothing to say to him now. You stood there with no good reason as to why you were still following him. Maybe because you liked him. Maybe because you thought he was so pretty how could you possibly put him out of your sight? Maybe because he saved you. Maybe because when you look at him something in your chest aches a little. You’ve been alone all of your life and now you've attached yourself to the very first person to show even the smallest bit of kindness to you.

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and looked up at him with those sweet eyes of yours. Hobie quickly shifted his gaze from yours. “Sit down then. ‘m ‘avin’ a drink.” He placed the lantern down on the table in front of where you decided to sit.

You watched him get some ale and grab a few oranges for you before walking over and sitting down at the table across from you. He placed the oranges in front of you and watched your eyes come alight with joy while he sipped on his stale ale.

You peeled one orange and split it in half to share with him. “Nah, pearl. Ion wan’ any.” He gave it back to you and happily, you began to eat his half, sweet juice squirting out over your lips and fingers. You smile with a quiet joy, giggling to yourself.

Hobie watched you from behind his wooden mug. The small lantern flame made your look soft, your giggling made him smile. You were…cute. Your cheeks were full and with oranges, your giggling was like eating candy for the first time. Like a sugar rush. Blood flooded his cheeks, his pupils were dilating.

It would be his secret. No one had to know that he thought you were the prettiest little thing around. Not even he needed to know. Hobie would push it into the recesses of his mind and let it linger there, fester until he'd be forced to deal with it. He had to get you off this ship before it became a problem. Before you became a problem. You had only been a mild inconvenience for him so far, barely even that. You were loud without speaking, always standing exactly where he needed you not to, and ever since you’ve found a way to communicate you’ve been signing to no end. You’ve made yourself likable and endearing to the crew in a matter of 2 days.

You might've been pretty, but he knew what hid just beneath them. Your supple lips hid fangs. Your long lashes and glittering eyelids hid the eyes that some could say were the last things they’ve ever seen. Soft hands held sharp claws. The soft valleys of your body meant to hypnotize.

The silence between the two of you was soft and quiet. The Mary Jane groaned with the rock of the waves pushing her side to side. The subtle smack of your lips. Your eyes looking up at him. He still can't bear to look at them without thinking of his mother's terrible fate.

His mother. You. His mother. You. His sight flickered.

How utterly lonely Hobie felt. On a ship in the middle of the sea, stranded. It was ironic really. He offered a home to so many, and yet, he could never go back home himself. Surrounded by so many yet completely and terribly alone.

But there were ways to bring home back in the darkest of nights.

“Have ya ever woven a basket before?” Hobie asked, his voice breaking through the tender silence between you two. You blinked, once, twice, then shook your head slowly. ‘Never.’ You are the last bit of your orange and licked your lips slowly, sucking on the pads of your fingers. You barely even knew what a basket was but you were more than willing to find out if he’d be the one teaching you.

You have been practicing signing with Hobie and his crew. Now you can communicate a great plethora of words. But it’s Hobie who understands you the best. You only really bothered to talk to him. ‘Me want learn.’ 

Hobie raised a brow at you. “Ya wanna learn?” You nod with the sweetest little smile on your lips. ‘Yes. You teach me please.’

He nipped at his bottom lip. It wouldn't hurt to teach you. Maybe it would help him. He hasn't woven a basket in many, many years, but he could still do it with his eyes closed.

Wordlessly, Hobie grabbed the handle to the lantern and stood up. You watched him walk towards the small stars that led out of the galley. You had learned by now that whenever Hobie left you, he usually didn't want you to follow so you stayed with learned obedience. It was only when he turned to you and motioned you to come that you got up and rushed up to him.

You followed him into the storage room where there happened to be straw on the floor. “Ya wanna grab as much straw as ya can. We’re gonna use i’ t’weave a basket.”

Hobie was uncharacteristically tender with you. He showed you which straw you should use to weave so that the basket isn't too weak but also flexible enough that you can bend it without it breaking. He placed his hand on your shoulder, careful not to press too hard into your wound. You looked at him, his concentration, the sharpness of his side profile. A jem. This feeling called desire. You wanted to be close to him. You wanted him to like you. You wanted to be what humans called a “friend”.

Once you collected a sufficient amount of straw, Hobie coaxed you to make your way to the deck where the two of you sat at the helm and placed your straw before you.

“Ya wanna start like this.” Hobie was slow to demonstrate to you, crossing one straw with another. You followed him, watching with careful eyes. It was quite easy at first but with each crossing of the straws it became harder to keep up with.

You let out something of a distressed cry. Tossing down your misshapen basket, your eyes welled with tears of frustration.

Hobie set his basket down to move to your side to help you. “Hey, hey, ‘s okay, lil’ pearl. Lemme see.” Suddenly before the fluttering lantern fire you two had huddled close into, you were pressed side to side. With his arm pressed into yours, his knee against your chaste thigh, he leaned in close and took your basket into his hands. Nimble fingers skillfully reweave your mistakes while he croons at you. “You were doin’ well. Ya just need t’ leave a bit tighter.”

Hobie felt like his mother teaching him to weave for the first time. He wanted to be tender and patient like her. To offer the kindness she had afforded him to you.

He looked up only to find you were already staring at him. Your faces were rather close for comfort and for once, Hobie looked you in the eyes. You were pretty, so very pretty, tragically so. How many men have looked at you and thought the very same thing before being dragged into the ocean never to be seen again? How many mothers have thought you a child and reached out to help you only to be taken from their families.

Hobie cleared his throat and moved away from you. “Ya should be good. Jus’ remember to keep i’ tight.” He moved back across from you and went to work on his own basket.

Things between you fell into silence. The strain of the straw, the waves against the side of the boat, the utter silence of night. Hobie remembered how it was to be alone with his mother before a fire, weaving, nimble fingers occasionally stroking his hair.

Your voice broke through the silence. It was strained and almost choking but it was in the distinct tune of the song his mother used to hum. You were trying to replicate it. Hobie recognized even so and froze in the middle of weaving in a piece of straw. He dropped his basket and looked at you, eyes wide and hostile. “How do ya know tha’?” He was quiet at first, hands curling into fists.

“I said, how do ya know that?!” He was yelling now, standing so swiftly that ke knocked over the lantern and shattered it. The flame went out, smothered by the glass shards landing on it. He snarled at you with a ferocious, righteous fury.

It was stupid of him to think he could get close to you, be kind to you. He should be grateful. You reminded him of just what you are. He was mistaken to think you could be anything more than what you were. You took his mother from him. How could he ever treat you with more than the bare minimum of kindness.

You whimpered, curling up and wrapping your arms around yourself. You meant no harm. With trembling hands you began to sign. ‘You sleep sing loud. Please no hurt me.’

You thought he was going to hurt you. You were fortunate that he was a man of his word. He swore to himself that no harm would be brought to anyone who sought refuge on his ship. That included you.

Hobie dragged his tongue along the soft inner flesh of his cheek and placed his face in the palms of his hands. You were still whimpering, curled up in a quivering ball in the dark. The stars watched the way you two fell apart at the slightest touch. All it took was a song for whatever semblance of friendship you two had to completely decay.

He marched away, stepping on his basket as he went, destroying it under his boot. Hobie murmured, almost growled at you.

“Go t’sleep, pearl. And don' come t’my door again."

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @lovelyygirl8 @humungus-mythology-geek

[plaidos]

Soulslike complainer anon back. I'm sorry if I came off as whiny, you're just going to have to get over that it's just how I type.

Let me start from the top. I recognize that Fromsoft games and soulslikes are good. I understand that they are foundational in the history of gaming, and that a ton of people love them. But two things can be true. I look at them and recognize that even though they were good games I personally would not enjoy them. This is not a slight against their quality, I just know that the gameplay conventions present in them are also things that I personally dislike.

I do not hate the games, I do not avoid them because they are popular. I do not spend money on things that I don't think I would enjoy. [If someone bought me their fromsoft game of choice I would try it and maybe change my tune.] The thing I was complaining about was not the games, or their popularity, but merely how often I am told to play them. I don't like feeling pressured to do things, even if I know I never will. I'm so happy that people enjoy those games, I really am. But they're so woven into Gamer Culture that invariably every conversation ends up with "what soulsgame is your favorite?" and I have to say "I've never played them." and whoever I'm talking to gets sad. Because they want to share their fun toy with me and I wish I could play it but I know it would be miserable. I don't really want anybody's behavior to change, because I know that's unrealistic. I'm just complaining about something I find annoying, and I think doing it successfully because Horray it was controversial!

Also I'd like to take a moment to dispute that I am "tasteless and without skill." Taste is entirely subjective and not worth arguing about, I personally think I have fine taste in games, and it's fine if you disagree. If I spent multiple sentences defending my skill in videogames, it would give you and others entirely too much ammunition to make fun of me with. (So I deleted it) Instead I will give you one adjective you're welcome to call me, what I am is INSECURE!

that’s a lot of words to say “i’m too bad at videogames to play dark souls and i feel bad every time somebody tells me to play them” sorry buddy but Dark Souls is such a religious experience for me that i think everybody should be recommended it every day until they play it.

also i really genuinely sincerely 100% actually believe that dark souls is not so popular that it is an unavoidable part of videogame culture. you just hang out with a lot of trans girls probably. i really think that if you feel “pressured” by people liking a certain videogame then the issue exists solely in your mind my friend.

genuinely what sucks most about this is that you are absolutely the person who would most benefit from the lessons Dark Souls has to teach you, but you’re so allergic to self-improvement or trying new things that there’s no point explaining it to you because you’ll resist it on principle. maybe if you stopped worrying so much about whether or not you will have fun & just played Dark Souls you would be capable of understanding but you genuinely seem unable to try new things

[stromuprisahat]

"I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream."

Siege and Storm- Chapter 15

Oh nein! Mal has issues! With consequences of his actions he should be grateful for, and his girl not sharing every waking thought with him, when her worst worries spring from his most hated topics- the Darkling and her role in politics.

And Alina once again feels responsible for his feelings.

Yeah, this would have a bit more weight, if Alina didn't do it only for appearances' sake. Or if she granted the position due to merit, not random pick of what she views as the lowest low. Or if she didn't continue speaking as if she were a narrator of wildlife documentary, describing a new species of animal that just appeared.

Not necessarily, but it's one of Alina's less far-fetched deductions.

Aleksander could've been aware of David's fascination with Morozova's work. He could've picked the most skilled in bonework or the one most experienced in forging amplifiers- they're supposed to be rare, so not many Fabricators will have that.

*mumbles* And somehow we're to believe this pragmatic man chose to follow Alina, because... ? She's the good one, or whatever?!

*chants* Double agent Kaminsky, double agent Kaminsky!

Alina: Why would you want to kill this man! How horrible! At least question him first!

She would make a delightful morally flexible character, if she were acknowledged as such, and embracing that quality.

Says who? Zoya?

He KeEpS mE So BuSy!

Saints, Alina, you can't believe everything people say about themselves!

Alina: I'm not sure my three months of training are enough, but I can do like two things with my powers, so let's focus on increasing them further AND on the mythical forbidden art that created my goal no. 1 in the first place. I bet nothing can go wrong...

Only signing? Not reading to get into picture? And who prepares them?!

Bureaucracy, baby!

Welcome to responsibility!

I would sympathize with Alina much more, if she showed genuine interest in those she doesn't know. If her motivation weren't merely "Do the opposite of (what I think) the Darkling did". I she truly believed in her own philosophy.

Shocking!

People forced to sit next to half-strangers they're not used to interact with, create unpleasant atmosphere!

My work experience considered- you're lucky there's no visible enmity- you could've made the wrong people sit next to each other and tableware could've ended up in wrong bodyparts.

Also: How is Nadia sitting next to Marie? I thought breaking up already existing friend groups was a point of this whole exercise.

They're not gifts, Nikolai. They're just your father's property, but let's remember the Darkling didn't wait for the Queen to request a specific one's service, and turned it into a gesture of his own thoughtfulness. Fuck his strategems!

Alina's misplaced sensibilities are incredibly frustrating.

She wants to lead Second Army, but not order them, not assign them tasks directly, because that would somehow make her a bad person, instead of efficient leader.

What if no one will volunteer? What if weak, incompetent Squallers will? You don't look at special assignment and think- Yeah, whoever wants to do it... You PICK the most capable person with both sufficient skills AND suitable personality.

Awwww!

Poor granny deserves an Oscar!

[eoieopda]

meet me at the bar: epilogue

pairing: kim seokjin x reader type: drabble — meet me at the bar’s epilogue au: law school/bar exam, est. relationship word count: 1.2k rating: pg13 genre: fluff summary: as it turns out, there is life after the bar exam. a/n: i suppose this does make sense outside the context of the one-shot, but i def recommend reading that first ✨ like the OG, this epilogue is dedicated to mj (@yoongiphoria), who army (get it? 👀) crawled through the ringer and lived to tell the tale! so excited to eventually welcome you to the profession, bb 💕 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Seokjin sits at a small cafe table. In front of him sit two things: one he’s sure of and one he’s not.

“This is barbaric,” you mutter under your breath. 

You hit the refresh button on your browser again, the same way you have — on a second-by-second basis — since you both sat down. Crazed, your eyes flick up to Seokjin. You repeat yourself emphatically, “Barbarism, Seokjin. Do you hear me?”

He tries his best to keep a straight face, so he pulls his coffee mug to his lips and hides his smile behind the rim. You look back down again before you can even see him nod in agreement. Of course, you go right back to assaulting the touchpad of your laptop.

You’re not wrong, not in the slightest. The Office of Bar Admissions just put you through the most treacherous experience of your academic and professional lives, and it wasn’t done fucking with you. Now that you’d survived the exam itself, you had to sit and wait — not just for your results, but for potential public humiliation.

Everyone who has a stake in this exam — test takers and prospective employers — and anyone who doesn’t — friends, relatives, professors, underclassmen, sundry assholes, etc. — can log onto this extremely public, government website at eight o’clock this morning. If they do, they’ll see a list of names: every single person that passed this exam and would be admitted to the practice of law.

Likewise, anyone can easily find out whose names are missing. Broadcasted at lightning speed, your business becomes everyone else’s. Whether you want to or not, you have to share your greatest success — or biggest disappointment — with whoever the fuck might want to look for it.

Scrubbing your anxious hands over your face, you sigh, “I think I’d rather stand naked in the middle of Lotte World. I mean it; that would be infinitely less horrifying than this.”

“For you, maybe.” 

Seokjin grins, sets his mug down, and nudges your untouched plate closer to you. On any other morning, you would’ve inhaled that breakfast sandwich by now. Today, however, you’re on a self-imposed hunger strike until you have answers.

“For the unsuspecting onlookers, I think that would be a criminal offense.”

You roll your eyes, but when you reset them, you’re looking straight at him.

It’s the way anyone would dream of being looked at, he thinks. Like every annoying thing about him is still somehow endearing, worth loving — and that little smile of yours is all for him. Just like that, he’s blushing in the middle of a café, not giving a shit who sees.

Crashing through his thoughts, the alarm you set goes off with a wail, like you’re being summoned to an air-raid shelter rather than notified of the time. You scurry to grab it. Fumbling to turn that siren off, you cast panicked glances around the room to find anyone you might owe an apology for startling. As usual, it’s just the two of you.

You spit it all out so fast that Seokjin can hardly keep up.

“Will you still love me if I shit myself in the café? Because I fucking might, and I need to know if a break-up is going to be added to my list of rejections this morning.” 

There are nervous talkers, and then there’s you. You worry in X-Games mode like it’s nobody’s business — and honestly, it’s kind of impressive.

“My whole family is going to know before I can even disclose failure myself and I —”

Seokjin doesn’t know if anything he might say would comfort you, but he’s at least slightly worried that you’ll anxiety-barf onto your laptop. To minimize the collateral damage, he reaches across the table, picks it up, and pulls it over to his side. 

As if he just pulled the plug on your life-support machines, you slump down into your chair. There, your head droops against the metal back with a small thud. You then stare up at the ceiling like you’re actively watching your soul leave your body.

“No matter what happens, we’ll be okay.” He assures you while refreshing the browser. “I promise.”

Funnily enough, trying to keep you calm has made him feel the most stable he ever has. One of you has to keep your collective shit together; and it’s clearly not going to be you, so he’s committed to remaining zipped on your behalf. His fingers don’t even shake as he scrolls down that godforsaken list, scanning with narrowed eyes.

“Well?” You urge.

After a few seconds of listening to your knee bouncing underneath the table, Seokjin closes your laptop and sets it down slowly. He takes a deep, measured breath before he finally looks back up at you. With how unabashedly freaked out you are, it’s a miracle that he can’t feel your pulse from the other side of the table.

“So, I have bad news —” He starts with a sigh.

You freeze.

“— We can’t add esquire to our email signatures until after we’re sworn in, which will apparently be two weeks from now.”

The last thought Seokjin has before being tackled to the ground is that he’s thankful nobody else came in for coffee this morning. 

The first thought he has when he reopens his eyes, now flat on his back, and sees that insane look on your face — a mix of terror, annoyance, disbelief, and excitement — is that he was right when he decided never to doubt you. More importantly, he was right that you truly are capable of anything.

Up to and including public displays of aggression.

Damn does he love you.

You sit back on your heels but you don’t make any moves to get off of him. With a shaky laugh, you say, “I think I have to kill you for that.”

“Understandable,” he demurs, shrugging. Then, he reaches up to swipe a tear off your cheek with the pad of his thumb, smiling sweetly. “Just don’t represent yourself at trial over it, okay?”

Playfully, you swat at his chest before clambering off of him. Once you make it steadily to your feet, the same hand that smacked him is held out to help him up. He takes it without hesitation.

Back at his full height, he accepts the arms you lace around his neck, swoons just a little when you push up on tiptoe. You kiss him softly, but it hits hard. That gentle brush of your lips makes his knees so weak that he fears he’ll end up on the ground again. 

You pull away breathy. Though your eyes are a little bit misty, you grin like you can’t help it. For the record, he can’t, either. You sigh, “I genuinely cannot believe that I survived this bullshit.”

“Really?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows raised.

His arms wrap around your waist to hold you closer, allowing you to nestle your face into his sweatshirt. He means it, so he says it with his whole chest and hopes you hear it: “I was sure you would.”

“Don’t think I would’ve been able to do it without you,” you mumble into the fabric.

“You could have,” he murmurs. Leaning down, he kisses the top of your head before continuing, “But you didn’t have to.”

The two of you stand like that for a while — wholly entangled in the middle of a café, in broad ass daylight — without speaking. It helps him try to wrap his brain around it all. After all, the landscape is different now than it was an hour ago; and unless he’s fully lost it, Seokjin swears that the grass really is greener.

For the first time ever, he doesn’t feel the weight of the dreaded unknown pushing down on his shoulders. He just feels you leaning against him and an unfamiliar sense of peace. All of that gratification he’s delayed his whole life, too, as it falls right into his hands.

But Seokjin’s not great with that whole thoughtful silence thing, so he smirks, “Gonna call me counselor in bed now, jagi?”

Your head snaps back so quickly, you could’ve decapitated yourself. Incredulous, your eyes narrow as your mouth pops open. Instantly, the look on your face pulls that windshield wiper laugh out of him; so, he slaps his hand over his mouth to keep quiet.

You challenge him with eyebrows raised sky-high. “Gonna make me file a cease and desist letter?”

[haddonfieldwhore]

scary dog privilege: epilogue- ethan landry

ethan landry x alt! reader

❤️🔪 spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

❤️🔪 spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

3.6k words // part 4

warnings: mentions of death, language, angst, toxic relationship, mention of scars (not sh)

i wasn’t going to write an epilogue for this story but i was inspired by these songs so i recommend listening to them while reading! <3

🎧 epilogue playlist 🎧

❥ taglist: @breadbowser @lillunna @fanboyluvr @wroetoslut @gojosbucket @not3rracha @wenvierismycomfort @homebyeleven

a month had gone by since you received that text message, and whoever it was still sent messages every few days. after the first one, it was nearly a week before you heard from him again; whoever it was. you had managed to ignore the messages for the most part; not replying because really…what could you say?

a few days after you got out of the hospital, where you had spent about 2 weeks recovering from your injuries, you got another text.

unknown number: i know you’re probably mad… but i hope you’re okay

you had scoffed at that one, thinking that if it really was who you thought it to be, he was out of his mind; even more so that you thought. probably mad was the understatement of the century; him and his family had tried to kill you and your friends. perhaps you were not a target specifically, just quite literally in the wrong place at the wrong time. you couldn’t believe you had only known ethan for 3 days, you felt like you had known him so much longer. and then, it turned out that you didn’t know him at all.

you ran your hand over your face as another text came in. you were sitting on the couch with mindy at sam and tara’s apartment. after what had happened, the sisters had moved into a new place, not wanting to stay where they had lived with quinn, and where anika had died. chad, not wanting to stay in the dorm he had once shared with ethan had moved in with them. mindy had also moved in with them, the core four now living under one roof. you hadn’t told any of them about the text messages, because part of you wanted to believe it wasn’t really him, because it couldn’t be ethan; he had been stabbed near 8 times and left for dead.

or could it be? chad had survived a similar attack after all. and ethan could’ve been wearing some kind of protective thing under the ghostface outfit for all you knew. but if ethan had survived the police would’ve taken him, or you would’ve heard that he had got away. right? there was however the small part of you, that hoped it really was ethan; that it was the shy, curly haired boy who sat at the table next to you in class, not the killer who had attacked you and the people you now called friends.

“you okay?” mindy asked, she hadn’t noticed the text, only looking your way when she heard you sigh a little too loud.

“yeah- sorry just a headache. i think i’m just stressed about exams- you know?”

“i think we all deserve a pass if we fail the exams this semester,” she replied, and you laughed.

“you’re right,” you agreed, happy that she believed your lie. you had grown closer with mindy than you had ever thought possible, after how the two of you started off. you tried not to hold her initial suspicions against her, considering everything she had been through. you had in fact grown rather close with all of them, as you had welcomed sam’s invitation to become friends. the older carpenter sister had on more than one occasion offered you a shoulder to cry on, her similar experience of her boyfriend turning out to be the killer giving her the ability to understand your feelings, despite the different circumstances. however, you knew you could never tell her, or anyone for that matter, about this- so you declined her offer every time.

“i think i’m gonna head out, i’ve got to be up early to study before class tomorrow. we’ve got that practice test and i haven’t even opened a textbook yet,” you admitted. sam and tara offered for you to stay the night, but you declined, opting to sleep in your own bed instead. you said your goodbyes, getting hugs from all your new friends before you started on the stairs down to the lobby. you felt your phone buzz in your pocket again, and you stopped. making sure no one was around, you opened the message.

unknown number: please stop ignoring me. let me explain

explain what? you thought. that he didn’t really mean to go on a killing spree with his father and sister? you slid your phone back in your pocket, continuing down the steps, but stopped again as you felt your phone vibrate again.

unknown number: i know you’re reading these. please just talk to me

you didn’t care if he knew you were reading the messages, you had nothing to say to him. that’s not true a voice in your head said, and you sighed to yourself, but your conscience was right. you had a thousand things you wanted to say to him. you wanted to yell and scream at him for what he did. you wanted to tell him how terrified you had been, that night when he attacked you all in sam and tara’s apartment. how when you closed your eyes you could still see anikas body laying in the alley, how when it was cold outside you could still feel a pain in your back where his sister had stabbed you and left you for dead.

you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him you were sorry, sorry that his father had dragged him and his sister into his twisted revenge fantasy. how you were sorry that his father made him feel like he would never be as good of a son as his brother had been; that he would never love him the way he had loved richie. you wanted to tell him how glad you were that he was okay, how while it made your stomach drop everytime the unknown number showed up on your phone screen, it also made your heart skip a beat.

you wanted to tell him you hated him, but you deep down you knew that if you did you would be lying.

i need to get my head checked, you thought as you hailed a cab and gave the driver your address, closing your eyes as you tried to think about anything else.

•

another two weeks went by, and while your physical wounds had healed, the emotional dilemma you were in had only gotten worse. you had continued receiving messages from the unknown number, and they were getting harder to ignore. you found yourself staring at the empty seat in the study hall everytime you had econ, until finally you stopped going all together. this meant you had no classes this afternoon, nothing to take your mind off of the curly haired boy you found yourself missing more and more. maybe it was time, or maybe it was denial about what had happened.

you walked through the campus, on your way to meet up with your friends at their apartment, when your phone buzzed in your bag. you sighed, but decided not to look at it. maybe it wasn’t even him you thought, and continued walking towards the subway. it was probably just chad asking you to pick up snacks on your way over, you would check it on the train, you decided. but as your phone vibrated again, you stopped, looking around the campus. could he be here? could he see you? you wondered, and then realized that was stupid. if it really was ethan, if he really had survived and disappeared from the crime scene, he would be stupid to go somewhere this public, with so many people who might recognize him.

ignoring the second text message, you had almost reached the stairs down to the subway platform when you felt a third message come through. finally caving, you stepped to the side of the pavement, sitting down on a bench and taking your phone out of your bag.

unknown number: i miss you

unknown number: please

unknown number: talk to me

you rolled your eyes. maybe if you told him to leave you alone he would. unlikely, you decided. and put your phone in your pocket before getting up and descending the stairs, and boarding the subway.

as you stood in the packed train car, you thought back to the day on the subway with ethan. the way his arms had held you so close, the way he made you feel so safe. how stupid you had been, to trust him when you barely knew him. you had believed every lie, everytime he told you it wasn’t him, that he wouldn’t hurt you.

you found yourself wondering if you were loosing your mind for thinking it really could be ethan texting you. it would’ve been reported on the news if his body hadn’t been found, there’s no way they could have covered that up, right? it must just be some prank; someone must have found out about you and ethan and though it would be funny to make you believe he was still out there. from what you had seen of the conspiracies about sam, there could definitely be someone cruel enough to find joy in tormenting you. deciding it was finally time to let go of the shred of hope you had that he really was alive somewhere, and that he could go back to being the sweet, shy boy you had fallen for, you opened you phone and went to the message thread, your thumb hovering over the “block number” button.

before you could click it however, an incoming call took up on the screen; displaying the unknown number. you jumped slightly, earning a few weird looks from people on the train, before you declined the call. the train slowed down, and you realized you were at your stop. rushing off the train, you tried to calm down as you walked up the stairs to the street, heading down the block towards your apartment. whoever it was had never tried to call you before; why call you now? what had changed?

you reached the front door of your apartment and entered your security code, opening the heavy door with a loud creak and letting it slam shut behind you. walking up the many flights of stairs, you reached your front door and unlocked the door, the three deadbolts you had installed clicking as you turned them once you were inside. you got changed, grabbing a few snacks from your pantry and throwing them in your bag as well as some pyjamas and a change of clothes in case you decided to crash at your friends apartment once you got there. your phone vibrated again, but this time it was just tara asking if you were on your way over yet.

sending back a “leaving now :)” you slid on a jacket and headed out the door again, locking it behind you before heading back to the lobby. waiting for a cab outside your building, your phone rang for a second time today. for a moment you considered answering it, but declined it instead, getting the attention of a taxi and giving the driver directions to the coffee shop down the block from the core fours apartment; you could never be too careful, and the last thing you needed was their address getting out and some creep breaking in or attacking one of you.

the cab let you out at the cafe, and you paid the driver before starting your walk down the block. it was still light out, early in the afternoon, so you didn’t mind walking the 5 minutes it would be to get there. you were nearing the building when your phone rang again, the same number that had been texting you flashing across the screen. deciding that enough was enough, you picked it up, placing it you your ear and leaning against the side of a building, out of the way of people walking on the sidewalk.

“listen dickhead: if this is some kind of joke, i want you to strongly reconsider fucking with me; i’m not in the mood.” you snapped.

“it’s nice to hear your voice. even if you are threatening me,” ethan said, and you felt a pang in your chest. he really was alive, undeniably his voice on the other end of the line.

“how the hell are you alive?” you asked, stepping into the alley next to the building you stopped in front of so no one could overhear the conversation; just to be safe.

“i guess i just got lucky,” he laughed, before his voice turned serious again. “honestly i don’t know. i thought i was gonna die.”

“i wish you had.”

“you don’t mean that. if you did you wouldn’t have answered the phone.” he replied, and you sighed, as much as you hated to admit it he was right.

“i regret that i did. if you call me again i’ll tell the police.” you threatened. “goodbye e-“ you started to say, but he cut you off.

“if you were going to call the police you would’ve when i first texted you. and besides- they’d never find me. having a cop for a dad kinda teaches you how to hide from police, ya know?”

“how do you know i didn’t already tell them? maybe they’re listening right now.” you retorted, and he was silent for a second.

“did you?” he asked genuinely, but there wasn’t any fear in his voice.

“no,” you rolled your eyes. “look, what the hell do you want?”

“will you meet me somewhere?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“do you think i’m an idiot? you really think i’m gonna go meet you somewhere after i watched you kill someone?” you whispered the last part.

“i know- i know. just.. five minutes. that’s all i’m asking.”

“you have some nerve to ask me for anything after what you did.”

“i……i just want to see you,” he sighed.

“in case you’ve forgotten, the last time i saw you i almost died, ethan,” you spat, looking around to make sure no one heard you.

“i never wanted you to get hurt.”

“i have a scar on my shoulder that would prove otherwise.”

“i wasn’t - im sorry. i don’t know what else to say.”

“then don’t. goodbye ethan.” you said before hanging up.

•

you didn’t receive any texts or calls the rest of the night, thankfully, as your friends were already suspicious of how quiet you were being all night. you brushed it off as being tired from studying all day, and thankfully it was a believable enough lie that they didn’t really question it. in reality, the guilt of not immediately telling them about ethan was eating you alive. he had hurt them so much, and here you were protecting him; hiding the fact that he was still alive.

you arrived back at your apartment the next morning, locking the door as you got inside and dropping your bag on the floor. you walked into your bedroom and flopped onto the bed, running your hands over your face. you took your phone from your pocket, and without realizing it, checked to see if ethan had messaged you. you typed out half of a “where are you-“ text before you froze as you realized what you were doing. erasing it, you were about to put your phone down, when it rang.

“you called- i told you not to,” you snapped.

“you answered. i didn’t think you would,” he shot back, and you rolled your eyes, kicking yourself for not declining the call.

“yeah so i could tell you to go fuck yourself. leave me alone.” you replied, and he paused.

“is that what you really want?” he asked.

“yes,” you said.

“i don’t believe you.”

“i mean it,” you replied. “i don’t want you to text me, i don’t want you to call me, i don’t ever want to see you again. i want you to disappear forever and never come back,” you said, angry tears forming in your eyes.

“if that’s what you really want then i’ll do it. just tell me one thing,” he replied.

“what?” you sighed.

“do you really hate me?” he asked. you were silent for a moment- perhaps trying to think of an answer, perhaps too surprised that he had the nerve to ask you that to reply.

“i…“ you stuttered after a moment.

“that’s all i needed to know,” he cut you off, and you swore you could hear a smile in his voice, before he hung up. your mouth hung open, before you groaned in frustration as you tried to gather your thoughts. your phone buzzed in your hand, and you read the message that had come through.

unknown number: in case you change your mind //insert address//

you stared at your phone. had he really just told you were he was? or was it a location he could see, that he could tell if you were there and he could meet you? or was it a trap, and you’d show up just to get killed, this whole thing just an elaborate plot to get you alone so he could finish you off.

you knew that last one wasn’t true, no matter how much you’d like to convince yourself that he was pure evil, you were still holding onto the ethan that you had fallen for; the boy you thought he was. you couldn’t stop yourself from typing a message back this time.

you: i should send the entire nypd after you

unknown number: but you won’t

you: i’m still debating

unknown number: sure you are

•

it had been a week since you had told him not to call you, and to your surprise he hadn’t. not a single text or call since you threatened to send the police to the address he gave you. of course he was right; you hadn’t done it. you found yourself wishing he would text you, just to gloat that he had been right, but he didn’t.

you felt like you were on autopilot as your legs carried you down the stairs to the lobby of your apartment, and out the front door. the entire cab ride you felt as if you were watching someone else make a terrible decision, like you were screaming at the tv screen for a character to stop making a bad choice. it wasn’t until you got out of the cab, and your feet touched solid ground that you felt like you were no longer in a trance. deciding there was no going back now as the taxi pulled away, you walked up the front steps of the run down looking building. it was only a few stories tall, made of crumbling bricks, with walls covered in graffiti ,and you internally regretted coming here so late in the day, the sun already beginning to set.

pulling on the door handle, you noticed the lock was broken and the electronic security system wasn’t functional, as you walked right in. going up the stairs, you walked down the hallway to a door marked with a 3, and hesitated; f you did this there was no going back. you raised your hand and knocked lightly on the door. your heart pounded in your chest as you waited, and you jumped at the sound of the lock turning, and the door opened to reveal ethan, a grey hoodie hiding most of his face until he realized it was you. he looked shocked to see you, like he didn’t expect you to actually show up, and he removed his hood, freeing his brown curls that you loved so much.

“you came,” he said, stepping back to invite you into the apartment.

“i don’t forgive you. i don’t know if i ever will,” you began, still not walking inside.

“what are you doing here then?” he asked, unable to hide the gleam in his eyes.

“i - im not sure,” you admitted.

“are you going to come in? it’s cold.” he asked. you hadn’t noticed, but he was right; it was freezing in the narrow hallway. against your better judgment, you stepped into the apartment, and he shut the door before turning around to face you, watching as you looked around.

it was a small apartment, nothing fancy by any means. there was a living room area with a couch and a coffee table, with a kitchen off to the side, just a few counters and a sink, a stove and a fridge. there was a hallway that you assumed led to the bedroom and bathroom. you wondered to yourself how he paid for it, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind, with all the other questions you had, like “how did you get away” and “how does no one know you’re alive”.

the floorboards creaked under your feet as you walked over and to the couch and sat down, ethan joining you hesitantly, trying to gauge your reaction as he sank into the cushion next to you.

“i don’t know what to say except i’m sorry-“

“i’m not here to talk,” you interrupted, and he looked at you confused. “maybe tomorrow i’ll kick and scream and tell you how much i hate you,” you continued. “but for tonight i’m just glad you’re okay.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. to say that ethan was shocked would be an understatement, but he held you close, content knowing that there was at least a small part of you that still cared for him; and that was something he could hold onto.

ethan leaned back, laying down on the couch and pulling you on top of him. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hands rubbing gently circles on your back, sliding under your shirt slightly to allow his fingertips to trace over the scars left behind by the knife quinn stabbed you with.

“i’m so sorry-“ he whispered, kissing the top of your head. tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you held them shut tightly and you snuggled into the crook of his neck.

“i know,” you replied.

“what can i do- to prove it?” he asked.

“just… hold me; without any talking.”

his arms tightened around you, his body heat keeping you warm in the cold apartment. maybe in the morning you would regret this, maybe it was the biggest mistake of your life. but for now, you let yourself fall asleep, ethan’s fingers tracing patterns on your skin under your shirt.

and you realized, even after everything, despite all common sense, you felt safe knowing he was next to you.

- end -

❥ thank you for reading! this was heavily inspired by this song. i know the end is corny as hell but oh well! i’ve had so much fun writing this and i love ethan so much. i hope you enjoyed

Could you hold me without any talking?

We could try to go back where we started

I don't even have to stay don't even have to stay, but

If I woke up with you in the morning

I'd forget all the ways that we're broken

I don’t care if you've changed

I don't even have to stay

- stay, gracie abrams

[internetskiff]

The parallels in Ultrakill between Life and the Afterlife, man.. The Machines aren't unlike Hell Itself. Both are beings of insatiable hunger. Both experience unending boredom. Both yearn for violence as a relief from it all, and both spread their influence like a cancer upon everything. Perhaps this is why Hell almost seems to welcome machines deeper into itself. Not only are they entertaining - their cruelty inspires it, or whoever carves the demons that are at it's disposal. Both were created by the hands of another, a once superior being they have surpassed and outlived. Perhaps it sees them as kindred. Sees them as something symbiotic, both alike in purpose - to enact violence on those trapped within itself. Both could stand eternal together - after all, plenty of blood to go around, plenty of meat for the grinder, no? Does it realize they'll just keep feeding until there's nothing left? Does it think it can stop them? Does it want to be wiped clean? If it hungers, is it afraid to die? The machines certainly are. This whole crusade is about delaying the inevitable. As long as there is a Machine left standing in Hell, it is fated to run dry. All that would be left is an empty carcass filled with nothing but monuments to cruelty, frozen in time forever with no audience left to appraise them.

Angels, meanwhile, are not so different from humanity in their ways. From what little we know of them, they, too, are full of arrogance and hubris just like humanity, that built the machine that devoured it's creator and went on to devour itself. Hell seems to be the cause of Heaven's fracture. It is the root of the Father's guilt. It's creation set His eventual disappearance in motion. It snuffed the fire out, directly or indirectly. And without guidance, Heaven split and began to consume itself in cruel war. The only thing that kept Heaven from sharing Earth's fate is the Council, that took advantage of the chaos and swiftly took control and unified the Angels once again. But that doesn't mean they put a stop to Heaven's cruelty - in fact, I'd argue they only stoked the flame, kept those beneath them complacent through fear. But at least Heaven regained structure, though it seems like it's a mere shell of what it used to be. The Father is gone. They follow an echo, a memory - or perhaps simply a lie. Still, it's a necessary lie, no? An almost noble one? It's not, of course, at most it's a lesser evil compared to the inferno of warfare, but is there really any other alternative? When Gabriel slaughtered them and showed the rest of Heaven their weakness, did he really do what was right? Heaven had no hand to guide them anymore. It was severed. All that's left is a bloodied stump. How long will it take before the rot spreads, before Heaven erupts into warfare once more? Gabriel can't stop it - he'll be dead soon. If he - one of the most respected and revered angels in the highest ranks - cannot stop the chaos, who can? There's no one left. No one will trust the empty promises of order ever again, seeing how easy it is to destroy.

The world will eat itself out of existence. This is the only way it should end. There is no other way it could end. It's all too far gone. What would be left would either starve and join it's brethren in stillness, or eviscerate itself in one final act of violence. No final words. No concluding statement. No point. Perfect closure.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi I just have a question and I mean to ask it as respectfully as possible

When did people start head cannoning Regulus as trans? I just dont understand how people came to that conclusion?

I’m also just very uneducated on the trans community and I know that and just don’t really know where to get reliable information about the whole community and the people in it.

Idk in my opinion I just almost feel like people made Regulus trans to meet a diversity quota. I also feel like it kind of takes away from the fact that James could be genuinely attracted to biological males? Like maybe people are still so attached to Jily that they can’t truly let go of it even in his other ship?

Sorry I just really would like to see the point of view from someone who is part of the trans community (correct me if I’m wrong on that please) and also enjoys and writes trans Regulus. It really just makes me sad that I don’t read so many fanfics that I’m sure are absolutely beautiful just because I’m a little put off by Regulus (or even Remus) being trans.

Anyway I’d love to hear the reasoning you have and I’m so sorry if any of this came off as offensive or rude🫶

Okay, so to answer your first question, the first fic in ao3 tagged with trans! Regulus Black is dated in March 2016, so 8 years ago. (I see a Jegulus fic tagged in 2005, for comparison).

As far as people coming to the conclusion of reg being trans, I think it's just people seeing themselves in the character, or enjoying the headcanon. It's not like...deciding it IS canon. If that makes sense?

For information on the community, I'm not sure what you mean. Like information in being trans? If you have questions on that, I'm more than willing to answer them! I can point you to reliable websites or try to give you my own experience.

I don't think it's 'meeting a diversity quota.' I think it's that Harry Potter is genuinely super NOT diverse. Canonically, most characters are straight, cis, and white. And fanfiction writers like to write what they want and what they relate to. Many fanfic writers know trans people/are trans, so it's natural to include trans people in their works. It's not meeting a quota, it's just emulating their lives.

And as far as James's attraction..sure, he can be attracted to people with any genitals. But I think you're missing the point that trans Regulus IS a boy. Your body doesn't equal your gender. So when James is attracted to him, he is attracted to a boy. He is, therefore, gay (or at least queer) by being attracted to Regulus. Very gently, seeing trans Regulus as a substitution for Lily because they might have similar bodies is a bit transphobic. Though body parts can be important to some people, putting Regulus and Lily on the same plane is a bit off. (Also, many people headcanon James as pansexual, meaning he can be attracted to any gender, so he doesn't care what gender people are.) You ARE right in saying that some people probably do think this way though. But it's not okay.

As far as not liking the headcanon of trans!Regulus or trans!Remus or whoever...I don't think that's a bad thing IN THEORY. For example, I don't see Harry as trans. There are some Drarry fics which have trans!Harry and I don't read them, because that's not my headcanon. Fanfics are for your enjoyment, and you don't have to force yourself to read them if they don't share your specific headcanons. I would just think about WHY you're not reading these fics. If you just see these characters as cis, then that's fine! But if it's because you might need more education of transness and what it means to be trans, then maybe take the time to educate yourself and go from there, you know?

I hope that helps!

(Also if anyone wants to chime in in the comments, you're welcome to, but please be respectful, this was a genuine question)

[silkspiderrr]

Feedist kinktober #1: Gift

If you're the type of nightowl who doesn't mind a bit of danger and intrigue with your drunken carousing you might one night find yourself talking with a dark and charismatic stranger who buys you drinks but never imbibes. And if you manage to say the right things and ask the right questions this shadowy individual will invite you to a place of pleasures otherwise undetectable to the uninitiated.

The Regalo is an exclusive club catering to a highly particular clientelle, where hazy red lighting illuminates leather clad furniture that seats two types of patrons. In order to ensure business runs smoothly they are governed by a strict set of rules; the most important one being that what is sought by the one crowd must be given willingly by the other.

If you're new here you're sure to be greeted warmly by it's black-clad bar lurkers. Like vultures they flock to a new face, encircling you with honeyed words and sequestering you away to a comfortable booth. You begin to melt as they hungrily caress your flushed cheeks with their cold hands, at which point they start casually offering you their dark indulgences...

Normally you could only give them 14 percent of what they want without complications. Go over fifty and you won't live to see the day. But the Regalo has a solution: Chocolate cakes and bonbons, grilled lamb and duck confit, seafood that melts in your mouth and lavishly decorated pastries. Whoever works the kitchen has a special touch for which patrons pay an extraoridinary price. And when you give in and open your mouth to receive the luxuries offered to you from all sides you get to experience their unearthly quality; your face flushes and your heartbeat rises as you instinctively open up for the next bite, carried on a wave of praise and sultry affections. Their cool fingers are a welcome sensation on your hot body. Slowly but surely they guide you through the entire menu, filling you up bite by bite. The more you consume the more greedy they seem to become. And it's not long before a request is whispered into your ear.

You finally begin to realize what you have gotten yourself into, but pleasure has taken it's toll on your judgement and you can only moan and nod in agreement.

The sharp jab you feel is nearly lost in the sea of pleasures. You gasp and there's some laughter as your mouth is quickly stuffed with another bite, and the pain starts to give way to an unusual sensation both relaxing and invigorating. A strange mix of panic and calm, like the feeling of falling while laying in bed.

You sink deeper into pleasure as others begin to join in, their frigid lips pressing intimately against your quivering skin. Their once cold and malnourished bodies flush and bulge as they take their share, glowing with your blissfull heat and swelling against you. Studded belts and ornate corsets that now fail to contain their bloated bodies are hastily undone to make room for more.

The balance has shifted, and you smugly put your arms around the dazed cretins desperately enjoying your enhanced constitution...

You are stirred awake several hours later by a disgruntled barkeep, naked and messy but in a comfortable bed, who hands you a bathrobe and guides you out the door to close up.

The other patrons have long since left.

You protest and demand your clothes back, but the barkeeper simply chuckles and shakes his head before locking the door.

On your shameful walk home in the dim morning light you reflect on your hazy memories, wondering what parts of your experience at this weird goth club where real, but when you arrive home and examine yourself in the mirror you find yourself noticeably plumper, easily two sizes up from the day before, and covered in bite marks.

Perhaps you will visit that place again, you didn't even spend a dime after all...

[titanslayyyer]

NIGHTS LIKE THIS. Jean Kirstein

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 . . . sophomore year of college holds things you never thought the universe would choose you to experience.  you find yourself strolling this long and winding road without the one person who was supposed to guide you through everything, but with your chosen family-- a group of loud-mouthed friends who wouldn't dare let you lose yourself again.

Though, a new-found face with a troubled past has made his way into your life, and you find yourselves butting heads before you can even build a true bond, only for hearts to mesh together and form something like no other.

WARNINGS/WHAT TO EXPECT: modern college au set at a real school, slowburn-ish, heavy underage drinking and use of drugs, explicit sexual content, mentions of suicide and themes of trauma, hurting, weird love triangle, reader is a musician (guitarist) FEM READER

CHAPTER 1: WHERE WE BELONG

“Pool House” by the Backseat Lovers plays loudly from the radio in your Jeep Wrangler as you drive down ward memorial boulevard with all of the windows down and two packs of vodka seltzers on the floor of the passenger side. 

The familiar California breeze hits your cheeks and the salty smell of the Pacific coast calms your nerves, setting a nonchalant smile across your face.

Palm trees sway in the distance, and to your left waves shimmer under the September sun as Henley Gate welcomes you.

Everywhere you look on the campus of UC Santa Barbara people are buzzing around, an array of different words are spoken at once and a thousand different voices share conversation. 

Sophomore year of college is on the rise, the hustle and bustle of move-in weekend never being something to mess around with and this year was no different then the last. . . people of all sorts riding bikes to their next destination, saying goodbye to their parents, and everything else under the sun.

Here, it didn’t matter where you came from whether it was across the country or from Europe, or the highschool drama you were the center of. You could be whoever you wanted to be. 

You have no plan, no guide on how to do things right. . . but you knew that this is where you had to be.

Your older sister Cassie, formerly a junior here, passed away the summer before your senior year of highschool. 

This left a dent in your world, and you knew that things would never be the same despite the path of better things in your wake. 

She was always there for you, to prepare you for the worst and teach you another lesson you would never forget. She left you a video for your first night away from home, telling you that “all you have to do is endure and survive, because no matter what there are people that you’ll fit in with.’ and  her words lingered in your head like the worst hangover of your life 

Passing her memorial tree near the lagoon hit the hardest, but you did it no matter what.

Seeing her picture, the flowers scattered and the ones that grew, and the cards from friends that were laid out always caused your heart to ache. There were even a few of the remains of candles from her vigil so long ago. 

People who you had no idea existed would come up to you and hug you, saying how sorry they were for ‘what happened.’ and that your sister was one of the best things that happened to this world. They weren’t wrong. She was almost a saint.

There was no avoiding it either, because your family didn’t handle it well.

Your father divorced your mother and is now somewhere down the coast, while your mother sips expensive wine and pops pills on the porch of your home pretending to be as happy as she possibly can. 

Your brother is two years older than you and is a senior at the same school, texting you every so often but for the most part he does his own thing with his own group of friends and surfing day and night to escape his own problems.

He doesn’t talk to your mother as much as he used to, speaking only when spoken to and hanging around your dad.

That’s just the way it goes, whether you like it or not.

You make your way down Ocean Road on your way to Isla Vista where five of your best friends, two of which had already arrived, would be unpacking their own things into the house you would be renting out for the school year.

Your stomach fills with an indescribable warmth, the feeling of excitement filling your body from your head down to your toes as you get closer and closer to the place you call home.

All along each street you pass, students are unpacking and some are already making their way down to the beach under the late afternoon sun in the tiniest bikinis, pedaling smoothly on pastel bikes.

You pull into the wide driveway of your rental, parking right behind Sashas' car whose back bumper and trunk were littered with hundreds upon hundreds of stickers she’d collected since she was gifted the car for her 16th birthday. 

There was a loud scream as you shut your car door, and a gush of happiness filled you up. 

You knew all too well that it was Sasha, who stumbled out the front door and down the steps to give you the biggest bear hug she could muster up.

Time feels as though it’s come to a major halt, your heart nearly stopping from the feeling of the arms you've missed so dearly.

“HIIIE!” She squeals, and you cant help but to laugh heartily into the crook of her neck while you two cradle each other as tightly as possible. 

In the year and a half that you’ve known her, you have learned everything about Sasha and she’s learned every little thing about you from the freckles on your waist to your oldest scars dating back to when you needed training wheels.

Without her life almost seemed boring and empty, and over the summer you found yourself on almost nightly facetime calls to update each other on your hectic lives.

“I’ve missed you so so much!” You cry, passing along the squeezing hug to Historia who followed closely behind Sasha just as excitedly. Her blue eyes nearly began to tear up as she smiled into you, giggling jubilantly. 

“Mmmm im gonna start bawling I’m so glad you made it.” Historia smiles, the two of you pulling out of your embrace and regrouping again as a trifecta. “I’m saying that as if the ride here was a Lord of the Rings-esque journey but still! You didn’t die!”

“I mean, The AC in my car wasn’t working while I was balls deep in traffic and I thought I was gonna have a heatstroke.” You chuckle restfully, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead, reminiscing of the early-evening bumper-to-bumper.

“Hah! I made it before all that.” Sasha boasts, and you roll your eyes, grinning. 

“Some of us weren’t as lucky!” You groan, throwing your arm around Sasha’s shoulders and falling into her as if you were fainting into her arms. 

The three of you laugh.

“We made some lemonade, too! If you wanna have a glass please do, because we accidentally made way too much.” Historia offers, motioning for you guys to follow her into the house, backpack and tote bag slung over your shoulders. 

You walk in to the living room- greeted by the gracious smell of bath and body works candles and the music of a Mt. Joy cd softly playing from a large stereo.

Your eyes wander over each wall and tiny little detail that you could pick out, from the white ‘L’ shaped couch in the corner, and the tv mounted on a small stand. There was a large dragon tree next to that, as well as a large gray chair. 

“Historia’s parents pitched in on the couch, chair, tv stand and coffee table.” Sasha informs you, sipping sweet lemonade from a red plastic cup and throwing herself onto the couch.

“We should run to target when Mikasa gets here.” You say, throwing out the offer.

“That would be so fun.” Sasha replies, nibbling on her straw. “We’ll have to get groceries eventually, but for now I told everyone to bring their favorite snacks.”

“Perfect! I have some chips and pretzels in my car, i’ll make sure to get them.” You say merrily, moving to make your way down the hallway past the kitchen.

You eye the room with a flamingo nametag sticker, sporting your name in big pink bubble letters – very obviously written by Historia.

You push open the door with a curious mind to see an empty bedframe along with a mattress and a nightstand, as well as a closet in the corner. The open window on the back wall looked straight out onto the ocean, where the waves recklessly crashed onto great rocks below and seeped onto the beach before retreating back into the tide.

Tossing your bags down next to the closet, a satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you leaned onto the window sill. . . soaking up the view you missed more than anything. 

Pulling back, you leave the open window and leave the quiet serenity of your own room to begin unpacking your things from your car with the uncertainty of what the upcoming year would hold. 

-

It took about an hour and a half, not counting the large break you took to greet Annie who stopped by for a quick hello, for you to unpack your belongings and organize your room exactly how you wanted it, listening to music during the process of building your desk and dresser and setting up your little guitar corner. 

Your sisters old cd player sat on the dresser, your cd collection in a holder right next to it. Your cds consisted of bands like Alice and Chains and No Doubt all the way to Surf Cruise and Tijuana Panthers. . .  a couple of which you had stolen from her bedroom when you were younger, and listened to most often.

Mikasa had sent you, Sasha and Historia a group snap of her in front of the Isla Vista sign, notifying you all of her arrival while you all sit on the back deck.

“I think Eren is with her.” Sasha says to you guys, snapping her a quick photo of you three.

“No wonder why she took so long.” You chortle, putting your phone down on the side table. “Where’s he staying?” 

“I think him, Connie, Armin, Reiner and Jean are in a place a couple streets over. At least thats what she told me.” Historia states, sucking down some of her lemonade. 

You had all met Eren and his friends Connie and Armin at a backyard party towards the middle of Freshman year when his band played. Eren wore a shirt with “CUM SLUT” in big letters on the back which Mikasa complimented him on tipsily.

Since then, the four of them have always stuck around. 

You’ve been to almost every soccer game, baseball, basketball and volleyball game together with them, and on various nights you would go out to eat at some cheap restaurant that you could only afford when you all pitched in.

“There you guys are.” 

You whip your heads to the nonchalant voice coming from the porch door. It’s Mikasa.

“Hii!” You smile, excitedly jumping up to wrap your arms around her in a tight embrace.

She returns the action, holding you as if she would break your bones if she gripped too hard. Her head is buried into you, and she breathes warm air into your skin. 

Whenever Mikasa hugs someone, she means it. 

“Get over here!” Sasha demands, jumping into the two of you. Historia follows, bundling up into this hug between you and all of your closest friends on the face of the earth. 

It’s hard not seeing the people you love for a while. 

These girls would be in your wedding. These girls would meet your first born. These are the girls that you’re going to graduate college with and have monthly visits with when you live in different places all along the country.

“This is real cute guys, yknow? totally adorbs.” Eren speaks from the doorway, arms crossed and a smug smile across his tan face. 

“Do you want one too or something?” You say, looking over at him. He reeked of weed and the cover-up of Ralph Lauren fragrance.

“I’m good! Thanks though.” He gives you a thumbs up

“That’s not how you sounded when you were crying like a baby last year.” You smirk, tilting your head slightly. “Besides I wouldn’t give you one anyways. You smell god-awful.” 

“Okay, fuck you. I was not crying like a baby.” Eren says sharply. “And I do not smell.”

“Don’t even try to defend yourself, dude.” Sasha snorts, throwing her hat onto the chair behind her and going in to serve your guests some lemonade and fetch herself one of the bags of chips that had been lazily thrown onto the counter.

“Mikasa, Help me out here,” Eren pleads to the girl, but Mikasa simply shakes her head and chuckles. “C’mon!” 

“Sorry, but you were.” She raises her hands in self-defense before reaching into the bag of chips generously brought out.

“You guys need to be put in an anti-bullying class.” Historia giggles, looking up from her phone, having spent a lot of the time texting her girlfriend Ymir.

“It’s not bullying, it’s harmless teasing.” Sasha says. 

“It’s not out fault he’s sensitive.” You snicker.

“It is bullying!” Eren shouts, walking out onto the porch and sitting down in one of the chairs that came with the rental. 

“Don’t be a drama queen.” Mikasa giggles, sitting down next to him.

Eren grunts and rolls his eyes as a response, scooting his chair closer to the table. 

You simply hum softly and sit yourself down next to Historia who speedily typed away, chuckling to herself every so often but remaining consistent in the conversation. 

Hours seemed to pass in such little time as you conversed, sun beginning to set below the horizon. Armin and Connie have since joined you guys, throwing snacks on the table while music plays from Connie’s waterproof speaker that he brings almost everywhere with him.

Your music choice was a collaborated playlist made last year, songs put in from everyone in your friend group and was played countless of times.

You talked about your summers, upcoming job interviews or ones that have passed, classes for the fall quarter, celebrity drama and anything else that came to mind. Eren, Connie and Armin gossiped about the newest beef with Floch who was starting things again with Eren. . . and from the way Floch is, you weren’t surprised. 

He’s a typical college douche with little respect for anyone other than himself.

They began talking about their new roommate and Erens long-term friend– Jean whom you had heard of before, but knew very little about.

You had seen him in a couple of instagram posts, and knew all the boys hangout together a lot over the summer. Though, when your girlfriends finally met him you were unable to make it because of your summer job. 

“He’s got some baggage but he’s nice once you get to know him.” Armin says, looking over to Eren who spat out some remark about his looming fuckboy reputation that’s been on his shoulders since highschool.

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s got some shit going on or somethin’.” Eren says, though at this point you’ve zoned out into a side conversation about gym routines with Mikasa ears only receiving the most interesting points

“an alcoholic. . .” “sophomore sensation. . .” “huge ego. . .” “always on speed dial. . .” “selfish. . .” it went on and on until Connie cracked a joke that completely switched the topic.

Sasha nor Historia had much to say other than little sayings on how they ‘saw it from the moment they met him.’ 

Your mind was buzzing with all sorts of different thoughts as it tried to take in the two different conversations happening around you. 

Plans had soon unfolded into walking to the closest bar and grill where you would be introduced to these new friends of the guys, as well as meeting Zeke there . . . who would be persuaded into buying you guys drinks after being begged.

Sasha was drooling the minute your group shuffled inside the loud restaurant. . . Smells of steak, cooked vegetables and appetizers of all sorts overwhelmed her senses as she bounced over to where Zeke was sat with Ymir, a Coors Light at his lips.

“Finally! I’m starved.” Zeke says, placing his bottle down.

“It’s good to see you too,” You greet him, taking your seat. “You gonna buy us a couple rounds or what?”

“I’m so sick and tired of being used like this.” He huffs.

“What? Because you’re the only one with a real ID?” Eren raises an eyebrow.

“Hey, Don’t expose us like that.” Connie points a finger at Eren, helping himself to a basket of steaming buffalo wings that Zeke had previously ordered for the tabe. “My business is fuckin’ booming, man.”

“Having a fake ID is cringe.” Armin teases.

“Didn’t you blackout like, a week ago?” Annie claims, and Armins cheeks flush red. 

“Okay, I did not blackout—” He begins matter-of-factly, furrowing his eyebrows.

Eren had thrown a little shin-dig with the guys in his parents backyard as a little “end of summer” bash before they all drove out to Santa Barbara.

You received a snap from Connie at about 10pm of Armin on his first drink, and at 3 in the morning. . . another of Armin on his last; messy hair and zero thought between his big blue eyes.

“Oh, you absolutely did!” Eren exclaims. “Somebody get the receipts!” 

“I’m already on it, man,” wiping through the thousands of photos in his camera roll to find the correct videos. He puts the phone in the middle of the table for everyone to see the video of Armin on top of a pool table, dancing to a song you couldn’t identify. 

“Yo, that’s not me!” Armin protests, unable to stifle his own laughter despite being absolutely ripped on.

Connie swipes to another, and another, and finishes on a final photo of Armin passed out in a camp chair, Brewski in hand and sunglasses on the ridge of his nose. 

The whole table is cackling now under the cover of the loud music of the sports bar, only progressing as other jokes are thrown into the mix.

During your fit of laughter, out of the corner of your eye you spot two men and a woman walk into the restaurant– Reiner and Annie along with another face. 

The other man has ashy blonde hair that reaches just below his nape and wears a careless. He’s goddamn handsome, and carries himself like he knows it too. 

“Jean, Reiner! Over here!” Eren calls over to them out of the shocking blue, raising an arm to signal the two over to your table. As the ashy-brown haired man gets closer to you, his eyes meet yours under the multicolored lights. 

Though, you look back to your laughing friends the moment you catch yourself looking for a little too long. “Hey, y/n! This is Jean.” Eren says. “She doesn’t bite. . . much.” 

“Shut up, Blockhead.” You hiss, shaking your head. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“‘S nice to finally meet you too..” He says with little to no emotion, aside from that he nodded his head to you.

His grip is firm, cold silver from his panther n’ roses ring making your hand cold.

“Watch out for the lesbians, though. Those ones bite.” Connie snickers, motioning to Ymir and Historia who were sat next to each other across the table from him.

“Shut the fuck up, Connie.” Ymir snaps, draping her arm around her girlfriends’ shoulder. 

“It’s true!” He says, defending himself. 

“Just ignore him, Ymir. He’s a homophobic stoner who failed English.” Mikasa smirks, earning an offended look from Connie, whose jaw drops.

“Hey! I’m not an author, and I love the gays!” He exclaims.

Jean raises his eyebrows across the table, a smug look on his face. “Well you surely don’t come anywhere near Shakespeare.”

“Stick to Dr. Seuss, Bud.” Sasha says, a lick of evil in her tone as she pats Connie on the shoulder sympathetically. Connie can only huff out a small ‘whatever,’ shaking his head with a grin on his face.

Eventually, your waitress came by to collect your orders, and of course your drinks which were all on Zeke. With a groan, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and gave it up to the woman.

Drinks came in what felt like a matter of minute as you all conversed amongst yourselves. Everyone chatted happily on various topics, and you couldn’t help but notice Jean’s Pearl Jam shirt.

“Eddie Vedder, huh?" You say, tapping your fingers along the side of your drink.

“The one and only.” Jean says with a small chuckle. “You like Pearl Jam?” 

“I grew up with Pearl Jam. My parents took me to a bunch of concerts growing up.” You tell him.

“Same here. ‘Was supposed to go to their last concert but got swept up in work and had to sell my tickets.” He says. 

“Aw, that sucks.” You sigh.

“I know. I was lookin’ forward to it.” Jean says cooly, resting his arm on the table and taking a sip of his drink.

You can’t help but watch as his adams apple lunges up and down his throat, a thick sheen of silence coming between your conversation though his whiskey colored eyes speak for themselves as they study every reachable inch of you.

You found yourself thinking about everything your friends had been saying about him, due to the fact that he didn’t seem as awful as they said based on your first impression.

Despite your longing to stare at him longer, you tear your eyes from him and look down the table, where Eren’s green eyes quickly tore from Jean to you. He had this possesive look on his face, as though if Jean were to get too close to you he would pounce on him and rip him apart limb by limb.

As the waitress came around to take your order, Eren shifted and placed his eyes on her so he could mindlessly flirt and once again force Zeke to purchase yet another round. He only gave in because Eren would pay for his dinner, so a win was a win. 

Your food came, and the volume of your table switched from 100% down to 50% while everyone ate, starving from the built-up hunger they had from moving around all day. 

“Eren are you gonna throw another party to kick off the semester?” Sasha asks, throwing a ketchup-drenched french fry into her mouth. 

Eren shrugs in response. “Probably. I don’t see why not.” 

“Well, as long as the frat dudes don’t get in the way of your plans.” Armin points out.

“Fuck them, man. ‘Specially Floch.” Connie says angril, taking a rather large bite of his cheeseburger. 

Last year, during Eren’s spring break kickoff him and Floch got into a fight that resulted in the cops coming to shut the entire function down. Since then, neither of them have had a real conversation – and the last time they spoke it turned into an intimidation game.

Eren was constantly getting himself into trouble, whether it was at home with his parents or here at school with people he didn’t exactly get along with. He was beyond lucky that he hasn’t been in serious trouble with the school board yet.

“Don’t act like that fight wasn’t your fault, Eren.” Mikasa says, brushing hair out of her face. 

“Oh, come on! He wasn’t invited, ‘nd was already starting shit!” He snaps back. 

Armin chimes in. “Don’t start, guys.”

“I was just telling it as it is.” Mikasa sighs and tears apart a section of her barbecue ribs.

This turned into a playful verbal tussle between Eren, Mikasa and Annie – who were ganging up on him about his moral values and what he viewed as a fair fight. 

People talked through mouthfuls of food, interrupted by the crinkle of checkered butcher’s paper and the slurp of someone sucking down a thick milkshake.

Once everyones baskets were cleared and the bill was paid, you all shambled out of the restaurant at around 9pm and found yourselves walking down the street towards your house after stopping to grab ice cream and wander the streets without any idea if you were going to end up home or not.

There was a small breeze, chilling your face under the night sky and sending a chill down your spine. After living in the heat your whole life, you were used to the cold of the night and craved it in the blistering sun. Though, when you were actually in it you realized how you weren't missing out on anything on the other side of the country.

You adjusted your zip-up jacket on your shoulders and stepped along, comforted by the sounds of your friends all talking together-- something you've grown to love more than anything.

Sasha was the first inside the house as you reached the front stoop, tossing her body onto the soft cushions of the couch where she curled up comfortably. “Don’t take up all the room, Sash.” Annie says, moving Sashas’ legs onto their own path so she can sit down besides her. 

“I go where the food takes me. .” She mumbles, face pressed into the throw pillows.

Annie just laughs a bit and pats her back, reaching towards the tv remote and watching as Mikasa moves to push the coffee table out of the way.

Historia and Ymir had ended up going back to Historia’s room where their music could be heard playing faintly, and everyone else scattered around your large-enough living room to play games on Mikasas’ switch for hours until you all crashed.

It was at about 11:45 when only you, Eren, Sasha, Jean and Connie were left playing Mario Kart, the others having left to go to their own bed or walk down the street to their own house. 

Jean was pretty talkative the entire evening, joining in on conversation and taking turns playing Mario Kart when everyone else was here and active– and at the current time when it’s just the five of you left in the living room taking turns playing Pikmin.

Verbatim from dinner earlier, you and Jean would occasionally catch each others eye from either side of the couch and share a silly look before turning your heads away from one another. 

“Someone should get us more drinks” Eren says, lifting his arms over his head to flexibly stretch and bother everyone by pushing the coffee table with his long legs. 

“Why can’t you get them, freedom boy?” Sasha snorts, desperately button mashing her way through a boss battle. 

“Uh, because it’s your house?” Eren replies sharply. 

“I don’t know if they like the idea of you passing out on their couch.” Jean raises his eyebrows, and you nod. “How many have you had? Like, 6?”

He snaps back in an instant. “Excuse me sir this will be my third drink of the night. I have high tolerance unlike all of you pussies, and will walk myself home without your assistance.”

“Whatever you say.” You shrug, passing your controller to Eren and rising off of the couch to walk back to the kitchen to see what was left. 

“Mind if I come with ya?” Jean speaks from behind you, and you look back with a small smile. “I wanna get something too.”

“Not at all.” You say, opening the fridge. 

Despite bringing two packs of alcohol, there were 5 left in the last pack of surfsides. You barely even remembered who had one, and found yourself shocked that they had gone so fast. 

Sighing, you grab two of the vodka iced-teas, handing one to Jean and putting the other on the nearest surface to eventually give to Eren. 

“Thanks.” He says kind of quietly, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can — his eyes flavouring the round of your ass as you turn around and bump the fridge door shut.

“So how did you meet Eren?” You ask, and he immediately corrects his stare. 

“Oh, I grew up with him. We went to highschool together, Connie too. I was at Santa Barbara community college but transferred.” Jean tells you. “I’m actually gonna play bass for his band.” 

It probably seemed like you were interrogating him at this point, but you couldn’t help your wanting to pick his brain. “Sick. You play bass?” 

“Mhm. I started playing guitar when I was like 10, bass when i was 15.” He says, taking a quick swig of his drink without moving his eyes off of you. “Do you play?” 

“I’ve been playing since i was 13.” You tell him.

“That’s really cool.” He nods, and so do you. 

Jean was quick to open up his phone and begin to boredly text somebody, walking back to his seat on the couch without another care in the world– as if you hadn’t even been there in the first place. 

Silence consumes the kitchen, nothing to be heard except for the running of the air conditioner and playful bickering behind you.

Turning around, you grab Eren’s drink and take it to him in the living room, sitting inbetween him and Jean on the couch with Sasha at your feet and Connie next to her– constantly pushing her controller so she would mess up. 

Sasha was beginning to nod off, head falling forward then snapping back up as she exhaustedly pressed buttons and tried her best to keep up her good work at one of the many games you had played in one night.

She could push herself as long as she really wanted to, and being her friend was one of the wildest rides you’ve ever been on. 

Last year your group of friends went on a ski trip over christmas break and she dragged you out to go sledding at 5 am, and on your days down on the beach she would always be the first in the waves and take you on walks to go look for tidepools. 

She brought out the best in everybody without even trying, and that’s what you loved about her. 

-

You hadn’t even realised you fell asleep for about 30 minutes when she lightly shook you awake, whispering your name and interrupting your dreamless rest.

Connie yawns, rubbing his tired eyes and using Sasha to get himself to his feet. “I need a fuckin’ joint, bro.” 

“Me too. We should get goin’.” Eren says, picking himself up off your couch and grabbing his hoodie from where it was tossed onto your floor.

Sighing, you lift your body up and let your eyes adjust to the light of the tv screen in the dark and notice the lack of a certain body. “Did Jean leave already?” 

“He got a booty call and dipped.” Connie tells you, sliding his vans on. 

“Hm. I see.” You hum.

“I wouldn’t waste your time with him.” 

You look up from picking pillows off of the floor and at Eren who now leaned against the doorframe with hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I saw you talking to him earlier, that’s it.” He shrugs.

A hearty laugh leaves the cushion of your lips. “Do you think I have a little crush on him or something?” 

“No.” He says, plain and simple and you furrow your eyebrows. “I just don’t want him trying to get in your pants.” His response makes you roll your eyes, walking into the kitchen and putting your can of High Noon in the back of the fridge with your name on it.

“Is that what you think of me?” You ask him, mostly teasing.

“Never in a million years.” His eyes go soft as he steps closer to you. "You’re cool, and I don’t want him hurting you.” 

Pushing hair behind your ear, you cross your arms under your chest and watch as he throws out his empty can. “Thanks, but I can handle myself, Blockhead. Besides, I don’t think Jean wants anything to do with me. He’s a fuckboy and I’m not into that.” 

“I saw him lookin’ you up and down all goddamn night. I think he wants somethin’ to do with you.” Eren huffs out a breath of air.

“But when Reiner does it, or you do it that’s so different?” You challenge him.

“Dude, Reiner’s gay.” Connie chimes in, the potent smell of OG Kush rushing your nostrils in an instant How had he lit up so goddamn fast? “Fuck are you guys’ talkin about.” 

“Just trust me.” You tilt your head. “An’ don’t let Connie get hit by a car, or greenout on your way home.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you.” Eren says, motioning for Connie that it was time to hit the road. “You’ll be at Zekes place Wednesday night?” 

“I’m always there. You can count on it.” You tell him

Eren grins as you wave him ‘goodbye’ with your fingers, pushing Connie back into the correct path down the road while keeping his eyes on you. “Atta girl.” 

[makemeadoll]

Here's my pinned thingy 💖

Well, there's not much to tell about me. I'm just a person who wants to experience being as far away from normality as possible ✨

Just to clarify:

⚪️ My goal is not bimbofication as usually portrayed in here. I like my brain, it works just fine and it's nice to be smart enough to make good enough choices while living in real life 🌸

Don't try making me stupid for the sake of it!!

⚪️ I simply want to be a doll! I want my mind to turn off when it's not needed and just see, feel and do what whoever is playing with me wants me to 🤭

I want to experience body transformations! Maybe one day my body is the perfect shape, perfect skin, perfect boobies and my hair is long and wavy and silky and gorgeous in any vibrant color possible, and another day I'm from another race or species or world hehe.

I want to forget I'm human and just feel pleasure and mindless obedience, because that's what I'm made for!

So, please:

• No hateful degrading stuff

• No shaming

• No threats

• No pushy messages

• No unsolicited pics

• No asking for pictures, videos or audios from me

• No IQ reduction or dumbification

✨Yes hypno files

✨Yes mantras & instructions

✨Yes inductions and hypnotic language

✨Yes spirals and cute mesmerizing visuals of any kind

✨Yes asks attempting to control me and make me a doll and experience new things

✨Yes erotic hypno stories

Sexy stuff is welcome and encouraged, just follow those guidelines and we'll get along nicely

Find all the files found by me or shared to me here: #hypno files

You can share anything you like as long as it sticks to my limits and preferences (Tiffa is a doll! Not a slave or a bimbo!) and I promise to listen to it and add it to the list with a little review 🥰

Be imaginative and nice, and I promise I'll do my best to be the perfect doll for you 💖

Oh! And if you play with me, or share files with me and you want me to mention you, just tell me!!! I don't do it often to respect your privacy hehe 😘

(I'll probably modify this in the future as I get better with words and also more experience with Tumblr)