#fool me eight more times shame on me...

[fryandleelasbigfling]

leela existential angst / depression episode LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

[padawansuggest]

13 yo Obi-Wan: You guys are keeping me captive 🥺

Jaster: Ob’ika, we are bringing you back to the temple to reunite with your people.

Obi-Wan: 🥺 then why am I in a cage?

Jaster: *looks pointedly at Jango covered in bite marks, bandages and a torn kute*

Jango: Jas’Buir, he’s really cute, the bites didn’t even hurt 🥺

Obi-Wan: Yeah, I’m just making friends 🥺

Jaster: *soul deep sigh* I am not letting you out of the cell so you can maul my ad again.

Jango: Buuuir, he’s just an ad’ika, lookit his ik’aad fangs, he won’t actually hurt me!

Jaster: You we’re begging me to get his fangs out of your wrist five minutes ago.

Jango: He’s just teething!!

Jaster: Jan’ika, I know you want to keep him, but he’s not even house broken yet.

Jango: Neither was I when you adopted me!! He’s chosen me! Lemme keep him!

Obi-Wan: 🥺 I will be a good boy if you stick your fingers in my enclosure 🥺

Jaster: *physically holding Jango back* No. We will revisit this when the baar’ur has given him a Xanax omfg- *dragging Jango out of the ship hold*

[astonmartinii]

if you need me, let me know, gonna be around [mamma mia part seven] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso & fernando alonso

flo has finally given y/n the experience of motherhood, but she’ll never forget about her overgrown kids

MAMMA MIA MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 1,934,033 others

tagged: jensonbutton

yourusername: venturing out from christmas hibernation and adding to the already overflowing collection of teddies. oh, and getting pics like that of jens while he's out "having a job"

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user1: i am a simple woman, i see dilf jenson, i lose all sense of reality

user2: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

jensonbutton: oh wow who is that handsome specimen on the last slide?

sebastianvettel: the man who carelessly abandoned his family !!!

fernandoalo_oficial: a man who couldn't handle that i was the best driver in the family

jensonbutton: what ???

sebastianvettel: i'm sorry... is that the ghost of the man we once knew

jensonbutton: i'm not dead

fernandoalo_oficial: to me you are

yourusername: okay guys ... the bit is up !! we do miss you jense but we're happy you're happy :)

sebastianvettel: sure.... well at least you won't try and worm your way into the crochet club

fernandoalo_oficial: as long as you still come to some of my races :)

user3: glad to see parenthood has not changed these fools

charles_leclerc: why do my selfies never make the instagram :(

yourusername: charlie, if i posted every time you sent me a picture of you crying that's all my instagram would be

charles_leclerc: but ........ i thought i was your favourite

yourusername: you know i don't have a favourite

charles_leclerc: sure if that's what you want to tell yourself

maxverstappen1: we all know you say that to not hurt charlie's feelings because i'm your favourite

fernandoalo_oficial: you people are so dramatic

maxverstappen1: says you old man, i can scroll up you know

sebastianvettel: well you're all second to flo

charles_leclerc: she's disqualified from this competition, she's your actual child you have to say she's your favourite

jensonbutton: it's more who annoys us the least

user4: 2024 and nothing has changed here

sebastianvettel

liked by yourusername, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,045,388 others

sebastianvettel: love being miles away, missing my baby and getting a running commentary of how my "grid kids" are terrorising y/n

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user7: seb is on a mission to pick up every dad hobby ever. first beekeeping and now sailing

user8: don't forget the gardening and the crochet

user9: he's collecting the infinity stones of dilfism

yourusername: a full eight hours of sleep looks so good on you

sebastianvettel: so i don't look good all the time 🤨

yourusername: of course you do handsome. me and flo miss you :((

sebastianvettel: don't say that i miss you all so much

fernandoalo_oficial: maybe that's your sign to come home?

jensonbutton: yeah i think you should listen to the universe seb, you like all that crystal and salt of the earth stuff

yourusername: sebbbbbbbbb :(((((

sebastianvettel: STOP

user10: they are so precious to me

yourusername: no but seriously if i have to teach another grid kid how to iron i might lose my mind

charles_leclerc: ummmmm stop blasting me on main?

yourusername: learn to iron then

sebastianvettel: you still don't know how to iron? i thought i taught you in 2019?

charles_leclerc: clearly not well enough !! and y/n please name and shame the others so i'm not alone

yourusername: @landonorris @logansargeant sorry

landonorris: WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU Y/N? I CALLED YOU IN CONFIDENCE

logansargeant: i don't have any excuse, thank you for the lesson y/n :)

jensonbutton: at least one of our kids is well mannered

charles_leclerc: i am well mannered, sorry i love my grid mum and her kid. i do semi-know how to iron but needed an excuse to see flo :(

user11: free my girl from these incompetent men

mickschumacher

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoao_oficial and 921,743 others

tagged: yourusername

mickschumacher: thanks nurse y/n and nurse flo for helping me - sorry about your mug

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user12: the plaster :((((((((

jensonbutton: IT WAS YOU WHO BROKE MY I <3 NASCAR DILFS MUG

mickschumacher: sorry !

jensonbutton: nuh uh mister @sebastianvettel sort your kid out

sebastianvettel: mick said he was sorry jenson, leave him be

jensonbutton: but when lando put the rubbish in the wrong recycling he had to go litter picking with you I WANT A NEW MUG

yourusername: you guys know they aren't actually your kids, you can't put them in time out

yourusername: you can barely put your own child in time out

fernandoalo_oficial: she's too cute i don't want to make her cry

landonorris: but it's fine to make me cry?

fernandoalo_oficial: yes. in fact, it's quite fun

landonorris: Y/N!!!!

yourusername: okay, babies let's all put the phones down for this evening.

user13: nooooo y/n please i could watch these idiots argue all day

yourusername: the main thing is that your finger is all okay and that you got a cute plaster out of it

mickschumacher: i very much love my lil cat finger

yourusername: so does flo, i think you might be stuck doing puppet shows for the forseeable future

mickschumacher: anything for miss flo

user14: mamma mia family dynamics you are everything to me

fernandoalo_oficial: why did mick get a kitty plaster and i got told to do it myself :(

yourusername: because you're a grown man and you injured yourself by tripping with darts in your hands

fernandoalo_oficial: mick is a grown man - HE CAN VOTE just because he needs seb's help with the paperwork does not change that

mickschumacher: you said yourself they are confusing !!

sebastianvettel: ignore him mick

fernandoalo_oficial: booooooooo

user15: i know these men provide the best entertainment for flo even if she doesn't understand a word they're saying

yourusername: she finds them very entertaining which then starts a competition to who can make her laugh the most

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,447,734

tagged: alexalbon, lilymunhe

yourusername: sometimes even my most competent grid kid needs some help, happy anniversary alex and lily x

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user16: UGH this is so cute

alexalbon: grid mum or emotional support retail assistant?

lilymunhe: so how much of the heartfelt gift was really you

alexalbon: 90% !!! i swear

yourusername: it was all alex he just needed the support (idk he said that jewellery shops are stressful)

alexalbon: they are !! i don't know how big fingers are :(

lilymunhe: thank you y/n wouldn't want the 27 year old man to get lost at the mall

yourusername: no worries, i somehow gained at least 15 extra children along with flo, i just go with it. he's less hassle than charles and max

charles_leclerc: rude.

maxverstappen1: gasp!

user17: i love how much y/n has really embraced the grid mum life

user18: i don't think she had much choice 😭

user19: the way she's like "oh i'll help you all with anything you need" and takes flo on all of these side missions and the guys just leave them to die 😭

user20: they're such dad's who don't want the cat but end up attached but don't want to show it

jensonbutton: wait which one of us claim alex? is it me? why was i not invited?

alexalbon: ur my williams dad :) and i think this trip needed a woman's touch (and flo's touch obvs)

jensonbutton: rude i give great gifts

fernandoalo_oficial: considering he's one of the least feral and has lily, i want to claim alex

sebastianvettel: i have too many kids you guys can have alex

alexalbon: sebastian! did our gardening afternoons mean nothing ?

lilymunhe: we'll take it nando

sebastianvettel: did you or did you not just make it a competition with george to see who could plant potatoes the fastest and then make a mess of my vegetable garden

georgerussell63: GUILTY

yourusername: soz but you all have to claim all of them, my rules now

user21: y/n and flo going to rule that house with an iron fist

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, jensonbutton and 1,309,244 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

fernandoalo_oficial: glad to be back on the podium, but even more proud to call you my grid kid. we all love you, especially flo :)

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user24: THEY HAVE MATCHING MIFFY PLUSHIES

user25: miffy is dutch so that might be why max got them matching ones :)

yourusername: and flo is surgically attached to her miffy (she has named her maxi, even if she can barely say it)

maxverstappen1: you are one of my heroes and it was a pleasure to share the podium with you. there's no one else in the world i'd love to dedicate my podium to than lil mia x

fernandoalo_oficial: you've got me crying again

maxverstappen1: get it all out old man

fernandoalo_oficial: already back to the old man 🤨 i guess i'll take the nice messages while i can

user26: nando getting all mushy is so cute i can't believe this is where we are

charles_leclerc: let it be known that if i had a car fast enough i would also dedicate a win to flo, but for now she'll have to settle for a song

fernandoalo_oficial: is silvia going to kill you? because seb and y/n might kill me if they get your ass over this

charles_leclerc: but it's true, no?

fernandoalo_oficial: you will not trick me into slandering my old team charlie

maxverstappen1: LOL YOU SNOOZE YOU LOSE

charles_leclerc: YOU KNEW THAT WAS MY IDEA THIEF

sebastianvettel: charles why am i getting a call from silvia?

maxverstappen1: LOL

charles_leclerc: brb just going to lourdes

jensonbutton: lol way to get outshined by your kid

fernandoalo_oficial: at least i was in the position to be outshined by my kid

jensonbutton: ERGH you know you can't bring that up

fernandoalo_oficial: you said that you couldn't wait to get away from us

jensonbutton: oop.

yourusername: my wonderful boys!

maxverstappen1: :D

fernandoalo_oficial: i love you both :)

maxverstappen1: awww thanks nando

fernandoalo_oficial: i meant y/n and flo but sure love you too buddy

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,610,449 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: maxy, this means more than you could know, flo very much enjoyed watching 'blu' go fast :)

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user27: is this family going to make me cry? maybe.

user28: side note, how many animal onesies does flo have they're so cute

user29: she's like a lil teddy bear

maxverstappen1: glad to have officially won the title of flo's favourite brother

charles_leclerc: NOT SO FAST MISTER

maxverstappen1: maybe if you were faster you would've dedicated a win to flo :P

charles_leclerc: LOW BLOW

danielricciardo: don't even get me started on the daniel ricciardo erasure

maxverstappen1: shush daniel let the problem children talk

charles_leclerc: yeah daniel, problem children only

sebastianvettel: should we intervene?

yourusername: no, i'm intrigued as to where this is going to go

jensonbutton: i for one love watching these dummies fight

fernandoalo_oficial: let me get my popcorn

maxverstappen1: are we just entertainment to you?

jensonbutton: yes!

charles_leclerc: the minute flo can talk ASK HER WHO IS HER FAVOURITE

sebastianvettel: sure?

user30: they can never ask that question, one of them might never recover

maxverstappen1: for real though, i love you guys and i love flo. i'll send nando home with the trophy as well :)

yourusername: awwww thank you maxy :) @sebastianvettel @fernandoalo_oficial @jensonbutton new shelf needed please

jensonbutton: i'll leave this one to "the woodwork king"

sebastianvettel: am i the only one who does anything in this house?

fernandoalo_oficial: you can't be called the woodwork king and not do the work

yourusername: you don't even let them help seb

sebastianvettel: UGH.

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 912,774 others

tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo

jensonbutton: day 4,000+ of losing our actual girlfriend to our overgrown kids

view all comments

user31: PICTURE OF DANNY WITH FLO ALERT ALERT

yourusername: not my fault you guys picked up so many stray cats while in the sport

jensonbutton: i only claim lando and alex, the rest are the others' faults

yourusername: i know you love it really

jensonbutton: not when the little tornadoes hit our house, eat all of our food and steal my baby

danielricciardo: whoops

jensonbutton: and terrorise my pets DANIEL

danielricciardo: they terrorise each other jenson, maybe they aren't as well trained as you thought

yourusername: oh god...

jensonbutton: HOW DARE YOU !!!! BECKETT, SALMON AND CREAM CHEESE ARE VERY WELL TRAINED AND WELL BEHAVED

user32: old men are going crazy we love to see it

sebastianvettel: are we a bed and breakfast?

yourusername: i fear so. you need to run back from whatever ocean you are in we are low on staff now jenson is back racing. flo might be cute but she's a liability in the kitchen

fernandoalo_oficial: maybe we should just kick them out

yourusername: noooo :( not my babies

fernandoalo_oficial: can we at least charge them?

maxverstappen1: you people are the most stingy millionaires i have ever met

charles_leclerc: i pay you in piano sorry

yourusername: don't listen to them boys, flo and i love having you over

user33: so like is there any way we could open the mamma mia bed and breakfast to the public

fernandoalo_oficial: why do the grid kids see our family more than us?

yourusername: come home more often then :(

fernandoalo_oficial: i'm working on it the plane is delayed :(

jensonbutton: personally i would just run home but that's just me

sebastianvettel: i would simply just walk on water

fernandoalo_oficial: shut up. see you later

yourusername: yay !!!!

fin.

note: writer's block has really been beating my ass so there's always mamma mia to get it flowing again. i'm still working on requests, hopefully they'll come along a little faster now! also - i started an instagram for my small business i am opening it's @badlydrawnf1cats, feel free to follow x

edit: mamma mia will return

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih @duck-duck-goose-18 @dark-night-sky-99 @ironcowboycopnickel @sizzlingghostoperatorbagel @2bormaybenot @42ndbrokencompass @whotfisvale @lichterfee @sticksdoesart @glitterf1 @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @lighttsoutlewis @tagteamedbitch @glow-ish @sadg3 @kagatinkita @litoriaxu

[eternallyei]

What a long ride..

smut, lil angst, eren yeager x f!reader ~ +5,5k words

Casually sipping on his vape, Eren sits on the stairs, impatiently waiting for the bell to ring the end of his lovely prisoner’s class.

He takes a sip of smoke in and then blows it out, it feeds his brain just good enough to be honest. And even if smoking was prohibited inside the building, who is he to give a fuck about rules anyway.

He looks around, in case anyone catches him smoking inside the building, or report that he isn’t in class again. Not that he cares but he just wants to leave and not being held in the headmaster’s office for the uncountable hours of class he skips.

Let’s be honest and say Eren isn’t the best student in this university, he might even win if a 'worst student' contest occurred. He’s smart though, but not for class. Not at all, or he just doesn't even try.

He sighs, time seems so long when you want it to be fast, and he loses patience. He lasted twenty eight poor minutes before he feels the urge to take you out of class.

He slips his vape back in his vest pocket and goes to your class. Going up the stairs two by two, until aisle C, where he jogs to your class.

Windows give a sight enough reachable from his height to check whether you really care about the lesson or not. An airy laugh escapes him when he catches sight of you.

"exactly what i thought, you do not give a single fuck about whatever my man mr. Matsuoka is tryna explain"

You’re there, half listening half fighting against your eyes to not close. Leaning your head on your palm, and playing with your pen in your other hand.

Finally you look at the aisle windows and here is his head trying to sneak into the annoying hour you are going through. He blinks at you, shooting you a small malicious smile.

You frown nodding him to go away, when all of a sudden he disappears. You take a breath of relief before the class becomes silent.

knock knock

"come in!"

You hide behind your hands when Eren’s figure appears in the doorframe. Gosh Eren, don’t embarrass me, please..

"hello, um.. i’d like to borrow one of your students if you’d allow me"

The teacher raises an eyebrow in confusion. What the hell would be more important than attending his class after all ?

A sucker for the headmaster, Eren bets.

"yeah, i was told to bring her to big daddy’s office"

You pinch the bridge of your nose at his words while the whole class giggles. If only you had the ability to disappear, it would help right now.

Seriously Eren ? Big daddy’s office ??

He’s so stupid sometimes you wonder how he didn’t fail his years until now. The whole university have a crush on him even though he’s an idiot asshole and everyone giggles when he says his intrusive thoughts out loud. Having no shame to spit words like this in front of everyone is probably your biggest strength Eren i swear to god, you think.

"Yeager, you better stop fooling around before I send you to the headmaster myself !"

Eren holds back a laughter as he realizes the teacher understood who he was referring to, then he quickly continues.

"yeah yeah, anyway, can I ?"

"if he asked you to, go ahead."

In a split second, he locks eyes with you. Everyone turns around to look at you, not so surprised he came for you. The whole college knows Eren follows you around like a dog, whether he just walks next to you looking like a murderer or talks non stop while teasing you.

You look at him, clearly unamused by the situation he puts you in when he nods and gestures you to come.

"take your stuff.. just in case", he says, shooting a fake smile at the teacher.

You pack your stuff and greet the professor, uttering a small apology before leaving. Eren closes the door behind you and you walk down the corridor, thinking about what stupid plan he found again.

"don’t thank me"

"did not even think about it"

Getting down the stairs, you stop mid-way, making him look back up at you.

"we’re not heading to the headmaster’s office, are we ? where are you leading me again Eren ?"

"no, big daddy doesn’t really want to see your ugly face, sorry"

"Eren, fuck, stop being so dumb for gods sake"

"what ! what did i do again ?"

"big daddy ? seriously ?"

"you don’t like it ?"

"i don’t."

"'kay, whatever babe. can we go now ?"

"don't call me-"

"let’s go already, just trust me"

"that’s exactly the reason why i asked, you idiot”

“ugh.. fuck it, c’mhere"

He walks up the stairs, takes the handle of your backpack and throws it over his shoulder. He sighs.

"the fuck you think you’re doing, 'ren ?"

"learning you how to behave like a good girl"

You roll your eyes as he winks at you, clearly proud that he got to act stupid again, and tease you more. He bents down waist level, grabbing your legs to throw you over his shoulder too.

You tried to fight at least but you both know who’s stronger here.

As you arrived to the car, Eren sets you back to the floor, opens the passenger’s door and waves in circles like the clowns do i guess for you to get seated in the car.

You just stare at him, unsure however it’s one of the days he’s eager to gain that trust of yours or either it’s those days he ends up with some shitty tricks or plans with you.

He smiles at how undetermined you are to give him your trust and do as he pleases.

"c'mon, babe.. we’re not gonna wait here all day. get inside the car"

You give him your meanest side eye look and get seated in the car in silence while he holds eye contact.

"hhh.. thank you", he nods.

He slams the door back and gets seated in the driver seat. Puts his key in the car before everything lights up and the engine roars.

Eren fastens his seatbelt and looks at you

"seatbelt, miss"

And you do.

After some time, when you’ve reached the highway, your mind just wanders.

He really just made you skip classes to take you out ? Where even ? Couldn’t he just wait for your day to end ? It’s not your business if HE doesn’t want to go to school and have a diploma and.. whatever.

You roll your eyes again, Eren has just been conducting you to escape whatever responsible decisions you take.

It makes you think about back then where it all began, raised by not-so-legal parents, your dad barely home but enough to remind you how in danger you were from his enemies. When as much warning as he gave you, you still ended up being taken away from your sweet home.

Surrounded by a bunch of unhealthy individuals but only one stood out from the crowd, and it was Eren. He looked good and healthier for once, it felt reassuring, and yet again here he was the only one taking real care of you. Or even just giving a slight shit about you.

He spent time with you, learning how you worked around people, who you could bear with and who you couldn’t.

You were so thankful at first, because he acted so nice and irreproachable. His nice demeanor felt like you could at least feel some relief in having him as a friend or.. whatever.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long enough for him to show how irresponsible and childish he could be. Almost stalking you everyday at school, the only place you could go to outside the mansion. He went on asking you out here and there, while you try to decline but he never failed to make you say yes.

Well, to be very honest, let’s not say you’ve grown to have a crush on this dude because he would like it a bit too much but.. let’s still stay honest and say you actually do. You probably like his annoying ass at least a little. Barely a lot, as a secret.

Then again, here you are, going all in for one of his plan again, who knows what he’ll come up with this time and how awfully awkward it will be.

You turn your head to look at him, seeing he’s so focused on the road in front of him.

He’s just so fine, c’mon.

His defined hands that you admire so often, left hand firmly gripping the wheel while his right one stays on the gearbox. Notice how he’s still wearing all his jewelries, including the bracelet you offered him.

His toned chest peacefully rising up and down as if life wasn’t the biggest of his concerns at all, god.. he got you daydreaming in your seat right next to him. they must be heavy over his heart..

His hair tied up in a messy bun letting some strands escape and fall on his neck, as well as letting out some streaks of hair fall in front of his face. Do they never get in his eyes ?

His tongue licking wet his pinkish lips from time to time, and his eyes wandering on the road, aware of every details around him.

Those beautiful emerald eyes that keep fidgeting between cars and the road, before they snap at you.

You snap your head back to the window, acting like nothing happened as the blush invades your cheeks.

"i was wondering how long you’d check me out before i’d have to bring you out of your cunt.

it was actually pretty much of a long stare, babe.. i might think you like me more than you show it”

He’s so annoying, you even start to regret staring at him. Sometimes you just wish he’d choke on air.

"shut up, i was just looking around. the silence sounded way too unusual”

He laughed, way too entertained by your annoyance.

“where are we going, it’s been almost an hour you’ve been driving"

“chill, it’s been fifteen minutes, i’m just searching for a good place to stop"

"so you’re gonna abandon me in the middle of nowhere ?"

"Yes, smarty. order of the big master”

Eren keeps messing with you. You know damn well no one in that goddamn crew would dare take the risk to lose a so precious ressource. That gentle little girl is worth too much to lose.

Checking several times whether you’re looking or not, he puts a hand on your thigh, making you jolt in surprise. You try to push his hand away but his grip is just so tight and strong, it’s of no use. And whenever you ‘politely’ ask him to take his hand off your thigh, he gives no shit and only gets further and closer to your heat.

So at the end you just give up.

After a little moment of fighting with Eren in your head, he drives off to a resting point of the highway.

“what are you doing ? where are we ?”

“have you already fucked on the back seats of a car ?”

I’m sorry ?? your thoughts freeze for a split second, heart dropping from the stairs of a scale all the way to your stomach. It’s clear he’s not joking for once, he’s good at hinting but a very bad liar. You don’t know whether you wish you heard him right or whether you wish you never heard him at all but you also debate whether it’s his personal needs or the crew heads one.

The one time he had to not be flirting or teasing you, spending his time telling you dirty shits just to get you flustered… it had to be the time he finally mentions sex with you.

While he calmly parks the car, you try to clear things in your mind, trying to hide the obvious heat going all the way to your cheeks again.

I might be hearing hallucinations. Your thoughts just mix together, a part of you doesn’t want to have this conversation with him, but then again.. look at him, and look at you melting in your seat at some damn words.

Your poor stomach tightens as he takes a stop between the parking stripes.

Eren pulls on the handbrake and stays silent for a few seconds as you almost hold your breath next to him, the knock in your stomach feels so tight. Gosh, breathe, it’s.. good thing.

He looks around, some cars are parked farther down the lines, at least not next to his. And then he watches you, and how you stare at your feet, at whatever inexistant detail suddenly appeared to be interesting.

He giggles, as if the situation was hilarious.

"look who became so silent! you’re always opening your fucking mouth, hissing back at me when i say shit and now that i bring sex into light.. you’re quiet like never.

‘ssup kitten, cat caught your tongue ? mmh ?"

He tugs your hair behind your ear to have a better view of your face, and you try to pull back. He sits back in his seat, and clears his throat.

“sit your pretty ass in the back.”

“but..”

“that wasn’t a question, doll, i said sit your pretty ass in the back of this car.”

“Eren not here, please!”

“come on, nobody’s gonna see us”

A big sigh escapes your lips, why here ? You try to pull on the handle but to no avail, doors long closed by the moment you both fastened your seatbelt.

“let me step out”

“no, i’m not allowed to do that, you know that”

"then let me get to the backseats"

"sure, as you wish", he nods, before he unlocks the door for you.

You know this is like a beast playing with his feast before a meal, he’s so confident around you. Nearly stepping out, you thought maybe it was time to end your fugitive life after all. You mentally facepalm at how naive you sound, he knows every next step of yours.

You stand next to the car, pretending to be an obedient hostage for once in your career but your eyes wander around, trying to find a car who's about to leave where you can hop in.

Unfortunately, he knows you and steps out too, calling you out of your thoughts.

"hey, i know what you’re thinking about, don’t test me."

You stare at him, snapping your head back at some people farther back, walking towards their car. Who does he think you are to not try it out, huh ? Who’s the bad little bunny now, mmh ?

"hey, if you run away, i’ll fuck you right on the door in front of you for anyone who parks next to us to see. am i clear ?"

Sounds dissuasive enough, even if the car was hidden enough by wonderful mother nature.. but why not try though, it might work to run away. At least you won’t have to face those money and killing hungry men every morning again. It seems like a good deal, right ?

Heels spinning around before you start walking faster and faster, all to the strangers car, while Eren sighs yet again, not even bothering to run at this point. He knows you won't get a single chance with strangers on this road. Do you even know how many couples are fighting on runways ? How many pretty young women like you are taken away to satisfy needs ?

And here you are stumbling over your words at how to explain or tell them why you need them to take you anywhere safer than the woods. By the time you finally get to the point he already reaches you, putting his best actor mask on, proving you how good of a liar he can turn out to be.

"hello man, i’m sorry! she’s kinda lost, you know!

he stares into your lost eyes,

love, it's okay, c'mhere, i’m sorry for what I said, let’s go back home, ok ?

Eren takes a firm hold of your hand,

sorry for the inconvenience, you know how it is! have a nice road man!"

You couldn’t believe how ridiculously easy it was to get rid of these people like nothing happened, they probably couldn’t even speak your language.

"you know how big of troubles you could’ve just put me into ?

gonna hav’ta stick to my words..

you think i’m scared like you are.."

And just as he said, he pulled you by your wrist your chest hitting the right door of the car, smirking at your attempt to pull back and your voice echoing just to beg him to not do that. Not here, like that for everyone to see, please.

He squeezed his chest against you, making a sort of metal sound when your body hits the vehicle.

He makes you spread your legs with his knees and grabs your pantie under the poor skirt you were so happy to wear today. He takes it off, stuffing it in his pocket.

"if you continue breathing so heavy and fast, you might also fuck yourself on my cock, once i’m in, kitten"

Shut up. He loses no time before his fingers slide down your clit, making the heat come up to your cheeks and ears when you realise how wet you were already.

"look who’s dripping, i didn’t even touch you yet. is that how 'desperate' you are for it, mmh ?"

"fuck you"

He laughed, "no babe, fuck you"

He rubs circles over your clit, his boner pressed against your ass. You let out an airy moan at how sweet his fingers feel around your bundle of nerve.

He plays with you, while you debate in your head whether he plays better with your clit than you’ve done alone in your room, wishing it was him all this time.

He draws circles, slides up and down, writing his name over your clit, fast or slow, he decides. He was just enjoying that touch as much as you did personally.

His hands, that you spent hours watching, are between your thighs playing like you wish was his tongue. Eren rubs himself on your ass, trying to get some friction from the mere contact of your body, he's so hard, his cock twitches in his boxer already. Just thinking about being inside you makes him want to cum so bad.

He's as desperate as you, let’s be honest. He wants himself inside you as much as you're dying to feel his cock deep in your core.

Hearing metallic sounds from what seems like his belt, you close your eyes tight, trying to imagine anything, anywhere else you could be where no one would see you both right now. Within a second after his fingers left your clit, he slips in. Like he’s been waiting for this for ages.

His dick brushes every little part of your cunt, his hands grabbing your waist so hard it starts to burn. The tip of his cock stretches the way in enough for him to fit all in at once.

And surprisingly, it feels so good your eyes roll back and you're already moaning. Even with all the strength you could think of having, it's just so hard to hold back the lewd screams.

Your wetness helps his way in and he slides in and out with so less effort, he smacks his hips on yours, holding your waist tighter than ever to feel all of you.

Eren can’t even think straight, he’s pounding as fast as he can, as hard as he can, the car moves back and forth with his movements, and here you are, moaning and whining under his body for what seems like the best fuck you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t give any of a slight fuck about anything around him, he’s just so focused on the way he slides in and out of your pussy so easily. Sighing in pleasure, he keeps that stupid smirk on his face the whole time, he’s trying so hard to not be loud, muffled and breathy moans come out from his mouth, and the lewd sounds his cock makes, adds to this growing smirk.

Every thrust feels like you’re about to cum, you didn’t even realise you were squeezing him before he giggles in your ear. Your legs trembling from the pleasure and force he puts in his hips, you whine.

"'ren.. mh.. fuck, don’t- stop.."

"don’t worry, i won’t baby, i won’t until you squeeze the shit out of my cock"

Breath hitching and moan escaping in rhythm with every thrust, you’re trying to hold those stupid moans in but they just get out with your breath at how much his cock fills you up so well.

He pounds repeatedly against your hips, fucking your hole like he's been waiting for it for years, he’s so fucking hypnotised by the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his dick.

He fucks you fast, it almost hurts how deep he is inside you. It doesn’t last long before you’re moaning to let him know you’re at the end of it.

"i-i’m.. gon- mh.. cum 'ren"

He lets out a chuckle, letting you know how desperate and cock drunk you sound. It’s not even been a few minutes and you’re already close to cum. Emptiness hits, and the pounding stops.

Eren suddenly stops, his cock into your cunt not playing with your guts, before your walls would start spasming around him. You were just at the edge of your orgasm but he pulls out as fast as he got in.

"get in the car", he says, walking to the back of the car, hand waving for you to do the same.

It takes you a few seconds to get back on your feet and follow him. So easily, just like this, brain fucked..

Getting in the back, the head rest all the way down, his head thrown back, hair undone falling over his shoulder, he’s there waiting for you. Waiting for you to come and sit on him like a good girl.

At this point you don’t even care if he’s gonna make fun of how desperate you were for his dick, your core feels just so empty.

You get on top of him, hugging him as tight as you can and sit.

"hey hey hey, who said you could sit", he slaps.

The slap makes you flinch, you sit up, holding your ass up while he gets ready. He throws his shirt over his head, and slides down a little on the seat, grabbing your waist.

You'd be lying if you said something else was on your mind at this moment, other than him.

He has you hypnotised and completely drunk on him, his eyes feel heavy as hell on you, and your hands already go for his chest while you're still free for touch.

He grabs your wrists, bringing them to hold his dick. He sighs at the feeling of your soft hands around him, and smiles as he throws his head back again. His gaze glued to yours, keeping an eye on your pretty face. Sliding your hands up and down his wet cock, while you wish it was you going up and down on him again, Eren breathes heavily, holding that unbearable eye contact.

The urge to kiss him is also unbearable, his red lips forming that stupid looking smirk make it so hard to resist from devouring his mouth, but you're too proud to show him how weak you become when it comes to him.

Feeling every vein around his cock tracing your hands under your movements, he curses. Grabbing tightly your thighs as they become red from the violence he was doing to them. Sliding down his length where it stops at his balls and going back up, rubbing circles around the tip already red and ready to paint you. You lean in, placing kisses under his collarbone, although you know it's weak of you but it's so hard to not give in and not taste his skin. He looks so fucking hot like this.

Your eyes following down, watching how his cock never disappears even if you use both hands, debating whether your hands are too small or whether he’s really that big. How did it even fit inside you to begin with ?

He scoffs, watching every little facial expression you make while watching how you’re getting him off.

"’kay enough, now sit", he breathes.

So eager to finally sit on him, you quickly get closer to him and line up over his cock. Grabbing a nice handful of his hair, and when you’re ready you put your arms around his neck and clench your fists when his cock slides right back in. Fuck, it feels just so good..

"good girl"

His voice echoes in your ear it sends shivers down your spine. If only you could just sit on his face for once, maybe he’d stop talking shit with that pretty fucking voice of his while he’s at it.

"fuuck.. Eren!"

After a few minutes of feeling empty, he just feels so big, bigger than when you were pressed on the car back there. It makes your eyes squeeze shut from the stretch again, whining in his ear. You just don’t want this to stop, starting to move your hips back and forth before he stops you.

"hey, shh shh, slow down little one. i’m the one deciding whether you can move or not.

He smirks, searching for your eyes.

you would run away from me minutes ago and now look who’s so impatient to be dumb fucked, huh ?"

You feel so ridiculous, it’s so stupid how you were repeating to yourself how never will you ever fuck anyone in this clan, more so how much you hated Eren and his bratty demeanor, and now look who’s begging him to fuck you deep and nasty. He might just have turned you into a brainless fucking whore.

Before doing anything he yanks you down entirely on his length, canceling any of the small centimeters you didn’t even think about getting inside anymore. You swear it’s about to tickle your stomach if this doesn’t end, and just when you start to adjust, Eren grabs your waist harshly and starts guiding you up and down on his cock, playing with you as he pleases. Once he makes it slow and precise, once he makes it fast and stupidly deep, making the impact echo inside the vehicle. He could finally use you as his personal little fuck toy.

You moan, it feels so fucking wrong but so fucking good at the same time, your eyes cross and it makes him giggle as usual. His eyes still glued to your face, never missing any of your reactions. It feels so good, and he sees it, he feels it by the way you squeeze his arm, how you’re leaving marks on his skin and who even cares, at least he can finally tease you about how much of a whore you can be when you’re around him, on him. Even after all this time refusing, insulting and despising every piece of his crew’s methods.

Your head falls on his shoulder and you can’t help but melt in his arms, letting your collarbone bend, refusing to hold the posture, it’s just too much for your brain to process the feeling there. It’s absolutely not what you were picturing as 'what fucking with Eren' was, you were actually far from there.

It’s fucking deep and hard, and again just when you feel you’re about to lose it, he stops. Earning a whine from you, and your hips trying to move under his strong grip.

"no, no, no, Eren! please!"

“shh, it’s alright, catch your breath kitten, you’re panting."

He says giving you that fake asshole worried look, searching for your eyes again. He slides his hand up in your hair, pulling your head back to have a better view of your mid-conscious face.

He laughs, you look so pathetic and he got what he wanted from you after all this time. He leans in for a small taste of your neck where he kisses and bites your skin. Please not the hickeys. He slowly and slightly brushes your back with his other hand, before he ends up squeezing you close to him.

He bites and kisses up your jaw, your cheek and looks at you again before he pulls in for a kiss on those pretty reddish fucking lips of yours.

“Ohh how many times have I got a boner by just imagining the taste of your lips.. fuck”

Eren sighs, you don’t even bother reacting to his teasings, how many times have you imagined it too..

He uses the firm grip he got on your hair to kiss you and slide his tongue in your mouth, kissing you nice and harsh. You turn into a puppet in his hands, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. He smiles, enjoying that kiss a little too fucking much.

You unconsciously move your hips once, signalling him he’s still inside and you want him. Fuck it, fuck me, that’s what i want.

He stops your moves, unbuttoning that pretty shirt you wear, sliding the tissue of your bra down your tits enough for him to free them. As soon as they pop out, he’s on it. Pinching and rubbing circles around your nipple while the other is harassed by his mouth. He bites, licks and kisses the edge of your nipples, making you jolt and tighten around his cock when it gets too good.

He has you firm between his arms, leaving you no escape from his sweet torture, finally moving your hips over him. His lips bullying your tits like he has been craving for it over ages again.

The grip he has on your waist, leads him to search that perfect spot inside you, forcing his cock deep inside your cunt. Your hips move back and forth over his shaft and while he sucks on your tits, here it is.

"ah! fuck!"

Eren shots his head up to look right into your eyes.

"yeah ? right there ?"

"yeah..", you sigh.

"right there huh ?"

You frantically nod in response.. yeah, it’s the spot and be ready for him to memorize it, for.. ulterior purposes. He hits his hips up and down using every motion, possibility and strength he has to reach that g-spot over and over until you cum.

Your pornographic moans feeding his soul right next to his ear, it feels like your mind is going blank at how his rubbing on that spot so well.

"a-ah..ngh! Er-!"

"yeah ? right there ? gonna cum f’me, yeah ?

be a good girl and cum on my cock.

c’mon big girl."

You fall forward, losing your strength of holding your back straight again, it’s almost hilarious how you seem so blank and manipulated by him. Yeah, you hate him, but how long can you last before you lose your mind and feel addicted to the feeling of this cunt harassment ? How long can you last, bouncing on his dick so desperate, before you admit you spend hours fucking your pillows at night while moaning his name under your breath ?

His perfume gets right up to your brain as he gets faster and faster, punching that fucking spot inside you with the pinkish tip you were rubbing just minutes ago.

He fucks you deep, bullying your walls with his veins and mushroom tip, he wants to cum inside you so bad, so so bad.

The orgasm grows inside you more and more, and Eren knows. He repeats sweet dirty things in your ears while you feel like you’re gonna cum any time soon.

"yeah, see how we fuck pretty fucking whores like you, mmh ?

i’m gonna fill you up so well, you better not waste a single drop of my precious cum, 'derstand ?

fuck.. this feels good, mmh ? show me how it feels, let me hear it."

He’s just so fucking loud for fucks sake.

"shut- up, oh my- god.. don’t s-top.."

"beg.", he stops

"fuck.. pl-ease Eren, don’t s-top.. pl-uhh"

"that’s right, good girl."

Why does he even love that pet name so much ? He can’t stop now anyway. He’s too pussy drunk too to actually think about stopping his movements. He fucks his dick in and out of you at an inhuman pace at this point. He just wants to cum too at the end.

Before he even has the time to fuck you a little bit more into your orgasm, you moan loud enough to make everyone around the car know you both are fucking, as he lets out a moan too.

He moans, airy or low toned, he does as it comes out, he feels even better, not that you weren’t already tight enough for him to risk cumming from the first pull but the way your walls spasm around him tickles the veins and tip of his cock so well.

Eren is so close to cum, everything feels so right from the way you sit and bounce on his cock like a good little whore, to the way you moan his name as loud as you used to yell how much of a piece of shit he is.

"Eren.. please"

"just a little more, kitten.."

Few thirst left and he’s spilling his cum inside you, making it drip down your thighs, mixing with your cum following close after him. A bunch of loads, feeling up the entirety of your core and he just can’t stop fucking his semen back inside you.

"we’re not gonna waste any drop, yeah ?

who’s fault is it gonna be if you end up making the back seats dirty, mmh my little prisoner ?"

Quick enough he slows down his thirsts and gets his breath back. Hands all over you, helping your head up, catching your gaze through the mist of your teary eyes. He tugs your hair back behind your ear. He giggles, seeing how fucked out you look. You really do look wasted, and yet not even a drop of alcohol or drug was spilled in your blood, only his cum.

He presses a kiss on your lips.

"let’s get back on road, babe, I have to drop you off before they start wondering where you’re at."

He lifts you up from his cock after a minute of recovering, letting you drop off on the seat next to him. It takes you a few second before you finally get up and come back to your senses.

He hands you your pantie, tugged in the back pocket of his jeans, and you quickly put it back on.

Everything is so weird to talk casually when you get back on road. He stays silent for once and his eyes swings between you and the road more often. Eren is mostly just so proud he proved you wrong about you hating him, you’re down bad, you daydream about him nonstop and now you can’t even try to lie to him anymore. It’d be pointless. Now you’re his anyway, all for him to use.

He knows how he makes you feel on a daily basis, he knows so well all your eye rolls are to hide the fact that he makes you feel giggly. He knows how all the mean words you say to him sound like a ‘fuck me, i’m begging you’. He knows you too well now.

Now all you’re wondering is how you're gonna make it through the night, sleeping or replaying that fuck scene over and over in your head until you find something to hate him about again.

Leaving his car when he’s parked in front of the mansion, you stay quiet all the way to your room door where he escorts you.

You both barely talk a word, only a small good night and an awkward eye contact, his eyes staring right back at you with a small smirk again.

Eren huffs when you close the door, turning around to join his own room soon enough.

"i might be an asshole sometimes and she might be stubborn as fuck but.. damn she moaned my name louder than i expected her to", he scoffs.

He's such an asshole.

well.. that’s a bit more like it.

yeah, i know that’s a lot of f word uses oopsies

im so unsure abt this one, mc was supposed to be kidnapped at first and still able to go to school thats why she wanted to escape but.. whatever i guess we still like his pretty fucker ass.

anyway, hope you like it [:

(i tried to rewrite some parts so dont mind if theres a problem somewhere loll)

@eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.

[ambrozjas]

Could you do a song-fic with Sodapop Curtis w/ the song "Stupid Cupid" by Connie Francis? Love your writing, take your time 💕

stupid cupid ꨄ︎

sodapop curtis x fem!reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

THIS WAS SITTING IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG BUT I LITERALLY LOCKED IN FOR THIS FIC ITS SO CUTE I SWEAR JUST READ ITTT

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

reader is referred to as a girl and a lady, reader is called gorgeous and beautiful, beginning of this fic has soda in highschool so it takes place before the outsiders

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

1609 words, 8588 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

stupid cupid, you’re a real mean guy

i’d like to clip your wings so you can’t fly

it felt like the roman god of love had shot sodapop right through the heart, and boy did soda hate it. that’s all that he thought while he gazed at you, chin held in palm as he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. when the school air had a chokehold on everybody, it left out you. you looked absolutely divine. soda wondered if the gods, if there were any or it was just some stories made up to fill the minds of lovesick kids like himself, favored you. because as he looked at you, the sun just seemed to reflect off you just right, to where it coated the side of your face with a honey orange. you looked like an angel sent on earth, disguised as a teenager in soda’s highschool. he asked himself what you were doing in tulsa rather than some other fancy state like california.

i’m in love and it’s a crying shame

and i know that you’re the one to blame

“mr. curtis.” a stern voice broke through to sodapop, breaking the stained glass that in soda’s mind, was a mural of you and only you.

he snapped his neck to look up at the teacher, hovering over his desk as a finger harshly pointed at the paper on soda’s desk, almost empty.

“uh—sorry, sir.” mumbled sodapop as he grabbed his pencil and put his best thinking face on, hoping that the teacher would take the hint and retreat back to his old scratched up desk that looked like it had survived world war one.

the teacher narrowed his eyes at him, his upper lip curling into a sneer as he looked down at soda, before slowly walking back to his desk.

soda comically sighed in relief, taking one more glance back at you. he pressed his lips together tightly as he saw you talking to your friends. he always loved seeing you smile.

he exhaled sharply, earning another warning look from his teacher. soda tilted his head down as he studied the math problems below him, cradling his hand in his hand as his brain tried his best to work.

hey, hey set me free

stupid cupid, stop picking on me

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

i cant do my homework and i cant think straight

“what’s up with you?” ponyboy asked, not looking up from his book. in the corner of his eye, he watched sodapop bounce his leg vigorously as he tried to rub his temples to somehow think better.

“nothin’, pony. don’t worry ‘bout it.” soda responded. he threw his head back to lean on the top of the chair, he was really out of ideas. all that occupied his mind was you. he was writing an essay? you pop up into his brain, he accidentally writes your name to which he has to erase afterwards with red ears.

i meet her every morning ‘bout half past eight

i’m acting like a lovesick fool

you even got me carrying your books to school

how could sodapop miss this once in a lifetime opportunity? he just had to talk to you. one day, when you guys met before school, your breath both evident in the cold oklahoma morning, you made a joke about soda carrying your stuff for you.

“here, be a gentleman, yeah?” a laugh slipper past your lips, and when soda heard that gorgeous sound come out of your mouth, how could he deny you?

your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape, not even getting the word out before soda grabbed the books from under your arm and held them under his.

you tilted your head as a smile graced your face. gosh, were there wedding bells? soda definitely heard them.

“y’know i was jokin’, right?” you asked, making sure you weren’t forcing him into doing anything. “i can take them back if you want—“

“nah, it’s alright.“ he brushed it off, waving his free hand dismissively before starting again, “plus, you’re right. how could i leave a pretty lady to carry her books on her own?” to that, you sheepishly grinned wider as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear shyly when you looked away.

you mixed me up for good right from the very start

hey now, go play robin hood with somebody else’s heart

the more that soda talked with you, the harder it was to get you out of his head. but the more he talked with you, the less he minded.

soda had dropped out of school. sure, you somewhat contributed to him failing with how much you occupied his head, but it was also on his own.

he was working at the dx with steve, working on cars all day to especially help darry out.

soda wiped his face with his forearm, cleaning his oily rag as steve rambled about something in the background. he hadn’t seen you in awhile, considering that instead of walking with you to school, darry had dropped steve and soda off at work.

but suddenly, the door tripped the bell, giving it a loud ring as soda looked up at who was walking through the door. and speak of the devil.

he could recognize you just from your sneakers. his head whipped back up to meet your eyes, and gosh was it refreshing to see your face again. a soft smile still remained on your face, as it usually did.

“sodapop! so you really was workin’ here, huh?” you asked, eyes roaming around the multitude of shelves in the gas station interior.

soda’s mouth gaped, opening and closing like a fish. he watched as you walked up to the register and drummed your hands lightly on the counter.

“yeah!”, soda finally managed to blurt out, “how’ve you been? anythin’ new happen at school?” he asked, hearing steve finally shut up. soda could just imagine his ears pricking up at the sound of a pretty girl’s voice appearing.

“nothin’ much,” you leaned in and put a hand to the side of your mouth in a secretive manner, “mandy got pregnant.” soda gasped as he comically brought a hand up to his mouth. you guys whispered and gossiped, steve eyeballing both of you cautiously before slinging an arm around soda’s shoulders and brashly giving him a loud, “who’s this, soda?”

sodapop squinted at his friend and slowly turned his head, full of embarrassment. your eyes darted between the two of them, before giving steve a small wave and quietly giving him your name. your eyes fell back on soda, “well, i was just wonderin’ if you’d like to go to the drive-in wit’ me on saturday?”

“yeah, sure!” why was he acting like such a dork now? in front of the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen? but he sighed with relief when you nodded, giving him the same sweet smile you always greeted him with.

you got me jumping like a crazy clown

and i don’t feature what you’re putting down

once you had left the dx, soda went out to the garage and almost squealed, punching the air in excitement. steve narrowed his eyes as he watched through the garage windows, genuinely considering if soda was possessed or not.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

saturday couldn’t come quicker. it was already a great time leading up to the date, soda was confident. he was looked at himself in the mirror, popping his collar with assertiveness and heading out the door.

during the actual date, he tried to make subtle moves. shifting closer to you, touching thighs or linking pinkies. although you seemed okay with it, there was no engagement on your part. that almost worried soda, he knew you asked him on a date, but he was still overthinking. was he not all you expected? was he doing too much? too little?

but at the end of the date, when he drove you home in darry’s car that he begged to drive in, a small silence fell over you when you had reached your destination.

“y’need me to walk you up?”

“it’s alright, but do me a quick favor, will you?” soda couldn’t tear his eyes off your mouth when you spoke, lips painted a wine maroon color that somehow flowed so delicately with your words.

“anything.” was all soda said, before you placed your hand on the side of his cheek, giving him enough time to pull away, before closing your eyes and kissing him.

in that moment, it felt like you two were the only people in the world. just you, and soda, crammed into darry’s truck in the darkness of the night, only illuminated by the small light above you two on the car’s roof.

when you pulled away, you looked at soda’s lips, slightly parted and stained with a light purple-ish red as he looked at you, absolutely mesmerized.

“thank you. i’ll make sure to drop by the dx on my way home, ‘kay?” you said, not waiting for an answer as you bolted out of the vehicle due to your nearing curfew.

well since i’ve kissed her loving lips of wine

the thing that bothers me is that i like it fine

all soda could do was gape as he watched you depart into the sea of outside lights surrounding your front door and windows, watching you turn around give him a small wave once you opened the front door.

still dazed, all soda could do was wave back. before a wide grin appeared on his face as he covered his eyes with his hands.

stupid cupid, sodapop thought.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this better get some likes i worked my ass off for this little fic and it’s only a thousand words 😭😭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[jusmango-shake]

That isn't very cash money of you, Cupid.

Pairing: 03!Donnie x Reader

Fictype: Songfic

Mood: fluff, crack(?)

WARNINGS: self deprecation, SSWEARING 😎, corny feelings Ew romance yucky, reader is in denial, mention of poison(metaphorically)

🥭: I'm SO SORRY FOR GOING OFFLINE FOR SO LONG, I hope y'all can accept this... (Totally not because I suddenly had a billion ideas for Don and had to write them xP)

★Stupid Cupid you're a real mean guy,

I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly.

I'm in love and it's a crying shame..

And I know that you're the one to blame.

As you laid down on your bed, tossing and turning as you struggled to fall asleep. A faint glow of pink visible in the almost pitch black room.

You sat up, groaning while you rubbed your eyes. Taking your phone off of the desk it was currently charging on.

“Real dick move, brain.” you grumbled, looking at the current time.

12:45 PM.

You squinted, the light from your phone almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. The blush finally visible on your face.

Rereading your conversation with Donatello on the handy T-phone he so kindly gave to you, the corners of your lips curving up ever so slightly as you recalled your memories with the Purple Turtle.

He had been running rampant in your mind throughout the week, and you had been yet to catch him.

You sighed, laying back down as you faced the ceiling. You had to accept the fact you liked him sooner or later, why not be in denial for a bit longer?

★Hey hey, set me free!

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

Maybe it was because you had a thing for smart guys, or maybe it's because of his stupid dorky smile, maybe it was because he only had said smile whenever you were around, or maybe—

You blinked, burying your head into your hands as you groaned. Your friend looked at you with growing concern.

"You alright?"

You waved your hands dismissively,

“Yeah, I'm doing great.”

"You ssuureee?"

“i'm very much sure, thank you.”

"Maybe it's that Donatello guy you keep mentioning."

“shut up— no it isn't,”

Your friend has gotten increasingly closer to you, wiggling their eyebrows as they shoved you playfully.

“—Oookay maybe it is.”

"Tell me more?"

“no.”

★I can't do my homework and I can't think straight, I meet her every morning 'bout half past eight.

It wasn't very well hidden, practically everyone in your friend group knew something was up.

You'd randomly message them that you wouldn't be able to make to the hangout followed by some bogus explanation.

Sometimes when they made their way to your house they'd see you sneak off somewhere.

Once you'd almost been caught entering a manhole just to get to the lair, or to Donnie to be more specific.

You did not like it whatsoever.

★I'm acting like a lovesick fool, You've even got me carrying your books to school.

Conversation flowed smoothly as you helped Donnie carry some spare parts from the junkyard, he ranted about some machine he would make with said parts.

At this point you felt as if time itself had stopped, all you could hear was the sound of his voice echoing off the buildings as you two walked through the alleyway.

The road was quite crowded near the garage, it would've been impossible to get in without getting caught. Manhole it is I guess.

You hadn't even noticed that you've already arrived at the manhole cover.

You absentmindedly followed his figure and he knelt down to take off the cover, looking at you expectantly.

He cleared his throat before gesturing to the open manhole.

“wh— oh, uh.. my bad.” you murmured,

"I'll go down and you hand me the parts, sounds good?" He smiled, if only he knew the effect that had on you.

“..yeah.”

You watched as he placed the spare parts on the ground, then moved to go down the ladder.

Once he gave the signal you grabbed the bucket next to the hole, a rope tied to it so it would be easier to get stuff down if it was too heavy or big to get down normally.

You placed as many parts as you could fit in the bucket before grabbing the rope and slowly letting it down the long hole.

Once Donnie was done getting all the parts out he tugged lightly on the rope, letting you know he was done.

After repeating that process more times than you could count, you slowly ascended down the ladder. Once again carrying the spare parts while you made your way to the lair, Donnie humming some tune he heard while Mikey was watching the Television.

You didn't like how you could practically smell Donnie from how close you two were, maybe it was because he smelled like sewer or maybe it was because of the fact it made your heart race. Probably both anyway.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he started talking.

"Hey, (Nickname)?"

“uh— yeah? What's up?”

"I just wanted to thank you for helping, it means a lot to me." He beamed up at you.

You looked away, already feeling the heat creeping up onto your face.

“Psh.. it's no Biggie, it's the least I could do as a... Friend.”

It hurt to say that, partially because it was true.

Donnie chuckled, nudging you playfully.

"Yeah, well, I'm glad to have you as a friend then."

That hurt even more, and this time, it's because he could never see you more than just a friend.

★Hey hey, set me free!

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

Your heart raced whenever you even just thought of him, and it broke just as fast. You knew deep down that he'd never like you back, (did you though?). if Cupid really did exist, he's cruel.

You clutched your beating heart as you hid behind a wall, trying your hardest to calm it down before going back to meet Donnie again.

All this from just grazing each other's hand? Maybe you really were pathetic, or maybe you're just touch starved. Could be both.

You knew Donnie was just sitting there watching TV, completely unaware of what power he had over you. You felt bad lying to him, you usually told him everything. But not this, it's not worth losing him over some feelings. Right?

★You mixed me up for good right from the very start.. Hey now, go play Robin Hood with somebody else's heart!

When you first met Donnie, it was like an arrow went straight through your heart. Maybe you're over exaggerating it, maybe.

It's like the arrow was laced with poison, slowly infecting every part of your body without you knowing it, and lastly, it infected your heart.

You always had a feeling you liked him from the start, maybe it was the fact you couldn't accept liking him more than just platonic liking.

It got harder and harder to push back down into the deep depths of your heart. The last straw was when it finally hit you straight in the face, you loved him. And you couldn't do anything about it, neither could you decide whether he'd reciprocate or not. It was killing you slowly, just like poison.

★You got me jumping like a crazy clown,

And I don't feature what you're putting down.

By no means did you think you even slightly deserved him, Donnie's a really sweet guy. He deserved more than some person who can't even come to terms with their own feelings.

Still didn't stop your heart from doing a backflip into a cartwheel into a handstand flat-back though.

Every time you saw him, your heart just decides to do a whole workout routine inside your chest, the butterflies in your stomach don't help either.

★Well since I kissed her loving lips of wine,

The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine~

Hey hey, set me free?

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me!

It did not give you any sense of pride to admit this but, on more than one occasion, you have fantasized about kissing Donnie. It embarrassed you to no end. (Stupid teenager hormones)

Maybe one day Cupid would decide to have mercy on you, and finally let you move on. Doesn't seem like he's going to, though.

Maybe for one day you could stop being such a weirdo for Donnie? Just for one day?

★You got me jumping like a crazy clown,

And I don't feature what you're putting down!

The fact that you always felt happier whenever you were just with him, even being in the same room could dramatically change your mood didn't help at all.

You hated always wanting to be near him, his entire existence feeling like a drug to you. Time always seemed to fly faster than when you weren't with him, you could never get enough of his rambles, anything he made amazed you, you hated it. You hated being in love.

And you hated the intense feeling of dread whenever you even thought of confessing to him, being rejected by all means was not on your to-do list. Neither was ruining your perfectly good best-friendship with Donnie.

★Well since I kissed his loving lips of wine,

The thing that bothers me is that I like it fine.

You got so caught up in your train of thought that you hadn't even considered the fact Donnie liked you back, maybe it's a defense mechanism set up by your brain so you couldn't dig an even deeper pit.

Donnie watched you do your homework as you fail to notice his longing, he's loved you for a long time already. But by his logic you would never like him back, who would wanna date a green sewer turtle? Living in the sewers is bad enough. What about being a mutant?

He quickly corrected an answer you had written down, his arm coming up from behind you to take a hold of your hand. He erased the previous answer and wrote the correct one.

He knew he couldn't hold your hand like this for too long or it'd be suspicious. Though the both of you craved each other's touch.

You were the only person who would actually listen to his rambling instead of just nodding along and pretending you were. You would ask questions that would spark new conversations, you came to him for answers. You looked for him when you needed help.

You genuinely enjoyed his ramblings. You enjoyed his company though he had nothing more to offer than just knowledge and machines he had made. He didn't even need to talk sometimes, you would just watch him do whatever he was doing. Offering help when he needed it.

Donnie only snapped out of it once you had begun waving in his face.

“—nnie, D? DonTron? Donatello? The turtle in purple? Donasaurus? Downtown Donsville?”

"Yeah—? Sorry I was- uh zoned out."

“could you help me with uh— number twenty five?” you scratched the base of your neck.

"Twenty five—? Didn't I already explain it to you? Like, eight times?"

You laughed sheepishly, turning around to face him.

What you expected was a look of disapproval. as much as Donnie loved explaining things, no one wants to repeat themselves. what you hadn't expected however, was that Donnie was actually much closer than you thought.

As soon as you turned around, you were met with Donnie's lips. You had accidentally kissed him.

As you pulled away, two fingers on your lips while your whole face flushed a shade of red.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you avoided Donnie's gaze like the plague, what if he hated it? What if he doesn't wanna be friends anymore?

Your thoughts were immediately shut up by Donnie clearing his voice.

"I'm sorry if this isn't the right time but— can we do that again.?"

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you took in the significantly darker shade on his face. You thought of what he'd looked like flustered, it was even better than you'd imagined.

“i— Yeah, I guess..?”

You held your breath in as he leaned in closer, your face scrunched up as you felt his breath fan over your face.

You peeked through one of your eyes when you felt him move away, a bashful expression mixed with a hint of sadness behind it on his face.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, glancing over at you.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, ya kno."

Shit— that's not-

Before you could think of anything else, it was like someone pressed autopilot in your mind.

You quickly spun around in the chair, extending your hands to his face. You gently cupped his cheeks as you leaned in,

Donnie's eyes opened in shock as he felt your lips softly kiss the edge of his lips, you had missed his mouth entirely.

You pulled away anxiously, your face heating up at the fact you completely ruined the moment by missing his lips.

Your eyes frantically searched his eyes, trying to catch some semblance of a hint that everything was fine and that Donnie doesn't hate you.

Unfortunately for Donnie, he was too dumbstruck and lovestruck to form a coherent sentence.

The only thing he managed out wasn't even a word, all he did was shoot out a lazy smile.

You sighed in relief, happy that at least he enjoyed it.

While you turned back around to continue doing your homework, you were interrupted by a familiar green hand.

"Maybe one more?"

★Hey hey, set me free

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

A few days afterwards, he finally confesses, and by confesses I mean he builds a robot out of spare parts to confess for him. Partially because he's too shy to do it himself and also because he wanted to impress you as well.

And after that was just a hazy blur of study dates and lovey dovey stuff, as Mikey so kindly put it.

You held Donnie's hand as you two watched the stars on top of a random building, you listened as Donnie pointed out every constellation he could see and facts about every star that was apart of each one.

"Did you know that Sirius is the brightest star we can currently see? With our bare eyes?"

You chuckled, gently caressing Donnie's hand with your thumb.

"But I'd have to disagree with it, yknow why?" He added, sitting upright as he gazed down lovingly at you.

“No, why?” you sat up as well, looking at him questioningly.

"Becauseee.. you're the brightest star I've ever seen." He grinned at you.

You grinned back, a light blush adorning both of your cheeks.

“You're such a cornball, Donnie.”

"Yeah, but I'm your cornball."

“Donnie!”

"What?"

You two laughed, smiling lovingly at eachother.

★Hey hey, set me free

Stupid Cupid stop picking on me.

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

I am going to write a scene between two characters that is so improbably emotionally honest.

(or: another exerpt from a fic i'll never finish, entitiled "griddlehark finally talk about stuff" in my drafts.)

-

Gideon wasn't sleeping. Harrow knew this because she also wasn't sleeping. But her own sleeplessness was born of long habit. It was an easy, comfortable insomnia. The dark and quiet were all she had left of home.

Gideon, though, had never been prone to insomnia before. She had always been easily exhausted and prone to oversleeping, rocklike and deaf. And yet, there she was, for the third night in a row, up at odd hours in the safehouse’s kitchen. Harrow could hear her softly shuffling around. She hesitated, considered leaving her to her own devices—what claim, after all, did Harrow have on her anymore? What right had she to butt into any of Gideon's affairs?

But she knew, in the way that she knew almost everything about Gideon, that she was at her worst when feeling abandoned. Harrow would go if she was told to go, but she had to try, at least. She would not abandon Gideon again.

So she went out to the kitchen and found Gideon hunched over the counter, wolfing down plain crackers. This, at least, was somewhat relatable to her.

“Can't sleep?” she asked, as it seemed as good an opener as any.

“Nope.” Gideon did not stop eating as she spoke. “Guess my body's still not in the habit. Being dead and all. Do you know how weird it is to be dead? Your organs just kind of…sit there. But they don't actually do anything. Puts a real damper on all your vital impulses. Like, all of them.”

This was more words than Gideon had said to her in weeks, which was good, even if they were the last words in the world Harrow wanted to hear. She floundered for something to say. Her face must've been doing something, because Gideon looked at it and said, “Oh, right, sorry. Wouldn't want to upset you with the details. Paul told me not to talk about it to you. Be a real shame to show you the consequences of your actions.”

Harrow tried not to react to that, but it hit her like a slap all the same. “I only wanted to save you.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I might not want to be saved? Did you ever stop to think, hey, maybe Gideon threw herself on a fencepost because she cared about me and did not want an eternal front-row seat to my continued suffering? No. You didn't. You never thought about what I wanted, you only thought about how you'd lost your favorite chew toy. At least have the decency not to revive the little innocent martyr act from when we were eight. It never fooled me then and it doesn't fool me now. Don't look at me like that.”

“I’m—sorry.”

“You're sorry.”

“I never deserved you. I know that. Not once in my whole miserable life did I deserve to breathe the same air as you. I should've signed your release the day you asked. I should've let you go without conditions and with half our coffers in your pockets. I should’ve begged your forgiveness the first time I said an unkind word to you.”

“You can say that all you like, Harrow, but you never would've.”

“I would now. In a heartbeat. Fat lot of good it does us.”

Gideon shrugged. “I'm not sure I would've left anyway, back then.”

Harrow was startled by that. She could remember Gideon speaking of nothing else, as children. “No?”

“I mean, what would I have even done? Joined the cohort? Been there, done that, and I was bored in a month. I don't know—I don't know. Seems like everything I used to believe in was a sham. My parents. The cohort. You.”

“I don't know how you want me to respond to that.”

“Try telling me the truth.”

Harrow was quiet for a long moment. She had been telling the truth. She needed to find a truth Gideon could believe. Start from there. “You're right. I wouldn't have let you go, when we were children. I could never stand to have you out of arm’s reach, for the same reason you would never have left. I would be at a loss. The fabric of the universe would come unraveled without you. I believed that then, and I've seen evidence of it now.”

“Bullshit, Harrow. You liked having something to play with.”

“You know better than anyone that both can be true, you insufferable, pedantic meathead. You know better than anyone how I felt then, what I feel now. Do you think I was ever stupid enough to believe myself your superior? Do you think I never understood what I was doing? You were the single point around which my entire world revolved. Everything made so much sense, when it was all about you. I have seen my life without you, Griddle, and it was colder and emptier than I had thought possible. In retrospect, the idea that I had endured such a childhood at all should have alerted me to the fact that something was wrong.

“I have never flinched away from my own faults. My inadequacies, perhaps, but not my faults. And I have always known that you were better than I am. I was once in denial, but never truly in ignorance, of the horror of our treatment of you. And yet the only sin you hold against me is that I tried to release you. That I removed you from my reach, relieved you of my beck and call. That is the only thing you have ever refused to forgive me for. Why?”

“You know why.”

“I want you to tell me. For once in your life, just tell me how you feel.”

“I feel stupid. I feel betrayed. I feel like I have not slept properly in a month, because I haven't. I feel like I was a corpse recently, because I was. Is this what you want to hear?”

“I want you to answer the question.”

Gideon stopped, took a deep breath. “We both already know, Harrow. Why do you need me to tell you?”

“Plausible deniability.”

She hesitated for a very long time. “I never wanted to be separated from you, either. I kidded myself about being your rightful equal when we were kids, but I don't think I even believe that now. My life was always going to be—you. I knew that. I just. Became alright with it. At some point. It was like—like, imagine if someone took your bones away, or something. The ones you carry around in your pockets, I mean, not the ones in your body. But kinda those too? Like, if everything that made you you was suddenly stripped away and you were useless. And I had to watch, Harrow, all of it, knowing I could help you. Knowing I could save you, if only you'd let me fulfill my only purpose that ever really mattered.”

[chaifootsteps]

Remember when viv said she loves her characters and they were in good hands when the recast was announced? Remember when fans said to trust viv? Remember when they said episode 8 was gonna be banger feast for the eyes and important go the overarching story? Remember when HH was gonna be released in summer 2023? At some point you can only act the fool till you get wake up and realize you’ve been lied and cheated

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me eight dozen more times, you're probably a Vivziepop stan.

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 01/05/2024

super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont

Season 8 No Album Release (Read More) super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont

Ripper Unknown

So. It's been a month now. Has it all settled yet? Have we had the time to let SiIvaGunner's April Fools 2024 event sink in, 30 days later? Speaking personally, I don't believe I have yet. Visions of Gegagedigedagedago, Pomny (digital circus), Boykisser, Brainless Kitty and all of my other favorite memes continue to haunt me to this very day - I see one of the events' rips in my recommended, and in the blink of an eye five hours will have passed. I cannot be anything but amazed at the surgical precision that the SiIva team captured the phenomena of online internet brainrot with during this event, spanning the whole range of severity levels from bad to worse. super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont was certainly not the worst it got - yet it embodies everything the event sought to achieve through it's title alone.

But, right, the event - you'll have noticed right away that everything about the above-linked video's metadata is completely awry from typical SiIvaGunner videos. No attempt at a bait-and-switch, completely different video description, not even a thumbnail of the game used...and what the fuck is the "Buddy Holly Soundfont"???? What's going on here? Well, a lot of these traits may seem familiar to you if you've been on other corners of YouTube in the last few years - like I mentioned briefly back in we are number one but with outdated memes over it, there's been a trend in how non-SiIva audio edits are presented on YouTube as of late. There's an algorithm to appease now, after all - surprises and ambiguity only serve to ward off potential new listeners! After the explosive popularity of some of these, particularly during 2023 with videos like Nirvana's Nevermind but with the SM64 soundfont, they began feeling inescapable - often times sounding pretty low-effort to boot. I don't intend to shame anyone who's made these videos or anyone who enjoys them, of course, but...through how hard they aim to appease the algorithm that be, its difficult not to see these videos as attention-seeking first, and as creative endeavors second.

Which then brings us back to SiIvaGunner. Eight years in, and the channel's way of presenting its videos has remained thoroughly consistent, rain or shine - content in charting its own course. Narratively, this is actually playing to the channel's thematic core, something enforced all the way back in The Reboot story of Season 1, and that continues to be relevant over the years through rips like NIGHTMARESCAPE 〜Unrestrained HyperCam 2〜 (Final Boss Phase 2), and indeed through this very April Fools event. That core is simple: To never conform, to never restrict, to let the channel's team of artist continue doing what they love purely for love's sake, rather than to appease a crowd or a system. Throughout this April Fools day event, then, it was as if we were shown the twisted view on that core, the channel's rippers following the opposite creed - clickbaity titles and thumbnails, no core theme, often even lacking any regard for the tracks being remixed - several times the Wii Shop Channel theme was simply called "The Wii Theme", and of course the very notion of games having "soundfonts" is something that's woefully misinformed to begin with. Opening the entire event with Buddy Holly by Weezer but in the Mario 64 Soundfont set the stage perfectly - after all, what game more overused in "soundfont" edits than Super Mario 64, what album more trendy to playfully make fun of in 2024 than Weezer's Blue album, and what song from said album is more memed than its hit single, Buddy Holly?

Except, of course, this whole thing went one layer deeper. Throughout the four months that the season has been running for thus far, Season 8's running theme above all else has been pure silliness - everything from a Justin Bieber takeover, to an MLG day, to the currently-ongoing SpongeBob day embodies that theme perfectly. And at the helm of it all sits the Joke-Explainer 7000, the current in-universe manager of the channel. Her name doesn't lie: as we saw back in Joke-Explainer™ 7000 Fusion Collab, she do be Explaining the Jokes, and that was initially assumed to be the bit of this very April Fools bit, the titles like super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont explaining the jokes of the event immediately. But forget not the point of April Fools as a holiday - to deceive. Indeed, though the titles suggest that the team are spending the day just explaining the joke of every rip uploaded, they're in reality just spoiling the supposed "premise". Listen to any one of them yourself, and you'll be given a bait-and-switch surprise which completely transforms the rip of choice. And as the day went on, these surprises only grew stranger and stranger...

SiIvaGunner's April Fools events have an incredible track record, as I've hopefully made clear in Our Sweet Parsley and Your Best Nightmario - but I think I can safely say this year's bit was at least the FUNNIEST one of them all. Every minute of the day felt like slipping deeper into insanity, made all the more clear the moment super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont was uploaded - in a matter of hours, the event had gone from making fun of low-effort soundfont edits that very much DO exist on YouTube, to completely making up an entirely new tier of slop through the very idea of a "Buddy Holly Soundfont". In case it needs to be explained, "soundfonts" are used to refer to video games using sequenced music, wherein individual instruments are played note-by-note through data sent by the game, rather than being streamed from a recording - it is IMPOSSIBLE to derive a "soundfont" from songs like Buddy Holly, played on live instruments and saved as masters back in the 90s. That is the gag that super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont is built on - the "instruments" used to recreate Bob-Omb Battlefield from Super Mario 64 are intentionally low-quality snippets taken from Buddy Holly, used just the same as Super Mario 64's sequenced instruments are used within soundfont edits.

The end result feels like getting splashed with cold water at every part of listening. Rivers' repeating "Whut" voiceline being used as the main melody for the first 40 seconds, for instance, is the kind of obviously "wrong" thing one would never seriously do in this sort of arrangement, yet it only serves to add to the joke here, of just how far we've fallen so deep into the event. The tinny guitar shredding, the low-effort thumbnail edit, the vocals suddenly being added onto the track, the bass being far deeper in the mix than it reasonably should be...it's an experience to behold, and just as you're letting it all sink in, the vocals are suddenly pitch-shifted to the quintessential SiIva meme, Grand Dad himself The Flintstones - its like the rip is poking fun at your misery, as to remind you that this IS indeed still SiIvaGunner, the bit is still going, you are merely along for SiIva's wild ride.

The entire event was RELENTLESSLY funny to see unfold from every angle. Be it experiencing every rip as it was uploaded, or seeing the comments' reactions to the gradual spiral of rot we were being taken on, or most importantly - realizing just how much fun the team must've still had finding ways to subvert expectations at every turn. Season 8 has been an absolute blast so far, and I cannot wait to see where its patented silliness takes us next - even if it'll be hard to surpass the shit we saw on this day, and the absolute state of things that super mario 64 but it's in the buddy holly soundfont represents. Truly one of the SiIvaGunner rips of all time.

[dadsbongos]

P(AV) IN V

word count - 1.5 k / warnings - unprotected sex, pinv sex, vanilla :), make up sex, fem reader who wears skirt, not beta read

summary - you and pav fight... and then make up :3 with cool kitchen counter sex ~~~

“Late,” your words slice through the warm air as soon as the front door stutters open. Your icy tone dregs that welcomed warmth, blistering it down a raw, unforgiving chill, “Hours late.”

Pavel flashes a cheesy grin, manually crinkling the corners of his eyes, “My love! You’re alive, and you’re well! We’re both still alive and well,” his rambling persists as he slides through your frigid doorway and politely stops at the shoe rack, “How amazing is that, dearest? We could perish at any given moment should All-mer will, and yet we both still stand. Breathing. And well. And still…” he sighs, hesitant to break eye contact and pull off his boots (fearful your teeth will latch onto his neck the instant it's unguarded), “Still in love.”

Your folded arms remain firm over your chest, but the stiffness of such a guarded stance at least gives Pavel the confidence you won’t pounce as he unties his shoes.

“Yes, thank All-mer, my free fool has returned home. And in a lieutenant’s uniform no less… he shames us and his beloved All-mer for that. But yes, thank All-mer he’s home,” he’s wincing at the sting of your words, knowing exactly how terribly he’s set himself up, “Three hours late.”

Pavel finishes removing his muddied boots and settling them on the bottom layer of the rack in silence. Once that job is finished, he cannot hide behind the chore any longer -- now, he is forced to confront the full wrath of a woman scorned. Not just any woman, the only woman he’s sworn himself to; and not just any kind of scorn, the kind bred from arriving three hours late for anniversary dinner.

Finally, he weaves his fingers together at the pelvis and stares with those silvery sharp eyes; golden curls that have played you like a fiddle many times before falling over his forehead. As if he’s some kind hearted businessman from the center of town pleading for his wife’s forgiveness rather than the man he actually is.

He hasn’t even presented you with a ring, yet.

“I’m very, very late,” Pavel confirms, but it’s the last you want to hear. You already know this, what you want to know is what his reasoning could possibly be -- what made him think it was appropriate to come home without so much as a bouquet of flowers? He suspires sharply, so sharp it feels like a stab right in his lung, and shoulders scrunch towards his ears defensively, “I don’t have an excuse.”

“Pav…” you’re not keen as to why you trouble yourself groaning his name. It solves nothing, the only solace you scavenge is knowing it makes guilt bloom in his chest.

Even that is shallow.

“I don’t,” Pavel removes his hat and strips the monster’s hide from his back. Another way you know Pavel is not like the businessmen in town, when he steps forward more parts bare than clothed -- only a fraction of his intent is libido, “I was working, and then it was eight.”

“‘Working’,” you scoff, turning against the kitchen counter to pore into the steel sink. Colored blobs have pooled in the bottom, shifting in time with your unsteady rocking, “You’re obsessive, this is destructive. You’re going nowhere.”

“I told you,” now his sorrow is adopting irritation, brows furrowing and jaw tensing, “I told you exactly who I was, and you said you could live with it. I told you what I wanted for my life, and you went along with me anyway. I am sorry that I’m late, but don’t you dare pretend I’m doing this regardless of you.”

Unfortunately, you cannot dissent those points. Pavel was upfront that his life’s goal was different from other men. He was willing to meet standards such as marriage or pets or owning a two-story home, but didn’t need those things. He needed to kill the Kaiser. He needed revenge. He needed Godblood on his hands.

You were an unforeseen, much appreciated, highlight on his otherwise dismal path.

And now he was muddying it all, wasn’t he?

Pavel trudges further into the kitchen, naked bar the whities on his hips and socks on his feet. He’s comfortable again, and you must be too because your shoulders slacken. He feels more human now than he had during his entire drag of work. The men he bunks with are as hideous as wild animals, their immortal stench somehow worse. Pavel had begged for this temporary leave since the turn of the new year.

Only to finally return to you hours later than he’d promised. Pavel wisens himself to feel the shame searing through every heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” he slinks up behind you at the sink, tender arms and soft cheek melting your frostbitten exterior, “I have no excuse,” he brushes loose hairs from your temple, fingertips kissing tenderly over your skin seconds before his lips do, “You’re right, dear. I should’ve paid you more mind, but I am not graced with tact. I will be better to you.”

One of the things that drew you and Pavel to each other was a mutual understanding of fire. And hatred. And hiding beneath slumped bodies until soldiers left. You understand Pavel as much as you’re irritated with him. His obsession is your obsession. If you’d been able to dedicate yourself to combat training and wearing their ranks, you’d be no better than him.

“You’re forgiven,” you heave the words as you turn, floating your arms to loop around his neck, “But I wish you’d find a way to be more sensitive to these things.”

“I will,” he soothes.

In an effort to shift the mood, you poke a finger against his bare chest, skin cool from being exposed all day even in his discarded uniform, “Showing off to your superiors again?”

He snorts, a sly smile overtaking his face, “I have to advance at every given opportunity.”

“Bremen whore,” you ‘tsk’.

“Yes, yes, I love the attention.”

“You do have a very lovely body.”

And Pavel most certainly does love your attention.

“Oh, you don’t say?” his breathing turns cursory upon the implication of your words, “Would the pretty lady be willing to demonstrate?”

“She might. If you can promise to be good for her.”

“Always,” he swears it.

You jump back onto the kitchen counter, tugging Pavel between your thighs by the ankles around his waist, “Liar. Make it up to me.”

“If I must,” he makes a show of sighing, kneading the fat of your thighs -- pulling you closer to the edge. Calloused hands burrow under your skirts, tossing the flowing material up and snagging your panties down.

Giggling deliriously, you spread your legs as easily as he maneuvers them. Pavel slicks his right hand with his own saliva, then tucking the wetted digits inside you while thumbing your clit. He’s selfish at the end of the day, removing his fingers (sans the thumb twirling your bundle of nerves) to push his trousers halfway down his thick thighs.

He slides inside you with a heady grown, hands clenching tight around the fat of your hips. His brows pinch and lips pucker, neck craning to mouth at your neck. Kissing as he bucks leisurely into your drooly cunt, always dragging you closer. Pinning your hips with his as he babbles against your skin, nuzzling as if you’re silken.

Pavel pants and whimpers into your ear, greedily soaking up the way your nails dig into his arms and moans sing his name.

“Louder, my love,” he begs, a particular thrust driving your hips back on the counter. His hands claw you back down, “The neighbors should bang down our door- be louder, my love.”

“Insatiable,” you manage to squeal out, head tossing back until your crown is smothering the cold, hard cupboard behind you. Pavel nods shamelessly, now kissing up your cheek to your lips. Drowning out your cries despite his pleas to hear every single one.

Pavel staples you in place, pausing only a moment before hurriedly stuffing you with his cock. He stretches over you, again avaricious for your mouth on his, muffling his own groans under the sloppy stirs of his speedy thrusts. His thumb matches pace, drawing the shiver of his own name, narcissistically, into the apex of your thighs. Your mixing juices soaking his skin. Were he not edging close to climax, Pavel would be tempted to sink to his knees and worship with his mouth. The thought sears through his veins, body seizing -- he hunches unflatteringly, clutching you flush as he cums.

The sensation paired with his devoted attention to your clit cinches the knot in your gut, thighs squished around Pavel’s waist and gasps ragged.

“You’re so handsome when you’re not being a terror,” you coo as Pavel lays his head on your chest.

He snorts quietly, nodding and curling both arms around you, “So tired. You should carry me to our room.”

“If we move, you’re doing the carrying,” you yawn, scooting down to rest your back flat on the counter (causing the both of you to whimper in overstimulation at the jostling).

After a brief respite, Pavel murmurs, half-asleep on your chest, “I’m content to sleep here.”

“Of course…” you yawn again, louder, and scratch your nails through his tangled hair, “I am, too.”

“Of course,” he mimics, laughing tiredly even when you sharply yank a lock of his hair.

[loveanaox]

TxT Personality Off Camera

(If anyone has any request lemme knowww, cause I'm out of ideas🥲)

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Soobin

Cards pulled out: queen of wands, the empress, seven of cups and the fool

So even off camera he is helpful, he helps others, he's confident organizing a lot, a little hot tempered at times, but still quiet, not shy quiet more like confident and still quiet, he watches what to say and not to say. Ja and he does a lot off camera, accomplishing his stuff ect ect.

Ja very nurturing, creative, harmonious.

I think he has a lot of options and shit bit off camera even though he does a lot he procrastinates a lot and a little lazy, tbh I don't blame him, he takes on so many responsibilities he should give himself a break. He also is a little careless off camera, not in a bad way, but super sweet, calm and innocent energy, chill innocent energy

But overall he seems the same just a little more relaxed and chilling.

Love him.

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Yeonjun

Cards pulled out: ace of wands, seven of pentacles, eight of swords and the fool card

Okay so tbh I feel like off camera he still is spontaneous and has his creative spark and likes a challenge, but then he stops himself and really thinks about it and is like, "is this a good idea?" He doubts himself a lot, he feels trapped a lot too. I'm guessing mostly because he's an idol and if he's caught outside doing normal things he might get into trouble. But in general off camera his doubts and fears come to him, shame mann🥺. But off camera he still is careless like Soobin, cuteee.

Anyways yarrr

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Beomgyu

Cards pulled out: ace of swords reversed, four of pentacles, eight of cups reversed, seven of wands, two of swords reversed.

Okay damn beomgyu-

So uh, he gets into a lot of arguments off camera maybe with members, he gets frustrated a lot, he also gets his creative side blocked away, he has a lack of emotional maturity and he's very stingy, he holds onto people, things, money, ect ect.

He has a fear of commitment and a fear of moving on. I don't know why though, probably because of the past. Very ja hot headed but also detached at the same time and cold.

Very indecisive and lots of anxiety and fears that get to him. But he's holding onto it, he doesn't want to move away from it. But he still stands up for himself and his beliefs, very like controlling on a way.

Damn okay he has issues, but ay we have to have hope it will get better.

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Taehyun

Cards pulled out: nine of pentacles, knight of cups reversed, ace of cups and the devil.

Oh damn.

So Taehyun is still independent off camera and whatever whatever, but he's a heartbreaker-, I think he has a lot of one night stands off camera. I think he tricks people tbh, like "hey you're cute I wanna date", but onky gets in bed with them. That's sad lmao.

He has a lot of issues with addictions maybe obsession on something. Him and Beomgyu seem a little similar ngl. Anyways he gives me a little bit of sad, drunk, dad vibes. A little violent ngl. Abusive in idk what way but ja. Thats just sad. Really sad. Idk

Damn.

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Huening Kai

Cards pulled out:page of pentacles reversed, ten of cups reversed, knight of swords and four of cups.

Okay so his head isn't in the head place. He's a little foolish and rebellious in some type of way idk what way. He doesn't take advantage of good opportunities given to him. A little irresponsible. He's having a lot of family issues he's keeping a secret. He acts talkative and shit. Still rebellious and curious but not.

But he's not okay, he's depressed, but ja, that's sad. Idk probs cause of family issues and that he isn't looking at a situation in all types of ways and not his negative way. But ja shame man.

Aye his head really isn't in the right space and he's also trynna be a perfectionist

Damn these are depressing.

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Hope you all enjoyed reading those, I didn't 🥲😭. Anyways byeeeee

[stromuprisahat]

Disgusting old man, pure innocent heroine and the boy she’ll end up with

As mentioned here, I’ve read Angela Carter’s variation on Bluebeard’s wife and some passages remind me of how are we supposed to perceive Darklina, Alina as a heroine and her amazing endgame:

His wedding gift, clasped round my throat. A choker of rubies, two inches wide, like an extraordinarily precious slit throat.

~> Morozova’s collar anyone?

And I saw myself, suddenly, as he saw me, my pale face, the way the muscles in my neck stuck out like thin wire. I saw how much that cruel necklace became me. And, for the first time in my innocent and confined life, I sensed in myself a potentiality for corruption that took my breath away.

~> Heroine corrupted by a piece of  jewellery around her neck?

And there lay the grand, hereditary matrimonial bed, itself the size, almost, of my little room at home, with the gargoyles carved on its surfaces of ebony, vermilion lacquer, gold leaf; and its white gauze curtains, billowing in the sea breeze. Our bed. And surrounded by so many mirrors! Mirrors on all the walls, in stately frames of contorted gold, that reflected more white lilies than I'd ever seen in my life before.

~> Don’t forget girls, if he wants to fuck you on a huge bed in front of a mirror, he’s secretly evil.

I lay in bed alone. And I longed for him. And he disgusted me.

~> Alina’s feelings for Aleksander in a nutshell.

I could not take refuge in my bedroom, for that retained the memory of his presence trapped in the fathomless silvering of his mirrors. My music room seemed the safest place, although I looked at the picture of Saint Cecilia with a faint dread; what had been the nature of her martyrdom? My mind was in a tumult; schemes for flight jostled with one another ... as soon as the tide receded from the causeway, I would make for the mainland--on foot, running, stumbling; I did not trust that leather-clad chauffeur, nor the well-behaved housekeeper, and I dared not take any of the pale, ghostly maids into my confidence, either, since they were his creatures, all. Once at the village, I would fling myself directly on the mercy of the gendarmerie.

But--could I trust them, either? His forefathers had ruled this coast for eight centuries, from this castle whose moat was the Atlantic. Might not the police, the advocates, even the judge, all be in his service, turning a common blind eye to his vices since he was milord whose word must be obeyed? Who, on this distant coast, would believe the white-faced girl from Paris who came running to them with a shuddering tale of blood, of fear, of the ogre murmuring in the shadows? Or, rather, they would immediately know it to be true. But were all honour-bound to let me carry it no further.

~> Less chaste Winter Fete with no Baghra in sight. The monstrosity of her spouse is discovered by the heroine herself.

The door slowly, nervously opened and I saw, not the massive, irredeemable bulk of my husband but the slight, stooping figure of the piano-tuner, and he looked far more terrified of me than my mother's daughter would have been of the Devil himself. In the torture chamber, it seemed to me that I would never laugh again; now, helplessly, laugh I did, with relief, and, after a moment's hesitation, the boy's face softened and he smiled a little, almost in shame. Though they were blind, his eyes were singularly sweet.

~> Gods, I wish this was Malina. This girl’s better choice is shy, sweet, blind piano-tuner. She’s a pianist btw.

He took my hand; he pressed his arms about me. Although he was scarcely more than a boy, I felt a great strength flow into me from his touch.

~> Little comforts between the endgame couple.

'Oh, madame! I thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behaviour! Yet how could you know, a stranger, that the old name for this place is the Castle of Murder?'

How could I know, indeed? Except that, in my heart, I'd always known its lord would be the death of me.

~> “In my heart, I knew that Baghra was right.” The Darkling also has a reputation full of horrors.

I pulled the curtains close, stripped off my clothes and pulled the bedcurtains round me as a pungent aroma of Russian leather assured me my husband was once again beside me.

'Dearest!'

With the most treacherous, lascivious tenderness, he kissed my eyes, and, mimicking the new bride newly wakened, I flung my arms around him, for on my seeming acquiescence depended my salvation.

'Da Silva of Rio outwitted me,' he said wryly.' My New York agent telegraphed Le Havre and saved me a wasted journey. So we may resume our interrupted pleasures, my love.'

~> Good thing we have Baghra to save us from this. Shadow and Bone never even got to pleasures...

'Go and get them.'

'Now? This moment? Can't it wait until morning, my darling?'

I forced myself to be seductive. I saw myself, pale, pliant as a plant that begs to be trampled underfoot, a dozen vulnerable, appealing girls reflected in as many mirrors, and I saw how he almost failed to resist me. If he had come to me in bed, I would have strangled him, then.

But he half-snarled: 'No. It won't wait. Now.'

~> Unfortunatelly Alina lacks agency and could never openly use her sexuality as a weapon. Closest we get is when she uses the Darkling’s longing for company at the end of Siege and Storm, but that's very chaste, suicidal alternative.

The evidence of that bloody chamber had showed me I could expect no mercy. Yet, when he raised his head and stared at me with his blind, shuttered eyes as though he did not recognize me, I felt a terrified pity for him, for this man who lived in such strange, secret places that, if I loved him enough to follow him, I should have to die.

The atrocious loneliness of that monster!

~> The Darkling... do I need to explain?

'You do not deserve this,' he [the boy] said.

'Who can say what I deserve or no?' I said. 'I've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.'

'You disobeyed him,' he said. 'That is sufficient reason for him to punish you.'

~> The irony of Alina’s true sin being “I’ve done nothing.” and certain people claiming it’s disobedience... 

My lover [the boy] kissed me, he took my hand. He would come with me if I would lead him.

~> You are my nation, you are my flag..

On her eighteenth birthday, my mother had disposed of a man-eating tiger that had ravaged the villages in the hills north of Hanoi. Now, without a moment's hesitation, she raised my father's gun, took aim and put a single, irreproachable bullet through my husband's head.

We lead a quiet life, the three of us. I inherited, of course, enormous wealth but we have given most of it away to various charities. The castle is now a school for the blind, though I pray that the children who live there are not haunted by any sad ghosts looking for, crying for, the husband who will never return to the bloody chamber, the contents of which are buried or burned, the door sealed.

~> Once the monster’s slain, they life of charity and caring about others.

No paint nor powder, no matter how thick or white, can mask that red mark on my forehead [done by magical tainted key]; I am glad he cannot see it--not for fear of his revulsion, since I know he sees me clearly with his heart--but, because it spares my shame.

~> At the end of the trilogy, Alina remains physically untainted. Unlike the piano-tuner, Malyen had no problem feeling disgusted by Alina’s involvement with the Darkling, although the retcon tried to persuade us otherwise.

[dirtanddistance]

Squamish50 Race Recap: Fool Me Twice, Shame on Me

"Won't make my mama proud, it's gonna cause a scene // she sees her baby girl, I know she's gonna scream // GOOOOOOOODDDDD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! You're a Coast Mountain girl, and you run in the woods // oh mama, IIIIIIIIII'M JUST HAVIN' FUN, on the trail in my vest, it's where I belong, down on these // COAST MOUNTAIN TRAILS, I'm gonna keep on running on these COAST MOUNTAIN TRAILS, I'm gonna keep on running out in WEST CANADA, I'm gonna keep on running on these coast mountain trails, coast mountain trails"

Phew. Now that that's out of my system...

When I was growing up, the concept of 'peer pressure' never made much sense to me. I was not intrinsically tempted by drugs, or alcohol, or skipping class, or the social points that might have been gained by participating in such shenanigans. Outside of what that might say about me as a person, it led to an interesting revelation as I got older: my so-called peers back then just weren't doing anything interesting enough to make me feel compelled to join. All of this changed the moment I encountered my first overnight relay race in college. I was sold. Things would only escalate from there. My mama was not proud. There were actual fights over these endeavours. It culminated in me running my first ultra before I even had a bachelor's degree, setting my life in a direction no one predicts for their child.

It would come as no surprise to find me signed up for a 50 mile race eight years later in an entirely different country, if you had much of a background on ultrarunning. And after watching the 'vlog clip' my husband so charitably took of me at the finish line vowing that I would never do such a thing again, a seasoned member of the ultra community would have laughed and said 'see you next year'. Which is where our story begins, one year after the infamous 'never again' caught on film.

I did not feel an aching desire to run farther than 50 miles again, or even to do that particular event again. I had achieved my Gary Robbins hug and shiny medal, I had proven whatever it was that I needed to prove (see, dad? Not all ultras are just 'a few more miles than a marathon' AND I'm alive to prove it!). Cue, peer pressure. I wrote a silly little race report talking about how much I cried and a few of my friends read it and talked about it and were like 'that sounds great I'm in'. And if there's one thing I can't abide, it's my friends and peers going on an endurance adventure without me. A whopping three or four months had passed by the time it was sign-up day so there I was at 7am on a Friday before work on Run SignUp and the group WhatsApp open as we all digitally shared the high of registration day and collectively ignored the implications of signing up for a 50 mile race.

Fast forward to last weekend and we're all at the starting line hemming and hawing about how we didn't sleep so well last night, and we're scared, and 'just gonna go out there and have a good time'. My little brother was texting me, because unlike here in BC it was a godly hour of the day in Florida and he was at the ready to remind me that he had gone to a T-Pain concert the night before, and that T-Pain is a resource in times of need (?). This is salient because one time in high school, my cross country coach told us to do a particular warm of exercise with the kind of energy and enthusiasm we would have if we were rushing the stage at a T-Pain concert, so referring to Tallahassee Pain when I am going for a run will always resonate. Yes. The T stands for Tallahassee. Not Tylenol extra strength, which may also resonate during long runs. Anyway, I put all my worries away in a mansion somewhere in Wiscansin, we snapped a start line selfie, and off we went into the brief dark.

The first couple of miles slipped away as I kept up with a few much faster compatriots. I got Travis talking about his upcoming trip to Japan, which is a subject I can listen to/speak about endlessly. Alas, being the personality hire of the run group meant that I would fade to the back fairly early, and eventually we reached the first climb of the day, DeBeck's hill. This was where I broke last time. I was crying. This isn't even to the second aid station. Full blown tears, panic attack. I was determined not to break this year. I made everyone I knew very aware of my goal for this year: do not cry before aid station two. I'm very happy to announce I did achieve this goal, but was almost brought to ruin on the Midlife Crisis trail as I discovered TRAIL LORE. Trail lore is in fact the best part of not being a complete hermit during your race, which was my other, unspoken goal of the race - interact with fellow runners enough to become emotionally invested in the outcome of at least two other participants beyond just 'wow I hope everyone has a nice day'. The fellow behind me as I was hot stepping from rock to rock about to throw up and/or throw myself down the hill goes 'don't rush! I'm not trying to pressure you! Don't fall, my friend built this trail and he wouldn't want you to fall!' Right there we almost got the first cry of the day. Not because I was panicking or sad but because THAT WAS SUCH A NICE THING TO TELL ME! PEOPLE ARE LOVELY! I was then provided the added details that this friend designed that particular singletrack run when he turned 50 to prove he could still do hard things. Which, if true, is way more wholesome than my interpretation of the name Midlife Crisis, which was that the trail is so stressful that 31 is going to be my midlife with the years this trail is taking off my life span.

I rolled into aid station 2 at Alice Lake without a tear having been shed, and ready to hit the bathroom. I ran into a fellow trail homie from the run club at the bathroom line (so, like a regular club? Very brat.) and rolled on. I thought briefly 'wow, I wish my husband hadn't had a combination migraine-food-poisoning-slash-general-itis and thrown up last night making it very unlikely that he'd make it to the first crew aid station in time' but mostly I was proud of myself for not crying and it was time to carry on to my previously favorite section of the race.

Corners is the best trail ever because it's pretty and flowy and there are wildflowers everywhere and fun signs that say that you might get zapped by the powerlines overhead. It's also where the professional race photographer hides out and catches you when you're running at a decent clip with a pretty background. I was so confident going into these parts. Then I watched the gal ahead of me almost eat some dirt. Not too bad, she recovered quick. Couldn't be me. Except a few minutes later it was me, fully supermanned out on the ground, covered in the gritty sandy stuff and bleeding. I hopped back up and kept moving, knowing that sitting around evaluating myself would probably just make it all hurt more. Blood streamed down my leg, but it seemed nothing particularly important was hurting as I resumed my journey. Ah well, I thought, maybe this will just make my race pictures look more badass. Another familiar face caught up to me, which was quite a surprise because I do not have any idea how anyone I knew could possibly be behind me at this point in the race. It was nice to have someone to whine about my fall to, and who also admitted to having taken a little tumble himself. We rolled into Aid Station 3, and I declined having anything done about my bloody leg because, well, what was there to do? Fall on the ground or not, everyone is coated in layer upon layer of dust and sweat out here anyway. We trekked on to the little loop that would eventually lead back to AS 3 and slowly parted ways as I kept a conservative pace. Then it hit me - the ground again. This time, not only was the knee bleeding again but I got my left hand pretty good, with blood streaming across it from a few difficult to evaluate spots. At this point I was big sad. I let myself cry a little. My finger HURT where it was cut. I gimped along feeling sorry for myself until my brain generated the thought 'you're having an Eren Jaeger moment' while looking at the blood streak across my palm. I had the power of God AND anime on my side now. I dragged my sad little self back to the aid station when miracle of all miracles occurred. There was a familiar face with a volunteer vest on on. I don't think I'd ever been so happy to see someone in my life. Before I could say anything, I was pushed into a camping chair and another volunteer was swiping away at the blood and dirt with a paper towel and some saline spray. Not exactly how I would do it, but hey. It became obvious that while gnarly, these injuries were probably not life threatening and I was probably gonna make it. After a little bit of whinging and snacking and the affirmation of 'see you at the finish line' (this will come in handy later), I wandered back into the woods for the trek up Galactic.

Galactic is, like, the most fabled section of this race. If you look at any race report, or even the race description itself, this is described as kind of a piece de resistance. It's a hella long incline is all it is. You're in the woods, walking upwards, for longer than you would like to be. It's just inclined enough that an amateur like myself does absolutely zero running for like, half an hour straight. It's a drag. It's also not particularly 'hard' in the sense of being technical, or super steep. Last year, this was an unremarkable section of trail for me. I was feeling pretty okay having conquered last year's Most Wanted incline on DeBeck's and thought nothing of the trudge up the hill. And then my subconscious came out to play. Covered in blood and dirt and with like, half the race or more to go, the 'why are you doing this' crept in. Now, I also faced down this question last year, starting like 15k into the race, so not having to wrestle with it until several aid stations in is actually a good thing. However, I was out there with my little vest and my little philosophy minor degree ready to Conquer The Question of Purpose in Ultramarathoning, and the answers were not looking good for me. I was deconstructing with every footstep forward. Is there intrinsic value in pain? And if there is, what is it? Why am I out here alone? Time doesn't exist and I have no concept that it has probably been less than an hour since I spoke to a friend and would probably either find more friends or make more friends as the day wears on. I am alone in this forest, and I am going to cry about it. Like, ugly cry. Sobbing, gasping, this-character-is-being-hella-overacted crying. I want to quit RIGHT NOW. But I told Tam I'd see her at the finish line. And like, it'd look kinda lame if I DNF this for no good reason besides getting too sad. At this point, I determine that it's probably time to Eat Something, so I pull out the super dense gel sugary thing I picked up at the aid station to avoid eating my own carefully curated snacks. And what would you know, approximately 5 minutes after consuming 200 calories of pure maple syrup with added salt, the world suddenly seemed less bleak and finishing this race seemed like a less awful proposition. My new attitude and I finally rocked up to aid station 4.

Aid station 4 was uneventful until we heard over the radio 'first female has cleared Smoke Bluffs'. Oof. The aid station volunteers graciously reminded those of us who had just been confronted with our weak paces that those who are finishing now did not get to spend time having snacks at the aid station. I took off, and found myself chatting with a fellow from Squamish. It was his first ultra, with an eerily similar story to my decision to run this race the year before - the 50k sold out too fast and thought, 'eh, how bad could 50 miles be?'. Officially invested in my unknown friend's fate now, we eventually rolled up to Aid Station 5, which I refer to as the family tailgate aid station. At first, I looked about helplessly for my husband without the faintest clue whether or not he'd even gotten out of the house. I wandered over to the medical tent where the nice medic scraped the hell out of my knee using alcohol swabs. Honestly, this might have been the worst part of the whole day if not for what was in store between aid stations 5 and 6. Finally I caught site of my spouse and parked myself in the grass to eat a sandwich and whine some more while he recorded it as a 'vlog' to share with everyone else I know. He had in fact remembered to bring the Scandinavian Swimmers I had emphatically requested the day before, but I ended up forgetting about them moments after he told me he had them. I considered letting them squeeze the cold water sponges on me before I headed out, but thought better of it when I contemplated the water cleanliness and the oozing scrape that we decided against bandaging for the sole reason that no bandage was going to adhere to me at this point in the day.

I rolled out of the aid station around the same time as my new friend, and we continued on our little trek. At this point, my right knee was starting to do The Thing. Previously, only my left knee had been known to do The Thing. It's a sharp sharp pain on the outside, near the knee cap when I land on that side. Sharp enough to make you not want to land too hard because that leg might buckle from the pain. It wasn't so bad, and only every few steps, so I got by just fine walking more than I wanted. Until I didn't, and it hurt with every downhill step I was taking and I started crying again because THIS TRULY SUCKS. I didn't even do anything to that leg! I did not bring this upon myself except by maybe having been born with kinda messed up legs that turn inward instead of straight ahead but I DID NOTHING WRONG! I will add at this point, this section of the run (despite being reassured that all distances are as marked and completely correct) at least FEELS exceptionally long compared to how it's advertised. You think you're almost to AS 6 for a VERY long time. As I cried about the unfairness of life, I remembered I had put every kind of OTC medication one might even think about needing in my vest, so I popped a couple of ibuprofen and grumpily walked on. For some reason, despite being an entire doctor, I never believe that ibuprofen could fix MY problem. It is a solution for someone else. Fortunately for me, ibuprofen doesn't care about my skepticism and went to work, rendering my knee functional and capable of being run upon and allowing it to carry me to Aid Station 6.

Aid Station 6 is kind of a letdown. Not because it's not fully stocked and staffed by fantastic volunteers - it absolutely is. Every aid station is a 10/10. It's just wedged between two very exciting aid stations where you get your crew and there is generally a lot of activity and cheering. However, a familiar face again saved the day when I realized the ice water bucket manager was in fact another run club friend. This friend in particular I had pressured into running the Valley Vertikiller as a fairly new trail runner. I was not, in my current state, doing a great job of selling the idea that trail running is a fun and safe activity, but his enthusiasm and selfie taking renewed my spirits and made me believe that I could make it to the next aid station, which would in turn mean that I could make it to the finish line.

It was at this aid station that I started to chat with a couple of ladies; the conversation with an aid station attendant about the insanity of doing this race multiple times had come up, so naturally I was prepared to contribute to this conversation and inform them that I was, in fact, completely unhinged. As we rolled back into the woods, these ladies were talking in miles which was my second cue to start talking, because where there are miles there are, typically, fellow Americans. These lasses were from Colorado; when I mentioned I was originally from Florida but had moved out to BC, they, without skipping a beat, went, 'wow so a total upgrade'. Ahhhh, to be amongst my kind of people. This was not their first 50 miler, and had come all the way out here to run it. I passed my original compatriot somewhere during this phase, which flew by in good company as I pulled ahead and in to aid station 7. Aid station 7 has you run across a bridge and going downhill for a bit. I saw a few folks standing before the aid station on the sideline; I assumed it was just course marshals or someone taking down bib numbers for checkin. I spotted my husband with his Real Camera, and as my brain slowly processed the blonde girl cheering for me by name (as an Experienced Runner, I am now conscious of when I have my name printed on my race tag and no longer become completely frozen in horror when I hear my name called by enthusiastic strangers) as not just a random volunteer with a lot of energy, but my BC Bestie Elise! And then as I got to the aid station proper, I realized that I was in the presence of my husband, BC Bestie, AND my Aid Station 3 trail angel friend! As disoriented and overstimulated as I was by this, it was honestly magical, I almost cried, and I reluctantly accepted/delivered the most disgusting hugs I've ever been a part of. I was truly ready to tackle the final 8 miles now.

The last section of the race includes an additional unpleasant climb that kinda never ends, but did include an exceptional sunset. As much as it meant knowing I'd be rocking up to the finish line in the dark, the striking purple and orange on the horizon as I crested the false peak on my way up Mountain of Phlegm was first class. As we finally neared the stairs, I chatted with a woman who was here from Alberta to do the 50/50 (for those of you fortunate enough to not know what that is, it means running the 50 mile race on Saturday followed by the 50k race on Sunday). It rained just a little bit, and I wished her good traction and tacky surfaces for Sunday (and warned that if it rained too much that slippery might be a concern to monitor). When we reached the stairs, the course marshal eagerly assured us that we were done with the stairs! Which was quickly disproven upon reaching several smaller flights of stairs... sigh. After this betrayal, we eventually made our way out of Smoke Bluffs to the sight of a disco ball and Von Dutch blasting on a bluetooth speaker in the parking lot. Fortified by the power of brat summer imbued in that melody I took off onto the pavement princess section of the race. Several very, very enthusiastic high-five soliciting children ambushed me with their excitement and encouragement as I ran past the hostel I was staying at, onto the final stretch of road.

You might be thinking to yourself at this point, wow, she's run 50+ miles in the woods without encountering a single bear! What luck! And you'd be right, except then I encountered a bear. On the street. Walking down the opposite side of the road. This is an inconvenience, and I suppose I should have exercised better bear manners. I gave it the little bit of 'hey bear!' I could summon and basically hoped it would continue on its way down the street because nothing was going to delay me from reaching this finish line right now, not even this unbothered black bear. Fortunately, he or she seemed utterly unmoved by my antics and continued on down the street as though they were also a taxpaying member of the community and I barreled down the street and into the finish chute where I was immediately granted my second Squamish50 Gary Robbins hug and the attention of many friends who had to witness my (again) overstimulated and disoriented presence. After a finish line group photo, it was time to start recombobulating, relaying stories to Toby and Elise, and drinking an orange juice juice box like any good Floridian would.

While I haven't quite sorted out my running purpose deconstruction, being reminded that I was the reason someone else signed up for something challenging or ridiculous seems like a good enough proxy for now. I hopped on the results page as soon as it was up to ensure my Squamish and Colorado friends also made it across the finish line (yes, they did!). I only made it four days before I was talking about signing up for my next ultra (not alone... not ready to do that again), which may be a new record turnaround time.

I cannot sign off without reiterating how absolutely blessed and lucky and fortunate I felt to have so many familiar, happy faces out there on the course last Saturday. From my other pals running the race that I felt I couldn't be the only DNF of the crew, to the volunteers and friends that came out to cheer me on and my ever-attentive forever race crew member Toby, this race reminded me that no matter if you're racing or just out for a run, going fast or taking it easy, the real magic of running is the folks you meet along the way. Without this sport, I honestly don't think I would have had some of the most important relationships and experiences I've had in my life.

Tune in next time for my musings about my mid-race existential crisis and the ever elusive 'why do I run?'!

[atozfic]

hiiii i hope you’ve been well!! i noticed you said you’ve been writing a bit of siren if it’s not too much to ask can we get a spoiler/snippet from it? i’ve been excited for it ever since i read the synopsis

the spoiler is that the fic is actually a huge prank i've pulled on you all, that i have no intention of actually writing. happy (early) april fools ! here, have a very cringey snippet that i intend to rewrite before officially posting the fic.

warning: this is unedited and likely includes typos/cringe writing from nearly a year ago!!

“do you think its a mermaid?”

the question is met with a slap to the back of the dark haired man’s head, who proceeds to yelp and stare back at his crewmate, confusion and offense swirling in his eyes when he meets the other’s stare.

“shh, you idiot!” the pirate speaks in a hushed tone, through gritted teeth and a serious expression, his eyes still busy looking at the lump of fabric and flesh and hair tangled in a net that lays just at the beach shore. “it could be a siren! we can’t risk waking it up! captain'll kill us if we die.”

the sun has already began to set, alerting them of just how much time has passed since they arrived on the impish island. deserted of any human lives, the spec of land provided them with nothing but natural resources and a perfect spot to dump their unwanted cargo. which, in this very moment, is a sailor they’d caught on board their ship, hiding among barrels in an attempt to attack the beautiful vessel come night fall. what a shame the poor man forgot to counter in just what crew lived aboard such a ship, the young yet already feared group made up of no more and no less than eight men, who have garnered a plethora of names: the ocean’s assassins, the hell bringers, the pirate kings.

many stories have been passed around about the ominous crew, among drunkards in sketchy taverns and the gossiping wives of sailors. some true, some false, yet all painting them in a less than friendly light. their beginning alone is a tale fearsome enough to send shivers down the spine of any well-respected navy commander.

other than the boy who’d betrayed his own father and taken capture of the navy ship, along side the rest of the seven men, little is truly known about the pirate crew. sure, their faces have been seen, their mouths have been kissed by drunken fools, rounds of ale have been brought to them in many a taverns, but never have their names been spoke, never have they shared laughter with a stranger nor spared an inch of mercy for anyone outside of their crew of eight disasters.

thus, no one knows of the true nature of the pirates. and, if there’s anything mankind hates most, it’s the inability to understand, to gain knowledge of something, which is why the group is such a point of contention, an enigma many challenge themselves to solve.

some even going as far to sneak on board their ship.

“wait, do you even get sirens this time of the year?” another slap lands on the back of the man’s head, a slap which he this time returns to his friend in the form of a flick to his ear. “stop hitting me or i’ll tell yeosang it was you who drank the last of the rum!”

“i wouldn’t have to hit you if you didn’t say stupid things.” unbeknownst to the two men, their bickering is attracting the attention of another set of eyes, who watches them from a distance where tree branches still scrape his skin and the sand is yet to fully appear beneath his feet. “do you get sirens this time of the year?! seriously, san? what kind of question is that!”

“the kind of question you’re too dumb to answer!”

“oh, real mature!”

“your mum sure thinks so!”

“what does that even mean?!”

“i don’t know!”

the volume of the two pirates bickering increases to a point where neither of the stealth sea-assassins pick up on the approaching footsteps nor the slow laughter which companies them, the eyes that were watching them now much closer and much more aware of what exactly had prompted the daily argument between the two.

it’s as the one who calls himself san curls his hand around the hilt of his sword that the onlooker decides to step in, knowing yeosang would not appreciate having to waste more thread on stitching up yet another unnecessary wound, just like the crew’s captain would not enjoy having to repeat the same old scoldings the pair received almost at a daily rate.

“you’re both idiots.” perhaps not the best way to make his presence known, but it works either way, prompting both san and wooyoung’s head to snap in his direction, eyes wide in accusation and mouths dropped open in audacity. “you know that, right?”

“fuck off and go back to doing tall people stuff, yunho.” of course it’s wooyoung who speaks first, always the most catty on board the ship and never one to bite back a comment or think before he speaks.

“how are we both idiots?” san, more level-headed even while being prone to arguing, asks with more curiosity than offense, hand lazily thumbing over the bumps and ridges of his intricate sword handle. 

“because, you thought it was a mermaid,” yunho points in san’s direction, who proceeds to avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the look of his sand dusted boots to be the most intriguing thing in the world. the attention is quickly thrown to wooyoung as the tallest among the three point him out. “and you thought it was a siren. now, can you tell me what mermaids and sirens have in common?”

the pair keep quiet, san with red cheeks and wooyoung with a snarl, like he’s trying so hard to calculate his next snarky comment, all in the aim of shrugging off the shame of being called out on his own idiocy. 

“a tail. they both have tails.” when it doesn’t click in either of the two’s heads, yunho sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. brushing past them both, he nudges wooyoung’s shoulder as he cautiously approaches the lump of flesh and fabric, tangled in a web of nets and seaweed. “and that,” he points at the figure, entranced by the subtle yet visible rise and fall of the creature’s breathing. “very clearly has a pair of legs, not a tail.”

[inu-jiru]

HB Episode Thoughts...

Since I’ve made a few posts about Helluva Boss now, I figure I’d get my thoughts out now that I’ve seen the episode. Sorry if I echo points others have made, I’ve skimmed through the critical blogs after watching the episode to see if they caught things my goofy ass might’ve missed lol

When I initially watched the episode, I was kinda impressed because it wasn’t a pile of shit like Seeing Stars or The Circus, at least at first. I admit, I’m biased because I like Moxxie as a character, so I might be softer on this episode than I should, but make no mistake, this episode is goofy with a capital G.

First of all, and I know this is my fault for speculating because I give Vivzie way too much credit when it comes to episode plots, but I really thought there was going to be some kind of solo adventure with Moxxie and Chaz and it would be a more high stakes thing than “Hey Moxxie we’re gonna force you to marry someone even though ur married so you can inherit his money that we didn’t check to see if he actually had” (real trusting mafia btw smh). But again, that’s my fault, fool me once shame on you and all that shit.

Second, I’ve read Adam’s little Tweet about Moxxie’s MOM being from Wrath instead of Moxxie himself which is like, sure, whatever, but I just love how this has become a trend for the crew to have to write cliffnotes to make up for their fuck ups lol, like before the reveal of Crim’s mansion I was thinking, “Oh so maybe they just have a business in Greed right” but again that’s my fault for thinking too hard (and I didn’t watch the con videos entirely cuz I wanted to be surprised)

Third, one thing that I found odd was Blitzo’s casual nature about everything, like I know he’s just forgotten everything from the previous episodes but surely if he cares about Moxxie like he claims to, he’d be on the immediate offense like Millie, he’s got no qualms about taking people out so the episode could’ve been over just like that. AND SPEAKING OF-

Four, Millie being OP like that ruined any tension for me smh my head like girlpower gaslight gatekeep whatever but they could’ve killed the whole mob and left honestly, and yeah, it’s goofy that Millie can do all that but get taken down by a glass bottle. I bet some goofy bitch on Twitter is gonna say “Oh well time passed so she had more time to train” shut the fuck up and get out of my face with that shit

Fifth, this is probably goofy of me because I know animation takes a while and Vivzie kept replacing/overworking animators but part of me gets a vibe that Chaz was made purely to spite anyone who thinks Angel Dust and Stolas are too sexual. Then again, that would imply Vivzie doesn’t find that shit the funniest shit since sliced bread so probably not. He was so fucking annoying too, and his plot made no fucking sense because all someone needed to do was look in his fucking trunk and they’d see he was full of shit. Goofy.

Sixth, Crim, what the fuck was that plan? So like, is he low on money? Is that why ne needs Chaz to be married in? You know you could just make him an associate right? And on the topic of mob shit, why is Crim a mob leader and not, idk, in charge of a crew that answers to higher powers? I mean MAYBE that’s the case because of Mammon, but again, I shouldn’t really try to speculate because some completely out of left field shit might happen again. Is Crim Moxxie’s only blood family as well, like where the fuck are the other imps? Why is it only a dad and his kid (and MAYBE a mom) for all these families? I know it’s not important to the episode but there’s a reason why people say the show feels empty because there’s no one but the main cast and the antagonists.

Seventh, uh, idk, the animation was decent. I’ve seen talk about directing and camera work and Idk shit about that but I do know that episode 2 looked wonky as hell and this episode is an improvement, nothing too special except for that camera angle with Moxxie

Eight omg why couldn’t this episode’s ending be swapped with HMF? Why could Millie not take out the threat at her home and Moxxie not take out the threat at his??? Idk

Okay, I think that’s about it because I’ll be here all night, I’m done bi bi

[katcadecascade]

If you believe the lies I tell (Snowjanus fic Chapter Eight)

Ao3

Tumblr Chapter Index

Chapter Eight: Trust

Word Count: 2,968

With Clemensia carrying half his weight, they manage to get out of the school. She flags down one of the remaining chauffeurs and they practically dive into the back seat. They shout out the Corso address and the engine gets the car going. 

No more audience, it’s just them. Spearmint clashes against lavenders in such a tight space. Clemensia lets a hand go to at least open a window. It’s claustrophobic here, Coriolanus slides away to his side of the car, trying to catch his breath. 

Clemensia states bluntly, “You’re in heat.”

Coriolanus loses his usual grace. 

“I know!”

“Have you ever-“

“No!” He grips his hair, “I have never had a heat before!”

“Yeah, I can tell from how you’re freaking out!”

“Of course I’m freaking out!”

She reaches over, this time not for scenting but to check the temperature from his forehead. He knows he is warm, the problem is that Coriolanus has no idea if any of this is natural. Coriolanus has learned the basic textbook knowledge and the little his family has talked about, but that’s theory. Heats are a hypothetical that he refused to apply to himself until this very moment. 

“This isn’t something to panic over, Coriolanus.”

“Oh like you would know,” he snaps.

He doesn’t mean to lash out, it’s mainly his paranoia of the unknown that is frustrating him. Thankfully, Clemensia doesn’t appear too offended. 

“Hey it could be worse, you could’ve gone into a mating frenzy or baby fever for Sejanus.”

Now that has Coriolanus yelling out, “Fuck no!”

Intention, something like that can only happen if mating or wanting a child was at the forefront of his mind. The need for shelter and comfort is the typical purpose of heats. Coriolanus is so damn relieved that nothing that extreme was ever in mind regarding Sejanus Plinth. 

He still hates that his emotions latched onto the alpha. Even before the heat, Coriolanus knows that some part of him is stuck onto Sejanus but also Clemensia. 

Her presence is immensely important to his senses. This ever-growing flame continues to ignite his body, to seek her aid and comfort but Coriolanus is a stubborn fool.   

“I helped Lysie with her heats, I know how to help you too. Especially if you don’t have a nest prepared.”

“Oh no.”

Coriolanus knows how horribly unprepared he is. Not only about the mental and emotional tax of it all but the state of his house, his bedroom. It’s not a protective or possessive urge to keep his territory away from an outsider's eyes, it’s dread and shame. 

“Coriolanus?”

“No, you can’t.” His scent is all wrong, too sharp and overwhelming. A heat intensifies it all, weaponizing his anxiety to break out of his perfect mask. “No no no-”

“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s alright.” Clemensia pries one of his hands away from his disheveled hair. Smiling and linking their fingers together, she assures, “You still have time to build a nest before you’re in the thick of it. It’ll be alright.” 

She believes she’s saying the right words, and she is. It’s just that Coriolanus is the variable that makes everything wrong. 

“You can’t, Clemensia.” It’s a contrasting beg that can only be spilled by his lips, “I can’t let you help me.”

“What? No, Coriolanus, you shouldn’t spend your heat by yourself. It’s your first one, I won’t let you feel like you’re alone.”

“Clemensia,” the words are rough in his throat, declaring, “I’d rather be alone than let anyone in my home.”

Her concerned eyes look into his glaring, angry scowl. Coriolanus has always rejected her kindness, yet treated her as his friend. There was a tolerance, a barrier between his life at school and his home. Coriolanus continues to enforce that separation, even at the cost of Clemensia’s feelings. 

There’s something clicking behind her eyes. Clemensia is the smartest person Coriolanus knows. He hoped that she never analyzed him but she’s doing it now. 

Whatever conclusion she thought of has her surrendering, “...okay.”

On the logical side of things, everything is good. They’re enroute to the Snow’s penthouse, away from prying eyes and confusing scents. There may be enough time to swallow down scent blockers to aid his body, that is if the heat does not burn through the medications immediately. Also he could tamper down any nesting habits simply but not having any materials in the first place. 

Never before has Coriolanus been so happy at the thought of returning to his dilapidated home. 

The staircase leading up to the penthouse mocks him. 

“At least let me help you up.” 

Clemensia’s looking at the old double doors of a luxury he doesn’t have.  

“The elevator is broken.”

A weight of dread falls in his stomach as he watches the briefest expression of confusion to analyze to acceptance. 

“Alright, stairs it is.” 

They walk the twelve flights of stairs in silence, passing by abandoned rooms and decaying wallpaper. 

His home is a weakness, evidence of how the grand Snow name is falling. The worse case scenario was all of it getting exposed, of wolves and lions pouncing. 

Yet Clemensia keeps any comment to herself, reshaping the anxiety into a snake in the grass. 

When they’re at his door, Clemensia asks, “You have everything you need?”

“Yes,” he lied. 

From her frown alone, it’s clear that she knows he’s lying. 

Coriolanus wonders how many times Clemensia knows that he has lied straight to her face. 

Coriolanus slips past the door as fast as he could but he knows that Clemensia Dovecote has seen more than anyone else in the whole Captiol.

He thinks she said his name again behind the closed door. It could be his heart reaching for her, for more than he could ask for. 

His sweltering body lumbers to the kitchen cabinets. Without anyone, this needy ache demands to be soothed by the presence of those he trusts. Coriolanus knows that’s a fever dream. In practiced motions, Coriolanus reaches for the pill bottle and swallows down a bunch of scent blockers. 

Arachne’s bizarre claim of taking blockers like a hard drug is obtuse. Yes any medicine can be abused if someone tried hard enough but that’s just it. It’s an innate need for scents, no amount of blockers will make a person want to live in a scentless world. 

As less complicated as that world seems, it doesn’t tempt Coriolanus. He does see the good side of scenting.

Just maybe not in the throes of a heat he never thought to have. So Coriolaus tries to stall it with the pills. 

It’s only temporary, it won’t be enough. Coriolanus can tell from this heat still humming through his body. His scent is significantly less intense but it continues to fill the room. 

There’s still one major problem with this heat. It will consume his body of energy, a body that has not eaten a full meal in days. His bones are weighty, something his malnourished body cannot carry. 

He doesn’t have any food to survive this.

This is what he meant about heats being a waste of time and energy.

If Coriolanus doesn’t have enough energy or satisfy his nesting habits, he could potentially get fever heated. 

A true fever combined with heartache, all their stories told as tragedies. How poetic it is for this to be Coriolanus’ fate. 

“Coryo?” Grandma’am steps out of her room, steps light on the cold floor as she draws near. “What’s going on? You should be in school.”

Coriolanus gives an abbreviated summary of events on how his life was ruined in the mere moments before class began. A laugh almost slips at how pathetically fast it all fell apart. 

He expects her face to be shaped by horror or maybe disappointment, anything to match the uncomfortable feeling growing in his own skin. 

Instead she pats him on the back, rubbing big circles as she embraces him into a hug. 

“Oh, my boy, I didn’t prepare you for this did I?”

“Why would you?” Coriolanus shakes his head. “I don’t need any of this. I shouldn’t have entered a heat in the first place.”

“But you did, no changing that now. Come, walk me back to my room.” 

As her obedient grandson, he does. 

Grandma’am’s room is nearly as minimalistic as his except for a few framed photos, a songbook, and her clothes. It once overflowed the closet but now it barely takes up half of it. 

Her exquisite taste in gowns and overcoats had cost Grandma’am a lot of her most cherished memories but sold them nonetheless. Yet there were things that were deemed too precious to sell off. 

She gestures for him to grab something under her bed. Coriolanus tugs out a small, tightly wrapped bag. At Grandma’am insisting nod, he opens it. 

The air is knocked out of his chest when the scent of roses enters the dusty, cold air. 

Coriolanus whispers, “What is this?” 

“It’s your mother’s. Blankets she used for her nests back when… back when she needed them.”

It was preserved as best as it could be, wrapped with plastic. A total of three, all faintly emitting the scent of roses. The rose powder in the compact mirror is an artificial cosmetic, something that would add onto her scent. This precious cloth in her son’s trembling hands, it truly is her last remnant. 

There’s one blanket much, much smaller than the rest.

A baby blanket.

His baby blanket. 

Coriolanus cannot fathom how tiny he once was. How that small creature began to shape and be shaped by the world. There was no urge to control or perform, back then it was all about simply being in the space provided.

A sick feeling enters his stomach at the realization that this baby blanket would’ve been passed to his younger sibling.

Helena Snow and her stillborn daughter never got that chance. 

Their passing was truly the start of this family’s ruin. 

Wordlessly, Coriolanus gathers it into his arms. He doesn’t care that his scent flares out, burning through the blockers he had swallowed down. What matters is saving every piece of his scattered heart for a heat that he has never allowed before. 

“Your mother rejected every scent of your father. She only needed you.” 

“But why do I-” He bites his tongue before he could finish that question. Coriolanus holds the blankets close. “Thank you Grandma’am.” 

Whatever look he has on his face, it doesn’t convince his grandmother. Aside from Tigris, this woman also raised him. If Tigris encouraged kindness, Grandma’am encouraged gaining power. 

“Coryo, you can control every aspect of your life, of your body.” It’s the reassurement that he desperately needed, that this is within his control. But then she adds, “A heat amplifies what’s already inside.” 

His grandmother hands over one of her pillows. Scenting fades with age but it’s still there, the scent of honeysuckles. 

Coriolanus accepts it but argues, “Am I supposed to trust them? They were people I had to deceive, to make them believe I’m as powerful and wealthy as the rest. I never once trusted anyone I could call a friend.” He gestures to the decaying walls around, “Look at our home Grandma’am. It’s so pitifully easy to ruin me, to destroy us!” 

It’s rare for him to be angry with his Grandma’am. Manner’s aside, he doesn’t want to yell at her but it highlights his desperation. The true fear of having a weakness is being unable to protect it. 

Grandma’am has all the wisdom in the world to know that her grandson is hurting and scared. 

“I of all people know what betrayal feels like.” A haunted look tugs on her wrinkles, briefly lost in a memory. Her eyes return to his, the sadness remains, “I’ve taught you to expect it at every corner of the world. I’m sorry, Coryo. I gave you dreams of total control.” She quickly assures,  “And that is still possible. You just need to trust your instincts when faced against the unknown.” 

As nice as a prose that is, Coriolanus knows what his instincts demand.

It’s something he struggles to ask for. 

“I can’t accept their help. It would mean that… It would mean too many things about me.”

A vulnerable side of Coriolanus Snow was revealed today. Even before the heat hit, Coriolanus gave his scent to Clemensia. It soothed a part of him and later on, Sejanus was an emotional anchor. 

All of this means that Coriolanus is capable of trusting others. 

It could be so easy to just accept that as fact. 

But survival is worth more than truth. 

This calculating impulse kicks in when Grandma’am says offhandedly, “I’ll call Tigris.”

“No, don’t take her away from work.” She needs her job and any money that can come from it. An assistant’s paycheck rather than Tigris selling off her scent. “That’s more important.”

Grandma’am frowns, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “Nothing's more important than you.”

Coriolanus leans away, hoping his authority doesn’t sound like pleading, “Don’t call her. I’ll get something from her closet.”

Before he leaves her bedroom, Grandma’am imparts more words of wisdom.

“Heats clarify who you trust.” 

It’s a revelation that he doesn’t want to have. Yet once his consciousness learns it, it stays rooted in his skull. It flows into muscles as he grabs Tigris’ handmade, comfy robe and marches into his room. 

Coriolanus feels stupid doing all of this. Building a nest on his small bed. It’s so thin, nothing as lavish as what Arachne would brag about. She made a show of receiving tokens from her friends. 

All Coriolanus has are a few blankets and two pillows. He has the urge to tear it all apart but he could never do that to his family’s gifts. 

He tugs his uniform off, sweat uncomfortably clinging to the buttoned shirt. The thought of adding it to his nest never crosses his mind. Coriolanus does not seek comfort in his own scent. Donning a fraying sweater and loose pants, he feels more unnatural in his own body than ever before. 

Coriolanus knows how pale he is but one glance in his mother’s compact mirror reveals he looks as bad as he feels. 

Sweaty, too warm, a gut wrenching loneliness that is eating his stomach. The air is cold, smells like a pine forest in the dead of winter. Spearmint has always reminded Coriolanus of a blizzard. Polar opposite, not just the scent and the fever but also his needs and wants. 

Coriolanus has always relied on his fears, more accurately his assumptions that everyone in his life will go against his wishes. It stemmed from his need for control, to maintain the glamor that fools others. His need to be the top student, to claim the wealth his family so desperately needs. 

As for what he wants? 

Wants are another reason to have fears. 

It may be alarming how fast his brain connects those two things, believing it two sides of the same coin. Yet this is the paranoia that Coriolanus lives with. The most well fed thing in Coriolanus’ world. 

There’s a knock at the door.

It’s not Tigris, is his first thought. 

Coriolanus’ fears are confirmed when he opens the door to see a determined Clemensia Dovecote and a nervous Sejanus Plinth. 

His voice is dead flat, “Why?” 

“You know why,” she answers. 

Coriolanus almost forgets that the scent blockers are entirely out of his system because he can’t smell lavenders or nutmeg. They’re both containing their scents, letting only their words and pathetic frowns influence him. 

It won’t work, is what he believes. 

He glares at them, refusing to be trapped. 

All he needs to do is shut the door. That’s all it takes and they will give up on him. 

There are so many chances where Clemensia could stop reaching out to him. Sejanus alone has plenty of reasons to despise them all, Coriolanus’ constant brittle nature would give anyone whiplash. 

Yet they left school, climbed the creaking staircase, and are at his doorstep. 

It could be in their nature to want to help, a need to feel helpful. 

“I said I won’t let you spend your heat alone.”

Coriolanus points accusingly, “So you brought him?”

“Yes!” There’s anger in that exclamation, surprising Coriolanus. Clemensia glares at the boys, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two but I won’t let you get a fever heated.”

There’s a lie on the tip of his tongue, Coriolanus’s not sure what the words are but it’s definitely a denial. It dies when he meets Sejanus’ gaze. 

Just like back when it was them alone in the classroom, Coriolanus feels seen. Sejanus knows Coriolanus, not just the little insight of his starvation for food but his cravings for victory. The alpha proudly encouraged Coriolanus to be at the top. 

Yet this time it’s obvious that Sejanus doesn’t like what he sees. 

This brings a dreadful burn in Coriolanus’ gut. 

“Please,” Sejanus begs. “You don’t look well, Coriolanus.” 

Any fight response inside of Coriolanus continues to diminish in the warmth of those brown eyes. 

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing.” The words are croaked out, more broken than soft. It’s his voice but Coriolanus barely believes it. “I don’t know anything about this.”

Sejanus pleads again, “Then let us help.” 

Maybe life would be easier if Coriolanus made them give up on him, to leave him alone. 

Yet that’s just it, Coriolanus has always isolated himself from his peers. He knows what loneliness is, how starved he is of things that cannot be eaten.

Clemensia and Sejanus have fed him time, conversations that felt real, and the chance to stop acting like everything in his life is perfect. 

Coriolanus Snow lets them in.

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