#headers arctic monkeys
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poemsandsadness · 2 years ago
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staincastle · 1 year ago
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⠀⠀⠀ ★ rina's message is here! random headers
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vwitches · 3 months ago
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staincastle · 1 year ago
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⠀⠀⠀ ★ rina's message is here! minimalist headers
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molhoshouyo · 10 months ago
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ׂ 𓈒 ִ ۫ ○
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ🧸ㅤㅤ 𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖺 𝗅𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇̃𝖺𝗇𝖺,
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝗎𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗎́ ִֶָ
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grlsbian · 1 year ago
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ruelnaseok · 1 year ago
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ehpn · 1 year ago
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sweet venom
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lexinzspiders · 1 year ago
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⊹ › messy moodboard ‹🕷️𓂅
like or reblog.
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wendyzone · 2 years ago
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WANDJ icons & headers! like or reblog if you save/use. 🌙
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monibx · 2 years ago
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ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ📺 ◦ headers 1200x350 ── spirit fanfics :(:
ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠse usar dê reblog ou favorito !! créditos não obrig. ⩩🌑00
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jackleopard · 2 years ago
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I want to change my icon so much but I cant decide which photo suits me better
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airbendertendou · 8 months ago
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SOMETHING SOMBER TO MiSS! ♥︎ chishiya shuntaro
synopsis : three years after breaking up, your ex-boyfriend seems appalled by how you've changed, and the new company you keep.
recomended songs — exes, tate mccrae ; bibi vengance, bibi ; diablo, lexie liu ; 505, arctic monkeys
cw ; typical aib death nd gore ; reader is a physical fighter nd i wont apologize abt it ; the militants themselves lmao ; oblivious reader who holds everyones attention <3
TAGLIST : @chaotickyrith @valleyofheartz
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♧ ♡ if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. ♢ ♤
— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —
Oil fries in the pan as you flip the meat you're cooking, the side dishes already prepared and ready to eat. You hum with a nod, satisfied with the spread you've cooked — happy the recipes you read came in handy and turned out well.
The front door slides open and a smile falls onto your lips unconciously. You don't turn from the stove as you speak, "welcome home, Shuntaro!"
He grunts in response, kicking his shoes off and throwing his work bag to the side. Sliding up beside you, Chishiya eyes the food you cooked curiously, nodding his head the way you did earlier. You grin, "hard day? Did they let you work with patients today?"
"Still a student, technically," he responds. Chishiya grabs the cutlery you need, filling one cup with your drink and the other with his own. He grabs one of the dishes, absentmindedly setting it on the table. "Proabaly won't be around people for a while still."
You frown, following behind him. "That sucks. You're the smartest person in that building."
The left side of his lips quirk up, "thank you."
Hitting his arm lightly, you can't fight your own grin. "As if I needed to inflate your ego anymore."
The only sound is your eating — conversation with Chishiya never felt needed. You often found comfort in his silence ; found it easy to be in his presence. When your food is finished and you're washing the dishes, you notice him lingering in the doorway. You let him take his time — sometimes, your boyfriend simply needed a moment or two before his thoughts could escape his head.
But, he never spoke up. Chishiya simply stood there, staring at you and through you simultaneously. You blinked at him, hands still soapy, "everything okay, 'taro?"
“Let’s break up.”
You pause, a wobbly smile masking the strain in your throat. You face him fully, “what?”
“Let’s break up.” He doesn't meet your eyes as he speaks. He looks over your shoulder — looks to the pictures of you together throughout the two years you'd been dating.
“…why?” You wipe your hands dry, hoping to hide how they tremble. Chishiya eyes them through furrowed eyes — he noticed. You hide them helplessly anyways.
He shrugs passively, “I’m bored.”
“And nothing I say will change your mind?” It's now that he meets your gaze. It's dark — empty as he looks at you. Ice crawls into your chest, settling there as your breathing begins to get heavy. You nod slowly and look to the floor. “Okay. Let’s break up, Chishiya.”
You hope the sound of his last name burns him as much as it did you.
— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —
Music hits the pool area as you walk out, nodding to the beat you hear. Grinning at those you're familiar with, you perk up at your chosen group. The ones who brought you in when you were lonely.
"Ni—ra—gi!" you sing as you approach him. Sat on his lap is a girl with her bikini top slipping down slowly. Her lipstick is smeared and her cheeks flushed as her eyes widen at your voice. "Oh, am I interrupting?"
Niragi glares — he's really just hiding his laughter, "you always do. What do you want?"
You hum slyly, going behind the girl to settle her bathing suit correctly. Her breathing picks up and her hips twitch at your touch — Niragi hides his snort. "Have some newbies Hatter is welcoming. Wanna check 'em out?" You bend so that you're eye to eye with the stranger, "or keep having fun instead?"
With a squeak, the girl practically launches from Niragi's hold and skitters away. You blink owlishly, "was it something I said?"
Niragi's loud, boisterous laughter leaves a trail as you sneak into the secret meeting. Aguni eyes you before rolling his eyes discreelty and tuning back into what Hatter is saying. It's the same spiel you were given — this was a free paradise that only called for your loyalty. Loyalty being the cards you earned every game, of course.
If someone was going home, it was going to be Hatter first and foremost.
You eye the trio standing in the middle of the room, watching as the shorter male fidgets. He glances around — meets your gaze and gulps. He mutters to the girl he’s with, tugging on the end of his shirt.
Grinning, you lean close to Niragi and lower your voice to a whisper. “Traitor.”
“Them?” He raises an eyebrow, incredulous. “You really think?”
You put your hand out, “wanna bet?” Niragi clicks his tongue as you wiggle your fingers, insisting he shakes your hand. “Hm?”
He shoves your hand away, “never making a bet with you. Not again.”
As the meeting concludes, you grin widely.
Your name is called as Hatter beckons you forward. He leans on the desk in front of his card display, grinning as his top men join him. He gestures grandly, his arms open wide. "Liking your promotion?"
It's a silent nod to the gun strapped to your thigh — to the absence of a bathing suit. Aguni crosses his arms lightly, sticking his chin out. You grin — recently, it's starting to look more and more like Niragi's teasing smile than anything like yours. "It's fun enough."
Hatter laughs loudly at your words. He nods his head, "rumor has it you could beat any of my militants, anyways. Would rather have you on our side — on my side."
Niragi slings an arm around your shoulders as he hums in agreement. "Not a good idea to get on this one's bad side. I've seen it — scary shit."
Hatter cackles again as Mira eyes you now. She tilts her head a little, deciding to speak up. "Wonder where that temper of yours came from."
You simply grin again, closing your eyes with a sweet facade. "An old friend. That's all."
— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —
When he's recruited to the Beach, Chishiya isn't sure what to think. The man he was partnered with was lasered at the last second, leaving Chishiya in a remaining duo. The woman — Rei, she said — eyed him warily before nodding.
An unspoken rule of the Beach was the ability to bring more people in — more cards in.
It's a loud place, music booming and people cheering as if they aren't in danger. In the entry way of the hotel, there's a small crowd gathering, whooping and jeering. Chishiya unknowingly strays closer to the circle and away from his tour guide.
In the middle, a man with his hair half-up is laughing loudly. His arm is around someone else as they stand over the bleeding lump of a person on the floor. As he laughs, Chishiya can see the shine of a tongue ring gleaming in the lights. His arm is tapped and he's dragged back to the introduction of everyone.
For a second, though, Chishiya thought he caught a glance of you.
Hatter calls for a meeting, as he usually does to welcome newcomers. Niragi stands with his gun slung over his shoulder — Chishiya squints his eyes, thinking of how familiar he looks before his attention is taken.
A long, lanky figure begins to speak to Aguni. The only indication of the conversation is the raise of his eyebrows — he seems surprised by something. Aguni's lips part, as if he's going to speak, before he eyes Hatter and his mouth falls shut.
The door behind him opens and Chishiya feels cold. A shiver runs down his spine, trickling in line with the sweat that's built up. He keeps his eyes to the ground, as if he subconciuosly knows danger is around. A sharp, musical lilt of someone humming interupts the meeting in the room.
"The traitors," it can't be, "have been taken care of, your highness."
Stock-still and frigid Chishiya stands as you come into view. You look different — it's been three years — a wide, estranged grin on your face as you ignore the blood dripping down your face. Niragi saunters up to you, "the hell happened?"
"Had a knife," you let out an annoyed breath, sweeping at the cut above your eyebrow. "Not a very good one, though."
Hatter's laughter calls everyones attention back his way. His grin is just as wide as yours — just as corrupted and red. "Thank you, [Name]! For your sacrifice, the Beach will live another day."
You simply bow your head before standing with Aguni — the militants, Chishiya remembers.
Tilting his head, the blond secretly looks you over. You'd gotten toned — leg and arm muscles built and presenting themselves nicely in your shorts and shirt. You stood relaxed, surrounded by numerous weapons and threatening figures had no impact on you at all. Maybe you were part of that threatening crowd now — part of the fear that clung to the Beach.
Chishiya wondered if you'd noticed his differences as well — his longer, lighter hair and how he slouched more when he stood. He wondered if you'd even seen him in the first place.
Sharp, animalistic eyes catch his gaze. The lanky, tattooed figure watched him before saying something to the pierced one from before. Chishiya shot his eyes away before either had the chance to see him staring.
— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —
"Seem to have caught the newbies attention." Niragi speaks casually as you roam the hallways. He lets out a snort, rolling his eyes and head until he's looking at Last Boss.
Last Boss grins, "always do."
You curl your nose, swatting away the rifle Niragi holds on his shoulder — it'd bounced your way one too many times. "We had a newbie?"
Standing in disbelief, Last Boss pauses in the middle of the hallway. He looks Niragi's way, mouth parted in shock before he's slowly shaking his head. "[Name], you are..."
"Something," a feminine voice speaks up. The girl is with a crowd of three, her eyes trailing up and down your body slowly. She turns to wink your way as her friends scatter. "Something, truly!"
With a giggle, she's gone.
Before they can comment, a bell is tolled, signaling the time for games. Niragi lets out a huff, following behind as you wrap your arm in Last Boss'. A stranger allowed their attraction for you to overcome their fear for everyone else. You had to be magic.
— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —
You had to be magic.
It was a spade's game, to Chishiya's disinterest. He'd made an acquaintance — Kuina agreed on wanting to leave before Hatter, and had a history of combat. She would be useful in these games — except, they switched games at the last minute.
Chishiya couldn't have regretted it more.
You seemed to be the star of the show, everyone focused on you as your fellow militants grinned ferally. Poser — a four of spades where one player selected was not who they said they were. It should've been a hearts game, maybe diamond.
Said player could only be exposed by the color of their 'blood'.
Everyone was given a heavy, white t-shirt full of paint. Red meant you were human — blue meant you were an imposter. Chishiya gulps at the display in front of him. The red staining your skin wasn't just paint — he looked down apathetically at the two half-concious people who'd taken you on beforehand.
"You." A friend of yours is looking his way, at his pristine, unstained shirt. They tilt their head, "let us see your insides, hm?"
Letting out a huff, you swipe the sweat off of your forehead. Three others have joined you in your battle — think some of these people are actually dead. Standing straight, you see a newer militant cornering someone ahead. Shrugging, you saddle up beside them to help.
Your voice dies in your throat.
Dark, almost empty eyes meet yours and you hold back a gag. They shine sparsely, with disgust, maybe empathy and the smallest hint of regret. Your fist clenches around your trusty knife, praying to it that your voice won't break. "...Chishiya."
He almost jumps when he notices your attention on him. The stray militant has joined into the clump of fighters feet away — it's only the two of you once more. He lets out a breath, "[Name]..."
Your fist connects with his cheek before you can think. Chishiya stumbles back — doesn't have time to guard himself before you're nailing your fists into him once again. Your knees connect to the floor harshly as you go down, following his body as he collapses.
How dare he call you so casually? So lovingly? Your swing misses — Chishiya simply stares up at you. How dare he come into the world — this solace of sorts and destroy the walls you'd built? How dare he — three years later — still linger on your tongue and in your thoughts?
A choked, staggered sob leaves your lips as the voice overhead chimes.
"Game complete!"
Chishiya is still laying on the ground as you stand on wobbling legs. His eyes are half-lidded, hazy as he gazes at you, stock still. The red under his broken nose copies the red bleeding from his shirt. Not the traitor this time, at least.
You let out another sob before turning, grabbing the card and leaving the game.
— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —
a part two is already in the works! have to figure out a definite plot, is all <3 if you’d like to be tagged in this series or any other aib work, let me know!! ♥︎
airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.
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daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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hi, nikki :) congrats on 2k, my love 💕you deserve it and more! i’m just sending in a lil something for the milestone event: (i bet you look good on the dancefloor) by arctic monkeys — fluff/smut for reiner braun! thank you so much in advance, lovely! 🎀
I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor
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Pairing: Reiner Braun x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~4.7k
cw: modern-day au, college au, drinking (everyone is 21+), fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, pet names (sweetheart, baby)
Summary: You, a college senior who’s lived a mostly vanilla lifestyle the past four years, meet the alluring and mysterious Reiner at your friend’s birthday party. He’s different from you in many ways, but something about him captivates you like no other. When he invites you to an underground concert, you take a chance with him, craving for a taste of something different.
Author’s Notes: @pinkmirth Mira, my love! Thank you for participating in the y2k karaoke party! I appreciate you so so much and I hope I did your hubby justice with this one! I went a little over the word count that I originally thought I would, but I just couldn’t help it! I got too caught up in the setup, LOL, sorry! Special shoutout to @mobolanz for always posting amazing Reiner content that kept me motivated to finish this hehe.
Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest (although I’m fairly certain it’s from the manhwa 19 Days).
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It’s Annie’s 22nd birthday today; instead of going out to a club or bar, she decides she’d rather have a kickback with her closest friends, eating pizza and drinking cheap alcohol. Armin and Eren offer to host at their place, which is a twenty-minute walk from the university. As an RA for one of the freshman dorms on campus, it’s nice to get out every once in a while in the city that you so rarely have a chance to explore, even if it is just at someone else’s house. When you arrive, you recognize all of the people already there, other students you either personally know or have seen in passing. You greet Annie with a hug, handing her a small gift bag with a bottle of her favorite liquor. “Thank you!” she exclaims. “I’m so glad you were able to make it.”
“Me too! Though, I’ve got my work phone on me in case there are any emergencies,” you reply, pointing to the crossbody bag hanging on your shoulder. 
“Always so responsible. Such a good girl,” she teases, pinching your cheek. 
In your four years as a college student, you haven’t done anything outside of your comfort zone. You waited until you were officially legal to drink, and even now, you barely do it. Studies and extracurriculars always took priority over your social life, and while you have a solid group of friends, you haven’t done anything remotely wild. It’s not because you don’t have the desire to, there’s just never been a good opportunity. 
You spend the next half hour chatting with a few of the partygoers, sharing stories on certain professors, gossiping about other students, all while nursing a White Claw, sipping it slowly. It seems all of Annie’s friends are already here, so you don’t except anyone else to arrive. So, it surprises you when there’s a loud pounding on the door. Everyone glances towards it, curious at who it is. Annie answers, revealing two well-built men. One of them is incredibly tall that he has to duck down to enter through the doorway. The other is slightly shorter, though still impressive, with broad shoulders and a muscular physique. He has short blond hair, a trimmed goatee, sharp jawline, and an intimidating gaze. Something about his appearance is striking, and you’re immediately intrigued. 
You watch as they embrace the birthday girl, who punches them playfully in the shoulders. “Long time, no see, punks.”
“Sorry, Annie,” the taller one apologizes. “Classes have been a colossal pain lately.”
“And I’ve been busy at the shop,” the other adds. His voice is exactly what you imagine it would be like: gruff, husky. Sexy. Your interest piques even more, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this way about anyone, especially a complete stranger. When he removes his black leather jacket, your eyes widen at the reveal of his biceps, toned and sculpted like a marble statue. He’s wearing a fitted white tank with dark jeans, a chain hanging on the loop of his waistband with a small set of keys dangling. As if he couldn’t get any more attractive, here he is, flaunting his ripped body. You continue to watch him as he hangs his jacket on the coat rack by the door, inspecting the room while talking to Annie. “So, are these all college friends of yours?”
“Yup. You’re the only delinquents here,” she jokes, passing each of them a beer. 
“Shut up,” he laughs, twisting the cap off to take a swig. “Whose house is this anyways?”
She points to Armin and Eren, who sit on the couch, talking animatedly. “It’s theirs. They were nice enough to offer.”
“Cool. I guess I should go mingle, then. Unless you think these people will be scared of me.”
“Some of them could use some scaring, if you know what I mean,” she replies with a smirk. 
The two strangers make their way towards the hosts, shaking their hands to introduce themselves. You take this chance to approach your friend in the kitchen. “Annie, how do you know them?” 
“Bertolt and Reiner? Oh, they’re childhood friends of mine. We all grew up together in Marley.”
“Oh,” you nod. “Cool.”
She raises a brow at you. “Why? Are you interested?”
“No! I was just curious! I’ve never seen them around before.” Your voice is squeaky, and you’ve clearly given yourself away. 
She snickers, nudging you in the arm. “I can introduce you if you want. They’re a lot nicer than they look.” 
“No, I wouldn’t want to bother them – ”
“Reiner!” Annie calls out to the blond, and heat instantly surrounds your face. Too late to turn back, you stand up straight, watching the attractive man return to the kitchen, finished with his beer. “What’s up?”
“I want you to meet my friend.” Annie beckons you forward, stating your name. You smile at him, holding your arm out. 
He flashes a charming grin at you, enough to send a flutter in your belly. “I’m Reiner. Nice to meet you.” He shakes your hand, gripping you firmly. 
“I’m going to go socialize. You two get along, okay?” Annie departs quickly, leaving you and Reiner to get acquainted. 
“I heard that you’ve known Annie since she was a kid,” you start, attempting small talk. “What was she like back then?”
He leans on the refrigerator door, folding his arms across his chest, displaying his large chest. “She was a little shit, just like she is now,” he laughs. “She’s probably tamer since college though. We used to get into a bunch of fights together.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. She can really kick some ass if she wanted to.” He licks his lips before asking, “How do you know her?”
You try not to get distracted by the dirty thoughts swimming in your head right now, more and more attracted to him by the second. “We met in a class back in sophomore year, and we’ve been friends ever since. She’s really fun to be around.”
“And how about you?” His eyes bore into yours, and there’s an intensity in his gaze that you’re drawn by. “Are you fun to be around?”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Probably not. I’m pretty vanilla.”
“Vanilla is good.”
“Vanilla is safe,” you argue.
“It’s also sweet, creamy, and delicious.”
You giggle, already so smitten by him. “Are you telling me that I’m sweet, creamy, and delicious?”
“I guess I’ll have to find that out myself.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he speaks to you, and this could be wishful thinking, but a spark ignites between you. For the first time in your uneventful college life, you’re flirting with the outsides of your comfort zone, slowly gravitating towards this mysterious and alluring stranger. And it’s exciting.
You continue your conversation, exchanging little flirtations here and there, learning more about him. The friend he arrived with, Bertolt, currently goes to school in Marley, where they both live. Reiner is a mechanic at a car shop in his hometown of Liberio. He’s never attended college and doesn’t plan to, already set to inherit the shop when the owner retires.  On the weekends, he enjoys riding his motorbike around town and going out to underground concerts. You reveal to him how different your weekends are compared to his, considering you usually stay in.
“Have you ever been to an underground concert?” The two of you have moved into Annie’s room now, where it’s quieter and away from the rest of the party. It was your idea; you weren’t thinking about how it would look, asking him to move into a more intimate setting. He keeps a safe distance from you at the edge of the bed, the door ajar so that you can barely hear the chatter outside. 
“No, never,” you reply. “I used to listen to some alternative rock back in the day.”
“Really?” He seems surprised as he takes a sip out of his water cup. “Who?”
You hum, trying to remember. You name a few, then end with, “Oh! And the Arctic Monkeys!” 
When he starts singing the chorus to one of their songs, your face lights up, recognizing the familiar tune. “Yes! I love that one!” you beam, nodding along with him. 
There’s that endearing twinkle again, scooting closer to you. “You’re so cute.”
His comment catches you off guard, and just when you thought you were keeping your cool, your whole body starts to heat up, completely flustered at the sudden compliment. “What?”
“I said you’re so cute,” he repeats, unfazed. As if he didn’t just rock your world. 
You swallow loudly. “Thank you. You’re really…handsome.”
He bursts out laughing, maintaining his gaze on you. “Handsome. The last time I heard that was from my mom when I was a kid.” 
“Well, what else am I supposed to say?!” 
“Hey, I’ll take it. I’m more than happy with that.” He leans forward and you’re gravitating towards him, gradually closing the gap between you. You’re inches from his face, so close to kissing, when your phone rings loudly in your purse on the nightstand. It startles the both of you, taking you a second to realize that it’s your work phone, indicating some sort of RA emergency. 
One of your residents is begging to be let in after losing their keys somewhere. You tell them you’re on your way, giving Reiner a guilty glance. When you’re finished with the call, you explain the situation. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” he offers, standing up.
“I drove here, so I’m fine. But thank you.”
“Then I’ll walk you to your car.” You don’t have the heart to reject him once more, so you agree, delivering quick goodbyes to your friends and to Annie, who eyes you curiously as Reiner follows you out. He walks beside you with his hands in his pockets, not speaking. When you’re at the door, he utters your name. “I’d really like to see you again.” He looks nervous, all the confidence he exuded earlier reduced into a shy expression.
You smile at him, chest swelling. “I’d really like to see you too.”  
“Next weekend, there’s a concert I think you’d enjoy. It’s in Marley, but I can totally come here to pick you up and – ” 
Before he starts rambling, you interrupt him politely. “I don’t mind driving to you. It’s not that far.” You give him your phone; he enters his number as a new contact. You give him a quick call so that he has yours. It’s like you’re teenagers, awkwardly exchanging info, all giddy and timid. “Text me the details, okay?” 
“Yeah, I will.” He waits until you’re in the car, waving at you one last time before he shuts the door carefully. You glance at him through the rear-view mirror,  grinning as he watches you drive off, already wishing it was next weekend. 
~~~
Saturday finally arrives, the day you’ve been eagerly anticipating since the night you met Reiner. It’s unusual for you to be so enamored with someone you’ve only known for a week, worst of all, met once. You’ve been messaging non-stop since, even upgraded to a phone call last night that almost went until morning. And now, you’re pulling into a guest parking spot outside his apartment complex with an overnight bag hidden away in your trunk, just in case. 
You head up a flight of stairs, searching for his number on the row of doors until you find the correct one, knocking twice, heartbeat already quickening. He answers promptly, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt that accentuates his ripped build. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth to greet him casually, hoping he doesn’t notice you practically drooling for him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he mimics, smiling at you. “You ready to go?” 
You nod, surprised when he dangles two helmets, presenting one of them to you. “Are we taking your bike?”
“Yeah. That’s the only way I get around. Is that okay with you?”
You hesitate before responding, “Sure.”
He gives you a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. I promise.”
You learn soon enough that Reiner is a man of his word. With your arms around his waist, latched firmly to his abs, all you feel is exhilaration. He cruises through the streets of Marley, the night sky illuminated by the blur of city lights as you pass through downtown. The two of you don’t speak, the whoosh of wind rushing past your ears too deafening to hear anything but that and the engine. When he’s at a stop, he turns around to check on you, giving you a thumbs up, which you return enthusiastically. It also helps that he smells amazing: the subtle cologne on his clothes, the clean scent of his skin. Everything about him is attractive, and you can’t help but be drawn to him even more than you already were. 
He parks his bike in an alley next to a venue with a big marquee, spelling the name “Lakua”. Below it shows that a band called “The Warriors” are playing tonight. You hop off first, unbuckling your helmet and passing it to him. He knocks a specific rhythm on a nearby door, and suddenly, a girl with wavy, black hair answers, grabbing them from his hands. “Thanks Pieck,” he says. 
“Sure. Who’s you’re friend?” She examines you, smiling. 
He states your name, adding, “I met her at Annie’s party last week.”
“I see,” she muses. “Well, have fun tonight.” With that, she winks at you, then shuts the door. 
“We can go through the front,” he tells you, leading the way out of the alley and underneath the bright sign you saw earlier. There’s a bearded bouncer with wire-rimmed glasses at the front who acknowledges Reiner with a nod. “Evening, Reiner. IDs please.”
As you retrieve your licenses, Reiner slips him a wad of cash for admittance. “Hey Zeke. Did you hear them warm up?” 
“Yep.” He juts his chin towards you. “Porco and Marcel are in top form tonight. Your pretty friend here is in for a real treat.”
“Great, we’re going in now,” Reiner responds quickly, wrapping his arm around you to steer you through the door. There’s a bar on one side, stocked with the typical shelves of liquor and four bartenders serving those that crowd around them. On the opposite end is a stage, set up with instruments, speakers, and lights. There’s a horde gathered near the front, waiting for the main act to start. 
Reiner’s breath is warm on your ear when he says, “Follow me.” He holds your hand delicately, expertly maneuvering through the throng of concertgoers. He leads you past a curtained door towards the back, towards a closed room, knocking the same rhythm from earlier. It’s Pieck who answers, opening the door to usher you inside. “Hello again.” 
On the couch are two men who resemble each other. Another with light brown hair stands in front of the mirror, fixing his hair. When you and Reiner enter, they all look, happily yelling, “Reiner!”
He introduces you to the brothers, Porco and Marcel, the two who are seated. They both play guitar and do vocals, Porco being the lead. Colt, who gives you a friendly wave, is their drummer. Pieck, the bassist, formally introduces herself. Together, they are The Warriors. 
“We mostly do covers,” Marcel explains. “But we have some stuff in the works.”
“We tried to get Reiner to join, but he’s as tone-deaf as they come,” Porco teases, poking him in the arm.  
Reiner chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s true. I’m pretty awful.”
“But he’s really good at other things. I’m sure you know that already,” Marcel comments, smirking. 
Pieck shoves the guitarist’s arm. “Don’t be gross.” She redirects her attention to you. “Anyways, I hope you enjoy the show. Reiner’s been bugging us all week with requests. I have a hunch that you have something to do with it.” 
You smile at him, noticing a faint blush on his cheeks. “Requests?”
“You’ll see,” he replies, grinning. 
When it’s time for the band to perform, you make your way back to the dancefloor, more packed than it was when you first arrived. You manage to squeeze your way towards the front, Reiner huddled close behind you. Normally, you’d be claustrophobic, surrounded by all these hot, sweaty strangers. Reiner places his hands on your shoulders, leaning in to say, “I’m right here, okay? It might get a little rowdy, so if you want to leave, just tell me.”
You crane your neck to face him; he’s extremely close to you, enough that your noses are almost touching. It’s tempting to shift just the slightest bit forward and kiss him, but you resist the urge, already thrilled to be with him like this. 
The crowd hollers as The Warriors strut across the stage, waving. At the mic, Porco yells, “Y’all ready to have fun tonight?!” 
Louder applause erupts, and once Marcel starts a familiar guitar riff, it’s chaos in the best way possible. Soon, the bassline hits, then the drums, and your entire body thumps with each beat. It’s a song you recognize, and you’re impressed at how accurate they sound to the original while maintaining their own unique style. Marcel harmonizes perfectly with his brother, and together, their charisma on stage hypes everyone up. You bop your head to the melody, grinning ear-to-ear at how fun this is, the energy that surrounds you contagious. Reiner sways with you, grazing your back. You reach for his hand, brushing it with yours, turning to face him. “They’re so good!” you yell. 
The two of you continue to enjoy the concert, dancing in whichever way the rest of the crowd is moving. You notice halfway through the setlist that many of the songs they’re playing are from artists you listed for him the night you met. The realization really hits you when the iconic intro from the Arctic Monkeys song Reiner hummed for you starts, and you turn completely around with the biggest smile on your face. He beams at you, equally as thrilled, dancing erratically with your fingers entwined together, mouthing the lyrics at each other, completely in sync.
~~~
It's past midnight by the time you make it back to Reiner’s place. Your skin is sticky from sweat, eardrums heavy from the concert, and you really don’t want to go home. You’re unsure if Reiner feels the same way until he unlocks his front door, suggesting, “Do you want to sleep over?” He asks it casually, though there is a hint of hesitation. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I have enough stuff you can use. You can borrow my clothes.” 
You’re completely aware of the bag tucked away in your car right now, but the idea of wearing his clothes is too enticing, so you don’t mention it. 
While you shower in his bathroom, your curiosity gets the best of you. You inspect all the products he uses, sniffing the pleasant scent before lathering it on yourself, satisfied with smelling exactly like him. You brush your teeth in front of the foggy mirror, wrapped in a towel, wondering how tonight is going to end. Should you make the first move? Should you make any move at all? Even with the vibes totally there, you’re still uncertain if he reciprocates your feelings. There’s this titillating tension hanging in the air, but you’re too nervous to cut it, afraid of rejection, of misunderstanding. Maybe this is the furthest the two of you will go, so you take advantage of this moment, hugging yourself in his t-shirt and boxers he lent you, inhaling his essence until it’s ingrained in your memory. 
After you’re done, you walk out of the bathroom. He sits at the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. When he sees you, his eyes widen, scanning you up and down. “Wow.” It escapes out of his mouth abruptly, and he stammers, “Um, sorry. I’m…I’m going to shower now.” He gets up, avoiding your gaze, locking himself inside. 
Maybe this isn’t the furthest the two of you will go.
~~~
You sit up in the bed, resting against the headboard, waiting for him. After a few minutes, he walks out, waist wrapped in a towel, chest bared and dewy with water. He glances at you, looking away to search his drawer for a new shirt. The tension is palpable, even more so now than ever before. 
You clear your throat, wanting to break this unbearable silence. “Thank you again for letting me stay here.”
“Of course,” he mumbles, sliding a shirt over his head. He bends down to retrieve a pair of boxers on the lower shelf, slipping it underneath his towel. Dressed, he returns to the bathroom to hang his towel on the rack. You watch him carefully, so many thoughts racing in your head, the words on the tip of your tongue. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, staring at the carpet beneath his feet. “I’ll be on the couch if you need anything,” he murmurs, heading towards the door. 
“Reiner, wait.” 
He faces you, eager. “Yes?”
“Sleep here with me.” You pat the space next to you. “Don’t make me lonely tonight.”
He swallows thickly, taking long strides to get to you quick, crawling beside you. “Are you sure?”
You nod, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Absolutely sure.” 
Fingers laced around the nape of his neck, you pull him in for a kiss, his plush lips surrounding yours seamlessly. He kisses you with fervor, slipping into your mouth, tongue swirling around yours. You yank on his collar, stretching the fabric, imploring him to strip his top off, which his does in a fluid motion. Caged between his biceps, you lay beneath him, caressing his face while you smother him in your kisses. When you break free to catch your breath, he nuzzles his nose to yours, whispering, “I’ve been waiting all night to do this. All week, actually.”
“Yeah?” you coo, trailing down his neck, flushed with excitement. “So have I.”
“You’re so fucking sexy in my clothes,” he huffs, hooking the elastic of your boxers with his finger. “You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” 
You shake your head, and he smirks, sliding down the bed to position himself between your legs, tugging at your bottoms. You lift your hips up, wriggling out as he removes them off you, tossing it behind him. He stares at your pussy, throbbing and aching for his touch. Grabbing you behind the knees, he spreads you open, exposing your cunt. He doesn’t dawdle any longer, diving in to spread his tongue on your clit. You throw your head back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling, vision blurry from pleasure as he eats you out, determined to have his thirst quenched. He swallows every ounce of you, running his tongue along your slit and flicking it on your bud. And when your orgasm is so close to the peak, he puckers around you, sucking on your clit until it’s raw and swollen. You climax, squirming and whining, clenching the bedsheets, twisting it in your fists.
“Fuck,” he muffles, lapping at your cum as it spills out of your cunt. “Getting so messy for me.” His finger teases your entrance while he continues to flick his tongue on your sensitive bud. “Can you give me one more?” he coos, peering up at you with adoration, placing a wet smooch on the inside of your thigh. “Pretty please, sweetheart?” 
You have no choice but to oblige, sinking into the cushions once more, twitching with ecstasy as he strokes your pussy with your clit in his mouth. There’s nothing on your brain except for Reiner and all the different positions he can fuck you in. You come a second time with two of his digits inside you, pussy covered in spit and arousal. He chuckles, scattering kisses along your body until he’s face-to-face with you, rubbing his nose to yours affectionately. His stiff cock protrudes from his boxers, and you reach down to palm it, kissing his lips, glossy with your slick.
He moans, rutting into your hand. “You’re a fucking dream, you know that?”
You smile, pressing your forehead to his. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
He stretches his arm towards the nightstand, searching the top drawer to retrieve condoms and a bottle of lube. “Think you can take me?” he smirks, shoving his underwear down his legs, erection sprung against his chiseled abs. He’s bigger than you fantasized; your pussy throbs, yearning to be filled by his impressive cock. You nod dumbly, salivating for him. He scoots closer, removing his boxers, stroking himself rapidly, licking his lips. “I knew you would taste good. Sweet, creamy. Delicious.”
You giggle, remembering what he said to you a week ago. Spreading your thighs open, you caress your clit between your fingers, watching him pump his cock in his fist. “Fuck,” you moan, growing impatient. “Fuck me, Reiner. Hurry.”
Ripping the wrapper with his teeth, he rolls the condom on his cock, coating it with a generous amount of lube. “Okay, beautiful. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll give it to you so good.” He guides himself inside you, stretching your pussy until he bottoms out. “Fuck,” he drawls, nestling in comfortably. “So fucking hot.” 
You drape your arms over his shoulders, holding him limply, already spent from your previous orgasms, still so horny for him. He fucks you, legs coiled around his torso, gripping your waist, dragging your body towards him with each thrust. Saliva dribbles out the sides of your mouth, eyes half-closed in a dumb expression, blissfully fucked. He takes pleasure in seeing you unravel like this, clutching you tighter, increasing the pace. “Oh fuck, you’re amazing.” He holds you close, bucking his hips frantically, staring wildly at you beneath him. “I knew it the moment we met, then tonight at the concert. Knew you were special.”
You whimper his name, squeezing him tighter. “Reiner, right there, right there!”
“Yeah? Feels good?” he purrs, circling your clit with his thumb. “Then come on my cock, baby. Show me how much you love it.” He presses his groin to your pussy, burying himself deep inside you, ceasing his thrusts to focus on your approaching orgasm. Frothy spit drips from his mouth directly onto your bud, smearing it with his fingers. You convulse around him, ecstasy coursing through your body, electrifying every nerve all the way down to your toes. His name pours out of you in moans, skin sweltering against the sheets, dewy with sweat. You’re a sticky mess for him, overstimulated from your three consecutive orgasms. And yet, you’re desperate for more.
“Don’t stop,” you whine, reaching out to him weakly. “You’re amazing, Reiner.”
He takes your hand, holding it to his lips, kissing your fingertips lightly. “You take it so good. My beautiful, gorgeous girl.” 
You orgasm twice more in this position until he’s nearing his own. His jaw is clenched, brows furrowed tight, ready to lose it. “Tell me where you want it.”
You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “On me. Come on me, Rei. All over my clit and pussy.”
He groans, pulling out quickly to snap the condom off, pumping his cock in his fist. Within seconds, he’s nutting on you, shooting his seed onto your bud, watching it trickle down to your sopping cunt. “Fuck,” he moans, dick rigid in his grasp. He taps the tip on your drenched clit, relishing the lewd squelch it makes. “So fucking creamy for me.” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes, fixated on how his cum glazes your loins, and excitement bubbles in your core again, realizing that he has no intention of ending it here.
“Like what you see?” you goad him, dipping your fingers in his mess, stuffing it into your cunt. “I told you not to stop, didn’t I? So what are you waiting for?”
He leans over you, kissing you passionately, grinding his dick between your pussy lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got all the time in the world now.”
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1mlostnow · 7 months ago
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𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠!
Hello! I’m Evan and this is my intro post (the third one, I redo them a lot).
[spotify] [poetry insta] [wall of text] [tone tag list]
I’m a guy, I use he/him, and I’m queer :3
I am a minor!!! Anyone can interact but I’d prefer that if you’re 18+ you don’t do asks or DM me.
EvanRadio : @evan-radio - Tune in!! ★
Writing and poetry : @1mfoundnow
House MD ask blog (Stevie) : @head-of-forensics
House MD ask blog (Gabi) : @plastic-surgeon-gabi
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Some basic information ⇨
Blue text is primary information or things I’d like to bring attention to, highlighted headers refer to the entire section (ie : My Resume)
I absolutely love nicknames, you can call me Ev or something completely different.
Obviously no discrimination of any kind, cringe culture is dead and I’d love to learn more about anything you know about.
Please please please interact. Feel free to do asks do anons reply to my posts, anything really. For the most part I’d prefer if you didn’t DM me just because those situations tend to be uncomfortable for me, but if you really want to, go ahead
ALSO I don’t get out a lot and I love interacting with people :))
If you wanna read any of my writing/poetry, it’s posted on my IG which is the same as my tumblr :333
I love my mutuals to death and I mean it when I say you’re my friends ♡︎
I do appreciate it if you could use tone indicators with me, but you don’t have to!
Uhh some assorted facts -> mbti : intj-t, I’m a Leo (idk the sun and moon stuff), I’m from America, more specifically the Midwest (CDT time zone)
Typically online from 8AM-1AM CDT but this fluctuates and will change soon.
My Resume ⇨
★ CEO of Losers Inc.
★ Weird kid since day 1
★ I’m a professional ghostbuster
★ Supervillain (for the outfits)
★ Midwestern Cowboy (fun, not cop)
★ OG test subject (I was in a jar with sticks and leaves and a few holes in the lid)
EvanRadio Tunes ⇨
AJJ, Arctic Monkeys, boygenius, Bright Eyes, Bug Hunter, Cage The Elephant, Car Seat Headrest, Crywank, David Bowie, girl in red, Gorillaz, Green Day, Hospital Bracelet, ICP, Lemon Demon, Lord Huron, Los Campesinos!, Modern Baseball, MCR, Pat The Bunny, Radiohead, Rex Orange County, Ricky Montgomery, Tally Hall, Tame Impala, TFB, The Lumineers, The Neighborhood, The Smiths, The Velvet Underground, TV Girl, Vundabar, Weezer, Will Wood, Will Wood and The Tapeworms, Wingnut Dishwashers Union, and more.
A Guide To Tags ⇨
#evan speaks -> I am very chatty. I love to talk. One day I’ll drop the 50 random drafts // #evan rants -> I love to talk about things that upset me. This will often be politics but it varies // #evan draws -> my art!! I draw and do digital art // #evan writes -> self explanatory, I write some stuff. I post it on my ig too if you wanna see that, it’s the same as my tumblr // #evan can’t vote -> strictly for politics, I am a minor but i encourage everyone to vote if they can // #i love my mutuals -> I love my mutuals :3
Hobbies ⇨
★ I occasionally crochet
★ I love to read and write
★ I play the alto sax in marching band
★ I love art
★ Music <333
Shows and movies ⇨
Supernatural, Sherlock, House MD, Dead Poets Society, My Babysitters A Vampire, Ghostbusters, Velvet Goldmine, The Truman Show, Goonies, Stand By Me, Scooby Doo, Homestuck, Hannibal, Saw, Good Omens, IT 2017, Over The Garden Wall, and more.
Kinnie List ⇨
★ Sherlock Holmes -> Sherlock
★ Castiel -> Supernatural
★ Steven Meeks -> DPS
★ Richie Tozier -> IT 2017
★ Teddy Duchamp -> Stand By Me
★ Truman Burbank -> The Truman Show
★ Egon Spengler -> Ghostbusters
★ Rory Keaner -> MBAV
Primary Fandoms ⇨
Supernatural, DPS, Sherlock, Homestuck, House MD, Ghostbusters
Some other facts ⇨
- I love my car #TOMATER supremacy
- I like to do little drawings sometimes, especially of my mutuals
- Once again I love my mutuals so much
- Richard Cameron Defender for life
- I change my blog theme frequently
- I have adhd
- if u ever draw anything for me I’ll love u forever
- THE MAN WHO WOULD BE KING (6x20) IS THE BEST SPN EPISODE AND YOU CAN FIGHT ME ON IT
- I have a tendency to see notifs and forget to reply so if that happens just @ me, I promise I’m not ignoring you
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Drawings from ping!! ⇧
Drawings from me ⇩
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A note ⇨
Intro post will likely be edited often as well :))
Dead Poets Society ⇨
@pingunaa @ghostboyhood @wordssricochet @meekspeaks @lv3buzzz @yourfavvgal @poetsinnyc @apparitiongnostic @asclexe @lefthandedspaghetti @midwest-quill @notcatseatheadrest @wilsons-three-legged-siamese @de4d-poet-kisser @alightelixe
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.
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freefrallin · 4 months ago
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Liam Payne faleceu, mas eu não tenho mais 14 anos.
Gosto de chamar minha adolescência de “golden years” (anos de ouro), o que é completamente irônico, considerando que provavelmente foram os piores anos da minha vida. Eu era uma adolescente espinhenta, envergonhada e que não sabia lidar com o que parecia ser o pior cabelo cacheado do mundo. Mas, para escapar desse limbo patético que me definia, eu utilizava as “Besteiras de Adolescente”.
Besteira de adolescente era o que os adultos costumavam apontar e dizer: “Isso? Ah, isso é uma besteira de adolescente!”. Sempre acontecia quando um filme de Crepúsculo era lançado, um novo episódio de The Vampire Diaries ou Pretty Little Liars ia ao ar, ou quando uma revista Capricho chegava às bancas. De 2010 em diante, tanta coisa acontecia no mundo pop que era impossível não ter conteúdo para consumir. Miley Cyrus e Selena Gomez brigavam pelo Nick Jonas, a página “Eu Odeio Haters da Demi Lovato” tinha mais de 12 mil curtidas, e o One Direction acabara de lançar “Up All Night”, criando uma febre mundial e aumentando as vendas de intercâmbio para Londres. Álbuns de figurinhas do Rebelde Brasil eram comprados e nunca completados, e o Twitter era o reino dos fandoms, com suas bios, ícones, banners e headers (quanto tempo não escutava essas palavras) perfeitamente alinhados. Lorde apresentava Pure Heroine ao mundo, A Culpa é das Estrelas, Percy Jackson e Jogos Vorazes eram a trindade da leitura, e Taylor Swift começava a se destacar com seu novo álbum RED.
“Hey Brother”, do Avicii, e “Do I Wanna Know?”, do Arctic Monkeys, eram músicas obrigatórias em qualquer playlist. E só se viam dois estilos sendo usados: o grunge, com suas camisas de galáxia, saias prensadas e cropped preto, ou o swag, composto por um shorts jeans, Vans e um casaco xadrez amarrado na cintura. Um dia normal de uma adolescente consistia em assistir canais de youtubers em ascensão, pedir SDV no Instagram, criar templates no Tumblr, tentar recriar fotos de blogueiras e ler fanfics no Wattpad.
Y/N: Fiz um coque bagunçado e passei no Starbucks antes de ir para a aula. Ser adolescente era uma droga!
Eu me sentia como um constante saco de inseguranças ambulante. O que significa que, ao encontrar um clube de milhares de pessoas com interesses comuns, mesmo que muitas vezes distantes (famosos amigos online) era, no mínimo, um suspiro em meio a tanta pressão. Acredito que não existem palavras corretas para descrever como essa época foi marcante. Foi legal, bacana, emocionante, divertido e eletrizante; e o melhor de tudo, parecia eterno.
Mas, no dia 17 de outubro de 2024, um acontecimento nos lembrou que o nosso “eterno” chegou ao fim: o cantor e ex-integrante da boyband One Direction, Liam Payne, faleceu. E, com isso, uma geração de jovens adultas entrou em um luto coletivo pela perda de seu ídolo.
Enquanto navegava pelas minhas redes sociais, me deparei com uma legião de pessoas enfrentando a mesma confusão sentimental. Perguntas como “Por que estou tão triste?”, “Por que estou chorando tanto?”, “Por que dói e onde dói?” eram feitas.
As pessoas são rápidas em julgar a dor do outro, principalmente se não a compreendem. Não vou entrar no mérito do porquê essa dor deve ser respeitada; não é meu trabalho ensinar aos adultos que o luto não é algo exclusivo de familiares e que se manifesta de diferentes maneiras.
Para muito além da perda, me parecia que esse sentimento vinha atrelado a uma tomada de consciência coletiva da vida adulta. A verdade é que não percebemos quando nos tornamos adultos; simplesmente acontece. Aos poucos, aprendemos a comprar o alface correto, a marcar nossas próprias consultas médicas, a nos afastar de quem nos machuca e a mandar e-mails cobrando a equipe. Foi um processo natural; não precisamos fazer uma prova para ser adulto, nós simplesmente somos.
Então, quando, em uma quarta-feira típica da sua vida adulta, você é bombardeada pela notícia de que uma parte significativa da sua história partiu para sempre, a reação mais plausível é a melancolia. Não existe outra resposta correta para um tiro de nostalgia além dela.
Por isso, hoje eu digo: está tudo bem sentir essa perda. Só você sabe o quão doloroso foi marcar um encontro com sua versão de 14 anos para contar essa notícia.
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Para mais textos como esse, acesse: https://medium.com/@polianaluiza
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