#i will be glorifying weed in this

[missstar489]

everyone is always like "ohhh writing Smut is soooo haaaard" like come on it cant be that hard

....

Turns out that its hard to write smut when you cant even get to the part where they take their clothes off because the interpersonal drama between the characters and world they live in is too interesting to NOT spend 16 pages writing about sooooo maybe everyone is on to something here...

[drizzledrawings]

as someone who loves to write that last anon is just??? weird????? like i fully understand needing to do research and portray problems respectfully especially if you don't have personal experience with them, but have you ever heard of Creative Writing??? personal experience does help but you can still write something well without having experienced it and trying to restrict people to only writing about things They Have Experienced is so strange and limiting to me. what do they think leo tolstoy personally knew how it felt to be a russian aristocrat woman being scrutinized for an affair or that anthony doerr personally knows what it was like in france in the 1940s

Oh my lord THANK YOU!!

I’ve been surrounded by drug use my entire adolescence too?? And they’re acting like they know my life?! And you don’t need experience with subjects to talk and tell stories about them as long as you have researched!! Like exactly!!!

And genuinely just looking through my OWN instagram,, i have drawn my ocs smoking weed like twice in the past year

And the whole Alex as a vape lord thing is literally a bit now!! It’s FUNNY!!!! It’s their THING

I swear to god

[mothmansboyfriend]

wake and baking makes this website a better place. can you imagine the pandemonium if half of us hadn’t smoked ourselves into sedation.

Imagine how many classic tumblr scandals wouldn’t have happened if people had sacked up and smoked weed instead of making up lies and then suicide baiting people when they didn’t believe them 😭

[mothyca]

.

[echokelly]

I think the half poetry/half brain dump I wrote in my notes the morning after I took acid for the first time is one of my favourite poems I've ever written, and it was not intended to be that. I wrote it while I was walking home the next day, still tripping, and I just found it in my notes so here u go.

the night before the eve of moving out of my childhood home, I took a tiny piece of paper and ground it between my teeth, it was barely big enough to tear, the size of my bandmate's pupil, a speck in the floating sea of the summer night. later on that night, I'd say their pupils were massive, able to fit whole suns. or a tiny piece of paper.

two nights before I moved out of my childhood home, a tiny piece of my soul with ginger hair could not stop laughing at how my sandals squeaked when I walked and marveled at the colours in the water, and I wanted to touch the same stars and planets as they were.

I did. they tasted like ice-cold Pepsi from a bottle, chasing away the sweat that kept pooling in the crooks of my elbows.

two nights before I moved out of my childhood home, the world looked like someone reached a hand into my brain, and turned up the saturation levels. the lights of the hot tub had never been this dazzling. I can still picture it so clearly, teals and oranges. my friend smiled at me gently as the world lit up.

two nights before I moved out of my childhood home I was in a headrush, a kaleidoscope of muffled giggles and then my bandmate said "Look down".

"my feet don't look like feet anymore"

and two nights before I moved out of my childhood home I could not care less about what my feet were doing, they certainly weren't on earth anymore,

because the floor looked like it was breathing

and when I wiggled my toes, the carpet rippled out away from my feet like liquid sand, and the walls melted diagonally.

two nights before I moved out of my childhood home, I ignored all my better judgment and looked at myself in the mirror. they tell you not to, that it'll screw with you, send you into a bad trip. my friend led me in with them, and we stood in the bathroom together, holding hands, giggling uncontrollably. I think I looked beautiful. I also thought my eyes were way too big and my skin looked wrong, but none of that mattered.

they feel like a childhood friend though I've only known them a few years. I don't know how that happened. I'm glad it did.

two nights before I moved out of my childhood room, I had a private browser tab open on my phone to "What To Expect The First Time You Take LSD". I haven't needed to use a private browser in years, but a nagging voice in the back of my head tells me my mom will know if I don't.

I'm walking home now, from my friend's house. I chose to walk because I don't think my stomach can handle a car right now. the heat of the sun still doesn't feel quite right. neither does the fact that I'm moving out tomorrow. I think that's scarier than the trip I just went on. I think in still on it.

if you're ever in my shoes, don't overlook the insomnia part of that article.

[motivationalgregory]

How Weed is Bad for You

How Weed is Bad for You A lot of people think that weed is good for you, that is false. Lot of people think that weed is less harmful or better than cigarettes that is also false. I gets misconstrued because you have the powers that be that will promote it and you have stupid people that will follow it or promote it blindlessly. In this article I will tell you how weed affects you negatively and…

[sematarygirls]

🍃 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── getting high and making out with barry

   you huffed, making your way back to your bedroom as loud music pounded in your ears and practically shook the floor underneath your feet. you had tried to get your brother to turn it down at least a little, but he was drunk and probably high out of his mind—as he usually was when he threw these stupid parties—so your words had gotten you nowhere.

you should've known you wouldn't get a moment's peace when your parents announced their anniversary trip, leaving you and your brother in your big house on figure eight all alone for a week.

where your brother was always throwing or attending some big blowout, trying to impress his asshole friends and any girls that would look in his direction, you much preferred solitude. you liked spending your time in your room alone, bingewatching cheesy romcoms, gruesome horror movies, and any and all procedural dramas you could get your hands on.

even you could admit that it was a little pathetic, living life as a glorified recluse that had never even had her first kiss at the ripe age of eighteen, but sometimes, you preferred it that way. though, sometimes, when you were really getting into your own head, you found yourself lonely and craving adventure—not that you would ever go out and seek it.

"oh," a noise of surprise fell from your lips, your body reacting with a small jolt as you re-entered your room and saw a boy sporting a buzzcut, probably a few years older than you, smoking a joint on your bed.

The boy took a long drag, exhaling the smoke slowly as his deep brown eyes slowly raked over your figure, a smirk playing on his lips. "shiiiit, sorry," he laughed. "this your room?"

of course, it was just your luck that a handsome—and way totally stoned—boy would have stumbled into your bedroom during the five minutes you had abandoned it to go argue with your stupid brother.

"uh, yeah," you nodded, eyeing him warily as you hesitantly closed the door behind you to drown out the sounds of the party downstairs that had carried.

he hummed at your answer, nodding as he took another hit. "you mind if i hang out?" he asked casually, as if he wasn't a strange man in your bedroom, which you suddenly felt very uncomfortable in as you realized a man had never been in your room before. the room practically screamed lonely loser virgin with the way your stuffed animals were propped up on the pillows neatly.

"i guess not," you shrugged, your cheeks turning warm as you tore your eyes away from his piercing gaze, looking down at the fluffy pink carpet at your feet. you should have asked him to leave, but you didn't, instead allowing him to continue occupying your space.

he grinned, patting the space beside him on the bed. "come here," he beckoned, his voice low and smooth, almost hypnotic. "no need to be shy, princess. i don't bite...unless you're into that."

your teeth caught your lip, nibbling slightly as you considered his words. it probably wasn't the safest idea to sit next to a stranger on your bed with no one else around, but he seemed nice enough. either way, your body seemed to react before your brain could catch up and decide better of it, carrying you over to him and sitting on the edge of your bed beside him.

you looked over at him nervously, your fingers dancing over the stitching of your pink quilt, carefully plucking at it—a nasty habit you had that was slowly pulling the string out.

"you're so jumpy," he noted, his brown eyes following your movements with interest—his pupils dilated from the weed. "and quiet, like a little church mouse," he grinned, clearly teasing you as he took another drag and slowly blew the smoke into your direction. "you got a name, church mouse?"

you coughed a little, waving the smoke away as he blew it at you. his eyes bored into yours expectantly, willing you to give him an answer, and you did, quietly telling him your name.

he repeated your name slowly, letting it roll off his tongue, as if tasting it. "pretty name for a pretty girl," he said smoothly, his eyes never leaving yours as he shifted a bit closer, his thigh brushing against yours and making your breath hitch. "name's barry," he introduced himself.

you felt a little silly that something as small as eye contact and his leg brushing yours was having such a big effect on you, making your heart race in your chest as your eyes widened a fraction, but everything about this moment felt so surreal—like something straight out of those cheesy romcoms you loved so much.

he smirked, noticing your quickened breath and wide eyes, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. "relax, princess," he urged, offering the joint to you. "maybe some of this will help mellow your ass out."

"i don't smoke," you said, eyeing it warily. truthfully, you should've said 'i've never smoked' in the name of honesty. you'd be lying if you said you weren't atleast a little curious, but you'd always been too afraid.

"oh, come on," he coaxed, his tone softening as he held it out to you again. "just one hit. it'll help you chill out," he explained, seeming to know the exact right things to say as he patted your thigh comfortingly. "i promise it won't hurt you. i mean, it's not like i'm offering you meth or nothin'."

you bit the inside of your cheek nervously, contemplating his words. it wouldn't be so bad if you just did a little, right? besides, you couldn't live your whole life so sheltered and afraid. reluctantly, you reached out and took the joint between your fingers, your gaze darting apprehensively over to him.

"atta girl," he praised you, his voice low and encouraging as you guided the joint up to your lips. "inhale slowly," he instructed, his eyes locked onto your parted lips. you nodded, carefully placing it between your lips and sucking in. "hold it," he told you, licking his lips subconsciously as he watched you carefully. "there you go," he cooed, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he watched your brows furrow in your attempts to hold the smoke in your lungs.

your inexperience was apparent when you exhaled, breaking out into a coughing fit that had your cheeks blazing with embarrassment.

he chuckled softly, rubbing your back as you coughed. "it's alright, princess, you did good," he reassured you, taking the joint back and taking a long drag himself before exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around his face. "you'll get the hang of it."

"thanks," you said softly, your stomach feeling all fluttery at how nice the boy was. you grinned after a beat of silence, feeling a little less shy and a lot more happy as your body buzzed, clearly affected by the small amount of drugs you'd ingested—it was just your luck that you were a total lightweight.

"see? i told you you'd mellow out," he said with a soft laugh, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders as he pulled you in a little closer to him.

"uh huh," you giggled softly, looking up at him. your eyes widened a fraction as you realized just how close your faces suddenly were, his warm breath fanning over your face as he smirked down at you.

he licked his lips slowly as he gazed down at you, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. "you're pretty, you know that?" he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "real pretty."

"thanks," you breathed out, looking up at him. you'd never kissed anyone before, and in any other situation, the rational side of your brain would probably be screaming at you to pull away, but he was awfully pretty and the way he was staring at you had your heart skipping a beat.

"you gonna let me kiss you, princess?" he hummed, his gaze locked on your lips as his thumb gently pressed down on your bottom lip, making you part your lips slightly.

you stared up at him, as if you were in a trance. your mind was slightly foggy, and all you could focus on was his hands on your skin as you nodded. you really, really wanted him to kiss you.

his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and then, ever so slowly, he leaned in. his hand slid from your cheek down to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he angled your head back gently. your eyes fluttered closed as his lips brushed against yours, so soft and warm. you leaned into him, letting him set the pace and following his lead as your hand curled into the fabric of his t-shirt.

he kissed you slowly, savoring the taste of your lips. his other hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his tongue teased the seam of your lips, asking for entrance. you weren't quite sure what came over you, but you craved feeling more of him, tasting more of him, so you parted your lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth and slot against yours.

he groaned lowly as your tongue tentatively slid against his own, deepening the kiss. his hand on your back slipped under the hem of your top, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your lower back. you hummed into his mouth, grip on his shirt tightening as you tried pulling him impossibly closer. the feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin had your head spinning.

when he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard, and he smirked at your dazed expression. "we should stop," he murmured, his voice tight with barely-contained self control.

"right, yeah," you nodded, your body alight with desire, but as much as you wanted to, it probably wasn't in your best interest to lose your virginity to a man you'd just met. doing drugs and having your first kiss slash makeout session seemed like enough adventure for one day.

his heated gaze never left yours. "alright then," he said, his voice still rough. "we'll, uh, we'll finish this later, yeah?" he asked, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

you giggled at his phrasing, your stomach doing flips at the thought of seeing him again and the idea that he wanted to see you again too. "i'd like that," you smiled softly, nodding.

he grinned wolfishly, standing to his feet, your eyes following his movements closely as he headed to the door. "i'll see you around, princess," he winked, opening your bedroom door and allowing the sounds of the party going on downstairs—which had completely slipped your mind amidst everything that had just happened—to fill the room.

"yeah, see you around, barry," you nodded, your mind still reeling as you watched him leave and close the door behind him. a wide, stupid grin broke out on your face as you fell backwards on your bed, squealing excitedly to yourself.

[femsolid]

You know what I'm tired of seeing Snoop Dogg appear in memes and videos and movies and award shows like he's some endearing funny rapper who's cool and chill because he smokes tones of weed. He's a fucking rapist, a human trafficker and a misogynistic piece of shit.

"Snoop has an extensive criminal history, including convictions for drugs and weapons related offences and involuntary manslaughter, as well as by his own admission, pimping and trafficking women for sex. Snoop also reportedly lured two underage girls into exposing themselves on film by offering them marijuana and ecstasy.

Snoop’s lyrics glorify violence against women. He refers to women as ‘bitches’ and ‘hoes’ who ‘suck d****’. His songs include ‘Break a bitch ’til the day i die’ and ‘Can you control yo hoe? where he describes beating women who do not obey him, who need to learn their place."

Haha cute go fuck yourself

[kitten4sannie]

15 - ꜱɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ - ᴍɪɴɢɪ

ʜᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟᴅ

pairing: himbo bf! mingi x fem! reader feat. yunho, san, and seonghwa

genre: college/frat au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is really bad at taking hints.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use, weed mention, switch! mingi, switch! reader, mingi has a big dick, pet names, name calling, dirty talk, grinding, begging, unprotected sex (don’t be like them), bulge kink, exhibitionism, voyeurism, poor attempt at humor

a/n: love me a good himbo <3 this man is dumb in this just how i like themmm. also the song i imagine playing during the dance scene is “deep” by summer walker <3

FFF Masterlist

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You never particularly enjoyed the drink options at frat house parties. They only ever had giant kegs full of cheap beer, along with an endless supply of Tito’s vodka, swearing they had a life supply stocked up in the basement. When you asked Mingi’s friend Yunho where the soda was, all he did was shake his head and say in a slurred voice, “Coach said we gotta cut out sugar.” You genuinely wondered if he was trying to make a joke or if he was 100% serious, but the serious lack of anything chaser-related was making you think he wasn’t lying to you. It seemed like football players were fueled by countless liters of alcohol and protein powder alone. No wonder they were so aggressive on the field.

“Here,” Yunho said, handing you a solo cup filled to the brim with beer, his reddened eyes still friendly and bright. “My brother makes it himself.” You gave him a smile and a thanks, before scanning the crowd for Mingi. 

Once you found him, you took a few sips of the watered-down beer Yunho gave you, zoning in and out of the heated conversation your boyfriend was having with his friends about whether professional sports were rigged or not.

“Baby, can you please back me up?” Mingi asked in a whiny voice, snaking an arm around your waist, fingers squeezing you, his plump lips forming a pout. “Tell Seonghwa how stupid he is for thinking sports are fake.”

God, he was so fucking cute. You needed him. Needed to see him pout when he begged you to bounce on his dick. 

Taking a long swig of the glorified water, you cleared your throat, leaning your body against Mingi’s. “Seonghwa, I think it’s really bold of you to assume they’re all fake, and honestly, I think you might just be in denial since your teams never win.” 

The rest of Mingi’s drunk companions erupted in low ‘ooh’s’ and ‘damns’, some of them nodding their heads in agreement. San, who was already fucked up, made a show out of his reaction, smacking Seonghwa’s shoulder with his hand and pointing a finger at him, grinning at his friends. “He literally never bets on the right team. It’s so fucking funny.” 

Irritated, Seonghwa scoffed and rolled his eyes, taking a drink of his beer with one hand shoved into his pocket. “Where’d you find this one, Mingi?” 

“Don’t start.” Mingi clutched you against his side defensively, taking a sip from his drink. “Or else I’ll put hot chili oil in your jockstrap, like I did during your hazing.” 

That shut Seonghwa up, leading him to hold his hands up in defeat. Mingi idly stroked your hair while continuing his conversation with his friends, this time talking about their favorite plays from last night’s game. You went back to being bored, but this time your mind was swimming with thoughts of Mingi stroking your hair while his cock was down your throat. 

That was it. You needed to jump into action. However, you didn’t want to be too forward, not wanting to ask for Mingi’s cock in front of at least a quarter of the football team — though a part of you wanted them to know that he was about to pound you into oblivion. 

“Baby, I’m so cold,” you whined softly, looking up at Mingi with the cutest expression you could conjure up, rubbing your bare arms up and down. “Can you warm me up?” 

“Of course, doll.” Mingi let go of you and pulled his letterman jacket off, leaving him in a plain white, rather tight-fitting t-shirt. He put it over your shoulders, smiling at you. “Better?” As soon as you nodded and gave you a small smile back, he went back to talking to his buddies.

Damn. Too subtle. You weren’t about to give up, though. After staring into the distance for a while, idly sipping on your beer and still wishing you had access to a coke, you hatched another plan. Feeling ecstatic when a R&B song finally came on, knowing it would be easier to get into instead of the rap that was blasting out of the speakers a minute ago, you rubbed your hand up Mingi’s waist, lifting yourself up on your heels to murmur into his ear, “Baby, I want to dance. I really like this song.” 

Ignoring San’s begs for him to duel him in a game of beer pong, Mingi pressed a kiss to your temple, slipping his hand underneath his oversized jacket to touch the small of your back. “Let’s go then.” 

Maybe he was being subtle, too. How hot of him. “Yay~” You pulled his jacket off and walked over to Yunho, who was talking to someone else. You gave him the jacket, and in turn, he gave you a quick smile and put it over his shoulder to look after. 

Once the two of you were on the dance floor, which was just the oversized living room filled with drunken, sweaty people, you turned away from Mingi and pressed yourself into him, running your hands down your snug dress along to the tempo of the music. Mingi placed his hands instinctively on your swaying hips, moving along with you, leaning himself down to press his lips onto your jaw. Completely immersed in your own world, the bass thumping inside your ears, you began grinding on him in a more deliberate way, his heavy cock growing hard against your ass, making your brain feel fuzzy.

“Baby, they can see us, you know,” he mumbled under his breath, trying to pretend he couldn’t see Yunho waving at him from the kitchen and giving him a thumbs up. He definitely wouldn’t look at San, who was grabbing his imaginary tits and moaning obnoxiously loud. And he didn’t even notice Seonghwa staring at the both of you with contempt, even though there was a faint blush on his cheeks. 

You, however, noticed and acted accordingly. “Let them watch.” Placing your hands over his and guiding them up your body, you arched your back, squeezing your tits using his hands instead. Curious, you glanced over at the kitchen, finding Mingi’s friend's dumbstruck expressions to be particularly entertaining. That would give them something to talk about, instead of rambling about football for another hour. 

“Mmm…” Mingi buried his face in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, slowly brushing his fingers over your nipples through the thin material of your dress. 

Your plan finally worked, in the best way possible, more turned on knowing his friends were watching, but not being able to do more than that and having to live through Mingi when he explained all the different times you unraveled for him. He always made sure to leave out the countless times he did that, since he always ended up drooling and begging for you to make him cum with your tight cunt. 

It took one more roll of your boyfriend’s hips and a single tit squeeze for you to sigh, “Fuck, Mingi, you’re making me feel so hot…” 

Mingi suddenly ceased all movement as a loading screen appeared inside his mind. “You were cold just a second ago.” He tilted his head, idly rubbing your arms and feeling how warm they were, before bringing his lips to your ear, his voice laced with concern when he asked, “Yeah, you feel really hot. You’re not getting a fever, are you, doll?” His eyebrows rose with concern, his lips forming a pout once again. “You kissed me a bunch before practice earlier – and, oh my god, babe, you sucked my dick. That’s like, direct contact, right?” He gasped, clasping a hand to his face, his concern almost borderline comical, but the poor frat boy was completely serious. “Do you think I’ll get a fever too now? I can’t miss practice!”

“No, baby, that’s not…” You bit your lip, too desperate to have him inside you to get annoyed. Turning around, you ran your hands up his torso, from his abdomen to his pecs, suggesting gently, “You know, a good way to get rid of a fever is to sweat it out, Min. Come with me.” 

Once you led your boyfriend to the nearest empty bedroom, you shut the door and pushed him down onto the bed, licking your lips at the sight of him. Mingi was laying down on the mattress with his limbs spread out, his shirt just barely riding up past his hips, revealing his treasure trail. He observed his surroundings, taking note of the plushies sitting next to the pillows, before looking up at you with vague confusion. “This is San’s room. Why are we here?”

“Why do you think, baby?” you asked softly, kicking your heels off, prior to climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him, your body buzzing with anticipation. 

Mingi gave you a sweet smile, running his fingers through his soft brown hair, slowly leaning his head against the firm pillow behind his head. “You want to sleep?” 

“No, baby…” you started, straddling his lap and gazing down at him with love and lust in your hooded eyes, your hand settling on his broad chest. “I want to play…”

Mingi admired you, slowly running his hands from your thighs up to your waist, taking your words literally like he usually did. “Like Legos? I think Seonghwa has some in his room.” 

You couldn’t possibly get mad at Mingi, finding it adorable how incredibly dense he was. It was a good thing he had such a thick skull; it would definitely prevent him from getting any more head injuries whenever he collided with another player on the field. It was probably time to stop being coy and just tell him what you wanted point blank. No nuance. No hints. Just your raw desire. 

 “I want to ride your cock, Min. So bad. All night I’ve been thinking about you stretching me out,” you admitted, biting the tip of one of your fingers. Your thighs pressed into his hips, your core throbbing at the thought of impaling yourself on his oversized dick for the sake of being filled by your favorite football player. “Please, Min. I’ve been such a good girl.” 

The cogs moved inside Mingi’s head for a moment, then his eyes lit up, his lips forming a wide grin. “Is that why you were rubbing all over me back there? Why didn’t you just say that, baby? You know I’m bad at taking hints.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your dress off of yourself and tossing it onto the comforter, revealing you only had a small, lacy pair of panties on. “I should’ve just bent myself over the kitchen counter and asked you to fuck me dumb in front of your friends, huh? They’d like a little post game show, don’t you think?” 

Mingi groaned at the thought of railing you while his friends gave him pointers from the sidelines, growing hard underneath you. “You’re so hot, baby. So hot and so slutty for me.” He reached down to unbuckle his belt, popping it open, just for your greedy hands to do the rest of the work, eventually pulling his long, veiny cock out. 

Since you’ve been dripping pretty much the entire night, you were confident that you could take your boyfriend’s dick for a ride without needing lube. “You want me to bounce on your big cock, Min?” you asked sweetly, rubbing your soaked cunt back and forth across his dick, hearing him let out a small moan instead of a groaning sound. “Hm? Or do you want to fuck me senseless and make me cum all over your friend’s sheets?” 

“Please, ride my dick, baby…” he murmured, starting to whine from your change of pace, feeling your pussy slipping and sliding all over his sensitive spots, the tip beginning to leak pre-cum. “Pleaseeee, I need it so bad. I need it so fucking bad.” 

"Mmm, I suppose you've had enough, Min." You slid yourself to the tip and lifted it up just enough to begin pushing it inside, whimpering from being stretched out so intensely. Lowering yourself inch by inch, you ran your hands up underneath Mingi's shirt, lifting it up to see the defined softness of his pecs, grabbing and squeezing them.

Mingi arched his back slightly, biting and tugging at his lower lip when you finally bottomed out, the both of you moaning in unison. "Ride me, baby. Come on," he whined impatiently, running his hands over yours, guiding them down along his abs, enjoying the way your warm hands felt on his skin.

"Give me a minute," you replied in a strained voice, taking in a few deep breaths, waiting for the low burning sensation to subside.

Mingi lifted his hand up to press against your lower stomach, feeling the hard outline of his cock. "Baby's so full of me. You're such a good girl for taking my cock like this."

Something inside you switched, encouraging you to begin fucking yourself on his length, moaning, "Yeah, I'm a good girl...such a good girl for you, Min..."

"Yeah, you are," he exhaled, grabbing you by your hips and waiting for each moment you dropped yourself down to thrust himself into your tight hole, your breathy, high-pitched moans like music to his ears. "Fuck, I can feel you throbbing. It's so good, isn't it, doll?"

"So fucking good," you agreed, your lower half already starting to feel heavier, the feeling of getting pounded into by something so large and thick sending you into a state of bliss. "You're gonna make me cum soon..."

Suddenly, the door behind you swung open, and three distinct voices could be heard talking amongst themselves. "So, you're telling me your bong is in that mess on the floor?" Yunho questioned, pointing to the floor, trying to ignore what was going on in the middle of the room, the tips of his ears red and burning.

"Yeah, hold on." San walked into his room like it was just another day and stood near the two of you, giving Mingi a high five when he put his hand out. It must've been a regular occurrence with your boyfriend's previous partners. Personally, you were so dick-drunk, you didn't even care that San was studying the way your tits bounced along with your movements.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, sweetheart," San said, giving you a suggestive smile, before bending over to pick up a few articles of clothing and throwing them to the side, searching for his bong underneath the chaos.

Mingi continued to drill himself into you, his cock throbbing heavily inside you due to being watched by his friends, opting to grab both of your wrists and hold you down, not letting you escape, forcing you to take everything he was giving you. "Baby likes being watched, huh? Is Baby gonna cum from being a little attention whore?"

"Uh-huhhh..." You kept your eyes locked on his, making small whimpers each time he pounded into you, tears forming inside your eyes from having an audience.

"Goddamn..." San mumbled underneath his breath, already holding his bong inside his hand, but staying still, mesmerized by the way your ass routinely bounced when Mingi’s cock slammed inside of you. Seonghwa and Yunho were in similar situations, leaning on each other and watching the both of you with dilated eyes, wondering how the hell Mingi’s giant cock somehow fit inside your small frame without splitting you open.

"I'm...about to cum, doll." He caressed your cheek, wiping a few escaping tears, before glaring at San. "Get out of here, okay? I didn't mind you watching, but you're not about to see me nut."

Disappointed, San let out a long sigh, making eye contact with you when you glanced over at him with barely open eyes, your orgasm building up inside you at a rapid rate. "Maybe next time I can watch you two cum," he mused, only leaving the room with his friends when Mingi grabbed one of the plushies on the bed and tossed it at San's head.

Mingi, still holding your cheeks, pulled you down on top of him, slotting his lips onto yours, his hips still moving at a feverish, somewhat sloppy pace. "Cumming," he mumbled into your mouth, listening to your many muffled cries, slowly pumping his cum into your abused hole.

You melted against him, your body going completely lax, your cunt pulsing heavily, as your arousal poured out of you and dripped past Mingi's inner thighs, seeping into the comforter beneath. "So good...that was so good..." you slurred, even though you weren't drunk from the alcohol.

"I'm glad Baby likes getting dicked down so much," Mingi mused, his voice low and gravelly, reveling in the post-orgasm bliss, rubbing your back in circles. His hand suddenly went stiff, giving you a concerned look.

You pushed a few wet strands of hair behind your ear, tilting your head to the side. "What's wrong, Min?"

He gave you a small pout, his eyebrows drawn together. "My nose feels kind of stuffy.” 

✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖

FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© toxicccred, 2023.

[hayakawalove]

Intertwined (Chapter One)

Best Friends and Better Halves, Chapter 1

Summary: You were in 10th grade when you first met Eren Jaeger. Enticing eyes and a big mouth. There was no way you could know how important he would become to you.

As the tendrils of your youth fade away you find yourself confused. Your relationship with him grows more complicated throughout the years, taking you by surprise at every turn.

A story of love, lust, and addiction.

A/N: This has been in the works for 13 months. We're so excited to finally share it. My best friend @zeninsama who is also the coauthor, and I have spent countless hours talking and thinking about this story. They coauthored this with me and we worked really hard.

I do have some warnings. This story delves into addiction and how it affects relationships. This by no means means we are glorifying it, we are only exploring it. Their relationship will be complicated, but it's supposed to be. If you find yourself no longer interested in it that's perfectly fine. It won't hold back, it won't be pretty.

There will be lots of flashbacks in this fic. We debated for a long time on how to go about it, but I think we settled on a way. Flashbacks will be sprinkled throughout the fic and will always be separated with "~~~" before and after. There will also be the time period before so as to not confuse you. The past is very important to their relationship so it needs to be included. It won't be in every chapter, and some chapters will be purely flashbacks. We will use "///" to indicate transitions in a scene. The flashbacks for the most part will be in order.

We love this story, and hope you do too.

CW: Drug use, alcohol use, violence, fem reader, AFAB reader

W/C: 8,043

Banner credit: @benkeibear

~~~

-Summer before Senior year-

Warmth. 

He always did run hot. His lips meld to yours, whispers of cherry gracing your tastebuds. Rough hands you had long been accustomed to held your face, keeping you still and pliant just for him. Eren’s tongue slips free, gently dragging along your bottom lip. You felt as if you were floundering, desperately trying to keep up. He pulls away and you’re met with forest green staring back at you. 

“Was that any better?” He teases. 

~~~

-Current-

Eren Jaeger is a lot of things. 

Punctual is not one of them. 

It’s not the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last – but it was, however, the first time Eren had been late to a party he invited you to. You weren’t much for large gatherings, or gatherings of any size for that matter. You would’ve opted to stay home if Eren hadn’t practically begged you to come with him.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” He had said. 

Yeah, right. It reeks of booze and frat boys only have one volume – screaming their heads off. 

You sigh and push off from the countertop, not wanting to wait around any longer. If Eren was going to come he would’ve shown by now. Thanks a lot, Eren. 

You make it one step before an arm snakes around your shoulders. 

“Hey.” 

The scent of cheap beer is replaced by warm, woody cologne, cut with the pungent smell of weed. It’s so distinctly Eren Jaeger. 

He squeezes your shoulder in a half-hug. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

“Soon? I’ve been here for 30 minutes,” you grumble. 

Eren releases you from his hold and repositions himself in front of you, blocking you from the kitchen door. He’s dressed in all black, a worn brown leather jacket draped over his shoulders. Tucked behind his ear is a neatly rolled joint. It was a signature look for him. 

“Work ran late. Besides, I had a few deliveries to make.” 

“Deliveries? What, does the shop not pay you enough?” You tease. 

Eren’s mouth quirks in a smile as he pokes back, “I thought my best friend was supposed to support my passions. I’m a small business owner.” 

You roll your eyes, moving to pass Eren and finally be released from this hellhole, but his hand grips your wrist to pull you back. His touch is warm, grounding. 

“Heyheyhey, where do you think you’re going?” 

“Home? I’ve had enough of this place.” 

“But I just got here! Come on, just one drink and we can head out.” 

“Fine.” 

You allow Eren to drag you back into the kitchen and lean against the countertop for support, watching with your arms crossed over your chest while Eren fills a red plastic cup with a little bit of everything spread out before you. Vodka, wine cooler, some kind of fruit juice. 

“Gross, Eren!”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” 

He takes a swig from your cup before handing it to you (“making sure it’s safe”, he says) and you accept, brow raised in suspicion before following suit and taking a sip. Besides the initial bite from the vodka, it’s really not that bad. It just tastes like juice – albeit a dangerously intoxicating one that’ll have you regretting tonight even more in the morning. Eren always takes his drinks like this, opting to get loosened up faster and not really giving a shit about the contents. 

Against your better judgment, you take another sip.

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” 

“See? I’ve never steered you wrong. Ever. Not even once.” 

You snort into your cup and Eren raises his brows, feigning offense. 

“I haven’t! Name one time.” 

“The time Mrs. Steven busted us trying to buy beer with your shitty fake ID.” 

“That wasn’t that bad.” 

“My mom grounded me for a month!”

“We wouldn’t have seen each other if I didn’t have the best climbing skills in town.” 

You both laugh and shake your head, watching the party ahead of you with a smile on your face while Eren watches you with a smile on his. 

“Okay koala man.” 

“Koala man?”

“They’re good at climbing, right?” 

Eren’s drink helps ease your nerves, along with your burning need to leave this party. You might even say you’re starting to have fun now that Eren’s here. He tends to do that – make anything feel fun and lighthearted. He doesn’t take things as seriously as you do. This used to make you skeptical when you first met Eren in high school. He seemed like a bad influence, if not just a nuisance, but you had to admit he really was a good guy. He’s still a little shit though. 

“So, who do you even know here? I thought all your friends were in Paradise City.” 

“This is Reiner’s house. You’ve met him, right?” 

Reiner, Reiner, Reiner… You mull it over. Eren has a lot of “friends”, so it’s hard to remember all of them by name. He’s always been so charismatic. 

“Blond? Muscles?”

“Bingo.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s nice.”

You throw his name around several times in your head. You hadn’t had many interactions with Reiner, but everytime you did speak with him he seemed nice. To be honest, you weren’t really sure what he and Eren had in common. Reiner was a jock through and through - even played for the football team. Eren on the other hand… Well, he was Eren. Your Eren nonetheless.

Your lips press against the plastic cup as you take another sip of Eren’s concoction, feeling a buzz start to come on already. Your senses feel dull as your eyelids slowly get heavier and heavier.

“Hitting you harder than I thought it would, damn you’re a lightweight.” Eren chuckles, tossing back his drink like it was nothing.

You click your tongue at him and roll your eyes. Maybe he had a point. It wasn’t your fault. Not everyone drank and partied it up in highschool like he did. You dread the day a doctor gets a look at his liver - or even worse, his lungs.

“Finish your drink then we can head out if you still want?” He offers, tossing his cup in the overflowing bin beside you.

You nod and swish your drink around in front of you, there was still half the cup left. Eren lets out a chuckle.

Eren hops off the counter. “I’m gonna go light up, you coming with?”

“I think I’m good.” 

He plucks the joint from behind his ear and heads towards the patio. “Suit yourself. At least try to make some friends while I’m gone. The thought of you being all depressed without me is gonna ruin my high.” 

“Yeah, bye, Eren,” you wave him off, a smile spreading across your face. 

You notice your body feels much more relaxed now than it did initially. Eren has a funny way of doing that to you. Most of the time, you’re polar opposites – you being high strung while Eren hardly took anything serious. You balance each other out. 

A light buzz reaches your head, heat creeping up your neck and ears. Eren really knew how to make an effective drink. Even the music sounds better, no longer blaring and rattling the house but mellowing into the background with a low rhythm and bass you could feel thumping in your chest.

~~~

-Fall of Sophomore year- 

“Everyone, we have a new student joining our class. Go ahead and introduce yourself, sweetheart.” 

“Eren Jaeger,” the new kid speaks, expression and tone heavy with boredom. His hair is brown and slightly overgrown, sitting just under his ears. “I transferred from Maria Reformatory. Go Titans.” 

Finally, something different. 

“Nice to have you, Eren!” The teacher welcomes. 

His eyes meet yours. They’re beautiful – a vibrant shade of emerald green you’ve never seen before. Only on movie stars, or models, same thing. You straighten in your seat, feeling perceived. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” One of the girls blurts out, causing the class to erupt in laughter.

You return your attention to the assignment in front of you, silently groaning. The teacher attempts to quell the chaos while directing Eren down the aisle, towards the empty seat conveniently located beside you. 

You intentionally picked this seat because you wanted to be away from everyone else. 

“Hey,” Eren introduces himself, tossing his backpack under his desk and digging for a pencil in the front pouch. “What’s your name?” 

You grumble your name, eyes not leaving the worksheet. 

“I’m Eren.” 

“Yeah, I heard the introduction.” 

“Wow. Okay, attitude.” 

Eren slouches in his seat, his too-long legs extending beyond his desk, like a newborn giraffe. 

Focusing is hard when you feel his eyes bore holes into your side, analyzing you. It felt like a bug crawling up your neck, almost making you shiver at the weight of his gaze. You opt to ignore him, do what you’ve always done and keep your head down. You don’t need friends, they’re disruptive. Not like anyone here gets you anyways. 

Eren, however, had no intention of leaving you alone. 

“How do you like the school?” 

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it before.”

“You can’t tell if you like it or not?” 

“I’m trying to focus,” you admit, slightly exasperated. 

“Didn’t know there was a rush.” 

Eren turns forward, brows raised in amusement. You were quick to bite and maybe not the most friendly, but it only piqued his curiosity. 

You watch Eren adjust in your peripheral vision, like he’s just now realizing there’s nothing on his desk. Your finger taps anxiously on your own table. 

“Hey teacher, I don’t have one of those,” Eren points out, referring to your textbook. 

“You’ll get one soon,” the teacher interjects. Don’t say it, please don’t say it… 

Your heart sinks when she says your name. 

“You don’t mind sharing, right?” 

Your finger stills. 

“No, ma’am.” 

Eren smirks and scoots his desk closer to yours, metal legs scraping against the floor until the edges touch. The scent of Old Spice body spray wafts over into your space, with something skunky underneath that explains his red and lazy eyes. 

“This works out great!” Your teacher exclaims, eyes meeting yours. “Now that Eren has joined us, you’ll have a partner for the semester project!” 

The words on the book in front of you sear into your brain. Fuck.

You don’t need to look at Eren to see the expression on his face. Well, at least he was enjoying this. 

“Eren, you’re in luck. Your partner is the head of the class, I’m sure she’ll take great care of you.”

“Is that so?” Eren grins, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Are you gonna take care of me, partner?” 

Normally, praise for your academic achievements feels great. The circumstances were different in this case. You were certain Eren was going to slack off, let you do all the work and stamp his name on the finished result and take your credit.

You’d prefer that, anyways. Keep your head down. Do your best work. Just get through it.

///

You’re on your way out when a familiar voice calls out your name. 

“Hey! Wait up!” 

Naturally, you speed up. 

Eren matches your pace, walking beside you towards the front gate on campus. 

“Jeez, for someone kinda short, you walk fast.” 

You sigh in defeat. “Why are you following me?” 

“Well, we have that end of semester project, right? When should we go over it?” 

“It’s fine, Eren. I can do it and you can sign your name when I’m done. That’s what I was planning on, anyway.”

The brunet grabs your wrist, bringing you to a stop. Heat floods your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears. Who was he to just grab you like that? You turn around, ready to give him an earful, but the expression on his face makes you pause. It wasn’t anger, but something closer to determination. 

“I’m not gonna make you do it alone. What kinda guy do you take me for? Let’s just exchange contact info and we can plan something.” 

You wanted to argue back but you couldn’t find the words. Being around Eren steals the words right from you. 

“Fine,” you grumble, fishing around in your bag for something to write your number on – a convenience store receipt – and a pen to write it with. You print your number on the back and hand it to Eren, who studies the receipt curiously. 

He laughs from his chest. “Damn, how many bags of gummy worms do you need?”  

You groan.

“None of your business.” 

“I’m much more of a gummy bear fan myself. It’s a texture thing, and I like that they’re bite size.”

“Good for you.” 

Eren smiles and stuffs the receipt into his pocket, finally releasing his grasp on your arm and starting on past you. “We’ll be in touch, partner!” 

////

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: Hey, it’s Eren Jaeger. 

You tap out a quick answer. 

You: When do you wanna talk about the project? 

Inviting Eren home wasn’t the best idea. Your parents were strict, and besides, you just met the guy. You weren’t exactly ready to invite him into your home, and who knew what would await you at his? Maybe you could set up at a park somewhere. 

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: You hungry? I’m feeling like a burger.  

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: Sent location.

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: It’s not too far. Meet here?

You: That works. 

You remind yourself to text your parents about your plans. It shouldn’t be a problem seeing as it’s for school. 

COULD BE: EREN JAEGER: It’s a date.

You: It’s a study session. 

The walk wasn’t inconvenient – skip your usual turn, walk another block north, apologize a dozen times to the cars you weave through in the parking lot. When you arrive, you notice Eren already seated with a tray of food in front of him, a fry dangling from his mouth and gaze fixed on his lap. 

You help yourself into the booth across from him.

“You got here fast.” 

His lips twitch up in a smirk as he chows down on the fry. 

“Or you got here slow, shortstack.” 

“Let’s not make that a thing.” 

Eren gestures towards his food, silently offering it to you, but you shake your head. 

“So what do you want to do the project on?” He asks through a mouthful of fried potato mush. 

“Well I was planning on making a heart monitor. They’re pretty easy to make if you just do a cheap one. Then I was going to write a report alongside it explaining what it is and how it works.” You explain, feeling your shoulders begin to relax. 

You had already gotten started on the project so you were praying he wouldn’t want to pick something else. He listens intently while you explain to him how exactly it worked and what was needed still. 

“Sounds cool.” 

Eren picks off the rest of his food while you walk through the project together, pulling your notes from your backpack and explaining everything you had done so far, including a diagram you were rather proud of. 

Conversation lulls into a comfortable silence. You don’t realize your pen is missing until you notice Eren absentmindedly doodling on an unused napkin. 

“What school did you go to?” 

“Okay, Miss ‘I heard the introduction’,” Eren teases. “Uh, Maria Reformatory.” 

Your brow quirks. His expression remains concentrated on his masterpiece, bangs falling in front of his eyes while he gnaws at the straw in his empty drink. 

“Reformatory? What did you do?”

Green eyes flick up to yours momentarily before looking back down. For a moment, you kick yourself. Maybe it’s a touchy subject, don’t be nosy. 

Eren doesn’t seem bothered. 

“I wasn’t a good student. It’s nothing much, just got into fights, drank and smoked. Teenager stuff, you know how it is.” 

You shake your head. “I don’t, actually.” 

Eren laughs through his nose. “Besides, my grades were already shit. Those things were just the final straw.”

You wet your bottom lip, fingers idly tapping on the table. 

Eren took slight notice. He stops drawing and slides the napkin away from him. His expression remained neutral as he leaned back in his chair to fully face you. 

“Fights? Like, physical fights?” 

Eren laughs dryly. 

“Does that scare you?” 

You pick something that looks close to pride on his face. For being sent to a reformatory, it sure doesn’t seem like he learned much. 

“My best friend used to get picked on a lot. He’s kinda like you, actually. Short, bookish type. Anyway, it really pissed me off. I’m not the kind of guy that can just stand there while someone treats my friends like shit.” 

“So you stopped drinking and smoking?” You ask. 

Eren shifts, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Just learned how to hide it better.” 

He really didn’t learn anything. You heave out an exasperated sigh, but keep pressing. 

“What are you doing here then?” 

“My mom wanted a fresh start for me, figured moving might help.”

You hum quietly in understanding. 

You chat idly for another half hour before your phone buzzes under your thigh. 

Incoming call from: Mom. 

Your heart sinks as it dawns on you – you forgot to text your parents. 

“Ah,” you start nervously. “I’ve gotta get home.” 

“Want me to walk you?” Eren asks casually.

“No, it’s okay.” 

“You sure? It’s getting dark out, what if some creep tries to grab you?” 

Against your better judgment, you give in. 

While the two of you gather your things, your eye catches on the napkin he was drawing on. It didn’t look half bad. It was a flower with designs around it, the art oddly calming after hearing his tales from his old school. You grab the napkin when he isn’t looking, sliding it into your backpack. As you pack up, an odd feeling curls up in your stomach. Would he notice you took the drawing? Would he care? As you make your way to the exit, Eren holds the door on your way out. 

////

You stop a block down from your house. Even from afar, you can see the light on in the entryway, and your parents’ cars in the driveway. Eren is rambling about some cartoon series when you interrupt him.

“Here is fine,” you murmur, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m just down the street.”

Eren raises a brow suspiciously. You answer before he can ask. 

“I’m already in trouble for being late. If my parents see me with a boy, they’re gonna flip.” 

“Alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow.”

////

You did not see Eren tomorrow. Or the day after. 

Everything was radio silent. 

The prospect of having to deal with a new kid made you nervous at first, but you felt more at ease after getting to know him better. It was sort of ironic, in a way. You learned that Eren was a bad kid who liked to smoke and drink. Why did that make you feel more comfortable? If anything it should stress you out even more. He’s a bad influence. Maybe it was because he was being honest. Honesty is hard to come by nowadays. 

It looked like you would end up having to do the project on your own after all. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you were planning on doing this alone anyways… So why did you feel let down? 

////

The project is due tomorrow.

You’re hunched at your desk in your room, bottom lip pinched between your teeth. The heart monitor was more or less put together, and the written report just had a couple hundred words left before it was ready to submit. 

You knew you could do it by yourself, but it still would’ve been nice to have help. 

You open your files, ready to hammer out the final details.

“Wait, where is it?” You hum to yourself, scrolling a little too far in your files for your comfort. 

You try typing in the file name, only for your screen to taunt you back: no files found. 

You could have sworn you saved it under that. 

Your fingers shake from anxiety. Frantically, you type variations, thinking you might have saved it under something else. It’s no use.

“You have to be joking. Where is it?” 

At first it was mere nervousness, but now you’re in a full blown panic. 

“No, no, no!” You chant to yourself. 

Weeks of work, all down the drain. Did you save something on top of it? If that was the case, it was lost forever. 

Hopelessness washes over you. What were you gonna do? 

You’re about to accept your impending doom, no doubt get a failing grade on the assignment and lose your spot at the top of your class when you hear something clatter against your window. 

Your gaze snaps to the window, confused, until you watch something hit your window again. 

A twig? What the fuck? 

You approach the window and slide it open, about to stick your head out when another twig narrowly misses your face. 

“Shit, my bad!” Eren calls out, voice a little too loud for your liking. 

“Eren?”

There’s no fucking way. 

You look behind you, expecting your parents to open your door at any minute but they don’t. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“The project is due tomorrow, I came by to help.” 

You watch in awe as Eren heaves himself up, scaling the trellis alongside your house until he reaches your bedroom window, his face inches from yours. Light work for him. No reaction. 

“What is wrong with you?” You yell in a hushed tone, hoping the rustling foliage and thump of his feet against the house didn’t wake your parents. 

Eren grins. 

“A lot of things, I thought you already knew that.”

Wordlessly, you step out of the way so Eren could help himself in your room. 

If you weren’t so pissed you would have been impressed. Your room was on the second floor, and he’s barely breaking a sweat. 

Eren looks around your room, noticing the aforementioned heart monitor sitting on your bedroom floor and an open laptop on your desk, alongside a ripped-open pack of gummy worms. 

“So, what’s left to do?” 

“You really think I would leave things left to be done until the night before it’s due?” 

His brow raises. “Uh, maybe?”

You sigh and cross your arms, eyes dropping to your feet. 

“It was almost done, but I lost the report. It needs to be rewritten completely.” 

“Okay great, I’ll do that and you finish whatever it was you were doing here.” He carefully steps over the monitor and settles in your chair. 

“You can’t just write a whole report in one night.” 

Eren meets your gaze, grinning. “I like a challenge. Sit back and watch, shortstack.” 

He starts typing at a quick pace. 

////

You pause your work on the monitor and look up at Eren. His eyes glide over his work, his chin propped in his hand. His other hand helps itself to your gummy worms – a small price to pay for his help. 

“What happened to you anyway? You totally disappeared on me, it kinda sucked.” 

“Got grounded.” 

“What’d you do?” 

“Left some weed in my pocket. My mom went to do some laundry and it made a huge fucking mess in the washer, so I lost my phone.”

You let out an incredulous chuckle and he turned from the screen to look at you. 

“Yeah, yeah. Get it all out.” 

“I thought you said you were better at hiding it?” 

Eren grins. You can’t help but mirror him. 

Sure he was annoying, but you liked his company whether you would admit it or not. 

////

You didn’t know you fell asleep until your morning alarm woke you up. 

You must have taken yourself to bed at some point in the night. Forcing your bleary eyes open, you notice Eren’s figure hunched over your desk, still snoozing. 

Bangs hit against your door and you nearly jump from your skin. 

“Honey? You’re still asleep?” 

You throw a stuffed animal at Eren’s head, waking him up with a snort. 

“I-I’m awake!” You call back. 

You sigh in relief that your door was locked. If your parents came in and saw a boy sleeping in your room, you were gonna be in a whole world of trouble, way worse than a failing grade on an assignment. 

“Okay! I heard you snoring. Maybe you’re getting sick. Breakfast will be downstairs.” 

Your mom’s voice trailed away as you hear her descend the stairs again. 

Eren’s awake by now, rubbing his tired eyes with a yawn. “I want breakfast.” 

“You fell asleep in here?” 

“So did you.”

“It’s my room!” 

Eren shrugs and checks his phone, the battery almost drained. “Shit, it’s almost seven. I don’t have time to go back home. Guess I’ll go straight to school.”

He rises to his feet and stretches, reminding you of a cat. “Want me to wait outside for you?” 

“No, I’ll see you in class. Try not to lose the report.” 

Eren reaches for the handle of your bedroom door. You smack his hand and look up at him incredulously. 

“Take the window!” 

////

It was almost kind of funny. You’ve spent these last few weeks so nervous about the presentation, but when the time finally came, you felt relaxed. Maybe it was Eren’s influence encouraging you to take a breath for once. 

Eren takes the lead, reading the report aloud while you attach the nodes of your handmade monitor for the demonstration. Once he was finished, you turn it on, the monitor instantly coming to life, projecting Eren’s steady heartbeat. You lean forward to reposition one of the nodes, not wanting it to slip. You don’t realize how close you are until Eren’s breath hits your face. He’s looking directly at you. 

“It works.” He says matter of factly.

“You didn’t have faith in me?” 

“Of course I did.” 

Of all the times you’ve seen Eren smile, you’ve never seen one quite like this. It felt softer, genuine. The kind of smile you can’t help but mirror back until the pace of Eren’s heart rate accelerates, filling the room with a racing thump thump thump.  

Your teacher claps, signaling the end of your presentation. 

You end up with an A on the project, not unfamiliar for you, but it felt more rewarding this time around. 

////

Eren meets you outside your last class. Immediately, you notice he’s holding something behind his back. Something he’s trying to keep secret as he pivots slightly when you approach him, wanting to obscure this surprise even more. 

“Hey, Eren,” you greet, mildly suspicious. 

“How was your day?” 

“I’m so ready to go home.” 

There’s a crinkle as he extends his arm, offering a familiar brightly colored bag to you. 

Sour gummy worms. 

“These are for you, by the way.” 

You snatch the bag of candy, inspecting it closely. “For me?” 

Eren cocks his brow. “You think I’m trying to poison you?” 

“Or drug me,” you tease, though your tone is dry. “Don’t they make candy edibles like these?” 

Eren laughs, a throaty chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest, and tilts his head in amusement. 

You really, really like Eren’s laugh.  

“I’m not giving you edibles. Shit’s expensive. I just remembered you like those, and you worked really hard on the project, so. You deserve it.” 

You stuff the bag in your backpack, finally deeming them safe. 

“I’m surprised you remembered I like them.” 

“Obviously.” 

Eren walked you home, babbling on about his day, about cartoons, sometimes picking on you. You found it a little annoying, constantly having this guy follow you around, but his presence became a comfort to you. You thought you’d be done with him once the project was over, but you quickly learned Eren had no intention of backing off. He wanted to walk you home. 

Guys usually weren’t nice to you. Unless this was all a ploy, which was possible. Maybe he just wanted to make you look stupid. Time will tell. 

As you sat in bed that night, you looked at the crumpled bag of candy, and something akin to gratitude bloomed in your chest. You tear open the packet, picking a blue and red worm first and popping it into your mouth. 

How odd, you think. 

Whatever. 

You ate the candy that night, and you could’ve sworn that it somehow tasted sweeter than usual.

~~~

-Current- 

“Hey there.” 

You open your eyes to find a man who is definitely not Eren standing in front of you. 

He runs a hand through his bleach blond hair and flashes you a mischievous look in his dark brown eyes. The kind that makes you clutch your drink closer to your chest. The buzz in your body becomes a shiver as you shift uncomfortably.   

“Hey,” your tone is curt, borderline uninviting. Eren said to make friends, but you were certain this stranger didn’t come to you just for a conversation. 

“What’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” 

“I’m not alone, I’m actually–”

“So your friends just left you here?” He takes a step closer to you, backing you against the counter and grabbing the cup from your hand, ditching it on the counter. “Come hang out with me instead.” 

“I’m good actually, I think I’m just gonna stay here.” You put on a brave front, begging your voice not to betray you. 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. I can show you a good time.” He grabs your now unoccupied hand and leans in closer, close enough that the acrid scent of beer, cigarettes and sweat fills your senses with his every exhale and you tilt your head away to escape the smell. 

“Hey man, she said she’s good.” 

You’ve never been more relieved to hear Eren’s voice. You look at him with wide eyes, silently asking for help.

The blond bares his teeth in a sardonic smile.

“Who’s this? Your guard dog?”

Eren’s brow twitches. It’s one of his tells, a sign that his patience is wearing thin. You know better than to provoke Eren with the temper he has. It almost makes you feel sorry for the blond if he wasn’t actively harassing you. 

“Yeah and I bite, now back the fuck off.” 

His sweaty hand tightens on yours. 

“I’m good, man.” 

“I said get the fuck off.”

Eren charges forward and shoves the man away from you by his shoulders. He stands between you like an impenetrable wall, towering over the man who fucked around with Eren Jaeger’s temper and was about to find out. 

The man staggers back, hitting the opposite countertop. He brushes off his wounded pride with a scoff. 

“Lay off dude, I’m just trying to get laid like everyone else here. You can have her, she’s a fucking prude anyways.” 

You could choke on the tension building in the air. Eren is seething. 

“What did you just say?”

“I said I’m just trying to get my dick wet but this stuck up bitch isn’t cooperating.” 

The insult might’ve stung if you weren’t so terrified of what was going to happen next. Eren’s gaze lowers, eyes intense like he’s contemplating something while fidgeting idly with the thick metal band on his middle finger. Like he’s making a choice. 

“Is that so?” 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the poison laced in Eren’s voice. 

“Yeah, have her to yourself. That is if you can get her to spread her legs for you-“ 

Eren made his choice. His fist connects with the blond’s cheek, skin splitting under his ring, making him stagger and clutch his face. It takes only a second for his expression to shift from shock to pure rage.

Not even a second after you get out of the way, the stranger charges forward and throws Eren onto the counter by the front of his shirt. His fist slams into Eren’s nose with an audible crunch.

Eren’s knee shoots up, nailing his opponent in the balls hard enough to make even you grimace. Low blow. The man swears loud, doubling over in pain, and Eren takes advantage by uppercutting the blonde in the eye. 

The quarrel gathers a small group of people into the kitchen, their murmurs drowning out the House music blasting in the other room. 

The man lands a hit on Eren’s brow, splitting the skin, bright red blood immediately gushing towards Eren’s eye. 

“Porco!” 

You hear another man shout from behind you. 

The man you now recognize as Porco turns around towards the voice. Eren pushes up, but Porco is too slow to react. Fists continue to fly while Reiner pushes his way through the crowd, nudging you out of the way to separate the two.  

“Galliard! Jaeger! Step off!” Reiner’s voice bellows. He grabs Porco by the scruff, like a kitten, yanking him backwards. 

“He’s fucking crazy!” Porco spits out, his face battered and bruised in mere seconds. 

Eren’s eyes still narrow in on Porco. 

“Ren, come on.” You murmur, grabbing onto his arm. 

At first, Eren doesn’t budge under your hands. It takes a couple of tries before he allows you to drag him out, eyes never once leaving Porco. You don’t let go of his arm until you’ve exited the house, when your feet finally make contact with the sidewalk, finally trusting that he won’t go running back. 

“What the fuck was that Eren?” 

His silence had never been so loud. His body heaves with every breath, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. 

“You can’t just beat people up!” 

“He was being a fucking dick!” 

You start down the sidewalk, choosing to ditch your car for the night. The last thing you need is to be pulled over for intoxicated driving, no matter how sober you felt after that altercation. Your hand remains tight around Eren’s. The neighborhood looks different at night but you piece together your location. The campus convenience store is nearby – you’ve been there countless times before with Eren, whether to get a quick lunch or to load up on snacks before horror movie screenings at the local theater. You could probably walk the aisles blindfolded. 

Eren’s forced to wait outside as you didn’t want to scare the shop owner, or track blood all over his tile floors. Antibiotic cream, bandaids, and a pack of frozen peas. You can make do with this. 

You leave the bodega, fishing through the plastic bag slung over your arm.

“Here,” you toss the pack of frozen peas over your shoulder for Eren to catch. “Put these on your nose, the cold will help with the swelling in the meantime. I’ll clean you up when I can find a good place to sit.” 

Eren obliges, trailing behind you, pouting like a scolded child. 

Just around the corner is a residential park, one you had spent countless hours in despite neither of you actually living in that neighborhood. It’s empty at this time of night, and a quiet spot to sit down was ideal. 

You force Eren to sit on a swing, standing between his splayed legs. Like a baby giraffe, you think. He trains his eyes up at you while you get to work, still holding the frozen peas against his nose. 

You uncap the antibiotic ointment and tend to the wound on his brow. It looks like it stings, you try your best to not wince at the thought, but Eren’s face remains unchanging. Just staring up at you with emerald eyes, looking almost a little reflective. You’re sure he’s still thinking about the fight, replaying it in his head like a highlight reel of Eren Jaeger’s best hits. 

Silence settles between you. There were so many words you wanted to say, but you had no idea where to start. 

Sighing, you settle on: “Why’d you do it?” 

Eren’s answer is unsatisfyingly simple. “He was being a dick to you.” 

“I could’ve handled it myself.” 

“Yeah,” Eren scoffs, tone laced with sarcasm. “You seemed to be doing a great job at that.” 

You bite your tongue and rip a bandage out of its paper to cover up the wound, then observe your handiwork. 

It’s late. You’re tired, the buzz has long since worn off. Wordlessly, you slump into the adjacent swing. 

“Touché.” 

Eren’s demeanor shifts into one more casual, his anger fizzled out. 

“Why don’t you stand up for yourself?” 

“Maybe I don’t wanna make a scene. It’s not a big deal anyways, it doesn’t matter.” 

“It matters to me.” 

You feel your stomach tighten. Ever since the day you met Eren, he was always so understanding of you. He looked out for you. 

You sigh, idly tracing marks in the sand with your foot. You had been to this same park countless times before, making these same shapes in the sand, but tonight felt different. 

“Why do you care so much?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady. 

From the corner of your eye you see Eren’s long legs stretch forward in front of him. He produces a carton of pre-rolled cigarettes from his pocket and slots one between his lips. His thumb strikes the wheel of his lighter once, twice, before producing a flame that illuminates his face. You watch silently as he lights the end of his joint, exhaling that first cloud of smoke into the night air.  

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.” 

Your heart clenches in your chest. It wasn’t like you were unaware that you were his best friend, but Eren wasn’t the most sentimental person. He wasn’t one for vocalizing his thoughts, or being mushy about his feelings. You knew this about him, so his sincerity always struck you. Every once in a while he would say something that caught you by surprise, making your breath seize in your lungs. 

Eren was a lot of things – brash, impulsive, and annoying – but he also cared about you like nobody else. 

The pungent, earthy smell quickly hits your nose. When you first started hanging out with Eren, you couldn’t stand the smell. Your nose would pinch up in disgust while you watched him get high, but now the scent became familiar to you. It was something comforting, like late nights in the summer when you had no agenda. Like walks to the nearby store to stock up on candy, or deep conversations underscored by low music. 

It reminded you of Eren. 

It reminded you of home. 

“Wow,” you glance at Eren, lips cracking a smile. Your hands hold the swing chains tight, the cold metal biting into your palms. 

“What?” 

“Never would have pegged you for such a sentimentalist, Eren.” 

“You don’t peg me at all.” He responds. 

You try to hold back a smile but it shows through. No matter what, you’re determined to continue poking fun at him. 

“Who knew you had such a bleeding heart.” 

Eren rolls his eyes, a smile threatening to break around the joint. He plucks it from his mouth for a breath of fresh air instead, the silver of his rings glinting in the moonlight. “Oh, shut up.” 

“I’m serious. Did you pull that from a movie? Maybe overhear someone else say it?” You keep poking lightheartedly. 

“You’re the one who asked. Plus, you know you love me.” 

At this point you break eye contact, settling on the moon instead. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” 

You meant it too. 

You weren’t sure when Eren started to matter so much to you. At first he was unbearable – a delinquent who’s favorite pastime was pestering you – but slowly, he turned into a face you expected to see at every turn. Not having his presence felt unsettling, and you found yourself dreading classes without him. 

Eren extends the hand holding the joint. He still offers, knowing you always decline. 

“Want some?”

“No thanks.” 

“Okay. Just thought I’d ask. What with me being a sentimentalist and all.” 

The two of you laugh softly. It always felt like this with Eren. Easy. You had your habits and he had his, just like anyone else, but your friendship felt just as easy as breathing. It was hard to imagine what your life was like before him. 

Eren ditches his finished joint into the sand, squashing it down under his shoe.

“Wanna go somewhere else? I feel bad inviting you to that lame ass party. I think the lanes are still open, or the arcade.” 

The thought was tempting. You did love going to the arcade. It may not seem like much to anyone else, but it felt special to you. Good music, timeless classics, and an owner that hooked you up with extra tokens as a thank you for keeping the business alive. Not far from that was the bowling alley. Neither of you were good at bowling, if anything, you’ve probably watched Eren accidentally throw himself down the lane more than the actual ball. 

As nice as hanging out longer sounded, a feeling of responsibility gnaws inside you. 

“I shouldn’t,” you sigh. “I have a test coming up.” 

“A test on a Friday night?” Eren questions.  

“No, it’s in a couple days. I know you don’t know this but there’s a thing called studying that people sometimes do when they care about academics.” 

“Studying?” Eren plays along with your bit, sounding out the word like it’s unfamiliar to him. “I don’t know, I think my method works just fine.” 

“Just winging it? Yeah, right. It’s a miracle you’ve made it this far, Eren Jaeger.”

Eren is the first to stand up.

“Always so cruel to me.” He fakes a somber face.

“Sure I am,” you stand as well, smoothing out your clothes. “Walk me back?” 

///

The walk back is pleasant, though the cold is biting. There weren’t many students on campus around this time, with winter break quickly approaching. Anyone who wasn’t already home for the holidays was either tucked away in their dorms, or out partying. As for you, ending the semester meant drowning in a sea of tests. You were looking forward to a break. 

Eren walks beside you, hands in his pockets. He didn’t live on campus, so you appreciate him walking with you. Eren had a small apartment a couple blocks away, a graduation gift from his parents who were amazed he made it out of high school. It was a comfortable place for you to hang out, seeing as your dorm wasn’t exactly fit for hosting.

It wasn’t that your dorm was inhospitable to say, however it wasn’t exactly the marriott either. Eren referred to it as the pig sty, but you thought he was exaggerating when he said that. Sure you would occasionally leave some clothes here and some trash there, but it was under control. In your opinion at least. You didn’t have time to keep things spotless. You were running yourself thin between school, work, and Eren. He could be considered a full time job all by himself. 

Eren’s house was nicer anyway. The furniture was simplistic and things were never left out. It seemed like the opposite of what you would expect for someone like him. You had two theories on why things were spotless at his bachelor pad. One, his doting mother Carla raised him to be tidy. His house was never messy growing up so he got used to it. Two, Eren constantly had… how do you say, lady friends over frequently. Couldn’t get laid if your house was a mess. Either way, his place was nice and yours was not.

Your strides slow as you approach the dorm building, pulling your key card from your wallet and tapping it on the lock, hearing it whirr and click, the light flashing green. You reach for the handle but Eren beats you to it, holding the door open for you. The warm air flows from inside the building, fanning across your cold face, the sensation prickling your skin. 

“I’m sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean to stand you up, that was a dick move of me.” 

“Psh, it’s okay,” you shrug. “All things considered, I’d say I had a fun night.” 

You hear a ding further down the hallway where the elevator stood. Metal doors open to reveal two girls about your age chatting inside. Their eyes lock with Eren’s, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. 

The girls pass by as you enter the building, whispering and giggling to each other when they catch sight of Eren. He flashes a grin and flicks his eyes up and down as they leave before returning his attention back to you. It’s nothing new. You weren’t blind, even you could admit Eren was good looking – and you weren’t stupid either. Eren’s love life is a never-ending story. A long list of girlfriends, and an even longer list of hookups. You had long gotten used to the shameless flirting. 

You and Eren make your way to the elevator. Your finger presses into the button, a comfortable silence falling over you as you wait. 

The elevator dings. Your feet only need to move so far before you find yourself at the familiar front door, decorated in construction paper cut-outs with your name written in sharpie. You lean against the doorway, arms crossed over your chest.

“Can I see you again tomorrow?” Eren asks. “I work from 10 to 2.” 

Eren works at a small smoke shop by campus. All of the other employees were students as well, and most of the customers were also students with drooping eyes. You weren’t sure how it began, but you had a tradition of going to Eren’s work to drop him off lunch when he worked. You didn’t go every time he had a shift, but often enough.

“Of course, I’ll bring you lunch. Want anything special?” 

“Nah, surprise me.” 

You pull Eren into a hug, eyes fluttering shut as his scent fills your senses. Spices, smoke with a subtle bite. His arms squeeze around yours before withdrawing, sending you off with a pat on your back. 

“Okay! Get home safe. Try not to get into any more fights on the way home.” 

“No promises!” Eren calls from over his shoulder as he starts down the hallway. You click your tongue, watching as he enters the elevator and disappears behind the doors, smiling the entire time. 

The lock clicks behind you. Tiredness hits you all at once, feet dragging the short distance from your front door to your bed until you flop down in it, pulling your laptop off your nightstand and squinting at the bright screen. Sleep was calling your name, but you were already behind on studying and didn’t want to spend your winter break making up for a failed test. 

At least 15 minutes. Yeah, that won’t hurt. 

You stretch a couple of times, trying to force the exhaustion from your body. 

You make it as far as logging into the student portal before your phone lights up beside you, and you don’t even try to resist the distraction. It could only be one person at this time of night. 

Eren: What’s up? 

You: I don’t know, you texted me. 

Dots appear on your screen, then disappear. You can picture him now, walking down the sidewalk with one hand holding his phone, the other probably holding a lit cigarette. You can picture the smoke and warm breath puffing into the air as he laughs. 

Eren: Do you miss me horribly yet? 

You accept that studying is futile and shut your laptop, instead flopping over and letting your back hit the mattress. Laying down has never felt so good. 

You: Yes, I’m beside myself right now. 

Eren: I can always turn back around. The night is still young. 

You: No, my bed is calling my name. Goodnight, Eren. 

Eren: I was gonna make something to eat but I’m not sure what. 

You: I said goodnight, Eren. 

Eren: You’re no fun. 

The screen starts to blur as your eyes droop, body succumbing to exhaustion. Your arm goes limp, dropping onto your chest. You feel your phone buzz once more before falling asleep. 

Eren: Goodnight shortstacks. 

Tag List: @dinolvrrr, @constawrites

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this fic or any of my other fics please let me know, jus specify what you want to be added to

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

Baghra Morozova is one of the most selfish fictional characters ever written. Not only she possesses no empathy, she has never had an aspiration or an ambition in her life. This is probably LB's fault because she didn't give her a personality except being a bitter nihilistic pessimist, but let's discuss the harmful ideology she lived by and tried to install into his son and Alina. And how Aleksander refused to learn that lesson from her.

Wanting doesn't make someone weak, nor it is a problem.

Darkling's infamous words "The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak" is purely an echo of his mother's teachings. Because Darkling's whole source of strength and motivation since he was thirteen was the want to make a better world for Grisha. Or at least a world where they wouldn't be hunted and shamed for existing. After centuries of loyal servitude to awful rulers he managed to create a safe haven for Grisha, but even there, they were serfs.

There is no denying that Baghra was an intelligent, ruthless, powerful, cunning and unfeeling woman. Unlike her son, who was prone to sentiment even though she did her best to weed it out of him, Baghra was not particularly emotional even when she was young. I don't know if she had some sort of mental condition or she was just that kind of person, but she lived for centuries and never had a dream to become anything. Creation of her son Aleksander served only one purpose to her - so she would have someone like herself. Someone she could share loneliness with. Because I cannot call Baghra's and Aleksander's relationship companionship. She made that decision when she was young, and after raising him, she often left him to his own devices, but never actually let him out of her clutches. She abandoned her other children because they weren't Darklings. She did not want a family, she wanted a reflection of herself who she could have a conversation with. Aleksander should have just brought her the mirror from "When water sang fire" which could create an illusion of a person's reflection being sentient.

Anyway, back to the point. Baghra was a part of a prosecuted minority for centuries and never tried to make a difference. Nor did she support her son when he tried. I can understand how at first she was solely focused on survival and that mindset stayed with her, but after both of them were centuries old, why didn't she do something? She clearly didn't fear death. She is content to sit in her hut, stroke fire and spit venom for eternity. Which is funny, because she's supposed to be inspired by Baba Yaga from Slavic fairytales, but she reminds me more of Nacarqeqia, a stereotype of a lazybones layabout lit ash-raker from fairytales, who has capacity to do heroic things by outwitting the opponents, but chooses to sit by the dwindling fire and complain and daydream instead.

When your kind has been subjected to genocide for centuries, it's not "greedy" and "corrupt" to take drastic action.

Tolkien pushed the narrative I agree with, that war is always horrible and it's not something to be glorified, which lots of works in fantasy tend to overlook. I agree with Baghra that power corrupts. But like @aleksanderscult and @stromuprisahat have already discussed in their analysis posts (check out their work), Aleksander did not want power for himself or to lift Grisha above other people. He wanted his kind to have basic human rights. I don't understand what LB was trying to say. That fighting for freedom of your people is bad? And Baghra is convinced it's best to do nothing, because humanity is already too messed up and there's no point in trying. Some wise ancient advisor she is.

What actual humanitarians think about not taking action to help your people survive

Nobleman Ilia Chavchavadze was a Georgian public figure, journalist, publisher, writer and poet who spearheaded the revival of Georgian nationalism during the second half of the 19th century and ensured the survival of the Georgian language, literature, and culture during the last decades of Tsarist rule. (A.k.a "Saint Ilia the Righteous". Ironic, I know. Like Baghra's father, Ilya Morozova in Shadow and Bone. But I wouldn't compare them.)

In his publication "Letters of a traveler", Chavchavadze writes his inner monologue, where he worries about his country and contemplates what to do, as he returns from Russia to his homeland. He writes:

"I went out from my room and looked over at Mqinvari, which they call Mount Kazbek. There is something noble about Mqinvari. Truly can it say: the heavens are my head-dress and the earth my slippers. It rose in the azure sky, white and serene. Great is it, calm and peaceful, but it is cold and white. Its appearance makes me wonder but doesn't move me, it chills me and does not warm me — in a word it is Mqinvari /frozen/. Mqinvari with all its grandeur is to be admired but not to be loved. And what do I want with its greatness. The world's hum, the world's whirlwind and breezes, the world's ill or weal makes not even a nerve in his lofty brow twitch. Although his base stands on mother earth his head rests: in heaven; it is isolated; inaccessible. I do not like such height nor such isolation nor such inaccessibility." This is Baghra's life in a nutshell. Not bothering to engage, standing still, isolated for centuries. Her connection to making at the heart of the world, her gift, her life, wasted.

Aleksander is different. He's constantly in danger, he is dangerous but in a different way, he stumbles, crashes, redefines himself, pushes forward no matter what to achieve his goal. -

"Thank God for the desperate, mad, furious, obstinate, disobedient muddy river Terek! Leaping from the black rock's heart he goes roaring and shouting on his way. I love his noisy murmur, its hurried struggle, grumbling and lamentation. The river is the image of human awakened life, it is a face mobile and worth knowing.

Stand still but a little while and dost thou not turn into a stinking pool and does not this fearsome roar of thine change to the croaking of frogs! It is movement and only movement, my Terek, which gives to the world its might and life."

I hope we can all understand this metaphor and what it stands for, I believe I have explained enough.

[munson-blurbs]

Hi Bug <3

Here’s my Tropes-or-Treat request😁

M&Ms, Butterfinger and our dear Eddie of course 🩵 smut would be amazing 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Friends-to-Lovers/Shy!Reader/Eddie Munson (also requested by @mopeymopeymouse & @lunamoons-things)

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), Reader wears a skimpy outfit, insecure Reader, Billy Hargrove is a douche, mentions of drinking, mentions of selling weed

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

“Hey.”

You almost don’t hear him over the sound of music pulsing through the stereo speakers and your own hyperfocus on the drink in your hand. Whatever’s in this jungle juice is strong, but not enough to loosen you up, it seems.

When you look up and see him, concern furrowing his brows, you only offer a weak smile and a soft, “hi.”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Eddie asks, leaning next to you, forearms pressed to the patio banister. “Hargrove’s inside.”

You wince at the mention of your boyfriend. “He’s mad at me,” you admit quietly, taking another swig from your Solo cup. Billy’s chastising words echo in your mind: no fucking fun, why can’t you be like the other girls? He was the reason you were wearing this ridiculous outfit–which was basically glorified lingerie poorly disguised as a witch costume. You feel uncomfortable and out of sorts, but Billy had insisted that you wear it, saying that he didn’t want to be the only guy at the party with a prude girlfriend.

He hadn’t noticed you before you’d started tutoring his stepsister, Max, but when he did start paying attention to you, he was a bloodhound. And after a month of secretly dating, he was finally ready to show you off.

Except…

Except the you he wanted people to see was just a facade. He didn’t want the introverted girl who preferred the company of her books and a small group of friends; he wanted someone he could dress up and parade around like a trophy. You were something he’d conquered, not someone he loved.

Eddie doesn’t ask for details; he just shrugs off his denim jacket and rests it over your bare shoulders. “I’m done selling for the night,” he reports, drumming his fingers on the tin box he uses to transport his stash. “You wanna head back to the trailer? Watch a movie and shoot the shit?”

You can’t agree fast enough, scrambling to your feet and climbing in his van. Things have been a bit strained between you two since you got with Billy, but the beauty of being Eddie’s friend is that you fall back into your usual routine without having to try. 

The ride to Forest Hills is fast, especially with Eddie driving like a madman. You both plop onto the couch, Eddie reaching for an open bag of pretzels on the side table and offering you some before taking a handful. 

“I’m so glad you’re done with that asshole,” he says with a mouthful of the snack. “No fuckin’ clue what you saw in him.” When you don’t respond, refusing to meet his gaze, he sighs. “Nope, no way. Do not tell me—”

“What other choice do I have?” you rebut. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat. “You could be with someone who doesn’t treat you like crap!”

“Oh, yes,” you scoff, “let me just call one of my many suitors.” Making a big show of standing and traipsing over to where their phone hangs on the wall, you pick up the receiver with feigned exuberance. “That’s right—no one else wants me!” You slam the phone down and cross your arms over your chest. 

“Bullshit!” Eddie bellows, tossing the pretzel bag onto the couch and stomping towards you. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Then who—”

You don’t finish your sentence before his lips collide with yours; his hands on your hips pressing you up against the wall. You can taste the lingering cigarette smoke on his tongue; he drinks in whatever vodka-based concoction is on yours. 

He breaks away abruptly, mouth agape in disbelief. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have done that.”

“‘S okay,” you mumble. “Wasn’t half bad for a pity kiss.”

“A pity—no, that wasn’t pity. That was an, ‘I’ve been wanting to do this forever’ kiss.” His fingertips brush against yours. “Let me take care of you,” he murmurs, and when you nod, he leads you to his bedroom. He waits for you to lay on the bed before climbing on top of you, knee nudged between your legs and head nestled into the crook of your neck. His fingers dip below your lace panties, and you freeze up at his touch. “We, um, we don’t have to do this,” he says hurriedly. “Just say the word.”

But you do want this; no, you need this. You need him to show you what true passion looks like, not whatever feigned version Billy had offered. As soon as you give Eddie a breathless, enthusiastic yes, he’s tugging your tiny skirt and lace panties down your legs. The cool air barely hits your pussy before his lips are on it, tongue licking up the center before finding your clit. 

A whine catches in your throat, releasing as a pathetic whimper. You’re so sensitive, so starved for touch. You’ve become acclimated to the way Billy grabs at you, pawing at your ass or breasts as a means to take what he wants, leaving you feeling used and unsatisfied. 

Eddie’s touch is vastly different. Yes, it’s fueled by sexual desire, but it’s too attentive to just be lust. You prop yourself on your elbows and watch him, doe eyes looking up at you to gauge your reaction. “Keep going,” you sigh, flopping back down on the bed, and you can feel his soft laugh on your core. 

He works meticulously, holding a steady pace as you writhe against his face. Your hands grasp the bedsheets in your fists, nearly yanking them off of the mattress as he slides a finger inside you while continuing to lightly suck on your bud. 

A second finger joins the first, pulsing in and out of you eagerly but not frantically. The combination of him filling you up and the way he so desperately craves pleasing you has you hurtling you towards orgasm. Instinctively, you press your lips together to muffle your moans, but Eddie’s having none of that.

“Wanna hear your pretty noises. Pretty noises from my pretty girl,” he says quickly, wasting no time eagerly returning to the task at hand.

“Eddie, Eddie, I’m coming!” you cry out, arching your back as you finish. Eddie brings you down from your euphoric state with a few more kitten licks to your pussy, wiping your slick from his mouth and chin as he climbs up your body and kisses you deeply.

You run your fingers through his hair before it occurs to you: “I can return the favor.” Heat rises to your cheeks; how could you be so selfish and forget about him?

But a shake of his head and a bashful chuckle immediately quell your nerves. “‘S, uh, already taken care of.” And though his denim jeans are black, you can still spot the wet stain pooled at the seam. 

Needless to say, the thought of returning to Billy Hargrove doesn’t even cross your mind.

--

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Flower in hell

warning : fluff, tiny hurt, insults, comfort, some touching without consent, no use of y/n

Euronymous x fem reader

Disclaimer : This is just a piece of fiction and is based on the movie and it's character. I don't want to glorify the real life events behind that the movie is based of.

masterlist-Rory's charcters, masterlist-Lords of Chaos 2018

Part.1

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She didn't really want to go into the shop, the shop with the eternal darkness as her mother called it. It was just a last resort for her father's birthday because she didn't have time to buy a present. But now she was here a few metres away from the record shop.

She could still hear her mother practically throwing her out of the house to look for a present. Apart from the fact that she had almost no idea what her father's bands were called, she didn't quite seem to match the outfit either.

Because it was still relatively warm in late summer, she had put on her white summer dress with embroidered daisies and a white cardigan, an outfit that not only showed off her favourite flower, but also brought her what felt like the only joy today.

But when she stopped for a moment in front of the first shop window and saw the customers inside, she knew she was definitely dressed wrong. Like a Ying and Yang she thought and seriously considered going back home and changing to avoid any beatings or attempts on her life.

Because like almost everyone in town, she believed that the metal fans had something to do with the church fires. Apart from the prejudices, she had never listened to the music. She knew that she was as good as lost.

Stopping in front of the next shop window, she saw the silver chains hanging inside, enclosing the new albums. The soundproof covers were mostly dark but she found it somehow fascinating in its own way.

Before she looked past the black fabric and saw that inside, next to the customers, the whole wall and the entire shop was kept in black. Only the individual album covers gave the shop a little colour, which was swallowed by the black. It won't be so bad, she thought, knowing the effect the metal fans had here.

She had seen the group walking around a time or two, she could still smell the beer, cigarettes and weed outside the shop. She knew that most of them were avoiding them.

Taking a last breath, she walked to the door and opened it. Immediately she was hit with a mix of smoke, wood, dust and beer mixed with the loud music playing in the shop.

She wasn't quite sure whether to cough, spin around and walk back out, or just pass out and let the ambulance drive her out of here. Just get it over with she thought to herself and went to the first shelf with the sound panels. Looking through the alphabetised compartments, she kept her gaze down.

She tried to block out the other shoppers and avoid contact as much as possible. But despite the loud music that could be heard coming from the shop, she could still hear the other shoppers talking. In the corner of her eye, she saw the salesman walk around behind the braid and step in her direction.

She was just about to turn the record around to look at the songs when he took it out of her hand. ,,The flower shop is one street over, Daisy," she heard the black-haired man say, looking at her dismissively.

She knew she should have been angry with him for his behaviour, should have listened to her mother and kept away from such people. But it was different, instead of hatred and rejection she felt fascination. Fascination about his appearance and looks.

The long, black, slightly wavy hair, the black clothes with the leather jacket that clung to his body to match the ammunition belt. The thing that completely captivated her, however, were his eyes. The bright blue eyes that seemed to be the only non-dark thing about him. It was like the infinite sky, as if she could look at him forever.

As if he had her in his hold. ,,I know where it is, but that's not why I'm here," she replied and tried to reach for the album. But the unknown man pulled it away from her and threw the record to his colleague, a man with long brown hair who sat down with it on a couch and watched TV.

She looked past the black-haired man and recognised Evil Dead. ,,Did you hear that, Faust, that's why the little flower isn't here?" he asked amusedly to the brown-haired man, who chuckled but didn't look away from the television. ,,What is she here for?" asked someone else who came out of a door.

He also had long brown hair and almost a confident grin on his lips. She shuddered when he looked at her. It was definitely a different look from the black-haired man. Not so much interested as almost obsessive. Rolling her eyes, she turned away from him and went to another shelf instead.

She tried to ignore the stares of the three and continued looking for an album for her father. If only they knew she thought, biting her tongue to swallow a comment. Running her fingers over the albums she found a name that sounded familiar. ,,Scorpions" she mumbled and took out the album, she remembered well how her father had talked about the new album.

At least now she had an idea what she would buy him. She heard the laughter of the three as she walked towards the checkout. She stopped only when the black-haired man stood in her way again.

Saw how amused he was that she was getting more annoyed. Like a game of cat and mouse, he seemed to enjoy dragging it out. ,,Do you treat all your clients like this?" she asked him, clutching the album in her hand tighter so as not to lose it.

But this made the black-haired man smile before he stepped aside and bowed slightly to show her the way. ,,Only the customers who are really sexy" she heard him murmur and felt the goose bumps spread over her body.

For a moment he seemed too close to her. For a moment she felt his hand over hers before he pulled away from her and walked around her to finally stand behind the cash register.

Handing him the plate, she saw the one with the brown hair go up to the black-haired man and take it from him. ,,Scorpions is a disgrace, even a doll like you should know that...get lost" he hissed and seemed about to smash the record on the counter.

Angered by his cheeky and unkind manner towards her, she reached into her pocket and hammered a cash note onto the braid before snatching the album out of the surprised brown-haired man's hand. ,,Fuck you and your fucking shop you miserable cheeky bastard. It's not even for me, it's for my father, just fuck off!" she snapped at him.

Before turning on her heel and giving the three of them her middle finger before slamming the door behind her. ,,How can you be so rude?" she cursed outside as she made her way back to her house to finally get to the birthday party. Hoping that the cake would lift her spirits. She did not hear the door she had slammed open and close again.

Only when someone grabbed her wrist did she realise that someone was behind her. ,,What!" she shouted at the stranger and saw herself about to strike the brown-haired man. But she stopped and saw that it wasn't him. It was the black-haired one with the lovely eyes. ,,Here, you forgot your change," he said and put the money in her hand before looking around slightly nervously.

Surprised by him looking at her hand, she put the money in her pocket and gave a ,,Thank you", not expecting him to chase her for it. ,,No problem...I hope you don't take his words seriously, he's just an asshole" he apologised for his friend's behaviour in a calmer tone. He didn't make fun of her anymore and she believed his words.

Gave him a small smile as a thank you before she answered, ,,He's just an asshole like you said, it's okay". Silence fell between the two of them, not only did she seem to be starting to find it uncomfortable, but she could also tell by his slightly uncertain look that he seemed almost nervous. ,,I'm the owner of the shop, Euronymous by the way, and that asshole was a member of my band Mayhem," he said suddenly and she saw the pride in his gaze.

As he himself smiled slightly and she now knew exactly who was standing in front of her. Knew exactly where she was and when she had snapped at him inside. ,,True Norwegian Black Metal" she repeated his words and saw him looking at her in surprise.

Heard his amused giggle which made him seem kind of cute. ,,I didn't think a daisy had such good taste," she heard him say before he reached out to her dress. She felt him tracing the embroidery with his fingers. Not breaking eye contact she felt herself getting lost in his eyes again. As if he knew exactly what effect he had on her.

She felt him squeeze a little harder, almost deliberately, to test how far he could go. ,,I just know what I like," she said quieter and faintly than she had intended. As if her head had switched itself off and her body reacted on its own. Before he pulled away from her after a moment.

Knowing he had her. Knowing she would come back. ,,Then I hope you like my fucking shop and come back after all," he said goodbye to her as he bowed slightly again, making her smile. ,,Maybe I'll come back again sometime, it would be nice not to be insulted this time...but thank you Euronymous" she added before giving him a final wave before turning around to head back home.

But she was wrong, the cake didn't lift her spirits, she knew it was Euronymus who had lifted her spirits. Unaware that it would not be the last time she would find herself in his record store again.

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@mayhem-things

[ficretus]

*during Volume 7*

Ruby: General Ironwood, me and my team have some... concerns about your leadership.

Ironwood: *with his back turned* What's an issue?

Weiss: Well first you closed Kingdom's borders.

Ironwood: Necessary precaution. We must impede infiltration of Salem's agents with any means necessary. When Salem sends her people, she is sending her best.

Yang: Then you called Mistral "a shithole Kingdom."

Ironwood: That is not language I usually use, but I stand by my stance about Mistral. I assure you, nobody knows more about Mistral than me.

Blake: Then you claimed Robyn Hill is Vacuan agent sent to undermine Atlas. And you keep demanding to see her birth certificate.

Ironwood: And I am yet to receive those papers.

Ruby: But most concerning is... that cap you are wearing.

Ironwood: What is wrong with my cap, am I not allowed to make rash fashion decisions?

Weiss: You really shouldn't make rash fashion decisions.

Ruby: General Ironwood... turn around.

*Ironwood turns around revealing MAHA cap*

Ruby: Make Atlas High Again?! This was never about saving Remnant, you just want to launch Atlas into stratosphere and leave the rest to die!

Yang: I knew we couldn't trust you!

Ironwood: Wait what? That would be crazy and unsustainable plan. No, my plan is far more reaching. *reaches for his pocket*

Blake: He might be pulling a weapon!

*RWBY reach for their weapons*

Ironwood: This is the key to MAHA plan.

Yang: That's a... blunt.

Ironwood: You see, after I lost my limbs I was prescribed medicinal marijuana for my phantom pain. It seemed silly initially, but then it awakened my Semblance, Woodstock. Every time I smoke weed it clears my mind and I get brilliant ideas.

Ruby: I'm confused.

Weiss: So every time you had a secret meeting with your inner circle... you were... you were... smoking weed?!

Ironwood: Yes. Your sister is way more pleasant and honest conversationalist when she is high.

Yang: Wait, how? I tried it while I was in Branwen bandit camp and it only made me more cranky.

Ironwood: You didn't try the good stuff. And this just confirms my stance on Mistral.

Blake: Nothing beats good catnip.

Ruby: Look, I am gonna ignore this whole post has been hijacked by weed jokes. What exactly is your plan General Ironwood?

Ironwood: Before Atlas gets high, it needs to get low. We are gonna land Atlas before using Relic of Creation. With it, we are gonna create a massive eternal blunt. Using the Winter Maiden power, Specialist Schnee will spread its fumes across the Remnant.

Weiss: How will that fix... ANYTHING!?

Ironwood: It will work as a double protection. Salem and her agents will be neutralized by relaxing effect of the blunt. Grimm are immune to it, but they'll have nothing to latch onto since everyone will be spreading positive vibes. It's a foolproof plan.

Yang: Have you lost your mind? That will never work!

Blake: Subjugation through hedonism. That's a gross violation of free will!

Weiss: I said no to drugs long ago! I am not gonna be defeated by glorified second hand smoke!

Ruby: I'm afraid we have to stop your plan General.

*RWBY pull out their weapons*

Ironwood: Stop me? Did you really think I would parade around with this cap and tell you about my plan if there was a chance of you affecting its outcome? I did it... 35 minutes ago.

*smoke enters the building*

*5 minutes later*

Yang: *giggling* You know what, I loooooooove you Blake!

Blake: Really, just like that?

Yang: Why not, did you expect me to confess while hanging over chasm or something.

*Bees kiss*

Weiss: *giggling* Great, I took one whiff of it and I immediately find myself in indecent company. Mom was so right about drugs.

Yang: Oh, it's gonna get even more indecent. Where is Ruby?

Weiss: She is zooming around the building. Do you think this plan actually worked?

*elsewhere*

Cinder: Maiden powers are so lame, it's the exact same power repeated four times. Such a dumb thing to obsess over. Screw it, I'm getting laid.

Emerald: Me, me, me.

Cinder: Someone loyal, bold, responsible...

Emerald: Me, me, me, me, me.

Cinder: Blond...

Emerald: Sigh, not even with weed.

Salem: I feel like everything I have done just keeps spreading... negative vibes.

Tyrian: Whatever you say my Goddess.

Salem: I am cancelling this whole end of the world thing and getting back with Ozma.

Tyrian: Aw...

[zivazivc]

I'm gonna take some time to digest and think about that comic before I come to a decision. The decision being whether to continue to support you or just leave you be.

If I decide to leave you be, just know that there are no hard feelings, okay?

You are on anon so I don't know if this is someone who I've talked to before, but either way, yes, no hard feelings. I completely understand. It's the internet, anyone can unfollow anyone for any reason, but also I know this is an uncomfortable topic and even triggering to some, and some people are just not here for that. I was contemplating posting it for a while for this reason.

I do kinda want to point out that the purpose was/is not to fetishize a relationship with a minor and I will never fetishize or glorify that ever. It's wrong and unhealthy even if there's no malicious intent present. (am pointing it out because I got a bunch of asks about it and I'm 🧍) But this is fiction, and I portrayed the scenes the way that I did mainly because I made the comic from Floyd's perspective and I wanted to get in his head and show what exactly he was feeling in that moment. If the end result makes you feel uncomfortable or "flustered" (I don't think I'm using the right English word) in a certain icky way, that was kind of the point and I believe should be a normal reaction from an adult.

I spent my high school years (normally 15-19yo, but it was more like 14-22+) living in a dorm in the country's capitol and I attended a vocational school for visual arts that is pretty notorious for having a drug problem (I'm talking about mostly weed) and being full of weirdos (students free and comfortable expressing themselves and experimenting with expressing themselves but weirdos is the used term lol). The dorm is also located very near the city's subcultural center (look up Ljubljana Metelkova if you want, it's kind of what I imagine the underground scenes the bandmates visit looking like) which is like a hangout place for subcultures like punks and metalheads and the lgbtq. Anyway coming from living my whole life in a rural village where I still played with toys to somewhere like that was an insane shock to me. I sometimes felt like a toddler around young adults in a big city. And it was whiplash for many other teens too, some of whom quickly fell into bad crowds and spiraled, often those who came from bad home situations or controlling parents (heck some even came from elementary schools already doing problematic things). The amount of rumors of things happening in that dorm and school (drugs, sex, messing around with older teens/adults, whatever)... (I'm not saying it was like a concerning percentage of students but it was happening) Some of these people who made some bad choices were and some still are my friends, some of whom still struggle with some things today and it's heartbreaking.

Anyway where I was going with this is that in high school I was always kind of the anti all of that (to the point it had the opposite effect on me where I didn't even try out the normal teenage things) and just thinking "what the fuck is wrong with these people?" And recently, when my headcanons for Floyd started going in the direction that they have, I started wondering the same thing. Just not in a judgemental way this time. More like I want to dissect this situation carefully and understand it from everyone's perspective and see what lead up to it. I've always been very fascinated by morally gray and dark fiction for this reason and this is right up that alley.

So yeah, this isn't for everyone, and I can't hold a grudge if anyone unfollows me for it. But what I'm doing here is inspired a lot by real life situations and my weird deep dives into articles about trauma and its effects (also pretty sure I'm also processing some of my own personal emotions through these blorbos but I am not going into that), and I feel like I'm taking a pretty realistic approach to it (if you ignore the fact that this is fucking Trolls). I'm just slowly exploring how a relationship between a teen who comes from a sheltered almost cultish upbringing (pop trolls live in a concentration camp and are dealing with the horrors by singing and enjoying every minute of their every day like life is a ticking time bomb) and a young adult who never got a chance to grow up because he never experienced a childhood and is suddenly being liked by someone for the first time in his life (I'll talk more about Les some other time), would develop into hopefully something okay for both of them. Because I do want them to both be okay in the end. And I'm sharing some of my brainworms online for anyone who's interested. I just can't share ALL of my brain worms and sometimes I forget that people don't have a view of what's going on in my head. Yeah... This answer became long for no other reason except that I can't sleep because I posted that comic, damn. That's what I get for dropping that bombshell on top of what was mostly fun "comedic" posts about the AU so far.

[louisisalarrie]

Hello love. I like sending you asks because you’re always great at responding. This one is a bit sensitive. Don’t post if not appropriate.

Louis and alcohol. You’ve worked with him and seen him a little more closely than most. Is he a massive drinker (like, every day) or is his alcohol consumption a little exaggerated? I’ve seen other posts referring to him as having a problem, which seems a cruel assumption when people don’t know the guy.

It looks to me like there’s a ton of boozing on tour (lots of stories from other artists who’ve worked with him confirm they all drink a lot when they’re all together) but L never looks as though he goes on stage p*ssed. He tends to have beer on stage with him but never drinks the whole thing (I kind of feel like it’s a bit of a nervous habit, to have a drink there he can grab but not to be necessarily knocking it back show). I mean he definitely looks like he drinks a lot post show but we never hear of him turning up to meet fans drunk or smelling of booze (and there dont seem to be any major boozy stories about him doing something bad because he was drunk - oh apart from breaking his arm!) so I’m on the fence about whether or not he does have unhealthy drinking habits or not. He seems pretty controlled and put together with the occasional post show drunken/stoned selfie!

What are your thoughts?

I guess I just want a healthy Louis.

Hello anon! Apologies for the hold up on this, I wanted to do a good and thorough job at responding because it is a sensitive topic, for sure. I’m not sure how much you dabble in substances, your age, or your experiences with said substances, so what I say may feel like it’s still too much, but yeah, I hope I can provide you with some reassurance. So, lovely anon, welcome to the show!

TW for alcohol and drug use

Drinking and drug use is heavily glorified, over indulged in, and used as a crutch in the entertainment industry, but often times you only hear the worst of it. You’ve got the stories of overdoses, media analysing stars because they look drunk performing on stage, and artists having a bad/shocking image because they partake in alcohol/drugs depending on who their demographic is (zouis weed video, for example).

It’s often used as a coping mechanism, to just take a bit of the edge off. This doesn’t mean that all artists use it to an extreme extent to where they can’t perform/can’t live without it (like it’s portrayed in A Star is Born), and don’t get me wrong, some do, but from what I’ve seen and my pals and colleagues in the music industry have seen, Louis doesn’t overindulge.

I mean, they’d have a drink (or multiple) for the same reasons as we do, to just… chill out the nervous system, or carry on the energy. Dissipate some anxiety before going on stage and while on stage, calming down your body and mind from the adrenaline afterwards, partying and carrying on a bit more heavily if you’re celebrating. I’ve toured, not to the same extent as L or H, but it becomes quite normalised within people from the artist’s direct team, their direct touring crew, to the promoters, to the artist’s personal friends. It’s SO much work putting on these shows and travelling and when everything goes well, it’s a huge relief and time for a beverage or a joint. It’s just kinda… very normalised, which is also really bad, but Louis, from what I’ve seen and heard, is smart with it.

You’re correct in saying he isn’t drunk on stage, he doesn’t smell like substances (only cigarettes but that’s a whole other story), and only has 1 beer on stage.

His rider is pretty standard too. Artists over order so they don’t need runners to go get them stuff causing a delay. And then they take whatever they don’t finish to the hotel with them or whatever. If you were famous you’d wanna milk the free stuff 100%, so yeah, if that is a cause of concern for some fans seeing the leaked LATAM rider, I can assure you that it doesn’t go that far between the amount of people in his band and crew. It’s just… very normalised, but doesn’t happen every night.

Louis also just loves to dabble in the devils lettuce (im super annoyed that I have a story about this that I can’t share but he’s fucking hilarious) and loves a drink. Alcohol is also super normalised and encouraged in the UK, and here in Australia too. So I see a lot of it and it’s just kind of a thing you… do. It’s more so if you don’t drink, people are like ????? Hahaha.

So growing up in a country where it’s very normal to drink a beer or get pissed, it’s kind of engrained, and then being in an industry where it’s also normalised, it’s 100% natural to lean into it. When I drink on tour, it’s certainly less often than artists, but it’s just a social celebration thing and it’s kind of expected to a degree. In my opinion, and from what I’ve seen of him going on tour, he doesn’t have a problem nor loses any professionalism on or off the stage. He’s very serious about making these shows good and proving himself.

When I was backstage with him at one of these shows, he was in a green room that wasn’t too far from my office. He is so LOUD and hearing his giggle and talking shit was so wild hahaha. I could smell cigarettes, and heard him and his band/crew do a shot before the show, but apart from that I think maybe they had one or two beers in the late arvo together. I don’t clean/service green rooms so I can’t tell you 100% how much they drank, but it was pretty lowkey. I also don’t think he gets stoned before going on stage (I would’ve smelt it). I think it’s purely an after show fun time which also helps him sleep from jet lag/adrenaline etc. like I mentioned earlier.

He eats well, and while not as healthy as H, still filling food and has an appetite (im talking during the day, not the wild amount of munchies he orders post show), so he’s not letting alcohol/nicotine curb his appetite to that point. He did have bottle service at his hotel on a couple of those nights, too. But again, the bigger indulgence seems to be post show. He’s overall still healthy.

From what we’ve seen, it would be very easy to spot if he was going too far. He’s 100% in control and uses it as a small crutch like a lot of us do due to the intense stress of our jobs. Tbh he also just likes a drink and a joint or two and there’s no reason to worry. Hell, I like a drink or a joint or two and im good at my job, know when to stop, and uphold my professionalism to a high standard. There’s truly no reason to worry, he’s just louder about it than the other boys (I’ve heard that Niall gets on it just as much, but we don’t see it).

Now, it may seem like im making excuses for the industry or for Louis or whatever, but truly, it kinda is what it is. There has been a small but significant shift in the industry around drinking and drug use though, and how it affects mental health, which is great. In Australia, we have a resource called “Support Act” which is an organisation that now has a 24/7 wellbeing hotline for artists, industry folks, and crew, and while it has been around since 1997, it is obviously far bigger and more accessible now due to technology etc., and has great resources. The UK similarly has “Music Minds Matter”, and there are multiple around the US. So there is definitely a larger awareness on the toll touring and an industry career can take on you, and I have no doubt that Louis is aware of his limits and has supportive and wonderful people around him.

Wow okay this turned into a whole other thing. Sorry!!! Hahaha. Look, in short, he drinks nowhere near as much as other artists I’ve worked with (8 bottles of top shelf whiskey in one night thanks) and unless we see any cause for concern, im sure he’s okay, 100% in control, and just living his best life as a 32 yr old successful rockstar. Try not to worry!