#ik I'm being dramatic but I feel I have the right

[martianbugsbunny]

sitting here in my Castle Of Kleenex w my Blanket That Does Absolutely Nothing and my Useless Four-Hour Cough Medicine

[dancerinthesky]

This particular population of Marauders fans can justify and contextualise themselves all they want, if they want. But as an aroace girlie, the sudden usage of asexuality as a trend just. Makes me sad.

[cathymee]

we're all wasting our time the earth should just explode soon <3

[peachyparkerr]

to be so lonely | patrick zweig x female reader

or marrying patrick zweig out of convenience <3

tags: fluff, marriage, kissing, talks of having kids, best friends to more, no use of y/n, not proofread so sorry but not, soft patrick because ik that man just needs some love and josh o'connor is softie and i said so

˳༄꠶ a little self indulgent fic because challengers nation will never die.

you'd like to tell yourself that you'd find someone to marry when there was a right person to marry. you'd also like to tell yourself that you weren't in a rush and you were perfectly fine being single or dating casually til that came. but of course, that wasn't good enough for your parents who were just itching to get you married off. they just wanted you to be taken care of, and they were so insistent on introducing you to some of their friends' sons, "just a few" they said. you didn't have the heart to tell them no.

that's how you find yourself here. hiding out in your childhood bedroom after talking to the umpteenth "eligible" bachelor from yet another, you'd lost count, party thrown by your parents just for this reason. these "eligible" bachelors weren't exactly the type of husband you were looking for. they were all full of themselves, too caught up in their jobs or alcohol, or just looking for a wife for the sake of being able to say they had one. you were getting fed up, and didn't know how many more men you could stomach talking to before your parents ended up arranging a marriage for you. that's why you were hiding up here, sitting on your bed, trying to wait out the party. anything to get a moment to breathe.

your solitude didn't last long until your door was opening. you hadn't expected to be found, but before you could stumble out whatever excuse came first as to why you were up there, you were met by the sight of a familiar tall, dark haired man appearing in your room. your childhood best friend and next door neighbor flashes his signature grin at you, and suddenly you can't help but feel so relieved.

"if it isn't the guest of honor. shouldn't you be entertaining another private equity investor?" patrick says, sporting his familiar smirk back at you, closing the door behind him.

"that or drowning out the sound of their voice by downing champagne." you laugh.

"oh you mean to tell me you're not fawning over these idiots? i'm shocked." he laughs sarcastically before sitting next to you on your bed. you make room for him and he settles him arm around you. "at least your parents are trying to give you options, i'll be lucky if i meet my future wife before they walk down the aisle."

"as if you're not meeting tons of women when you're playing tennis." you point out, poking his side.

"none that i like, none that i want to marry, and none that my parents would approve of anyway." he huffs. "call me crazy, but ideally i don't want to be married off to someone who just wants my money or my parents money."

"i get it. i have no interest in being a trophy wife yet that seems like all these guys my parents are trying to marry me off to. something just for show. is true love really that dead?" you sigh.

"maybe we just haven't found the right people yet." he says as he leans his head back against the headboard looking at you, waiting to see what you're going to say next.

"at least that's what i'm telling myself. i'm practically an old maid already. it's not long before i'm going to die alone, with no one to love me."

he scoffs at that. "now you're just being dramatic. you're not going to die alone, you're a catch."

"sure i am. that's why i'm only being offered up to assholes." you roll your eyes at his statement. you're being a little self deprecating, but you've had a long night. many nights, just like this one, in fact.

"anyone would be lucky to have you." he says, his expression serious looking down at you.

"in theory, sure, but...and I'm only saying this to you because you're my best friend... i'm genuinely afraid that no one's going to want to ever be with me and that i'll never find someone that values me enough to treat me like i'm actually deserving of love." you admit sadly, looking away from him and at your hands in your lap.

he moves from next to you to in front of you and forces your chin up to look at him.

"you are the smartest, kindest, and most beautiful person i know. you are deserving of the best love there is to offer. whoever marries you is the luckiest person in the world, hell i'd even marry you." he laughs but something in patrick's eyes almost has you convinced that he means every thing he says.

"you're just saying you'd marry me to make me feel better." you contradict but you can't help but feel your face flush at the way he spoke about you.

"i'm not because everything i said is true, and I know if I called my mom right now and told her I was marrying you she would cry tears of joy if it meant she gets to have you as a daughter in law. and now that i think about it..." his expression turns serious as he considers his next words but then he smiles big and genuine, "we should get married. for real."

"patrick, your mom has been pushing for us to get married since we were twelve, don't go joking around like that." you think he's being crazy and messing around like he always does.

"it's not a joke." his tone is serious but he's smiling. "why shouldn't we get married? we know each other better than anyone else, our parents would stop trying to set us up with horrible people, you get a husband and i get a wife. we won't die alone because we'd have each other."

"you're ridiculous. you're asking me to marry you, you realize that right?" you're completely taken aback by this. he's your best friend, has been since you guys were five years old, and suddenly he's propositioning you to marry him.

"i know i'm ridiculous, but you would be too if you turn me down. come on," he pulls your legs over his lap and scoots closer to you on the bed, grabbing your hands, "marry me. it's the best option."

you search his eyes for any sign of a lie. there is none.

"you're serious? you want to get married just because it's convenient? what are people gonna say about our fake marriage?" you question but your heart is just about beating out of your chest.

"not just because it's convenient. you're everything to me, and if marrying you means that i get to spend telling my best friend that every single day and making her feel like she's the universe's greatest gift to earth for the rest of my life, because she is, then why not? who cares if it's fake? nobody has to know anything other than that reason as an explanation of why we're getting married." he makes air quotations around fake but he's speaking tenderly.

"you don't even have a ring." you point out matter of factly, but you're smiling, and he is too because he knows that he's got you right where he wants you.

"i can get you a ring by tomorrow afternoon. but i'm assuming that's a yes? you gonna let me make you my wife?" he teases leaning in close.

"okay. i'll marry you patrick zweig." you smile and he throws his head back in celebration before kissing the top of your head.

you guys laugh in disbelief in what you guys just agreed to, but spend the rest of the party hiding up in your room talking about how you're gonna tell your parents and what your guys' wedding is gonna look like.

˳༄꠶

patrick keeps his word and shows up to your apartment with a ring the next day. you don't know how he managed to get the most beautiful ring you've ever seen in one day. you're in even more shock that it's exactly what you've always wanted. he slides it onto your finger with ease, and he's not surprised that it's a perfect fit. he thinks to himself that this ring he got for you looks right on your finger, like it's always belonged there. he intertwines your hands after, pressing a kiss to your knuckles wordlessly, before leading you to his car to take you to tell your guys' parents the news.

he doesn't leave your side the whole time, keeping a hand or an arm on you as if he can't be without touching you. your guys' parents cry tears of joy, like he said they would, and you play your part as the perfect fiancé with ease as they invite more and more people over to celebrate.

the parents don't hesitate to throw themselves into wedding planning and throw more parties in preparation. it's a lot really quick, but you don't seem to mind. he sees the way you light up looking through dumb magazines with your mom or how you smile when his dad breaks out pictures of patrick you'd never seen before. it makes patrick forget this is all technically fake.

patrick convinces you to move in with him shortly after. you try to protest, but he's already made the space for you.

"i can take over the guest room you know."

"no way. what kind of husband would i be if i made you take over that room? there's plenty of space here. besides, what will our parents think? we're supposed to be madly in love." he rolls his eyes as he insists, gesturing to the huge bed he has and the empty spots in his closet, but is trying to push down the thoughts of what it'll be like to have you close every night for what's supposed to be the rest of your lives.

"i'm just saying that as far as fake marriages go i wouldn't mind if you wanted me to sleep in the other room." you say with your hands on your hips, but sometimes saying out loud that it is a fake marriage, reminding you that it's not technically real, makes your stomach twist.

"but i want you here. i don't want you to sleep in the other room." he says with a pout, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. how could you say no now?

you don't put up a fight anymore, and he helps you put your stuff where it now belongs. when you go to sleep at night you both stick to your own sides. it stays that way for the first couple of months of living together, til one night you sleepily curl into him because you're cold and you can't sleep and he doesn't have thick enough blankets. he pulls you close because he runs warm, you fall asleep right away, with him falling asleep soon after. he's never slept better.

when you guys pick your wedding venue with both your moms there, he knows its the one from the way your eyes follow every detail and you hang onto every word of the tour. how you start to walk ahead of him and get excited. you finally turn to ask him what he thinks, but he's just about finished writing out the check for the deposit and handing it over to the person in charge. when he catches you looking at him, you smile and practically jump into his arms and kiss his cheek. he's never seen you so happy, and he's failing at fighting the way he's turning red.

˳༄꠶

after that the wedding starts to get closer and theres barely any time alone with all the celebrations and meetings and planning. sure, you guys get a moment to breathe back at your now shared place but usually fall asleep as soon as you get home these days. luckily, there is one fleeting moment where you guys escape to your childhood room once again.

your sat in his lap facing him as he sits up against the headboard, just trying to enjoy peace and quiet. he likes having you close like this, even if its supposed to be fake. you don't question it because part of you wants to believe he's always been touchy and you're still best friends. best friends that happen to be getting married.

after some time you remember something and sit up straighter.

"i almost forgot, i have something for you." you say breaking the silence and reaching over to your bedside table.

"you have something for me?" he asks curiously, his hands finding your waist to steady you. he watches as you pull a small box out and hold it out to him.

"open it." you instruct with a smile.

he raises an eyebrow at you, but you usher him to open it, and he can't resist you so he reluctantly pulls his hands away from your hips to take the box and open it. when he does, inside are cufflinks. but instead of ordinary ones, they're engraved, with his initials and yours. he feels his heart clench in his chest.

"wow...these are really nice." he manages to breathe out. it's the most thoughtful gift he's ever gotten from anyone.

"i thought you could wear them on the day you know and whenever you have special tennis events? i know we have wedding bands and you got me an engagement ring but i wanted to get you something special. something just for you." you say a little shy. he's done so much for you, and you guys aren't really ones to talk about feelings, but this can say more than words can.

"i love them." he says. i love you. he thinks.

you smile and he smiles back and you think that you could just kiss him right then and there. but before you can even finish the thought and convince yourself that you're making the right choice by not acting on it, suddenly your mom is calling you from downstairs to come help her with something. you both groan, but he tells you to go anyways. when you're gone, his heart is still beating out of his chest.

that night at your shared place when you're getting into bed he's quiet. he's beating himself up inside about how much he's in love with you and he can't say because this whole thing about fake marriage was his idea but he's going to marry you anyway and pretend everything's fine and have to be okay with that. how he should be bothered by questions like when are you guys gonna get a bigger place or have kids because it's way too soon, but he wants those things with you. he wants someone thats the best parts of both of you and looks like the perfect little mini version.

but of course you notice he's quiet. he's usually more outspoken, cocky and cracking jokes.

"are you okay?" you ask tentatively from your side, turning to him.

"oh... fine. just tired. " he faces you and the way you look at him so concerned, so caring, has him burning up, especially with the way he's lying through his teeth.

you reach out to him when you see how flushed he is, and you put the back of your hand on him to feel him and he's burning up. he burns up more, and you can't tell if you are too.

"you're burning up...maybe you're getting sick?" you're so concerned and you don't know if he's actually sick or if its something you did.

"maybe...i'm fine, though, really." he lies again.

"do you want me to sleep in the other room?" you suggest, not because you want to though, because not sleeping next to him almost is worse than him possibly being sick, but because you don't want to make anything worse.

"no!" he says a little too quickly and sharp. but he tries to cover it up. "stay."

you just nod and pull him close. he lets you, and immediately buries his head in your neck and breathes in the scent of your freshly washed hair. he's supposed to be strong and not so clingy like this, but the way he holds you tightly and instead of pulling away you rub his back makes him feel so weak.

you don't know what's wrong, and you don't want to make it worse or ask, so you just stay like that.

"you're okay. i got you, pat." you speak soft and sweet in his ear. and he believes you because he'd believe anything you'd say.

˳༄꠶

for the sake of tradition, you guys don't sleep in the same room the night of the rehearsal dinner/night before the wedding. and knowing this, you can't seem to keep hands off of each other the whole night. holding hands, his arm around your waist, your head resting on his shoulder. how are you guys are gonna kiss for the first time at the end of the aisle in front of all these people tomorrow and not lose your damn minds?

when parting ways for the night he hugs you tight, as if he's afraid he'll never see you again. he's also so nervous, not because he doesn't want to get married to you, but because how is he going to spend the rest of his life loving you and not tell you?

you hug him back just as tight, not wanting to admit you won't get any sleep without him next to you tonight.

"see you at our first look tomorrow." you say as you're about to part ways for the night.

"i can't wait to see your dress. do i get any hints on what it looks like?" he tries to joke to ease his aching heart.

"it's white." you joke back and laugh. he laughs too and you think it's the best sound in the whole world.

you guys reluctantly part ways, and as predicted, neither of you sleep a wink the whole night without each other.

tomorrow comes, and after he's all ready, he's shaking and fiddling with his cufflinks waiting for you to come out for the first look. and when he finally sees you walking towards him, he actually thinks his heart is going to explode.

you keep getting closer and your holding your breath but looking at nothing but him. and when you get closer his jaw actually goes slack.

"hi." you say softly and smile when his jaw is still dropped. you gently close it for him, and he melts a little

"hi. you look... wow... you're perfect." he manages to croak out, his voice suddenly stuck in his throat. you're always beautiful to him, but today, he swears he's seen an angel.

"i like your suit." you compliment and fix his bowtie for him hoping he can't see how your own hands are shaking. but he takes his hands and yours and looks at you for what feels like a long time until you realize he hasn't said anything. "what?"

"i love you." he blurts out. he barely realizes he's said it, but when he does his eyes widen and so do yours. he doesn't take it back tho. he just stares into your eyes and hopes you understand how much he really means it.

"you love me?" you whisper in disbelief. is this really happening?

"i love you. i'm in love with you." he confirms, trying to read your expression to see if you feel the same, if you're still going to go through with this wedding or if he's screwed it all up.

"i love you too. i'm in love with you too. " you admit quietly, feeling your mouth curve up into a smile.

he lets out a breath finally, and feels tears prick at his eyes and fall down his cheeks. you wipe them away.

"god, you have no idea how long i've wanted to say that." he rests his forehead against yours and pulls you close.

"great timing." you joke, putting your hands on his face. he laughs and you can feel his breath on your lips.

it feels like a weight has been lifted off both of your chests now that this is out in the open. suddenly you're both leaning in and your lips are inches away. he's cupping your jaw now, your eyes are locked on his. and when your guys' lips meet in a kiss for the first time in your entire lives, its soft and full of months of desire and unspoken feelings. it's reverent and its yours. he momentarily deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer if that's even possible, and you lose yourself in the passion before finally coming up for air. you're both grinning and out of breath but couldn't have asked for anything more.

and when you reach the end of the aisle a few short moments later, and he kisses you again, you both get to relish in the fact that this is real. that true love isn't dead and that the right person for them was right in front of them this entire time and will be for the rest of their lives.

i haven't written a fic in YEARS but i had a bad day today so #yea

art fanfic here!

[vesperaominosum]

OMGG I'm so glad!! ok ik ur writing a story rn but if u have any free time I have a story prompt: fem reader with Leon Kennedy (established relationship) and she's bratty with him, like she's got attitude and she's snappy, but Leon doesn't mind bc he knows how to deal with her 🤭🤭 but yeahhh feel free to make it smutty or not, it's up to you <333

Summary : Journey through the pages of Leon figuring out how to handle a bratty girlfriend and accepting himself (kind of, implied)

Pairing : RE4 Leon! × Fem Reader

Tags : Established relationship, bratty reader, self deprecation (Leon being dramatic), some levels of generally harmless toxicity, angst, fluff, hints of hurt/comfort (maybe??), no smut but allusions to what grown ups do and a couple of curse words.

Word count: 2891

A/N: I'm in the middle of working with lots of translations for work and it's multiple different languages so my brain is #freid, so this is super rushed and all over the place but I've been thinking about this prompt and this is what I have to sayyyy. Anyway, sorry for prompt being "he doesn't mind" and the whole fic HE DOES MIND VERY MUCH HES GONNA CRY IF YOURE MEAN TO HIM but this is the prequel!! he doesn't mind after all that anymore hahaha i hope you like it anyway

Leon knew how to handle you.

It didn’t come to him naturally, it couldn’t. You were always difficult. Throughout your childhood you recall most of your caregivers - nannies, teachers, family friends and whoever thought it was their duty to comment - uttering “It’s going to be really hard to find someone who’d put up with her” after witnessing another one of your spectacles. Kinder ones would say “She’ll grow out of it”.

And they were right.

You grew up to be extremely caring, generous, kind and an all-around outstanding young woman. Attitude dissolved into calm confidence and you were very pleasing to be around. It wasn’t just your family who noticed those qualities bloom – everyone loved to be in the presence of your welcoming warm, yet joyfully prickly energy. This is exactly why special agent Leon S Kennedy was drawn to steal your attention at first. It seemed like you had no baggage. It seemed like you were unable to have any baggage. Like whatever hardships were placed your way simply melted and disappeared to the sound of you laughing away all the troubles, making another lighthearted joke that put everything into perspective. You had a magical ability to turn all problems in the world into something meaningless. Perhaps, it was just Leon being in love that made it possible with such ease, but it did not matter. It worked. And he was in love. It wasn’t a crazy concept.

You made him want to become a better person. Not on a grand scale, none of that illusive bullshit, but in everyday life. He counted his blessings and watched out for your feelings, deep down he knew that your carefree façade isn’t all there was, and he was afraid to hurt you. He was attentive, he thought about the things he said and tried to go out of his way to make your day better. He wasn’t the best at relationships, but he genuinely tried. It’s the least he could do for someone who brought him back to life. That if he was around.

When he would go away for work, you wouldn’t speak for weeks, sometimes months. This arrangement made it difficult for your relationship to progress naturally. Every time he came back, you two fell back into the very much juvenile day one: blushing, smiling, flowers, dates, shy kisses that felt like the first… As much as he enjoyed it, he wanted more. It was scary leaving your dashing self alone in the world full of people who could… see you. He wasn’t the unreasonably jealous type, and you never gave him a reason, but it was only logical that you deserved more effort. The lack of which wasn’t an issue, there just never been enough time for it to feel natural, but oh how he wanted to move in together. Sometimes Leon would imagine you in his kitchen and it made him feel shy. He had to better himself, to learn all about how to treat a girl this deserving, then it will fall into pieces.

It was coming along, until he found himself between trying to figure out whether he’s doing too little as of yet or it’s too late as of now. The thing was: you fell into a weird pattern.

Every time he came back, you loved him up and down, held him in your arms and told him all about how happy you were seeing him so close, but approximately on day four… You would switch up. Out of nowhere you’d appear cold and dismissive. He never saw this in you before. A sweet sunshine of a girl he wanted to care for, wanted nothing to do with him. You made borderline rude remarks, paid him no attention and even avoided his touch. One time Leon tried to kiss your shoulder and you snapped at him for ruining your makeup. He apologized and spent a long time trying to figure out what makeup could he possibly ruin by gently touching your shoulder, out of all places, with his lips.

Regardless of your behavior, before he had to depart for work, you were always caring. The juxtaposition messed with his head and he had no clue where you stood. He tried to be understanding, he tried to be kinder and softer, he tried and tried and tried… Day to day, while avoiding dangers his work instilled upon him, he was holding onto hope that much needed space would settle it down. And you would be back to your kind and sweet self. And it did, for approximately four days.

It was day six of him being back and you planned to meet up with your friends together. Well, you planned it and Leon agreed, as he usually did. Leon was familiar with your best friend, not much with the rest of them. Your best friend was a clever girl, beauty and brains, witty but careful, very diplomatic, you sure knew how to pick them and knew that early, you were friends since school. You also had a small circle, just a couple of trusted friends, it was always quality over quantity with you. This thought is what made Leon sick to his stomach. He felt like he was slipping out of a place he didn’t fit to begin with. The idea of you two splitting made all the problems in the world heavy again. The weight that accumulated while he didn’t pay it no mind would crush him.

He tried to figure out what was wrong for the past month, falling asleep to same questions every day of his mission. Why were you pushing him away? Are you tired of waiting? Could it be that you lack courage to break up with him and want to give him a reason to take on this task? Did he scare you away? What if you grew bored of him? After all, dating an agent is exciting, but a life with one… What if you realized it’s a dead end? All the thinking convinced him to act. If you want him to take it further - he would. If you don’t want to - he’d change. He’s bending out of shape as it is to make you happy. Or at least to make you less of a… Less cruel.

So just a day ago he did ask you to move in with him. Prepared for any reaction other that the one you spit out, he stared at the wall, processing your answer. “For what? So, I get to wait for you in another four walls? No, thanks.”

“I could quit” – he said, not looking away from the damn wall. You laughed and patted him on the shoulder and you walked by, - “And do what?”

Right now, you were away, doing your nails or hair, he couldn’t remember. All this remembering and being attentive amounted to nothing anyway. It was slipping away and there was no fixing anything. All he wanted to know was why. All he was not ready to find out was how.

He met you outside of the restaurant, you were late and Leon didn’t want your friends to know you arrived separately. He didn’t want anyone else in the universe to register that you could be separate. To make it one step closer to becoming a reality. The idea was scary. You got out of the taxi, complaining about the driver taking a longer route, like you two were fine. Like you were okay. Like you didn’t reject his proposal to move in with him last night. “You know, I could’ve taken you…” – “To the hospital?” – you snapped, there was no malice, but the look on your face was something he couldn’t read. Was it just hate powdered with playfulness… Was it because you were about to face your friends and had to keep up the appearances? Were you really joking? “What do you mean?” – “You know you’re a terrible driver. I’m so not getting into a car with you. Like, ever.” – and you gracefully chimed into the restaurant. Leon looked like he was slapped, not because of your joke, but because of everything that gripped the hope of fixing that “us” thing he treasured was just shattered. One more time. He walked in after you.

You were radiant, laughing with your friends, who greeted him, exclaiming “The man himself!”. He felt sick. He couldn’t do it. Not in front of your friends, he couldn’t look at you with questions in his heart, and he never learned how to mask his emotions. Maybe that’s a reason you fell out of love. He excused himself barely saying a word and went to the restroom.

Your friend followed him with sorry eyes, honest concern on her face, before gripping your hand, - “That must be hard… Is he always like that when he comes back from… work?”

He washed his face with cold water, pushing wet hair away from his forehead and gripping the sink, Leon looked at himself in the mirror. His heart was heavy, beating with an annoying irregularity that made him nauseous. It was hilarious really, he wasn’t moved by any monstrosity on duty, yet this… He couldn’t afford another part of his life to turn ugly. It wasn’t fair. He did everything right and yet everything was turning out wrong. Now that he started questioning you, it felt like a part of him that he tried to build for you came crushing down. Maybe, had he known his parents and observed their relationship, he could figure out a better way to act, would be more convincing at being this version you would like longer. And he really wanted to be him. He didn’t care who he was, as long as you were there. But he couldn’t make you like him. Maybe that’s what you saw - there was a level of dishonesty in that act. Trying to appeal to your idea of a partner. Whoever that man was – he failed. And Leon was staring at the mirror at the only person he could be. The only company he deserves, it seemed.

Exhale. Inhale, exhale. Whatever goes.

He got out of the restroom and dragged himself to join you and your precious friends. No thoughts, until… Right before turning the corner where a large plant was hiding the hallway from the dining room of the restaurant, he heard parts of your conversation. It was your voice that made him stop. Gentle and kind, just like before. But what made him stay, was what he overheard.

“-no, no! That would never happen, and even if it does… You know I’m just happy he’s back. In one piece. I wouldn’t mind if he came back in more though…” – everyone exclaimed your name and laughed scandalized, - “No! I don’t mean it like that! You know what I mean, stop it! I just… He could be in a wheelchair and it wouldn’t…” – by the pause and laughter it was obvious your friends were making faces, you groaned, - “I hate you, stop making it weird. All I mean is I love him, okay? Whatever happens, in any shape or form, I’m just… I’m happy to…” – your voice got less confident and you started searching for words, - “You know, I get so worried yes, but…”

He felt like someone had to save you from being put on the spot, so he made his way to the table and with a quick “sorry” sat next to you. Everyone put on their best impressions of inconspicuousness and you looked down, almost shy. You noticed the change in his demeanor, he sat closer than you expected after walking on imaginary eggshells for days, intentionally letting his leg touch your thigh.

“Damn, did you take a shower?” – asked one of the men at the table looking at his wet hair, could be your friend, could be your friend’s boyfriend. “Almost. Got really car sick on the way here, had to cool down. Had a terrible driver.” – “Really? We thought you drove here!” – your best friend started fussing immediately, looking for a waiter to fix your boyfriend a real drink instead of a mocktail.

“Yeah” – Leon smiled – “I drove here”. You felt your cheeks burn, as your friends laughed at the joke, without a clue it was aimed at you, and even though he wasn’t looking, you could tell he noticed you turning red, which made his smile wider.

“Took you forever.” – you muttered, annoyed. Were you still trying to play this game?

It was hard to process his emotions. He wanted to squish you in a small ball for making him think all those ugly things, at the same time he wanted to kiss you for finally releasing him from this limbo. Knowing you didn’t want to end things made him euphoric. He still had no idea what was up with your act, but it didn’t matter anymore. He heard your quivering voice when you talked all about just how much you loved him, and he knew sincerity when he came across it. Had to learn it the hard way.

All he wanted to do was to pick you up on his shoulder and carry you away, the problem was – he still had no idea what he wanted to do with you. He was angry, but filled with joy. It was like waking up from the worst nightmare. With morning wood. Almost made him spiral for nothing. He would not let it slide. You were more silent than ever, sipping your milkshake, or whatever it was, and smiling. It was like you sensed you were in trouble and it made you happy. Amusing. As soon as he figures out what to do with all of this, you’re not going to be so giggly.

Evening was coming to an end, he opened the door of his car for you, looking at your much expected insulted expression, - “I said…” – you started, as Leon rolled his eyes and put his hand on your waist, - “Get in” – he pinched you, not hard enough to hurt, but it was enough for you to squirm away into the car.

The road was silent before he took one sharp turn and you followed it with, - “This has to count as attempted murder.” – “Don’t worry, nobody’s gonna find out.” - “Oh, they will, when they find my body,” – you took the front mirror and checked your makeup, - “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your body”, - he smiled, looking as you let go of the mirror and tried to hide your smile and act offended.

Yeah, ever since that day Leon knew how to handle you. Turned out all these people from your childhood were right, as they usually are: it was hard to find him, but it was worth it.

For months you waited for him to snap and drop the act, you hated seeing him treating you like you were holy. You hated seeing him trying to change his ways around you, and him insinuating that you want something else - someone else - with his modifications was insulting. You could have a boring gentleman if you wanted. You wanted original Leon, and you wanted him to want you at your worst.

To this day you remain clueless about the overheard conversation, completely convinced that it took you insulting his driving to get him there. You were prepared to get on his nerves, you always knew he’d show himself, crawl back into himself for you, to take what he needs, to make you you again. You put all your trust into it. And he did not disappoint. He picked it right up every time.

Even now, as he came back to his apartment after another mission, he was not surprised by the lack of greetings at the door. He was not surprised to find you on the bed with a book in your hands as well, sparing him one disinterested glance, - “You’re late.”, - you turned a page, - “Who even let you in?”

He smiled, crawling into bed, and taking the book away from you, - “I welcomed myself”, - he smiled into your lips, holding the book up, as you whined and pretended to try to reach it before finally wrapping your arms around him and returning the kiss. The switch up was always fast with you, and soon he was the one, who tried to pull away, as you kissed and tangled your body into his. He managed to hold you still for a minute, as you ran your fingers through his hair, until the playful look in your eyes softened as you noticed him looking at you with so much care that it made your heart drop. “I missed you so much” – he placed a tender kiss to your chin and you felt hot tears fall from your eyes and make their way into your ears as you hugged him, pulling him closer into your neck, you started crying silently.

He held you up and turned you both around to grip you tighter without crashing, letting you hide in his chest as he held you, caressing your back and kissing your head.

Sometimes you hated him for making you worry so much, sometimes you hated yourself for hating someone you loved so much, sometimes you wanted him to hate you to even it out. Sometimes you didn’t understand yourself and it was okay.

Because Leon knew how to handle you.  

[aliyahwritings]

TCH!READER ON THE INTERNET.

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

*This is during the two weeks that Rafe ignored her, here is the chapter.*

ynmodelz

liked by sarahcameron, topper and others

ynmodelz dump from the last 2 wks

view all comments ...

username01 perfect as always queen

username02 you play the sims wth???

ynmodelz @/username02 i have BEEN playing the sims are u kidding??

cleoanderson im obsessed with you 😘

ynmodelz @/cleoanderson i haven't stopped thinking about you baby

jjmaybank @/ynmodelz this is gay as fuck

username03 no rafe pic.............

username04 @/username03 I thought the same thing and she hasn't been posting him on her story too so idk what's going on

username05 are you still with rafe

aishapatel SHE IS OUT OF THE PSYCH WARD DOCTOR ‼️‼️

ynmodelz @/aishapatel my fingers are slowing approaching the block button.

username06 GUYS SHE POSTED DONT SMILE BY SAB ON HER STORY

username07 @/username06 THEY DEF BROKE UP 😭😭😭😭😭

username08 @/username06 JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN THE MIDDLE OF TARGET

username09 @/username06 they are now my roman empire

kiecarrera I need that cup. NOW.

ynmodelz @/kiecarrera omg omg let me send u the link so u can buy it and we can match

username10 @/ynmodelz notice how she didn't gatekeep. very cutesy very mindful very demure

username11 are you alright baby?

ynmodelz @/username11 yes why

username11 @/ynmodelz cause ur posting really sad shit on ur story

ynmodelz @/username11 can't a girl be depressed once in a while 😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣😣

johnbrledge I like the song you picked

ynmodelz @/johnbrledge donatella VERSACE 💜

username02 @/ynmodelz YN PLS 💀

username12 @/ynmodelz not a single nonchalant bone in her that's fs

username07 @/ynmodelz lets stay serious yn i beg of u 😭 i love her sm

yn_updates

liked by rafesquerie and others

yn_updates YN posted these two stories (edit: she deleted the second one)

view all comments ...

username01 i didn't believe it at first but i think she broke up with rafe

username02 pls don't tell me she broke up rafe

username03 she has been posting so many sad stuff on her story

username04 @/username03 ik im so worried

username05 guys what if she's js feeling sad for no reason 🤷‍♀️ like no need to overthink

username06 @/username05 exactly!!! like rafe was seen w her just right before he left nyc. they're probably fine

username07 @/username06 that's what i'm thinking and also the pics of them at kelce's party THEY ARE FINE!!! you r all such dramatics 🙄

username08 what if she relapsed yall.......

username09 @/username08 STOP BC WHY WOULD SHE PUT THOSE NESSA LYRICS

username10 @/username08 She def relapsed. She looked skinnier in her last post

username11 @/username08 i am so worried about her

username12 did anyone notice how no paparazzi pictures of her have been out for two weeks?

username13 she's so real 😂

username14 if rafe was my man id be having withdrawals too

username15 I don't like her 🤮

yn_updates @/username15 flop 🫵

username16 everyone on twt talking abt her relapse did she really?

username17 @/username16 Yes

username18 @/username16 not sure it's all js theories bc she looks skinnier, has been posting and deleting a lot of things about the way she looks and weight

username16 @/username18 omg no 😢 poor her i hope she gets better

ynmodelz guys i'm fine 🤍 im just being dramatic i promise

rafecameron

liked kelce and others

rafecameron 🌳

view all comments ...

username01 I LOVE YOU RAFE

username02 gimme a piece of dat 😵‍💫

kelce man is tweaking out fr

username03 @/kelce wait what

popeheyward Call me. Now.

username04 @/popeheyward lemme syd pls

username05 did you and yn break up?

username06 where even are you

username07 BRO CHECK ON UR GIRL SHES CRASHING OUT ‼️‼️‼️‼️

sarahcameron i hope the ground swallows you

rafecameron @/sarahcameron I wish you had a twin that ate you in the womb

username08 did yn relapse?

username09 i heard that u broke up w the model

chiararoro Handsome

username10 @/chiararoro MY ENDGAME

username11 @/chiararoro you should be w him instead of that fugly model

username12 mf hasn't seen his girl in two weeks and started reconnecting with nature 😭😭

rafecameron's are comment's unavailable

[isetfiretomyself]

Yandere Fem Villain X Hero Reader (G/N)

Damn! At it again with another non male Yandere 🙏 Ik they don't get as many likes but I like them and my blog is just a lil bit fun for me! I'm just being silly fr :3 But the next two fics will be ones requested!!!! A little bit of a clue but ones a pt2 🤫

Trigger warnings! Violence, Obsessive behaviour, Yandere behaviour, Rather specific but Reader thinks the Yandere is their responsibility. I don't condone toxic behaviour irl!

💥Yandere Villain who's always hated Heros. From a young age the system let her down and she'll never forgive them.

💥Yandere Villain who was beaten half to death by a hero, only surviving because he got distracted. (Yandere Hero crossover, anyone?:>)Her face was completely numb from pain. She was slipping in and out of consciousness and fully didn't expect to wake back up. That was fine, she'd accepted that death was going to be the only thing that was kind to her so she embraces with open arms.

💥 What Yandere Villain didn't expect was for you to turn up. Her archenemies! You had some great battles over the years, you must be there to see her last moments. Hero's and their dramatic behaviour.

💥Yandere Villain Who didn't expect you to drag her to safety and do your best to patch her up.

"What are you doing hero?" She groans trying to push you away. "Stop moving you're going to swallow blood just lean forward!" You say trying to remain calm. "Why...why are you doing this?" "I can't loose you! I hate everyone! I hate other heros, I hate villains, they all think the same! You're the only one who seems to have a shred of morals and you're blowing stuff up!" You let out a sigh, not realising you had so much pent up emotions. What you didn't know is Yandere Villain saw this as a confession. I mean you hate everyone but saved her, you must love her right!

💥Yandere Villain who refused to let you fight others anymore. You didn't like them anyway! It doesn't matter heros, hell even other villains she'll take on anyone for your sake.

💥Yandere Villain who even finds you out of the costume. Don't even worry about it! She's just here for you!

"Why are you here Lizzie?" You say trying to close your curtains as quick as possible. "Can I not be?" "You keep protecting me, I've got people breathing down my neck because of this! They think we're together!" "Are we not?" "..." "..."

💥Yandere Villain who thought you guys were together! She was absolutely distraught when she realised they aren't.

"What!? Why not!? Please, please, please give me a shot!" You had been looking for a reason to retire but dating a villain isn't exactly the reason you wanted.

💥Yandere Villain who refused to give up on you. She even killed off petty criminals to make your job easier! Isn't she considerate? That's a great trait in a partner!

💥Yandere Villain who wanted to be a photographer before everything went down so now she takes photos of you all the time! When you think you see a flash in your home, you're not dumb. You know it's her but at least she's not being destructive.You feel like you owe it to society to keep her distracted.

💥Yandere Villain who sees this as you liking her and maybe you do have a soft spot for her a little.

💥Yandere Villain who bought all your merch! Listen a villain with connections can be quite wealthy and she used to spend that on weapons but now it's all on you! She even got you guys matching knifes! (You had to convince her that matching scars were a bad idea)

💥Yandere Villain who was furious when she saw you on the news fighting some newbie villain! Not only fighting her hero but trying to take her spot as the top villain in the city!

💥Yandere Villain who hadn't committed much crime in a while but soon made up for it. It doesn't matter how much power that Villain had it wasn't anything compared to her rage.

💥Yandere Villain who steps closer to you , absolute covered in blood.

"Are you okay? That filth didn't hurt you ,right? I should of broken more of their bones..." She holds your shoulders and keeps asking you if you're okay but you don't respond. Completely stunned you just stare at the blood on the floor. Maybe you shouldn't of let her get so bad?

[wuwaworld]

tw: ooc Mortefi, married relationship, Mortefi the cleanfreak /j, insecurities, arguement, angst to fluff, crack

Mortefi x Reader prompt.

; please do not take this seriously. ik mortefi won't be like this in a relationship. it's all in good fun for me.

Mortefi who somehow married a reader who always let their things be carelessly placed around the house.

Mortefi who even WONDERS how in the world his mind could say "yes, they're the one." when he looks at them across the office. their desk a mess with papers scattered around.

—

“we're not going to that dinner date.” Mortefi taunts, taking a few steps back dramatically as he watches how you somehow make your already messy desk.. more.. infuriatingly dirty.

“w-what?” you blinked confused, pausing on your work as you look up to him with a frown.

“clean that, and maybe I'll change my mind.”

—

Mortefi who thought that taunting you with his words will encourage you to clean up little by little. but you only seem to understand his teasing taunts as painful jabs to your heart. his words making you more upset as days passed by, losing even the motivation to work properly in the Academy. much less talk to him when the both of you arrived in your shared home.

Mortefi who realizes that he was such an idiot. that he thought the same trick he pulled when he was still your boyfriend will work. for goodness sake, you exchanged vows with him. it meant that your relationship took a different level, so his (teasing) encouragement should take up a notch.

but Mortefi soon realizes how he really messed up, when he comes home a bit early that day— only to find you a crying mess as you spat out insecurities after insecurities. it hurt his heart to see you like that, and he loathed himself for being the part of the problem that made you cry.

—

“why even marry me?” you spat, teary and hurt eyes stare back at him.

“my love..” Mortefi slowly walks towards you, pausing his steps as he sees that you tensed up, “I'm sorry.. I hadn't realize that you have taken offense to my words greatly.”

you stood silent, trying to gauge the expression on his face. when the silents lulls the shared home, Mortefi glances back up to you. his legs carefully bringing him towards you once more.

“I'm sorry, darling.” Mortefi whispers, bringing your hand up to his cheek. his head turning to the side as he kisses your palm. his heart was swelling with appreciation and awe as you didn't step back from his touch. and so Mortefi's kisses on your skin became more profound and pleading.

“let me make it up to you, please.” he mutters, his eyes sincere and apologetic.

—

on the day onwards, while his cleanfreak persona would just like to let your desk burn with his powers. he held himself back. Mortefi instead began to clean up your messy desk little by little with shaky, gloved hands. it almost looked like as if it pained him to be in such near proximity of it.

“Mortefi?” you blinked, looking at your husband in mild surprise as you had just came back from a meeting.

“oh,” Mortefi looks up when he hears your voice, “greetings.. my wife..”

“......” you blinked again, this time dumbfounded as you hear his odd wordings. he was so out of character.

when you glance down at your desk and up to him, you could pat yourself in the back on how you kept a neutral expression. hiding away the laugh attempting to crawl out on your throat, the feeling of a somewhat sweet revenge from the way he made you cry back then. the same source of problem that Mortefi was facing right now.

“are you okay?” you mutter as you take a stride towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“...am I..?” Mortefi mutters, looking back at the scattered papers and objects in disgust.

—

suffice to say, your sweet revenge of making your desk even more messier lasted up to 6 months. before Mortefi had to forcibly sit you down on your shared home, a 20-page slide presentation on how being a clean and organized person would help you in the long run.

it's only up to you whether you'll follow his advice or not..

>:))))

[riinkun-art-stuff]

Howdy ho! I'm very excited to finally be able to share this illustration I worked on as part of this year's @bumblebybigbang for @tahnex's lovely and super fun fic (with no pain attached whatsoever), "Of Dragons and Panthers," which you can read here! As soon as I read the original notes on it this scene captured me so much I had to do something dramatic for it. It's been such a pleasure watching the whole collab come together, tysm for having me!

First time joining an event like this, and I'd love to again if the opportunity comes around hehe. Still a few postings to go on this one, the pieces before us this year have knocked it out of the park and I'm super excited to see the rest once they come around!

Made a few process cuts just for fun, which I left under the cut!

I did do a few sketches roughly before I started out, especially based on other parts of the chapter, but this particular composition was so fixed in my mind that I ended up just sticking with it. In retrospect, I would've loved to go back and do some more thorough exploration for it. Here are a few of the sketches I managed to fish back up:

I also was thinking of trying a few other doodles/another big piece, but ended up not really having the time between other obligations :')

And the sketch I finally settled on:

Inking was SUCH a fun process on this piece in particular. I'm a huge fan of how dragon!Yang's mane turned out, especially, and all the detailing on the head and around Blake's fur and such. Feel like I'm really satisfied w the particular way the line weight variations came out, and it's where the piece shines the most imo.

Panther!Blake, too. Oh gosh. I feel like it took me a lot of reworking to get her structure to a point where she felt very leopard-like, rather than any other type of big cat- especially around the head.

Colours were such a challenging part. There was a big feeling I had for that glow coming off dragon!Yang in the middle of the heavy rain- I love seeing that sort of effect in real life so that's something I'm really hoping to work to capture better as I practice. Trying to get dragon!Yang's slight iridescence in there and to balance out the lighting on panther!Blake's fur each took a long time, too- I'm only a pinch sad that a good chunk of it is covered by other lighting effects XD

Blake's rosettes were SO fun. Augguhugg.

In terms of backgrounds. HOO boy I was going through a strange patch in life while working on the background and final polish for this piece, which is why (at least I feel like) it looks kinda rushed. I have been practicing natural landscapes and doing some observational studies but still struggling to get those rock shapes quite right, which I think is a big make or break point of something like this. I did really enjoy toying around with inking on the foliage and foreground layers of the ground, though! And in the end, lighting and effects ended up masking a lot of the big weak spots :D

I think natural effects like smoke/steam, and rain, are big things that I got to practice more of in this piece, but also really would like to get better at in future. Esp since I feel like it's been a great opportunity to mess around with different colours and brushes that I use way less, which I'm always grateful for w painting. I think just layering the rain on its own ended up being about 10 odd layers?

I think the only other thing I would have loved to improve is to just help the piece feel more Bumbleby™ in the final look. I think I like the cool colours of the lighting for this particular outcome, but I also would have probably tried to have made things much clearer (ahem at the very least switch to yellow/purple) in the long run in terms of representation and resemblance. Ik that at least for me it is fairly easy to associate the two characters with dragons and panthers since I'm more familiar w the fandom lingo around these two, but esp for outsiders I feel like it's probably not great at conveying who they are, and why they are potentially in this situation.

I'd also love to try and find a shading style that still has a painterly quality but compliments the inking a bit better, rather than overpowering it.

I think that, on the whole, I am pretty satisfied with the piece and had a great time working with Tahnex on the whole collab! And I've also has a fun time reading his work and notes in return, and thank you so much for being so so patient with me even as my updates were slow n rocky at points :'D

That's about all I got, have a great day y'all! Still a few big bang postings to go, so very excited for those once they come around!

[seelestia]

If you really want to write something for me (crab 🦀) then how about some Kaveh fluff because he is way to relatable right now, especially in my current situation (doesn’t have to be though, I didn’t expect you to want to write something for me so get a bit creative with it lol) 🦀 🦀 🦀

— 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.

SUMMARY. when you offer a friend a suggestion on how to increase his efficiency, you don't expect your intimacy for him would also increase alongside it. (he doesn't expect it too.) (1.5k+ words)

CHARACTERS. kaveh + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff, angst with comfort, friends to ??? (when ur friend starts looking a lil too good for some reason...).

CW. references to kaveh's backstory, implications of crying and stress (kaveh our beloved <//3), reader wears reading glasses (cool stuff) and rambles abt naps.

THOUGHTS. ik all kaveh simps and kinnies want to give him a hug, so here you go! i cherish him vv much. to 🦀 anon, let's just treat this as like your commissioning me in a way (i hope this ficlet is alright?? i'm rusty hhhhh) ♡

✰ masterlist.

"Ughhhhhh."

So, the rumors amongst the people of the Akademiya are true, after all; that there can never be a silence that lasts too long when a certain man with blond hair is present.

"Gahhhhhh."

For someone who is still at the prime of his life, KAVEH sure looks like he has already aged a hundred years in the span of a single night. But according to the people at the Akademiya, this occurrence is nothing out of the ordinary and as someone who has known him for years, you can absolutely concur with them.

With a hand on his temple and a heavy sigh that weighs a thousand troubles, there is no other way for the blond male to express his frustration besides verbal means — and to that, too, you are a witness sitting across from him on the table.

Guess that's just the price you have to pay for agreeing to help him when he begged you yesterday. According to him, your "job description" is just to stop him from dozing off because a deadline from a client of his is nearing way too quickly for his liking.

Thus, here you are — watching him do his work while you do your own work on a table at his place (or more precisely, his room in Alhaitham's place but you don't want Kaveh to fly into a fit of rage).

"My head hurts," Kaveh groans.

"Because you've stared at that blueprint for hours now," you answer.

"My back hurts too," he complains again.

"Because you haven't changed your position ever since we started sitting," you retort again.

If anyone were to ask for some sort of proof about the frequency of Kaveh's grumbles, the fact that you could respond so naturally and quickly while barely taking your gaze off the documents spread out in front of you, as if you've done this so many times before (which you have), would have sufficed.

"[Y/N]," Kaveh calls your name in a dramatic whine, "You're supposed to sympathize with me...!" But you don't find the need to look up from your paper when you can almost feel the pout forming on his lips already.

It isn't as if you don't want to empathize with him, but that sight of his pout happens to be quite adorable — does it count as being mean if you want him to keep it on for a bit longer? Ha, what a strange feeling.

"Then, why don't you take a nap?" you give him a suggestion as you look up to spare your colleague a glance, "I'll wake you up in about 20 minutes or so."

That look of hesitance on Kaveh's face makes you raise an eyebrow. "Sounds tempting, but are you sure doing that wouldn't waste more time instead of saving it?" the man tilts his head questioningly with a frown as if he is unsure of the right answer himself.

"Idiot," you blurt out.

Thank goodness the circumference of the table isn't wide enough to interrupt your movements as you put down your reading glasses and reach out to pull on Kaveh's cheek gently. He, as the one on the receiving end, doesn't think the gesture is as gentle as it looks though.

"Hey! Ouch, ouch—" Kaveh cries out a little yelp that is a perfect representation of his surprise. "Let me ask you this," you release his cheek from your grasp and he expresses gratitude to the Dendro Archon like never before while you continue, "Why do you think you've been staring at that blueprint without being able to function properly?"

"Uh, umm," he stammers, "...Because I feel tired, maybe?" Again, he sounds unsure of himself but that is most likely because you've shaken off half of his brain cells by pinching his cheek just now. Fortunately, judging by that satisfied expression on your face, he seems to have gotten it right.

"Good," you nod approvingly, "Naps have been proven to provide relaxation, reduce fatigue, and increase alertness. The most optimal time for adults is between 10 to 20 minutes."

Kaveh listens to you intently, but that dumbfounded look he has on almost says otherwise. Noticing this, you decide to feign an aura of seriousness as you add, "I was being generous when I offered to wake you up after 20 minutes, by the way. I could've set it to 10 minutes instead."

"You're ruthless," he gapes.

"So, are you going to take a nap or not?" you stifle a giggle.

"Seems like that's the best option I have right now," your dear friend can only shrug his shoulders defeatedly. In order to prepare for his nap, Kaveh sets aside the blueprint he has previously spent hours working on and neatly folds his arms on top of the table.

"Sleeping on a desk isn't very comfy but it'll do," he heaves out an exhausted sigh. Not even one second into placing his head atop his folded arms, he is already missing the softness of his bed back at home — but he can't really complain, so he closes his eyes in silence despite the slight discomfort.

You observe, picking up the disgruntled noises Kaveh makes as he shifts around to find the right position to lay his head. This quiet moment where your banters with him finally die down is when you can truly see the burdens weighing upon his shoulders and your gaze can't help but soften.

Despite how empathetic he appears or how his dramatic antics always elicit a laugh out of others, you know Kaveh really has been through a lot — and you wonder if you didn't suggest he take a nap, would he have neglected his health to do more in a state of low efficiency? Does he often allow himself some time to rest like this?

"You're really tired, aren't you?" your voice lowers into a soft murmur.

"...Yeah," his answer comes out quieter than your question.

"Deadlines are killing me. I know it's meant to help me be organized and all," you see how he opens his eyes to glance at the blueprint mere inches away from his face, "But right now, it's putting more pressure on me than anything."

Kaveh exhales another drained sigh, "And I still have my debts to worry about too. God, when will this all end..." His voice eventually trails off into an evident crack like he is about to choke, "So many things at once, I feel like it's all crashing on me..."

Your heart clenches. He's about to cry, you note.

"Hey," you speak tenderly. "Don't frown so hard, it'll make your head hurt more," you extend your hand to rub soothingly at the deepening frown on his forehead with your thumb. "Oh, s-sorry," his lips try their best not to tremble when he lets that apology slip, but you're not here to scold him.

"Even if it all comes crashing down on you, you'll be able to push them all off eventually, right? One at a time," you say as you rub a few more circles on his forehead to soothe his headache. You're not certain on how he'd receive your words, so you purse your lips with a tinge of reluctance, "Even now, you're still working on it, aren't you? Don't beat yourself up for not reaching your goal when you're still in the process. That's not fair to yourself."

There is a moment of silence before you hear a series of sniffles. "Curses..." he mumbles with a pathetic chuckle, "Look at me, putting this all on you when I'm supposed to be taking a nap." Just as you're about to shake your head in denial, Kaveh's eyes flicker to meet yours — and you're momentarily stunned by how they look.

Mesmerizing irises in the color of red stare back at you; they're glassy as if a single touch would make them ripple and a dam of tears will burst from it, yet filled with unspoken gratefulness.

"And... thanks for saying that," he smiles, "It's been a while since people actually took my problems seriously, s-so um, shoot—" Darn it, his tongue just has to mess up at the worst timing! Kaveh picks himself back up with a small cough, "Uh, anyway, what I was about to say is that it means a lot to me... So, thank you."

He peers at you worriedly after finishing his words, concerned that you'll laugh at him instead. But rather than a laugh, he is met with the softest smile and Kaveh swears— he swears that his heart has never thumped this hard before. Never ever.

"I'm glad," you say and suddenly, he feels oddly exposed underneath your gaze. He has always been more used to your sterner yet caring side; so, this gentleness of yours is sending inexplicable warmth rushing through his veins.

Oh no.

How is he supposed to sleep now?

Then, comes the sensation of something in his hair and Kaveh winces before registering the fact that it's actually your fingers that are combing through his hair. The shock easily fades into relaxation and he lets out a sigh of contentment, "That feels nice."

"Should I stop?" you ask.

"N-no," his hand grabs onto your wrist almost desperately as if keeping it in place. "Keep going... please," Kaveh utters the last word so meekly you almost mistake it for a whisper.

You smile to yourself.

"Sleep well, Kav."

Perhaps, you uttered those words with more love and newfound affection for him than you realize.

And maybe he, too, realizes the same.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @hcikazu @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @lemontum @herdrops @lleoll @xiaosonlybeloved @chiisananingen @irethepotato @ainescribe @blooodyvampy @starlightaura @jihyuniepark @duhsies @maybemiko @lordbugs @sakkaku-squared @lupicalbestwolf — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged because of url changes or visibility settings + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

© SEELESTIA, may 2023. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

[bloodygyaruuu]

I've seen a few people ask other people about their shipping headcanons. What are yours for metadede?

i have been JUMPING to answer this question for like a month now so here are some pictures and explanations of my favorite idiots ever <3

(excuse the late reply, I promise I haven't been ignoring you. ik, very rude of me.)

my crazed reasoning here...

Alcohol Tolerance - I'm in full belief that Meta is the lightweight of the relationship. I mean, just look at him. That tiny frame can't handle the amount of modelo and beer he wishes it could (although he probably prefers sweet drinks in private). Dedede probably carries to his bedroom with some cold bottles of water, liquid iv, and a trash can prepped for the ever-imminent hangover awaiting them.

Love Languages - Out of the 5 love languages, I feel acts of service best coincides with Meta's personality, considering it's literally his job and how he is far more of an "actions over words" individual. Dedede best suits words of affirmation imo since someone with such heavy leader qualities most certainly knows how to captivate a crowd with his words which would seep into his love life. However... Dedede's eagerness to shower his partner in compliments and sweet nothings is betrayed by Meta's unbearable embarrassment and shyness when it comes to being treated tenderly. It's not to say Meta wouldn't enjoy being tended to, he'd just rather jump off a bridge than allow himself to be emotionally vulnerable, even with his partner.

Introversion vs. Extroversion - I think everyone with eyes and a working brain can agree that Dedede is extroverted while Meta is introverted. However, I feel these parts of their personalities would really shine when speaking to each other in a private, intimate setting. Dedede most likely leads the majority of the conversations between the two while Meta sits and listens deeply. Not to say the knight doesn't have his little quip or comment every now and then, but would prefer to stay silent and listen to his partner speak about trivial things. (although meta would have his moments of rambling on and on when dedede entertains one of his interests. ((autism maybe)).

Banter - I don't have a super in-depth reasoning for this one, but Dedede would def asks Meta random questions to make sure he's paying attention to what the pair are doing. In relation to the image, Dedede is asking him to help pick out which robe to wear. While Meta doesn't care that much about fashion, he's more than willing to participate because of how much love he has for his partner.

Taste Preference - I said in headcanon 1 that I believe Meta would prefer sugary, alcoholic drinks over anything else. I'm holding that truth towards caffeinated and soft drinks too. If he were to order coffee from a chain establishment, it'd probably be the color white due to the amount of cream, sugar, and flavor pumps in it. On the contrary, I feel Dedede would prefer teas and sodas. Maybe a nice chamomile to unwind and a soda to pair with the 50 pounds of red meat he likes to consume on the daily.

Arguments and Quarreling - They're each short-tempered and hot-headed in their own right, but the way they show their anger differs greatly. Dedede feels near-immediate anger that is amplified by his loud and bold nature. While he's more openly angry, this fury dies fast, considering his reasoning for the anger is often ridiculous, and he likes to outwardly dramatize his feelings (also getting these feelings out quickly helps him get over any irrational thoughts down the line). On the other side of the spectrum, Meta wouldn't yell out a string of slander when he was irritated although he'd try to logically prove why his view was the correct one. He'd bottle up his feelings deep inside him until they bubbled into a mess of resentment and grudges until he explodes with fury. Similarly to a star, he'd burn out quick- never exactly learning his lesson after this happens. The couple bicker frequently, but always make up the same day while over-apologizing for their respective faults.

Separated Thoughts - They'd probably HATEEE being away from each other for extended periods of time. If nobody stops them, the two just end up rambling on about the other until they run out of breath or everyone even partially listening makes their great escape. Dedede and Meta have their own work duties away from each other for often weeks at a time which puts a lot of strain on their yearning hearts. While they message and call near daily if one of the pair is on a work trip, they each miss the other's touch and kinda miss smooching to the point it distracts them from their responsibilities. (Galaxia would def tease Meta in regards to how much he thinks about the King in a romantic light.)

Body Temperatures - These two are extreme opposites in nearly everything they do and everything they are. Their body temperature is no exception. Everything about Meta is cold from his personality to his tiny hands, while Dedede holds in heat like a sweltering furnace. When the two cuddle together in the same bed, Meta melts into his partner's chest while the King tries oh so desperately not to throw the knight across the room when he's assaulted by freezing cold hands. When they hold hands, they create a perfect, affectionate temperature.

PLEASEEEEEE feel free to add on to my headcanon's here or even talk about your own hc's that I missed. I adore this kind of discussion. I couldn't get my 346 page list of hadcanon's and thought's into these characters in one post so perhaps I'll make a follow-up in the future, but I just love my near-middle aged man yaoi so much I just want to talk about it all day.

[lovebeatriceplz]

Ranking Arcane S2 scenes I've cried over; 1 being "ouch" and 8 being "that fucked me up💔":

1. Viktor's (first) death - They had me stressed from the start, eyes watered a little, my nose burned. I knew he'd come back because of trailers and spoilers and lol lore, still hurt though.

2. Caitvi breakup pt. 2 - the moment I started to miss s1 Cait, Vi's sobs were so heartbreaking, I think the fact that Vi is physically tough so the jab shouldn't have hurt as much, but it did anyways due to the emotional implications got me. Eyes watered, chest felt a bit tight.

3. Ekko sitting alone at the end - um ouchie, someone actually tied a string around my throat and pulled. Idk even know what to say about it, ts just hurt.

4. Vander and his memories scene - The scene where it showed Little powder and vi and their mom if I wasn't clear enough. This was when tears actually started flowing. And Remember me by d4vd playing in the back my goodness, I cried Quietly because I didn't want my mom to think I was losing it🙁.

5. The scene right after where they all hug- couldn't catch a damn break, I didn't really stop crying I just cried harder.

(Note: I binged watched this in one night, after that scene there was a lump in my throat that just stayed, dramatic ik😔💔).

6. Isha's death - "She was just a plot device-" We know babe you can stfu now. Idc bro, I loved her, and Jinx loved her, and that was so uncalled for because warwick was not stopped, so other than moving the plot forward she died for nothing. This is when I started crying audibly, my family was asleep at this point (I js know I'm getting dropped off at a psych ward soon).

7. The "Break the cycle" scene - had to replay it and listen to what was even being said cause I was busy crying, my ears started to itch at this point, that meant I was about to start tweaking dwg😕. The sex scene right after made me cry um- harder, because how did we go from feelings to freaky?.

8. Jinx's death - I thought I would've been numb by then, I wasn't. Quick context, I was binge watching and then it hit 3 am and I was at skl the whole day prior, so I fell asleep❤. I woke up at like 6, and decided to just finish cs I was halfway through the last episode, and the she does. The first thing I consume in the morning😭😭?? No prayer??no breakfast?? No journaling??. I sobbed harddddd, like my chest actually pained so bad, I know I sound crazy but listen. I was off for the rest of the day, I mourned her as if she was a real person, I think it's the reason that I haven't been able to rewatch the show yet, knowing how it's going to end for her. The last time I felt like that over a fictional character was in grade 8 when I read the hunger games for the first time and Rue died.

[theragethatisdesire]

dall'inizio - eren x reader, 18+!!!!

welcome back to the ti penso universe everyone!!!! this is a continuation/prequel of the little series we've followed from my first eren x reader fic. i was really interested to see how they met and ....unsurprisingly, it's a one night stand that doesn't turn out as planned. this one is also super fun because we get to hear from both eren AND reader alternatively, plus reader is a confident, bad bitch and we love that for her. this one goes out to @philliam-writes bc ik you love this eren as much as i do!!!!!! here's ur part 3 bestie >:)

if you'd like to catch up and meet our eren x reader, find them here:

(1) ti penso ogni giorno

(2) nel bene e nel male

pairing: eren x afab reader

wc: 6.7k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol/drug use (just weed nothing crazy), cussing, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a lovestruck idiot (and so are you if you're being honest)

title (as always) means "from the beginning" in italian i'm obsessed with them <3

-

“You look like a whore,” Ymir says bluntly, dragging her eyes over your outfit– or, lack thereof.

“It’s not that bad,” you wave her off, turning back to the mirror to tug at the hem of your little black slip. You do look like a whore, but it’s intentional. You haven’t gotten laid in three months– your friends have been calling you dramatic, but that’s a lot, okay? You’re in college, you’re supposed to sleep around, right?

On top of that, your last few situationships just haven’t quite…well, they weren’t bad, but they didn’t scratch the itch. You desperately need a fuck– not just a fuck, a good fuck, and you have a feeling tonight’s going to be the night. It’s Halloween, the international holiday for running around in basically zero clothes, and you’ve taken great care to adhere to that tradition.

“Are you a mouse?” Historia wrinkles her nose at you from her spot at the vanity in the corner. She’s in a dalmatian costume; cute, spotted ears sticking up from her blonde hair, blue collar tinkling when she cocks her head at you.

“I’m a fucking cat,” you mutter, drawing a black triangle of eyeliner on the tip of your nose, “I didn’t have time for a real costume.”

“She just wants to get laid,” Mikasa announces, pushing through the studio apartment door with a huff, arms laden with plastic bags that are making a tell-tale clinking sound, “it’s been like, two whole weeks.”

“Three months!” You correct her, defensive.

“I understand,” Ymir, appropriately dressed as Cruella de Vil, grins, “it’s been…what, Stor? Two hours?”

“Ymir!” Historia, scandalized, flushes a furious red. Both you and Mikasa are unphased; in the last four months they’ve been together, the three feet they’re sitting from one another now is the farthest apart you’ve seen them.

“I’m not a whore,” you turn around, hands on hips, “I just…it’s been awhile since I had good sex. Floch was–”

“The worst?” Mikasa finishes for you. You hate how well she knows you; even after less than two years of knowing each other, she can practically read your mind.

“Yeah, you may have mentioned that once or twice,” Historia turns back to the mirror, immediately disinterested. “Or a thousand times.”

You throw your hands up, turning back to the mirror to finish your whiskers. “So none of you can blame me.”

“While you two,” Mikasa points between Ymir and Historia accusingly, “have been screwing like rabbits, and you,” her black-painted fingernail finds its way to you, “have been trying to figure out how to sleep with half of Manhattan, I took the liberty of actually making plans for us.”

“Jean’s?” You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, grateful to put someone else in the hot seat for the night. Mikasa’s cheeks tinge pink. Busted.

“He’s throwing a party, yeah,” she answers slowly, trying to talk her way around her obvious attraction to him, “but it’s not those douchebags he usually hangs out with. My best friend from home, Eren, just got into town, and,” she looks at you pointedly, “some of his friends are actually cute.”

You’re unconvinced. “Pictures?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mikasa bites her lip mischievously, “but if you take a few tequila shots with me, I might be persuaded to show you one or two.”

You’re dubious. Mikasa’s definitely shown you a photo of these guys before, and you don’t remember a standout in the lineup. This Eren character, however…Mikasa has a framed picture on her bedside nightstand of them in high school, and you remember him being sort of cute. Dark, short-cropped hair, big green eyes so wide and earnest that he almost reminded you of a movie character. That picture was three or four years old now so…who knows? Maybe he’d grown into his features.

“Eren’s a no-go, though,” Mikasa continues, knowing your exact train of thought of course, pouring out shots of lukewarm, cheap tequila. Your stomach gurgles in protest at the smell as you accept yours. “He’s a nightmare to women, trust me.”

“Who knows,” Ymir pipes up, nodding her head towards you, “she’s a nightmare to men, so.”

“I am not a nightmare,” you narrow your eyes, “I just don’t like to be tied down, that’s all.”

“You’ll have to be at some point,” Historia argues, smiling when Ymir slips a hand into hers. You wrinkle your nose, uninterested.

“It’s 2018, Stor, not very feminist of you,” you tut, throwing back your shot and practically choking it down. Ick.

“I’m a lesbian, how much more feminist can I get?”

“Touché.”

“Just promise me you won’t get wrapped up with him?” Mikasa eyes you, still not trusting the glint of curiosity in your eye.

Ymir crosses her arms over her chest. “Are you positive you like Jean and not this Eren dude?”

Mikasa makes a fake retching sound. “Eren’s practically my brother. I’ve seen his bare ass more times than I can count. Way past the attraction threshold, trust me. I just…I know him. And I know you,” she glares at you, “it’s a toss-up as to who would do more damage to the other.”

“I’ll behave,” you placate her, throwing your arms around her shoulders, “…maybe.”

-

Eren might puke. No, wait, he’s going to puke– oh, no, just an unbelievably loud burp. Eren smiles contentedly, feeling much better even as it stinks up the entire taxi. Connie leans over Armin, scrunches his nose and squints his eyes.

“That fucking reeks, dude!”

“Sorry,” Eren shrugs, turning his head back to the window and ignoring Armin and Connie’s complaints. They were all a few beers deep- what did they expect? 

Eren’s lived a few hours outside of New York City all his life, but he’s never been, except maybe once or twice for field trips as a kid. He never remembered it looking like this, though: each little apartment twinkled like a star, giving the wall of skyscrapers the appearance of the night sky. Even as the cab screeches and jerks in the Lower West Side traffic, Eren feels like he’s in a spaceship, free and flying amongst the stars. 

Maybe he could talk to Zeke, convince him to move their little operation out of their garage and into the city. There was money here, right? And plenty of musicians who weren’t quite good enough to get signed by any major labels…

“Mikasa says she and her friends will be over in five,” Armin squints at his phone screen, holding it far away from him like an old man to type a response. Eren nearly rolls his eyes.

“Would you just get some fucking glasses already?”

“Annie said they made me look nerdy,” Armin shrugs. Connie groans.

“You two broke up like, a year ago–”

“Six months,” Armin corrects him, eyes growing sadder by the second.

“Okay, six months, whatever, we’ve got to get you laid tonight, dude.”

Eren lets the two slip into an argument about the “appropriate amount of time” to wait to sleep with someone after a breakup, much preferring his unusually contemplative mood to Connie and Armin’s bickering after their four-hour train ride together. He smiled to himself; God, it would be good to see Mikasa again. He wouldn’t have admitted it at gunpoint, but she was practically his mom growing up, and she’d been gone for over a year, only visiting for Christmas. Rumor had it that she’d been spending a lot of time with Jean as of late, so he needed to see what that was all about, too.

And who had Eren been spending a lot of time with lately? No one but bar rats and slim pickings from the frat parties at Trost University near his hometown. When was the last time he’d even gotten laid? A month? Two? Her name had been Jenna…no, Jenny? Josephina? Fuck, he should remember that. Eren needs to get laid, regardless, but if he dares to step near any of Mikasa’s friends, she’ll kill him, he knows that from experience. Then again, maybe this weird-ass Jean situation would come in handy. If Mikasa ends up distracted…

“Excuse me!” Armin disturbs his thoughts once again; Eren scowls. “Excuse me, sir? I think we’re here.”

Eren pays for the cab. Armin had bought the train tickets and the chain-gang costumes they were all currently sporting, and Connie was always flat broke, insisting his music career would work out soon. That could be Eren’s fault, though: Connie was one of his and Zeke’s first “clients”. None of them even bothered keeping up with the money exchanged between each other anymore; Connie had been in their kindergarten class, Armin’s mom had changed all of their diapers, Mikasa’s parents were the “cool parents” that let them smoke weed in the backyard, Jean’s mom made the best potato salad. They were a little family, separated by life and college at the moment, but a family all the same. Eren felt a little tingle of appreciation in his stomach as they climbed the stairs to Jean’s walk-up.

“Jaeger!” Jean was dapping him up and smacking a fist against his back before Eren could even properly look around the dark apartment.

“Kirstein,” Eren returns his embrace and has to shout over the music, suddenly smacked with a wave of homesickness at the familiar smell of weed and Jean’s tacky Hugo Boss cologne.

“Make yourself at home, dude,” Jean’s nearly inaudible over the thumping house music. He’s got some stupid mummy costume on that exposes his lean stomach, basically just shirtless and wrapped in toilet paper. Eren stifles a laugh, looking around the apartment for any other familiar faces.

Reiner approaches him next, a goofy, drunken grin splitting his face wide open, tackling Eren in a bear hug. Most of the greetings go like that; I miss you! How are you? How’s the business? Are you still in Shiganshina? It makes Eren’s chest tight, makes him miss the closeness of the people he loves. He was just always fucking working, helping Zeke with paperwork, running around town talking to clients, pulling at his face late at night looking over the finances of everything. He feels wound up, ready to burst, but the blunt and beer Bertholdt just handed him should fix that, at least somewhat. He needs…fuck, he needs to get laid.

His eyes search the room, looking for the one person he’s looking most forward to seeing, but he doesn’t find Mikasa where he expects.

She’s perched on Jean’s lap, giggling over her drink as Jean waves his arms wildly, telling her a story. That bizarre sight only holds Eren’s gaze for a moment, though, because there you are beside her, grinning wickedly with one of those stupid vapes between your teeth.

Eren stops dead in his tracks, speechless. Where do they even make women like that? He goes bottom to top, letting himself be impressed with how well you’re balancing on those high heels, ravishing every naked inch of your exposed legs until he reaches the hem of– fuck, is that just lingerie? Whatever little black thing you’re wearing, it makes his heart race, makes his pants tight. It’s low-cut in the chest enough to tease, a little collar around your neck, and your face…even your face makes him hard, so beautiful in the low lighting, eyes glimmering. You look evil and fun and sexy all at once, and Eren’s sold within the first ten seconds of seeing you.

Before he can make a beeline in your direction, he realizes he’s taken his gaze off of Mikasa and Jean long enough for them to approach him, Mikasa throwing her arms around his neck.

“Eren!” She squeals in his ear, clearly already drunk. Eren chuckles, trying to rein himself in enough to hold a stable conversation. The little black dress flashes behind his eyes as he smiles down at Mikasa.

“Hey Mika,” he ruffles her hair, making Mikasa grumble and reach towards her head to right what he’s ruined. His eyes wander back to you; you’re watching him too, sizing him up. He wonders if you like what you see, pulls at the zipper of his orange jumpsuit to inch it down, reveal some of his stomach. Eren’s not conceited per se, but he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the gym, and he knows it shows. As your gaze travels down to where he holds his zipper, Eren can’t look away, knows it must be obvious that he’s distracted.

“Bro,” Jean snaps his fingers in front of Eren’s eyes, looking over his shoulder to see what Eren’s staring at. He turns back with a smirk. “Yeah?”

Fuck, now Mikasa’s looking off in the same direction, returning her eyes to him with a scowl. Drunk or not, she never fails to scare the shit out of him. “No. No fucking way, Eren.”

“What?” Eren sips his beer innocently, shrugging. He was only staring…for now.

“She’s my best friend, Eren, no,” Mikasa says, firmer this time.

“Thought I was your best friend?”

“Didn’t she just break things off with Floch like…” Jean trails off at the withering glare Mikasa shoots him, turning red.

“She’s off-limits.” Eren nods, her words going in one ear and out the other. Mikasa’s scolded him before, and she won’t stop anytime soon, so what’s one more? She can read his mind, evidently, because she reaches up and pinches his cheek, yanking him down to her level.

“Ow!”

“Off. Fucking. Limits.” Mikasa seethes. “Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah I- fuck, let go! I hear you Mika,” Eren rubs his sore cheek, frowning. He can see you laughing at him, eyes barely visible over the edge of your drink. Great, Eren thinks; getting a talking-to from Mikasa like a child was not the first impression he wanted to give you.

Mikasa’s grabbing Jean’s hand and pulling him back towards the crowd, presumably to play guard dog for you, but before she can get him too far, Jean leans back towards Eren, cups a hand around his mouth.

“She’s single, bro,” Jean manages to get out before Mikasa pulls harder, “go for it!”

Eren grins. If Mikasa wanted to bite his head off for this, now he could blame it on Jean. What the hell was he supposed to say to you, though? You’re leagues above the girls he’s been pursuing. If Eren’s honest with himself, he’s intimidated by you, but his only solution is to throw some more of his beer back for liquid courage. He’s always loved a challenge.

When he pulls the cup away from his face, you’ve appeared in front of him, smiling demurely and nearly making him jump out of his skin.

“Hi.” 

-

The second you saw him, you were hooked. He was gorgeous, dark hair pulled into a little half-bun on the back of his head, pretty eyes, and tall and broad to boot. He was almost stern-looking, dark eyebrows shielding his eyes. Dark and mean, just the way you like them.

Mikasa had given him a massive hug, interrupting the clear eye-fucking you were engaged in across the room; so that was Eren? Her long-lost best friend that was always too busy to visit? The happy kid from the picture? You watched her scold him, giggling to yourself at how childlike he became, crumbling under Mikasa’s pinch and pouting when she let him go.

You had no choice, really. Your promise to Mikasa had flown out of your mind the moment you saw those full lips pursed around the blunt, blowing out a puff of smoke, stretching into a wide, dangerous smile. You’re an only child and admittedly, a bit spoiled, so when you want something, you get it.

“Hi,” you can’t manage anything more clever, not face to face with his bare chest. Jean’s apartment is stuffy, and you catch the gleam of sweat on his chest in the LED lighting. You lick your lips.

“Hi,” Eren responds stiffly, looking as surprised as if you’d just punched him in the gut.

“You’re Eren, right? Mikasa’s friend?”

Eren hits his blunt again, nods slowly. “I don’t think we’ve met though, you’re…?”

You give him your name. He smiles and repeats it, rolling it around on his tongue and getting a taste for it. You can already see little hearts in his eyes, it makes you grin to yourself. You had expected him to put up more of a fight; there’s a dozen girls in this room alone that would fall all over themselves to get him in bed, but he’s enraptured by you, eyes never leaving your face. You’ve got him. 

“A cat, huh?” Eren addresses the costume, dipping his head in the direction of the little black ears on your head. You’re suddenly embarrassed, feeling a bit silly.

“I, uh, didn’t really have time to shop,” you shrug, pulling at the hem of your dress. Eren’s mouth quirks up. “A prisoner?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get to pick. I like yours, though, it fits you.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “A cat fits me?”

“Yeah,” Eren says, growing surer by the second, “I don’t know. Just fits. S’cute.”

You’re embarrassed by the giddy flutter in your stomach. God, he’s delicious. “You think I’m cute?”

“I think lots of things about you,” Eren replies, voice low and sultry and hardly audible over the music. His eyes widen like he hadn’t exactly meant to say that out loud, but it’s too late now. You grin, all teeth and bad intentions.

“We just met,” you point out. Eren’s confidence has returned, he boldly brings a hand to the spaghetti strap of your dress. His fingers are hot– why do men always run so hot? His touch almost burns.

“You wore this,” he rubs the fabric between his fingers, “and expect me not to have a few thoughts on it? Wasn’t that the point?”

The breath leaves your lungs. Your confidence fizzles at the same rate as your arousal grows. There are plenty of hot guys here, but you might have jumped into the deep end with this one. Something flickers in his eyes, something hungry.

“Why don’t you tell me about these thoughts of yours?”

“I will,” Eren nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, “later.”

“Later?”

“We’re at a party,” Eren takes the empty cup from you, replacing it with his own, much larger hand, “shouldn’t we at least dance a little?”

Before you can argue, he’s pulling you out into the center of Jean’s obnoxiously spacious living room, into a jungle of sweaty, gyrating bodies. You’re close enough to the speakers now that the bass pounds through your body to the same rhythm as your heart thudding in your chest. The crowded, makeshift dance floor pushes you into Eren, skin against skin. You have a fleeting moment to be grateful that you’re likely now obscured from Mikasa’s view before a pair of strong hands around your hips prevent any more conscious thoughts from taking shape in your brain.

“One of my thoughts,” Eren’s right beside your ear now, voice echoing in your brain, “is that I like you. Like this body.”

“T-thank you,” you stammer out, wanting to facepalm at not only your stupidly simple response, but the weakness in your voice.

“Move it for me.”

You obey him, letting your body move with the music, trying not to get too caught up in whether or not you look ridiculous with how you’re pressing your body into his, arms thrown around his neck. Eren seems to like the way you move on him, pushing and pulling your hips in the rhythm you’ve set, looking down his nose at you with bloodshot eyes.

Your panties are growing wetter by the second; he’s intoxicating, the feel of him against you, firm and tacky with sweat. His hands are tracing up your sides, dragging slowly as if he’s memorizing the curves of your body. You haven’t known him long enough to want him the way that you do, humiliated by the carnal desire simmering in the pit of your stomach, but you’ve had enough tequila not to care. The whole thing is too similar to what you really want, and you make it through a solid seven or eight songs before you can’t take the stifling tension between the two of you any longer, thick enough to cut with a knife.

You lean up on the tips of your toes, wobbling in your heels, and grab him tight around the neck, pulling him to you. Your lips finally meet; Eren’s slow to respond as you’ve caught him off guard, but he catches on quickly, lips falling open so you can kiss him deeper. His lips are softer than you expect, supple and giving as they move with yours. You trace your tongue through his teeth, hardly suppressing a whine. He tastes good, like cheap beer and weed and lust. You drink him in, a satisfied hum buzzing in your chest.

Without warning, Eren practically rips you off of him. “Not here.”

He’s dragging you through the people around you, knocking them out of the way and not stopping to apologize when he gets offended looks. He pulls you into what you know to be Jean’s room, wastes no time in shoving you up against the door and blocking you in with his wide shoulders.

You swallow hard; you’ve underestimated him.

“Another one of my thoughts,” Eren mouths at the area beneath your ear, makes you groan, “is that you’re pretty. Like, very fucking pretty. Bet you’re twice as pretty under this dress.”

“I think you’re pretty, too,” you manage to say, forcing the words from your mouth. Eren chuckles, smiling against the shell of your ear.

“C’mere,” he tilts your chin up, kissing you again. It’s troublingly gentle, long and languid as your mouths move against one another. He kisses you like he loves you; the thought makes alarm bells ring in your head, and you nip at his bottom lip to break up the emotional momentum, sink your teeth into it. Eren pulls back, chuckling down at you. “You’re mean.”

“Only a little.”

“Is that what you like?” Eren thumbs at your mouth, slipping his finger between your lips. You suck greedily, rubbing your tongue against the roughness of his fingertip. “Like it a little mean? Between you and me, I like ‘em a little mean, too.”

You nod, gently biting on his thumb. Eren groans, a low rumble deep in his chest. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you.”

He’s pulling your dress over your head before you can stop him, sucking in a sharp breath when he gets an eyeful of your lace-clad breasts, the tiny thong you’ve slipped over your hips. Stronger than you’d expected, Eren pulls you up to wrap your legs around his waist, slamming your back against the door with a loud thud and knocking your stupid cat ears to the floor. You can hear a few sounds of surprise from outside; surely that got a few people’s attention, but you’re lost in him, whimpering at the feel of his jumpsuit costume rubbing against your clothed center.

Eren’s sloppy, placing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing to suck a bruise underneath your ear. You gasp, canting your hips into his stomach, desperate for friction. You’re normally not so uninhibited, but Eren’s doing something to your head, has your mind spinning. He’s carrying you over to the bed, dropping you down onto Jean’s sheets. Eren leans down to pull your heels off, a sweet gesture if you could find the presence of mind to acknowledge it. You feel a flicker of guilt about doing this in Jean’s bed, but when Eren starts sliding a hand up your thigh, it flickers away into nothing, swallowed by your bottomless want. 

“Look at that,” Eren smirks, rubbing his fingers over your panties, “soaked. This all for me?”

“Mhm,” you whine, hips jerking up towards his touch. It is for him, it was from the moment you laid eyes on him, and you both know it. His hands are everywhere: unclasping your bra, pulling your panties down, palming at your tits. You arch your back up to him, offering him your chest; he responds by closing down on one of your nipples with his teeth.

“So pretty,” Eren’s murmuring around the mouthful of your flesh he’s got, twisting the neglected nipple of your right breast between his fingers, “so pretty.”

“Eren,” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of its bun and wrapping the hair band around your wrist. His mouth is hot, scalding, even, but you pull him closer to you anyway, pressing his face into your tits. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, letting you move him this way and that, show him what you like and how to pull those pretty moans out of your mouth. Before long, he’s kissing his way down your stomach, hands gripping your hips like a lifeline.

“Want a taste,” Eren sounds more like he’s talking to himself than to you, “need to taste this pussy.”

“Eren,” you reach for his hair, trying to pull him back up to you. While you’d love to see what the mouth that had just kissed you breathless could do between your legs, the thumping music outside is an annoying but consistent reminder that there’s an entire party outside and you’re in Jean’s bedroom. The clock’s ticking. “Want to feel you, we don’t have time for–”

“Don’t have time?” Something wicked lights Eren’s face up as he shimmies your panties down your legs. “Believe me, it won’t take long.”

“Eren,” your protest is feeble but earnest, and you make another attempt to reach for him when a long, thick lick up your center renders you near-unconscious. You moan, a little louder than you would have liked to.

“See? Gonna make you feel so good, trust me,” Eren’s punctuating each word with a little kiss somewhere on your pussy: your clit, your lips, right over your fluttering entrance. You have no choice but to whimper and nod, canting your hips up towards him. You look down, immediately regretting it: Eren’s wiggled out of his costume, naked and beautiful and staring up at you from between your legs. You’re hardly able to swallow the inhuman sound that threatens to rip from your throat.

Where he’d been cool and calculated pulling you onto the dance floor, you quickly learn that Eren eats pussy like he can’t control himself, like his life depends on it. His massive hands wrap around the tops of your thighs, securing you against his face as you try to squirm away. He licks into you enthusiastically, moaning against you at the taste, sending a succession of vibrations through you that go straight to the fire in your stomach.

When his lips close around your clit and suck hard, you have to slap a hand over your mouth to stop a wail from reaching the ears right outside the door. Eren takes the opportunity to sneak a finger into you, curl it right against that gummy spot in your walls that has you seeing stars. As he works his finger in your cunt, he kisses his way back up to your mouth, greeting you with a sloppy kiss.

“Feels good, right?” Eren’s face is literally dripping with you, a sharp-toothed grin barely visible in the dim light.

“Feels good,” you whimper, daring to look down to where he’s grinding his palm against your clit. You can see the veins of his muscular arm straining as he pumps in and out of you; it’s a lewd sight, one that makes your head spin. “‘S so much Eren, I— fuck.”

“Yeah?” Eren’s smile grows darker, another finger slips into you easily. You’re practically dripping onto the sheets at this point, rolling your hips against his hand with your mouth hanging open. It’s humiliating but too gratifying to stop. “Gonna cum for me? You can do it, give it to me.”

“God– close, so c-close,” you can barely find the words to respond, the pressure in your belly swelling at an alarming speed. You’re going to squirt, you know you are, should move off of Jean’s bed or warn Eren or do something, but it’s too late.

You thrash in Eren’s grip, cumming so hard you think you can taste blood where you bite your lip. You can feel the wetness spraying from you, soaking Eren’s hand and the sheets and your inner thighs, can distantly hear your pitiful cries, but you’re powerless to do anything about it until the mind-numbing orgasm’s run its course. Eventually you do settle, babbling incoherently into Eren’s shoulder about Jean’s ruined sheets, about how you’re sorry for making a mess. Eren shuts you up with his mouth on yours; you can hear the distant rip of a condom wrapper.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he laughs, rolling on top of you and lining himself up, “gonna have to keep you.”

Before you can even think to offer to return the favor or make a sarcastic remark about how you’d never let anyone keep you, Eren’s pressing into you, and your mind short-circuits. Shit, maybe you’d let him keep you.

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him in the darkness, but he’s big, bigger than you’ve ever had before, and big enough that you realize this when he’s not even halfway in.

“Eren…it’s so– s’big,” you hiccup into his shoulder, fingernails clawing into his biceps.

“Is it too much, baby?” You hate pet names, hate them, but from the greek god splitting you open right now, you love it, want to lick the word right out of his mouth and taste it on your own tongue. The genuine concern glittering in his eyes, the little furrow between his brows as he pauses, frowns down at you, fuck, you might be in love.

“No, not too much– feels good.”

Eren’s grin is feral. “Yeah? Tell me.”

“Feels so fucking good,” a little giggle sneaks out from your clenched jaw, Eren smiles wider and cups your face to kiss you again, far too gently to match the way he’s stretching you, bullying your cunt into the shape of him.

“Feel full?”

“Mhm,” he’s bottomed out now, impossibly deep, and you give him a little roll of your hips to show him just how okay you are, that you’re ready to see what he can really do.

“You’ve got–” Eren rolls his hips experimentally, punches a moan from your chest– “the best fucking pussy. So tight for me.”

Ordinarily, dirty talk makes you cringe, but something about the way he words things, as raw as if his inner monologue is spilling out of him, turns you on, makes your cunt clench down around him. That makes him happy, he sucks in a breath of air and starts pounding into you hard enough to make tears well in your eyes, hard enough to make you squeal in a way no one else ever has.

“Taking me so fucking well, baby,” Eren’s hands are grabbing your face, his lips pressing into your forehead, “never gonna let this pussy go.”

You grant him a long moan of agreement, so cockdrunk that for now, you’re more than happy to sign your freedom away to stay in this bed, pinned underneath him for all of eternity. He’s fucking into you so deep he’s practically in your throat; your breath comes out in short little huffs, choking on the brutal pace of his fucking. And god, he’s so big, but you’re taking him somehow, like you were made for it.

Eren moves one of his hands away from his face to swat your fingers away from where you’re digging into his arms, surely close to drawing blood.

“Fucking hurts,” he hisses, “just as mean as you are pretty, y’know that?”

He easily manhandles your arms above your head, pinning them above you by your wrists. The way he stretches his body to do so changes the angle he’s fucking into you at; now he’s hammering into the spot inside of you he’d found far too quickly with his fingers. Your eyes shoot open at the change, and Eren doesn’t miss it. He smirks.

“Right there?”

“God, yes, please– right there,” you sound pathetic, the few surviving rational brain cells you possess are laughing at you, but there’s no help for it. He’s already got you spiraling towards cumming again, the wetness from your cunt creating a sucking sound where he’s moving in and out of you.

“Fuck, m’close. Think you can cum again for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, tilting your head up to nip at his neck, a tear or two running down into your hairline. You can do anything he asks, you think, anything in the world just for him, for how he’s making you feel. Eren practically growls, pistoning his hips faster.

“Need you to cum for me, okay beautiful? Cum right now.”

“S-so close– I– Eren, oh my god,” you’re babbling, eyes rolling back into your head. Eren smashes his lips to yours, grinding his hips into your clit and shoving you over the edge for the second time that night. You sob and convulse around him, back arching desperately and pressing your chests together. You’re seeing stars as he fucks you through it, grunting in your ear and growing sloppy as you tighten around him.

“Fuck!” Eren bites into your shoulder, hard enough to bruise, stilling his hips as deep inside you as he can manage. Your fucked-out brain wants the condom off, wants to feel the full warmth of him as he cums inside of you, grinding his hips against yours. Before he’s finished, Eren moves back to your mouth, kissing you deep and slow, a kiss that means a whole lot more than what you’ve just done together as a party rages just past the door.

As you’re panting beneath him, trying to ground yourself and come back to reality, Eren rolls off of you, whips the condom off, and to your surprise, takes you into his arms, pulls your head to his chest.

“You okay?”

You’re so blissed out right now that it’s a laughable question, and you giggle, watery and light into his chest. “More than okay.”

Eren laughs at that, a real laugh from deep in his stomach. The sound of it makes something warm and happy spark in your chest. “That good, huh?”

“You’re alright.” You’re trying to keep your eyes open, more than aware that your teeny tiny thong is on the floor and you’re naked in the arms of a stranger in Jean’s fucking bed, but Eren’s so warm, so comfortable, your eyes are fluttering despite your protests. 

“Oh?” Eren’s voice raises in pitch, gets breathy. “Yes, Eren! Right there, Eren! I’m cumming, Eren!”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You smack at his chest, cheeks burning, but you make no move to roll away from him, preferring your snug little hovel against him to the loud, smoky party that awaits you should you leave.

“S’okay,” Eren presses a kiss to your hairline, “I like that you’re loud.”

“Not loud,” you grouch, resolving to let yourself enjoy just a few minutes of keeping your eyes closed before you return to the party. The last thing you remember is Eren humming, tracing circles into your shoulders with his fingers. You think you recognize the tune; it’s a love song.

–

“Jaeger!”

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god, is that Jean? What time is it? Eren!”

Eren’s first peaceful sleep in months is disturbed rather rudely, in his opinion; he shields his eyes from the brightness of the overhead light, peering through his fingers to see you, hair a rat’s nest and smudged makeup in rings around your eyes. He scowls at the warm, empty spot next to him in the bed that you’ve already leapt out of, frantic with energy even through your hangover. You’re alternating between running around the room naked, trying to find your dress, and shaking him urgently. He bites back a grin; so you are real, and just as hot as he remembered.

“Chill the fuck out, Jean!” Eren shouts, using far more energy than he can afford to expend if he’s leaving the bed anytime soon. The alarm clock on the nightstand reads 7:01am. Shit. “We’ll be out in a second!”

“Get your ass out here, Eren!” Shit. Mikasa’s here too? Oh, he’s dead the second he leaves this room. All the better to stay put, then.

“Get up,” you hiss at him, looking every bit of a pissed-off racoon as you scrounge around on the floor.

“Need my hair tie back if you want me to get up.”

“Ugh, here,” you fling it at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead. Eren chuckles, pulling his hair off of his neck and into its usual bun. He feels empty, feels alone, realizes that he wants your touch, the same body-to-body contact that he’d enjoyed last night.. 

“They’re fine,” Eren grumbles, hoping you can’t see the amusement written on his face, “we’ve got a few more minutes.”

He reaches sleepily for you, pulling you back into the bed with him amidst your whispered protests, pulling your lips back to his where they belong. He kisses you slowly, indulgently, convincingly. Your skin against his does wonders for the soul-crushing anxiety he’s been putting up with over the last few months. You’re like a drug to him; just one hit and he feels worlds better, feels like he can actually get through everything weighing on him for now. Jesus, even your morning breath doesn’t turn him off; his cock twitches in interest beneath the covers. Cute when you’re angry, he thinks to himself. He has a feeling you’d smack him if he said it out loud.

“We can’t,” you breathe into his mouth, pushing weakly at his chest. Eren loves the feel of your palms on his chest, necessarily resistant in the name of a one–night stand, but lacking the force to prove your point. You want him too, he realizes. The thought goes straight to his dick, and he takes a deep breath to keep his composure, to stop himself from jumping all over you with Mikasa and Jean right outside. He’s rather impressed with his efforts, rubbing small circles on your lower back instead of grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you into his lap like he wants to.

“We can,” Eren murmurs back, already ten times happier than he was a moment ago, “just want to kiss you, that’s all.”

That makes you pull back, fix him with a stern look. “I don’t want to come off as a bitch, but I don’t really do the morning-after thing. Don’t you live, like, five hours from the city anyway?”

Eren’s not the brightest when he’s tired, and he’s even stupider around beautiful women. He cocks his head at you, smiling. “Mikasa didn’t tell you? I’m moving to the city in a few weeks.”

You eye him suspiciously. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eren’s bullshitting, bullshitting very badly and he knows it, “just have to get some things worked out with my brother and our business. Get the operation moved here, that’s all.”

He knows your type: flighty, heavily anti-commitment, and meaner than a snake when you’re cornered. But Eren hopes, he hopes stupidly and against all reason because even if it was just a night, he meant what he said in the throes of passion. You’re funny, you’re interesting, you’re sexy, and he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to fuck you stupid, just like he did last night, for the rest of his life.

He can’t say any of this out loud, of course, but what if he’s not bullshitting? What if he can convince Zeke to move their amateur record label into the city, where they can pick up real artists, and he can fuck you stupid whenever he feels like it? Maybe he can even learn how you like your coffee, what your bra size is, where the junk drawer in your apartment lives. Eren doesn’t know you, he knows that, but he inexplicably wants those things, wants the mundane parts of you for himself.

“Get the fuck out here, Jaeger, that’s my fucking bed!” Fists pound against the door, threatening to barge into your little sanctuary. Mikasa’s calling your name from outside too, voice harsh and angry. Eren waits for you to scold him, waits for you to shove him off of you and tell him to fuck off.

To his surprise, you make no move to get up and offer him a sheepish grin, shrugging shyly as if you’re not fully naked in his arms. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Eren’s heart swells. “I’m not chancing that. Give me your number.”“You can earn my number if you buy me breakfast,” you scoff, “and help me find my dress before Mikasa kills us both.”

[journey-to-the-attic]

Now I'm imagining them like that scene from Doctor Who.

Solomon: I'm not your father, IK.

IK: I know that! I never thought you were!

Solomon: I never said it was your mistake.

ohhhhh that is a tasty dramatic scene. i feel like this could follow up the idea of solomon having a mini crisis/breakdown after lesson 12 too

i could imagine him arguing, mostly with himself, about how completely backwards it is that ik's the one taking charge and constantly getting into harm's way, while ik tries to reason with him, and then that exchange happens

also there are layers to what's going on with solomon here... i don't think he wants to be a dad in, like, the literal sense - it's a combination of his duty of protection to humanity, his duty of care to ik, and then his own feelings (i.e. the value he places on human connection, the fact that he cares a lot about ik on a personal level, his lack of experience on this front in general)

it's definitely been building up in him for a while. he feels a special kind of responsibility, being the only lifeline to the present ik has, and she's also in a uniquely vulnerable position (both literally - the devildom is dangerous - and emotionally), so he feels an extra strong need to keep her safe

the reason the coma thing gets to him so much is 1. it happened as a direct consequence of his attempt to protect her (teleporting them to the reaper's caves), 2. he couldn't do anything to cure it, and 3. he was literally right there, could've done anything, and ik was still inches away from dying in his arms

meanwhile for ik it's confusing - because she didn't ever get the sense that that's what solomon was trying to do, nor was it ever something she really asked of him, but she still sort of gets it? she's never been under the impression that solomon considered her his child (the way present lucifer does), but their relationship is also different to the ones she has with the other brothers, or with the royals, or with simeon

this is some GOOD character material........ i am building lego sets with them in my mind

[implusivesugarapple]

🍎Toxic Lucifer Headcanons🍎

MINORS DNI

TW: verbal/mental and physical abuse,stockholm's syndrome,degradation

♡ Lucifer is constantly hovering over you to keep you close to him

♡ Even when you're both sleeping he's squeezing you tight

♡ Mornings aren't easy either he can conjure up anything with a snap of his fingers but still insists you make breakfast

♡ Even trying your hardest, it's not perfect for him

♡ ...let's just say you were never were the best cook

♡ He gives you a disgusted look and he knows it gets to you every time.

♡ It's not the same way Lilith used to make pancakes

♡ Nothing was ever the same for him and he didn't like change

♡ There are times where he shuts you out locking himself in his crafts room

♡ Either that or he would lock you in the guest room

♡ You even threatened to leave him once, huge mistake

♡ "Do you forget who I am" "I am the king of Hell, do you know what I can do to you"

♡ That was enough for you

♡ He would always "forget" arguments or things he would yell at you about

♡ Well not always but he would hope you would

♡ He would later come up running behind you giving you a hug completely forgetting what he said

♡ You were always scared of him and even if you brought up what happened he would get mad at you for remembering

♡ "How are you still mad about that" "Maybe next time do it right"

♡ And don't you dare go inside his crafts room

♡ That's his place, even if it's full of dust and portraits of Lilith

♡ There was one time when you caught a peak of the room and you questioned him about it

♡ “Why were you looking there in the first place" “Are you so insecure that you just have to creep on me"

♡ It's not his fault but he doesn't get when you obviously get upset about something he would do

♡ "why are you crying again"

♡ Shows you off to the other sins

♡ You're most likely lower in "class" or "hierarchy" than him so he uses this to his advantage

♡ Treats you basically like a pet in front of them

♡ Everyone except for Ozzie and Beelzebub

understand how you feel bc of their partners

♡ "I have a meeting" is a word you heard a lot but when you ask the other sins it's a mix of responses mostly them just covering for him

♡ "I give you everything can't you just..."

♡ leaves you on read all the time

♡ you ask him "where are you," "can i come in," "i love you"

♡ he on the other hand only texts you when he needs something or when he wanted to tell you something no one else could hear

♡ He's the king of Hell and in charge of the pride ring so it's expected that he cheats

sorry not sorry (≧ω≦)/

♡ If you do catch him it's most likely someone that looks like you or Lilith

♡ He didn't like being committed to you

♡ He loves that the people he hooks up with admire him so much

♡ You just got boring to him

♡ Satan forbid though you even glance at another guy though

♡ if he is physically abusive then he undermines how bad it is

♡ "I didn't even hit you that hard"

♡ "Stop being so dramatic"

♡ "You know i'm only doing this because I love you"

♡ He knows and has control over his own strength but he wants to put you in place

♡ This is only because he has no control over the things around him and has left his ring into chaos

♡ This only made it worse when his daughter was able to improve Hell in less than a year

♡ "You can't leave me" He hugs you tightly "If you do i know where to find you"

sorry ik this is different from my other content i just don't see much toxic hcs for Lucifer

[my-castles-crumbling]

Im scared of trump getting elected and im scared of project 2025.

I know he said hes not affiliated or whatever the fuck but i dont believe that

My mom works in state department so i thoight it wouldn't effect me terribly until i moved back in 4 years for college. But i found this pdf of the action plan and there is an entire section 29 pages long on the department of state. They think that its too woke but thats honestly because you have to well educated and cultured to work in state seeing as you are constantly learning and experiencing culture and differences. So they want to hand pick political appointees and add more positions for them to align with views.

They also say the state department doesn't focus on immigration as much as the should but that is one sub department of a sub department of the state department???? They also said that visa are used too much as 'international welfare' instead of a tool to better the US??? Like what?? They want us to start using visas as weapons. My dad accepts and denies visas as well so i know a bit about the process and its bullshit. In the countries I've lived in going to the US gives so much opportunity and they were saying that if a country refuses to accept someone from their country back after say commiting a crime in the US then we should withold possibly all kinds of visas (immagrant and tourist visas. And saying all implies also banning politicians, leaders of the country, DIPLOMATS). Thats fucking insane. Also saying that a country should recripricate not only visas but favorable visas or we shouldnt give visas either. Wtf.

And then people who are open about being left, democratic, 'woke' etc. Could also be fired. Luckily my mom has tenure so it would be very hard to prove reasonable cause.

And the education. I've heard on the extreme end he wants to make all schools private. The problem with this is that i go to expensive international schools that i wouldn't be able to afford because the government pays for it because i would have access to free education in the US so they have to make sure i have free education in a language i can speak. So if all schools went private (unlikely ik but lets prepare for the absolute worst) would they stop paying?? Probably and if they do i have to move back to the US. Which not being in the US is the only thing that makes me feel even a bit safe at the possibility of him being elected.

Then of course there is the fact im openly queer, and im female. Those are the two major things im scared about that come off the top of my head. Im also worried about my friends whos parents are also in state and who also would not be able to afford the tuition so they would have to move back.

Im scared and i dont know what to do bc i have this feeling that if he gets elected he'll try to stay or we'll just keep getting presidents like him. People are burning ballot boxes. The amount of trump supporters is so overwhelming. Ik its because theyre loud but im still scared. Im terrified. And i feel like im being dramatic but im so so scared

Hi!

I have to be honest, I'm nervous, too. I think the important thing to recognize is this election affects EVERYONE in the US. Right now, try to focus on encouraging people to vote and not panicking. We don't know what will happen yet, and even on election day, things will change and change again. take deep breaths, stick around safe people, and wait until things are OFFICIALLY called before reacting. <3