#so a part of me knows that alcohol isnt good for me. and a part of me is scared of turning out like my dad someday.

[martinskiseyes]

.

[orcelito]

Genuinely thinking about giving at least some of my alcohol away. Not quite wanting to get rid of my favorite vodka flavors yet, but the other ones + the ciders in my fridge...

Just kinda don't want them lol

[angievue]

her doll ʚɞ billie eilish

in which you're billie's plaything and she promised she'd make you her girlfriend. is she honest?

contains smutt!! billie's manipulative, readers an airhead!! dumbification, degradation, fingering&oral (r recieving), tiny bit of edging? cheating, mentions of alcohol, random oc who's billies gf, billie isnt famous in this

wc 3.9k+

a/n this is my first one shot everr!! feedback is always appreciated!! please know that my grammar is ass and english is genuinely not my first language!! :D

"You know, it's a good thing you're done with that two-timer," your best friend says, causing you to tilt your head in confusion.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

She chuckles lightly as she runs the straightener through her hair effortlessly. "It's a relief you cut ties with Billie. You do know she was never gonna end things with Julie, right?"

Your head snaps back in shock, disbelief evident in your eyes. "No! She told me she was going to make me her girlfriend, but I just had to wait for Julie to get over her."

When Billie first came into your life, it felt like a fairy tale. She was the most captivating person on campus, while you were the sweet, naive girl everyone admired from afar. It seemed like fate had brought you together, except for the fact that she said a girlfriend.

After six months of seeing each other, you finally asked why you couldn't be hers. She gave you excuses, claiming Julie was in a dark place and needed her, but that you satisfied her in ways Julie couldn't. 

You were always a ditz. There was no denying it. You grew up with disappointed parents and weary teachers, it felt miraculous that you even made it to college. Little did you know, that very naïveté was what captivated Billie. She thrived on slipping into your mind, convincing you that she belonged there. She adored the way she could bend your perception, making you believe she alone knew what was truly good or bad for you.

But Julie was always lurking in the shadows of your twisted love. Your encounters with Billie were sworn in secrecy, whispered beneath the canopy of night. Billie never missed an opportunity to tell you how much better you were than Julie; her words both intoxicating and confusing. Yet, despite her relentless cheating, you wondered—if you were so much greater, why didn’t she just end things with Julie?

Eventually, you grew tired of being her secret and decided to end things. And of course, she didn’t take that well. She blew up your phone, relentless and pleading, until you could take no more and finally blocked her. If Billie wasn’t willing to claim you as hers, then you had no choice but to walk away. You vowed to yourself, and your friends, that you wouldn’t look back, even though every part of you longed to.

"It kills me how you're such an airhead, Y/N," she said, her voice sharp with frustration. "She never broke up with her. I saw them together not long ago, wrapped around each other like they were the only two people in the world. She lied to you, just so she could keep fucking you over. Can’t you see that? Now, for the last time, hurry up and finish your hair. We're leaving at nine, and you can’t go looking like this."

You grab the straightner, confused at her words. Before you blocked her, Billie swore to you that she'd break up with Julie and go straight to you, and if she really was going to why would she be seen a couple days ago cuddling up to her? Why would Billie lie to you?

The overpowering smell of stale alcohol and sweat fills the air as you roam the upper floors of the three-story mansion, looking for a quiet room to rest. You lost track of your friends long ago and now feel a bit dazed from the shot of tequila you’ve had.

Parties were never your scene, in fact you’d only attend them if your friends dragged you or if Billie was there. She never misses a chance to eye you hungrily, her lips curling into a teasing smile at the mere sight of you.

You remember one particular night vividly. You were at a Halloween party, wearing the shortest skirt you owned, acutely aware that Billie would likely be eyeing you. As you made your way to the bar, you suddenly turned to find Julie and Billie lips intertwined. Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sight, but because Billie’s gaze was locked on you, piercing through you as if she were the one kissing you.

Soon after, you recall her telling you to meet her at her apartment, which you did without hesitation. She sat you down and demanded that you beg for her fingers, which you did so obediently. You pleaded and pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks as she loomed over you, a dark gleam in her eyes and a smirk playing on her lips. She’d blow smoke in your face from time to time to tease you even more, marking you as utterly pathetic for her.

A low groan escapes your lips as you shove a random door open, stepping into a dimly lit room. A perfectly made single bed dominates the space, its crisp white sheets a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in your mind. You stumble further inside, your hazy vision clouding your thoughts, when the sudden thud of the door slamming shut jolts you back to reality.

Turning slowly, your gaze finds itself upon Billie. Her raven hair falls like a dark waterfall around her striking blue eyes, an unsettling beauty that captivates yet confounds you. What was she doing here? Why was she in the same room as you?

She shuts the door behind her and bites her lip, eyeing your pitiful excuse for a skirt. Anger fills your cheeks as you remember what your best friend told you earlier. Even if you didn’t block Billie, she still would’ve lied to you—something you can hardly believe.

“Hi there, sweet thing. Care to explain why I’m blocked?” She leans in slightly, her gaze lingering on your mini skirt, a spark of curiosity mingling with a flicker of desire in her eyes

The way she looks at you drives you wild, igniting a heat that spreads through your entire body. Billie was aware of it—she knew exactly which buttons to push and how to push them. It’s what made you so favourable to her.

You huff in frustration and head towards the bed, feeling an overwhelming rush of emotions. Why was she so oblivious to your feelings? You’ve been yearning to be her girl for what feels like an eternity, carrying the weight of your longing like a heavy stone in your chest. The discovery that she never truly ended things with Julie twists in your stomach like a knife, a sickening realization that shatters the delicate hope you had clung to. 

In a swift motion, she grips your waist, halting your escape. With a flick of her wrist, she turns you to face her “What’s your issue?” The challenge hangs in the air, and she furrows an eyebrow, her palm heat against the small of your back, igniting every nerve in your body.

“I’m not talking to you and I don’t ever want to see you again!”

She barks out a laugh, eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh yeah? Is that why you’re still standing here, pretending to be so tough? Maybe you just don’t wanna leave without getting off...”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you grip the edge of the doorframe, fully aware that you could walk out at any moment. Yet, deep inside, you realize you crave her presence more than you want to admit.

“Whatever! I’m not saying a word to you,” you shoot back, though your voice wavers.

Billie tilts her head, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. She lets you go and you feel empty. She settles down on the bed, patting her lap. “Come sit on my lap, baby. Tell me why you’re so fussy.”

Her stance on the bed gives you an all too familiar feeling back to when you first met; your friends had left you to either get drinks or to get fucked, and you were on the verge of blacking out. You wandered to an unfamiliar room, taking in the scent of frat boys and wavering sex in the air. You sat down on the bed and felt your nerves tense up, until Billie sat beside you.. Billie’s presence had ignited something in you that night, a thrill mingled with fear. You had felt so small, so innocent under her gaze, and yet drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

She leaned in closer, her voice low and sultry, laced with promises that sent shivers down your spine. You remembered the way she brushed a stray hair behind your ear, the soft, lingering touch that made your heart race. She told you how she’s been eyeing you for a while, showering you with compliments about your beauty, how your dress clung to your curves, and how her girlfriend could never compare to you.

Her beautiful gaze had you held captive, and her whispers and promises made you turn into goo. She promised she’d make you hers one day if you let her touch you, which you did, prompting her to steal your virginity. She had promised you that she’d save you from all the evil in the world, calling you naive and unaware. Little did you know, she was the evil who took advantage of you and your mind.

You lock eyes with her and find yourself longing for her, and you obediently lower yourself onto her lap. She bites her lip, holding your gaze as her lips brush against your ear, “So?” she whispers softly.

“You… You told me you broke up with Julie! My friend told me she saw you two together,” you muster the courage to say, blinking away the tears threatening to spill from your doe-like eyes.

“Aww, sweet girl,” Billie coos, her fingers caressing your cheek. “You’ve misunderstood…”

“Really?” You look up at her.

“Yeah, I was just returning some things to Julie after our breakup, and she offered to treat me to ice cream. It was nothing serious, angel.”

You tilt your head, doubt creeping in. “But she said she saw you two cuddling!”

Billie blinks, and for a fleeting moment, you see her features go dark before her expression softens. She smiles, “That was just me comforting her; her cat had passed away recently.”

You nod, comprehension dawning. You internally smiling, realizing that Billie would never lie to you. She did break up with her. Right?

“I hope she’s alright,” you say, feeling a pang of sympathy.

“Mmm,” Billie murmurs, her hands exploring your body, slipping beneath your skirt, and grasping your flesh with a roughness that makes you whine.

“You make the prettiest noises baby.”

She shifts your position, leaving you sprawled with your back against the bed.  With a teasing smirk, she pulls up your skirt, mumbling about how you aren’t wearing shorts under your skirt.

She let her fingers hover over your clothed cunt, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Does.. Does this mean I can be your girlfriend, Billie?”

She didn't spare you a glance, instead focusing her gaze intently on your pussy and giving it a firm slap.  “My dumb baby thinks she can block me and cut me out? How pathetic..” She teased your entrance through your underwear, making you whimper as you squeezed your hands against her arm.

“Please, Billie..”

She licks her lips with a predatory gaze. The way your tits spill out of your dress and the way you blink up at her so innocently drives her crazy. You’re her doll, and she can mold and manipulate you at her will…

“Beg baby. Tell me you’re my doll who I can do whatever I want to with.” You hesitate, your thoughts consumed by conflicting emotions about Julie and how you really longed for Billie to be yours. Memories of having to meet up privately flood your brain, you long for publicity with her. 

She drew circles against your entrance, maintaining unwavering eye contact and challenging you to beg for her. No matter what, you couldn't help but stare into her cold, blue eyes as they taunted you.

"Please, make me your girlfriend, Billie..." You choke out, revealing your true desires.

She rolled her eyes and sucked in a breath, impatient. "I will. Now shut up and beg for it, bunny. Don't you want to feel good against my fingers?"

You blinked, your mind slow to process her words. "I… I’m your doll and... You can do whatever you want to me," you admitted, your voice soft and uncertain. You were always so needy, so desperate for her. It was pathetic, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Billie.

She chuckled softly, her hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet her eyes. "Good girl," she praised, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Such a good, needy girl."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallowed hard, your eyes fluttering closed as you leaned into her touch. God, you were such an airhead, so easily manipulated, so eager to please. It was embarrassing, but that’s what drove Billie insane, you're her own personal doll.

Billie’s hand started to travel, her fingers trailing down your thigh, inching closer and closer to the apex of your legs. 

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a whimper, but it escaped anyway. Her touch was electric, setting every nerve ending on fire.

"Quiet, sweet girl," she whispered, her voice soothing yet commanding. "Let me take care of you."

You could feel yourself melting under her words, your body relaxing against the plush chair. Your skirt was already riding up, exposing more of your thighs, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was Billie.

Her fingers finally reached their destination, slipping between your folds with practiced ease. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily against her hand. She gave your pussy a slap, her fingers lashing against your sensitive flesh.

"Keep still," she observed, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Already dripping... What a slut you are."

The degrading words should have made you cringe, but instead, they only served to heighten your arousal. You moaned softly, your head falling back as you surrendered to the sensations she was stirring within you.

"Mmm," you moaned, your voice breaking as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. You felt like you were melting against her fingers.

Her fingers delved deeper, finding your clit and giving it a firm pinch. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your climax. Red heats up your cheeks, embarrassed you finished quite quick, but that’s what drives her insane, she wasn’t done with you yet. She continued to stroke and toy with your sensitive nub, prolonging your orgasm until you thought you might lose your mind.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she withdrew her hand, leaving you gasping for breath and trembling. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she licked your slick off her fingers then llifted them to your lips, watching you licking them slowly and seductively.

"Mmm, she could never have a pussy as sweet as yours," she purred, her gaze locked onto yours. "Such sweet, needy pussy."

You could barely form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of what she'd just done to you. All you could manage was a weak whimper.

But Billie wasn't satisfied with that. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell me you’re a slut baby. A useless dumb slut all for me."

You hesitated, your mind racing as you tried to find the right words. She nudged you with her knee, a silent reminder that she wouldn't be patient forever.

"I... I'm your dumb, needy slut," you finally stammered, the words spilling out in a rush. "Your dirty little plaything."

Your words surprised you, she could mold you into whatever she wanted. Earlier in the night you were pleading to be her girlfriend and now you don’t care what you are to her.

A satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Good girl," she said, patting your cheek gently. "And now, let's see how much more you can take before you completely break."

With that, she rose, her fingers once again reaching for your skirt. This time, she yanked it up higher, revealing your drenched pussy to the world. You whimpered, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but there was nothing you could do to stop her.

"Spread your legs," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

You obeyed without question, parting your thighs wide open for her. She knelt down in front of you, her eyes roaming over your glistening folds with obvious delight.

"Beautiful," she breathed, her fingers dipping back into your slick heat. "So fucking beautiful."

You moaned, your body arching towards her as she began to tease you once more. This time, however, she wasn't content with just fingers. No, she wanted something more…

Billie stood between your legs, her eyes dark with lust as she stared down at you. Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, revealing teeth that glinted menacingly in the faint light. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your inner thigh, and whispered, "You’re nothing but my personal little slut, aren’t you? A pathetic whore.”

Her words stung, cutting deep into your already fragile self-esteem. But there was something about the way she said them, the way her voice dripped with disdain, that made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to deny it, to scream back at her that she was wrong, but the truth was, she wasn’t. Not entirely. Deep down, you knew she was right. Knew that you were weak, that you needed someone like her to take control, to control your every action, to make you feel something other than the numbness that had settled over you.

Billie must have sensed your hesitation, because her smile grew wider, more sinister. "That’s what I thought," she purred, her fingers trailing up your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "But don’t worry, sweetie. I’m going to make sure you remember just how much of a whore you really are."

With that, she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to flick against your clit. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to your core, making you gasp and arch your back. But Billie wasn’t done. She let out a low chuckle, her breath warm against your sensitive flesh, and then began to circle your clit with the tip of her tongue. Slowly, deliberately, she increased the pressure, her movements almost taunting in their precision.

"Do you like that?" she asked, her voice mocking as she continued to tease you. "Do you like feeling my tongue on you, making you squirm? Or is it too much for my dumb baby?”

Your mind was a tangled mess of conflicting emotions. On one hand, you hated her for the way she spoke to you, for the way she reduced you to nothing more than a plaything for her amusement. But on the other hand, her words—no, her entire presence—had a strange effect on you. They made you feel... alive. Like the emptiness inside you was finally being filled, if only by pain and humiliation.

"That’s it," Billie murmured, her tongue now flicking back and forth over your clit in quick, sharp strokes. "Beg for it. Beg me to keep going, my little baby."

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your resolve crumbling under the weight of her dominance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. All you could do was moan, your hips bucking against her tongue as the pleasure built inside you.

"Beg,” Billie demanded, her voice harsh, unyielding. "My little slut. Don’t you dare try to ever run away from me again. You belong to me."

The words tumbled out of you in a rush, your voice trembling with both shame and arousal. "Please... please don’t stop... I need you to... I love... I wanna..."

Before you could finish, Billie pulled away, leaving you panting and desperate. She looked down at you, her expression cold and calculating. "Need me to what?" she asked, her tone sharpening with impatience.

"I need you to make me forget," you blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper. "Make me forget how worthless I am..."

For a moment, Billie just stared at you, her eyes narrowing as she processed your words. Then, she let out a low, satisfied hum. "Good girl," she said, her voice softening just enough to send a thrill of excitement through you. "But just so we’re clear, you’re not allowed to come until I say so. Understand?"

You nodded quickly, your body trembling with anticipation. Billie smirked and then returned her attention to your throbbing clit, her tongue sliding back into place with a slow, deliberate pressure that left you gasping. This time, however, she didn’t tease. Instead, she dove right in, her tongue swirling around your clit in broad, sweeping circles that sent waves of pleasure crashing through you.

"Ahh... fuck... Billie..." you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets as your body arched up towards hers, desperate for more.

"Shhh," Billie soothed, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she continued to lap at you. "Just relax, angel girl. Let me take care of everything. You don’t need to think anymore. Just feel."

Her words echoed in your mind, wrapping around your thoughts like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until all you could focus on was the sensation of her tongue on your skin. The world outside the bedroom faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a battle of wills—hers to dominate, yours to submit.

And yet, as much as you hated to admit it, part of you reveled in it. In the way she made you feel, in the way she took control and forced you to confront your deepest, darkest desires. It was as if she had unlocked something inside you, something primal and raw, and now that it was free, there was no going back.

Billie must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, because she suddenly changed tactics, her tongue dipping down to flick at the entrance of your pussy before plunging inside. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and surprise that left you gasping for breath.

"Oh God... Billie...!" you cried out, your body jerking as she continued to thrust her tongue deeper, exploring every inch of you with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

"Good girl," she murmured again, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh as she spoke. "That’s it. Just let go. Let me make you forget everything."

And with that, she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking gently as her tongue continued to work its magic. The combination was too much, too intense, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Please... please let me come..." you begged, your voice cracking with desperation.

But Billie wasn’t done yet. She pulled back, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watched you squirm beneath her. "Not yet," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "We’re just getting started."

You whine at her words, desperate for a release. Everything was at her will, and it was clear that you truly were her doll. 

a/n sorry i got kinda lazy at the end idk!! hope you enjoyed to some extent! this is my first time actually writing smut so idk how i didd plz give some feedback :D

[moonstruckme]

hi :3

everytime i send you a request my personality’s different HAHA

okay, sooo, i was thinking (rare occasion) about your casual dominance story (LOVE btw)

so, how about that EXCEPT reader is the casually dominant one >:)

feel free to ignore this, ik this isnt like what u normally do

love ya MWA

Okay so I swear I tried to do dominant reader but it just turned into this, idk how it happened. She’s not super dominant but she’s not submissive and she definitely gets her way, so I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, suggestive content + a bit of light degradation, mdni please

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 601 words

You find the marauders in the living room. At the center of the party, as usual. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” Sirius’ eyes find you instantly. He grins. Remus follows his gaze, and immediately starts talking to James about something else. “I was just thinking about you.” 

“You’re always thinking about me,” you say, bypassing the space he makes for you on the couch to sit in his lap. 

He scoffs, settling his hand on your thigh. You know he can smell your conditioner. You hope he dreams about it. “Sweetheart,” he replies, breath warm on the shell of your ear, “you’re projecting.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes up on him. “That’s a five dollar word there, baby. You taking lessons from Remus?” 

Sirius makes a sound like he’s choked on a laugh. He covers it up by taking a sip of his drink. His cropped shirt lifts when he raises his cup, and you swiftly turn around on his lap, covering the slice of abdomen from view. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. He knows what you’re doing, but he hardly minds. You’re conveniently placed to feel something stiff and familiar poking at your heat through his pants. 

You grin and shift a little, delighting when his cheeks pinken. 

Black fingernails dig into your thigh in an attempt to still you. 

“Doll,” Sirius says warningly. 

You ignore him, plucking the cup from his hand and swirling it, sniffing at the liquid inside. Sirius holds your stare as you take a sip. 

“How many of these have you had?” you ask. 

“That there’s my second.” 

You hum, taking another sip. Strong, but not bad. 

“I’m gonna finish this one off,” you tell him. “I think you’re good for tonight.” 

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And why’s that?” 

You lean in close, wrapping one hand around the side of his neck and murmuring against the shell of his ear, “Because it’s no fun fucking you if you’re already stupid when we start.” You back up an inch, looking into eyes now eclipsed by pupil. “Okay, honey?” 

Sirius swallows. You feel the movement of his throat under your hand and stroke the side of his jaw with your thumb. Roll your hips again, just because you can. 

He takes in a sharp breath, hands clamping down on your hips to try and keep you in place. 

“Sirius, mate,” James says from the other side of the couch, “are you alright?” His brow is creased in concern, but you can see the tensed muscles around his mouth from the effort it takes to keep from smiling. Beside him, Remus is doing a much better job at exercising his poker face. “You look like your drink’s gone down the wrong pipe or something.” 

Sirius might normally see the knowing in his friend’s look, too, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “I’m fine,” he says, voice impressively blase for someone who seems like he could cum in his pants with a couple of strategic movements on your part. “Just thinking it’s time me and my bird get out of here.” 

“What?” You make a show of leaning away from him, and the shift in your weight has Sirius gripping desperately at your hips. “Babe, it’s so early. We’ve only just got here. Let’s give it an hour at least, yeah?” 

“Really?” Sirius asks quietly, urgently. 

You take a slow sip of his drink, letting him see the way your throat bobs when you swallow. 

“Yeah,” you exhale as you finish. “Why, are you in some kind of hurry?”

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 2

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: T (evenual E) MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old cursed witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), alcohol, jealousy, angst, slow burn, yearning, probably anachronistic witchy stuff, love triangle (quadrangle?), Ezra is a cat, he won't be forever, this isnt a beastiality thing, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: Thank you to everyone that read part 1!! I'm so pleased that you're enjoying it so far! I really would've liked to let this part simmer a little longer but I'm holding myself to this publishing schedule. It's time to yeet this into the world. I'd love to know what you think. Your comments and reblogs give me so much joy!

Thank you @lowlights for the beta and help with witchy stuff. Thank you @moonlitbirdie @schnarfer and @whocaresstillthelouvre for listening to me bitch about this and supporting me always.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aunt Margot says. 

You’re putting the finishing touches on your make up in the Page’s office. Usually you’d go back upstairs but you don’t feel like hearing it from Ezra.  

“Thanks. I have a date,” you say, packing your mascara in your purse. 

“Oh,” she replies, not hiding her disappointment in the slightest. 

You hadn’t intended to see Connor again but when he texted you, you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. He invited you to his place to check out his vinyl collection which sounds like an insufferable version of Netflix and Chill but you have no plans to listen to a single record. You just want to fuck in his bed and avoid any drama with Ezra. 

“Well I hope you’ll put as much effort in for the equinox,” she says. She flips the sign in the door from open to closed then snaps her fingers to turn off the overhead lights. 

You and Margot host the coven for the equinox each year which already means extra preparations in addition to work at the bookshop. 

“Why would I do that?” you ask. You don’t wear make up for moon rituals, don’t wear much of anything at all. 

“Esme is bringing River,” she says with a casual shrug. 

“No” you groan. 

“He’s visiting from Ireland,” she tells you. 

The last time you saw Esme’s grandson you were both in high school. River was built like a string bean, his upper lip dusted with the saddest mustache— if you could even call it that. He reeked of some badly brewed potion that was supposed to attract lovers. You still gagged when you smelled licorice root. 

“Good for him,” you say. “Please do not set me up with River.”

“I’m not a matchmaker, dear. I’m just trying to expand your sexual horizons,” Margot replies. 

Suddenly, Connor’s vinyls don’t sound so bad after all. 

—

Ezra pads through crystals and altar bells. Everything’s been laid out on Aunt Margot’s paisley scarves— scrying bowls and athame blades and jars of rain water all waiting to be charged by the moon of the autumn equinox. 

It’s just after midnight and the witches of your coven are gathered in a small clearing far enough into the woods that stray mortals won’t stumble upon them. The air smells fresh and cold like mountain spring water. A bonfire crackles, layered with herbs and pine needles. 

The waning moon feels heavy and close like it might just fall out of the sky and nick Ezra’s ear. It makes him feel uneasy. Then again, it’s hard to enjoy these rituals when he can’t participate the way he once did. 

Ezra watches you offer mulled wine to Esme and River, steaming cups scented with cinnamon balanced on an antique silver tray. You look beautiful in your simple white dress. It glows in the moonlight and he can see your body silhouetted beneath the fabric of its long skirt by the fire. 

He’s never cared much for Esme but, then again, he doesn’t have many kind words for any of the Elders even if the ones that cursed him are long dead. Even if he deserved that curse. She wears her long hair coiled on top of her head, a jade hair pin perched in its nest the same way her familiar, a tired old owl, watches from the branch of one of the trees. 

Ezra’s attention isn’t with Esme tonight. He’s keeping a close eye on her grandson. 

“He totally sucks. Please don’t leave me alone with him,” you’d implored. 

Ezra would be wary of him whether or not you’d asked. River is nothing like how you’ve remembered him to Ezra. He must’ve done a lot of growing up since your last encounter. Tall and lean with thick waves of auburn hair. He’s the kind of witch that even Ezra would have taken to bed when he was human. 

He sees the way River looks at you, watches him turn the charm on as he smiles. River’s eyes travel down your body and Ezra knows exactly what he sees. Waves of hot jealousy consume Ezra from nose to tail. For a moment, he worries he’ll get another thousand years added on to his sentence. 

After some small talk, Esme wanders away and that's Ezra’s cue. He slinks up between you and River, rubbing up against your legs to let you know he’s ready to bail you out. 

River swallows his drink with a chuckle. 

“That tastes just how I remember it. Me and Moss used to sneak glasses of Ariadne’s mulled wine when we were thirteen,” he explains. 

“Me too. Although I’m pretty sure Margot knew,” you say with a laugh. 

“Little mage, you asked me to fetch you when the oils were ready,” Ezra says. 

“Oh,” you say, throwing a self conscious smile at River. “I’ll go in a minute, Ez.”

“Margot could use your assistance,” Ezra adds. 

“Why don’t you go help her and I’ll be there soon,” you suggest.

Ezra can’t help but glare up at River. 

“Would that I had opposable thumbs,” he responds. 

You laugh. River doesn’t. You crouch down and glide your hand down Ezra’s spine.

“It’s okay, Ez. I’m good,” you tell him and you wink at him.

His blood turns molten as you turn back to River and continue your conversation. He wants to hiss and claw at him, draw blood. It feels like you’re slipping through his fingers not that he ever held a claim. Not that he even has fingers anymore. He’s completely powerless, standing at your feet like the dumb animal he is.

Rather than watch you moony over River, Ezra turns away and slinks off to the edge of the gathering to sulk. The fire’s warmth doesn’t quite reach and he presses back his ears to stave off autumn’s chill. He can’t run off into the woods the way he’d like to, not without raising questions from the other witches, make you look like you can’t control your familiar.

He can’t stop his eyes from wandering back to you. Your head thrown back in laughter, your hand on River’s forearm. Each moment of your joy is like a knife in his heart.

Ezra’s eventually relegated to the circle where the familiars commiserate. River’s is a jet black bird named Rhea who turns her beak up at him. He’s not one of them, not really. He was human himself with a familiar of his own but that’s not the only reason why they scorn him. They all know that he’s the worst kind of witch. 

There are many reasons why a witch might be turned into a cat but there’s only one crime that was punished with 1000 years— murder. And not just any murder. Ezra desecrated the life of another witch and, no matter how loyally he serves you, he’ll always have that stain. 

The rituals are done, the chanting. The embers from the fire float up through the trees towards the fat moon. Then the dancing begins. It’s erratic and joyful, Ezra can remember the ecstasy of it in his bones. Esme lets down her white hair and one by one the witches disrobe. 

He hears your laughter as you spin, shoulders shrugging with the pulse of the magic that swirls around the bonfire. 

He knows he shouldn’t look at you like that. Not you. Not here. You’re not putting on a show, you’re doing your magic. But the way your body moves against the glow of the fire is its own enchantment. He could worship you like the moon. 

The spell is broken just as quickly. River’s right beside you, bare skin radiant, muscles rippling with his own rhythm. His fingers tangle with yours and Ezra feels acid in his throat. 

The whole night becomes an assault on his senses. The sound of chanting rises, the old words frantic and savage. Amber and patchouli mix with the woodsmoke to choke him. Grotesque shadows fall over the faces of the witches like a carnival of horrors. And then there’s you— incandescent and naked and whispering something in River’s ear that has him grinning. Ezra’s hair stands on end.

“Come dance with me!” you giggle as you leave the circle of merriment. Your teeth are stained purple, drunk on wine and magic. 

“I’m quite content here,” Ezra lies. 

“Are you having fun?” You ask but you don’t wait for his answer. “River is…wow. He did not look like that when we were kids.”

You pick Ezra up and whirl around in a circle. He smells the incense of your skin, the alcohol on your breath. 

“You’re going to get your wish. I’m finally going to fuck a proper witch!” you say. 

You toss Ezra in the air and catch him. The bile has come so far up his throat it’s an absolutely nauseating sensation. 

“Enough!” Ezra hisses. He swats at you with his claws bared. 

You yelp and drop him. Before he even hits the ground, he feels it— a searing hot pain that makes his back arch. You’re defending yourself with your powers like a reflex. He lets out a yowl and just as quickly it passes.

Ezra staggers and looks up to find you with tears in your eyes. He’s never seen you looking so hurt, betrayed. Your jaw quivers. Ezra landed on his feet but he feels upside down. He’s realizing what he’s just done, that he tried to hurt you because he’s pathetic. Jealous. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice strangled. 

Like a coward, he takes off, ignoring you as you call after him. 

—

It’s the sound of the cat flap that wakes you sometime after sunrise. You’re sprawled out on your bed, head aching, eyes swollen. You’re still wearing your white dress, you threw it on before going after Ezra but it was no use. He was as black as the shadows in the forest and had slipped away under some bushes.

You abandoned the equinox celebration and went home in hopes he’d be there. You waited. Alone with your guilt and anxiety. 

I’m sorry. Please come home. You were never very good at telepathy but you tried to reach out to him with your thoughts. 

The sound that he made echoed through your mind as you paced the floor. Strangled, terrified. You tried to stop yourself from picturing him out there in the dark shaking with pain. 

You hadn’t meant to hurt him. It was involuntary. As soon as his claw grazed your skin, your powers flared. Maybe if you hadn’t been drunk you could’ve controlled it. It happened so quickly you still can’t be sure of how strong it hit him. 

Even if it was just a momentary shock, you saw just how much damage that moment did. His hair standing on end, his tail rod straight. But what really crushed you was the look in his eye. 

Suddenly you were just as horrible as every other witch that he’d served. You’d used your powers to punish him, to harm him. Every promise you’d ever made to him had broken in that instant. 

You see Ezra’s slim form dart to your doorway. In a flash, he slips under the bed and your heart sinks into your ankles. 

“Ez,” you say, your voice ragged from the night’s festivities. 

He doesn’t answer. You press your eyes shut and swallow hard then crawl to the edge of your mattress. Your stomach lurches as you look over the edge. On top of everything else there’s a hangover churning in your gut. You guess you deserve that, too. 

“Ezra, are you ok?” you ask. Whatever words of atonement you pieced together before you cried yourself to sleep have dissolved. 

He’s in the furthest corner beneath the bed, tucked against the wall with his tail wrapped tight around his body. You think you might burst into tears again seeing him cowering away from you. 

“I hope I didn’t make you fret,” he says. 

You want to scoop him into your arms and hold him as tight as you can but it feels like you’ve lost that privilege. 

“I’m so sorry, Ez,” you say, climbing down to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I'm sick over it.”

“You were well within your rights. You’re my master and I struck you,” he says. “I’m the one that should beg forgiveness.”

To hear him call you his master makes you feel even worse than before. There’s no amount of tuna belly that will make this right.

“No. It was my fault. And I promise I’ll never use my powers on you again. Ever,” you say. 

His gold eyes shift away. 

“Keep your apologies,” he says. “And I see I’ve kept you from your new paramour. Another act to add to my contrition.” 

“I don’t care about that.” If you hadn’t been so caught up in the prospect of taking River to bed, none of this would’ve happened. 

“Nonsense, little mage. You’re a witch. Be with other witches,” Ezra says.  

–

River’s in the bookshop when you arrive, standing opposite Aunt Margot. When you couldn’t convince Ezra to come out from under the bed, you decided to give him space. Maybe you could distract yourself re-alphabetizing the cookbooks. You were hoping for some quiet but you’re confronted by the very attractive witch you’d been flirting shamelessly with the night before.

You know you look a mess, your face still feels puffy. River, on the other hand, looks like the definition of a sight for sore eyes. Freshly showered and dressed in a well pressed shirt that’s rolled up to the elbows, the sun is streaming in the front window outlining his still-damp hair like he’s Prince Charming himself.

“There you are!” Margot calls. 

You smooth your hand across your top nervously as she appraises you. You threw on a more than slightly wrinkled shirt that was languishing on the floor of your bedroom, too preoccupied to put together a real outfit.

“Looks like we had too much of Ariadne’s little potion,” she says. 

“I have a tonic that’s great for that,” River says with a smile. “But coffee’s faster.” 

He hands you a steaming paper cup from the cafe down the street. He and Margot have their own perched on the counter. You take a sip and are surprised to find that it’s your regular order.

”Are you clairvoyant, too?” You ask.

River blushes. “Nah. Margot told me how you take your coffee,” he chuckles.

It's so thoughtful and you’re not feeling very deserving. You swallow down a lump in your throat.

“I wanted to go foraging around here but I really need a local,” he says. 

“That sounds fun,” you say half heartedly in an attempt to demure. You’re not really up for a good time but it feels like a real asshole move to turn River down considering he brought you coffee after you ditched him at the bonfire. Margot is beaming at the register.

“Doesn’t it?” she asks. “Why don’t I get you a basket?”

—

River carries the basket now overflowing with mushrooms and wild herbs. You’re deep in the woods, branches crunching beneath your shoes. Nature’s sounds echo around you, starlings and chipmunks, the constant whoosh of the breeze through the turning leaves. 

This path is overgrown but you know it well. You spent your childhood getting lost in these woods. They have their own magic. 

Your guilt overshadows the date. If it is a date. River seems to think it is if the way the back of his hand keeps brushing against yours is any sign. It’s hard to enjoy it especially when your mind keeps drifting off. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re only half-listening as he tells you just how mystical the vibes are at Stonehenge. 

You stop at a stream, sitting on a fallen tree that’s overgrown with moss. It’s one of your favorite spots. The water sparkles where the sunlight spills though the branches, peacefully trickling over rocks. You pick up one of the smooth stones and trace its wet surface with your thumb. 

You’ve sat in this very spot before feeling just as shitty. Heartbroken then, too, trying to figure out if you could call it a break up when you hadn’t actually been anything official. She hadn’t wanted anything complicated and you swore your feelings wouldn’t get involved. Unfortunately they had their own plans.

Ezra found you there, sulking by the stream, wondering if anyone would think you were worth breaking their own rules for. 

It struck you how quiet he was. There were no anecdotes about what the witch scene was like in 1924 or tips for mouse hunting, indoor versus outdoor. He just padded into the water and nudged a little stone towards your feet. It was just big enough to fit in your palm and it was cool against your skin as you held it there. 

“A thing of beauty,” he said and he head butted your shins affectionately. 

It was. Round from years, maybe decades under the water’s friction. A dull gray cut through the middle by a wedge of some crystalline mineral like shards of broken glass. You recall exactly what it looks like because it still sits on your night stand. Each time you see it you’re reminded of how Ezra slumped down beside you, his warm body weight like a cozy blanket, a faint purr reverberating through him. 

“You’ve got a big heart, little mage,” he said. 

You choke up at the memory, unsure if Ezra would ever think that again. You certainly wouldn’t say it about yourself today. 

“Either you’re really hungover or something’s bothering you,” River says gently. 

You laugh tearfully and he rubs a circle on your back. You try to shake your head but River doesn’t give it up, looking at you with a soft concern.

“I really fucked things up with Ezra last night,” you admit. Telling him what a cruel witch you are might be a huge turn off but the feeling of his palm through your shirt makes you feel at ease.

“Ezra?” he asks.

“My familiar,” you remind him.

“Oh.”

“He scratched me and —”

“He hurt you?” he asks, face painted with righteous indignation. 

“No. He barely got me. I totally overreacted,” you say. “I used my powers on him. It was just a reflex, you know? But…I just feel awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he tells you with a relieved chuckle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

If that’s true then why do you hate yourself?

“If Rhea was out of line I’d do the same,” he goes on.

You wince at the thought.

“You’d hurt her?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’ve never had to. She knows who’s boss.”

You’ve always considered Ezra a partner. Of course, there are plenty of witches that think of their familiars as nothing more than servants. It’s an old school way of seeing it. You hadn’t expected River to use words that remind you of the way your grandmother used to talk.

“Maybe it’s different,” you say, trying to give him the opportunity to walk it back. Ezra’s not like Rhea. Maybe you’d feel the same way River does if your familiar hadn’t once been as human as you are. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

“You’re a funny little witch,” he says with a grin.

“What does that mean?” you ask. 

“Crying over your familiar. It’s sweet.” He says it as if it’s a compliment but the condescension makes you frown in disgust.

“If you want to make it up to him, why don’t you find him a lady cat that can make him feel good,” he adds with a laugh.

“Is that what you’re into?” you ask with venom.

“What? That was a joke,” River says.

“I don’t think it’s funny. You know, just because Ezra’s a familiar, it doesn’t mean he should be treated like shit. And he’s not a cat. He’s a human,” you tell him.

“He’s a witch killer,” River spits back. “So I’m sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for him.”

Your stomach turns. It’s the truth. Ezra’s served as a familiar in your family for centuries, his history has never been hidden from you and he’s never shied away from it.

But his punishment has never made sense to you. A thousand years, so many lifetimes, watching his friends and family die as he toiled in servitude for witches as backwards as River. It’s cruel, that’s why the Elders changed the laws years ago. And yet Ezra’s remained a cat, a familiar, disdained. 

Suddenly, the anger you’ve been tormenting yourself with turns outwards and you think your powers could set fire to the dry leaves at your feet. It’s all so unfair. The Elders turned him and witches like River scorn him and none of them feel a lick of shame. The back of your neck heats with a protective rage.

“He’s my friend,” you choke. “And you’re a fucking asshole.”

And you leave River speechless in the middle of the woods.  

🐈‍⬛

Part 3

Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs appreciated! My inbox is always open.

[champion-of-love]

thinking about pink squad being the resident party throwers in ever after and all the shenanigans they get up to when planning

in the books, briar had the position of social throne on the student council (or something similar cant remember) so i just know that she has 100% memorized all the forms and steps on procedures on throwing events at eah.

apple wishes she has the same mastery as briar in paperwork. the girl can do budget proposals, logistical planning, role assigning, and etc in her sleep and thats not exaggerating.

(true hearts day being held in secret was an exception since grimm shot the event down as cupid suggested it. all their other events are approved by the school and grimm himself is going crazy trying to find a reason to reject their request but cant find a flaw in briar's event proposals.)

cupid is 'their guy' if they need anything. no matter how weird, how rare, how obscure, cupid knows how to get it. she just knows where to get it or knows someone who can get it for her ;)

girlie always has a delivery incoming to the point that blondie knows how to fake cupids signature so she could shoo away all the delivery birds that come to their dorm room because they need cupids signature before they could drop off their package.

hopper's their distraction guy. while he's not as charismatic in his human form, he's got a silver tongue in his frog form.

it isnt only just grimm who falls for hoppers made up play, but every teacher and professor falls for it too because he's just that good. made up plays, clubs, assemblies. he knows how to lie well enough that any school offical believe the lies coming out of his mouth.

(i know theyre teens still, but you cannot convince me that no one is drinking at any of these parties. theres no pressure to drink at all but the option's there if you wanna get loose and have a lil buzz. they're eventually going to drink alcohol in the future in balls and dances and such, so why not learn about their personal tastes and tolerance in alcohol now?)

the biggest hurdle in the pink squad's goal of getting happily ever wasted is, unfortunately, apple.

apple is a rule follower to her very essence and while she does go to the parties, she is against underage drinking. (but she's drunk on power all the time, okay jan.)

they figured out that the solution is just to always have a bowl of apple juice out in every party so that apple wouldnt know there's alcohol being served. they noticed that unless there wasnt any apple juice out, apple wouldnt try out any other drink. so with a bowl charmed to never run out of a.j., the students of ever after are free to drink as they please.

(i love the hc that ginger is also part of the pink squad, so im gonna give my hc of her in party planning as well)

ginger is their food and snacks girl. she makes the best food ever perfectly themed to the party that theyre throwing. from heart cakes on true hearts day, light finger food for the rager parties, to five course meals on their more classy events, ginger's got them covered. sometimes, she gets too conscious about what other people think of the food that she forgets to enjoy herself, but the pink squad drag her out of her funk and get her to have fun anyways

not members of the pink squad but people who sometimes help out

melody - the best dj in ever after! she uses these events sometime to test the reception to some of her upcoming songs before she releases them

daring - being blackmailed by cupid to act as a medic in case someone gets hurt. (this is also partly based on my cupid and daring friendship fic hjdjskr). he's the best in rescuing damsels, whats a drunk teen of not a damsel? (he's actually really good at giving first aid tho)

darling - security! they do have bouncers and such, but if anyones getting too rough at a party, they can get darling and a look from her gets the troublemaker running in fear or apologizing profusely

blondie - apart from committing forgery in cupid's name, she also gets the word out on her mirror blog when they have an event happening soon!

[rheanyraaaa]

Water Lilly (Part 1)

Robb Stark x Frey!Reader (F)

Enemies To lovers

Summary: Y/N Frey (reader) is the youngest daughter of Walder Frey, her mother being just another woman who died in childbirth, here she learns about her union with Robb Stark, King of the North, and she’s more then displeased of the sudden arrangement, but when she looks into his eyes for the first time. Now that’s something.

warnings: alcohol consumption, forced marriage

i fear i don’t know what i’m doing ISNT PROOFREAD also switched out from “You/your “ pronouns and “She/Her”

this was all pre written in my notes w my OC’s name and without “Y/N”/ & or You so i apologise if u do see a random girls name that’s not Y/N or You lmao (unless you’re your actual name) x

——————————————————————————

Y/N stirred awake, blotches of orange and pink sunlight spilling into the room through the curtains, she fluttered her eyelids as she made sense of her surrounds as always, this was the cold, stone room she called home. The bed was cold and stiff, much like the Twins, but the warmth of morning softened the chill in the air. She lay there for a moment, blinking up at the heavy wooden beams on the ceiling, and sighed deeply. She missed Dorne. The dusty winds and golden sands, the gardens that spilled over with sweet-scented blooms, and the warm laughter that lingered in the air, all of it was so different from the grim and graying walls of her father’s keep.

She was born in the river lands in the Twins to her mother, Lady Frey, who unfortunately passed away from childbirth, another forgotten face who lost their battle on the battlefield of the bed. As a youngling, Walder Frey sent her of to Dorne, where her mother had been born and brought up. Though, technically her mother was of Myrish descent, who just happened to be one of those descendants of immigrants who crossed the narrow sea for work. That’s how Y/N’s mothers side ended up in Dorne with no actual dorneish blood. Y/N was mixed, which was uncommon in Westeros, since Essosi’s and Westerosi’s did not mix all the well, and it was worse when Y/N’s features took favour to her mother, atleast she didn’t look as boring or unappetising as her sisters (though Roslin has always been beautiful.)

She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself as a handmaid poked her head through the door. “Good morning, my lady,” the maid greeted with a small bow. “Shall I draw your bath?”

Y/N nodded, her thoughts drifting as the maids bustled around, bringing in buckets of steaming water. The scent of lavender and rosemary filled the air, oh that was her favourite scent in the morning. Two maids helped her undress, and she sank into the tub, sighing as the warm water soothed her.

As one of the maids gently poured water over her shoulders, Irene spoke, almost to herself. “I was happier in Dorne,” she murmured, trailing her fingers through the water. “I want to go back there someday. To see my family again, to be… me again.” She looked down, smiling wistfully. “I was freer there, you know?”

One of the older maids, Meg, nodded with a sympathetic smile as she rinsed your hair. “Aye, my lady. They say Dorne has a way of bringing out the heart in people. But your father has his reasons for wanting you here.”

“He always has his reasons,” You said softly, her voice edged with resignation. She leaned back, letting the maids scrub the last traces of sleep from her limbs.

“You’re still Frey dearie. You’d never stay in Dorne for too long, though it’s built you, made you smarter.” Meg cheerily said, scrubbing and Y/N’s hair, throwing whatever ointments. Y/N hummed to this, she’s still Frey, the reason why she lingered in Dorne until her thirteenth was quite the random decision.

The other handmaiden, Nora, much younger and atleast 17 said to Y/N, “My lady, there’s talks about Lady Stark coming over here, apparently she’s looking for a bride for her son.” She spoke excitedly, washing at your arms.

“Stark? Northerner? he must be a rugged beast with no sense at all, must be another one of those brutes they breed up there.” You replied quickly, to think that a Stark would want to marry a Frey was also unbelievable, who would want to marry a big wolf?

“Your father’s picking between your sisters, then they have to be confirmed by my Lady Catelyn.” Meg continued, as you let them condition your hair and add some extra oils and essences to your bath time.

You nodded, not that you cared… well you thought it was interesting for one of them to ask for a hand in marriage, “What’s the reason for the marriage?” You asked, looking down in the soapy water.

“The crossing or something like that, they need it for the war.” Meg rattled on, scrubbing the last parts of you before preparing a towel for you.

“Of course.” You muttered, still sleepy from the terrible cold, wet night you all suffered from. “What’s the boy’s name?” You asked, less then cheery.

“Robb Stark? something like that. He’s know as the Young wolf, rides a wolf into battle, turns into one in the night. I think it’s a load of rubbish, but I do hear he’s handsome.” Nora spoke, rattling on about this Robb Stark and what good features he has and how much he resembles his Tully mother.

“Perhaps you have a chance though my lady.” Meg said calmly. As she was drying you off and wrapping yourself in a thick robe. “Lady Y/N,” she began, helping with the braid of her damp hair. “Your father could choose you, this rugged beast of a man could be your escape.”

“And leave you all behind? I doubt it.” You rolled your eyes at their failure at convincing you.

“It’s merely a suggesting. Do take it lightly.” Meg replied, trying to please you.

Y/N allowed the maids to dry her off, the steam from the bath still clinging to her skin, making the chill of the Twins feel sharper. She was dressed in a simple gown of dusky blue wool, plain but fitted, with embroidered vines of silver along the cuffs and neckline. Her hair had been braided into a crown, a few tendrils curling loose around her face, softening her expression as she wrapped herself in a fur cloak. She was ready to brave the drafts that snuck through the old stone walls.

As she made her way through the winding halls, Nora fell into step beside her. They walked slowly, their footsteps echoing off the stone, and Y/N’s voice was almost a whisper as they resumed their conversation.

“So, Lady Stark is truly searching for a wife for her son?” Y/N asked, her voice threaded with curiosity and a hint of skepticism. “Does she think it so simple to find one of us willing to move to the North? Nonetheless with this war, any one of us be part of it?”

Nora gave a soft laugh. “It seems your father thinks it’s simple enough,” she replied, glancing at Y/N. “But yes, word has it she wants a match to strengthen the ties between the North and the Riverlands. They say Robb Stark needs someone who’ll bring loyalty and strength to his cause, but also it’s an agreement for the crossing that will help him win the war”

“Loyalty and strength,” You mused, a smirk playing at your lips. “I wonder if Lady Stark knows much of the Freys.”

Nora chuckled at that, shaking her head. “Perhaps she only hears what she wishes. But you might surprise her, my lady. You’ve a spirit that could suit the North well. They say it takes a certain fire to keep warm in those freezing castles.”

You paused by an arched window, looking out over the river winding far below. The day was clear, and the wind swept in with a sharp bite, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and cold water. You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself. “I wonder if he’s anything like her, Robb Stark,” You murmured, almost to yourself. “I’ve heard Lady Stark is as proud and steadfast as the North itself.”

Perhaps,” Nora replied, leaning against the wall beside you. “But I’ve also heard he has some of his father in him. An honorable man, loyal to a fault, like Eddard Stark. A woman could do worse.”

“Could she?” You asked, turning away from the view with a sigh. “The North is distant, Nora. Cold. Unyielding. I’ve only known heat and light, gardens that stretch as far as you can see. Here, it’s all stone, and there, well, it’s ice, isn’t it?”

Nora gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could reply, a loud, impatient voice interrupted them.

“Y/N!”

They turned to see your half-brother, Merrett Frey, striding toward them, his expression bored and slightly sour. Merrett was a portly man with thin hair and a perpetually furrowed brow, looking as though everything he saw annoyed him.

“Y/N” he repeated, glancing from her to Nora, “Father wants to see you. Now.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, though you masked your annoyance quickly. “Did he say why?”

Merrett shrugged, clearly uninterested in details. “Something about a match. Said he wants you in the hall at once.”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Nora, a mix of dread and resignation in her eyes. “So it begins,” she muttered under her breath before she straightened, squaring her shoulders.

“Very well, Merrett,” she replied coolly, giving a final look out the window, as though Dorne lay somewhere beyond, waiting for her. “Lead the way.”

And with that, she followed her brother down the winding corridors, a feeling like ice settling over her heart.

The great hall of the Twins was dark and drafty as Irene entered, her cloak trailing behind her like a shadow. Walder Frey sat at the high table, hunched over with age, his piercing eyes watching her approach. He gave her a thin, sly smile, a glint of satisfaction in his gaze that made her stomach twist. Around him, a few of her siblings and half-siblings lingered, pretending to be occupied with anything other than her arrival.

She stopped before him, lifting her chin defiantly.

“Y/N,” he began without ceremony, his voice as thin and cutting as the river wind. “I’ve struck a deal with Catelyn Stark, and I’ll hear no argument. You’ll be marrying Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, and doing your duty as a Frey. Our alliance with the Starks strengthens us. You should be proud.” He then took a chug out of his red wine.

You felt your throat tighten, her voice sticking as she forced herself to speak. “Father, surely… surely there’s someone else more suited to this—“

Walder’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll be good because I say so. We’ve not been offered a match like this, not in a long time. A wolf from Winterfell, boy or not, could make you a queen if you play it right. But you’re to do as I command,” he said, his tone turning as cold as steel.

You opened your mouth to protest further, but his stare silenced you. Your voice faded, her gaze lowering. You realized then, painfully, that you had no choice.

“Yes, Father,” she murmured, her voice resigned. “As you wish.”

He grunted, satisfied. “Good girl. Go on, then. I expect you’ll be a dutiful wife.”

Days later, Y/N stood in her chamber at the Twins, a quiet stillness surrounding her as she prepared for the wedding. She thought back to Lady Catelyn’s gaze when they first met sharp and cool. Catelyn had looked her over with an assessing eye, her expression revealing nothing as she took in Y/N’s every detail, from her posture to her expression. Y/N could practically feel the weight of Catelyn’s silent judgment, her assessment of whether Y/N would be fit to stand beside her son in both marriage and war. After what seemed an eternity, Lady Stark had finally given a curt nod, deeming her acceptable.

You slipped into your wedding gown, a simple yet beautiful piece the seamstresses had hurriedly prepared. It was made of silken ivory, with long, elegant sleeves that flowed to your wrists, and a fitted bodice embroidered with delicate silver leaves. The gown was free of unnecessary adornment, simple yet striking, with a modest neckline and a trailing skirt that whispered over the stone floor behind you.

Your hair, braided the southern way, with a shimmering veil falling infront of your face and behind you, covering up the meek expression you held.

“You’re shining.” Nora spoke sadly, knowing this was probably the last time they’d see eachother. Her voice soft and filled with acceptance.

Meg, the older maid who had helped raise you, stepped forward as well, her eyes misty with emotion. “Be strong, my dear. You’re braver than you think.” She reached out and gave your hands a squeeze.

“Il miss you both,” A knot in your stomach tightened, this was really it. You bid your goodbyes before making your way down the hall outside, your father taking your arm with that wretched grin he always had on, the doors opening, the Stark flag hoisted alongside your own one, you didn’t dare look up from your feet, the chill air hitting you immediately as you were clutching at your fathers arms before he let you go and you had met with what looks to be Robb Stark.

You couldn’t really see him well with the veil and you’re sure he couldn’t see your face at all. A moment later after the septa spoke, he removed the veil over your face, and his eyes.. something in it softened, they were pools of dark blue, and you swear you felt your heart thump a little faster. He was rugged yet handsome, with the wolf emblem on him, you saw him quickly look at someone else, rather this other young lady before looking back at you, that lady having a rather solemn look on her face. You knew straight away that was his lover, and this would be even more complex then you had anticipated. You said your vows and shared a kiss, your lips much softer against his chapped ones, but perhaps you felt that warmth again. Maybe this could work, or maybe you were doomed to fail.

——————————————————————————

tags!!! (Tell me if you want to be tagged in pt2)

@samieree @maysileeewrites

[pulluppuddles]

initiation

cw: manipulation, intoxication, gaslighting, omorashi, pet/puppy play,

at first, it seemed rly cool that the gorgeous sorority president on campus had invited u, a brand new freshman, to be her date to the greek life halloween party...u were anxious but oblivious as she introduced u to her sorority sisters while keeping a tight grip on ur waist, leading u around as she kept casually filling ur glass and encouraging u to drink...

it wasnt long before the alcohol caught up with ur bladder and ur brain...she was talking to the president of the frat club when it hit u...u needed to pee...now!

a small whimper escaped u as u clenched all the muscles in ur body and gradually, the urgency subsided... blushing, u try to duck out of her grip, sluring about needing the bathroom

she grips ur waist tighter and pulls u back, smirking..."excuse me, did u ask?"

u look up at her bewildered and suddenly, she pushes u against the wall, knee between ur legs, grinding against ur puppy parts

u cant help but let out a small moan as more partygoers turn to watch. she puts on a fake sympathy look and coos "aweee whats the matter pet? u know u've always had to ask before u leave my side, why would it be okay for u to disobey me now? did u think i wouldnt punish u here, in front of all of them?"

ur so drunk...so confused...is this true? u rly cant afford to think too hard about it rn as its taking everything u've got not to relieve urself and the constant rubbing of her knee on ur puppy parts isnt making it any easier

suddenly her knee is gone and u have to scramble to press ur legs together. she leads u outside where the party continues. there's a pool in the backyard and the sounds of the splashing r too much. u double over, holding ur crotch as everything in ur body screams for relief and u begin to leak.

suddenly u feel breath on ur ear and a soft growl tells u to piss urself. u want to resist but u cant help it, even as u hold urself, tendrils r snaking down ur legs. ur pissing ur pants in front of everyone. u start to cry as u continue to pee, everyone watching and smirking at u.

after what seems like forever, ur bladder is empty and she leads u back inside. everyone stares and smirks, hushed tones mentioning the sororitys new pet.

she leads u through the house to her bedroom, a metal cage with a big dog bed in it and warns u that this is ur bed and if u ruin it u wont get another.

she proceeds to strip u and clean u up, tsking at the slick in your underwear. "look how leaky u r pet" u blush as she lays u down on ur back in the cage and pulls on a pair of medical gloves

"now, be good or i will bind ur hands and feet. this is happening whether u fight it or not" u don't have a chance to wonder what that means before her hands wander down between ur legs and begin a thorough investigation of ur puppyparts

it isnt long before her soft touch has u foaming at the mouth, whining and pleading for more. she smirks and shuts the door of the cage...ur cage... "have sweet dreams pet" she purrs as she closes the door and returns to the party

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

[pink-melk]

warnings: gn/afab reader, office workers au, everyone is aged up 21+, power imbalance dynamics (toji is your boss), alcohol consumption, piss kink, wetting yourself, public urination, fingering, degradation, a lot of shame and embarrassment, mentions of classic japanese work culture

note: happy birthday toji the love of my life!!! my hc is he turns 47 this year :) old baby man this fic isnt beta read so apologies for any mistakes or whatever but please mind the tags! ♥

18+ minors and ageless blogs dni you will be blocked

"Can you take another?" Your boss, Toji asks with a fresh glass of booze waving in front of your face. Despite your churning stomach and blurred vision, you nod and take the drink.

When compared to other bosses you've worked for, Mr. Fushiguro isn't nearly as strict or serious in or out of the office. He's pretty lax about most things and creates a fresh work environment in the office — you love working for him, but that doesn't mean you're going to let go of all your formal training. At the end of the day, Toji is still your boss, and if he offers you the drinks other coworkers are buying for him, you take them with a smile despite it all.

The company had offered to pay for everyone's food and drinks to celebrate Obon in the short, mandatory holiday your office is given. Initially the plan was dinner and a couple of drinks, nothing too serious and definitely not an event that would bleed into the early hours of the morning. Despite missing the last train home, all your coworkers slowly tapped out through the night, sipping on the final drink Toji was bought when the last guest of your party leaves the bar.

Not long after do you both leave for the next bar on his agenda, something about watered down drinks; of which he hasn't actually drank himself. The peak summer air doesn't hit you as hard as it should, but it's enough to have you losing your balance only slightly when you step onto the uneven path.

Toji chuckles, a hand hovering over you, ready to catch you if you stumble but you're determined to maintain your composure. "You should go back to a hotel and call it there, you pounded a few drinks tonight."

You shake your head and grow dizzier from the action, inhaling deeply. When you offer your boss your best, most professional and sober smile, he grins. "I'm good." You say through a mouth of cotton. "Unless you want to go to your hotel — by yourself, I mean."

Raising an eyebrow at you, his grin widens and the scar on the corner of his lip stretches. He's so handsome and mysterious, you always wonder how or why he became the manager of your little team. As far as you know he doesn't have any familial ties to the company, he just fell into the position. While in your own head pondering Toji's existence, he had already set off down the street.

This part of Tokyo is much quieter than the main cities — much less expensive too. Toji had bartered with finance on where to eat since the company was being cheap, but the food was quite nice considering. It's a change in atmosphere from the bustling nightlife of Shinjuku or Shibuya. There aren't people sleeping on the streets or harassing police who patrol the area.

As quiet as it is, you're still unsure when your boss turns into a dark alleyway. It doesn't take long for him to realise you're not following him, standing on the edge of the streetlight, yellow frames his sharp features in a way that makes your mouth water.

"Come on, this way is faster." When you don't start following him, Toji steps forward. "Are your legs not working anymore? This isn't the office, that excuse isn't going to work."

You take a step back and bite the inside of your lip to hold back a pout. Maintaining professionalism when you're drunk is harder than it seems.

"It's…Dark."

Toji laughs, so loud it echoes off of the walls of the abandoned buildings he's stood between. "How about I protect you? You're safe with me." He smiles and you can't help but feel at ease. "I can't lose my best employee or else the team would collapse."

All you can muster is a giggle in response but begin to follow anyway. You trust your boss wouldn't let any harm befall you, best employee or not.

The alleyway is dark and disgusting, tucked away from any kind of life, it's just you and Toji. Streetlights peek in between the buildings the further you traverse down the path, only hearing the buzz of your veins in your eardrums and Toji's groan under his breath.

"Should've used the bathroom before we came out."

"The next bar isn't that far, is it?"

Toji doesn't answer but in the lowlights of the alley, you turn to see your boss pissing against the wall of a building. You jump and make an involuntary noise of surprise, embarrassed at what you'd just witnessed and turning away. The visual of your drunken boss leaning his forearm against the wall, forehead resting on the wall looking down at himself, hand on his soft cock with piss streaming out will forever be burned in your memories.

He groans and sighs in relief, continuing the steady stream that it sounds like he'd been holding for a while. The noise of his urinating sets off your bladder too, suddenly deciding you are ready to join him.

No, you tell yourself. You'll be a decent human being and wait rather than peeing in public — no matter the darkness or the privacy, you would never do such a disgusting and trashy thing in front of your boss.

"If you need to go too," Toji starts as he shakes himself dry and tucks his cock back into his pants, "Here's your chance 'cos the next bar is pretty far."

You do need to go and the more you think about it, the worse your bladder becomes. Holding onto your pride, you tilt your chin up and hum. "No, I can wait."

He laughs and you feel his presence behind you. "I won't look if you do, promise."

"I am not going to pee in an alley in front of my boss." You balk, turning around to face him and trying not to think about his piss.

"I'm drunk enough not to remember it…maybe, probably."

With a huff, you mumble "I'm still not doing it." And begin walking again, even if going to the bathroom and relieving yourself has become all you can think about.

Walking slowly, you try to concentrate on how not full your bladder is, on how nice Toji's piss sounded hitting the wall or his sighs of relief as he let himself go. You feel so full in a way that's not at all how you want and you're beginning to sweat in the muggy Japanese heat. Still on edge with your need to pee and maintaining a level of respect and professionalism with your boss, you jump and almost let yourself go when Toji hisses in your ear. Laughing at you, he teases with the sound of a running stream to encourage you.

"Don't…!" You start and cut yourself off, composing yourself while Toji grins all smug with an empty bladder. "Let's go to the next bar if it's far. It's too hot and gross out here. Please."

Your manners are slipping with each passing moment that your boss's cock is in your head. What if he remembers this and fires you? Maybe all of this was a test to see how you'd react, encouraging you to piss even within earshot so he can fire you for inappropriate actions.

Except when you began to walk again, Toji used his arm to intercept you and trap you against the wall. You moved quickly to avoid his touch — more out of politeness than rejection — caged between his arms on either side of your head. He's so much taller than you, bigger and buff he makes you feel like a little mouse.

It's so strangely intimate and inappropriate, your clit is beginning to throb with your swollen bladder. Needing to pee and growing horny is an odd combo.

"If you need to go," Your boss whispers in your face, "Then you should go while you can."

The strange combination of warm spice and alcohol is attacking your brain in a way that's so very unfair. It reminds you of work, stepping into Toji's office. The scent also reminds you of a long term lover storing their cologne in your bathroom, a homely reminder that sets your mind at ease.

Swallowing thick and trying to clear your head, you respond, "It would be inappropriate for me to do such a thing. I'm not a drunken slob."

You say, slurring every word.

He laughs. "Squat and piss for me right now." Toji's tone lowers, growing darker and your clit vibrates harder. "I'm your boss, aren't I? You'd listen to anything I tell you to do."

Looking up at him with almost wet, pleading eyes, you silently beg for mercy. Your bladder grows weaker with each passing moment, unable to stop yourself from thinking about peeing. The sweet relief every other time you've urinated, how shameful it would be to piss in front of him — you don't even consider the reason why he's poking and prodding you about going.

Toji grins, something so wicked and devious, it makes you forget this is your boss and not a hot guy you fell into at the bar. The last thing you want to do is disappoint your boss but it's clear the manipulation tactic he's using, though the power he wields over you is doing unspeakable things to your clit. He has the power to fire you at the flick of a wrist, to make sure you never work in Tokyo ever again, and you wonder if he will do exactly that if you do or don't do as he says.

Bladder so full, you sweat bullets as Toji continues teasing you. "You had a lot of drinks since I last saw you use the bathroom — that was a couple of bars ago, yeah? You're probably full to bursting."

To emphasise his point, your boss presses his fingers into your stomach, poking around to find your swollen and urine filled bladder. It's such an inappropriate and intimate act, your boss should never be touching you like this even as a joke, yet you find yourself almost wishing he would find it. Each press of his fingers over your shirt sends shocks of excitement throughout your body, as though his body was made of electricity. You wish he would touch you skin to skin, rub his hands over your stomach and really take his time trying to find the perfect spot to press.

When he finds your sensitive organ, you squirm and involuntarily cry out at the pressure. Toji grins, "I'm just trying to look after you." His voice is low; hot, alcoholic breath hitting your lips and you wish to devour the taste. "Be a good worker and make sure you relieve yourself when you need to."

He continues poking your bladder, savouring your whines and gasps before the same hand finds its way beneath the waistband of your pants. It's all too much; trying to focus on not pissing yourself, the distracting thump of your clit with arousal, alcohol swirling in your veins and the spinning of your head. Toji's hand moves so fast in your pants, snaking down beneath your underwear in the tight space and carefully sliding between your folds to find your clit. The skin-to-skin contact makes your legs tremble and when his fingertips prod your swollen bud, you can't hold back anymore.

You release yourself then and there, suddenly sober enough to see the surprise on your boss's face. The sweet relief of your bladder being emptied is almost as good as an orgasm, momentarily embracing the warmth between your legs. For a second, you forget it's piss and not a warm bath you'd sunken into. You keep going and going, there's no way to stop as your pants grow unbearably damp and liquid trickles all the way down your legs, dripping onto the concrete. It's quiet bar your whimpers of relief — you can't bring yourself to look at Toji.

While your empty bladder and throbbing clit with your boss's hand still in your pants is nice, the alcohol seems to hit you again with a fresh wave of embarrassment and shame. Nausea swirls in your gut and you hold back from giving Toji more reasons to fire you; not just fire you, but blast your crimes of disgusting behaviour all over Tokyo. Your family name will forever be tarnished because you don't know how to control yourself, acting like a child soiling themselves in front of your boss. You're ready to hand in your resignation immediately — that, or kill yourself before the sun comes up.

Toji laughs and you still can't bring yourself to look at him. If he hadn't trapped you against the wall with his enormous frame, you'd have run far, far away, never to be seen again. His hand remains in your pants, the heel of his palm pressing against the peak of your lips as his fingers press along your folds, having moved to hit the hot stream of piss coming from you.

"I didn't expect you to piss yourself." Your boss chuckles in disbelief and you wish the ground would collapse beneath you. "You're disgusting."

It's said with a smile, you can hear it but it doesn't soften the blow on your heart — or your clit.

You gasp when his fingers slide inside of you. Two of them at once, thick and stretching you so delicious, you instinctually grab onto Toji's arms for leverage. You're confused; he just called you disgusting, he's laughing at you, why is he continuing to touch you? Instead of running away like you expected, he pushes himself closer to you, trapping you further between his body and the wall. His hips press into yours, his hand still buried in your pants and fingers in your cunt between you, hips flush against yours with his prominent erection prodding you. Toji pants in your ear as he moves in and out of you, dipping his head into the crook of your neck to get as close as he possibly can.

He's…getting off to this? It's hard to make sense of the situation, about anything that's just happened. Forced to piss yourself in an embarrassing act, your reward is being fingered in an alleyway at two in the morning. Still, you cling onto your boss, melting into his touch and allowing yourself to make the most of his generosity.

"So dirty, a filthy bitch." Toji whispers in your ear and you can't help the way your walls tighten in response, thriving off of the degradation. You are a dirty and disgusting bitch. "Would you piss on me again? If I put my cock in your pretty pussy, would you piss all over my thick, hard cock?"

You're breathless from the combination of his fingers and repulsive suggestion. Stars litter your vision and you know it's not from the alcohol. Nodding your head against his shoulder, you hum and whisper a breathy "Yeah."

Toji groans loudly, something from the back of his throat, pulling out before you'd even come close to finishing. Before you have a chance to process anything or maybe run away from shame, he's pulling your feet off the ground and hooking your knees on either side of his hips. The feeling of your slowly cooling piss being forcefully pressed into you by your boss's hips isn't something you ever expected to experience. His hard, clothed cock against your sodden and clothed pussy has you dizzy and drooling, though. Kissing you with desperation, he's all teeth and tongue and alcohol to the point you can hardly breathe. Everything feels like the strangest dream but you aren't complaining in the slightest.

"We're getting a room and some drinks," He demands, just as breathless, "And you can make a mess on my cock."

If you were any more drunk, you'd be convinced you're hallucinating as your boss drags you by your hand out the alleyway, intending to feed you drinks until you piss on him again.

[eilishalways]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

all you wanna do is kiss me - pt 2

summary: a follow up to the first part 🤭

warnings: alcohol consumption & people being tipsy

a/n: I HOPE THIS ISNT BAD LMAOO

it was two nights after the grammys, and billie was fretting. you had given her your number at the end of the night, but billie was still too scared to text you. she lay in her bed, not knowing what to do. you were very nice about giving her your number - eager, almost, but billie was still too nervous? what if she said something weird? what if you didn’t want to talk to her? there were so many bad scenarios possible.

billie looked at the time. it was 5 to midnight. would you even be up? would you be asleep? were you talking to someone else? she was scared. very scared. she went downstairs and made herself some coffee, and sat at the breakfast table. she contemplated what to do. as she was scrolling through instagram, she saw you had made a new post. two images, both very risqué. the caption was just the telephone emoji. billie blushed, and took it as a sign to text you. so she did.

billie sent you a simple ‘hey’, not expecting you to reply till morning. but within five minutes you responded back with ‘who’s this?’. billie had forgotten that you had only given her your number, and you hadn’t exchanged them.

it’s billie

oh hey!! how are you?

i’m good, hbu?

the conversation continued well into the night. it was 4am when you finally said ‘look, i’ve gtg now. it’s really late.’ billie was sad but responded with ‘yeah it’s super late’. but before you went to sleep you asked her ‘would you like to come round to my house tomorrow? well, technically today.’ billie immediately typed back with ‘i’d love that’

sounds good. i’ll send you my address later. also - bring a swimsuit. we can get in my pool!

that sounds really nice! what time should i be there for?

uhhh, maybe at half 6 or 7? i’ll cook up a bit of dinner.

sounds great! see you then!

despite billie’s coolness over text, she was absolutely freaking out. dinner at your house??? getting in your pool???? she wasn’t able to sleep after that, too nervous to focus on anything else. thankfully she wasn’t doing anything that day, so she could try to figure out what to wear and should she bring anything.

fast forward to midday, billie was eating her lunch, still thinking over what she might wear? a tshirt and jeans? a dress? a jumper? the options were endless, but none seemed right. she couldn’t just ask you what to wear as well - that’d be weird. billie finished her lunch and went back up to her room to decide what to wear. as she opened her wardrobe, something caught her eye. a top she had worn from a concert she did in dublin, with marilyn monroe’s face as a pattern on it. she knew she’d wear it, but she had to find a swimsuit to wear first. she rifled through a drawer until she found a simple black one, nothing too special but nothing too drab either. she took off the pyjamas she was already wearing and stuck the swimsuit on. after that, she put on the top and paired it with some black shorts, nearly replicating the previous concert outfit.

five o’clock came quicker than billie thought, and soon after that she was on the way to your place. although you both lived in LA, you were pretty far from eachother. so billie decided to be safe rather than sorry & left early. when she got to the door, she hesitated to knock. your place was so big & modern that she was slightly intimidated by it. but after a minute of careful consideration, she knocked. you answered the door in seconds, dressed in a short dress. billie’s heart skipped a beat as you led her inside. she followed you to the kitchen, where she smelled the familiar aroma of her favourite noodle soup.

“i followed the recipe from your insta highlight,” you said, “so i hope it’s alright. i’m sure you make it better than i do.” billie thanked you for the meal as you both sat down at the table and began to eat. you talked about a lot of things… the grammys, the media, upcoming tours, etc. billie found herself falling more and more in love as the conversation went on. about 20 minutes later, billie finished her noodles at the same time you did, and again thanked you for it. you smiled and said it was no bother. “how do you fancy getting in the pool now?” you asked. “that sounds really good,” billie smiled, “i’ve got my swimsuit on under this, actually.” your smile lit up even further as you replied “i do too!”

you both got out of your clothes and hopped into the pool. “its so warm.” billie remarked. “yeah, i have heaters in it.” you said smiling. billie looked you up and down, in awe of your swimsuit that made you look like a goddess. you swam around together for a while before you left the pool, saying you’d be back in a minute. “ok, see ya in a minute.” billie replied, wondering what you were doing. billie was surprised when you came back with two wine glasses, and a bottle of a really expensive red wine. “wow,” billie said, “is this for us?” “well, who else would it be for?” you laughed. you poured the wine into the glasses, and handed billie one. she took a sip, and watched as you did the same. “it’s really good,” billie commented, “don’t think i’ve had this before.”

as the evening went on, you and billie drank more wine, and slowly got more tipsy. you smiled at billie as she told you about a song she was in the middle of recording, her face lighting up in excitement. “you’re so pretty.” you said abruptly without a warning. billie blushed. “so are you.” she responded, the alcohol making her more confident. “like- really pretty,” you went on, “super pretty.” billie didn’t know how to respond. being complimented by the woman she had a massive crush on? she was blushing like mad. “i could- i could just kiss you.” you said, a smirk on your face. billie didn’t respond as a shocked expression took over her face. you waited a few seconds before leaning in and kissing her. billie kissed back immediately, setting her glass on the side of the pool. you kissed her passionately, and she did the same. you continued like that for a while, until you were making out with eachother.

“wow.” was all billie said. “you’re a good kisser.” you remarked, a hand still on billie’s cheek. “i- i really liked that. like, really liked that.” billie confessed. “me too.” you smirked, before leaning in to kiss her again.

[weebsinstash]

Now don't get me wrong, I like how... calm and unbothered Alastor is, or at least tries to pass himself off as being

but like.... we know he's a drinker.... and we know certain details about him having an alcoholic abusive father who was cruel to his mother which heavily influenced his whole Dexter serial killer morality bs... and I can't help but think of a fic idea where Reader and Alastor are together and, suddenly without warning you break up with him BECAUSE YOU CHEATED ON HIM. you're like, legitimately heartbroken and missing him but you broke up for a good reason and, time passes and you dont see or hear from him, you're basically just going on with your life, and, MEANWHILE HE'S JUST SLOWLY DEVOLVING IN A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOW MEOW

His radio show comes on and he's SLURRING and people are aghast. Alastor is usually such a classy gentleman, so careful with his image??? Meanwhile he's in his radio station with several glasses of whiskey and staring at a wall lined with your photos while he's broadcasting, "ohhhh hEeeEy LiSteNers!! How-how are you all doing this.... 😡LOVELY😤 evening. Isnt..... isn't it... so nice to... spend time with loved ones when you need them? 🥴 WELL I WOULDNT KNOW HA HAH HA" *cue 30 straight uninterrupted seconds of unhinged laughing from a man clearly having an emotional crisis* "so on tonightsssshow I was-i wasszzz hoping to-to discussss-"

Like imagine tuning into his show after avoiding it because it broke your heart and it turns from him like, having an actual topic and planned structure of his show, to then, one day you overhear a broadcast and he's just occasionally slurring, saying really really vague shit about how "real men are supposed to be strong enough to protect and hold onto those they hold dear" and you can occasionally hear the THUNK of his whiskey glass hitting the table meaning he's already drunk but still drinking WHILE broadcasting and, oh honey you already sound so wasted you don't need more--

You guys don't understand. I want this man having a very PUBLIC very MESSY mental breakdown because he was CRAZY IN LOVE WITH YOU and you sat him down and told him you love him deeply but you need sex and you've cheated on him REPEATEDLY and EVEN THEN he was HARDCORE COPING, "w well as long as you promise it won't happen again-" "I cant and i won't. I love you but i cant repress this part of myself" LIKE YOU DECIMATE THIS MAN. Alastor's just beside himself because like, not without valid feelings but you're basically dumping him to fuck strangers. Like. I just. What if he literally had a ring box or was starting to realize he's demisexual on the ace spectrum and was starting to have Those Feelings for you and you're just. Breaking up with him, and all he hears is "sorry but having these disgusting men I don't even know hunch over on me grunting like disgusting animals and defiling me who is definitely way too good for them is way better than being with you my respectful funny classy charming totally-not-husband"

I want you to be walking down the streets of Hell and Vox suddenly comes on their equivalent of a jumbotron and he's visibly beside himself with excitement, "BREAKING NEWS, THE RADIO DEMON IS PISS DRUNK IN THE GUTTER LIKE A FUCKING LOSER, MORE NEWS ON THE SCENE" and it just snap cuts to him facedown in the street somewhere. Have you ever seen Intervention. You can have grown ass adults with successful careers and loving communities and when they find something that breaks them you'll be seeing shit like, children finding their mothers literally passed out in the yard because they were too drunk to get into the house or even WALK properly. So. You just. See him in this legitimately pathetic absolutely humiliating state and you can't help but feel that that's YOUR fault, meanwhile Vox is living his best fucking life, GOD FORBID VOX SEES YOU STANDING THERE CRYING ON THE SIDEWALK, he's then broadcasting your crying face all over Hell, "Hey Alastor even your EX is CRYING AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY LEFT YOU HUH" and like. The live feed of Alastor shows him just, struggling to even lift his head to look up to, wherever, and see your image there, looking absolutely devastated, looking at him with pity and heartbreak. oh, his sweet beloved, looking so distressed because you see him so weak...

Vox is just living it up mocking both of you but he's made several enormous mistakes by putting you on the air, especially looking like THAT, especially with Alastor in this mental state, and ESPECIALLY to mock you when you're already looking so broken. The feed cuts. All the TVs read "LOST SIGNAL" and nothing comes back on the news for the rest of the night. Less than a week later, the radios are on again, and Alastor sounds... completely back to normal? Chipper, even? And at first you're happy to hear he's all good and well, but, there's something about some of the things he's saying that are making you a little.... nervous?

"You know folks, it took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long while to realize that, a true traditional man puts the needs of others above himself, and especially the needs of his special somebody! One can't truly care for one's loved one properly if you're too boggled down with, FEELING SORRY for yourself right? How else are you going to... defend what's yours if you just lie down and take it?"

"So while I was off the air, good listeners, I was doing quite a bit of, spring cleaning, let's call it! Yes, I was... unfortunately very busy, having to wrangle up quite a few.... disgusting, insignificant, dirty, thieving PERVERTS!!!! ....but now that that's all good and done with, I'd certainly like to think these streets are a little more... respectable!"

"To end the broadcast tonight, a final word to all my fellow men out there. If you happen to discover that, for whatever reason, your beloved has run off with another? It was because you deserved it for being WEAK. You allowed another man to just, COME IN and... DESECRATE what is precious to you? Disgraceful. Pathetic. Ill-mannered. You cannot call yourself a worthy partner if you simply allow your beloved to waltz themselves into the mouth of danger, can you? So, a little piece of advice from your humble host here tonight: Take back what is yours. Take them back, do not let them go, and do not let anyone EVER soil your love ever again. ........Also hey! Don't forget that the annual Cannibal District Cook-Out is this coming weekend so be sure to--"

[missmarveledsblog]

I gotcha cap (Steve Rogers x reader) part three

Summary: He needs to make it right but she isnt letting him even near her so he get help off of their friends .

warning : slight angst , fluffy , goofy , idiots in love , mutual pinning

previous part

the blinding sun that had instantly regretted not closing the blind before she hit went to bed. not knowing what hurt more was it her head that thump and felt like it was gonna explode . was it her pride on being stood up on her not date date . she may of snuck out of the room once was sure he was gone . headed to the living room , importantly using her ability to burn the lock off of the liquor cabinet. She didn't stay undetected for too long for Tony to come see what she was doing and then an hour later Natasha was joining them . Now she was sure her blood was more alcohol than it was actually blood, stumbling from her bed . Pulling the shades on her eyes she dragged herself from the bed , stumbling down the hall to the dinning room to see both Natasha and Tony in the same state as she was .

“ You're a bad influence” the billionaire groaned his head laying on the table .

“ I did not influence you , you asked me to pour you a glass” she yawned sitting down ignoring a certain pair of blue eyes looking at her .

“ yeah cause your were sad anyways let not do it again” he couldn't even look at her it was too much of an effort.

I guess it laps today, your new recruit huh ?” clint nudged Natasha making her growl at the man but then nod .

“ whos the new recruit “ she asked looking up finally a slight catching of steve glance forcing herself to look at nat.

“ that jessica chick right?” sam spoke up .

“ yeah i think and some drills too once i can just observe” nat gave a sneaky smirk.

“ well good luck .. i'm not so hungry “ she stood, taking a cup of coffee and rushing out of the room.

“ y/n hey wait please” steve called rushing after her.

“ just leave me alone steve , my head hurts and I think i might throw up so lets just pretend nothing happened ok … please” she sighed.

“ but i didn't mean to stand you up i would of never of did that , she turned off my phone and kept telling me i still had time even showed me hers so i trusted her word and now i fucked up honestly of all people to let down and hurt you are not even close to being one of them” .

“ you did though , you made me look like such an idiot , you made me think … look it doesn't matter, maybe in time we can be friends but can you just let me breathe to do so?” she almost pleaded.

“ i wanna make it up to you please give me a second chance , please all im asking “

“ no i don't think we should ” .

she spent the day staring at the computer , trying to work in the lab with the bright lights was a bad idea now she was in her office , the lights dimmed and although the hangover was dimming and some of nats “drills” training made her mood a lot better. the petty side of her enjoy the soft torture of the bitchy agent and it sure wiped the sneering smile off ofhier face . now what she didn’t expect was the widow coming to the office hours later pulling her out of the room and dressing her up , not saying a word the whole time other than “stop whining “ or “ no feeling sorry for yourself “. probably a girl dinner night or something to cheer her up . begrudgingly she just followed even in the car , they talked about everything but the friendly hostage situation til they pulled up to well nothing .

“ you planning on killing me because joke on you it mean i wont have to do my reports “ she smirked.

“ no im doing this because I love you and you need to be happy and Tony's liver would be grateful” the widow kissed her cheek and led her to a footpath . “ now its down here straight ahead” .

“ ok this is only fueling my fear of you trying to kill me romanoff , hey in a wooded area where i could leave all this evidence and you know …. nat ? “ she turned to see the widow gone completely. "So I am gonna die “ she groaned. ok so now she was maybe more curious just following the footpath til she noticed red. that had her on alert , into action as she stop her feet lighter moving , eyes darting around to access any threat. now she was slightly afraid the bew recruit was gonna be at the end of this footpath and she was gonna be an accessory to murder.

“ oh thank god “ the breath of relief as she notice it wasnt blood but petal followed by more til the whole footpath was covered in these red petals .

the whole thing only made sense once she reached the clearing and now maybe she would be the one to hide a few bodies now .

There he stood in the clearing around the man where lights wrapped around the beauty of nature . a picnic table in the center with the same lights wrapped around the legs , her favourite flowers in the center. She wanted to hide how impressed she was. For a moment it wouldn't seem possible til she straightened herself up , crossing her arms trying not to smile or give anything away . including how good the man looked before her, the white dress shirt and black pants combo making him look like he stepped out of some steamy romance novel , the way the material of his clothes clung to the muscle she's found herself literally drooling over.

“ Please sit down?” pleading tone as she rolled her eyes and stepped more into the clearing saw the scorched mark still prominent in the ground. it was first time she had shown them her abilities , the one she had to hide all her life in persecution .

“ What is all this?”.

“ I wanted to make it up to you .. with nat's help of course … please just one chance” he came closer .

“ You seem to making a lot of effort for a not date” she mused while looking around .

“ well let this actual date make up for it” .

“ is this because of the not drunk confession because a pity date isn't necessary” she huffed wondering how her week took such a nose dive.

it's not a pity date its an actual i like you too date and dont wanna screw up “

“ touch of kidnapping” she nodded, not hiding the smirk on her lips .

“ with a touch of kidnapping, “ he laughed.

“ Fine I yield mainly because i'm hungry and I thought nat was feeding me “ she watched him pulling out the basket pulling out the canister and the tupperware .

“ ok food might be cold “ he winced, opening the tubs and putting the contents on a plate .

“ i got it “ she rolled her eyes over the plates for a couple of seconds as steam began to bellow . “ it help when i was younger” she shrugged easily, handing him back one .

“ ok so canister has coffee or we have wine” .

“ coffee i don't think i could look at alcohol for a good while “ she laughed flashback of her and tony drinking games . “ So why here?” .

“ honestly it was the first place we got to see you for you , like the real you” her breath caught in her throat at his admission . “ you were so scared and so nervous but then you opened up , i always wondered why , why you were so scared”.

“ because i was taught to be , because the world taught me to be.. i mean unless you're an avenger or some high profiled hero , mutants or enhanced whatever you're side of that fence is, well it not something to celebrate it was and still is something people find to fear and with fear comes hate” she smiled sadly. “ my dad as crazy as he was , well he wasn't all wrong , we lived in chicago for a little until i thought my friend would accept me so i showed her what i could do and then that evening we had people yelling outside our home for the mutants to leave i was four when i learn what hate was truly and very real so when we moved to new york , my mom was chased down, hunted down and my dad began training soldiers for doomsday”.

“ that's why it took you so long to tell us you were enhanced” he asked not even noticing he grabbed her hand , the subconscious need to comfort the woman in front of him .

“ i know it's stupid to think giving wanda and pietro” she laughed. “ but yeah i think that fear or rejection was still there except tony stark lit up like a christmas tree at the sight” .

“ wheres your dad now? maybe you could show him its not like that now right”.

“ hes on the raft steve its still like that for him , i ran away i was maybe fourteen i didnt wanna live my life in fear and not live it at all “ she smiled sadly . “ great first kidnapping date content right here” she snorted .

“ we can talk about something else if you want,” he squeezed her hand .

“ no i mean i come to terms with it all , but i am curious why you didn't ask for me help?” .

“ honestly because you make me nervous , like when i talk to you suddenly i'm that small fry from brooklyn who couldn't look a dame in the eye and i mean you come into our lives with this air about you , this funny yet caring nature , you work hard to make sure everything run smoothly and you only one who can truly handle tony “ he smiled brightly.

“ pepper asked me for tips. Well, praise from the america's golden boy is nice. I must admit , I've learned to just be myself” her cheeks flushed.

“ also doesn't help that your most beautiful woman i've come across either, you must think i'm a dummy when i take to you because you make my brain short circuit by just smiling i mean the words just mix and melt together “ a braveness taking over like he couldn't stop, all the feelings that he held in for so long falling out of his mouth before he could stop .

“ you dont seem to have a problem with words now ? “ she giggled even freezing at the sound like was that her ?.

“well i guess i need to let it out now hopefully it will get you to forgive me, i only trained that agent hoping i could help and get over my nervousness because i was going to work up the courage to tell you how i really felt so i stupidly thought i could work through them by getting the blood pumping i didn't see the scheming part i guess i need lesson in people “ he grimaced .

“ Well I mean the food and coffee is working on the forgiveness so it this get up “ she mused hinting at his outfit making his cheeks flush . “ stand me up again date or not I will roast you up and serve you on that shield of , tony liver can't take it … apparently” she warned playfully .

“ well that wont happen and if i may say you look absolutely stunning “ he kissed her knuckles getting braver .

“ flattery will get you everywhere mr rogers but you can thank nat for this she literally dressed and dragged me here , im less mad at her for it “ .

She wasn't lying when she said that she was less pissed at him , conversation carried on more and more . she shared a little bit more of her childhood , the little handful of happy memories ,while he shared some of his from his childhood, a vast and different time . She couldn't help laughing thinking back to the hijinks that he and Bucky got up in that timezone . She asked him questions , getting to know the man behind the shield . Each minute , each hour passing by it was easier to get over that anger she felt but it also meant that he was getting braver , more flirty in his tone . Even when they finished their food he hit his phone as the speaker came to life . The blue jazz sound echoed in the woods . making the man stand before her holding his hand out that her . enjoying how perfect her hand fit in his , how his hand dwarfed hers . standing the crinkle of the foliage under their feet , his other hand on her hip pulling her closer. the swell of pride at her breath hitched at the bold movement . the sway of bodies to the rhythm and getting lost in the love story the song sang out. eyes locked pouring every unsaid emotion . he held her close in away that he was afraid to let her go, everything hes dreamed of was happening in real time. the first time he'd truly felt peace in the stormy war that was his life . the fist time it was serene that he could fully completely savour and enjoy the moment. his eye darted to her lips only to catch her doing the same, her tongue swiping the pillow plump soft lips . two leaning closer and closer til their foreheads pressed. a surge of bravery one he never felt before taking his hand off her hip and leading to cup her cheek , tilting her face up more before he leaned down .

At first it took her brain a second to recognise , to make the connection that captain Steven Grant Rogers was kissing her. not wasting another second she finally kissed the man back for the first time in a long time. It made sense . all the cliches from every romance book , rom com in existence, that foot popping , fire works going off kiss. seeing the sun rise and set for the first time kind of kiss. One that only starred in her dream and stopped when her alarm would go off. Everything felt electric in that one kiss , like nerves came alive ones she didn't even know she had . pulling back both needing air and yet he couldn't stop kissing her , pecking her lips in between breaths already addicted to her lip , to her taste .

“ god you don't know how long i wanted to do that “ he chuckled breathlessly, his forehead pressing against hers.

“ Don't worry I gotcha Cap “ she smirked pressing her lips to his once more

[last-starfighter]

plural playlist? plural playlist

ive been makin a playlist thats all "songs that make me think about bein plural/have plural vibes/are about trauma and systems/whatever" for a hot second. im not 100% happy with it but yknow i think we all need a distraction rn so.

have like 3 hours of ✨songs to split yr personality to✨ /s

if u vibe with this u can reblog it. this aint just for did systems or endo systems or trauma systems or whatever its for anyone who wants it.

content warnings: self-destructive vibes/suicidal ideation, drugs/alcohol, unreality, amnesia, bad choices, bad headmate relationships, breakups, fuckin kpop for some reason

tracklist + explanations under the cut

hive mind - tmbg i think this one speaks for itself

birdhouse in yr soul- tmbg listen this one has fucked up headmate to host vibes tell me im wrong. im yr only friend/im not actually yr friend/make a place in yr soul for me.

voices in my head- naked eyes pure goddamn 80s cheese but the lyrics are on point

simple and clean- utada hikaru raise yr hand if yr a sora fictive, have a sora fictive in yr system, or were personally victimized by the end of kingdom hearts 2. yeah thought so.

my truth's a lie- psylosia i think this ones supposed to be about schizophrenia but tbh it works.

where is my mind? - the pixies ik its a cliche but you cant really have a crazy playlist without it.

paranoid android- radiohead again. ik its a cliche but here we are. it fuckin works. like half of radioheads back catalog does

blow up your mind- the cramps ok i know this is mostly here cause i wanted more punk shit but it works for how i feel about this shit? idk

my own worst enemy - lit tfw you have that One Guy who keeps makin the WORST DECISIONS (its me im the guy)

the becoming- nine inch nails the me that you know/he doesnt come round much/that part of me/isnt here anymore. WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO FUCKIN SAY.

i'm not there - sonic youth ok this is mostly there for the title and for the good distorted guitar but fuck me i like noise rock

never let me down again- depeche mode ik what this song is rly about but. sometimes you just gotta let the other guy take the wheel.

carousel - tempting fate thx @eklesia-system for this one- it has THE VIBES

disintegration - the cure and now that you know that im breakin to pieces/ill put out my heart and ill feed it to anyone/crying for sympathy crocodiles cry/for the love of the crowd and the three cheers for everyone

otherside- red hot chili peppers this ones for all the fictives out there who want to blow up their lives.

bodies (ghosts) - 1000 eyes can you believe we aint never played signalis? it has the vibes tho.

myth- delerium thx @endogenesis-evangelion for this one. its on fuckin point.

voices in my head- steve aoki/bassjackers/teddy bee can you tell part of this was just searchin spotify for 'voices in my head' lol. i think it has the vibes but ymmv

my favorite stranger - depeche mode can you tell host really fuckin likes depeche mode. lmao. ht to @the-masked-bandits-system for this one tho

voices inside my head- the police again do i really need to say anything

the passenger- siouxie and the banshees this is for all of us who sit and watch while other people do shit

the projectionist- thoushaltnot another @endogenesis-evangelion banger. thx forte

disconnection notice - sonic youth the narrator may not be plural but hes profoundly alienated from everyone and everything and thats close enough /meme

clones (we're all) - smashing pumpkins can you believe that there aint anything from siamese dream that fits on here. that title is ~pluralcore~ af. but nooooo

personality crisis - new york dolls is this a new guy or am i going crazy??? who knows???

imaginary friends - splitsville i hate the 'i' word as much as the next headmate but the song is good so.

who do you want to be - oingo boingo listen i know this is about 80s tv pop culture but like. ~source separation~ vibes. who do you wanna be today?

am i awake - they might be giants ik ik ik ik. tmbg is lemon demon for 80s/90s kids. but this has the dissociative vibes

voices in my head - falling in reverse what can i say about this one other than that its got the content warnings and its catchy.

birthright - celldweller thx @eklesia-system for this one - i think i got a new fave band from yr recs cause this fucks

lucretia my reflection - sisters of mercy lucretia / my reflection / dance the ghost with me

personal jesus- depeche mode feelin unknown n yr all alone/flesh and bone by the telephone/lift up the reciever ill make u a believer

voices in my head - vicetone + chelsea collins anxiety, wanting yr fuckass headmate to fuckin shut the fuck up

voices in my head - dj univxrsel another one from the spotify mines

imaginary friends - deadmau5 we needed more good fuckin crunchy edm on here. im tryin to get more into edm so if u got recs hmu. also fuck the title but this slaps

voices in my head (they said) - jack harris instead, instead of panicking again/ i'm making friends with the voices in my head

mad world - tears for fears i know this songs kind of a meme but the lyrics man. if you got hte trauma and u dont listen to tears for fears yr missin out on a band that gets it

whistling in the dark - they might be giants theres only one thing that i know how to do well/and ive often been told that you only can do what you know how to do well/and thats be you/be what yr like/be like yrself

over my head - lit overwhelm is a v system feel for us ig? ok ill own it this is mostly here to lift up the mood at the end.

imaginary friend (english version) - itzy ok this song is the whole reason this playlist exists. hosts partner is real into kpop and was listenin to this and we started laughin about how big the system mood is with this one and how"LYRICS GUY YR EXPERIENCES ARENT UNIVERSAL." it made me wanna see how many songs i could find about the system experience tho. i dont like kpop. at all. but this one speaks 2 me.

@endogenesis-evangelion @lizardywizard @furyfuzz @eklesia-system @thegmsys @the-masked-bandits-system all either wanted to see this playlist or recced songs to put on it. i didnt get to everyones songs so if u want urs on here- well ill see if i can cram it in somewhere lol

[miya-rin]

"i can't believe you got in a fight.”

“he hit me first, you just expect me to stand there and take that?"

a small chuckle leaves his mouth at your choice of words, standing between your parted legs osamu has been patching you up after a ‘small mishap’ with one of your classmates.

"obviously not, its just…" his voice trails off as he rummages around in the first aid kit until he finds an alcohol wipe, gently tearing it open before swiping it across your cheek, you wince in discomfort and he gives you an apologetic look. "sorry — its just, you're not really the type to hit someone, like i know you can defend yourself but cmon, you knocked him out."

"deserved."

"you really are something else." he laughs as he starts to dig around to find something else to slather over your face.

"thankyou."

"not a compliment."

“i'm gonna take it as one."

"i knew you would."

"yeah yeah whatever, you would have done the same.”

“oh yeah totally.” he picks up a tube of antibacterial cream and gently starts to apply it to the cut on your cheek, making sure to be extra careful as to not put too much.

“thankyou by the way.” he tilts his head up to look you in the eye for a split second before focusing back on the cream in his hand.

"hm?"

"for cleaning me up and that, thankyou."

"yeah well you probably wouldn't have, the blood would just be dried up all over your hands and face.”

"oh shut up," you let out a light laugh and by god you sound amazing "i'm not that bad."

"sure, whatever you say.”

the room elopes in silence — comfortable silence, the kind where you're not too worried if someone speaks or not, and yet you do.

"say, how long have you been dying your hair?"

"oh, i'm not sure, wh-" his words are cut short as he feels your hands snake up his undercut and into the dyed strands atop his head. shit he thinks, he so badly wants to look up at you, but he knows that if he does he won't be able to look away.

"it's really soft, what conditioner do you use? it must be good for it to not be completely dead."

"yeah." he stutters slightly, but just enough that you might not have been able to hear it. god he hopes you didn't hear it.

he still doesn't answer your question, staying quiet for a good minute or so before you decide to take action. gently tugging at his hair, an indication for him to look at you, he puts down whatever he was fiddling with and his eyes meet yours. they're a lot wider than normal, he almost looks scared, but from the dusting of pink spread across his cheeks you can tell it's something different. hes nervous.

“osamu, did you hear me?” the way you’re lightly scratching at his scalp turns him to putty in your hands. “i asked you a question.”

“uhm..i started dying it when i was like 13? so about 5 years now. and whatever conditioner my ma brings home.” you hum in approval as you continue to mess around with his hair.

“you know…i should probably finish bandaging you up.” he makes a start at grabbing some plasters to put over your bruised and bloody knuckles, avoiding eye contact even harder than before.

“wow, you wanna get rid of me that quickly? youre cold osamu.”

thats gets him to look at you.

“i never said that.”

“dont act dumb now, i heard you loud and clear.”

“youre putting words in my mouth.”

“oh so you’re accusing me now? this isnt the osamu i know and love.” as soon as that last word falls from your lips osamu burns a crimson red from his face to his neck and probably lower, choking on his spit and trying to catch his breath. if only you had your phone on you.

“you what?” he can finally speak by the looks of it.

“i love you. dont act like you didnt know.”

“yn, tell me youre joking.”

“are you rejecting me right now? thats a mean way to do it dont you think?”

“are you kidding me? ive had a crush on you since we were 15.”

“i know, why dont you do something about it?” you say with a sly smirk. he still looks on edge at the whole interaction, but theres no time like the present.

he lifts up his large and calloused hands to grab both sides of your face before bringing you into a sweet but passionate kiss, it doesnt last long as you are both conscious of the fact that anyone could walk into the schools medical room, but it is just enough to leave you both satisfied after years of pining. pulling away you are met with that boyish smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

“now that i think about it, im kinda glad you got into that fight…”

“so am i.”

[crimeronan]

OH. thought: while hes knocked out, THATS when luz comes back. because it would be horrifying for both of them.

luz rushes to the owl house right after killing belos and she walks in and hunter cant be roused and she FREAKS OUT. eda barely manages to calm her down with "hooty gave him sleeping nettles." and luz responds ".. AFTER THAT MUCH ALCOHOL?? IS THAT SAFE??" and eda is suddenly Disliking the fact that dead people can watch her commit crimes, Apparently.

meanwhile hunter is pleading with dream luz to stay with him, and then he just hears, in luzs voice, "hunter, hunter you need to wake up.. its ok.. i'm right here with you" and he knows it isnt dream luz. and he is so devastated because he knows she wont be there, but theres another part of him thats so heartbroken and desperate hes going to listen to her immediately. even if its not her.

and then, begrudgingly he wakes up. for a split second hes in so much pain cause hes still in the cabin so shes still dead, but.. luz is holding him and covered in belos goop and blood and looking like that and shes all "omg hi hunter!! :3 💓💓💓💞💞💖💖❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷"

i think hunter immediately deserves to burst into the most tears ever over this. just spend an hour, at least, crying uncontrollably while luz tries to console him. and they also deserve AT LEAST 48 hours in a luz protective light bubble where no one can bother them ever.

god, i just wrote a fic where hunter has a godawful dream and wakes up alone, but 1) this is the alternate good ending instead and 2) if it goes down like it does in the fic, i STILL want luz to come back shortly after hunter wakes up. because by that point he's gone from being in pain to being angry & luz shows up in titan form covered in gore like "hi <3" and hunter is like oh i'm still sleeping nettles dreaming. fine. Fine. what terrible things does my subconscious have to say to me this time

and luz just grabs him and holds him and is like "i'm sorry, i'm sorry i couldn't come sooner, i love you, it's okay" and hunter is like. this is the worst thing you could do to me. but okay. okay i can pretend

he starts to realize it's real within an hour but he's scared to acknowledge that, because if he's Wrong, then believing it's real is the fastest way to make the bubble pop. but eventually he comes around. probably after amity yells at him again.

and then yeah. absolutely he's just going to spend some time crying uncontrollably and refusing to let go of her. and then spend 48 hours in a light bubble where no one can bother them ever

amity feels incredibly fucking weird about witnessing all this and is like "umm okay i don't think i should see you this vulnerable so i can.... go...."

while luz is like "wait. amity blight. you have my allegiance 5eva. can i die for you too."