#tagging in case anyone has more info <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[malboraslihangifs]

hi, barbie! i hope you're well. i was just wondering if you knew how to label maia reficco with her ethnicity? i know she's a latina, but would she be considered a white latina because of she's argentinian, or somehow else? i hope it's okay to ask, i just want to use your gifs respectfully!

hi angel! i don't have a definite answer for you because from this interview my interpretation is that maia does not define herself as white but i've never seen her speak more on the topic other than saying she's a latina. the quote she gave about this that i'm talking about is:

It has definitely changed a lot. Being a Latina, growing up in Boston, in a predominantly white city, I felt forced to identify with what mainstream media was offering, but it didn’t offer anyone who looked like me or had my experience. It didn’t have Latinos, and it made me feel like an outcast.

i know other american actresses that have a latin background have spoken about being white or not (rachel zegler defined herself as a white latina and camila mendes spoke a few times about being pardo latina) and maia as far as i've seen never spoke about it beyond that one interview i've linked. unfortunately many americans don't really know the difference between race and ethnicity (lol) so for them having a hispanic / latino origin means being not white or whatever the fuck.

so, tldr: i'd not call her (or your muse) a white latina for sure, but i don't think it's safe to assume she identifies as this or that until she speaks about. i'd definitely suggest making sure your muse has an argentinian name and surname but that's all for now, i guess.

[mis-anthrapologistic]

[long post] random simplyplural inspo

cw: vague s/h warning in the first pic

our current custom fields:

* lyric / quote

blank field for a divider or graphic

* bday or forming date

* age

* appearance (verbal description)

* faceclaim (picture)

* other names

* prns & sexuality

* species

blank field for a divider or graphic

* role

* symptoms held

* activity (how often they front)

* complexity (fully formed or not)

* hierarchy

* subsystem

* relationships (internal & external)

* headspace location

blank field for a divider or graphic

* source

* pseudomemories or source memories

* source quotes

blank field for a divider or graphic

* weirdly specific opinions

* likes

* dislikes

* playlist

* irrational fears

* fun facts

blank field for a divider or graphic

* sign off

* fronting triggers

* reviews (that other alters leave about them)

* miscellaneous

* badges (stamps, blinkies, etc)

* credits

other random field ideas:

* mbti or other personality types

* talents & hobbies

* how to tell when the alter is at/near front

* handwriting, typing quirks, etc

* "this" or "that" type questions (cats or dogs, introvert or extrovert etc)

* other titles to refer to the alter as

* associations

* which alters helped fill out the profile

* stereotypical tropes?

* what types of dysphoria the alter experiences (height, gender, voice, etc)

* kins/synpaths

* what they would be bullied for in middleschool /hj

* "life written by: ___" (favorite writer, music artist, etc. basically, "they get me" or saying that their work is very relatable.)

* fursonas, oc's, etc

* how to make the alter feel more comfortable when they're at front, or if you're meeting them for the first time

* neopronoun or xenogender hoards

* what they would most likely be arrested for

* wishlist of things the alter wants to buy?

* if you're into things like danganronpa, then feel free to add a SHSL talent field :3

☆

we don't regularly add anyone on simplyplural, so we don't have that many privacy buckets. however, we do have one for all source related fields (faceclaim, source, mems, quotes, etc).

we also have a privacy bucket for the pronouns and sexuality field in case we ever add anyone we know irl.

for each of our role groups, we always include a definition for the role in the description/info box for those who may not know the term. ^_^

☆

other things we to do make our profiles a little bit more fun:

* silly quotes or references for the bios! we usually do twitter or tumblr references.

* over-use and abuse the description box for the groups. we always leave little notes, jokes, gifs, or extra graphics in ours.

* we have an info page at the top of our alter list where we include basic info about the sys. we also added a basic dictionary of system terms in the custom fields and some userboxes!

* make tons of silly groups. if you're running low on inspiration, check out those sorting memes where characters are put into certain scenario categories (hard to explain, but do you know what i'm talking about?). like... what characters would do in a fire, watching a horror movie, etc.

* also, groups for subcultures‼️

* get people outside of your sys to leave reviews about the alters to add to the "review" field! bonus points of they write it like a professional review or add "__/5 stars".

* we don't read fanfiction, but if you do, i recommend adding a section in the custom fields or groups for a hyper-specific AO3 tag or something!

* don't worry if your account isn't always super aesthetic. seriously, it's okay. your account layout has nothing to do with how valid you are. just make sure you have fun. :p

[fandomloreblog]

🗡️ Vergil Headcanons Post-DMC5 🫐

These headcanons are mainly for my DMC6 fanstory, but yall are more than welcome to claim them for whatever your silly hearts desire (if anyone does fanfics PLEASE TAG ME I am starved for content)!!!

Warnings: None! Pure fluff and giggles here!

Stuck in hell for roughly 3-5 months with Dante, so lots of impromptu bro bonding and family therapy. Hears about what The Order did and what happened with Nero and develops Overprotective Dad Syndrome™️ once he returns (Nero doesn’t know how to feel about it).

Ends up growing stubble and keeps it. Originally because he didn’t exactly have a decent razor (The Yamato can only do so much) but eventually grew used to it. His actual hair he keeps a bit longer, but tidy still and almost always naturally pushed back. Usually it’s only down once he wakes up or is too tired to fix it.

Actually uses the Yamato to cut a lot of stuff (hair, fabric, non-messy food, etc), his main issue is Dante using it. Nero grabbed it once to test the durability of a new Devil Bringer, and when Vergil attempted to get it back, Nero made a “Or what? You’re gonna take my other arm?” Joke that had him somewhat frozen for a solid 5 minutes.

V’s tattoo’s also ended up resurfacing, which he kept as a sort of “memento” of them. They glow when he’s annoyed or enraged, or just close to entering his Devil Trigger (think of djheretostay’s Demon Hunter Outfit Mod for Vergil in terms of look!)

Tries dressing somewhat more “humanly” and not “I am a demon in disguise wearing a hell boar skin coat and dragon scale armor”. Again, Demon Hunter fit is his go-to, along with still somewhat formal outfits, but still human-made and relevant to the fashion era. (He is somewhat embarrassed by his DMC3 fit looking back on it).

Starts cooking for the entire DMC after he returned. He discovered Dante’s poor eating habits when stuck in Hell and basically had to force-feed him scavenged food he whipped up to make sure he stayed healthy and didn’t starve. When they did get back, he took it upon himself to make sure Dante, Nero, and anyone else who was there get some damn veggies into their system. It’s basically his love language.

He made a whole vegan/veggie pizza once, and Dante didn’t notice the difference. Nero had to jump between the two when Dante found out, and now Vergil is required to notify what’s in whatever he cooks.

Ends up becoming cooking partners with Kyrie somehow? Kyrie wants to get into Vergil (technically her father-in-law)’s good graces, while Vergil wants to figure out something healthy that Nero and Dante will eat.

Speaking of cooking, Vergil actually has a wide knowledge on hell-based cooking and gardening. Due to his decades of experience living there (both as Nelo Angelo and Vergil), he actually knows more about Hell’s fauna and flora than Earth’s. As a result, he’s basically the go-to knowledge guy when it comes to dealing with anything that is more complex than “charging in and slashing up the demons”.

Ends up having a somewhat secret garden somewhere in his apartment where he grows the few fruits and veggies from hell that everyone likes. It’s sort of an open secret, but they don’t pressure him over it just in case he stops or gets embarrassed about it.

GOD this man becomes such a book nerd. Not even just for poetry, in general. While poetry is his favorite, he is curious about other books/genres, so he has a whole collection (again) at his apartment. Nico gave him a demon-based smut book to see what he’d do/react to it, but then he didn’t do anything? And no no one has the balls to question if he actually read the damn thing or hasn’t yet.

Speaking of The Apartment™️- it’s a small condo in a somewhat decent spot in Red Grave City. he actually owned it waaaay before DMC5. He got using some “totally legit funds” during his wanderings as a place to store info/supplies in his search for power. Basically he owns it outright and doesn’t have to worry about taxes, and it’s better to not ask questions.

Doesn’t really have much in terms of furniture. He has a bed, a dresser/closet, a bookshelf, the hell garden, and a few boxes, and that’s basically it. Very minimalist, but only because he doesn’t really exactly know what he likes in terms of decor (yet). Take him into an IKEA, and he’ll be sat in front of 4 near-identical lamps for 2 hours wondering what he likes best.

Still struggling with actually verbalizing that he cares. Very much an “actions speak louder than words” person, so he’s constantly doing small things/actions (like cooking) to show that. He’s trying hard to be a better person, and just hopes that everyone see’s it.

They do, Nero’s just too prideful to admit it, and Vergil takes everything Dante says with a grain of salt.

VERY SAPPY!!! He’s down bad missing (insert y’all’s Lady-In-Red name)/Addie. Has one ring she gave him because he expressed a modicum of interest in it, and that’s his most cherished possession. NEVER takes it off.

Dante tried grabbing it once, and Vergil actually hissed at him out of pure defensiveness.

[positively-mine]

You’re a girl?!

how the twst boys find out you’re a girl & their reactions

tags: afab, accidental touches

a/n: very much self indulgent BUT I COUNDNT STOP THINKING 🤔 what if because it was a boys school that they didn’t have skirts and basically Crowley just made you wear the uniform & you didn't tell anyone. Like epel and lilia’s case, they just thought you were a feminine guy (p.s I just started and I haven’t read any spoilers, except for some info from reddit so I’m very sorry if this has already been covered/ revealed) very gacha coded but PLSSSSS bear this brain rot with me

Some spoilers: until book 3

Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚

Ace

This can go two ways. Firstly, is that he was chasing deuce or Grimm around and you happen to be walking around the corner. And BAM. You’re both on the ground with him on top of you, caging you into his arms. With both his hands conveniently placed on two lumps on your chest. It takes him a good 3 seconds of staring and squeezing before he realises what they are. What you are. Immediately feels embarrassed and starts screaming and scarmbling to get up.

Orrr he has gotten so used to coming into ramshackle house as he pleases and barges into your room without knocking. You’re both guys, so what’s the problem? Big mistake. Because you’re changing and literally only in your under garments. He’s all red and hot faced before he’s running out of your room and the house into the walkway to calm himself down.

The next time he faces you, he’s apologising while avoiding eye contact. He knows you’ve been through thick and thin together but it really did feel as though his whole world view was shattered when he found out. When he’s hanging out with you, he’s much more careful of where he places his hand and tries to look out for you. Definitely tried to act more manly as well, like when there's an overblot about to happen he either pushes you behind him or blocks you with his body..

Deuce

The way i see this going down is that he’s got his gangster mode on from whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into (or for convenience sake; the broken eggs in book 1). And he’s trying to push you away to stop you from stopping HIM from picking a fight. And something soft hits his forearm. He turns to look at you chest before he quickly realises. He’s screaming like a banshee while moving as far away as he can from you. The initial quarrel was forgotten and now his head is spinning. Thoughts like “what would my mother think if she knew what i did??”, “HES A GIRL?! I MEAN SHE” and so on. The walk back to the kitchen is so quiet that you could basically hear Grimm’s grumbling all the way from Heartsbyul kitchen. Once you arrived back at the kitchen, the guys are wondering why its so quiet between you two but pay no mind to it.

He gets awkward around you every once in a while when realises how close the two of you are but still tries to make up for it. Also becomes more diligent in trying to withhold his gangster personality. He doesn’t want to show anymore of his nasty side to you when he can show you how well he can treat you. Lest he wants to lose you to some other guys…

Trey

This one's tough. I don't know if he has sisters so let's just say that he has. He's one of the first few to realize that you're a girl, being the ever observant person that he is. He sees the pattern when you start getting a little bit more emotional than you are. Snapping at Adeuce and Grimm when you're usually much more patient, getting upset at small things or when he catches you tearing up when you talk about returning to your own world. Yeah he definitely knows.

So it's no surprise when you start to receive more baked treats from him and he's piling up all sorts of nutritious food onto your plate when you sit together. The others are wondering why he's doing that when you're capable of doing it yourself. It's only after several months of this treatment that you realize he knows that you're a girl. And when you confront him about it, "I can't help but want to take care of you when I see you".

Riddle

I like to think that you’re having tea together. He’s invited you to another one of their dorm’s many reason to have tea. Grimm and Ace are fighting for the last cookie and accidentally knock into you as you pick up your teacup. Splashing the liquid all over your dress shirt. Riddle is of course, furious. Rule #363, never spill your tea. Especially on a Tuesday. He’s screaming at them both when his eyes move to check if you’re okay. And that’s when he sees some blue peeking out at the wet area of your shirt. It takes him a quick second to march over to you and drape his blazer over you. “You should go back and change. Make sure to take a warm bath unless you want to catch a cold.” You nod at him confusedly. He watches as you make your way down the steps. He turns to the rest of the members with pink tinted cheeks. “Unfortunately this tea party will have to be cancelled,” and he quickly turns back to walk to his dorm before anyone can say anything.

The next time you see him, his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s trying very hard to not make eye contact with you. Overall, most of your relationship stays the same except that he’s inviting you over for tea more often. But this time its just the two of you. And his excuse? It changes every time. Sometimes its because he says he wants to talk about Adeuce and Grimm’s behaviour, and sometimes it’s because he wants your thoughts on which tea set is better.

Cater

For his case, it's not that he found out, rather he overheard it from a rowdy pair of first years and a cat. He was walking to his next class and about to turn around the corner when he overheard their not so very hushed conversation. His eyes widen very similarly to the saucers that they use for tea. He's kind of upset that he didn't find out himself, but learned it through someone else. Oh well. It's a win-win situation for him anyways.

So when he starts being much more clingier to you and offering to walk you to your classes do you start to get suspicious. He’s always coming over to sit together at your table and visiting you at Ramshackle more. Lounging on the beaten up sofa while you do whatever work you have to. Keeping you company for as long as he can. Or at least until Riddle calls him back or you kick him out. Whichever comes first.

Now imagine there’s a celebration of some sort and he’s excitedly running up the steps to Ramshackle to formally invite you as his date. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he smiles cheekily. And from behind him he pulls out a beautiful dress. “Will you be my date?” No misunderstanding his gestures now.

reblogs appreciated!

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The first 48 hours are crucial when a person goes missing. Eren can only pray it’s enough to reach you..

— Content warnings: emetophobia, mention of assault.

— Notes: Helloooo!!! Welcome to TV Friday number 12 <3 I thought about posting earlier but I thought best to keep up our little tradition ^^ Please read the notes at the end for extra notes about TV’s future. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

Forty-eight hours

Hour One

A missed call shouldn't have been enough to raise an alarm, but his gut instantly told him something was wrong. And yet he tried his best to remain calm — stepped out onto the street and made his way to the bus stop where you should've been dropped off, glancing into convenience stores just in case, hopeful that the bus was just running a little late. But when the bus you would've taken showed up — allowing Eren some time to sigh in relief and shake his head at his own presumptions — and you were nowhere to be found among the few people to scatter onto the sidewalk, it only confirmed that previous gut feeling.

Hour Two

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

There's a stiffness to Eren's breathing that makes the process more painful than its intended effects — his lungs feel too big for his ribs, which seem to be pressing them against his heart, pushing his brain into hyperactivity to keep him from imploding.

Where does he even start? Where should he even go?

If there's a proper protocol to follow to find you, he's no idea of it and he's strangely aware that his anxiety might lead him in the wrong direction when there's so much he has to do — so many places he has to be — at once. It's infuriatingly difficult to not have a cool head when you really need it.  

He didn't think to bring his car — perhaps it's for the best, considering his vision continues to blur and it's not a sign of good condition to hear your own frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

His eyes anxiously scan the faces of every person in his path. Paired with his dazed footing and the sick expression on his face revived every couple of minutes from the nausea stemming from some sort of sensed doom that he continuously swats away, there hasn't been a shortage of odd looks and aversions since he ventured into the dark streets in hopes to find you fine and well out of thin air.

It's been too long to dismiss as a casualty since his calls stopped going through, and yet he insists on redialing your number each time he's met with the automated message that only further fuels his dreadful symptoms, hopeful that your voice will reach his ears again, for that comforting sound to put an end to the infernal crescendo of his insides. 

Just as he's about to redial once more, his phone starts buzzing first, and for a split second his body is at peace and his heart soothed in the spare moment that it takes for him to accept the call and bring the phone to his ear. 

“Have you heard from her yet?” 

The voice on the other end causes his stomach to plummet to his feet for what feels like the tenth time tonight.

It takes a moment for his brain to assimilate that it's not you on the other end and another for him to hate himself for not checking who was calling and stupidly spit a response to an Armin who has no fault in anything, especially for not being you.

Armin, as understanding as ever and assuming the more collected role for Eren's sake, dismisses the frustrated tone in his friend's voice, fully aware it's nothing personal. 

“The security guard says she left a little over an hour ago and Mika called me a minute ago and said she hasn't been home. Are you sure she wasn't going to make any stops on the way?” 

“No, Armin, she would've told me. She would've come here first or she would've at least texted me.” Eren's voice cracks. “Something is wrong.” 

The weakness in Eren's voice is enough to fracture Armin's composure for a fraction of a second.

“Let's go to Levi.”

Hour Three

Being in the police station feels more reassuring than Eren would've imagined. At least this means he's doing something — and something right, at that — and the drive over spared him enough time to ease his nerves, even just a little, as he continued to repeat inwardly to himself that everything is going to be fine. 

Time is everything and frankly, he can't help but feel a bit dumb for not thinking about getting some help from Levi in the first place. He'll find out what's going on — if there was an accident, if you got mugged and that's why no calls go through, or even if your bus broke down and that's why he hasn't seen you when he should have by now. Even if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, better to cause a scene than to sit on his hands. Though three hours without any sign to say otherwise can't be a misunderstanding. 

Eren hunches over, resting his forehead on the edge of Levi's desk, not minding one bit as it digs a dent into his skin. His knee bounces every couple of minutes as he and Armin wait for Levi to get back to them. 

“Eren Jaeger?” 

He looks up to find a tall blond man instead of Levi. 

“Yes?” 

“I'm Captain Erwin Smith. Come this way please.” 

Eren stands to follow the man's lead, only sparing a nervous glance to Armin, who replies with a comforting one from his seat, only morphing into a more accurate depiction of his worry once Eren turns his back to him.

“Where's Levi?” 

Eren's eyes wander the barren space he's been led into. Nothing but a table and a pair of chairs set opposite of each other. 

“He'll be here in a moment. I just want to ask you some more questions about the missing person's report you're filing.” 

“Of course.”

Doing his best to hold in his exasperation at the ticking clock in his head, he dutifully replies to every question he's already answered for Levi when he first walked into the station — what made him come to the station, his relation to you, your description, what happened before he lost contact with you, amongst other basic things to paint a picture of the situation.

“Was there ever any trouble in your relationship?” Erwin asks.

Eren's brow furrows.

“What do you mean?” 

“I'm asking if there was any indication that your girlfriend,” he makes a vague motion with his hands as he reads your name from the folder in his hands, “might’ve been upset with the relationship. Did you ever argue or have any trouble? Perhaps something in the past few days? Or ever?” 

Eren hardens his jaw in an attempt to remain calm. He knew he'd have to spend a while at the station, answering questions more than once — as frustrating as the lengthy process could be, he expected that much. 

Erwin's tone has remained neutral for the entirety of the questioning, and it's only natural to want to rule out any immediate suspects, but it doesn't make the implication of the captain's words any less offensive and borderline cruel. 

“No,” Eren chokes out, horrified by the mere idea that either of you would walk away without warning. That isn't you. 

“So no reason for her to break off contact with you.”

“She didn't break off contact,” Eren spits, growing heavily frustrated at the sudden turn of events. “We were supposed to meet, she was on her way already. I saw her just this morning and she called me first to tell me she was coming home.”

“Maybe she only said that to throw you off?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just tell me what you might think,” Erwin replies, voice stern. “You say it's only been three hours since you last heard from her but she's a mentally stable, healthy adult. Unless she has any conditions that could put herself or others in danger, chances are she's safe and sound somewhere and this is all a misunderstanding. Was there anything suspicious or weird about her?”

Eren's shake of his head grows more and more frustrated as Erwin does little to conceal his skepticism, which only shapes as a misunderstanding from Eren's increasingly impatient point of view.

“What's suspicious and weird is that she never made it to our date at all and it's been three hours and I haven't gotten a single word from her.”

Eren's expression is one of pleading, yet Erwin's remains neutral and made of marble.

“And it's not like that,” Eren murmurs. “I was going to ask her to live with me tonight. She called me after she left work to tell me she was on her way.” Eren can feel his heartbeat start to pick up as his ribcage begins to close in on his lungs once more as more anxious words continue to spill from his mouth in increasing pace and volume. “She told me she had news and that she loves me. Why would she tell me that if anything was wrong? Why would she say that if she wasn't going to make it to our date?” The crack in his voice comes at the same time as the stinging sensation behind his eyes and the uncomfortable tickle in his nose. “I was making dinner for us. I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise her with all her favorite food and the pictures from the new apartment. I wasn't going to tell her about the pink bathtub because I want it to be a surprise when we move in. She…” He curls against the table, hands gripping his hair in frustration, pulling at the strands to make sure he still feels something because there are just too many sensations overwhelming him as he tries to get through to the man in front of him. “She really wants a pink bathtub.” 

Eren doesn't lift his gaze, just remains quiet and unmoving until he catches a flicker of movement in front of him. It's only when he takes the tissue offered by Erwin that he becomes aware of the tears streaming down his face. 

Levi nearly had a heart attack when he first caught eye of Eren's and Armin's familiar faces walking into the police station. The frantic green eyes and anxious expressions made it clear something awful had happened and hot flashes of searing dread burned inside his stomach. That is until nobody pronounced his niece's name. After that, the flame of pain withered to ashes of guilt, consuming him from the inside in such a manner that it was hard to face his niece's friends knowing he'd felt relief it wasn't his family who'd been affected tonight. 

Levi's known Eren since he was a kid — a bit childish and whiny, but ultimately a decent man with a kind heart. It's been a pleasure watching him grow up and knowing he's remained a good friend to his niece. 

Levi's only met you once. It was at Jean and Mikasa's engagement party earlier this year. If Jean and Mikasa were the happiest couple there, you and Eren were a close second. It was easy to know just how much he adored you, and how attached you were to him. Eren was rarely in a dark place, but next to you his smile was blinding. 

After finding out Erwin conducted the interrogation to rule out a possible runaway case — and how he did it — he still hadn't ridden himself of enough guilt to apologize for making the situation more stressful, no matter what the rules say. 

It's no secret some sudden disappearances hold more danger than others. An abducted child, an older person with dementia, a mentally and emotionally unstable person who's looking to cause harm to others or themselves — they demand a higher sense of urgency than logging the missing person into the system and following up when there's nothing more pressing on the police's plate.

The desperation consuming Eren's features when Levi finally walks into the interrogation room is enough to kick off his own instincts. 

It's upon Levi's insistence that patrols are dispatched immediately. 

Hour Five

When a loved one's safety is on the line, any efforts from authorities never seem to be enough and yet one remains oddly hopeful that the people with a proper protocol should know how to better handle situations that leave one frantic and lost. 

Calls to the nearest hospitals, pings from cellphone towers, two patrols dispatched to the last known location and its surroundings, questions to potential witnesses who have nothing to report or are rather too invested to go back to whatever keeps their attention inside to provide some detailed tips, one patrol leaving because of a nearby break-in and the remaining one left with nothing more to go off of than one grainy clip of CCTV footage that shows your figure walking down the street, and a second clip from a convenience store's outside surveillance camera where you don't show up at all, but the lack of witnesses lead to nothing in between. 

Keeping up the search when there's been nothing gained starts proving to be more difficult when obstacles continue to pile on. Aside from the growing boredom of those in police cars from the lack of fresh information to keep them motivated, the heavy clouds that hover over everyone's head threatens for the case to soon be abandoned for the night. 

Hour Eight

Levi is hesitant to leave. But with no leads — no CCTV footage, no unknown numbers blinking on Eren's screen, no mother, an estranged father, no sign of a struggle at the last known location, and so much yet so little more — there isn't much he has to do than drive back with the pair of worried men to the station for more questioning in case of foul play, while constantly eyeing his notifications for any incoming messages on an assault victim found in an alley not too far away from where your phone was last still on.

Eren refuses to leave. Despite Levi's efforts to persuade him that going back to the station was necessary, knowing he was so close to where you'd last been was enough for Eren to stand his ground. Getting into Levi's car means going back miles worth of steps. It means straying from what feels so much like the right path already. And as ridiculous and futile as it is with no leads, it means losing his grip on something much more solid. 

How easy it would be if a last known location means he can find you just by looking behind a tree or having someone point and say “yes, she's right there”. 

So when Levi makes another plea for Eren to come back with him — he doesn't mention what for to not stir any more nerves — and Eren says no while steering himself down the block for what feels like his hundredth recon of the area — just in case you really were behind that tree in the small playground all along, playing a nasty prank on him — Levi chooses to go back to all the nearby twenty-four hour convenience stores one last time before the downpour begins. 

Armin gives Levi a grateful nod before lightly jogging to catch up with Eren, who's already turning onto the next street. 

“You can go,” Eren calls over his shoulder after catching a glimpse of his friend's blond hair beside him. “I'll keep looking by myself. Besides, it's gonna rain soon. You'll get wet.” 

“What about you?” Armin looks down at his friend's bare arms. “You don't even have a jacket.” 

Eren looks down at his sides, like he just noticed his lack of a coat. He could've sworn he had one on him when he walked out his apartment. You would've been upset with him otherwise, that small pout forming on your lips while your brows are weighed down with disappointment. 

The instant of amusement he feels is quickly consumed by the ache of why he's out on the street with no jacket to begin with. 

The food must be cold by now. He'll have to heat it all up once you're back home.

Light raindrops brush against his skin with a small gust of wind. 

You're still not behind the tree.

It's nearly half past two in the morning. Any civilians with useful information have been asleep for hours, and any passers-by would've reported anything had they seen it, Armin thinks. 

It's chilling to walk down streets so quiet and empty, with the only reminder that this isn't an alternate universe being the sparse cars that drive by. Surely the people inside might find it strange to see the pair walking up and down the streets, turning, looking, flashing their phones to make out shapes in the dark.

The tickle of rain on skin is no longer, but the temperature continues to drop. 

Armin takes on one side of the street while Eren tackles the other. He receives a polite nod from the security guard of a small daycare center, who fails to conceal his look of pity. Levi interviewed him around an hour ago, so he has to know what's going on. 

Armin averts his gaze, his cheeks burning at the thought of some stranger pitying him and his friend when everything is going to be just fine. 

The rain starts up again. Eren isn't around anymore. With one quick scan of the street, Armin spots him rounding the corner to the next street — pace firm but anxious. He's quick to follow. 

By the time Armin catches up, the raindrops have grown in size, a reliable sign that this time, it's for real. 

“Eren,” Armin calls him carefully.

Eren continues walking, flashing a light behind a dumpster in a narrow alley between a family restaurant and a bookstore. 

“Eren,” Armin calls him a bit more firmly to get his attention, but to no avail. 

With brows knit more in desperation than concern, Armin quickens his pace and pulls Eren by the shoulder just before he rounds the corner to the next street. 

“Eren!”

“What?” 

The anger and volume in Eren's voice shrinks Armin in his place for a brief moment. 

Embarrassed by his own reaction, Eren exhales an apology. But his face hardens once more when Armin suggests it's time to go home.

Armin steps back, surprised to have caught a swear word from his best friend among the words he spits back in a negative response. 

But when Eren turns, ready to resume his search, Armin pulls at him again.

“Eren, stop!” he half-yells, quickly readjusting his volume before speaking again to not cause any disturbances to sleeping strangers.

“You don't want to pick a fight with me Armin, I'm warning you,” Eren's voice grows low, but still reaches Armin with the same anger and menace.  

Eren harshly pulls away and continues to storm down the next street, leaving Armin to stumble behind. 

The rain is heavy enough now to spot the pavement faster than it takes for each drop to dry. 

“We need to go back, we aren't going to find her like this,” Armin calls after him. His hands do little to shield himself from the rain. Thankfully, Armin thought to bring a jacket along but it won't do much for either of them when it's bound to be sopping wet in just a few minutes. 

Eren's shirt is already clinging to his skin in large patches down his back, and yet he continues walking with purpose down the street. 

Armin's shivering now under his jacket as he looks around to gather his surroundings. This street isn't far from the office. It's poorly lit which, paired with the rain, is best explored in daylight. There's a single street lamp that's meant to illuminate the area at night, but it's been broken for months and either nobody has reported it, or laziness has kept it from being repaired. 

“Come on,” Armin insists, lightly jogging now and losing his breath under the cold shower as he tries to keep up with Eren, who still refuses to listen. “We'll come back in the morning! You need to get some rest if you're going to keep looking! I'll come with you, okay? But we need to go!”

Armin suddenly crashes into Eren's chest as the latter abruptly turns around in a sudden fit of pure rage. 

“I already told you I'm not fucking leaving!” 

Armin stumbles back, teeth chattering, muscles drooping from his wet clothes and vision blurred by the heavy rain. 

“You can leave if you want to! That's what the fucking police is doing! Just go already! But I'm staying because I care! I don't give a fuck about the rain, I'm going to find her!”

Eren's words pierce through Armin's chest, and the next moment he's tackling Eren to the ground. It's not so much to stop him from leaving this time, but out of indignation. 

Eren falls on his ass with a wet thud, his palms painfully pounding onto the pavement as Armin falls on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in his hands.

“You think I don't care? Why do you think I'm here, you idiot?” Armin yells in Eren's face. Had the pouring rain not been a factor, he would've been red in the face. But had the rain not been there, Eren also would've easily seen the tears streaming down Armin's face, and that would've taken away from his blue glare. 

“She's my best friend! I'm just as worried about her as you are! You can't decide you're the only one affected by this! That only makes you a jerk and you're not!” 

Eren is tense all over as he holds Armin's surprisingly threatening glare. His chest heaves as a twinge of guilt surges inside of him at his friend's pointed remarks. The stiff breathing makes its return.

“But we have to go,” Armin's voice softens — it cracks and begs. 

And Eren breaks down in sobs. His scraped palms come to his face, aggressively digging the heels against his eyes as if to force his tears back in while his shoulders tremble in cold, grief and guilt. 

“You don't understand!” he cries, his shirt still crumpled under Armin's grip. “I fucked up, Armin. This is all my fault!”

Unsure of how to react to this abrupt change in attitude, Armin remains frozen save for his teeth, which continue to chatter under the deafening rain.

“I was supposed to pick her up. I'm never late,” Eren hiccups. “But I didn't come today and now I don't know where she is! It was me, Armin! I did this! This is my fault!” 

“Eren,” Armin murmurs gently, eyebrows upturned in sympathy as he finally softens his hold on his friend. 

“I can't find her and I don't know if she's hurt or scared or if…,” Eren's words drown in another wave of sore sobs, his lips refusing to let the thought of the worst to escape as a spoken word — to think that someone might have caused you harm and that's what's kept you tonight. 

“I need her to be okay,” he whimpers finally, lips trembling as his body begins to react to the harsh cold surrounding him. “Where is she, Armin?”

It takes a while for Armin to gather his thoughts and catch up to the workings of Eren's mind from this hellish night. 

He often leaves the office with you, stays behind some evenings when he notices you're close to wrapping up your work and can ride the elevator together. Sometimes even accepts Eren's offer for a ride when he's too tired to deal with the overwhelming setting of public transportation — tired enough to not mind third-wheeling for a short while. If the last place your phone was turned on was before you even had a chance to take a bus, surely he could've done something to prevent this mess too. Why didn't he think to stay behind today, too?

“It's not your fault,” Armin finally says, his voice just barely audible amidst the rain and thunder. He blinks up from the ground to his friend. “And we don't know what happened. We'll try the hospitals again later, we'll keep calling her in the meantime. We have Levi helping us, right?”

Eren blinks back at him, slowly gathering that Armin is trying to encourage him through reassurances, and finally nods in response as he does his best to ignore the tight lump in his throat. 

“It's like three in the morning, Eren. I'm not asking you to stop. But we can't keep going like this.” He motions vaguely toward the incessant rain from above and the wet clothes sticking to their skin. 

Armin stands, relieving Eren from his weight as he pushes back his hair with one hand and offers the other to his friend whose reluctance casts a shadow over his usually bright features. 

Eren trains his gaze on the ground, leaving Armin's helping hand hanging for the while longer it takes for him to convince himself that Armin is right and this doesn't mean he's failing you. 

Finally, Eren accepts his friend's hand, who hoists him up just as they both spot Levi's car pulling into the street from the farthest corner. 

Armin motions for Eren to follow him toward the car, to which he responds with a weak nod. But just a couple of steps in, something crunches and gets caught under his shoe. Naturally, he looks down, forgetting the deluge falling over him at the moment to frown at the foreign object. 

Armin glances over his shoulder, sensing his absence, and turns around fully when he realizes Eren is kneeling on the ground, cautiously picking something from the ground that ultimately dangles from his fingers once it's fully suspended in the air. 

Armin retraces his steps, kneeling next to his friend to find his face pallid, and green eyes wide with fear as he stares at the broken chain between his fingers, from which hangs an angel cast in silver with a broken wing. 

His features contort in horrified realization. It's almost ridiculous to turn to Eren for confirmation of what he already knows and can already begin to imagine. But when he does, the latter is already hunched over in the opposite direction, emptying his stomach onto the wet pavement while the nearing lights from Levi's car come to blind him.

Hour Fifteen

Mikasa, Jean, and Sasha step into the elevator wordlessly, the only sounds on the way to Eren's floor being the inevitable rustles from the plastic bags with food in Mikasa's hands. 

Jean offered to take them, but Mikasa insisted she'd hold onto them. Maybe it's because of her cold hands, but it might also be because she needs something to help keep her grounded — literally; she feels as though she might float away otherwise. Because if anyone were to ask her, nothing has felt real since last night after Armin's call. 

The elevator’s hum ceases as it comes to a gentle stop and the doors slide open. 

The same somber silence continues to hover between the trio as they mechanically walk down the hall to Eren's door. Jean takes out his copy of the key from his jeans pocket and pushes the door wide open, gesturing for the girls to enter first before quietly closing the door behind them.

Spare keys aren't rare between them. It was chain reaction that stemmed from Eren's father's passing. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay. The rest is history. 

“In case of emergency.”

“Can you please water my plants while I'm gone?” 

“Can you check something for me?”

“I'm really sick, just let yourself in.”

“Just keep it.”

Jean's copy has rarely been used. In fact, not many of them have made use of Eren's key once he started dating. Not that it's been a dramatic change, but now there's not much need to be wary of barging in on something they'll all laugh about later. And today, after Eren passed out on the street in the rain, it seems crucial to brush the dust off an old habit for their friend's sake.

The trio is careful not to make any excess noise — Eren might still be sleeping —, but the further they venture into the apartment, they realize their efforts are in vain. 

They expected Eren to be lying on the sofa where Jean and Armin had so carefully helped him settle down, still fast asleep considering it's only been a few hours since. Although Eren's sudden nausea was a mere reaction to finding the necklace, Armin still spent a couple more hours watching over him as a precaution while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area, and quietly left for his apartment to make another round of calls before work. 

They're met with the view of their friend bustling around his work area in a corner of the living room, his brow furrowed and eyes laser focused as he refills the ink tanks on his printer. Stacks of missing person's posters cover his desk with a handful of faded ones having been scattered and crumpled on the floor as evidence of the ink shortage he's tending to. Your face occupies nearly the entirety of his immediate view, which is why a single glance is enough to distract him from his task that he doesn't notice his friends present in his apartment, nor when the ink begins to leak.

At the instinctive curse word that leaves him in a frustrated huff, Jean rushes over to help him. 

“I'll handle this,” he assures Eren, who only blinks in surprise as he realizes he's not alone. 

Mikasa and Sasha walk over to him unsure of whether a hug is appropriate as a greeting. In the end, they choose to speak the words instead. 

Sasha leaves the conversation in exchange for helping Jean clean up the spilled ink. An irregular blob-shaped stain is left behind on the ash gray wood. 

“Are you– How's your stomach?” Mikasa asks. 

An uneasy grimace makes its way onto Eren's face.

“It's fine. It was just… Yeah.” He shrugs it off, unsure of how to properly explain the incident without triggering more discomfort. 

Mikasa nods in understanding. 

“Armin said you're going back to the police station later.”

Eren huffs at a humorless puff of air from his nose. 

“Yeah. More questioning,” Eren replies, his head continuously shaking in disbelief, to which Mikasa frowns.

“What's wrong?” 

It takes Eren a couple of tries to let the words out, his mouth opening and closing with hesitancy. 

“They all left, Mika,” he softly murmurs, a hint of helplessness infecting his fragile voice, that births an ache in Mikasa's chest. “Nobody could say anything and they got bored. What kind of excuse is that?” 

Mikasa drops her gaze to her shoes, submitting before the hurt and impotence Eren's words awake in her. 

Then she shakes her head briefly, recalling a good thing. 

“Levi's on the case… and there's evidence for foul play now, there's a lead,” she says, trying her hardest to appear more hopeful at each thing on her list. “He'll find her, Eren. This'll just be nothing but a bad memory soon.” 

She smiles, but it comes out sad from the red that tints her waterline. 

Eren doesn't have the energy to try to appear cheerful from her encouragement, and limits himself to a nod. 

“Eren, how long have you been up?” Sasha asks with concern from his desk, where her eyes scan over his computer screen and the stacks of paper with your face printed front and center. 

“A few hours?” Eren replies with a shrug, to which everyone else exchanges concerned glances.

Jean breaks the silence with a loud clap, refusing to make way for any awkwardness in the air. 

“We brought you some food, buddy. Come on, let's eat.” 

Sasha eagerly nods, her enthusiasm a bit too stiff it almost seems rehearsed, as she encourages him to follow them to the dining table.

Eren allows himself to be tugged along for a couple of steps before he tethers himself to his spot for a moment and then decidedly takes a step back under everyone's puzzled expressions. 

“I'm not really hungry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa gently asks.

“We got your favorite soup,” Jean smiles, though Eren is too busy staring at a blank point to notice. “Minestrone.”

“Extra parmesan,” Sasha adds.

“It's fine.” Eren assures them with a forced smile. “You guys eat. I have a lot of things to do.” 

“Well, you can't do them on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we'll go through your to-do list together,” Jean insists.

“Yeah,” Mikasa agrees, shooting a grateful smile to her fiancé. “Jean can drive you to the station after breakfast and Sasha and I can handle the rest.”

Every offer is sensible and comforting, but Eren still refuses. He can't eat, not when you still haven't come home. 

“No…” his voice trembles ever so slightly as his eyes wander around the room, as if looking for an excuse. He ultimately makes his way back to his desk, where the stacks of posters await him. “I'll just head out now. I'm gonna hand some of these out before going to the station.”

The rejected trio exchange another round of anxious, meaningful looks. Mikasa's the first to break away from the group to join Eren in gathering a stack of flyers and a roll of tape from the black metal organizer on his desk.

As her hands roam around the surface of the ash gray wood, the jewel on her finger catches the sunlight peeking through the curtains. 

Eren's movements grow slow as his focus is stolen by the silver engagement ring. 

Mikasa notices the pause in his movements from the corner of her eye, and looks up at him to assess his status. Eren tears his gaze from her ring — embarrassed —, but not fast enough for it to go unnoticed, nor does he remember to ease his hardened jaw afterwards. He moves in silence and sets a fast pace toward the door, leaving an anguished Mikasa to trail at his heel. 

Hour Twenty

It takes a handful of hours for Eren to get back home from the station, with a significant reduction to the baggage he left with. The stream of questions would've been fairly simple had he not been charged with so many uneasy feelings as to why he was doing all of it in the first place. It certainly didn't help that he had to face the same people who had simply left this morning. But he has to do things right — even if it means swallowing his anger to contribute with any useful information.

Social media presence, daily routines, bus routes, habits, friends, family situation.

Saying you know someone like the back of your hand is an odd saying, he thinks. He's not that vain to spend lengthy periods of time observing himself. In his case, it suffices to say he simply knows you — all he's done is look at you. 

He knows your hands quite well. The shape of your fingers, the curves of your knuckles and the warmth of your palms when they latch onto his heartbeat and manipulate it to your will. And now what's been left since last night is a painful cavity. It's all wrong. Your hand should be here, filling his void. 

The apartment is empty, Jean and Sasha long gone. The plastic bags have been folded into neat triangles and the counter has been cleared. Upon opening the fridge, Eren finds stacks of containers that have been added to those Armin helped put away the previous night from the uncelebrated dinner. 

He stares at his packed fridge for a long time, any energy to step away vanishing into thin air and leaving him stuck in place, looking straight ahead until he no longer recognizes the shape of anything inside, and he grows numb at the cold air that slowly envelops him. 

A ring from his pocket is what finally pulls him out of his daze and he's quick to whip the device out and accept the incoming call with pure urgency and no thought. 

“I'm only assuming you've been too excited to call me to tell me how it went last night,” Carla's playfully accusing tone comes through the speaker. 

“Mom,” Eren pronounces in a voice so soft, yet empty as he only acknowledges it's her, but any word that bounces off his tongue is devoid of meaning until he can speak the name he wants to.

“So,” Carla's enthusiastic grin is evident through the phone. “Was she thrilled? What did she say?”

Eren's voice fails him. 

In all the anxiety and chaos, with all the things he's had to do within the last twenty hours, he completely forgot to tell his mother what had happened and that moment is catching up to him now. 

His lips roll inwards, a habit reserved for when he's feeling shy because of things you say or do, and now has come back because of his lack of words — or rather the will to expel them.

His hand comes up to his hair, his fingers brushing his hair back as he struggles to find his voice. 

It's only when Eren takes a second too long to reply that a shift in mood can be sensed from Carla's end of the line.

“Eren,” she calls him carefully, which only makes the lump in his throat grow. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Mom,” is all Eren can muster, voice cracking as he pushes the word out.

“Did you have a fight? Is everything okay?” Carla's concern amplifies through the speaker, as something rustles in the background, a sign that she's taken on a more alert position.

“You didn't break up, did you?” 

Out of all the things that could've gone wrong last night, Eren wishes that had been it. At least he wouldn't be as helpless. At least he'd know where you are. At least it's something he could reverse.

“No.” 

The word comes out choked, his throat instantly sore for the second time. 

His monosyllabic replies must be getting to her, because Carla takes a deep breath before trying again. 

“Eren, honey. You have to speak clearly, okay?” Carla's voice grows gentle, as it always has whenever Eren would have trouble speaking his mind. Granted, that's been lost as he got older, but Carla's sweet attention hasn't. “What happened?”

Her patient voice finally manages to coax the lodged words from Eren's throat. 

“I don't know where she is. She's missing.” 

Hour Twenty-four 

Rain is bad for detective work. Eren heard about it in a documentary or a podcast, or maybe he read it somewhere — he can't remember. But it supposedly washes away any evidence, making easy cases tricky and difficult cases nearly impossible. Considering the silver angel necklace was found in the midst of the sky falling, it comes as no surprise when he comes home from a casual meet up with Levi at a nearby coffee shop with the news that no DNA or signs of a struggle were found on site after a thorough search in the light of day. The other half of the broken angel wing was found stuck on the edge of a sewer grate, though. Eren would feel any comfort at all if it meant it would lead to something. But at least the necklace can be fixed for when he finds you and this is all over.

The necklace is pretty much a dead end, but it'll remain under the police's hold just in case. 

Eren has never gone so long without seeing your face. Now that the clock has found its way back to the hour you were supposed to walk through his door, it's unbearable to know that you won't. And still he looks over in its direction every few minutes, expecting you to burst in and throw yourself into his embrace, marking the end to a day-long fever dream. 

That's probably it. A dream. No, a nightmare. It's nothing but a wicked play of his subconscious — to teach him a lesson on appreciating you more. Maybe to scare him into doing a better job of protecting you. Maybe he's gotten too lax, too careless. After all, the city hasn't been terrorized by any violent crimes in the last few months. But that's no excuse to dismiss the possibility of danger. Right… There was a killer last year. Two murders. No suspects. No arrests. And there was a burglary just last night. So what if…

No.

Eren pulls at his hair, agitated by where his mind is leading him. He pulls hard on the strands, like they're the reins of his thoughts that he needs to redirect onto a less horrifying path. 

His phone dings as if on cue with a text message.

I'll be there soon, honey. Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

A tap on the attached file opens up a copy of a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow under the name Carla Jaeger.

His heart feels a tad lighter. 

It'll help to have his mother around for a few days. He types his gratitude into his phone and presses send. 

He lets his face fall into his hands as he hunches over his desk.

Everything will be okay, he repeats to himself in his head like a mantra. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Everything will be okay.

Outside, rain starts to fall. 

Hour Thirty

The rain has been on and off for hours. 

By the time Eren reconnected with his surroundings, ready to go out and look for clues on his own around the area, the rain was nearly as heavy as it was at three in the morning. 

He sits by the living room window, watching the downpour. His phone is charging on a wooden stool next to him, taking a break from another round of calls to nearby hospitals to ask for any patients bearing your name. Still no. 

His stomach has been growling for a while, but any energy he possesses isn't the kind that'll get him off his chair and into the kitchen — it's the kind that's meant to be used to stare out the window and grow numb over any trivial needs.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll pass. 

Hour Thirty-seven

All five of his friends come through the door a little past seven in the morning, with bags of fresh meals to share. 

Eren sits down this time, allowing Mikasa to fix him a plate and Connie to pour him a glass of juice. 

Nobody mentions the dark circles under his eyes, and Eren's gaze is too lost on a blank point to sense the meaningful glances exchanged all around him. 

There's not much room for conversation. Any sense of normalcy is lost in the thick air. It seems equally wrong to create a lighthearted break for the length of a meal as it is to talk about the empty seat across from Eren when everyone is trying so hard to make sure he's at the very least feeding himself. 

Eren merely pokes and stirs at his food with his fork the entire time. There's a fresh stack of flyers on his desk that demand more urgency in his eyes than sitting down to eat. 

His demeanor is easy to read by everyone at the table, yet another round of concerned glances and subtle nods in his direction being tossed around with silent messages. 

In the end, nobody says a thing and the groups is broken off in pairs to tackle the surrounding neighborhoods.

Hour Forty-five 

Nobody has called. Not him or the station. As the only person outside of the police to be contacted for any updates, his phone should've rung at least once. But aside from yesterday's encounter with Levi and his visits to the station to see if his presence alone will bring something up, there's been a drought in leads. And despite his determination in making sure every person he passes knows anything, there's still nothing. 

It's been hours since his stomach has demanded his attention. It's finally reached the point where it's so empty, it's gone numb. His body is running on nothing more than sheer will and water. 

He should at least try to eat, test if he can hold any food down. 

The fridge remains packed with food, even more now thanks to what's been gathered from his morning visits. 

Ever so slowly, with overly cautious movements, he takes out a container, transports it to the counter and peels off the lid. It's from the dinner you were supposed to share two nights ago. 

His lips tremble, eyebrows upturning for the split second it takes him to grasp back at his composure. An outsider would think he's glaring at his leftovers, disgusted at whatever is inside, completely misunderstanding the mental ordeal he's traversing as he takes several deep breaths.

He pulls out a stool from the breakfast bar, sits down and stares.

Hour Forty-eight 

It's been two whole days since Eren has stepped foot in his own bedroom. 

His feet drag him toward the bed without stopping to flip the light switch. Though the night is cloudy, signaling another shower for tonight, the moonlight still finds its way into the room just enough for his eyes to take in the most basic shapes of his furniture.

He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, and his gaze zeroes in on the neatly folded white cotton fabric set on the corner. It's the shirt you slept in two nights ago, the one that's the wrong size because it's his and he likes his clothes to be just a bit baggy. 

It's the shirt he gently tugged off your body to feel your skin pressed against his. The one that you take care in folding even if you're in a rush and even though he'll throw it in the wash anyway.

His fingers slowly reach out to collect the fabric.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

It still smells like you. Just barely — a mere scrap of notes that have faded over the last two days. A mix of vanilla, citrus and a faint trace of eucalyptus fabric softener. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Breathe, Eren.

It doesn't work. The air is too thick. It gets caught in his throat and forces a choked sob on its way back out. 

His face contorts in anguish as he falls onto the bed, curled up in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible, with your shirt clutched in his hands as the world outside darkens and he simply weeps.

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Notes: Tunnel Vision will continue, just not with the same schedule it had before my hiatus. I’ll be adding word count and progress updates in the chapter guide in case you want to keep up with the story in that way (It’ll also give you an estimate of when the next chapter will be posted. I have ideas for some ficlets, which I’ll do my best to post in between TV updates just so I don’t leave you all hanging with Eren content. It’ll depend a lot on whether I see any enthusiasm for it or not though (aka comments and reblogs that aren’t… well… empty). In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box to chat :)

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[riverofjazzsims]

Winter Holiday 20 years old 4'11 Orientation: Heterosexual-ish Occupation: Creator of smiles Location: Where the snow first falls

Winter Holiday is an unique individual who over the last few months has started to show, shall we say some interesting characteristics. For the moment though she is mostly human. She knows that she will have an interesting road a head of her and as her parents have made her aware, a partner during this journey will be essential. Mainly because no-one knows what to expect. Her parents defied the rules and loved each other and if that wasn't bad enough did what was thought impossible, create new life. See Winter has some magical lineage, her fathers, yes fathers, are a touch legendary and her mother seemingly just human was found to be a bit more than anyone could guess.

But we are not here today to talk about them. Winter is very much a mystery and as such, details about her will become known as we progress.

Here are some fun Winter facts: ❄️she absolutely LOVES the cold and snow ❄️oddly almost anywhere Winter goes there's either a drop in temp / starts to snow ❄️The birthmarks on her cheeks slowly appeared over the years and are cool to the touch ❄️She loves the color blue ❄️Dancing is her religion

More info will be forthcoming as we lead up to the submission deadline

Contestant Entry Rules:

❄️YA males only, any ethnicity or size welcome ❄️No Occults - caveat- winner will become immortal/long lifespan as Winter will be walking this rock of a planet for a very long time. ❄️Bio/brief backstory ❄️1 negative trait/ no custom traits ❄️No in game jobs assigned please ( totally fine for them to have one listed in their bio) ❄️3 skills of your choosing, max level 5 ❄️Likes/Dislikes please - 10 max ❄️Turn-on/off optional ❄️light /med CC or Vanilla is OK ❄️NO ALPHA hair ❄️No body presets ❄️Attire: 2 everyday/ 1 cold weather. If you don't have seasons please add your sims cold weather outfit as their 3rd everyday and I will change it over to the appropriate slot in CAS. All other you can leave in underwear and I will supply outfit if/when needed. Please keep in mind we will be almost always in cold weather when outside.

Side note: I use default skin (Bare by Lamatisse) and eyes (jack eyes remastered - but i had to "fix" them to work after some patch so your simmies will be using those in game Sliders are ok as I have the most popular ones. Note I will not add any new ones in my game so small tweaks may be made to compensate

❄️ I own ALL packs ❄️

Quick Questions for the potential hopefuls What is your favorite color Tell us what makes you naughty and what makes you nice ( yes answer both) Sims height

Submissions deadline: CLOSED. If I end up with more than 7 candidates , 7 will be chosen from the submissions. More to come if this ends up being the case

⏱️countdown

Remember to tag me or use #HTDF or #KillerBC So I can see your entry and reblog

Friendly reminder this is an 18+ blog, there will be mature themes involved. So the watcher needs to be at least 18 to enter 🫡 Not everyone will make it out alive.👀☠️ Some may even disappear. There will be chaos and drama and what ever else these damn sims throw my way.

Gameplay: There will be various gameplay mods being used throughout this BC including and not limited to Wicked Whims, and several Sacrificial Mods including extreme violence There will be some storytelling component to this, As with most BC there will be some challenges, group activities/dates and solo opportunities. Interactions will predominately be autonomous and I will use that to help build the story and game play. Some scenes/interactions may be replayed out using poses/animations Winter is looking for love but keep in mind there is a story playing out along side this and its a little on the dark side and yes not everyone will make it out alive. The only ones immune to the Grimms kiss will be Winter and her parents.

[outislovesgoobers]

hiiiii...

I'm Outis <3 21 + Queer + he/she/it as a baseline, but tbh feel free to use any pronouns or neos, just have fun with it. This is a self-ship side blog, I follow from @outismm :D Info under the cut

Brief overview for anybody stopping in, or folks who already know me wondering what this is :

"Didn't you do self-shipping on your main?" YES! However for some reason my main (and only my main) has an inbox that consumes asks. It will notify me, but simply will not show them for weeks/months! Also the tagging is MEGA bugged, and I can't find old art - so I thought I'd just start fresh!

All NSFW and adjacent posts will be tagged with .weenposting and .suggestive respectively. I don't mind minors reblogging my SFW stuff, but please don't follow, it wigs me out!

I'm sharing with all my F/Os, and in fact love hearing from other ppl who love the same goobers as me!

If you're non-sharing and we've got one in common - feel free to block me, or tags I use for the characters! I might also pre-emptively block you just in case, just bc I have terrible memory and am very likely to forget, and don't wanna make anyone uncomfortable. No hard feelings either way!

If we're moots and you wanna talk more, feel free to ask for my discord! It's way easier to reach me there, and I despise tumblr's messaging system, for some reason it always breaks for me lol

DNI posters of pedophilia + incest. Also, I have no patience for bigots, I blast you into hell. Basic stuff.

-- AUGHE F/O STUFF --

If you wanna know who I'm into, feel free to check out my [F/O Spreadsheet] with tags, playlists, anniversaries, etc! Gonna be updated in the future, as this blog develops a bit.

I label them with a 'focus' 1-5 so y'all know who I'm obsessing over the most at any given time - but feel free to send asks about any of them!

I also have a [Crush Spreadsheet], for characters I'm considering, but not actively shipping with. Feel free to send in propaganda/rambles about them too!

I think that's it :3 come play dolls w/ me!!!

[lilolilyr]

Lilo Reads - April 2025 edition

I have read 2.8 million words in fanfic in April!

January • February • March • 2024

I've also read three of the most atrocious kids books this month, and I mean I usually don't enjoy hatewatching or hatereading stuff but in this case I had a blast. Do you know Enid Blyton's Mallory Towers (German 'Dolly')? These are as if a whole series is straight up from Evelyn's POV. She's nasty to everyone, tries to ruin her parents' marriage but is mad when she succeeds, has self esteem issues and tries to bring everyone down so she doesn't have to worry they're above her anymore, cares more about her appearance than anything else, is so bitchy even to the girls she considers her friends, and instead of getting over her issues and properly settling in at the boarding school she just seems to get a bit better but then starts acting idiotically again in the next book! Would hate to meet her irl, loved the books, 10/10, I read them within a week xD

Apart from those, I just continued the non-fiction book 'The Bird Way' and re-read some Yoko Tsuno comics from the library, I still love those comics so much, especially the collection editions with bonus info and sketches! They're originally French and not all of them have been translated into English, but a whole bunch of them can be found here :)

And I actually wrote something this month! An almost 20k long Sci-Fi Adventure story, Lucifer's Servant, vaguely based on the Yoko Tsuno comic of the same name but with characters from Warehouse 13, I think everyone's introduced neatly enough that anyone can read it, without knowing either of those fandoms! I'm really proud of it I wouldn't have expected writing such a long story after months of just tiny comment fics :}

Maybe I'll write some more fic again next month - feel free to send me May Trope Mayhem prompts!

As for fics I enjoyed reading, this might be the first month where the majority of the fics are gen fics? While I did indeed read a couple of the expected Avorah fics (mainly by @bkwormkate thank you for the good work <3) because the new season of Hacks is out, I only managed to watch the first two episodes so far, so most fics are too spoilery rn, and I haven't really gotten back into reading much fic for the ship or much femslash in general... Instead I've read a bit of Marvel, some more 00Q and McDanno, and when it comes to my fic recs of the month, you can mainly see that my Star Wars obsession has come back with full force xD here goes:

• JasBen Save a Galaxy Far, Far Away Jaster/OW by @batshieroglyphics, 60k, T, Time Travel

• We're Jedi. We've totally got this. humor by @mytimeconsumingsidehobby, 16k, G, Time Travel

• Those Who Walk by @antebunny, Vader, Leia, Luke, Obi-Wan and lots of chaos, 50k, G

• How Does it End Again? by thatonefangirltho, Din Djarin time travels and becomes Mand'alor, 260k, G

• For I Still Live by saltysarah, Mandalorians at MelidaDaan, 600k, G-E, mainly Obi-Wan but lots of different POVs for example Dooku or Asajj Ventress, the series is in order of posting date, I put the reading order in my bookmark just scroll down on the link :)

• stars sing my name, scars tell my story by @independent-variables and the follow-up there's a place for us by @djemsowhat, total 60k T, the clone wars are stopped before they can begin

• Ashes Verse by @livsy, Old Ben has time travelled back to the clone wars era, Anakin notices. 38k, T

• All the Stars and Galaxies in His Eyes, 16k, T, by @wanderingjedihistorian, Jango has a ka'ra-given quest as Mand'alor, eventual Jangobi

But I do have one fic in another fandom I really liked:

• Catch Your Voice by @lavvyan, a ClintCoulson (Marvel) shippy fic, 14k, T, #coulsonlives :)

On my To Read for next month are a couple Bering and Wells fics I heard about during the anniversary meetup on Discord last week, and of course I still have a whole bunch of Star Wars fic tabs open :D

No-pressure-tagging everyone tagged above to also share their fic recs!

Oh, and I made a book list! The tumblr poll's already over but you can still look through the listchallenge, and make your own as well if you like!

~ continue reading ~

I also randomly read a bunch of Jack/Elizabeth/Will ot3 fics after rewatching the first Pirates film with my mom? Not my usual ship so it goes below the read- more, but yeah I guess saving it here for posterity xD

My Wordcount math as always:

Because my Excel died and wouldn't calculate Sum and I copied it to calculator you even get the History this month: 2275+616+22941+3970+12805+24832+1396+896+3079+2403+68596+552+1048+14192+2341+2722+2254+1346+1210+1199+1850+1224+1791+5340+2329+3120+3003+18299+46659+0+0+3452+13999+2530+6301+36193+791+264380+1520+623+1153+6145+1887+12196+653+2568+2848+1351+6018+1362+155+597+687+8110+385+1377+1414+1982+865+1753+6532+341+1574+2774+8279+1604+3394+1398+2018+1837+1455+1958+2049+1121+1255+2665+2222+915+2246+5908+1297+11750+17016+8628+2051+1368+1111+1473+1962+3042+5418+1164+746+3220+11272+11445+8504+18748+1173+2126+8043+11098+3235+4342+10198+19896+64481+4560+15750+2334+14552+3706+3887+3040+8688+3646+6176+19681+5876+7733+4671+1014+1702+2032+1866+5433+21852+5468+410+679+11492+1683+1943+5311+7146+22463+10796+12016+5322+5123+28301+1971+3941+2100+200+1952+8272+2033+250+2089+2124+37638+1261+4+10768+6079+1221+6366+6547+43760+21866+1677+6296+1329+3020+13910+9770+5065+3029+8758+2224+4193+7778+256282+1124+340+1596+1738+1293+1648+1171+2910+0+1517+1247+13565+8426+77395+2240+15343+7611+4414+2075+4077+643+915+649+2438+3437+1007+2532+16124+4927+16877+38060+3850+93391+3233+82922+2061+55675+68877+4150+1430+2386+60459+40523+2794+45538+24005+122+18+401+15108+17744+26428+28060+34157+12074+15179+30095+3599+6541+8248+11887+1403+169720+2630+1856+5875+1444+56461+5461+1289+3890+7388+19015+1468+8792+1654+3099+11880+5138+3603+4515+4609+3114+891+2097+2116+5782+6203+883+2593+1518+3242+5813+3670+2630+2529+4678+14180+1532+568+896+727+504+405+396+712+30868+1834+997+809+536+625+637+680+350+295+450+220+1309+2147+1411+403+543+721+1099+3267+930+396+2162+712+30239+9379+21501+24782+8560+1294+1767+3559+12524+1317+1818+1178+244+778+859+3630+11698+402+1793+1737+8567+4240+1134+3186+3318+549+1564+2672+1818+1858+568+10072+2860+368+1984+2053+1343+6376+1595+1076+14570+1356+4100+8970+8031+5613+8139+973+7791+18956+2207+16856+603+3306+3833+6044+10459+976+13614+14486+1945 Yea. It be like that =3393712

- To Read:−68596−64481−28301−13565−93391−68877− 26428−5461−7388−30868−1099−8970=−417425

- To continue reading −122718

- didn't read yet −19896

- didn't reread apr25 -30239

no non ao3 works this month

Total:=3393712−417425−122718−19896-30239

=2.803.434

My formula so I have it noted down for next time: history - to read(exclude:series, exclude: external source) - to continue reading (exclude: series, exclude: external source, exclude: to read) - didn't read yet (exclude: series) + external source (exclude: to read, exclude: to continue reading, exclude: didn't read yet) & check month tag (mar25 in this case) and add and subtract as noted (subtract usually, it's probably 'didnt reread now' on an old bookmark, unless it's external source I've actually reread)

Edit may5: ahh I just found a draft post from April 3 saying 'what I've been reading April'25: Stucky (specifically all kinds of stories where Steve finds out about gay rights <3)'. Which is so funny because yes I read a lot of Stucky the first days of April but in the end I read so much other shit that it just turned irrelevant! And to make it even funnier I think the exact same thing is happening this month! I read a bunch of Stucky fics the first few days, even wrote a Stucky drabble because I was so into it, and now today I'm fully back in the Star Wars obsession adsfghjkl

[crabsnpersimmons]

hi @uwuinhell!

i have a bit of a long answer to this, so i hope you don’t mind me replying as a post, just in case anyone else is curious

the tl;dr is: i'm planning to write a fic for this AU, but i'm happy to read your fic as well with proper credit

first thing is: i’m overjoyed by the positive response to this little AU! it’s definitely been occupying my mind as i’ve been studying (Eclipse is notably the most distracting) so i’m glad there’s an interest in such a simple premise—i was honestly hesitant to call it an AU at first by how simple an idea it is

that being said, i’ve been hinting at it a bit in some of my tags, but i am planning to write a fic for this AU it’s still in the planning and drabble stage, but there is definitely a story that i’m hoping to share. unfortunately, i am currently attempting to speedrun a 2 year program, so my time is short—and my leisure time is split between my other competing ideas and inhaling other people’s creative works to revive me after my daily readings

i will say that the AU has evolved quite a bit since my initial drawings—new designs, more background info, and a healthy dose of lore and trauma for the entire main cast—so there’s a lot i’m excited to share with you all

THAT BEING SAID, i am always eager to encourage other people’s creativity and i am so honoured that my little doodles can inspire people to be creative. so i would absolutely love to see your fic, i just ask that you:

credit me if it uses my designs and ideas; and

send me a link so i can read it, because i will read it and i will treasure it and do a silly little dance

in case anyone's curious, here are some not-too-spoilery notes about what i’m planning:

the working title is “New Do, Same You” (honestly still iffy about it—it fits the story but it doesn’t quite ring well, we’ll see if i keep it)

it’s a slice of life story about how we respond to change, dusting ourselves off and moving forward, while carrying the baggage and fragile trinkets that define us

off the top of my head, these are some relevant tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Polyamory, Hurt & Comfort, Drama, Slice of Life, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Kissing (eventually), Humour, Possessive Behaviour, Healthy and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Inferiority Complex, Body Dysmorphia, Existential Dread, Fluff, nothing NSFW

will likely default to a T rating, but will bump up to M for heavier topics

it will definitely be more than 5 chapters long. i don’t have an estimate on how long the fic will be. it's nothing too grand but i do know it will need quite a bit of time in order to properly explore all 3 of the boys and Y/N

there will be a Y/N, and Y/N has some lore, but other than some key backstory and key areas of development, i try to keep them gender neutral and as ambiguous as possible

i’ll be sharing the updated designs and some drabbles here when i have time—as soon as i can! (a little sneak peak is actually scheduled to post sometime today!)

i’ll also admit that this is my first time planning to write such a big fic and the first time i’m considering sharing it with other fans! my writing muse is very shy, so please be patient with me

in the meantime, please accept this (admittedly outdated) doodle of the boys:

[tielesiti-eftu]

just so Tumblr has the same info that the Rainworld Discord has currently

the second screenshot was sent in the announcements channel by the same person that sent the first big message. they were both sent yesterday at 2:46 PM and 3:19 PM (CST)

I don't follow Rain World tags so I don't know if this has been posted but just in case it hasn't, I wanted to make sure it was known that the Ludeo situation has been acknowledged and hopefully a statement should be made in a day or two

EDIT 1

another message just went out from Buddy a couple minutes ago

EDIT 2

the update has been pulled completely!

this edit to the post is admittedly very late--I saw it stop getting notes, and figured that was the end of things, but since it just got five more today I wanted to retroactively add this part. my apologies for not doing so sooner.

I urge anyone that reblogged the version of this post without his information to please reblog this version, since the situation is now resolved; I don't want people to assume it's still ongoing when it was wrapped up nearly a week ago

[like-tears-in-rain-storms]

An Info Announcement for anyone interested/following me

I've really been finding gifmaking unexpectedly soothing at a time when I've lost touch with my creativity - I've not picked up a pencil or a brush in too long, and for a year now I've been unable to write. I feel I have lost both my confidence and my inspiration and it has been very hard, because these have been times when I needed both the solace and the escapism it provided me. I don't know when I'll be able to return to my writing and art, much less when I'll be ready to share them again. Through making gifs I finally found a small way to be creative doing something that demands attention and repetition, which is what I'm craving to soothe myself right now. And through that I've rediscovered my love for movies which is a hobby I had neglected recently.

Turns out you notice many things when gifing scenes, and appreciate cinematography and visual narrative, even dialogue, much more. It's been a new and exciting way to engage with cinema in a transformative way. So I'm taking this opportunity to produce some gifsets of a few of the movies I love and which I've not seen much material circulating online about, in the hopes that

1. someone looking for it like I used to do will find it and be merry,

2. I can engage in a little personal commentary/criticism through the visual without the need for long essays,

3. people will get to know about less well-known films and might find something they like there, and

4. at last I can contribute something a little more substantial to a space and, hopefully, people who have made me very happy with their own work in the past and have been so cool all this time.

I will take advantage of the recent renewed interest in movie-sharing to gif some movies I love very much (my main interests are nicely-costumed and atmosphere'd historicals, old-timey European cinema(eg. Vláčil, Visconti and Żuławski,etc)and films with preternaturally attractive cinematography and/or protagonists). Many of them is rare to find rare to find gifs online if, and since I'm doing this for fun, though too broad in my movie tastes, I'll start from my favourite movies and I'll go from there, depending on my mood. I might do some Greek movies eventually too - and if anyone has any movie suggestions to make, I'm always game to look them up.

That being said, I'll keep posting about Wh40k, and I intend to gif a lot more of TTS since I'm rewatching it right now (have I become the TTS gifset blog yet in vernacular 😂) and I might even try doing Hunter: The Parenting as I got into it and it's amazing too and a worthy spiritual companion to TTS. And I do intend to post more quotes and passages from my favourite books, especially since I'm on a scifi/fantasy kick recently (let's not forget the Tanith Lee crusade!)

I can't guarantee strict adherence to any sort of rules, since this is an uncertain period for me and I'm going through some personal stuff; this is just to inform people what they're in for with this blog, in case it's not to their tastes or, conversely,in case it is.

You can find my gifs under the tags my gifsets and my gifs.

My movie gifsets in particular will be tagged as my edits, movieedits and filmedits.

The TTS ones are under the #if the emperor had a text to speech device and under all related Warhammer 40k tags.

Book-related stuff is under quotes and books, as well as under author names or genres.

Thank you very much for the support all this time. Hope you enjoy!

(and as always Ave Dominus Nox!)

[iobartach]

haven't made a ramblings post in a while 😶 sooo i reckon, with aus on my mind, i'll put together a lil' list , in case folks would like some bite-sized details at a glance below.

anddd just before i proceed, i wanna point out, since i'm a glutton for storytelling ( <3 ) in addition to verses / aus, i also have story arcs! I call these chapters, and you can find out more info here!

now, on to business! ;

the next stage ; based on the [prototype] games; miguel got bitten by a hunter and now he's a walking, talking biohazard 👍 ( well, more than usual...)

the talk of the town ; marvel / earth-928 based; early days miguel, out here work for A.lchemax by day and fighting evil corporations at night. a.k.a.home 🏠 , in the days before he went looking at the multiverse

father knows best ; more or less a horror au / 'what if' ; miguel found another gabriella. but it ain't wholesome in the slightest. 💀

cross the rubicon ; marvel / earth-928, but this time, with dimension hopping! ; miguel's main verse. everything atsv related happened within this verse exclusively. is also the default choice for crossovers with non-marvel chars!

a hero gone astray ; based on overwatch; miguel is a geneticist involved in a program that aimed to surpass the achievements of SEP , thanks to a revolutionary gene imprinting technique that he invented. it's left him as a marked man.

a small cog in a big wheel ; corperate!miguel / cyberpunk 2077 based; your classic dystopian au, a.k.a, if miguel had never gained powers / became the s-man. alchemax is the default corpo, and for cyberpunk 2077-specific threads, will be a mix of arasaka / biotechnica, as needed.

man out of time ; marvel / earth-616 based / modern day; a slight twist on an actual spider-man 2099 comic book plot; mig's stuck on earth-616 / 'in the present day', cut off from 2099 & the spider society, so he returns to crime fighting. the majority of interactions with mcu / other media / marvel comics muses will fit into this!

ravenous hunger ; bleach / zombie au; miguel crossed paths with a quincy, and became zombified. it's left him with an appetite he cannot satiate. so he's asking anyone he can for help with a cure.

fighting like a man possessed ; kengan ashura based; miguel is a fighter that represents alchemax at Kengen matches.

life processes ; jurassic world based ; miguel is a geneticist working InGen, on Isla Nublar.

running out of options ; based on overwatch; after a horrible accident left several dead and miguel as the sole survivor, he believes that his life can't possibly get any worse. that is until he learns of his brother gabriel's kidnapping, and what he must do in order to rescue him; join Talon, or else add another death to his conscience.

valour in the void ; marvel / ratchet gladiator / deadlocked based (extension of main verse!) ; sort of a side plot, this time! miguel is captured and dropped into a series of gladiator-style challenges, where heroes are forced on pain of death to compete and fight for their survival. all in front of thrillions watching live from around the Shadow Sector

death is not the end ; based on the villains series ; upon surviving a near death experience following an accident in the laboratory, miguel has never quite felt the same. and to make matters worse, he happens to grab the attention of a man that seeks to claim the lives of those who didn't die when they were supposed to.

a fresh lick of paint ; auxiliary / companion verse; unique in that it's more of a wardrobe change, rather than an actual au. basically, if this verse tag is on a post, then it will denote that miguel is in fact using his armoured suit (full details here!)

ceiling crawler ; based on the bioshock series; set in rapture. miguel is the prototype spider splicer!

a deal with the devil ; marvel / earth-928 / symbiote au ; when investigating an incident, miguel becomes bonded with an unnamed symbiote.

infected world ; based on the resident evil series; here, miguel's work, in addition to genetics, leans into virology as well, and still oversees the Corporate Raider Program. except, in this version, it is Alchemax's attempt at 'immunising America's finest against the most prevalent viral strains of the time'. and made more difficult still when the same guy you trust to run the project becomes infected himself....

endurance of pain ; historical / mythology inspired verse ; miguel is the son of the great goddess, the one who endures.

spilling of blood ; marvel / earth-616 / vampire hunting ; miguel is caught up in the events of Blood Hunt , and helps to free New York from the control of vampires. also used for any Eternal Night Falls based plots, plus generic vampire plots as well. (also, quick reminder, miguel is not a vampire himself!)

united action ; based on doctor who series ; miguel is a multiverse expert and works with U.N.I.T. to investigate unexplained phenomena.

complete chaos ; based on the borderlands series; miguel's a hyperion stooge. 'nuff said.

the final pin ; pro-wrestling au ; miguel forms a tag-team with his brother gabriel, going from promotion to promotion

each strand of silk ; based on league of legends / arcane series ; miguel is the acolyte of a soul devouring spider god. don't ask him about what happened in the Shadow isles.

baron with sharp teeth ; marvel / earth-23291 / Battleworld ; a version of miguel in which he is both the CEO of Alchemax and the leader of the Avengers

[stellaluna-the-hybrid]

Welcome~!

Thanks for dropping by! I'm Danny, she/her, 23. I've been watching the Pokeask community for years now, and I had my own blogs for a wee bit, but I was never able to fully step in the way I wanted to.

This Pokeask blog will follow the story of Stellaluna, an Espeon/Umbreon with a mystery to solve!

Find Stellaluna's Reference here. It will update as their story expands.

Below you will find:

Rules

Tag Directory

???

Again, I am new, so please be patient/understanding as I find my footing and personal flow to using this blog. I'm very excited to properly start, though, and I hope you also enjoy your time here. ^^/

Thanks and enjoy!

P.S. If you remember Amanda the riolu or the seafarer Manaphy, those were me! Hi!

Rules .

- this blog will always accept asks- however, askers may only be of the pokemon universe. this story revolves around the PMD universe but you do not have to follow that! asks with no pokemon ties will be treated as such, too (as in, they will be asked through anonymous pokemon).

- asks, ask calls, etc. will be open unless announced. keep in mind the person running this blog is still human and has outside responsibilities. delays and breaks may happen. being rude or insistent on getting updates may result in a warning / block.

- please do not send asks with the intention to simply receive art from me, the mod, of your characters. i do not know if this is a problem at all, but i want to put this rule here just in case as i do not want it to be the driving force for engagement!

- not all asks will have unique art- many will have text responses with expression icons for flavor. again, this is a blog for fun, and i will draw as i am able to/am inspired! please do not pressure any art for any ask.

- all asks are open to continue further as roleplay. these will be put under Read More if they get too long. there is no rush/pressure to continue a dialogue, but do let me know if you wish to end it so i may know!

- themes on this blog are not expected to reach past PG-13. however, sensitive themes will always be tagged, and anyone is free to send a request to tag a certain topic.

- sending suggestive or crude topics will result in an immediate block.

Tag Guide .

OOC / Blog Announcements / Information:

ooc -- mod announcement -- info -- mod speaks -- TBA

IC / Asks / Responses / etc.

TBA -- TBA -- TBA -- misc.

ic -- answered -- replied --

Art / Gifts

mod art -- star-sent blessings

Plot-Related Posts / Lore / TBA

arc - (x) -- TBA -- TBA

Story so far .

Introduction

1

2

3

4

???

1

2

3

4

More to come...

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Author's note: This lemon-drenched snippet is not for minors nor the good of taste. It's cursed. This is your first warning. The second is the "Read more" cut. After that, you are on your own and any bad decisions are your own <3 Check the tags for more info. Enjoy~

It’s just his luck.

He’d been separated from Ron, Hermione, and Dobby just as the house elf’s magic transported them away from Malfoy Manor, leaving Harry there. Alone. Surrounded by Death Eaters. Well, Bellatrix and three less-than-enthusiastic Malfoys, but the odds still weren’t in Harry’s favour.

So he’d used Malfoy’s wand to blow up a wall with a well-placed bombarda and ran the fuck away in the ensuing chaos. His ears are still ringing from Bellatrix’s demented screeching. 

And he has yet to be found – his scar feels like hot oil is being poured into it with how irate Voldemort is with the incompetence of his followers because of this fact. The issue is that Harry couldn’t give anyone directions to find him, either. Malfoy Manor may as well be a labyrinth with all the twisting, circuitous paths and hallways and nooks (and even some crannies). He is thoroughly lost.

He’s made his way to a three-storey attached greenhouse, filled with plants large and small. Most are magical, but some he recognises from his many, many hours weeding and tending to Aunt Petunia’s garden. He’s not sure who would be more disgusted to have shared tastes – his aunt or Narcissa Malfoy. 

With the far wall being entirely glass, Harry is almost certain he can get outside from here. There has to be a door. And… well, if there isn’t, he’s not going to be shy about breaking some windows, if that’s what needs to be done.

He finds a patch of glass panels that have no plants nearby and thinks he’s on to something. Carefully checking for hinges or handles or any other sign that he could open them, Harry’s attention is fully on the glass.

This proves to be a mistake.

He has the barest hint of what’s to come when he feels a curiously fleshy press against his ankle, and then he’s being dragged on his stomach away from the greenhouse wall and into a dark, leafy mass that blots out the scant moonlight.

And he recognises the shape of these leaves. After their adventure at the end of first year, he’d made sure to remember this plant in case he ever ran into it again. This Devil’s Snare is a bit more proactive than the others he’s seen, though. They’re typically opportunistic and wait for victims to come to them – he doesn’t remember them pursuing prey.

He very slowly and gently extracts his stolen wand from his sleeve and casts lumos. But instead of shrinking away from the light – like the bloody thing should – the plant somehow produces an ear-splitting shriek and seizes his wrist with a vine, squeezing until he drops his wand and using another vine to bat it away, spinning into an unseen corner.

And now he’s pissed the plant off. Unarmed and still in the grip of a vine, Harry feels the adrenaline kick in. He slows his breathing and tries to stay calm, as struggling will only make things worse, but it is difficult. He wants to get as far away from this weird Devil’s Snare as quickly as he can – he feels the hair on the back of his neck standing up – but he’s not sure how to manage that.

He feels a rough, vegetal limb slip under his shirt, making him panic and twitch, and that seems to be the sign the plant was waiting for. The vine around his wrist pulls taut, drawing his arm out and pinning it in place as more vines wind around his legs and drag them straight, while others twist around his torso, trapping his left arm to his side. He feels very much like a favoured toy being fought over, tugged in all directions and unable to escape or even move.

The vine under his shirt begins prodding at his belly, making him squirm and causing the vines to squeeze tighter until he shouts in pain, at which they loosen slightly. Then, he feels more and more tentative touches along his legs, his chest, his hair, and his face – everywhere they can reach. 

They poke around his mouth, and he keeps it firmly shut until the vines around his ankles clench tightly enough to force another pained cry out of him. An inquisitive tendril sneaks inside his open mouth. He bites through it immediately, spitting the end out with savage glee. With another high-pitched noise, the plant wraps a vine around his throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until he’s certain he will pass out, black edging his vision and lungs on fire with lack of air.

When it lets up, he coughs and hacks until his body remembers how to breathe, and he pants in as much air as he can. Several thin vines take advantage of this, slipping into his mouth to trace his teeth and tongue, press against his cheeks and palate. He switches to breathing through his nose and threatens to bite the vines again, but there are enough that he can’t close his mouth tightly enough to shear through them.

He’s lost track of what’s happening to the rest of him, but the other vines have been busy in his inattention. And damn the Dursleys and their hand-me-downs from Dudley, and damn Harry for not buying better-fitting clothes, because there’s plenty of room for those vines to wriggle under his jumper and trousers. He squawks through a mouthful of vines when a couple caress a little too closely to his delicate bits for comfort. Thankfully they continue past that part of him, though the sensation of them rubbing against his bare thighs isn’t much better.

“Well, well, Harry Potter,” a familiar voice says from somewhere. “We’re finally together again and you’d rather entertain the flora.” 

Harry has never been happier to see– er, hear Voldemort. He’d rather take his chances with the bigoted megalomaniac than the amorous plant weaving tighter around him.

Except Voldemort doesn’t do anything – doesn’t even say anything else. When a vine sneaks down the back of Harry’s trousers and starts prodding at a place it really shouldn’t be prodding, Harry’s had enough.

He fights his way up far enough to glare at Voldemort, silently demanding why he’s not killing him or cutting him out of this lusty Devil’s Snare to monologue at him before killing him. The bastard plant takes exception to this, attempting to pull him back down and pressing more insistently against his arse. Harry grunts in alarm, squirming away as much as he can when the vine simply follows him to push harder into him. He squeaks, and if his face looks more pleading than he’d like, he’s willing to cut himself some slack.

Maintaining eye contact, Voldemort conjures a wingback chair and sits down in it a few feet away, facing Harry.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he drawls, leaning back and getting comfortable. “I’m in no hurry.”

Harry groans in distress as the plant's many limbs continue to move against and in him.

(Part two, where the Harrymort happens)

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The killer has the police fooled. Meanwhile, you and Eren enjoy more of each other’s company.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, dry humping, make out, mention of stalking, murder, mention of torture, mention of rape.

— Notes: Welcome to chapter 7 <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

lost signs

“Detective.”

A meek voice pulls Levi's attention from the paperwork scattered across his desk, as a fresh manila folder is promptly set down before him.

“The notes on the autopsy.” 

Every other task is instantly abandoned as the raven-haired man grabs the folder and goes through the pages of the autopsy report, along with the notes provided by his subordinate. 

Less than an hour later, Levi's knocking on the door of his captain's office, staying true to his habit of walking in before being invited.

“What do you have there?” 

Erwin Smith barely spares a proper look at Levi as he continues scrolling through a file on his computer. 

“Carly Stratmann's autopsy notes.”

Erwin simply nods, not showing much interest in the topic but not yet doing anything to shoo the stoic detective from his office. 

“You're the lead detective on this case. Don't tell me you need me to hold your hand for this.” 

Levi clicks his tongue at the remark, but straightens his posture to keep up his stern appearance. 

“I think we need to raise a few alarms.”

Erwin shoots a menacing look in his direction, but purses his lips before he can spout another sharp remark.

Levi Ackerman hasn't been working the homicide department for long — just barely a couple of years after transferring from property crime, and just as many major cases under his belt. 

His sudden need to raise alarms doesn't come as a surprise to Erwin. The man's got good instincts, albeit he's a bit too quick to act on them for Erwin's liking at times. And that's when he intervenes to rein him in.

On a day when he's so burnt out from work, the task is even more annoying to take on than usual.

“Is it the same M.O. as the Langnar case?”

“Not exactly, but—”

“I'll stop you right there, then,” Erwin firmly says, holding a hand up to make his point, hoping he can cut today's coolly disguised frenzy short. 

Though calm and collected — practically icy — on the outside, detective Ackerman has been letting his personal convictions sway his thinking since the Langnar murder. 

Erwin doesn't care to know much about his subordinates — it's just a job — but he knows Ackerman has a beloved niece of similar age to the recent murder victims living in the city, and it doesn't take much to deduce that's where his hidden worries stem from. 

“There aren't many coincidences, it's true,” Levi states, resisting the urge to harshly spit the words at his superior. After all, a man who wants to be heard, has no need to raise his voice. “But even if these are isolated cases, it wouldn't hurt to… I don't know, set up a curfew… send out more units to patrol at night. Erwin, two women were murdered without a trace of DNA from the culprit.”

He sighs, then mutters the next few words under his breath.

“That's not a fucking coincidence.”

Erwin leans forward into his desk.

“Alright, Ackerman, I'll humor you for a minute.”

His hands clasp together, his chin resting on top as he formulates a question.

“Aside from the lack of DNA and the fact that they're women, is there anything in the autopsy reports that's enough to suspect we've got a serial killer in our hands?” 

Levi tenses his jaw, tongue rolling against his cheek before sourly replying.

“No.”

Erwin's eyebrows rise as a sign of finality. But Levi stands his ground, taking his gesture as defiance.

“I get your point. Stratmann could have nothing to do with Langnar. Maybe it was someone they knew or maybe it's not. If that's the case, are two criminals better than one? Is that what we're hoping for?”

Erwin's stern gaze falters for a split second, but he recovers just as quickly.

“How do we discard a serial killer in the making? What if this person hasn't fixed themselves on their M.O.? We can get them early in their career if we make a move right n–”

“We can't make moves based on gut feelings.”

Erwin's statement makes Levi shrink back for the first time since walking into the office.

“Langnar was tortured. Her injuries were consistent with weeks of trauma. Choked, handcuffed, cut, beaten, sliced at the mouth post-mortem, and dismembered. A very tedious and meticulous process, wouldn't you say? She had to have spent weeks in captivity and that points to either a person who was close enough to lure her into their trap or a stalker who observed her before kidnapping her.” He gestures for Levi to hand him the file in his hands, snatching the folder and ripping it open once he's close enough. “Stratmann was sliced at the neck, choked beforehand, raped post-mortem. It's sloppy and clear to have been done on a whim.” 

“She was left in a dumpster, too,” Levi reminds him. “Just like Langnar.”

Erwin presses his lips into a thin line, his thick eyebrows weighed down with severity.

“That's not enough to go off of. We can't cry ‘serial killer’ over one measly coincidence.” 

Levi can feel himself wavering at Erwin's arguments. 

“Can we at least impose a curfew?” he asks.

Erwin heavily sighs, enough for the movement to be caught on his now slumping shoulders.

“As I said, bring me solid proof of a connection and we'll talk.”

“Okay. Spill,” Mikasa orders as soon as she scurries out of the bathroom and plops down criss-crossed on the sofa.

It's Saturday night and you and Sasha are staying over at Mikasa's place for a girl's night.

The living room floor is littered with blankets, cushions and pillows, and the television is playing a random horror movie that has gone ignored since Sasha wondered out loud how Eren was doing a few minutes ago. She seemingly asked nobody in particular, but it was clear you were meant to respond with both girl's eyes set on you the moment the green-eyed man's name came up.

You figured the sleepover was a cover for an ambush. The girls formed a separate group chat for just the three of you, coincidentally the day after your first date with Eren and have been asking to get together for the past week. 

You tug nervously at the sleeve of your pajama top, shying away from the expectant gaze that seeps through Mikasa's face mask.

You shrug.

“What do you wanna know?”

“Who made the first move?” Sasha asks, scooting closer to you as if that means she'll get more details.

You ponder for a moment. It's hard to tell. Eren was first to ask you out two months ago, but you were the first to kiss him last Saturday. In a way, you both had a chance to steer the wheel.

When you explain this to the girls, they swoon, falling into a fit of excited giggles.

“I never pegged you for the bold type,” Mikasa grins, lightly smacking your shoulder. “I bet Eren loved that.”

Sasha nods in agreement, giddy.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us right away,” Mikasa pouts. 

“I don't think you would've remembered, Mika,” you say. “You had three Long Islands that night.”

“Still, it would've been nice to know,” she sighs dramatically. 

“Okay, so you got together the night of the Halloween party,” Sasha reviews. “But what about the day we went to Sunrise? I totally thought you guys had a thing going on back then. I mean, Eren never left your side, even before you got hurt.”

The apple-picking trip seems like so long ago, but the memory remains fresh in your mind. You smile at the mental image of Eren's serious expression as he claimed to never have been so curious to know anyone before you.

“Oh my gosh,” Mikasa squeals, aggressively smacking Sasha’s back as she's reminded of something. “She was feeding him peanuts on the way there. They were so shy, it was adorable.”

Instinctively, your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment. It didn't even register until now that the people in the backseat witnessed the awkward exchange. 

Now that you've tasted the lips that brushed against your fingertips that day, the reminder seems even more embarrassing. 

You smack your cheeks lightly in an attempt to ground yourself. The girls watch you amusedly, exchanging knowing glances in between.

“Have you guys… you know.” Mikasa raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Warmth floods your cheeks again.

“Not yet,” you murmur. “We're taking things slow.”

She looks surprised, but nods in support.

“Of course,” she says. “Slow is good.” 

“Says the girl who pounced on Jean after one of his gigs because she was jealous.” 

“Hey!” Mikasa whines, growing shy at the accusation. “I had to get a message across. He was being petty.”

Sasha throws her head back in laughter.

“No, he was just stupid. He had no idea you liked him back until that night.”

Your gaze flickers between the two girls as you piece their conversation together. 

A blushing Mikasa picks up a cushion and chucks it at Sasha’s face who easily avoids the blow and laughs at the raven-haired girl's pout.

“Whatever,” Mikasa groans. She turns to look at you, features instantly shifting into a more cheerful expression.

“So how do you feel?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“About Eren.”

“It's only been a week,” you explain.

“So?” she shrugs. “You guys have been spending a lot of time together, haven't you? Armin told me Eren's been driving you to work everyday. That means you've had a lot of one-on-one time.”

Shyly, you lower your head, focusing your gaze on the black and white pattern of the comforter laid beneath you. Your fingers mindlessly trace over the texture of the fabric.

“I guess so.”

Both girls smile.

“So what's the verdict?” Sasha asks.

“I… I really like him,” you sigh, lips tugged into a smile. “Like… really really like him.”

Another round of excited squeals and giggles echoes through the room. 

Their thrill only encourages you further, pushing you into a tangent of how thoughtful Eren is and how he always manages to hold you with so much care, bringing you peace each time he's close. 

“He makes me feel safe. Is that weird to say?” 

Mikasa shakes her head as she peels off the mask from her face, wrinkling the sheet into a ball and chucking it across the room to the trash can in one corner. She misses by an inch.

“Not at all. I don't mean to sound old-fashioned but you have to be with someone who makes you feel cared for.”

Sasha hums in agreement as she shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. She holds a finger up, asking you to wait for her to gulp down the snack.

“And someone who makes you laugh, also very important.” 

You nod along with Mikasa.

“Oh, and… well, when you get to it… someone you're sexually compatible with,” she adds. “People like to pretend it's not a big deal but it really is. Sex is okay but great sex with someone who knows how to touch you is where you find out if you're in sync. There needs to be communication and understanding and care. It's so fucking important.”

Mikasa looks down at her friend as she pats her head affectionately.

“You're so wise for someone who doesn't have a boyfriend.”

Sasha quirks an eyebrow.

“Hey, just because I'm not blurting it out to everybody doesn't mean I don't have anything going on.”

Mikasa hums contemplatively. 

“Do tell.”

The conversation takes a turn to Sasha’s latest sexcapades, and you take turns with Mikasa to look surprised at the stories she shares.

By the end of the night, when you're all teetering the edge of sleep with a third movie serving as background noise, your mind drifts back to the emerald-eyed boy who makes you laugh so easily, draws every emotion from you, and cares for you like it's what he was put on this earth for. 

Water pools at your feet out of thin air. You’re stuck in a dark void with no end, yet the water your eyes frantically search the source of keeps rising at a startling speed, soaking little by little into your clothes until it weighs you down.

Running seems futile. The void has no end and the water keeps steadily climbing up your body, so who knows how long you’ll have until you’re fully submerged — with no exit in view. Even if you could run, the weight of your drenched clothes would only pull you back. But you can’t even move anyway, you realize. You’re stuck in place, feet unable — or unwilling — to even take a couple of waddling steps. 

The water is up to your hips now. With trembling hands, you reach down and scoop at the liquid. It’s thick and with a smell so rancid it stretches through the infinite length of the emptiness you stand in. The water’s filthy. 

Your hands drop at your sides in an unsettling daze. The next second, your breath grows shallow and you start pulling at your feet as the water reaches your neck. Tears prick at your eyes as you cry at your feet, begging for them to move, to lift from the ground so you could at least make some weak attempt at reaching the surface for air. 

Suddenly, a light. Pure white shines brightly from far ahead, where a golden silhouette stands at the threshold between darkness and light — the void’s borders. The other person bangs their fists at the invisible wall keeping you apart, yelling something you can’t make out. Are they yelling at you? No, they don’t even seem to notice your presence. So who are they yelling at? Up at the sky��� They’re yelling something up at the sky. But what are they saying? Who does the golden silhouette even belong to?

Your left foot unsticks from the ground unprompted. A sharp breath is all you take before you make your first step toward the light, hand midair to call for the figure’s attention. Just then, an unknown body pulls you into them from behind, crashing your body down into the murky water, where your lungs fill with filth and your eyes flutter shut.

You wake with a small gasp coming through your lips. Still stiffened by the strange dream, your eyes are all that wander the unfamiliar room. The television is set to a screensaver, likely triggered by an extended lack of attention to whatever on-demand production was playing before you fell asleep. There’s a clutter of takeout containers on the coffee table and used glasses with remnants of soda that can safely be assumed to be flat by now. 

Slowly, you stir on the velvet green sofa you’re lying on, when you take note of the firm hold around your waist, followed by the soft exhales released onto the crown of your head. You look down at the familiar watch wrapped around the wrist of the hand that holds you in place.

Oh, you think. That’s right. I’m at Eren’s place.

He’s been having trouble catching up on work, meaning he’s had to stay up late for the past couple of nights. He’s a stickler about getting a good night’s rest, so the temporary change in work shifts has thrown him off quite a bit. You told him to stay home and rest — that you could go to the movies another time; next Sunday was fine with you — but he insisted on seeing you, even if it meant a more casual hangout in his living room with Chinese food and a comedy-drama film from the 2000s playing on the TV. 

At some point in the evening, the late hours caught up to him all at once and he even managed to get you to stay with him, wrapped in his arms as his sleepiness found its way to your body as well. 

Craning your neck, you peer at Eren’s sleepy face from the corner of your eye. You smile. He’s got an innocent look about him even in his sleep. His lips are parted just enough to take and release soft breaths. You sink back into the couch, wiggling around to find the comfortable position you were previously in. 

Eren feels you moving and his arm instantly pulls you closer to his body. His warmth transfers through every layer of clothing, enveloping you in a warm embrace. In his sleep, he mumbles a string of words you can’t quite comprehend under his breath, but the vibrations against your back coax you back into a peaceful slumber. 

The next time you wake up, it's already getting dark out. The coffee table has been cleared of its mess, and the body lying behind you is no more. Forced by the absence of his arms around you, you trudge out of the living room to look for him as you rub the sleep from your eyes. 

He's in the kitchen, back to you, filling a glass with cold water from the fridge. 

Leaning against the threshold, you watch him adoringly, marveling at his toned figure from behind. He chugs his first glass of water down, refilling it as soon as he finishes. As he brings the glass to his lips once more, he turns around, eyebrows rising slightly when he takes in your presence.

“Boo,” you smile, standing straight and making your way over to him.

He abandons the glass of water as soon as you meet him, opting to use his hands to push you closer to him by the small of your back as yours rest on his shoulders.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

You shake your head.

“Just felt lonely, all of a sudden.”

An amused air blows through his nose. 

Your hands find a way to his hair, fingers carding through the strands as he keeps his gaze fixed on your face.

His hair has gotten longer, and the strands around his face now cover his forehead, tickling the skin. It’s not messy, by any means, but it gives him an edgier look. The duality of Eren Jaeger’s appearance is a wonder to you. He’s got a way of tipping the scales between cute and sexy with every little thing he does. 

You smile at the few rebellious locks that poke out, still fixed in the angle provided by his nap.   

“What?” he asks, mirroring your smile.

“Your hair’s getting long,” you murmur.

“I’ll get a haircut soon, don’t worry,” he replies, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, amused by the way you follow after him once he starts retreating from the contact. He kisses you once more to keep you from pouting.

“I didn’t say anything,” you chuckle. “If you want to grow out your hair, that’s fine. You don’t have to keep it short. I was just pointing it out.”

He shakes his head, humming in denial. 

“Nah. This part’s starting to bug me. I just haven’t had time to get it cut,” he explains, brushing back the hair covering his forehead. He proceeds to squeeze your waist on either side. “But what do you prefer?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter with a shrug.

“Gun to your head, which looks better?” he smiles.

His extremist question earns him an eye roll but you answer him nonetheless after a beat.

“I like your short hair,” you finalize earnestly. 

He grins, cupping your face with one hand as he places a kiss on your cheek — then on your jaw, and one in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah?” he murmurs against the sensitive skin.

You nod, a small smile dancing across your lips at his tender affections.

“You look very handsome with a clean undercut. The day I met you I actually thought you were really good-looking.”

He pulls away from his task on your neck to stare at you in disbelief. 

“And yet you refused to go out with me. I can’t believe you.”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.

You laugh. The sound swells him with pride — it lights up the room.

“Looks aren't everything, dummy. You're so shallow.”

It's your turn to feign disappointment while he stands there, amused.

“Right, right,” he nods. “I forgot you fell for me because I'm a strong and dependable man.” 

He flexes his muscles, making a whole show out of his pointed remark.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your face is hard to deny. 

“Isn't that right?” he teases.

You don't humor him with an answer — there's no real need for it.

With his hands settled comfortably on your hips, he guides you backward, until your back is pressed against the counter, before he hoists you up and sets you onto it with ease. You welcome him between your thighs with a smile, breath hitching when he caresses your knee over your jeans and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“My baby,” he coos, pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto your skin. 

You giggle at the teasing meaning behind the affectionate name, heart fluttering at the feeling of him smiling against your skin.

The both of you keep your positions for a while — him breathing in your perfume while you stroke his soft hair tenderly.

Being with Eren feels so easy. It's a wonder how comfortable you feel with barely a week tallied for your relationship. Each morning and evening when he drives you to and from work have definitely helped. 

After your sobbing confession outside of your apartment, you apologized for making Eren feel as though he was troubling you by being so attentive. 

All the accumulated trauma in your heart had ironically made you the perpetrator of making him believe there was no real place for him in your life even after you accepted his liking for you. He didn't ask any followup questions that night, but he understood and vowed to be patient.

You're still trying to be okay with that — his unmoving loyalty. But it's easier to accept when you remind yourself he wouldn't stick around if he didn't want to.

Looking down at the boy in your arms, you smile. He can be so childish at times — teasing you, insisting you hold him, easily shaken by a few late nights. And yet there was something so comforting in his behavior. He's always so happy to see you, making sure to clock in quality time hours — not that he didn't enjoy the daily drives, but it wasn't exactly a date. Not to mention his unwavering need to make sure you're safe. At least his rare stubbornness has good reason.

Reluctantly abandoning the comfort of your neck, he lifts his face to meet your eyes. His gaze bores into yours, engulfing you in warm pools of emerald. 

A lazy grin takes over his features. 

“I like that,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows twitch in confusion.

“This,” he explains, bringing a hand to your head and mimicking the strokes you've weaved into his hair. “It feels nice.”

An airy chuckle escapes your lips and you make a point to stroke his hair more.

His face hovers over yours. His hands rest on either side of you as he leans into your affections. His eyes flutter closed as he sighs at your touch. 

You look up at him mesmerized by his angelic features. It's true you've always thought he's handsome, but this closeness makes you appreciate every detail of his face even more. His long lashes, the faint freckles on his nose, the thick eyebrows that are softening with each feel of your fingers combing through his hair, the perfect plump lips that whisper your name. 

It makes your heart pound against your ribs loudly, the sound echoing in your ears as your hands grow sweaty.

That's when you decide to pull him in for a kiss. His eyes flutter open for a split second of surprise before they close again, at peace and happy. Your hands lose themselves in his hair as his wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter by the small of your back.

The contact is painfully slow, with measured pecks in between deeper kisses. He melts into you, lips softly grazing yours, breath fanning across your mouth as he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth to later soothe the area with his tongue. His lips slot warmly between yours, dragging out at a snail's pace before coming back. 

The tip of his tongue pokes between your lips, shy but determined to be granted the access you so easily provide. A soft moan bubbles up your throat as his tongue caresses yours with vehemence. It's unusually hot, but the foreign feeling of his tongue in your mouth is greatly appreciated, marked by the way you desperately try to pull him even closer, in hopes that he can swallow you whole.

The pit of your stomach flutters and stirs with the most pleasant tingle when one of his hands travels to the back of your neck and he pushes his hips against yours. Despite the layers keeping you apart, it's easy to tell he's grown hard from the sweet exchange. He's rock solid under his pants, the delicate moans that bounce off your tongue and onto his making him bigger with every passing second. 

He knows you can feel it, but you don't seem to mind, your head too dizzy with the collective sensations being fed to your body — his warm tongue, his bulge brushing your most sensitive spot over your jeans, his left hand holding you in place by the back of your neck while the other firmly squeezes your waist as he's consumed by the passionate kiss. 

You cling onto him, thighs drawing closer to keep him flush against you. His hips roll against yours, brushing so deliciously against the spot that's growing wet beneath your clothing that it sends a tickle up your insides.

He sucks on your tongue, the act drawing more lustful mewls from the back of your throat. 

You're feverish, your face burning when your shirt happens to rise, exposing your midriff to his calloused fingers which were so careful not to touch any new skin before the incident. 

There's a string of saliva that connects your mouths when you finally break your fervent makeout. His lips are swollen and glossy with your saliva, as you're sure yours are with his. 

“Eren,” you weakly whine in between breaths. 

“Hm?” he hums, as he parts from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

You shudder when he swirls his tongue against your sweet spot before gently kissing it.

You whine his name again, though your voice has a stronger shape to it this time.

He turns to face you, pecking your lips just once before easing his grip on your body.

“I know,” he murmurs. “Slow, I remember.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

His nose brushes against yours as he tilts his head to press a calmer, cooler kiss onto your lips. 

“I want to, by the way,” you admit bashfully, avoiding his blown pupils and opting to look at a blank point on his shirt. “Just… not yet.”

When your gaze flickers to his, he's looking down at you warmly.

“I understand,” he murmurs. 

Your eyes flit toward the window, reminding you of how late it's getting.

“I should go, it's already dark out.”

Eren nods, pulling back from the counter until you both notice the tent in his pants. You tear your gaze from the area, searching for something of interest elsewhere. 

He blushes, ready to express an apology for his body's reaction to your wanton moans and feverish kisses, but you hop off the counter and trail off to the living room to search for your jacket before he can, leaving him to softly laugh at your meek behavior as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

When he comes looking for you in the living room a couple of minutes later, you're seated on the couch, waiting patiently for him. 

You smile upon his return, no trace of embarrassment left on your features.

“Do you really have to go?” he asks.

Your expression softens but you nod.

“We have work tomorrow. And I know how you get if you don't get your beauty sleep,” you tease. 

He rolls his eyes, but wears a playful smile nonetheless. 

“No. I mean,” he takes a deep breath. “You could stay the night… if you want to.”

His voice grows timid with every word as he gauges your reaction to his offer. He doesn't want to be pushy, by any means, but he hopes you'll accept.

He watches you chew on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say.

“Unless, of course, that goes against the whole taking-things-slow agreement,” he awkwardly laughs. “But I just… figured you should know… I wouldn’t object to you spending the night. No funny business. Just… to sleep.”

A breath of relief pushes past his lips when a small smile finally grows over your previously troubled features.

“Maybe not tonight,” you say. “But I’ll think about it.”

His lips curl inwards to hide his smile before he holds his hand out to you so you can head out the door together.

Eren swings your linked hands as you travel down the hall from the elevator. It's a habit he's developed over the past few days after seeing you cry for the first time.

The image lingered with bitterness in his head the entire night. It still pops up every now and then, reminding him he has to do everything in his capability to keep it from happening again. 

As you walk to your door, hands comically swinging more aggressively each time with Eren's playful attitude, he marvels at your laughing face, feeling at ease with everything concerning you. 

He finally eases up on his swing when you reach your door, but your fingers remain laced with his until you absolutely have to part ways.

“Sorry I was so tired today,” he says, holding your hands up to compare the difference in size. He presses his palm against yours, eyes shimmering at the sight before he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “I'll make it up to you next time.”

“I don't mind just hanging out,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It's fun.”

He smiles as he watches you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket with your free hand. The click of the lock always comes before letting go, but it's fine because he still gets to see you tomorrow morning for the drive to your office. 

You turn to him, leaving the keys dangling on the lock as you drape your arms around his neck.

“By the way,” you murmur, pressing yourself further into his chest when his arms wrap around your waist. “You can spend the night at my place, too, if you want.” 

His features twitch and his eyes light up with interest at the offer.

“No funny business,” you add, before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Just to sleep.”

He laughs.

“Of course. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

You smile, affectionately brushing your nose against his with your eyes closed.

“Just thought I'd let you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs mockingly, echoing your response from earlier.

You look up at him quizzically.

“Do I sense some competition over whose apartment we stay at first?” you accuse. 

“I’ll get on my knees if you want,” he quips without missing a beat, not bothering to be cool about the topic.

You giggle.

“Perfect. I love pathetic men.”

He stifles a laugh, eyes twinkling in amusement as a reflection of yours. Then he turns on a comically serious expression.

“Baby, I’m as pathetic as they come,” he firmly states, which makes you laugh even more.

“You're such a dork,” you giggle.

He hugs you tightly, playfully rocking your connected bodies in the middle of the hallway as he peppers your face with kisses, relishing in your amused squeals.

The giddiness in your expression remains even after you're both standing still and he's no longer attacking you with kisses.

“Thank you for making time for me,” you smile. “I mean, you already do so much with driving me to work and everything. If you’re ever not in the mood, you can—”

He cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s my pleasure.” 

You bite back a grin and nod.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs before letting go and beginning his journey out with backwards steps.

“Bye, Eren,” you smile.

Before he can turn on his heel, you catch up to him, instantly making him drop his confused expression for a much softer one when you press your lips against his in one last kiss goodbye. When you pull back, he's got a goofy grin on his face as he waits for you to explain yourself. 

You smile shyly.

“For the road.”

November 4, 2024

I found out where my angel lives. It's not too bad a place, but I'm sure she'll like the room I'm fixing for her better. I'm working on a way to get some of her favorite things over to my place. Hopefully she won't miss them too much before I can reunite her with them. 

I'm so relieved. It was worth keeping an eye on her for the last few days. The only downside to come out of this is that I have to see that jerk's stupid face everywhere. He just can't leave her alone for a damn second. 

It pisses me off to see him touch her like it's nothing. That should be ME kissing her and making her laugh. Not him. He shouldn't be allowed to touch her. Still, she looks so happy each time. But I can't be mad at her. I could never be mad at my angel. She'll realize soon enough that I'm the one meant for her. I just have to suck it up in the meantime. It's bad enough that I have to keep my distance for now but do I have to see her smiling at the wrong guy, too? I can't take it. 

She's gotten prettier. It seems impossible but it's true. I could look at her for days on end — and I have the past week as proof. Her smile is brighter and she's practically glowing. It only makes the wait even harder but I still have so much to get done for her arrival. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I finally bring her home with me so we can be happy together.

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[twcaw]

What You Should Know

General Info: 

Running from September 8th - September 14th 2024, Teen Wolf ‘Cest Appreciation Week is a week to celebrate all the incestuous ships that Teen Wolf has to offer. From Halecest to Argentcest, McCallcest to Stilinskicest, Yukimuracest or some Alpha Twincest, whatever you want to create is up to you - and all of it is welcome!

Rules: 

1. Please, please remain respectful.

No kink shaming, nasty comments or overall rudeness. This should be kept a safe and welcoming place for anyone participating (whether that’s as a content creator or content consumer!). Really, just be nice!

2. Works in progress are welcome!

We all know how much work it can be to finish up fics for an appreciation week. Hopefully everyone will have lots of time to create as much amazing content as they want, but in the case that you don’t finish something up - don’t worry! WIP’s are more than welcome.

3. Themes are not mandatory!

If you don’t like a specific theme (or any of the themes) that is a-ok! They are more suggestions that you can follow if you want - the purpose of this event is to get people creating content for our favourite 'cest ships.

Posting: 

How does posting work? This account be tracking all posts under the tag #TWCAW2024 tag and will reshare all posts that tag this blog. You can also post to the AO3 collection here.

Questions:

 If you have any questions, you can jump over to the ask box and ask! Anonymous questions are open and welcome as well. Ask your questions here.

Lastly, have fun!!

Again, the purpose of this event is to create fun content for Teen Wolf 'Cest ships. Keep an eye out for a Theme List, and have fun creating!