#those things are PRICY

[trapper-faggot]

Took a trip to the plant shop today and I'm absolutely in love with my new children 💚🪴💚

[idkhow-butyoufoundme]

Lmao welp

[crimson-eyes]

is there a way to not feel bad about clothes that you previously bought

[yoohyeon]

Today I gotta bake my own birthday cake can you believe ? 😔

[sserpente]

A/N: This popped into my head earlier, I had to write it before Christmas is over for this year! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1348 Warnings: fluff

“Okay but what if the villain turned out to be the alleged ally? You know, that siren they met that showed them the way? If you want a plot twist, that’s gonna blow their minds.”

Making friends used to be so much easier back when you were still in kindergarten. You’d look at each other, share a toy and play pretend without even knowing each other’s names. Today, things were more complicated, especially when you moved to Hawkins, not knowing anyone.

A small town such as this was generally suspicious of new people, even at your new job which was the reason you had moved here in the first place. Everyone had been suspicious—everyone except for Eddie Munson who had practically welcomed you with open arms.

Now here you were, working on his new campaign with him on his bed, cuddling with one of his pillows and watching him frantically scribble down ideas for it. One of his mixtapes was playing in the background, introducing you to a bunch of bands you had never heard of before. Sure, you knew Metallica but you’d never exactly listened to them until you met that goofy metal head.

“You know what, sweetheart, that’s a brilliant idea.��� Eddie grinned, tossing the dice he’d been fidgeting with to the side to write it down. It was then the both of you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Wayne stuck his head through the gap in the door. He gave you a quick nod when he spotted you.

“Uncle Wayne, old man, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Eddie asked, beaming at him.

“Change of plans. Have you got a moment, boy?”

“Oh, that sounds like my cue. I should get going anyways, it’s getting late. There’s still lots to prepare for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

You pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek before you slid off his bed and patted Wayne on the shoulder on your way out.

“Okay, I’ll see you after Christmas then?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss that campaign for anything!”

“I’ll see you around, kid. I keep forgetting you live on your own. Take a leaf out of her book, Eddie.”

You grabbed your jacket, chuckling when Eddie rolled his eyes. When you leaned down to put your shoes on, Wayne’s voice got quieter.

“So what’s up?”

“I’m sorry, boy, I have bad news. It… looks like I won’t be able to afford Christmas dinner this year. We’ll have to manage without a turkey. Those stupid birds cost a fortune these days…”

You swallowed, pretending you didn’t hear them as you tightened your shoelaces.

“We’ll just… have a frozen pizza meal, Wayne, it’s alright.” It wasn’t alright, you could hear the sadness and disappointment in his voice. Eddie had told you his Christmasses as a child had never been the jolliest, it pained you all the more to hear him pretend like he wasn’t bothered by the tragic circumstances.

“You sure, boy?” Your eyes travelled to the small Christmas tree in the corner of the living room. It was barely as high as the dinner table and decorated with those cheap plastic baubles they sold at the local supermarket. Given that Eddie and Wayne lived in the trailer park, the fact they weren’t all too wealthy didn’t surprise you. But this? Christmas was only once a year, if Wayne couldn’t even afford that, things must have been incredibly tough for them right now.

“It’s a really cold winter. The heating costs are a lot higher than usual, that ate up the budget for Christmas. I’m really sorry, Eddie. We’ll still have a great night, I hope.”

“Sure we will, Wayne.”

With a silent sigh, you tore your gaze away from the sad Christmas tree and sneaked out of the house, deciding there and then you wouldn’t let Eddie and his uncle spend Christmas with frozen pizza and without presents.

-

The thing was, you were initially going to spend Christmas Eve alone anyway. You didn’t exactly know a lot of people yet except for Eddie anyway and travelling back home to your family was too pricy even for you but at least, you would treat yourself to a few new books and most importantly, Christmas dinner. So now, instead of preparing everything at home, you packed up all the ingredients and sides and wrapped yourself up to visit the Munsons.

You had even gone out to buy some last minute presents for the two of them. Needless to say, when you knocked on the door on the night of Christmas Eve, feeling like the main character in a Christmas movie, Wayne was more than surprised when he opened the door.

“Hey, Mr. Munson. Sorry to disturb you on Christmas Eve without any forewarning, um… may I come in?”

“Of course, kid. Come in before you freeze on the porch.”

He opened the door wider for you to step in, revealing Eddie sitting at the kitchen table with his copy of The Hobbit. His brown eyes lit up when he recognised you under the warm scarf and the hat, calling out your name.

“Hey, Eds.” You grinned, putting the bags you had brought on the kitchen table. “Merry Christmas to you both. I, um… okay, look, this is going to be weird but the other day I, uh… I overheard you saying that your budget was too tight for a proper Christmas dinner this year and… I truly didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I was going to spend the evening alone and… well, long story short, I brought my turkey here and I thought we could have Christmas dinner together?” You gasped for air, hoping Eddie’s uncle wouldn’t be too mad you had heard about his financial struggles. Instead, he blinked at you, unwilling to believe what had just come out of your mouth and Eddie… Eddie wrapped his arms around you and kept kissing your face until you turned into a giggling mess.

“You’re amazing!”

“That’s… I don’t know what to say, kid. Thank you.”

Eddie lifted you off your feet in the meantime, turning you both around until you started feeling dizzy. “Shit, I’m officially in love with you!” You paused, realising what he had just said. Eddie appeared equally surprised about his own words. He put you down again and for just a brief moment, you looked at each other. You cleared your throat. You’d speak about this after Christmas dinner, without Wayne in the room—even if your heartbeat sped up by two-hundred percent.

“I, um… I brought presents, too.”

Ever since the new Metallica album had come out, Eddie was raving about the special edition vinyl including instrumental versions and even a new version of an older song. The local record store had had exactly one left when you got there and for Wayne, you had bought a new toolbox because his old one was falling apart and you remembered him saying he loved building and fixing things around the house. You’d wrapped them neatly, with both their eyes widening when you pulled them out of your bag and placed them under the small Christmas tree.

“Wayne, would you take care of the turkey? Eddie and I will prepare the sides. I brought potatoes and some fresh vegetables, and I made some sauces at home to go with the meat.”

“Sounds great, kid, thank you.” Wayne got to work immediately, accepting the turkey you handed him to move to the kitchen. Eddie nudged you with his hips, pushing you forward a little. You chuckled, handing him the potatoes. He looked at them as if they’d bite him if he touched them too much.

“Let’s go, Eddie The Banished. We’re all hungry.”

“Have I mentioned you’re amazing?”

“Uh-huh. And you can tell me some more while we’re chopping up the vegetables.” The kiss he pressed to your cheek in response felt different—more affectionate and intimate than your usual hellos and goodbyes. You bit your lower lip, heating up from the inside out. Merry Christmas indeed. You should have brought some mistletoe as well.

-

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story!

By the waaaay... I finally released my first novel! :o You can find all info about it in the Linktree in my bio! <3

Merry Christmas, everyone!

[bumblinv]

---  omaticayan (house) cats ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

feauturing neteyam, kiri, lo’ak, tuk

headcanons of them as literal house cats bc the entire omaticaya clan are just 3-meters-tall, walking, blue forests cats with bows. change. my. mind.

: ̗̀➛ tuk ; tabby kitten

“what breed is she?” 

“just a little girl”

you don’t know her exact breed

no one can blame you tho, she was jus a baby left by her mother in your backyard, that you took in

could be a mix of all sort of breeds, but to you, tuk was your little girl 

the moment you took her in, she was severely malnourished. so you feed her with your own hands, bathe her, sleep with her each night

she was like your own child

and you’re ready to fight every single person in this planet if someone dare to lift a finger againts her

the bravest little kitten you’ve ever know

but the silliest too, 

her entire body went wet as she got in, headfirst, into her bowl when she first learned to eat wet food

and one time she jumped into your aquarium to ‘catch’ the fishes

she would snatch pieces of wings from your plate and holds on it for her dear life when you tried to take it away from her </3

you would crochet matching hats for you and her

overall, the best lil girl ever

_

: ̗̀➛ lo’ak ; bengal cat

do i need to say more

he’d run all over the house, pouncing at every moving thing in sight, playing with his toys for hours, and getting to high places you never knew he could reach

one time he somehow got to the house’s roof. it freaked you out

you were convinced that this little bundle of energy is literally a cheerful puppy in cat’s clothing

with his adorable little coat, that took some time to put on, you take him to the park each morning. this is mandatory, or else he’s too energize to sleep at night and would start knocking things over at 3am (wich you learned the hard way)

at the park, his curious self would sniff everything and anything. a tree, a man’s leg, until he got too curious to a little winged fella, that a pigeon once pecked him on the head

he befriended every single dog and cat around the park, but would get a little salty if new people tried to touch him

at night, when finally, his energy went to 0%, he got cuddly. really cuddly, he sticks to you like glue

and i know he would sleep on your chest and suffocates you in your sleep

_

: ̗̀➛ kiri ; persian cat

she so bougie ngl

and a little moody too

you wont need an alaram clock, cause every morning, at the exact same time, she would sit on your face and starts screaming for food

i hope your wallet thick as hell cause i know she would only eat whole foods, like those healthy (and super fucking pricy) food rich cat persons feed their cats

kiri right there eating salmon and chicken breasts, and you’re left slurping your sad instant ramen 

things we do for our cats ammirite

half of your life savings went to her

from grooming money, for buying her expensive foods and vitamins, to all her essentials like her high tech self cleaning litter box(?)

she spoiled as hell

but i know she still has the audacity to scratch your hand and legs

don’t get me wrong, she loves you. the two things she dislikes the least was you and the big blue fish living in your pond (it was rotxo) 

_

: ̗̀➛ neteyam ; golden retriever

I KNOW I SAID CATS

but none of yall could deny

even as a person, he got that golden retriever personality 

always have a smile on his face, tail wagging every time

calm and loving, 

would befriend every other animal you foster, you sometimes find them all cuddled up together

have i mention that he loves cuddling? 

but remember he’s huge

would crush you every time he cuddles into your lap

but you never minded, cause he’s the sweetest, most gentle giant 

[scaralvr]

05. outside of school chapter five to the secrecy of our confessions [masterlist]

synopsis: scaramouche gets dragged to an outing with his sisters but his frown turns upside down when he sees you (n/n) = nickname

"KUNIKUZUSHI, YOU DICKHEAD, PAY ATTENTION!" mona screamed as fischl trudged around the clothing store, attempting to be a random person passing by. scaramouche hummed and waved his hand, not looking up from his phone. mona clenched her jaw so hard she swore she heard it clack.

she stomped over to where he was sitting outside of the changing rooms. mona pressed her index fingertip to his forehead rather harshly, "i didn't bring you along on this outing for nothing! now, how do you think this skirt looks on me?" scaramouche brought his phone closer to his face, tucking his knees in, "i think it makes your ass look even smaller than it already is." mona gasped.

fischl looked through the countless racks of clothing, trying to ignore the stares the people gave her siblings. she nervously whistled, making her way back to them. "may we please, please, please go now? i beg of you!" she whined, clinging onto mona's arm.

mona rolled her eyes, "oh, fine. get up off your ass, kunikuzushi and let's go." scaramouche didn't reply. she tapped her foot, raising her brow with a menacing glare. fischl gripped onto her older sister's shirt, "may i propose a suggestion, sister?... we could leave 'mouche to his own business for a bit and then come back-"

in one swift move, mona snatched scaramouche's phone.

"aha!" she snickered with a victorious grin. scaramouche attempted to run forward to grab it but failed when mona put her arms up high. "GIVE IT BACK, YOU, YOU-" he gritted his teeth, "YOU BITCH!" an old woman nearby gasped and people began to mutter.

mona laughed, tears growing in her eyes from the sheer ridicule, "oh, name calling, are we now, mister loverboy?" she teased, pointing at your twitter dm he was previously texting. scaramouche gawked, "shock!" (spyxfamily anya reference real) he shook his head and pushed her to the ground, "GIVE IT!"

fischl's mouth was left agape as she anxiously watched the twins go for each other's throats, "ah..." after much hair yanking and biting, yes, biting, the manager of the store had to kick them out from the amount of customer complaints. mona scoffed, "the clothes there were pricy anyways. come along!" she declared, leading the way.

scaramouche angrily blew a strand of hair away from his face, due to the fact that mona had confiscated his phone and shoved it away in her purse. and he was just starting a good conversation with you. fischl's eyes lit up as she tugged at her brother's sleeve, "look, look!"

scaramouche groaned, "fisch', i'm not interested in seeing those video game characters with huge boobs and thigh highs for no reason-" he froze when he pin-pointed where his sister was looking at. "it's..."

"(y/n)!" hu tao exclaimed, running over to grab your hands. she giggled, "c'mon, you slow-poke; the rest of us have been waiting for a decade now. you're always last to arrive at our little meet-ups outside of school!" she joked, poking fun at you. you nervously chuckled, "sorry, you know my parents. they held me up with studying for the upcoming exams," you explained with a smile.

hu tao led you to the cafe, "oh, really? i never study for anything, i'm just that good at it." she winked and you laughed. scaramouche instantly ran up to mona, "i'm hungry!" he said, a little too loud. mona scanned him up and down, "okay... and?" scaramouche pointed to the cafe with an innocent smile, "let's go there."

mona and fischl flinched together. "he never smiles... unless he's done a brutal thing or is planning something." mona thought to herself, suspecting scaramouche's odd behaviour. she flipped her hair, "fine." scaramouche could hardly contain a genuine grin from slipping.

"ooh, this place smells rather pleasant!" fischl commented as mona dragged her by the arm, "don't get distracted, fischl." in the meanwhile, scaramouche looked left and right, searching for your whereabouts. "i'll just have a frap and what do you two want?" mona asked, taking out her credit card.

fischl excitedly raised her hand, "a carrot muffin!" scaramouche bit down on his lip to stifle a smile as he saw you. "and you, kunikuzushi?" mona queried. he didn't look at her, eyes lingering upon your attractive face as you conversed with your friends, "oh... i'll just have a wichsand- i-i mean, sandwich," scaramouche corrected himself with a lovesick gaze.

mona mocked a gagging sound while sticking her finger down her throat and scaramouche shouted, "HEY, WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?" you perked up at the familiar voice at the same time. "say, you seem a little distracted today (y/n)," yun jin tittered. yoimiya squealed, "oh, it's him, isn't it!?"

butterflies formed in your stomach and your cheeks dusted a light pink, "who?" hu tao deadpanned, "just look at that stupid face. they're totally thinking about him." you smacked her arm and she whistled, "just saying." you rested your chin in your hand, closing your eyes with a smile, "we were texting just earlier, actually."

ayaka's eyes grew wide, "really!?" yoimiya giggled, "ohh, of course you two were. you've always been on that phone ever since he added you!" you waved your hands around defensively, "hey, it's not all the time!-"

"kunikuzushi, you little shit, are you not listening to me again?" mona snapped her fingers. scaramouche quickly looked away when you caught his gaze by surprise. his face reddened as he glared at his sister, "what." she narrowed her eyes, "do you think i'm an idiot? just go talk to them, damn it!" she said, pushing scaramouche forward.

and he ended up, right in front of the table you were sitting at with your friends. hu tao gave him a judgy glare, loudly sipping from the straw jammed into a nearly empty pumpkin spice latte. you appeared surprised, "scara!" yun jin smugly repeated, "scara?" hu tao huffed, "so you two have endearments for each other now?"

both you and scaramouche blushed out of embarrassement, yelping in unison, "no!" you cleared your throat, "no, hu tao. um, sorry about her, she can be a little... eccentric with the way she comes off to people." you vaguely explained and hu tao gawked, "ECCENTRIC?" scaramouche had a shit-eating grin on his lips, "i see."

hu tao and scaramouche, a 1v1 has begun!

hu tao crossed her arms, "have you dated anyone else before?" scaramouche replied with ease, "maybe, once or twice. but they were just using me to get in my pants." she squinted, "how do you treat your significant other?" he scoffed, "like they're royalty." ayaka, yun jin and yoimiya watched with interest as you panicked, "hu tao!-"

hu tao slyly smiled, "have you done infidelity?" scaramouche had a twinkle in his glare as he smirked, "i'm surprised, maybe even a little offended, that you think i'd stoop that low." you holding onto scaramouche's arm snapped him out of the argument.

"could we talk, elsewhere?" you asked with a nervous grin, but it was oh-so-obvious that you had to get away from your dearest, overprotective hu tao. scaramouche purely smiled at you, "of course, (n/n)." making sure hu tao heard it, he looked at her.

hu tao spit out her drink, "BETRAYAL!"

© scaralvr.

@meowlumi @beriiov @apr1cityyy @xtodorokismistressx @dollpoetwriting @bleedingwhiteroses222 @r0ttenhearts @sammy-hammy @atsukawolfcat @pooonyo @strawberryclumsy @emmaemoseila @kunikuzushiit @scaramouchesmoocher @lxry-chxn @koiir @rvoulte @scarasaver @slash3rcore @sup-zfam @cotton-eee @twistedrxses @dameofthorns @ayamvirus @thinkingotherwise @jameineliebe @thenightsflower @lumpywolf @whatamidoing89 @strawbxrrytiger @sunfloens @one-offmind @angryhope @skimm0nzz @etherisy

[tunamiya]

if i were dating you i’d take lots and lots and photos and video of us ♡ and make lil scrapbooks and i’ll give it to you on our anniversary. i’m not the best at all those crafty things but all of the words i’ve written in the scrapbook will be from the heart heheh oh and i’ll also make videos of our out of town trips :>

Kaileeeeee, scrapbook! and! videos!

one of the best way to document memories so I'll never lose them <3 I'll make sure all those videos are well kept in the hard discs, or we could even record using the old fashioned recorder so we could have stacks and stacks of video tapes, could play and project them on our anniversaries <333 and the photos? definitely will get a polaroid camera so we could take a lot of photos, I'll clip all those polaroids on the grid photo wall or paste them on the walls, stick them on the fridge I'll make sure they occupy all the spaces available in our home, signs and proofs of our love <333

"if I were dating you" ask

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere brother pt2

Part 2 of my self indulgent incest fic, gonna be a part 3 to this.

Tw: Heavy incest, sexual themes, infantilization, AFAB reader, yandere, general predatory, creep behavior, violence, A Lot Of Words (about 5000+ words)

Don't take this post too seriously, just take it like a forbidden fictional fantasy.

Ignore the plotholes too, im just writing whatever made my HeartTussy throb.

Part 3

Even though your parents are enabling your brother, they do try their best to subtly keep you away from him and try to guide you on your life journey as soon as you turn 13.

Your dad taught you about self defense and not so subtly hint that you may need to use some of these moves on your big brother. It was hard to find time to be alone with your dad, but during those rare and precious windows of freedom where your big brother has to go to university AND you're free? It's gun training time.

Your big brother tried giving a LOT of talks, including but not limited to the birds and the bees, puberty, the no boyfriend rule and many cringe inducing but crucial talks.

You were ADAMANT that you only want your mom to teach you about "girly things", which... made your brother whine about how sad he feels because you trust mom more than him.

Well yeah. He does not have a pussy. Mom does and you do.

At the end of the day, your big brother gave up with a dramatic sigh. He did tell you to feel free to ask him anything if whatever mom told you weren't clear. You didn't like how he would undermine her intelligence.

Ah, teenage years. Do you remember when you woke up with a face full of raging acne? All bumps and lumps with icky pus? You were a little upset about it, but you felt worse when your big brother began fussing over your skin condition.

Big brother would spoil you with only the finest and most expensive skincare ever. Facemasks, serums, luxury moisturizer, you name it, he will hand it over. Your older brother would take you to facial spas with the most sophisticated dermatological tech ever, those types of places where the richest of the richest only go.

You were insecure, you felt the pen holder that is on the shiny, marbled receptionist counter cost way more than you can ever dream to earn. You felt fucking poor in there despite wearing and holding all the pricy things your big brother gifted you before.

When he and the receptionist are discussing about the best possible package to purchase for you, you snuck out. This is unbearable, you can't take it anymore.

Yes, it is nice to be spoiled. Nice to be pampered, but it was all too much for your teenage brain to take in. You felt extremely inferior in there, your head made it seem like everyone is giving you nasty looks for leeching off your big brother's hard earned cash.

You ignored the incessant ringing of your phone as you took an Uber to the nearest pharmacy. You didn't need state of the art machines to get rid of acne. You didn't need face masks with 24k gold flakes in it. You didn't want to feel like an alien specimen in a lab. You did your research, you talked to your mom, you talked to what little friends you had...

All you need are those boring, clinical looking bottled skincare like CeraVe or Cetaphil. The stuff that's made by dermatologists and are proven to give you what you actually need.

Yeah, it isn't that cheap. But it surely is much better than the treatments paid by your big brother costing five figures. Plus, you finally get to put your "pocket money" to use. That $150 worth of acne fighting products hardly put a dent in your wallet.

To your partial surprise, you were accosted by your big brother while waiting for your ride back home. Unsurprised that he is angry, surprised that he managed to find you.

Then you remembered, you're holding the $2500 phone he got you and not your $15 burner phone.

You brought your palm to your forehead, your big brother told you he installed a tracking app on it. You were careful not to do anything on it because you knew that tracking app can also reveal ALL your activities to your older brother. Including but not limited to your browser's history, texts, recordings of phone calls, etcetera.

He held you tight in his arms as he reprimanded you. Tears were streaking down his face as he did so, landing on your clothes. He pinched your ear as punishment and dragged you back into his car, where he would bring you back to the spa to do your treatment anyways.

You would come out of the room glowing, skin clear of any flaws. Maybe even levitating because the treatment is Just That Good ™️. But you felt dirty. Going through this programme wasn't your choice. You can only give a tight lipped, insincere smile as your big brother and the estheticians praised you.

He apologized for yelling at you and bought you your favorite ice cream afterwards.

The thing that you found it weird and unsettling is that... He never asked you why you ran away. He only chalked it up as "normal" teenage rebelliousness and an attempt to "get his attention".

You ate your ice cream in small scoops as your big brother rambled on about bringing you to a luxury hairdresser to do your hair. You said you thought your hair is fine, he began nagging about how it's "dry", "oily", "ridden with split ends".... You zoned out. Whatever, his word is god, you guess.

He moved on, mumbling about how he is going to take you shopping, clothes, gadget, books, furniture basically non-consumable products. You stopped him there and said you have too many things already, it's piling up in your room and you're struggling to find space to put them.

He backtracked and said grocery shopping, you objected, saying your parents already did them and you do not want to have too much perishable items. It is wasteful to let them expire as you can't consume all of them in time.

He wanted to bring you to an amusement park soon. You said no, you have exams coming up. You need to focus on your future.

Gym? You're not comfortable doing all that around strangers. He agrees.

Movie theaters? Nope, you need to study. And you have friends.

He stammered, as he is running out of options, he offered to tutor you.

His heart shattered when you bluntly said you didn't need him anymore.

Then, he stopped talking. Only propping his head up with his elbow to watch you eat.

You know that he is trying to find ways to spend more time with you. Seeing that you now refuse to stay at his place during the weekends and on fridays. Your parents didn't actually force you to go there, they were "hesitatingly encouraging" you to. But they were more than happy to have you separated from him because he is a fucking weirdo.

The times where your parents forced you to be with him is when they can feel another fist fight is about to occur. You get it. For the sake of your father's nose cartilage, you begrudgingly agreed to this facial treatment in the first place.

Suddenly, your brother went on a rant about how your parents are poisoning you. Accusing them of planting a bad image of him in your head. They must have told you false stories about him being cruel, that's why you don't want to be with big brother anymore! Your dad is twisting the idea of big brother because he has a grudge on him!

You tiredly pushed another scoop of ice cream into your mouth to avoid talking back and causing a scene in an ice cream parlor. Of course, your big brother will never physically hurt you, but he can get super embarrassing if he wanted to. Reputation is damn crucial to a teenager

You let him vent. You let him get it all out of his system. If you don't, your dad is getting another cast done. It's literally the same thing he complained to you just a few days ago, verbatim.

"Ever thought of getting a fucking girlfriend instead of clinging onto my balls like a parasite?"

He watched you wide eyed. You realize what had escaped your lips and so you slapped your mouth shut before apologizing profusely. He does NOT like the topic of getting romantic partners and he hates it if you use profanity.

You were ready to get scolded, you were used to him treating you like a cringy nine year old. He is probably going to see this as another temper tantrum from you.

The classic "Language!" Never came. He is just frozen there, heartbroken and silently upset. His eyes were watery and his eyebrows were knitted together.

If you were someone else, mentioning about how he should get a girlfriend is enough for him to go batshit insane on you and get your molars knocked out. But coming from his beloved little sister, it is a whole new world of hurt.

He began softly sobbing in his hands, giving you this dilemma whether to try and comfort him or not.

If you do, you're going to enable him again. Possibly even making him worse, making him not take your "NO"s seriously. And that is dangerous.

If you don't... You seriously do not know what is going to happen. You don't want him to hate you (and possibly get your nose disfigured), but you don't want him to have this unhealthy, creepy ass obsession for you.

Before you could come to a conclusion on what to do, he told you to stay put as he excused himself to the bathroom, sniffling and wiping his face.

You contemplated on running away, calling an Uber to take you home and "accidentally" leaving your expensive phone on the table. So he can't track you down.

But you decided against it and ate your melted ice cream in silence.

Your brother came back half an hour later with puffy eyes and a warm smile. Asking if there is anything else he could get you from the ice cream shop. Would you like to try, pistachio? Mango? Black sesame ice cream? Big brother will buy it for you, just say the word.

No, you just want to go home. He frowned before reaching for your hand to grab it, as usual.

You remained silent as he firmly held onto your hand like a parent holding onto a helpless toddler.

After that, he acted like nothing ever happened. He never brought up that outburst again and continued babying you. However, you felt like something shifted. Something is wrong.

Yeah, there is that usual hostility between him and your parents, but... Toned down for a reason. Even your dad got a little unnerved when he stopped throwing punches arbitrarily.

For sure, it isn't out of the goodness of his heart. He has an ulterior motive to this.

He still attends Parent Teacher Meetings in place of your parents, winning the hearts of your teachers and other school staff. He tries his best to paint your mom and dad in a negative light, so if anything happens to you or there are some matters requiring a legal adult/guardian, they should contact him and him only.

They gobbled it up, if you had a penny for every "You're so lucky to have such a caring and loving big brother", you would have two dollars, 200 pennies.

There were teachers trying to woo him using you as a tool to get closer to him. Your big brother took it the wrong way and saw them as competition, causing them to flee the state for "family matters".

He brings the best cakes and pastries during PTA bake sales, always raking up the most revenue and donations. Your club members and charities love him because his handsome face, alluring physique and fucking Psychopathic charm adds to the tastiness of his otherwise only slightly better than average goods.

Your friends say he makes the best brownies in town. You can only give them a bitter smile as you ring them up, those are actually boxed brownies.

That's not to say he doesn't have any baking skills whatsoever. He mainly reserves his real handmade goods made from scratch for you, where it is tailored to specifically fit your taste. You get to choose how sweet, how savoury, how soft, how flakey and how flavourful you want it to be.

Sometimes when your brother comes to visit you at your parents' home, you would have friends over. He would be warm and welcoming if they're all girls (that passed his intensive background check) and does not show a pinch of romantic interest in him. Icy, stoic and even downright rude if one of your girl bffs flirts with him, absolutely apeshit hostile when there is a boy. Doesn't matter what sexual orientation, cis or trans, no boys allowed.

You know what he is doing. He is trying to get your friends' approval so they would encourage him to be around more. To be around you. It does freak you out because you ever found out one of your best friends was converted into a spy for big brother. She was paid cash and apple pies in exchange for information about you.

It was hard to know who to trust. All your girlfriends seem to be enamored by him, very few are taking your concerns seriously. Those who do suddenly told you to stop talking to them one day... And eventually had to flee the state.

You felt lonely and helpless. You are under surveillance one way or another. God knows how much your brother actually knew about you.

I, the narrator, am god. And I can tell you, it's a LOT. Like a whole fucking lot. He just let some things go undiscussed such as your curiosity about things that makes your brain, heart and pussy go 'BRRR'.

You better be careful on what you consume online.

Back to the subject about your friends, he would often act as a chauffeur for you and them. Driving you all to where ever you guys want to go, be it the Mall, the movies, each other's houses, wherever, whenever. Provided you're sitting in the passenger's seat.

It's humiliating. You had to pay the 'cab fee' by giving him a kiss on the cheek and receiving one on the forehead in return. If he is feeling bold, you'll receive a kiss on the lips and he will claim it as merely a gesture of brotherly love to his darling baby sister. It's hard to pull away because his hand is holding the back of your head in place.

Usually this does incite a sense of fear and "what the fuck", but it's all washed away when big brother distracts them with his charm, money or other bribing tools.

At least he gives you an illusion of privacy when he drives away. Leaving you and your friends "alone" to do whatever teenage girls do.

You know he's lurking around somewhere, watching.

Your friends would have a common topic of finding their siblings annoying and generally pieces of shit. You can't relate at all, but began you wish the relationship between you and your older brother was... Normal. Where he would purposely eat your fries just to spite you, hog your gaming console, call you DickHead Fucker McStupidface and not... endless predatory love bombing.

You sighed. The grass is always greener on the other side.

He made a massive deal out of your 18th birthday. Your big brother threw you the biggest party you have ever attended and invited basically everyone who passed the vibe check. Which includes people you don't know, like his shady work associates, some strangers and existing friends who he thinks are the "best candidates" to be your best friends, the midwife who delivered you for some reason, strangely a few political figures you see on TV and many others.

However, none of the people who he sees as a threat to his relationship with you were invited. Including, but not limited to your parents, obviously the friends/teachers/doctors who thought his kisses and touches on you were weird, anyone who made a lighthearted joke about you that didn't sit well with him...

He rented out a ballroom to throw this colossal party in, along with food catering and entertainment. Your favourite singers, performers and dancers were all present. Your jaw dropped when you met them in person, they're known and loved worldwide and yet here they are standing in front of you, greeting you a sweet 18th.

There is no way he could afford all these without breaking a sweat unless he is secretly a multi-billionaire. Which you think he is, because rich elites and controversial celebrities that you recognized from entrepreneur magazines were invited. Your brother has mannerisms of one too.

You were treated like the fucking president of the world, your brother made sure to let you know you are loved deeply. Everyone loves you, you are full of worth, you deserved to be pampered, etcetera. There wasn't a second where no one's attention is on you, it's stressful to be under so many pairs of eyes, to be the main subject so many hidden opinions.

You are the center of all, the world orbits around you and not the other way round.

You are being recorded, live streamed, remembered and perceived for better or for worse. The spotlight seems too bright and the stage seems too Broad and tall. And it is all yours prance around.

Cheers and praise would fill the hall, but none of them are coherent or genuine to you. Smiles lit up the room but their eyes do not show the same joy, they're here for one thing and one thing only: your brother, his wealth and the immense power he seemingly held.

Despite this bonanza, you have never felt so lonely and unloved in your life. Your big brother bastardized love and affection. This sick display made you nauseous, degraded and obviously upset.

Does your brother think you never noticed the malicious, jealous, lecherous gaze of many? Does he think you're deaf enough not to hear the occasional whisper thinking that you're a good for nothing spoiled brat who spreads her whore legs for her big brother? Did he miss the conversations where they're discussing about using you as leverage against your brother? What about the tightening of balled fists whenever you're mentioned?

This party only shows that everyone is out there to get you, to witness your downfall, to see you fail and drown.

You bolted to the bathroom and into a stall, your only sanctuary at the moment.

You threw up, sobbed and trembled. Luckily you had your $15 burner phone hidden in your puffy ball gown dress, one of the very, very few things your brother doesn't know about.

You called your mom and cried, asking her to pick you up because you're scared, tired and angry at your brother. Your dad also got into the phonecall and agreed to get you the fuck out of there.

You didn't have glamourous makeup streaking down your face because you refused to have your makeup done the way your brother wanted it to. He said it's either his way or no makeup at all. You chose the latter to at least feel like you had some autonomy over yourself.

He made you wear some basic makeup anyways. But nothing too dramatic.

You stifled your sobs when you heard a door open. A feminine voice called out for you.

You gave no reply and waited.

She said your brother is looking for you.

Feeling your blood boil, you told her to tell your brother to fuck off.

She muttered an apology before scuttling out. Soon enough, she came back. This time, she slid a notebook between the door gap with something scrawled onto it.

" What's wrong? Are you feeling ill? Please come out :( I love you "

No doubt, it's your brother's handwriting. You crumpled it and threw it into the waste bin nearby.

You told her to leave you alone. She left without a word.

Half an hour later, someone else enters the bathroom. You opened your mouth, about to begin spewing insults about your brother.

Only to be met with the voice of your mom calling out for you.

You rushed out of your hiding place and found yourself in the arms of your mother. You clutched her shirt and cried hard, you didn't want this. You wanted to spend your 18th birthday with people of your choice, your liking. Not total strangers and a creep of a brother.

You begged your mom to get you out of here. She consoled you, saying that your big brother is worried and waiting for you outside the restroom.

You said you didn't want to see him. You wanted to go home and hide in your sheets, away from the blinding spotlight.

It puts her in a tough position. He wouldn't believe her if she said you didn't want to see him. She knows her son would maliciously take a dig into her insecurities again and break her heart for the millionth time.

So she just dragged you out of there, attempt to scurry past your big brother and avoiding his wrath. Not a surprise, he stopped the both of you.

Your mother decided to sacrifice you to the monster by letting you go. To save herself from getting hurt both emotionally and physically, though she did receive a scowl from him.

He is unbelievably tall. Your big brother still needed to crouch to get to your level, you were crying, rubbing the tears away with the hilt of your palm.

What's wrong? He cooed lovingly. His eyes were softened and his eyebrows were knitted in concern. He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away with his thumb. Your big brother massaged the back and base of your neck as you are forced to calm down.

His hands trailed down to your arms, gently rubbing them up and down and fixing the sleeves of your fairytale-like dress. He peppered kisses all over your face, whispering sweet nothings to soothe you. Saying that you his one and only baby sister no matter how old you are, he won't ever leave you. Your big brother loves you to the moon and back, it hurts him to see you upset like this on one of the biggest birthday of your life.

Finally, engulfing you into a secure embrace. Rubbing circles on your back.

And it works. It genuinely calmed you down. This technique brought you back to a time where everything seems to be simple. Where it's just playtimes with big brother and cuddling. No concept of social status, no eerie weirdness, no need for reading between lines, just peace.

For the rest of the night, you're in his lap. His arms securely wrapped around you as he amicably chat with the attendees. You're Tiredly resting while aimlessly staring at different points of interest. It could be the delicious food, it could be the performers, it could even be one of the guests uncomfortably staring at you.

You absentmindedly played with his tie as you rest your head against his chest. Your older brother won once again, managed to manipulate you into thinking he is a safe space whereas the true safe space is home, away from this man.

It gets weird WEIRD after your 18th birthday. His hands begin to creep up your thigh at times, you would have to slap it away. His strokes somehow felt a lot more sensual. His hand would rest on the small of your back whenever the both of you are out. You don't know how it was possible, but your big brother became even more handsy on you.

Yeah, his hand massages are nice. But was it necessary for him to linger his lips on your knuckles while he gives you bedroom eyes?

He got a whole lot more possessive too, actively telling every male he comes across with you that you're "off the market". You would call him out for it but he is still insisting that you are "unavailable" to date.

You feel like he doesn't call you by your name anymore, it's all pet names. Including this one nickname which is embarrassingly sappy.

He doesn't correct anyone if they think the both of you are a couple, not even hinting at the true nature of your relationship. He would frown if you do, though. When quizzed about his reaction, he would simply just dismiss it as nothing important.

He would heavily protest against the idea of you working for money (He isn't as opposed if it's your dream job, though.). But, he isn't against the idea of you "working for him". You didn't feel like sticking around to find out what the job description is.

Your parents are pretty much punching bags for him, your big brother's increased possessiveness means intense beat downs and verbal abuse on the daily. It got so bad that your dad was fighting for his life on the hospital bed as he filed for a restraining order against your big brother. They still wouldn't want to press charges or report him to the police at all.

Imagine the Judge's face seeing your mummified father in court, only getting a restraining order against the person who did it and not... a jail term. Your brother did not once show any remorse, it was just blank stares at everyone else except you. He would smile and draw a heart in the air, which absolutely creepy to people who witnessed it.

Other than that, he still treats you like a kid. He would offer to do anything and everything for you, especially your chores. He would still get food for you at parties, get you cups of your favorite drink and spoon feed you if you're not paying attention. He would still wipe the sleep out from your eyes and wipe your face clean with fresh towels.

He would pay for all your expenses without complaint. Well, almost without complaint. He would whine about you not spending enough time with him while he's paying for your college. Saying that he doesn't have to and he is bringing these burden upon himself is the best way to shut him up or reduce him into a blubbering mess, frantically assuring that you are the best thing that ever happened to him and you are not at all a nuisance.

For 18 years, you have never initiated a conversation discussing about his feelings for you, it would get awkward or messy and you knew it. Your parents weren't perfect either, they did not pay attention until only recently. Letting this sick infatuation fester and escalate.

Due to the restraining order, your brother can't visit you at your parents' home. But he can visit you at your college which sucks. Literally everyone recognizes him as your boyfriend because the way he greets you with a warm hug and a kiss. Not to mention, the gifts you would receive that are typically given by lovers.

Also, as a birthday gift, your brother bought you a fucking house. In a suburban neighborhood. One condition: it is under your brother's name, so it is technically still his, so you would have to live with him. Of course you rejected it which made him use every trick in the book to guilt trip you or lure you in.

You stood firm and said no despite how guilty he made you feel or knowing how luxurious your life would be if you accepted. He went quiet for a while before smiling, ominously stating that you're always welcome to come and live with him in "your" house no matter what. He was so sure that you would eventually come around and give into him.

Despite it all... No doubt, you still love your fucked up brother. He was always there for you regardless of circumstance, so you can't bring yourself to get a restraining order against him. You prefer using more "peaceful" methods to distract him from you such as using your vast amounts of pocket money to hire someone to pursue him romantically.

Even the people who you hired was off put by how his interests are only about you.

In the end, you said "scratch that" and paid someone to befriend him to get a deeper insight about the nature of his "brotherly love". It was hard to evade his notice, but with enough time, precision, money and luck, you managed to keep these under wraps.

You paid to set up a fake scenario for your agent and your big brother to meet. It starts off with you mentioning that you're really craving for some bread or pastry from a specific bakery that sells out pretty quickly. You told him that as he is driving you to college.

You put up a convincing act that you really, really, really wanted one today, repeating it multiple times. Your brother, being the doting man he is, promised that he will get you one by lunch.

You cringe as he rests his hand on your thigh, but made no move to push it away as he rubs it up and down.

So you went on with your day, trying not to think about how he gently grabbed your chin and kissed you in front of your friends before driving away.

Seems mundane, but the thing is, your hired spy has already bought the last two. The bakers were also in on this operation.

Your big brother panicked as he found out that it's all sold out and he will break a promise with you. He tried asking the employees if they could bake at least one now just for you, he would pay extra.

It is notable that he refered to you as "my baby".

They obviously declined. They were sympathetic, however he was still told to come back earlier tomorrow.

Then, that is where your hired help would swoop in and save the day.

Out of the kindness of your spy's heart, he offered your brother one of the pastries. Your brother was grateful, according to your spy. He shook his hand and offered to pay, your spy declined per your instruction and said he understand how shitty it is to disappoint our loved ones.

From there, a friendship blossomed between your intel and your brother due to common (fabricated) experiences.

Your brother never specified or confirmed what the relationship between you and him was. If your spy didn't know all the details, he would have thought you were his dearly beloved wife.

It went on for a while, but it kind of worked. His friend took at least 5 minutes of your big brother's attention away daily. Giving you at least 5 minutes to fucking breathe.

Your spy did tell you that its a bit... Actually VERY mentally taxing to hang out with him. All your brother talks about is you, your interest, your cute little quirks and habits, your personality... Sometimes the conversations were sprinkled in with curious questions about your spy's fictional loved one or life story.

Big brother STILL haven't deny or corrected anything even though when your spy outright verbally assumed that you are your brother's spouse.

Your spy said it was hard to sit there and listen to him speak about you as if you were his lover, his child and a toddler all at the same time. They're all overlapping and it's undeniably fucking creepy.

[honoura]

disclaimer: this spawned off a twitter thread i made a while back, which itself came from something i’d noticed time and again within the xiv community: the idea that photography isn’t possible there. i’ve seen this a few times, and ultimately what i felt to be the truer statement is that digital photography as we know it in our phones, no. that is not a very accessible thing. most eorzeans aren’t getting a garland ironworks tomephone.

but that doesn’t mean they aren’t taking pictures.

A Case for Eorzean Photography

In the case of our modern world, the art of capturing an image onto paper directly from life dates back to the 1820s. It was called heliography. A wikipedia article on it can be found here. Heliography came about because its inventor wished for an efficient way to reproduce lithographs, engravings, and relief prints, three different illustration styles that had existed by now for varying lengths of time, but all still in use and being the choice method for adding images to text. I’m going to give a short bit of information on each style, because they are also very likely quite prevalent.

Woodcut (Relief)

Woodcut is as its name implies -- you carve your image into a block of wood, coat the raised portions with ink, and then use it in the press. Accessible to learn, accessible to do, if you want rp flavor there’s likely illustrators in every city-state employing this for the newspapers or illustrated editions of books.

Intaglio (Engraving)

Intaglio is my favorite printmaking method for illustrations, and probably also my favorite for FF14 because it involves playing with chemicals! Let’s get the alchemist roleplayers we know something cool to do. Anyway, with intaglio you’re using acid to burn an image into a metal plate, and the deeper the etchings the darker the shadows. Great for values, great for depth, and have I mentioned you’re just being a little scientist and an artist at the same time?

Lithography

Lithography is the one you’ve seen the most, even if you aren’t 100% sure how it works. It became very popular in the late 19th and early 20th century -- if you’ve ever gawked at vintage illustrations by Mucha or Leyendecker, those are lithographs! Some of the big plates used for them are just big rocks! Miners could 100% mine up limestone slabs for this.

Anyway, back to photographs. After heliographs cracked the capture nut suddenly everyone was getting in on it. People were mixing all kinds of chemicals to capture the world as it was at a moment onto a plate of glass (or others! they liked silver too).

Physautotypes used lavender oil as its photosensitive agent. Tree resin was also popular. Both things botanists would routinely be able to harvest and crafters able to distill. I can only imagine how it smelled to make photographs with this, I hope it was nice!

About 20 years after the earliest heliograph came daguerrotypes. Made on silver plates with a copper substrate, daguerrotypes were pricy but popular -- and they had their own special camera made rather than using a camera obscura.

Daguerrotypes were also when spirit photography came into prominence.

Ambrotypes came on the heels of daguerrotypes as a cheaper alternative made with less costly materials, and was followed by their even cheaper brethren the tintypes. Bit by bit, photographs were becoming more accessible -- not always the equipment (or the supplies), but in terms of a person or group of people having a portrait made you were starting to see that become more common.

Ambrotype above, tintype below

Let it be said also that less costly materials does not mean lower quality image -- each method had its own charm. Tintypes were sturdier than ambrotypes, but both developed quicker than daguerrotypes. Ambrotypes could also have spot colors added to them!  

Albumen prints made it to paper, and until we went digital that’s where photographs stayed, on paper! And one of their key binding materials was made from eggs, beautifully common eggs.

So Where Does This Leave Eorzea?

So why did I go into this much detail, with visual examples and links to references that include their materials? Because all these materials exist already within FFXIV. Glass, plates, the types of metals used, the types of chemicals.

They’re part of crafting logs, and gathering leves, and dungeon drops. Alchemists can make these chemical components, goldsmith quests have you making lenses and other more delicate mechanisms, carpenters could easily build boxes for camera obscura (and cameras!).

Different styles of photography and different materials used for them reflect availability of the materials -- where does this character live, what are their cultural beliefs, do they travel much outside of their home region? How much money do they have?

What if using unaspected crystals creates a different effect on the plate? With the right kind of aetherial charge, don’t you think you could photograph ghosts in actuality rather than trickery? There’s a whole quest in 1.0 where an NPC sees the ghost of the city of Sil’dih -- a ghost city!

At any rate, I just think it’s neat to look at what materials exist in this game, and how things from this world may translate to that with the understanding it will not be 21st century. We have a lot of technology that’s existed longer than we sometimes recall or acknowledge -- and it’s good material! Use that stuff! Have fun with it!

[yurmomsawh0r]

Mᴜᴛᴇ// 18+ MDNI!!!

Warnings: Physical Abuse, violence, murder, P in V intercourse, Oral (m. Receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, exhibition if you squint, cervix kissing, afab! Mute reader! [Reader suffers from ptsd] Mental abuse. Infidelity

Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Megumi, Daisuke, Iwaizumi, Uzui, Tanjiro, Levi, Muzan, Itachi, Kaneki, Seshomaru, Ban, Hak,

This is my first drabble on here so please bear with me! I also take request!

Part 1, part 2, part 3

°

It wasn't always like this. You weren't always like this. You were a happy young woman - always able to see the light in everyone. Even in those who tried so hard to snuff the light out of you.

When you met your husband, everything was perfect. The late nights cuddling and watching your favorite movies. The everyday video calls when he went out on lunch. Even the surprise gifts he would send to you when you were working or out visiting a long time friend. He was just everything you had hoped for in a man.

But that all stopped once he felt that you weren't worth the trouble. His precious cheating wife. How could he had been so foolish to fall for your innocent looks and timid nature. Well that's what he said to you when he confronted you about your infidelity. Confusion barely had time to to strike you before he did.

The blows be landed on you were something so cruel and vicious - like be bad intentions to actually hurt you; punish you.

And all for what? Because he found messages between you and a party planner. You see, you wanted to throw him a grand party, secretly of course, but your husband had took it the wrong way. He thought you had betrayed him, lied to him, cheated on him.

So he took measures into his own hands. And with those hands came pain.

He pulled strands from your scalp. Bruised your eyes, bloodied your nose and cracked a few bones in the process. One of the most traumatic experience you've ever had all caused by the man you had once loved and adored.

You tried to leave - a divorce as soon as possible, but that only made it worse. "You think you get to fuck around on me, and then LEAVE!!?" You remember the second time he beat you so badly. This one was worse than the first.

It caused you to lose the one thing that could possibly help you.

Your voice..

No amount of therapy, medication or doctor visits would bring it back. With the Ptsd you suffered, it was triggering to even open your mouth to do simple task. Talking, laughing, moaning.

It was all dead. Just as you were on the inside.

- 2 years later -

You sat there silently. It had been a few hours since your husband and his guest had been chatting. You weren't really paying attention to what was being said. All that you knew, was that things were getting heated between the two. You hadn't gotten a good glance at him. To afraid it would cause another altercation between you and your husband.

The man on the other end of the table sat calmly, puffing on his cigar as your husband went on a rant about how his product was too pricy for its apparent "quality." In all reality, you knew your husband was full of shit. He just didn't want to pay what he owed. He also didn't want to tell him thag he had been the one using all the product for himself.

You felt eyes linger on you, but you kept your head down, trying to make yourself smaller than you already were. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing here with a man like him?"

The mans powerful voice boomed throughout the conference room causing you to flinch from its vibrations through your body.

Your husband scoffed but stayed silent. As if daring you to even raise your head towards his supplier. When you didn't, he felt a little triumphant. At least she was good for some things.

He knew he was the little man in the room compared to the calm, cool and collected man across from him, but this was his house and that was his wife. To your husband, he was the big man.

"Where's my money Dan." You and your husband flinched from the deep octaves in his voice. The room soon filled with his deep penatrating voice and domineering demeanor.

"L-look, I d-dont think your product is worth the price your dishing out-" He tried again with this argument. "I will give you 150k for what it's worth."

It's not that he thought it was worth less than he made it seem. You knew what the real reason was. He was growing broke. His business going to shit all because he couldn't keep his nose out of the powder. On top of that he owed many other powerful men and companies money. The drugs were turning him into a real monster.

And who was there to take his mind off of things.

You.

Deep chuckles broke out from the man's chest. He pulled another drag from his cigar before putting it out on the ten thousand dollar oak table.

Dan loved this table.

"I can see the drugs are getting to you Dan. My drugs Dan. You know damn well my supply is well over 150k. More like half a million. Your interest keeps adding up. How long before you have nothing but your life."

Dan gulped. The weight of his actions now setting in.

"Soon you won't even have that."

The threat he had laid down on the table was clear as day. This path Dan was going down was going to lead him to knock on deaths door.

And what had this meant for you? Would you die as well, or would you just rot on the streets of New York?

"I'll make you a deal Dan." Silence befell the room. As if they were having a silent battle between each other.

Your head was still down, looking at your reflection through the polished oak. It was blurry but, you could still make out certain features.

A scoff rang through the air before more words fell from Dan's lips.

"What? Her? She's fucking worthless." He spit towards you. His words making you flinch. "If she's so worthless, let her go. Give her to me."

Fear clenched your heart thinking about all the possible reasons - especially about the reason why the calm and mysterious man wanted you. You shook at the thought of him hurting you just as bad as Dan. Possibly even worse than what you imagined. "You give her to me, and we can call this even.'

Silence ensured the room again.

He wouldn't really give you up like that? . . . Would he? You know your husband hasn't been the best one but, he still saw you as a human being. . . Right?

You hoped with all your heart that your husband still had a shred of love for you deep down in his black heart, but in the back of your head you know there wasn't any type of love. Only pain and sorrow lingered there.

The world stopped beating once the words left his lips. Leaving you in an even colder world than before.

"Take her."

[insult-2-injury]

The Politics of Power - Chapter 3

Modern AU - Prof!Silco x GradStudentReader

The enigmatic Professor Silco takes you in as his student assistant. It's only one semester, just how hard could it be?

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | AO3 Link |

3.8k | Reader Insert | Eventual Smut | Slow Burn | Romance | Student/Teacher Relationship

Header by the wonderfully talented @pomegranatebat :)

Chapter 3

It had been three weeks.

You knew going in that the semester would be taxing, Professor Silco’s busy work in addition to your already immoderate classwork a challenge in itself.

You graded essays, tests, managed to teach a couple of his classes, met with students; everything you’d agreed to do over your numerous email correspondences and had been reaffirmed of on that first day.

You had been right, he was cantankerous; not old in age as much as old in manner, the stubborn refusal to adapt fully to the digital era spelled out in the piles of papers he laid on your desk each day to be graded by hand. The man owned a pricy laptop and was perfectly competent, could no doubt figure out how to move online if he so desired. He just didn’t want to.

It was who he was, you realized. A man who rejected change as if his very sanity depended on bowling through every expectation of him, flush with some rare sort of fire-eyed determination. Looked all the more as if he would burn the world over twice if it meant proving he was right.

And to the utmost misfortune of all those around him, he usually was.

Strange how you’d found you couldn’t get enough of it - something deliciously irate clawing wildly across the heated lining of your belly whenever that intelligence of his showed face. Whenever that tiny, sinister curl of his lips betrayed him, warning of an incoming putdown.

And he loved to put people in their place.

He rarely struck first but always had people marked, you’d noticed; was a cobra coiled delicately in the brush, waiting for his target to circle too close before he skewered into the only patch of exposed skin with precision and speed.

You he seemed to enjoy messing with most of all. You were certain, too, with your impregnable intuition that it had something, if not everything, to do with Vander. And if Vander and him were on the outs, then there was a chance he didn’t believe Vander wrote that glowing recommendation letter for you. So why had he hired you?

Not only that, but it was also the atypical errands you were running in conjunction with the usual work that had you speculating on whether or not he was punishing you, issuing you pointless tasks to waste what little time you had to yourself.

Once he’d had you pick up books for him at the library, a pain as the building was on the opposite side of campus. He had barely looked up when you’d piled them at the corner of his office desk, and you’d watched from your nook in the corner as they sat untouched, gathering a thin layer of dust before he bid you return them, unread. He’d had you draw out a lesson plan in detail only to scrap it last minute. Not to mention the two times he’d sent you down to the mail room to retrieve some expected parcel and you’d return empty-handed and sour, and he would chalk it up to simple oversight.

“Oh, don’t look so cross. I must have already grabbed it today, scatterbrained as I am. Simple mistake.”

But Professor Silco didn’t make mistakes.

Such small things were just innocent enough to pass over the head of a general observer, or perhaps to ascribe to a bout of forgetfulness. But out of a childhood of quiet instability grew a strong intuition, and you caught onto his scent quick.

It was late Friday, nearing the time that he’d normally force you to pack up, send you home for the weekend with a clipped word or two and a curt nod of his head. Your frustration felt a living, breathing thing today, prowling back and forth across your chest like a snarling tiger in captivity. A stack of ungraded essays sat before you, but it was hardly what you were focusing on.

Casual Friday. He wore a crisp black linen shirt, fitted snugly to his wiry frame, buttons fastened to the very top, only a slice of collarbone showing. The gold-cuffed sleeves were rolled up to his forearms as he worked. He wore pants of the same color; tailored herringbone trousers cut off just above the ankle, held at his waist by a black belt with a large, gold buckle. Glossy wingtip oxfords adorned his feet, which were crossed at the ankles.

His gaze darted up from above the hard brim of his glasses to snare your own and you stiffened, hotblooded embarrassment blooming in your chest as you swiftly looked away, hair falling blessedly to cover your expression.

It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d been caught.

Maddeningly, you’d found you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off him for more than a few minutes, your gaze tracking unwittingly upward like clockwork, as if you and your fixation were attached to some sort of hypnotic pulley system.

Your phone buzzed and you hesitated before opening a text from your mom.

No hello. No how are you. Just a link guiding you to the University of Piltover’s Law School and a text.

Never too late to be a Piltie :)

Involuntarily, your hand clutched around the phone.

You felt the familiar sting, despite knowing there would be no payoff in attempting to please a mother who had never been satisfied with anything in her life. You could do just as she said: attend law school, become an affluent lawyer, but it still wouldn’t be enough. She would want you to be better. And there was always something better.

A prickling awareness hoisted you up from your internal strife and back into reality, your eyes ticking up from the pile of ungraded essays.

How could one ever get used to the shock of meeting that mismatched gaze? Invisible fingers gripped a tight fist of your lower abdomen.

“Yes?”

“You’re tapping your pen.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d scolded you on the matter – your aggravating little habits. Tapping your nails, bouncing your knee, chewing on your pen. Jitters only heightened by the presence of the other occupant of the room.

You turned back around, silent, unapologetic. Another minute passed.

“You’re drumming your nails.”

You hummed the affirmative.

“What has you distressed?”

“I’m not distressed.”

“You’re vibrating.”

“I’m breathing,” you said, becoming mildly annoyed by his persistence. You rolled your shoulders back. “Must have made the coffee strong today or something.”

The following long pause had your gaze flicking up once again to meet his narrowing one.

“So it was you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the brute who wreaked havoc in the break room this morning?”

You blinked.

“If by ‘wreaking havoc’ you mean I made coffee, then yes.”

Professor Silco exhaled, falling back into the soft plush of his desk chair, fingers propping at his temple, as if he’d been thoroughly defeated, teal eye fluttering closed briefly.

“There I was wishing on the culprit an untimely demise,” he sighed, “And it was my own TA.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You do realize coffee is supposed to be a liquid, yes?”

“No one else seemed to have a problem with it,” you defended, but he remained unbothered, plucking the wire, rectangular frames off his face and taking his precious time searching the drawer beside for a cloth to clean them with.

“That’s because no one else was permitted the misfortune of tasting it after me.”

“You tossed the coffee I made for everyone?”

Professor Silco regarded you impassively beneath hooded lids, fingers languidly stroking the glass.

“And no doubt saved lives in the process.”

You scowled. “I’m not a barista.”

He adjusted the readers back on the bridge of his nose. “And thank goodness for that. Keep trying and you’ll make me a hero yet.”

There was something darkly amused twinkling in his eyes as he observed the annoyance tugging at the creases of your lips. But instead of allowing the moment to fade, he held it tight, and for each passing second, something pulled tauter between you as your own focus strayed, trailing to the long index finger ticking a light rhythm against his lower jaw.

Vander would be so disappointed in the way you held your tongue. Or would he? The man was a walking contradiction when it came to these things.

He loved to chant things like “Fortune favors the bold,” but the moment you dared shed that cloak of reticence and put a voice to that little flame in the pit of your stomach, you’d receive a look quite puzzling to you - one you thought spoke of an almost haunting, fearful recognition, as if for a blink of an eye he saw a ghost.

So, you just needed to keep your lid on and respect Vander for all he was - a brilliant professor and a good man, yet short-sighted.

Professor Silco shifted in his seat, crossing his legs. You thought, if it were possible, you could reach out and strum that humming connection in the air between the two of you.

You broke first, turning back to the subpar at best essay you’d been grading about the politics of warfare. And as the tension died, your thoughts drifted back to your mother.

Why couldn’t you be enough --No. You couldn’t afford to think that way. How could you ever be enough for a mother whose idea of success was an archaic set of rules, so rigid and stale, impossible to achieve.

You gnawed at the top of your pen as you stared out at the spined ridge of the Humanities building, etched with an eerie beauty against the backdrop of dusk.

Vander had so wanted you to follow in his sizeable footsteps; to mentor under him, become his little understudy. Take up that golden baton with his stamped seal of approval and climb the tallest mountain with it. He was trying. He knew where you came from. But he had his own visions for you and it was starting to feel like everyone had a pretty solid idea as to who you should be except for you.

“Do you plan on finishing tonight?” Professor Silco asked. “Or will I be forced to stay late once more on account of your musing.”

Your nose twitched in irritation as you stared out the window, contemplative before turning to him, the haughty way in which he regarded you down his nose enough to make your decision.

“Sorry, sir,” you said evenly, “I’ll be finished shortly.”

You got to work and didn’t look up until you were finished, until you’d offered nearly every student an extremely generous A.

Whatever game he was playing - if he wanted to clash at every turn, so be it.

~~~

The following Monday, you sat at your first department meeting staring so intently at the bulleted agenda in front of you that the dots began to blur together. You’d already given your little introduction speech, sighing internally when one of the more chipper professors insisted you simplify your existence down to your favorite extracurriculars and your favorite dessert.

Your gaze rose, the pen dangling in your fingers finding an absentminded home between your teeth as you watched Professor Silco lead the meeting, admiring his prowess. He wasn’t the type to open up the room, wasn’t a fan of your more Laissez-Faire approach of things.

No, he’d taken brutal hostage of the space as soon as he’d entered it, just as he always did in the classroom, a subtle but palpable hush falling as he’d prowled in like a lion on the hunt, lanky and unhurried, carrying with him a briefcase and a chilled breeze in his wake. He was in complete control at any given moment, his shoulders so taut it seemed a gale force wind couldn’t shake him. Cutting and often dismissive, but with a peculiar stroke of charisma and unmistakable competence that oddly softened the blow of his incivility.

He liked, no needed to be at the helm, that much was a given. He was stingy with his praise but positively reinforced just enough to make those below him covet those rare moments of graciousness. He was a master, a savant at wielding power to its highest effect.

And you couldn’t get enough of it, the thought of that vie for dominance sending a shock of heat slithering between your legs.

Only when he caught your eye did you realize the bite force you were impressing upon the poor pen in your mouth and you let up, tongue poking out distractedly against the top, expecting his gaze to float on. But it hung there for a moment too long, dropping to your lips almost imperceptibly before flickering away and immediately stealing another glance as he continued to speak, never breaking.

That terrible pull you felt to him - did he feel it, too?

Something dark and impulsive sunk its claws into your animal brain and delicately you pressed your lips to the side of the pen, almost as if in thought. His gaze immediately found your lips again and with a careful inexpression, you darted your tongue out lightning quick, licking a short stripe upward. Your thighs clenched just as his jaw did. And you wondered if you were the only one who heard that slight waver in his tone.

You whipped your head back to the paper in front of you, feeling dizzy suddenly as he started to close out the meeting, but the chime of your name had you jolting to attention minutes later. You stared wide-eyed at Professor Silco.

“I know you requested floor time at the end.”

You most certainly had not. You froze as chairs creaked and the full attention of the room turned upon you.

“Me?” you said stupidly, feeling a blush track across your cheeks. He allowed the moronic question to marinate in the hushed room.

“I just-“ you said, mind frantically throwing out nets to gather your wits. “Yes. I just wanted to say…” Professor Silco’s lip jerked cruelly. “Sorry- sorry, I’m not quite used to being on this side of things yet.” There was murmured laughter and you plastered what you hoped was a sheepish grin on your face. “All I wanted to say was thank you for allowing me to join you this semester. And Professor Silco,” you motioned to him, “I really appreciate the time you’ve taken thus far to accommodate me. I’m more than excited to work alongside every one of you. Thank you.”

What a load of crock, and you couldn’t appear more of a bootlicker if you tried, but it seemed to elicit a positive response.

Everybody filtering out slowly, Professor Silco scrutinized you quietly from the head of the table as you packed up, like you were some rare creature yet to be captured and studied. You stumbled in your haste to the door; grateful he didn’t call you back.

~~~

Fuck.

That had been so reckless to tempt the hands of fate like that. It was hardly anything, what you’d done; he could just as easily have not seen it at all, that brazen little tongue flick, his reaction just a making of your own imagination. And if he had seen it, well, it was nothing more than another one of your silly habits, chewing pens. But oh, had you felt it, and the feeling lingered yet, the dizzying headiness of that second glance, the tight, telling clench of his jaw.

You wanted to toy with that slice of power - couldn’t stop thinking about the way he commanded the room, how his fingers danced through the air like leaves on a breeze. His snakelike retaliation, your forced counterattack.

It had you squirming in your tiny office hours chair that day, the ache between your legs pulsing and persistent, no students showing face to offer any semblance of a distraction. Probably your own fault, tossing all those A’s out like free candy.

Office hours came to an end and you sat for a while longer, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm into the dappled desk as you contemplated.

How were you going to manage for an entire semester?

By dealing with it, sweaty and shamefaced in the privacy of your own apartment, that was how. Sighing, you made your way out of your office and down the hallway to Professor Silco’s.

Entering quietly, you hardly spared him a glance, taking a seat at your little desk and reaching for your paper tray, hand stilling when you found it empty.

“I’d hazard you’re looking for these,” Professor Silco said, lazily lifting the stack of ungraded essays. You swallowed the dryness from your throat before turning politely, fingers clasping in your lap to calm the nervous bounce of your leg. “I can give them to you.” He stood, grabbing the separate graded pile you’d laid on his desk last Friday in the other hand, giving you a pointed look. “Granted we brush up on the rubric again.”

A lazy saunter toward you might as well have been a sudden dead sprint with the paralyzing alarm you felt as he neared. A tall shadow fell across your seat and you became keenly aware of just how damp the fabric between your thighs really was and you crossed your legs, face heating as if you’d been entirely on display.

“I fear, despite our numerous correspondences predating your arrival here, you’ve already stopped pulling your fair share.” Your hands grew clammy, heart a clanging steel drum. “Did you not read these at all or have you always been so charitable?” You craned your neck up at him, hands dropping to frame the outsides of your thighs, mooring yourself. His eyebrow quirked. “A’s for everyone.”

“Not all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. The long-winded atonement essay apologizing for not having had the time to complete said essay you gave a B+.”

Your eyes darted between his, trying to get a read. “I thought they all did a decent job.”

“Lies.” You opened your mouth in retort. “And I think you know that,” he purred and you nearly pitched forward from the shiver that danced coolly down your spine. “How is anyone supposed to hone their critical thinking skills when they’re rewarded for such drivel.”

“It was the first essay of the semester.”

“So you were doing them a favor?” You pressed your lips together. “Did you even read these?” He tossed both stacks of papers onto your desk.

“Yes.”

“I know. I saw.”

You studied him carefully. Then why accost you? “I’ll do better,” you murmured, gingerly taking the stack of papers.

“Speak up,” he commanded with a sharp tone, and you shot him a vicious glare.

“I hope you’re not cross with me,” you said before you could put a halt to your rashness, rearranging his own words steadily back to him, “Scatterbrained as I am, simple mistake.”

The irate furrow of his brow contradicted the tilt of his scarred lips, and for just a blink of a moment he looked terribly wicked as his features darkened.

His voice grew deceptively quiet. “I believe you dropped something earlier.”

He reached into his pants pocket and your eyes widened as he revealed the pen. You must have dropped it in your haste to leave earlier. Unwarranted confidence cracking, you went to go snatch it from his hands with a muttered thanks but he held tight, stepping forward until the narrowed toes of his oxfords were inches from your boots.

You were stock still, focus falling to the laces of his shoes before dragging back up to meet his shrewd gaze above you, his eyes glittering as bright and sharp as swords. He was so close – close enough you could stretch out your arm to run it across that shining brass buckle.

“Let go,” he coaxed, your tight-knuckled grip loosening on the pen until your hand hovered uselessly in the air. He offered you a tiny smirk of amusement.

“You know your Gods and monsters. Tell me, do you know of Proteus?”

Your free hand dropped to dig its fingers into your knee. Old man of the sea. Yes, yes of course you did, but you couldn’t free the words from your throat, trying in vain to speak as your jaw worked. You nearly choked when the pen in his hand found a starting point at the hinge of your jaw before dragging down the soft curve, descending beneath your chin to lever it upward in a slow nod.

“Smart girl, of course you do.”

A sharp burst of an exhale at the unexpected praise and he slid the pen across the smooth, sensitive curve of your jawbone – up to tickle beneath your earlobe then down to the point of your chin, swapping sides.

“Proteus’ power came from his ability to change shape at will, to be precisely what a moment required him to be. He knew all – past, present, future. The answers to life’s most poignant questions. Yet he answered to no one. Why is that?”

The capped pen traveled upward to settle briefly into the divot between your chin and bottom lip as he waited patiently for an answer, regarding you as a hawk would a mouse in the grass.

You worked your jaw, waiting for your throat to unstick before you spoke. “You had to capture him first.”

He hummed approvingly. “A difficult conquest. Whenever anyone would attempt to seize him, he could simply change form. Lion, butterfly, a serpent, he could become water to elude grasp. He was wise – knew which form to take in order to fool.”

You gazed up at him, utterly lost within the low timbre of his voice, every satin word slithering down to the growing, aching wetness between your thighs.

“Unless," he continued, "As you said, you captured him. Held him fast.” Your eyes fluttered as he slid the pen up to move around the border of your lips as he went on, tracing the two mountain peaks of your cupids bow lightly before swooping an arc around the bottom.

“If anyone succeeded, and only one ever did - he’d grant them profound insight, answer any questions they asked of him. Even the simplest of truths.”  The pen slid up to press against the plushness of your lips in the same gesture you’d performed earlier, effectively shushing you.

“Tell me. Who was it that wrote that letter?”

You dug your fingers painfully into your knee, mouth unconsciously parting against the pen as your eyes darted between his, the accusation fully in the open. And you weren't normally one to fight when the tides had turned so clearly against you, but a wicked excitement was growing steadily, a snaking suspicion gaining tread as his eyes glittered dangerously down on you from above. That he was enjoying this little game of yours.

So, with a tiny quirk of your lips, you finally answered.

“Vander.”

<3

Everyone PLEASE go check out this amazing art of Professor Silco that my darling @deny-the-issue did for this fic. I am losing my absolute marbles over it and they are so incredibly talented. Give them all the love! Fellow ratfolk, I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was a grueling one to write so please, if you feel so inclined - reblog, like, leave a comment or some nice tags. It really does mean the world to know people are enjoying.

Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @sherwood-forests and @x-amount-verbs for talking me through my anxieties surrounding this chapter and for the numerous others who put up with my chaos. I love you all so much and couldn't be more grateful for you.

Yours Truly, Sulty

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[yandere-daydreams]

What do you think about phantom thief yandere who likes to collect beautiful things... And their darling is the most beautiful thing they have ever seen

tw - implied kidnapping, dehumanization, mentions of physical abuse, possessive behavior.

they'd been after your engagement ring, initially.

a pricy little number, the band made out of pure gold and the gem some hyper-rare, precious gem made from the petrified blood of those who aren't as affluent as you and your husband-to-be. it's expensive, sure, but it's not worth a fight, so they wait until your fiancé is called away for some all-important business venture on the other side of the world, until you polish off the bottle of wine you've been saving for such an occcasion, until you're splayed over the kitchen island and your ring is left vulnerable, as unprotected as you are. they slip in through a balcony door left unlocked, and they've already got your ring half-off before you start to stir, before you let your head lull to the side and they notice the dark bruises around your neck, the deep scratches washing over your shoulder. Before they think to wonder why there were so many deadbolts on every door, every window, every exit. they don't know what to make of it, so they wait.

they watch, too, perch themself in the parts of your life you pay less mind to. they watch you, almost always in your penthouse, almost always on your own, and your fiancé, so domineering, so controlling, so quick to raise his voice whenever you decide to use yours. it's a shame, really - you're such a lovely thing, soft and sweet, clearly not made to be locked up all on your own. you plead your case, sometimes, when you think you can get away with it, hang on his arm, try to convince him to take you out and show you off, and that's where the bruises come from, the hands around your throat, the nails raked over your back, your thighs, the teeth that bite into anything that stops you from speaking more than any other possession should.

they've always sold their spoils, but they can understand the appeal of a collection, of keeping something to cherish and maintain, to hold close and hold selfishly. you make it so easy for them to want to take you, too, always leaving yourself so exposed, always saying you'd rather be anywhere else, with anyone else. you don't know, yet, but they couldn't agree more.

a prize as beautiful as you deserves a fitting caretaker, and they already know just how they're going to steal you away.

[keelywolfe]

Ficlet: Language Barrier

Summary: Hob always did have a soft heart, whether it was for kittens or anthropomorphic personifications. 

Tags: Established relationship, domestic fluff

Also on AO3

~~*~~

The cement was cold at this time of the morning. Hob didn’t let it bother him and sat on the step anyway, his coffee cup steaming in his hand as he waited more or less patiently for the kitten he’d been after for the past week to come closer.

He’d first seen the little fella through the kitchen window, stalking what might have been a cricket out in the garden. An unremarkable little tabby, too small to be on his own, by Hob’s reckoning, too skinny and grubby. Poor thing was sure to starve or end up dead in the street and Hob’s soft heart wasn’t having it.

Progress was being made. His first offering of tuna had been ignored until he went inside and it could be freely gobbled without witness. A couple days of that, then they'd moved on to the pricy cat food he’d bought being devoured in the middle of the garden while he sat on the steps.

Today, the dish was at the bottom step and Hob sat waiting as the kitten peered out from the shrubbery. He sipped his coffee, trying to appear as nonchalant and unmenacing as a large human could be to a tiny kitten. If he could get the little beggar to trust him a mite, he could get him inside where it was safe from dogs and cars, all the things in the world that were waiting menacingly right around the corner.

“What are you doing?”

It took everything Hob had not to jump out of his skin, and damn certain people for popping in and out of the world whenever they bloody well pleased. Just because Hob couldn’t die from a heart attack didn’t mean he wanted to playact one every other day.

He turned only enough to see Dream, not wanting to make any sudden movements that might scare off the kitten. But not looking simply wasn’t on, not even for kitten appropriation purposes. It still chuffed him too much to see Dream in his house. Especially now, standing in his pale bare feet and those skinny jeans of his, so relaxed and easy here, so different than those first button-up and over starched years.

Besides, Hob wasn’t above admitting he had an appreciation for a well-turned ankle and Dream’s were damn fine.  

“Shhh, don’t scare ‘im,” Hob said, low, tipping his head towards the shrub. “Been feeding him for a week. Poor little guy seems like he’s all alone.”

“Indeed.” Before Hob could protest, Dream crouched and held out a hand. The sound he made, a sort of ‘mrrrph!’ wasn’t one Hob associated with humans, but considering the source, he wasn’t entirely surprised.

More surprising was the kitten immediately vacating the shrubbery to run to him, bypassing even the canned tuna feast to nuzzle Dream’s hand with a contented little meep.

Well, wasn’t that a kick in the pants.

Hob sighed. “Can you at least tell him he can come in the house if he wants? It’s warmer and I’ve a nice soft blanket he can try.”

Dream gently picked up the kitten and let the little brat settle into the curve of his arm. Hob couldn’t be certain, but he thought it might be the both of them purring contentedly. “Stalker of the Wilds says she would be agreeable to that arrangement.”

“Right, then.” Hob gathered up the saucer of food and his coffee and headed in, Dream and the kitten at his heels.

Next time there was a beast living in the wilds of his garden, he’d be sure to bring in the cat whisperer first and save some time. And if he got to listen to Dream speaking in his little kitty voice in the process? Hob would call that a worthy reward for splurging on the good cat treats.

-fin 

[whxre4hange]

aot characters + bubble tea headcanons :D

eren

i can’t really imagine him liking it

he probably stole a few sips from mikasa

secondhand kisses from straws trope :D

“why are there soggy little balls floating in my drink????”

LMAOOOOO IM NOT GONNA MAKE THAT INTO A DIRTY JOKE I SWEAR

mikasa

brown sugar latte + pearls 

also caramel milk tea with pearls

goes for the classic flavours that everyone likes

is vvv safe with her orders, doesn’t choose anything outlandish :D

shares with eren :D

armin

probably chooses drinks that only older asian parents get

always 25% sugar and 25% ice

healthy icon >:D

i would hazard a guess at taro milk tea with pearls as his favourite flavour :D

doesnt drink it often, its probably like a treat type thing

jean

this lanky manchild chooses the most childlish flavours

mango lemon smoothie with popping pearls please! 

the 5 year old kid with the exact same order: O-O

connie

CONNIE IS IN A COMPETITION WITH JEAN: WHO CAN CHOOSE THE MOST CHILDLISH FLAVOUR? FIND OUT IN ATTACK ON BOBA!

sparkling strawberry yakult smoothie with 5 helpings of grape popping balls

shit that sounds really good tho-

marco

the third competitor in the immature boba tea flavour context

and somehow he wins

you know those tiktoks where people only order toppings and nothing else?

thats him

but he gets those toppings

orders a maccas ice cream (if the machine isnt broken)

and he pours the ice cream into the toppings

….and then adds macdonalds nuggets

NOM NOM CRUNCH CRUNCH BIIITCH

no one can tell if he genuinely likes it or if hes just tryna out-gross the bois

sasha

bro boba is pricy af

sasha ain’t paying for it 

(she steals it off connie and jean and marco)

a boba menace !!!!

^ that was my nickname in high school

kidding

or am i? 

has a whole ass notes page in her phone rating all of the different flavours 

ranks them all in the most chaotic way possible

in the end, she’d much prefer a proper meal to boba

but she won’t say no to boba everrr

levi

sike u thought

u think this man would ever TOUCH something that, in his words, were a ‘blasphemy’ to the art of tea? 

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA

but does he steal hanji’s just for a teensy little taste?

yeah

poor levi…

hanji

speaking of which

hanji has made it her personal mission to taste every single flavour of boba

with every single topping combination there is in mankind

boba is a lifestyle, not a drink - hanji 2021

her two favourites are lychee black tea with sakura (cherry blossom) jelly + plum green tea with rainbow jelly and black pearls

she always asks for extra sugar on top of the maximum sugar level

cue sugar-buzzed hanji :D 

erwin

i am so sorry in advance for this

at first i was gonna say smth like ‘oolong jasmine tea with black pearls’

something classic yknow

but i gave it further thought and just

he’s definitely choosing the most outlandish, childlish flavours thatll make any sane person puke

he’s the black horse in the ‘most immature boba flavour’ competition

may i please present erwin’s ‘trademark’: oreo yakult smoothie crush with orange flavoured popping balls?

im gagging as i write it but honestly it sounds like one of my period cravings so…yeah

edit: added historia + ymir 

@p4latinus for reminding me and for coming up with historia’s signature drink!! :)

historia

okay well she definitely has a sweet tooth

i can see her really enjoying the brown sugar/caramel milk teas

the really rich, sugary flavours that only the bravest can stand *dramatic music plays*

her signature drink (inspired by @p4latinus !!) is brown sugar creme brulee, with extra sugar :D

she lowkey has the hugest sugar high after it

bouncing around the room while ymir runs after her 

ymir

absolutely hates bubble tea

get that shit away from her

roses are read, violets are blue, if you give her boba, you’ll end up in it too*

*unless you’re historia

historia came up to ymir once with her signature brown sugar creme brulee with big puppy dog eyes

“CMON YMIR JUST A SIPPPPP”

[insert ray william johnson singing “JUST THE TIPPP”]

anyways

where was i?

ymir growls and grumbles for a few hours

(the drink be gettin stale)

but finally caves cause she is #weak

and also a raging lesbian for historia

ANYWAYS I DIGRESS

she takes the sip and immediately wants to die

why is there so much fucking SUGAR 

was this made by a fricking toddler or smth?

but when she looks at historia’s excited face she forces herself to finish the drink and smile

“Yeah, it’s great...! :D” 

and historia is so happy that ymir likes it that now she  always orders ymir a drink to match with hers

so now ymir is stuck drinking this sugary ass drink at LEAST twice a week

is she gonna say anything bad tho?

no

#ymir and historia forever                           

     >>hope u enjoyed! comment who u want to see in part 2. as always, likes, reblogs and comments are encouraged and appreciated 💌                              

[prsk-krow]

Could you do a platonic!Mizuki x reader where the reader kind of is really upset and then Mizuki tries their best to be there for them and give them affection and kind words? ❤️

{Mizuki comforting upset reader!} [P]

Sorry this took so long!! School was busy these past few days, but now that's it's over I can finally start focusing more on writing! Well, writing and playing sekai, but still!

Unsurprisingly, this seamstress is really good at taking care of others! They have helped the ground a lot, and been an emotional support tons of times for them, so there's really no surprise there.

It's also no surprise that they would be the one who you first tell that you're not feeling too well, and won't be able to do much today! They can tell that you're trying to get them to not worry, and that just makes them worry more!

Mizuki will ask you if you'd like to spend some time to cool off! Their tone and choice of words will be much more careful to let you know that this isn't a prank, or anything of the sort!

It doesn't matter whether you answer yes or no though, they will visit your home with the plan of staying there until you are feeling better! They will just use your response as an indicator of how they should act...

"Heeeeeeeeyy... Ahahaha! God, your surprise face is absolutely priceless! What, you didn't expect me to be here this soon? Or did you not expect anything at all?? Well, no matter! I'm here to ensure that you're not enduring a bad day in silence!"

Usually, Mizuki doesn't like to involve themselves in the problems of others, but that doesn't mean that they will just let them suffer! Sure, they will leave your reasons alone, but they will do their best to make you feel better nonetheless!

They will start out with their silly antics and their teasing tone to put you at ease! They want you to be with a lowered guard before anything, and to that extent they may even attempt to make a fool of themselves... Maybe they 'accidentally' forgot some snacks?

Once your face loosens and your tone is no longer cold, they will sit down next to you and let you describe how you're feeling! They nod as you tell them how upset you are, not at anything in particular, but just in general. They may even take notes... Which also serves to lower your guard if you spot them.

Once they learn that you're simply upset, they will make it their mission to brighten up your day! And the easiest way for them to do that is with a fashion show! You bet they brought a few sets of clothes to learn about your style! Especially if you seemed to be interested in it before...

However, that's not the only thing they have planned! Listening to music online, going shopping, visiting an arcade, surfing through Ena's selfies (You thinking they're kidding when they propose the idea. They are... Sort of.), And so much more! If you ever said or implied that you didn't mind any of these, expect the seamstress to treat you to at least one!

It's almost surprising just how prepared Mizuki is to spend a good time with you! No matter how down you may appear, there's always that one weak point that they will use to lighten up your mood! Whether that may be outdoors or indoors, energetic or chill, pricy or cheap, it's of no concern!

With one exception, that is. Even though they say they would do anything to cheer you up, physical contact is, sadly, out of the question. As shocking as this may be, they're pretty awkward at starting it with the intention of anything except teasing, so it's a no-go. Well, not like it matters much when it's just one way out of many that they can do!

And those options aren't limited to just one either! Get ready for an entire day full of excitement and energy with so many activities that it's sort of as if it were a special day! They do not hold back when comforting a good friend, and you will learn that thoroughly by the end of the day!

"Alright! Now that we've gone shopping, you seemed to eye up that bowling alley down the street! Hehe, you think I wouldn't notice?? You seem to underestimate my observation abilities! Now, let's go already! You don't want to waste any time, right??"

However, that's only if you're actually ok with all of the activities that could fill up a day! The day that they have planned depends purely on your desires and comfort hobbies. They don't mind if you don't have the energy or just don't like the outdoors, you can spend a lazy day together as well!

All in all, it's an extremely enjoyable day for you if Mizuki ever notices that you feel upset or anything of the sort! By the end, you'll probably have forgotten what made you upset, and you'll have positive energy running through you for a long while!