#transformers victory jean

[tea-potato-gt]

Transformers Victory (Manga)✌️🤖

Star Saber being the best giant robo dad to his little human son Jean 🥰🤭

I love how Star Sabor just finds Jean one day and is like: “Guess I’m a dad now” 🤷‍♂️

The anime has a lot of adorable moments between Jean and the rest of the transformers team, but especially with his dad.

Watch the anime here: (only in japanese with english subtitles)

[cranberrytart451]

Today is a good day, and tomorrow will be better.

[jeffhardyjams]

“Against The Ropes” ❦

- jeff hardy x reader

(𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 - 6.0k +)

Description : Y/N joins the Hardy Boyz as a fierce and stylish tag partner against their rivals Edge, Christian, and Lita. With her ever-changing hair and fiery attitude, Y/N quickly catches Jeff Hardy's eye. As enemies turn to lovers, their chemistry ignites both in and out of the ring. After a spectacular victory, Jeff invites Y/N to celebrate with shots at the bar. The night heats up with flirty banter, a steamy makeout session in Jeff's car, and a promise of more to come.

imagine : ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

WWF RAW 4.7.2003

MATCH ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

The locker room was filled with the familiar scent of sweat, adrenaline, and a hint of cheap cologne that wafted in from the corridor. The air was thick with anticipation; tonight was the night Y/N would make her debut as a tag partner for the Hardy Boyz against Edge, Christian, and Lita. It was a big deal, and she was determined to make an impression.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, her hands deftly applying a fresh layer of electric blue dye to her hair, transforming her locks into a vibrant statement piece that matched her bold personality. A smile crept onto her lips as she thought about the night ahead. She wore a fitted black tank top that clung to her frame, paired with ripped jeans that highlighted her form, and combat boots that gave her an air of rebellious confidence.

“Damn, Y/N, you’re going to steal the show,” Lita remarked, walking into the room with a smirk, her own style a perfect blend of edgy and feminine, reminiscent of the wrestlers they both admired.

“Just trying to keep up with you, Lita,” Y/N teased, applying the final touches to her makeup. “But I think I might give Jeff a run for his money tonight too.” Her smile turned mischievous, knowing full well that the Hardy Boy, with his infamous charm and captivating blue eyes, was undeniably attractive. They’d always had a rivalry, woven with tension and playful banter, and tonight felt like it could change everything.

Then footsteps to the locker room, Lita looks over to Y/N and she decides to open the door to —

“Damn, I can't believe you're the one we're teaming with," Jeff Hardy smirked, leaning against the locker room doorframe, his signature colorful hair falling across his forehead. He looked you up and down, his eyes lingering a little longer than necessary. "Do you actually think you can keep up with me and Matt?"

“Oh please. If anyone can keep up with you, it’s me,” you shot back, crossing your arms and tapping your foot defiantly on the cold floor. You had always shared a competitive relationship with Jeff, filled with banter and rivalry—a subtle, unacknowledged attraction simmered below the surface.

Matt, then walked in adjusting his boots, chuckled. “Careful, Jeff. You don’t want to get burned by that fire. She has a point.”

“Whatever, I’d just like to see her try,” Jeff said, a cocky grin spreading across his face. He stepped a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You better not mess up out there; I’m counting on you not to embarrass us.”

“I’d say the same to you, Hardy,” you shot back, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “But I know you have a thing for the spotlight. Just try to keep it together, okay?”

Your eyes met his, a silent challenge passing between you–a spark igniting a familiar tension.

ENEMIES TO COMPANIONS ˚⊱🪷⊰˚

The arena was alive, chants resonating through the air as the preparations for the match grew underway. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as she stepped onto the entrance ramp, greeted by the roaring crowd. The Hardyz’ music blared, and she quickly joined Matt and Jeff in the ring.

“Hey, don't screw this up, alright?” Jeff quipped, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

“Please, if anyone’s going to screw up, it's going to be you,” she shot back, a smirk plastered on her face. There was an undeniable chemistry in their banter, an electric charge that crackled between them, even as rivals.

They fought hard against Edge and Christian, each moment bringing them closer to victory. Y/N, with aerial skills that rivaled the best, leaped from the ropes, executing a flawless moonsault that brought the crowd to its feet. When the referee counted to three, it felt euphoric—she had secured the win.

POST MATCH BUZZ ˚���☆༻*

The adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Y/N rushed backstage, the beats of her entrance music echoing in her ears. As she entered the locker room, she found Jeff leaning against the wall, a grin spread across his face.

“That was fucking incredible,” he said, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “I didn’t expect you to pull that off so seamlessly.”

“Did you doubt me?” Y/N challenged, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. She stepped closer, feeling the closeness intensify the energy around them.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, biting his lip as he searched her eyes. “But I’m impressed. You’re one hell of a fighter.”

Lita walked in, her expression brightening at the sight. “That was fucking great but I’m so done! We should celebrate this win at the bar. How about a few shots?”

“Hell yeah babe.” Y/N replied eagerly, her heart racing as she exchanged mocking glances with Jeff.

GETTING CUTE W LITA ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

Y/N and Lita spent a good chunk of time getting ready for the bar, rummaging through outfits. They opted for something flirtatious yet edgy—short, tight dresses with fishnet sleeves that highlighted their toned bodies, ready to turn heads.

“Let’s ride together,” Lita said, adjusting her top one last time before stepping out of the locker room, her excitement contagious.

“You got it,” Y/N replied, feeling an exhilarating mix of nerves and eagerness as they hopped into Lita’s car, the music blaring through the speakers.

TIME FOR THE BAR ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

As they arrived at the bar, the atmosphere shifted. The dimly lit ambiance paired with the rhythmic beats created an intoxicating energy that matched their buzzing enthusiasm. Y/N quickly spotted Jeff and Matt at the bar, their laid-back demeanor contrasting with the night’s excitement.

“Shots!” Lita called as they approached, earning wide grins from the boys.

“Hell yes,” Y/N cheered, and the night began with laughter and a series of shots that blurred the lines between competition and camaraderie.

POOL & POOLSIDE CHATS ꩜ .ᐟ

After a while, they made their way to the pool tables, engaging in playful matches, the stakes as high as the drinks. Lita leaned against the table, a teasing grin plastered on her face. “Come on, let’s see what you’re made of, Y/N!”

“Just watch and learn,” Y/N replied, confidence dripping from her voice as she made her shot impeccably.

Jeff watched her intently, his interest piqued. “Nice shot. I bet you can’t do that again.”

“Wanna make it interesting? Loser has to buy the next round,” Y/N challenged, her eyes glinting with playful competition.

“Fine, but be prepared to lose,” Jeff countered, stepping closer, his body practically brushing against hers.

The tension between them grew thick as the night wore on, and soon Y/N decided to take a smoke break outside. The night air was cool against her skin, and she leaned against the wall, relishing the moment.

INTO THE NIGHT ♱

Unsurprisingly, Jeff followed her outside, a curious look on his face. “You really needed a smoke after all those shots, huh?” he teased.

“It’s called balance, Jeff. You should try it sometime,” she retorted, taking a slow drag from her cigarette, her gaze playful yet intense.

“I’m fucking with you. You got a light?” he said, peering intently at her, his own body language mirroring the tension.

“Yeah. Of course” she shot back, grabbing a lighter from her purse. She lit the cigarette as the flame rose on Jeff’s face. Her smile flirtatious and inviting, the air thick with unspoken words.

“Let’s talk in the car,” he suggested, and a rush of anticipation shot through her.

THE CAR CONFESSION ☆

As they reached Jeff’s car, the mood shifted from playful to intimate. He dared to open the door for her, a gentlemanly act that made her heart flutter—the bold one was always the hardest to resist.

Once inside, an electric silence enveloped them. Jeff looked at her, his gaze devouring every detail of her face. “You’ve changed a lot since the last time we went head-to-head,” he murmured, evident intrigue in his eyes.

Y/N smirked, leaning closer. “And you’ve been a pain in my ass since day one. Think you can handle me?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” he replied, his voice low and throaty, the space between them closing in.

It happened in a flash. Their lips collided, an explosion of pent-up attraction bursting forth; it was heated and passionate, igniting the air around them. She gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, their bodies fitting perfectly against each other.

The kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her onto his lap. Her heart raced as she intertwined her fingers in his hair, feeling the heat radiating from him, the chemistry undeniable.

“Damn, you really know how to put up a fight, don’t you?” he gasped between kisses, the words sending shivers down Y/N's spine.

“Just wait till you see what I can really do,” she teased breathlessly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

“Show me,” he dared, their lips brushing together again as they continued their heated makeout session, the world outside fading into nothingness.

As the heat began to simmer down, reality started creeping in, and Y/N pulled back slightly, catching her breath. “Well, this certainly wasn’t the celebration I expected,” she joked, a playful grin lighting up her face.

“Trust me, it was better than anything I could have anticipated,” he replied, his voice still thick with desire.

“Guess I’m going to be a pain in your ass for a while,” she teased, settling back into the passenger seat.

“Bring it on,” he smirked, confident and ready for whatever came next.

---

[cry-ptidd]

Very curious on Laura’s mommy and siblings, is there anything you can share?

I absolutely can!

Laura's mother is called Anne (her maiden surname being Charbonnier). She and Jean married in 1735, both aged around 25, and had ten nine children.

Physically, the first thing that had come to mind when I imagined her design was curly blonde hair and a long swan neck. Anne's build is quite tall and slender despite her age and number of pregnancies, and she has some noticeable birthmarks. Laura inherited her mom's diamond-shaped face and curly hair, as opposed to her dad's nose, freckles and complexion.

Anne was a headstrong and hardworking woman, with a strong loyalty to her husband despite his sour reputation. Laura was her first and eldest daughter, and both the pregnancy and birth were difficult for Anne, who nearly died in labor. However, miraculously, both her and her baby survived and made full recoveries. Thus, Jean baptized their daughter "Laura", to celebrate their little victory.

Laura was, as I said before, Jean's favorite child for that reason, and the fact that she was obedient and as headstrong as her mother solidified that fact. Anne saw it as privileging Laura, who also bothered her a bit because of her disinterest in marriage and her very outspoken faith, and so paid more attention to her other children and left Laura for her husband to take care of. Anne wasn't a bad mother and did her best, but she did emotionally neglect and/or lash out at Laura often, with an added touch of buried resentment due to the difficult birth.

When Laura got afflicted with her situation, Anne was so shocked she didn't speak to anyone for a week and worked her hands raw at chores to distract herself. She didn't go visit Laura, afraid of how painful it would be. An underlying guilt will follow her for the rest of her life, and her usual stern expression melted into one that appeared constantly worried or downcast after Laura's disappearance. Her husband, just as pained by the whole thing, silently forbade her and their children from speaking about Laura; it was a sour spot that the other villagers never brought up either due to the family's grief.

As for the Chastel children, here's their names directly from Wikipedia. I am NOT drawing all these guys.

There was rivalry between all of them, though it was never really serious and mostly just the product of their upbringing. Laura got along with her sisters better despite their lack of common interests, but also didn't overtly have problems with her brothers. As the oldest, Laura was the one reeling them in and often babysitting, always bringing them out of trouble. Her brothers would grow to feel protective of her in their teenhood, and constantly try to find her a man much to her annoyance. Jean forbade them from going to see her when she got bitten, mostly due to the pain of the transformation causing Laura to have to be constantly restrained.

After Laura's disappearance, the family dynamic started to turn sour, with a constant air of not addressing the elephant in the room. Some of the siblings left the town completely, while a few others turned out not so great; most ended up with normal lives, trying to move on from the tragedy that occurred. No mention of Laura would be spoken, as they all decided that talking about it would be too painful, especially considering the lack of answers they all have - and that Jean refuses to give.

[sendpseuds]

“Christ, Spencer’s still exists!?”

It has been many years since Obi-Wan has found himself at the mall, and if it weren’t for fear of incurring the wrath of his ex-wife, he’s fairly certain he never would have returned to this godforsaken place.

“You know what Spencer’s is?” 

Korkie’s voice is incredulous, arms crossed over his chest, staring up at Obi-Wan with his mother’s arched eyebrow like his father can’t possibly have knowledge about anything even mildly fun or cool.

Obi-Wan wants to roll his eyes.

Instead, he digs his nails into his palm.

Before you I was fun.

Before you I was cool.

“Of course I do,” he replies with a haughty huff, trying to swallow the defensive feeling in his throat, “When I was your age we would actually hang out at the mall.”

Korkie laughs.

Not kindly.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan feels even less cool than he had a moment before.

“You know,” Korkie muses as they near the novelty shop in question, his voice settling to a low note Obi-Wan isn’t sure he’s heard the boy hit before, finally settling into all the terrible changes and challenges of being a teenager, “Mom never lets me go in there—”

Translation: Here’s your chance to be the fun parent. The cool parent. 

It’s the oldest trick in the book, and frankly, he expects more from his own son, but they’ve got a long terrible day of ex-wife-mandated back-to-school shopping ahead of them and Obi-Wan thinks he’d rather start the nightmare with a smiling teen than a sulking one.

“I am curious,” Obi-Wan says, completely bypassing the comment about Satine. If he’s taking his son into what is, essentially, every teenager’s first sex shop, he’s at least going to make it his idea, “I wonder how much has changed.”

The excited smile on Korkie’s face looks a whole lot like victory.

“You can’t tell your mother.”

“Never,” Korkie promises before rushing ahead and into the dimly lit store.

Somehow, decades later, this place looks exactly the same. 

Dark.

Disorganized.

Debaucherous.

So very dark.

The front of the shop is littered with graphic t-shirts and novelty items — party games, gag gifts, and kitschy decor — the merchandise growing more and more adult the further back the display is. Obi-Wan is sure there are fuzzy handcuffs and dildos back by the Playboy posters and lava lamps but he remembers what it was like to be a teenage boy and Korkie’s going to learn about all of it sooner or later.

[And Satine is certainly not going to teach him about it if the boy’s recounting of her almost horrifyingly clinical sex talk is anything to go by.]

Korkie runs his hand over the orange owl on a black Hooter’s shirt and now, Obi-Wan does roll his eyes.

When the boy looks up, the mischievous smile on his face immediately transforms into a seething scowl.

He’s getting quite good at that look.

He looks so much like his mother.

“Don’t follow me, Dad!” Korkie bites out, scoffing loudly when Obi-Wan holds his hands up in surrender, turning on his heal and disappearing behind a shelf of alien-themed housewares.

“Yeah, Dad,” an unfamiliar voice says from somewhere behind him, the man’s tone low and teasing, “Leave him alone.”

Obi-Wan turns and finds himself pinned in place by eyes as blue as the Bad Bitch neon hanging beside him.

The beautiful young man standing behind the counter is wrapped all in black, ripped jeans slung low on his hips, plain black t-shirt beneath a leather harness, the sort Obi-Wan has never seen anyone wear outside of a porno and certainly never in public. Dyed black hair is growing out blonde at the roots and there’s a scar through the eyebrow that isn’t pierced and the way his stunning smile only grows makes something stir in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

I used to be cool.

I used to wear risky clothing and a ring in my ear.

I used to pop pills and smoke cigarettes.

I used to be young and hot.

Now, I’m just Dad.

“Well, that’s a surprise,” the stunning creature working at Spencer’s says, his voice lower than it was a moment ago, those wild blue eyes unabashedly tracing up and down Obi-Wan’s body with an amused grin, placing both his hands flat on the counter and hinging forward at the hips, arching his spine in a way that makes Obi-Wan sway forward, his eyes falling to a pair of perfect pink lips, imagining the metal piercing hard and cold between his teeth as they part to speak.

“I think I’d rather call you Daddy.”

[part two]

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Mr. Fix It

For a man who refuses to don a hat unless he’s in uniform, Steven J. McGarrett sure wears a lot of them. A decorated Navy SEAL, leader of the governor’s task force, expert pilot, sport pro, amateur (although he’d argue with you on that) mechanic, occasional ukulele player, son, brother, friend, uncle, husband, dog dad, and now race car-bed-putter-together. The man’s talents clearly know no bounds.

Leaning against the doorway of Charlie’s bedroom in Danny’s house, you can’t help but admire the view before you. Your husband has traded in his usual cargo pants and t-shirt for a pair of form fitting jeans that hug his lower half in all the right places and a plaid button up that shows off his muscular back and arms. A tool belt is slung low across his hips, and a few dirty jokes featuring the hammer and screwdriver tucked into their designated slots pop into your head unbidden. Steve slides the pencil out from behind his ear to make a mark on the wood, then grips the writing implement between his teeth to free up his hands. That draws your attention to the scruff currently dotting his cheeks and the sexy patch of gray along his chin that’s been steadily growing with every birthday that passes. He bends over to fit two pieces of the bed frame together, and your promise to Danny to not fool around in his house is suddenly dangerously close to being broken.

Passing Steve on your way to collect more wallpaper, you gather two handfuls of denim in a firm squeeze and appreciatively murmur, “Nice ass, stud.”

Your husband lets out an amused grunt, straightening up to his full height and tucking the pencil back in its rightful spot before turning to you with one eyebrow raised. “What was that, you cheeky little brat? Huh? You objectifying me again?”

“I said,” you emphasize as you climb the ladder with your next few feet of racing stripe wallpaper, “that’s a nice brass stud!”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, eyes twinkling with mirth. “Hey, lemme ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“You think Danno could fit in this bed, too?”

You turn to your husband, trying and failing to bite back your laughter. “You’re objectively the worst. And I’m telling him you said-”

Steve’s phone ringing interrupts your threat, and he brandishes his cell with a playful grin. “Speak of the Jersey devil.” He answers the phone, the smile melting off his face at whatever he’s hearing on the other end. After a few tense moments, he ends the call and then walks up to you on the ladder with a sigh.

“Duty calls?” you ask knowingly.

“Sorry, baby,” he pouts, leaning up to kiss you three times for I love you.

“Don’t get hurt, Steve!” you call to his retreating form down the hallway, getting a confident, “I won’t!” in response.

“I’m serious,” you yell louder as his footsteps grow quieter. “You’ve reached your allotted hospital visits for the month!”

__________

Later that night, you find yourself in the same position as this morning at the entrance to Charlie’s room, this time admiring the way the space has transformed into a little boy’s dream and enjoying the Indy 500 animatedly playing out before you.

“…and the crowd goes wild,” your husband declares, whisper-yelling cheers as Charlie grins proudly beside him. Steve tucks a victorious Charlie into bed before smoothing the little tyke’s hair down and pressing his lips to his forehead with a quiet, “I love you, buddy.” He joins you in the doorway, and your heart swells at Charlie’s voice sleepily calling out, “Goodnight, Uncle Steve! Goodnight, Auntie!”

“Goodnight, bubba, we love you,” you respond softly, flicking off the light switch and leaving only the glowing CHARLIE’S ROOM on the opposite wall as a nightlight. 

“Hey, race you in the morning?” Steve asks, head tilted in question. Charlie nods enthusiastically and his uncle reciprocates his excitement with a resounding, “Boom.”

Steve pulls the door shut behind you, and as you make your way down the hallway, you wrap your arms around his waist and lean into his solid form. “Should we make one?”

Your husband looks down at you, one eyebrow raised, and squeezes your hip. “You want a little race car bed, too?”

“Steve-” you groan, but he carries on with, “I mean, sure, but I’ll smoke your ass every time, babe.”

Laughing, you grip his face in one hand and smush his cheeks together until his nose scrunches up from a smile. “No, you doofus,” you correct him, “I meant should we start trying? Make a mini you?”

Steve’s eyes shine with adoration, and he shifts your hand to his mouth to press kisses against your palm. “You want to have a baby?”

“I think being a daddy would suit you well, Commander,” you purr, trailing your fingers down the sliver of skin peeking between the open buttons of his plaid shirt.

“That turn you on?” your husband teases in turn, taking note of the glint in your eye.

“I mean…” You trail off, looking up at him with a suggestive smirk. Using the collar of his shirt as leverage, you tug him closer and confess, “Uncle Steve with his kiddos is a hottie, don’t get me wrong, but Daddy Steve? One baby tucked up in each of those arms?” Your hands glide along his muscular biceps and you let out a hum of appreciation.

Steve’s eyes go wide, and he stills your wandering hands. “Woah there, two? At the same time?”

“Well, we can’t have one of your biceps getting bigger than the other,” you clarify. “You’d look dumb.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” he acquiesces, nodding. “You really want twins?”

“Steve,” you tut. “Don’t tell me the big bad Navy SEAL is afraid of dealing with two tiny humans.”

“I’m not afraid, I’m just, y’know- one is- is a lot already. Joanie could be a handful, so think about two of ‘em, two at the same time would be-”

“Hey,” you cut off his rambling, pulling him down to your level for a sound kiss. “How ‘bout we go home and get some practice in, and we’ll talk more about this tomorrow?” Steve’s hands glide down your body until they settle on your backside with a firm grip, and you take that as a yes. Pressing your lips to his again, you murmur, “Sound like a plan, McGarrett?”

He fixes you with a devilish grin in response. “Hooyah.”

__________

[A/N: I 👏🏽 love 👏🏽 this 👏🏽 man 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 My McGarrett obsession is somehow reaching dangerous new heights sos 🥵 And the thought of Daddy™️ as a daddy? Jesus take the wheel]

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY: Grim Tales

Calling of the Witchblade

Jaune and Sage waited outside the Rose-Xiao Long house wearing their costumes. Sage wore a dark blue suit and had prop pistol attached to his waist. Jaune, meanwhile, was dressed as a barbarian, complete with a black headband, leather boots and furred loincloth. Sage giggled slightly as he saw him shiver.

Sage: See, this is why I told you that going shirtless was a bad idea.

Jaune: I'm not cold, I'm just nervous. I've never met a girlfriend's parents before. What do I even say?

Sage: Dude, relax. I've already met Mr Xiao Long and Miss Rose before and they're totally cool. I'm sure they'll love you. Well, if you aren't too much like yourself.

Jaune: *deadpan look* Gee, thanks. *rings doorbell*

Sage/Jaune: Trick or treat!

The door opened and inside stood Yang and Ruby. Yang wore a stylish yellow dress, black waist ribbon, black stockings, yellow boots and a witch's hat. Ruby was dressed as a werewolf, with red fake wolf ears and tail, red paws and red furred boots. They looked at their boyfriends and smirked delightfully.

Yang: Looks it's treats for us.

Ruby: Yep! *playful growl*

Jaune: *blushes* H-Hi Ruby, happy birthday. *hugs her*

Sage: *small laugh* Hey there, babe. *kisses Yang*

Taiyang: Ah, so the boys have finally arrived.

Taiyang walked into the hallway holding 3 large pumpkins. He had grey zombie facepaint and wore a ripped shirt and jeans.

Sage: Great to see you again, Mr Xiao Long.

Jaune: Um, nice to meet you sir. I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc.

Taiyang: Pleasure. *shakes Jaune's hand* Oooh, quite a grip.

Yang: Hey day, you need a hand with those pumpkins?

Taiyang: It's all good, sweetheart. Besides, you better save those hands for the Carving Contest.

Yang: Aw yeah! You're so going down this year! *points at Tai*

Ruby: Has anyone heard from mom yet?

Yang: Beats me. She's never this late.

Taiyang: She probably got held up at work. It's probably nothing.

* * *

[City of Vale- Murk District]

Summer Rose wandered into a dingy, slimey alleyway. On her right hand was a silver bracelet with a ruby at the center and it faintly glowed as she continued walking.

Summer: You'd better show yourself. It's my daughter's birthday and I do NOT intend on being late!

Low growling could be heard from all corners and 3 Beowolves peered from the shadows. Summer's bracelet glowes brighter and her red leather jacket and black jeans transformed into scarlet armour that exposed most of her voluptuous body. The Beowolves snarled and lunged towards her. Summer smirked and made quick work of them. She threw several punches and kicks at the Grimm, sending them flying across the alleyway. They gave pained moans before crumbling to ash.

Summer: Was that it? Give me a break.

Her short lived victory was interrupted by a loud roar coming from behind her. She turned around to see an Ursa raising its claw. She managed to block the attack just in time, yet was still knocked back slightly. Summer regained compsure and a long blade protruded from her right arm. The Ursa roared fiercely and got on all fours. They stared at each other intensely before making the charge.

SLASH!!!

A chunk of the Ursa's arm was torn off and it toppled over. Summer turned and leaped onto its stomach and stabbed it in the neck. Black blood seeped out and, like its Beowolf bretheren, the Ursa crumbled to ash. Summer transformed back to her street clothes and left the alleyway.

Summer: What a waste of time. I spent hours trying to search for clues and all I get are low-level Grimm.

Suddenly, the caws of crows filled the air and Summer looked up to find a murder of them flying above her.

Summer: Hmph. What the hell do you want, Qrow?

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Out December 2023 🌈

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ Caught in a Bad Fauxmance by Elle Gonzalez Rose 🧡 Heartstopper #5 by Alice Oseman 💛 This Cursed Light by Emily Thiede 💚 All The Hidden Paths by Foz Meadows 💙 Vampires of Eden: Book One by Karla Nikole 💜 Not My Type by Joe Satoria ❤️ Storm in Her Heart by KC Luck 🧡 Eternal Embrace by Luna Lawson 💛 A River of Golden Bones by A.K. Mulford 💙 Tomb of Heart and Shadow by Cara N. Delaney 💜 Through the Embers Volume 2 by Adriana Sargent 🌈 Lucero by Maya Motayne

❤️ The Poison Paradox by Hadley Field & Felix Green 🧡 Second Chances in New Port Stephen: A Novel by TJ Alexander 💛 Matrimonial Merriment by Nicky James 💚 Under the Christmas Tree by Jacqueline Ramsden 💙 Every Beat of Her Heart by KC Richardson 💜 The Memories of Marlie Rose by Morgan Lee Miller ❤️ Playing with Matches by Georgia Beers 🧡 Always Only You by Chloe Liese 💛 Fire in the Sky by Radclyffe and Julie Cannon 💙 Nuclear Sunrise by Jo Carthage 💜 The Naked Dancer by Emme C. Taylor 🌈 Resurrections by Ada Hoffmann

❤️ Destiny’s Women by Morgan Elliott 🧡 Framed by Kate Merrill 💛 The Spoil of Beasts by Gregory Ashe 💚 Catered All the Way by Annabeth Albert 💙 A Cynic’s Christmas Conundrum by L.M. Bennett 💜 Yours for the Taking by Gabrielle Korn ❤️ One Swipe Away by Nicole Higginbotham-Hogue 🧡 The Gentlemen’s Club by A.V. Shener 💛 A Death at the Dionysus Club by Melissa Scott and Amy Griswold 💙 Secrets of the Soul by Holly Oliver 💜 Like They Do in the Movies by Nan Campbell 🌈 Limelight by Gun Brooke

❤️ Heart First by S.B. Barnes 🧡 Grave Consequences by Sandra Barret 💛 Haunted by Myth by Barbara Ann Wright 💚 Invisible by Anna Larner 💙 The Murders at Sugar Mill Farm by Ronica Black 💜 Coasting and Crashing by Ana Hartnett ❤️ Fairest by K.S. Trenten 🧡 A City of Abundant Opportunity by Howard Leonard 💛 The Dark Side of MIdnight by Erin Wade 💙 Mending Bones by Merlina Garance 💜 Transform by Connal Braginsky & Sean Ian O’Meidhir 🌈 The Apple Diary by Gerri Hill

❤️ TruLove by Nicole Pyland 🧡 Structural Support by Sloan Spencer 💛 Whiskey War by Stacy Lynn Miller 💚 Overkill by Lou Wilham 💙 Heart of Outcasts by Nicole Silver 💜 In the Shadow of Victory by J. E. Leak ❤️ Just Like Her by Fiona Zedde 🧡 Gingerbread: Claus For Christmas by Miski Harris 💛 Lies are Forever by C. Jean Downer 💙 The Boys in the Club by M.T. Pope 💜 Lasting Light (Metal & Magic) by Michelle Frost 🌈 Tell No Tales by Edie Montreux

❤️ Radio Silence by Alice Oseman 🧡 Even Though We're Adults Vol. 7 by Takako Shimura 💛 The Accidental Bite by Michelle St. Wolf 💚 Mated to the Demons by Taylor Schafer 💙 Someday Away by Sara Elisabeth 💜 Gatherdawn Luminia Duet Volume 1 by Lee Colgin ❤️ Curse of Dawn by Richard Amos 🧡 Healing the Twin by Nora Phoenix 💛 Ride Me by KD Ellis 💙 How to Bang a Vampire by Joe Satoria 💜 Cthulhu for Christmas by Meghan Maslow 🌈 Prestige by Toni Reeb

❤️ Don't Look Down by Jessica Ann 🧡 Winter and the Wolves by Chris Storm and Kinkaid Knight 💛 Hat Trick by Ajay Daniel 💚 Starborn Husbands: Return to the Pleiades by S. Legend 💙 Dead Serious Case #4 Professor Prometheus Plume by Vawn Cassidy 💜 Practice for Toby by Amy Bellows ❤️ The Siren's Song by Crista Crown 🧡 Hers to Hunt K.J. Devoir

[emkayewrites]

These two pictures inspired one of the chapters of my Lukola fanfiction called 'Curtain Fall'...

Here's a sneak preview:

17th June 2022 – Brockenhurst (UK)

Everything about The Pig exuded charming British elegance. Nestled in the heart of the historic New Forest National Park, the homely country manor served as a five-star hotel with an acclaimed restaurant. It was a favourite weekend escape for city dwellers who were attracted to it for its natural beauty; from free-roaming local horses to ancient woodlands that were perfect for long walks.

It was a place particularly revered for offering the finest of traditional English dining without excessive pretension. The dining rooms had a rustic, cosy charm, featuring open fires and mismatched antique furniture.

Nicola and Luke sat opposite each other at a farmhouse-style table in a private dining room called the Green Room that was reserved for special guests. A Victorian-style fireplace and floor-to-ceiling conservatory doors opened onto a private garden terrace. Before them lay a half-eaten feast: salads with organic vegetables from the estate's garden, freshly baked bread with warm butter, a plate of oyster mushroom pappardelle for her, and a sourdough pizza for him.

They had been invited to this countryside retreat for the weekend courtesy of the production team. This was their first day and they had been greeted with a prepared lunch. He sat there in a slightly over-sized salmon button-down shirt and jeans. In contrast, she was dressed in a little more sophistication. She wore a dark tapestry mini dress with tie shoulders that cinched in her waist in a way she hoped would be flattering.

"You know, when Jess told me we should get bonding, she mentioned doing it over a coffee. This is a little more than a coffee." Nicola laughed, trying to shake the awkwardness off herself. She was used to spending time with Luke but this setting felt different. It felt intimate.

"It's on brand though." Luke replied, nodding at their surroundings. He was not wrong. This could be a room straight from Bridgerton.

She reached out and touched the green wall panels.

"What do you reckon this is – Farrow and Ball?" She quizzed.

"What's that?"

"You haven't heard of Farrow and Ball?"

He shrugged in an I don't know what to tell you sort of way.

"Well, that surprises me. Maybe you're not as posh as I think you are." She teased. "It's very posh paint, with pretentious names like Elephant's Fanny and Leopard's Arse."

He laughed. "OK, that's quite enough. You need to stop calling me posh. People might start believing you and expecting things from me."

"Anything east of Dublin is posh," she retorted, making him laugh again.

This is what she thrived on: banter. Their friendship was based on her dry wit and sarcasm. Making him or anyone else on set laugh was a small victory for her.  She was trying hard not to think about having to switch gears and drop the humour she wore as armour.

She had not wanted to admit it, but sitting across from him now, it was harder to deny: he was absolutely beautiful. To make matters worse, he was kind too.

Why couldn't the love interest be someone with a hideous personality in real life? She found herself wandering.

She was barely out of her reverie when he reached out and wrapped his hand around hers, guiding it gently away from the wall and in front of his face, inches from his lips. He took a deep breath, and his blue eyes bore into her own.

Oh God, that was his Colin face.

You can read more here:

[losingabs2000]

Diary of a Future Dad Bod

As a lover of WG stories, with the help of one of the AI apps, here is a story!

Diary Entry - Day 1:

Today marks the beginning of a new journey for me. I've always been on the slimmer side, but I've decided to hit the gym and transform my body. It's time to add some muscle and sculpt the physique I've always desired. I've taken my initial measurements as a starting point:

Weight: 160 lbs

Chest: 38 inches

Waist: 30 inches

Biceps: 12 inches

I've started a workout routine focusing on strength training and weightlifting. I'm excited to see how my body responds to the challenge.

Diary Entry - Day 30:

It's been a month since I started hitting the gym regularly, and I can already notice some changes. My muscles feel firmer, and my strength has increased significantly. My dedication is paying off.

Weight: 165 lbs

Chest: 40 inches

Waist: 31 inches

Biceps: 13 inches

I've had to tighten my belt a notch as my waist seems to be filling out slightly. My shirts are starting to fit better, especially around the chest and shoulders. It's a small victory, but it's motivating me to keep pushing harder.

Diary Entry - Day 60:

Two months in, and I'm amazed at the progress I've made. My muscles are growing, and my body is transforming. I've gained some weight, but it's a healthy weight gain that's reflecting in my physique.

Weight: 175 lbs

Chest: 42 inches

Waist: 32 inches

Biceps: 14 inches

I've had to invest in new clothes as my old ones are becoming a bit snug around the arms and chest. It's a great feeling to see the shirts stretch around my muscles. The transformation is becoming more apparent, and I'm proud of the changes I've made.

Diary Entry - Day 90:

Three months of dedication and hard work have resulted in a significant transformation. I've become beefy, sporting a dad bod style body with well-defined muscles. My efforts in the gym are paying off in ways I never imagined.

Weight: 185 lbs

Chest: 44 inches

Waist: 33 inches

Biceps: 15 inches

My clothes no longer fit the same way they used to. My shirts are snug around the chest and shoulders, and my jeans feel tighter around the thighs. It's a good problem to have. I'm enjoying this new look, and the compliments I receive from friends and family are a constant reminder of my progress.

Diary Entry - Day 120:

Four months of consistent training have transformed my body beyond my wildest expectations. I'm now sporting a muscular physique, and I feel more confident than ever before. My body continues to change, and I'm embracing every bit of it.

Weight: 195 lbs

Chest: 46 inches

Waist: 34 inches

Biceps: 16 inches

Finding clothes that fit well has become a bit of a challenge. I need larger sizes to accommodate my muscular build. The sleeves of my shirts hug my biceps tightly, and my pants now require a wider waistline. It's a constant reminder of the progress I've made and the effort I've put in.

Diary Entry - Day 150:

Today, I reflect on the remarkable journey I've undertaken. I've reached my desired goal, and I couldn't be happier with my dad bod style body. My muscles are bigger and more defined than ever, and I've gained a sense of self-confidence I never had before.

Weight: 200 lbs

Chest: 48 inches

Waist: 35 inches

Biceps: 17 inches

Shopping for clothes has become a whole new experience for me. Finding clothes that fit my muscular frame has become a priority. Shirts that used to hang loosely on me now accentuate my chest and arms, while pants require a larger waist size to accommodate my muscular thighs. It's a constant reminder of the progress I've made and the transformation my body has undergone.

Diary Entry - Day 180:

Six months have passed since I began this incredible fitness journey, and the changes are nothing short of remarkable. My body has settled into its new shape, maintaining a balanced combination of muscle and a touch of fat that gives me the desired dad bod style.

Weight: 200 lbs (maintained)

Chest: 48 inches (maintained)

Waist: 35 inches (maintained)

Biceps: 17 inches (maintained)

I'm amazed at how my body has adapted to this new lifestyle. The once-loose shirts now cling to my well-developed chest and arms, showcasing the results of my hard work at the gym. Even my jeans have taken on a different look, hugging my legs snugly and highlighting the muscular definition.

Diary Entry - Day 210:

Nine months into my fitness journey, and I continue to feel proud of my body's transformation. The combination of muscle and a little extra weight has given me a sturdy, strong appearance. I embrace my dad bod style with confidence.

Weight: 205 lbs

Chest: 49 inches

Waist: 36 inches

Biceps: 18 inches

My wardrobe has seen a complete overhaul. Gone are the days of fitted shirts and slim-cut pants. Now, I opt for looser-fitting clothes that flatter my muscular physique. It's a different style, but one that suits me perfectly.

Diary Entry - Day 240:

Almost a year has passed since I embarked on this journey, and I couldn't be happier with the results. My dad bod style body is a testament to the hard work and dedication I've put into shaping myself.

Weight: 205 lbs (maintained)

Chest: 49 inches (maintained)

Waist: 36 inches (maintained)

Biceps: 18 inches (maintained)

My clothing choices have evolved along with my body. I've learned how to embrace my muscular build while maintaining comfort and style. It's amazing how clothes can become an expression of one's journey and confidence.

Diary Entry - Day 365:

As I reflect on the past year, I am grateful for the changes I've experienced. From a skinny frame to a muscular dad bod, my body has become a symbol of my determination and perseverance. The journey continues, and I look forward to new fitness goals and further exploration of my newfound confidence.

Weight: 205 lbs (maintained)

Chest: 49 inches (maintained)

Waist: 36 inches (maintained)

Biceps: 18 inches (maintained)

Remember, transformation is a continuous process, and I'm excited to see where the next chapter takes me.

[oxygenbefore1775]

how colors from aot merchandise/official illustrations somehow correspond perfectly with each of the assigned characters

or

aot color analysis

*disclaimer for some controversial character/ship dynamic opinions but also stupid rumblings about color analysis*

Eren - Red

Do I fucking need to say more?

It's like a flag that needs to make itself seen and aknowledged. It spells warning and danger which Eren becomes in his adult years. Red is also agression and hatred, Eren's most prominent personality traits. It's a color most commonly associated with evil and Eren was known to the outside world as Devil of Paradis. But more than anything, red is a color of blood that gets spilled wherever there's violence and slaughter - very indicative of what's become of the Continent after Eren started the Rumbling.

But it's also important to remember that Eren draws blood each time before the transformation. Red is a color of sacrifice in this sense, the passion and zeal which drives Eren to fight. As it does to all of the humanity behind the Walls. Red is a great color for banners, the ones that encourage and lead people into the battle, just like Eren's presence did. In this sense, red bears a positive connotation for Paradisians as it represents life.

And let's not forget that color red is symbolic of warmth. The scarf that Eren gave Mikasa on the day she has lost her family was red. The color is indicative of home that Mikasa found in Eren.

Mikasa - Blue

Or rather navy blue.

Although Mikasa's signature color in anime is red but blue suits her much better. She's a stark contrast to red's aggression and energy. Blue, on the other hand, conveys the same calmness and security that Mikasa does. Blue is the stability which Mikasa craves the most in her life. There's not a lot of blue in the nature (if you don't live by the sea, that is) and the only blue thing commonly available is the sky yet it still very far away and feels foreign. So in that sense, Mikasa is one of a kind on Paradis and seems foreign to other people.

Yet blue also represents sadness. It's the color of the past and serves as the constant reminder of the gone days, bearing negative connotations. Also, blue and red - even if they compliment each other in a way - still create a very strong contrast, much like Eren's resolve to move forward opposing Mikasa's desire to stay behind and not fight the fate. When there's too much of blue, it may come off as unfriendly.

Armin - Yellow

And you thought it'd be blue, huh.

Armin is more than the ocean, he is the sun itself which is represented with color yellow. Invoking a feeling of optimism, it is the literal essence of Armin who stays perseverent and keeps up his spirits in the most dire situations. Much like the sun, survival of many people depends on Armin as he mostly came up with all the battle plans that ensured Paradis' victory. Speaking of plans - yellow is the color of intelligence and "enlightement" which Armin is mostly known for.

But as much as yellow can be optimistic and invigorating, it can also induce anxiety that Armin's sometime riddled with. This color is also representative of deceit - seeing how Armin often used manipulation for his plans to succeed, it seems very fitting.

Jean - Olive Green

Sometimes he's represented through light blue but I completely do not agree with this rendition. *cracks me knuckles* Get ready for a rant on this one.

What can I not say about the color green? It's everywhere, it's the nature, it's the very essence of life, but not in the grandeous and elevated way. Green is all-enveloping but still very much grounded in reality. Just like Jean, it's the representation of practicality as it doesn't reach for the stars and doesn't chase dreams. It symbolizes reason, which is very much Jean's most prominent aspect of personality. This color is the definition and celebration of life that Jean treasures so much. Green also exhudes calming influence and promotes the making of rational decisions in the moments of mayhem - just like with Jean, who often had to take control in his hands during critical situations since he was the only one with a cool head. Besides, green means safety and stability and that where its contrast to red sets in - although Jean is not afraid of danger, he'd assess the risks of a situation beforehand, whereas Eren goes into action recklessly.

Green also has its negative sides. As much as it is realistic, it can also be overly materialistic, turning to greed, represantion of Jean's initial goals when he became a Cadet. It can also symbolize the envy - feeling that Jean often felt towards Eren.

But when it comes to Jean's green - which is olive green - out of all colors of the other characters it reminds of the scout uniform the best. His green is more strict and militaristic, as if symbolizing Jean's true vocation as a soldier and a leader.

A combination of yellow and blue, green has properties of both of those colors. But Jean's olive green seems to have more yellow, signifying the major role the reason has in his life. And, it also makes it more comparable to Armin's yellow, seeing as they have intellectual dynamic going on between them. At the same time, it lacks the calmness of the blue which corresponds with Jean's occasional hot temper and anger outbursts.

Levi - Green

Just like with Jean, Levi's green is the representation of how down-to-earth he is. He doesn't have big dreams of grandeur and his motivations are simple, straightforward and rest on his desire to defend the lives of the innocent and provide others with safety, which is also symbolized through green. It's also the color of the nature and its immortality which in a way corresponds with Levi's persistence and undying resolve in the face of countless dangers. But that, of course, also has its negative connotations since Levi continues to stand, untouched, while he has to bear witness to the deaths of his comrades.

Levi's green is also reminiscent of the cloaks that the scouts used to wear while he's the only one who still wears one. It shows his unwavering loyalty to the old ways and how he still carries the spirit of the former survey corps.

In comparison to Jean's, Levi's green is more rich and cool as it has more blue to it, which represent his self-composure but also wisdom since among other scouts he has much more experience.

Hange - Purple

Oo, this one's going to be interesting.

A mixture of blue and red, two clashing colors, purple is very unique and Hange rocks it so well. First thing first, it's a color of royalty and its authority - quite fitting, seeing as Hange was in the leading positiion as the head of the survey corp. Color purple has also always been associated with ingenious minds. Purple welcomes knowledge and anything knew really, like Hange who is eager to learn if opportunity presents itself. It also represents knowledge - not grounded in reality one, but almost extraterrestial and mysterious. This color encourages to dream of something otherwordly. Part red, it also conveys passion, mostly passion for learning so it makes sense in a way that Hange and Eren were once united over their shared passion for titan knowledge. By some accounts, purple is described to be the color of insane emotions and energy which obvioulsy calls back to Hange's vigor that can be overwhelming sometimes. But on the other side, purple also has blue, a representative of authority and security that they, no doubt, bestowed upon their comrades and friends.

[artmindlens]

Jean-Léon Gérôme Retour de la chasse, Circassian à l'abreuvoir ca. 1877

Conquest and Achievement: The Cyclical Effort of Risk-Taking

The presence of the small fawn suggests that while the figure has achieved something, it is not a grand conquest. In traditional hunts, a male deer or a larger, more significant catch would symbolize a more profound victory. Here, the small size of the catch reflects a life where efforts may yield results, but not on a large scale. This speaks to the cyclical nature of financial gain—where money or success is achieved through continuous acts of risk-taking, but never in yielding proportional abundance. It suggests a pattern where the individual must continually embark on new ventures, hunts, or risks to maintain their status, rather than achieving long-lasting or stable wealth.

In the world of business or finance, this mirrors a life of constant striving. Individuals in this position may achieve incremental successes, they maybe outwardly strong, disciplined and with many achievements but they are not destined for stable wealth or financial security. Instead, they are reliant on continuous effort and risk-taking to maintain their financial standing. The small fawn serves as a metaphor for the limited returns one might gain from these efforts—hard-earned but not monumental.

The Comfort of Tamed Instincts

Despite the modest achievement, there is an underlying sense of control and mastery over the figure’s instincts. The rider, calm and composed, has clearly tamed both the horse and the dogs.

This element of control over instincts reflects a leadership style that is highly disciplined and self-regulated. In a business context, this individual would be someone who can manage their emotions and reactions effectively, ensuring that their decisions are measured and thoughtful. However, this mastery comes with its own price — it serves as a testament to diligent effort without the abundance of return ���perhaps sacrificing the opportunity for greater, more instinctual risks that could lead to larger rewards.

The Unattainable Goal of Stability and Ease

The fortress in the background symbolizes something far greater—an ideal of stable wealth, noble life, and long-term success, akin to a wellspring of water, the most essential resource for survival. This artwork speaks to potential: the figure in the painting, and by extension the viewer, possesses the talent and discipline necessary to become the lord of this grand castle, though it remains tantalizingly out of reach. The figure stands not inside, but outside its walls, suggesting that this level of comfort and stability is something they aspire to but always elusive to those who are constantly striving, always working hard for success. It represents the longed-for ease and security that can only come from a stable, protected environment—something the individual has yet to realize.

In the financial world, this may reflect a career or business model where stability remains an elusive goal, always just out of reach despite ongoing efforts.

A Life of Effort, But Modest Reward

The overall composition of the painting suggests a life where effort and discipline are constant, but the rewards are often small. The figure achieves control over their instincts, maintains their composure, and experiences moments of success, but these successes are not overwhelming or transformative. The contrast between the modest lamb and the grandeur of the castle highlights the gap between effort and reward.

In a business setting, this could be a cautionary tale about overworking for limited returns. It encourages reflection on whether one’s efforts are truly leading to the desired outcome, or whether they are caught in a cycle of hard work without meaningful progress. Leaders might consider whether their strategies are too focused on control and incremental gains, rather than taking the larger risks necessary for substantial success.

Conclusion: The Struggle Between Effort and Stability

This painting speaks to the tension between effort and stability, control and ambition. While the figure has achieved some level of success and control, the larger goal of stable, effortless wealth remains out of reach. It reflects the experience of individuals who are constantly working hard, achieving moderate success, but never quite attaining the stability or ease they desire. In the context of business and leadership, this painting serves as a reminder to assess whether one's efforts are truly leading to the desired rewards, or whether they are simply maintaining a cycle of modest achievement.

[cookies-over-yonder]

hard-to-remove stains

During a Super Smash Bros tournament with everyone, Taylor gets hit with a bad memory.

ao3

ty @cgi-heart-eyes for listening to me ramble abt this idea before i wrote it <3

Taylor is sitting with the others playing Smash Bros when the action of the game dissolves into a memory out of nowhere once again.

It starts with the smell of blood. He doesn’t know why he can still smell it.

His eyes shut, and he hears the “Game over!” from the TV speakers.

Cracking them open, he sees that he lost; second place, Scary crowned victorious.

The joy-con feels foreign in his hands, and there’s that same staticy feeling he gets sometimes.

He just needs a minute.

And that’s what he says, telling them they can keep playing, he’ll be back in a minute.

The slam of the door brings him back a little bit. He didn’t mean to be so loud.

He just needs a minute.

Coolness against his back transforms into fiery heat, and he shuts his eyes again, only to be met with the sight of his dad’s severed legs, blood pooling around them, Taylor’s jeans soaked.

It’s not happening right now.

Taylor knows that.

It’s just a memory.

And it’s not even a big deal.

But it’s still getting harder to breathe.

He opens his eyes and tries to find things in the room to stare at, but his eyes gloss over everything.

He glances at the carpet, and imagines what it’d look like covered in his dad’s blood.

Worse. That’s worse.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck .

“Taylor? Are you okay?”

“I—I’m fine, Link,” he forces out, voice weaker than it should be. Weaker than it is.

There’s hands on his shoulders. He feels it past the static.

“You don’t look okay.”

He shuts his eyes again, scrunching up his face as if it’ll make it go away, and his claws make their way to his hair.

Link is saying something else.

Taylor doesn’t know what.

His chest hurts.

His throat hurts.

He’s sitting on something soft now.

Link squeezes his hands, and his eyes snap open, staring at Link’s knees.

And Taylor’s blanket.

They’re on his bed.

“Can you hear me?”

He thinks he nods.

“You’re having a panic attack.”

So that’s what this is. Inconvenient.

“You’re okay, it’s going to pass, it’s okay. Can you look at me?”

Taylor tilts his head up to meet Link’s eyes.

Wide and concerned, but a comfort nonetheless.

Link is always a comfort.

“I want you to breathe with me, okay?” he says, voice simultaneously gentle and firm.

Taylor nods again, and he finds himself entering a rhythm with Link. Big breath in, big breath out.

Taylor looks around the room. His posters, figurines, pillows and plushies are all here, and yet earlier he couldn’t identify a thing.

“Thanks,” he says, breathing easier.

“Of course.”

Taylor slips his hands out from Link’s grasp and heads for the door. He lets out an awkward laugh before saying, “We… we should get back to playing—”

“Are you okay?”

Taylor stops with a hand on the doorknob. It’s shaking.

“I’m fine, man. Don’t—don’t worry about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Taylor turns around. Link is standing right there, looking down at him with that same look of worry and fiddling with the beads of his bracelet.

“There’s nothing to say, Link,” Taylor says, having trouble meeting his eyes and settling for his ring. He’s fiddling with that too, spinning it, and spinning it, and spinning it around his middle finger. It’s black like Taylor’s nails, though less glittery. Maybe nail polish can make both of them forget about this. “Just happens sometimes, that’s all.”

“That’s happened before? ” Link asks, his voice even more concerned and maybe slightly shocked too. “Taylor, you know you can talk to us if you’re struggling, right?”

“But I’m not! ’ Taylor shouts, storming away from the door and collapsing into his gamer chair, finally facing Link properly. “Just—just—just—it’s not, like, anything , okay? I’m chilling!”

Link is frowning. He’s not saying anything, but he’s got that stupid pouty look and those big wet eyes…

Fucking hell.

Taylor sighs.

“Look, maybe I just… get wrapped up in my head sometimes! Maybe sometimes I—I—I can’t stop remembering when Scary sliced my dad and I thought he was dead! Maybe I can’t stop picturing every carpet soaked in blood after that—but he was fine! He was fine, and he is fine, so I’m not struggling, and nothing is wrong. Why is your face doing that, man? I’m okay.”

Link is frowning, and his eyes are teary, and next thing Taylor knows, he’s being hugged, and lifted, and hugged tighter in the air.

His own eyes are stinging too, he realizes, and he swipes at them repeatedly. If only he could suck the tears back in. That’d be fucking epic.

As much as he wants to ask Link to put him down, being held so tight is good. And the view from over Link’s shoulder is much better than down on the ground.

“Next time that happens, can you just, like, text me or something? Or call me? Please?” Link pleads.

“O—okay, I will,” Taylor says, wrapping his arms around Link in return and resting his head on his shoulder, and breathing out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

[cry-ptidd]

Could I tell me about Laura's background? Family, ethnicity, etc? What her her skills, if she has any?

More Laura lore (lau-re lol)

Laura is French and her ethnicity is European. She was born on December 24th 1735 in La Besseyre-Saint-Mary (in the department of Haute-Loire in central France) and baptized three days after. (Her lightly tanned skin comes from her peasant family adapted working in the sun in the fields.)

Her parents’ names are Jean Chastel and Anne Charbonnier. She was the oldest of 9 siblings (although they will be born a few years after her). They were both peasants, but they made enough of a living to not worry much about money.

She was her father’s favorite child (even though she was a daughter and not a son), mostly due to the circumstances of her birth. Her mother had extreme complications during the birth, and Laura herself was pronounced dead a few minutes after birth, but then suddenly regained consciousness in the arms of her mother. That and the fact that her mother miraculously survived the difficult birth, made her father believe she was blessed by God and named her Laura (meaning ‘Laurel’, a tree associated with victory). Her mother recovered fully and was able to bear 9 additional children a few years after.

Her father was literate and taught her how to read and write. She was a devout Christian and attended church regularly.

Her early life was pretty calm, and she got along very well with her father, although her mother prioritized her siblings over her due to the favorable treatment of her father. She asked to remain celibate as a result of her faith, which both of her parents accepted. Her younger sisters were thus wed before her.

She was sometimes teased for her rather androgynous behavior, working ‘men’s jobs’ and being her father’s preferred child rather than his sons. Some people teased her saying she would play the man’s role and get with a woman due to her disinterest in men and behavior. (Which is true as she is a lesbian, but didn’t accept it until much later). She didn’t let the teasing get to her though and was known for being peaceful and just.

She was extremely diligent and always got her work efficiently on time, and sometimes helped her father at the inn he owned.

Her father wasn’t the most well-liked man, and some people said Laura and her mother were into witchcraft. (Those were just rumors, and Laura didn’t let the insults go to her head and made sure to protect her family’s honor.)

One day however, on March 31 1760, she was out herding cattle in a clearing, where a werewolf attacked her. She was bitten on the forearm and her lower stomach was scratched. Some of the villagers heard her cries and drove the beast away, and tended to her the best they could. No one believed her story of the werewolf, believing it to be just a very agressive wolf. It was all downhill from there to be fair.

(I will divulge her full backstory in a later post.)

Skills

By skills I’ll assume you mean both powers and everyday skills ?

Werewolf skills:

Immortality

Superhuman Senses

Superhuman Strength

Superhuman Durability

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Reflexes

Regeneration

Impenetrable skin (at the exception of silver)

Transformation (into a werewolf)

Invulnerability

Intangibility

Self-Disintegration

Extreme pain tolerance

Her skills are about the same as Hans’, at the exception of her greater durability and truly gigantic wolf form.

She is a very powerful foe, and that is why Alucard decided to recruit her. He sometimes tries to pick fights with her due to her being very powerful but she turns him down, as she isn’t interested in the thrill of battle like Alucard is.

Everyday skills:

Excellent cooking

Organisation and cleaning

Knowledge in literature, theology and psychology

Sharpshooting skills

First-aid and basic construction

Basic sewing and darning

Driving

Unbreakable will and determination

Most of these (aside from the cooking, cleaning, and ‘book’ knowledge) were taught after she was recruited into Hellsing as part of her maid training (as well as being polite enough to be hospitable)

Despite her general grumpiness and disdain for being alive, she is pretty well-mannered and still maintains some old-timey language.

[yeargerbbyblr]

Constellations and Apologies

Eren and his sister Fay were always really close growing up. Inseparable even. But after the death of their mother, Eren was never the same with her. It was almost like he blamed her for their mom's death.

I've had this idea for a while. Ever since I watched aot for the first time age 13, I've had an OC that was Eren's sister. She had gone through so many name changes over the years, but I landed of Fay, thinking, this would be so sweet if Grisha wanted to name his daughter after his sister.

Enjoy my attempt at an Eren angst, featuring my OC that I love like she's my baby. Set after they reclaim wall maria <3

not proofread, too much effort x

crossposted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60568789

WK: 5141

Eren and his sister Fay were always really close growing up. Inseparable even. But after the death of their mother, Eren was never the same with her. It was almost like he blamed her for their mom's death.

Fay was there with their mother as the wall was breached. After Eren and her mom had gotten into yet another fight about him watching to join the Survey Corps. She was left alone with her mother. When the wall was kicked in, a massive boulder came straight for their house. Luckily, her mom managed to push her out of the house, getting trapped under the rubble in the process.

It had been six years since that day, Fay was now fifteen and Eren was sixteen. They had just made it back from reclaiming Wall Maria. Even though the joy from the victory was there, everyone was on edge, especially since there was only eleven scouts left. You, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Sasha, Connie, Floch, Hange, and Levi.

Fay was sat in the mess hall, eating her dinner, when Eren walked into it for his. She haven't had a proper conversation with Eren since before the fall of Wall Maria. Before she joined the military, he would respond to anything she said with anger, now he won't even look at her. Fay didn't know which is worse. Fay wanted her brother back. She missed him. She didn't fully understand why he wouldn't talk to her.

He knows why he won't talk to her. He thinks that she's the reason your mother is dead. It pains him to even look at her, especially since, as she's grown, she looks almost identical to her.

Eren sat down at the table both their friends were sat at, every time she looked at him, he looked at her, with a slight glare. She didn't know if she should say something, or if she should just cut her losses and try and move on from wanting her brother back.

The entire time, there was chatter around the table from all their friends. Fay tried to listen in, to drown out the sound of her own thought, but nothing was working.

She looked up from her food, passed the end of it to Sasha, saying 'Here, finish it' and stood up, leaving the mess hall to head outside. Once she got outside, she climbed up the side of one of the building, to get to a small little rooftop. It was dark, so here she was able to enjoy the quiet, as well as the stars.

Stargazing was a bittersweet experience for her. On one hand, she loved the stars, she love how they shone down on the world, twinkling in the dark blue sky. She loved the cool air the nighttime brought, and the look of the moon next to all the stars.

On the other hand, stargazing was something she first started to do with Eren as a child. Something that only her and Eren shared. When they were eight and nine, Fay and Eren used to sneak out of the house late at night, and walk to the tree on the hill. They would lay under it, until the sun started to rise, watching the stars. Eren would tell her everything he learned about the Ocean from Armin, and about how he wanted to join the Scouts one day. Those were some of the most cherished memories Fay had, she held them so close to her heart.

After a few moments of Fay leaving the mess hall, Eren realized she wasn't returning, so he turned to the others to ask about it.

"Where'd Fay go?"

Armin turned to respond, but before he could, Mikasa spoke, saying.

"I think she said she needed some fresh air, something about needing a break from all the commotion."

Eren nodded slowly, but he couldn't help but feel like something wasn't right. Mikasa was almost always right, so he didn't doubt her words, but something told him he should go check on her.

After a moment, he spoke.

"I'll be back, I'm gonna go make sure she's okay."

After making it to the rooftop, a wave of peace washed over Fay. The stars were so beautiful that night. The moon was bring and full, and the sounds of the cricket added to the feeling of it all.

She sat back against the wall of the building, sitting in a way that, if someone came out, the wouldn't see her on the roof.

She felt relaxed for the first time in years, as if a weight had temporarily been lifted off her shoulders.

Once Eren made it outside, he looked around, quickly noticing that she was no longer outside near the mess hall, so he started to look around. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes landing on the roof, wondering if she'd be up there, he started to climb the side of the building, hoping that she was indeed up there and not anywhere else.

Once Eren had made it to the top of the roof, he quickly looked around, and spotted her sat against the wall on the other side. He was relieved to see her, confirming that she was alright, he slowly walked towards her, before he spoke, trying his best not to startle her by his voice, but he just wanted to know she was okay.

"Fay?"

Fay peeled her eyes away from the stars, looking in shock to see Eren call out for her. He had barely even spoke to her in the past few years, let alone call her by her name or call out for her.

Years worth of pain came crashing down on top of her as she looked at him. The relaxation she had from being up here had vanished, leaving nothing but an anxious pit in her stomach

"Hi..." *She spoke, not sure what else to say to him. 'Why is he here? What is her doing?' kept swirling around in her head. She wanted nothing more that to run to him, hold him tightly, beg him to never hurt her again, but she knew she couldn't. She knew she had to be realistic about this. Eren hated her... there was nothing she could do about it.

The look of shock on her face didn't go unnoticed by Eren, but he pushed his thoughts away, he had came up here to make sure she was alright, so he was gonna make sure she was alright. He slowly walked towards her, until he stopped and slowly sat down in front of her. Once he was sitting in front of her, his back against the wall and his knees pulled close to his chest, he spoke, his voice coming out softer than it usually did.

"Are you okay? How did you even get up here?"

"I'm fine..." She replied, trying not to let her emotions get to her. She was trying so hard not to cry, not to start sobbing and apologise to Eren for whatever she did to make him hate her.

"I climbed up"

He looked at her closely for a moment, not fully believing her when she said she was fine. He could tell she wasn't, she was so tense, and her voice quivered ever so slightly when she spoke, making Eren certain that she was hiding something.

He slowly leaned his head back against the wall, his gaze drifting up to the stars for a moment, before it went back down to her. After a second, he spoke quietly.

"Why're you up here?"

She looked up to the stars, trying to get the comfort she got from them not even five minutes ago. The bright little specks never moved, they stayed the same way they always were. The same way she always remembered them.

"...To look at the stars..."

Eren followed her eyes as they landed on the stars. He could tell she was trying to relax herself again, just by looking at her. It didn't work, she were still so tense and he hated that fact.

Once she spoke, he looked back at her, a small sigh leaving his lips. After a moment, he spoke.

"Why do you look up at the stars so often?"

Fay kept looking at the stars, the moonlight illuminating her features, she looked so much like their mother.

"I always have loved the stars... some things just don't change"

She didn't want to tell him that the reminded her of their childhood. She didn't want to tell him that once their mom had said 'If i'm ever not with you, we'll always be under the same moon'. She didn't want to tell him she spent hours talking to the moon, hoping that her mother would hear her

Eren nodded slowly in response to her answer, his eyes watching her as the moonlight lightly illuminated your features, making her look just like their mother. It made Eren's heart ache, he hated that she looked like her, reminding him of one of the most painful things in his life.

After a second, he spoke, trying to ignore the pain that was building in his heart.

"Why did you start? Looking at the stars, I mean."

"... They were... beautiful" Fay replied slowly.

The stars always spoke to her. Not in a way of actually words, but something about them just connected to her heart. As long as she remembered, she was fascinated by the stars, how they shone so brightly, how they were a constant in her life, ever after it had been uprooted by the titans six years ago

Eren listened quietly as she spoke. He slowly craned his neck to look up at the night sky, his eyes meeting the stars above them. After a moment he spoke, his voice coming out quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Do they still feel beautiful to you? Even after everything that's happened?"

"If anything... it makes them more beautiful"

She continued to look up at the stars, noticing the patterns in the constellations, letting the cool breeze from the night air flow through her hair, creating goosebumps on her skin.

"There's one thing... that will never change. They'll always stay beautiful"

Eren listened as her as she spoke. Her words somehow both comforted him and made the pain in his heart worse. It made it worse because she was right, the stars were beautiful, and they always will be, but at the same time, hearing her say that made it hard for him to hold his feelings in. The stars were the one thing that will never change, and he knew that. He hated the fact that she was right.

"And the stars are always paired with the moon"

She spoke again, moving her head slightly to look up at the moon

"The moon is even more beautiful than the stars. It's there always, even though it changes, it still stays the same"

"Looking at the moon... always make me feel like mom is next to me. Like she's watching out, making sure i'm safe..."

She spoke again, this time, her voice getting quieter

"She said 'if i'm ever not with you, look to the moon, we'll always be under the same moon, no matter what'"

Eren listened as she spoke, his heart aching even more at her words. The memories that came up with her words and the way she spoke about them was painful. It hurt him because he knew how important those words were to her, but he felt like he couldn't be happy about it. He felt like he shouldn't be. After moments of silence, he finally spoke, his voice quiet as well.

"Do you think that she is? Watching over you, I mean."

She let out a small sigh, eyes never leaving the moon

"I'm not sure... but I'd like to tell myself that. I like to think she's with the moon and the stars..."

Eren nodded slowly again in response to her words. He felt the same way. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice slightly shaky this time.

"I... I hope she is too."

Fay blinked back the emotions threatening to come to the surface. The anxious pit in her stomach never leaving. She grabbed her necklace and started to fiddle with it. A necklace she had since the fall of Wall Maria.

Eren's eyes followed the movement of her hand as she fiddled with her necklace. He noticed that it was a necklace with something silver dangling from it. He was certain he recognised it, but he couldn't focus enough to tell what exactly it was. After a moment, he spoke quietly again.

"Where... where'd you get that necklace?"

"I've had it since the breach..."

As she spoke, Eren's eyes went wide as he recognised what the charm on the necklace was. It was his mothers wedding ring. His breath hitched as he stared at it, a wave of emotions hitting him all at once.

"You- You... have mom's wedding ring."

She blinked a couple more times, trying to keep herself from crying. As much as the memory hurt, she knew that it would be easier to explain it fully.

"When- ... when the house collapsed... and she got trapped... before you and Mikasa came to us, she took it off and gave it to me... made me promise to keep it with me, so there would always be a part of her with us"

"Do... do you keep that promise?"

She nodded, clasping her fist around the ring, holding it close to herself

"I could never break it"

Eren had to fight back tears as he looked at her clutching the ring. His heart ached more than it ever had. He hated that he couldn't bring himself to fully open up with her again. He hated that he had to hold everything in. He hated that she looked so much like their mother. Even more than that, he hated himself for never being able to talk to her the way he used to.

After a few moment, Fay let go of the ring, bringing her arms back down to hug herself. She lifted her gaze again, watching the clouds slowly float past the moon and the stars.

Eren looked at her for a moment, watching her watch the night sky. It was cold on the roof, so he slowly reached down to pull his coat off, before slowly moving over to you, and draping his coat over your shoulders.

When Fay felt his coat drop on her shoulders, she looked straight over to him, her eyes were as innocent as ever, never changing from the way she looked as a kid.

"B-but are you not cold?" She asked him. She didn't want him to get sick. Sure he was a titan, and could recover quite easily from anything, but she still worried about his well being. He is her big brother after all.

Eren sat beside her, pulling his knees close to his chest, his back resting against the wall behind him. He looked up at the night sky again, the stars shining brightly above them. After a moment, he spoke, his voice soft.

"They really are beautiful, aren't they?"

Fay just nodded, gaze fixed onto the little white and yellow specks in the sky.

"You still love the stars, just as much as when we were younger."

"More than anything..."

She kept her gaze focused on the moon, as if trying to telepathically communicate with it. As if to communicate with their mother.

Eren kept his gaze on her, watching as she focused her attention on the moon. Despite hating how she loved looking at the stars, since it reminded him of the pain he had been through, as well as the fact that she looked so much like their mother, he still found himself unable to look away. He couldn't help but love how relaxed Fay looked. It reminded him so much of when they were kids. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice barely audible.

"I remember... the way you used to point to different constellations, and show me all the stars that you knew."

"I still do that to anyone who will listen.." *She said, looking around at the sky to spot any constellations*

"Look-" She said, pointing to a group of stars "The big dipper," She pointed to a few stars then moved her hand slightly to point to more "and the little dipper"

Eren watched as she pointed to the sky, his eyes following her hand and landing on the stars she had pointed to. It brought a faint smile to his lips as memories of her doing the same thing years ago rushed into his mind. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice still coming out soft as he continued to focus on the sky.

"Which was my favourite again?"

"Draco... you said, it's cool cause it's a dragon" Fay smiled, watching the stars sparkle brightly in the night sky

Eren's eyes lit up slightly, a smile still on his lips. He remembered that night like it happened yesterday. He remembered the joy he felt when he saw the dragon constellation. He remembered how she had smiled as he rambled about it, he remembered how she had laughed at him when he tried to act scary like a dragon.

He remembered everything, and he hated the fact that he still did. He hated how it brought out such happy memories of the two of them as kids, and how she had always been his favourite person.

"My favourite was always Cygnus" Fay said, breaking the silence.

Eren turned his head to face her, his eyes landing on her, as he listened to her speak.

"That's... the swan, right?"

She nodded, turning to look at him with a small smiled.

"I'm surprised you remembered"

Eren chuckled quietly in response, before speaking.

"Of course I remembered. I remember everything we used to do when we were younger. I remember how you used to show me constellations and tell me stories about different stars. I remember the way you'd laugh at me as I tried to act like a dragon. I remember everything."

Her small smile slowly changed into a sad one, not because she was upset at what he said, but the fact he still remembered everything, but chose to abandon their bond after the fall of Wall Maria.

She quickly looked back to the stars, blinking away a few tears that were threatening to spill.

Eren went silent, a wave of guilt washing over him as he noticed the change in her mood. He knew exactly why she was suddenly sad. He knew exactly why she was struggling to hold back tears. It's because of him. It's because of his actions, and his inability to be able to be honest about everything that he felt.

He hated himself for it.

She kept staring at the stars, hoping that they would get rid of the pit in her stomach, begging them to calm her down, to not let now be the moment where she can no longer control her emotions.

Eren looked at her for a moment, his hand twitching slightly, wanting to reach over and comfort her. He ached to comfort her, to try and make up for everything he had put her through, but he knew that he couldn't. He felt as though he didn't deserve to try and comfort her.

As the silence between them both remained, Eren finally worked up the courage to speak quietly, his voice coming out shakier than he intended.

"Fay..."

"Yeah...?"

Her voice was also shaky, her eyes were glossy, tears were ready to fall at any moment. Her body was on edge, being so close to Eren after all this time, made the pit in her stomach get worse, to the point she felt physically sick. She wanted nothing more for him to explain what was going on, she'd understand, she help him. She didn't understand why he acted the way he did, why he hated her. Why couldn't he love her the way he used to?

Eren winced at the sound of her voice, he hated it. She sounded as if she was going to sob at any moment, and that thought made the ache in his chest get worse, to the point where he felt like he was suffocating. He didn't know what to say, he felt paralyzed, he hated himself more than he ever had, for making her feel so terrible. His hand that was resting on the ground twitched again, his guilt overwhelming him more by the second.

"I'm... I'm sorry..."

"h-huh?"

Those words took Fay by surprise. The two words she wanted to hear from him, the two words she begged the stars each nice for him to say. He said them. She couldn't stop, she couldn't stop the tears from slowly starting to roll down her cheeks.

As Eren watched the tears begin to fall from her eyes, his heart ached even more, and he felt as though it was shattering. He hated seeing those tears. He hated thinking that he was the reason behind them. He hated himself for hurting her the way he did.

Without thinking about his actions, Eren moved closer to Fay, slowly placing his arm around her shoulders, and pulling her closer to himself, his other arm wrapping around her waist.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to comfort her, comfort his little sister. He wanted to be there for her, be the one she could rely on, like how they were when they were kids.

Her tears kept flowing, every emotion to do with that situation was being felt tenfold. The hurt she felt from the way Eren treated her the past six years, the comfort she felt, having her big brother hug her. The words he spoke shattered her heart but at the same time, bandaged it up.

Every tear that flowed down her cheek, every sob she choked back, it shattered Eren's heart more and more. He hated how broken she was because of him. He hated the fact that he was responsible for her current emotional state.

All he could do was hold her tighter, trying to comfort her the best he could, and hoping that he wouldn't do anything else to upset her. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice still shaky.

"I'm so sorry..."

After what felt like a millennia, but was only a few minutes, Fay's sobs started to stop. She stayed clinging to Eren, not wanting this to stop, not wanting him to let go.

"...w-why? why did you... do- do you hate me Eren...?" She wanted her words to come out demanding, but they couldn't. With every word she spoke her voice trembled, cracking slightly. She just wanted answers.

He continued to keep his arms wrapped tightly around her, doing his best to comfort her.

When she asked him why, he froze. He knew exactly why. He hated admitting that he hated her, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her, so he spoke, his voice still shaky, and barely audible.

"I- I don't... hate you..."

"... then why Eren...?" Her voice breaking with every word.

Eren knew exactly what she was referring to. The years of glares, the years of ignoring her, pretending she didn't exist. Shouting at her when she came near. Even some 'it should have been you, not mom' comments were said before they joined the military.

He knew logically, it was irrational to blame Fay for their mother's death. But he couldn't get it out of his head. If Fay wasn't at home, their mom would've made it out of the house. She wouldn't have had to protect Fay, and in the process get herself trapped.

Eren felt his heartbreak completely as she continued to ask him why. He hated the fact that he had to answer. He hated that he had to tell her why he ignored her and acted like he hated her for the past six years.

His arms remained wrapped around her as he went silent for a moment. He tried to form the words to explain why, but his mind wouldn't allow him to.

"You... you wouldn't understand..."

"I'm... I'm sure I would... there has to be a reason, right?" She still had tears flowing, but they were after calming down. Her voice was still shaky, but somehow came out soft and understanding, the care that she had for her brother was never lost.

"...please... just tell me Eren..."

She begged, she needed to know why. She needed to know what she had done wrong to lose her brother's love.

Eren hated the way she begged him to tell her. The sound of it made his heart ache, even more than it already was. He hated to admit it, but he hated hearing her beg. He hated how badly she wanted to be loved by him. He hated how much he wanted to tell her everything, but he knew that it would only make things worse.

As he held onto her tighter, he spoke again, his voice still shaky and quiet, but he managed to get his words out.

"It's because of... because of mom..."

When he said that, she pulled back to sit up, wiping her tears from her eyes. She looked at him, a confused look plastered on her face.

"M-mom...? I... i don't understand..."

She spoke, her voice soft and quiet. He hate her because of what happened to mom? But... why?

She watched him for a moment, watching his body language, the look of guilt in his eyes. Her face changed slightly, the look of confusion morphing to one of understand with a mix of hurt.

"...wait... do- do you... do you blame me...?"

Eren hated the confusion in her voice. He hated how she were trying to piece things together to figure out why he acted the way he did towards her. He hated how her face slowly changed from confusion to one with understanding and pain, and he hated how all he could do was look down and nod, confirming that he did blame her.

She looked away from him, looking back up to the stars. She wasn't surprised, she had guessed all this time he held some resentment against her for being saved by their mother, causing their mom to lose her life.

"... that... makes sense"

She kept her gaze in the stars. Watching the twinkling white and yellow lights.

"... you're not alone in blaming me..."

“What… what do you mean?”

"... I blame myself too..."

Those simple words came out like something she had said a million times before. It was something that played in her head over and over and over again since the death of their mother. If she wasn't there, if she could have ran like her mother told her too... their mother would still be alive.

She didn't move and inch, keeping her steady gaze in the stars. In her head, all that was playing; it is your fault, all your fault.

Eren's eyes widened as he listened to her words. The fact that she admitted to blaming herself was what shattered his heart the most. He hated how casually she said it, as though she had said those words before. He hated that she had held this guilt over herself for years, and he hated how much he wished he could have been able to talk to her about it years ago.

His chest ached as he spoke quietly.

"Why...? Why do you blame yourself...?"

She took a deep breath, before turning her head to look at him.

"... probably the same reason you blame me"

He looked at her, his eyes locking with her own. He hated how she knew the reason, but more than anything, he hated how he found himself unable to deny what she said.

Eren was silent for a moment, before finally speaking again, his voice coming out quiet and shaky.

"Yea..."

"...yea.."

She turned back to the night sky, watching the deep blues and purples mix together beautifully.

"... i'm not upset you blame me though... I understand why you do..."

“You do…?”

She nodded, glancing back to him, a soft comforting smile on her lips.

"...of course I do..."

Eren hated that she smiled at him as she spoke, that soft comforting smile of hers. He hated the comforting feeling he felt from that smile, that he didn't deserve from her. He hated how badly he wanted to hold onto that smile. He hated how much he ached to hug her, to be able to make up for everything he put her through.

"Fay..."

Eren couldn't find the words to say anything else. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to make it right, didn't know how to make up for how he treated her for the past six years. He felt stuck. He hated how badly he wanted to cry, to break down, to let her see just how much pain he truly felt. He hated the feeling of helplessness, and he hated himself for being unable to say anything more.

Fay took another deep breath, attempting to get her emotions in check, she wanted to stop crying, she wanted things to go back to normal.

"As... as long as you're sorry... that's the main thing... right?"

“Yea… that's the main thing…” Eren replied, looking up to the sky, the same dark blue sky they used to watch as kids.

She gave him another smile, before looking back at the stars and taking a deep breath.

"Well... it's getting late, we should both head to bed.." She said, stretching out her limbs, and getting up. She put a hand out from him to take, to help him up.

He only nodded, grabbing your hand and standing up.

"Yea... it is getting late..."

"See you at breakfast"

She gave him another smile, walking over to the edge of the roof, before quickly hopping down back to the ground and walking off towards the women's barracks.

She climbed down the old brick wall, feeling the sharp little rock's dig into the pads of her fingers. She landed on the floor, the hard gravel crunching under each foot.

Fay walked off, her steps starting slow and casual, but as she neared the barracks, she sped up. Walking quickly, wanting to get into her bed and sleep the whole night off.

The night went by agonisingly slow, Fay was barely able to get an hour of good sleep. Her mind was plagued by the confirmation Eren did really blame her for their mother's death.

But… at least he finally apologised.

[fatteningfeeder]

BlondieBBW

Madison’s parents had always kept her on a strict diet, encouraging her to stay active with dance and cheerleading. While she tried to meet their expectations, she felt an undeniable pull toward indulgence. By her junior year of high school, Madison couldn’t ignore the cravings any longer. She started sneaking snacks, reveling in the fullness that followed each secret binge. Little by little, her slim, toned frame began to soften, her clothes becoming tighter. She loved every new curve, every extra inch, secretly thrilled to see her body filling out.

By the time she graduated high school, Madison weighed in at 160 pounds—a solid 40 pounds heavier than she’d been before she started sneaking treats. Her parents noticed but only assumed it was “senior year stress” and tried to coax her back into healthy habits. Inside, Madison was buzzing with excitement. Once I’m in college, I’ll be free to really let go, she told herself. This was only the beginning.

College was everything Madison had hoped for. With no one to monitor her eating, she dove headfirst into a world of unlimited options. The dining halls became her haven, and she was no longer limited by portion control or healthy choices. Every meal became an opportunity to indulge, and she quickly established a nightly ritual of “study snacks”—burgers, fries, pizzas, and heaps of dessert.

Her body eagerly took on the extra calories. By mid-semester, her clothes clung tightly around her growing belly and hips. Her jeans pinched uncomfortably, and her tops no longer fit quite right. She felt secretly thrilled whenever she had to adjust her waistband or pull down her shirt to cover her softening stomach. She could see and feel herself getting bigger, each change in her body filling her with pride.

By Thanksgiving, Madison had already outgrown many of her clothes. When she returned home for the holiday, her parents were surprised to see how much she’d changed. She wore oversized sweaters to hide her curves, but in the privacy of her room, she marveled at how her body was beginning to transform. She documented her journey online under the name “BlondieBBW,” sharing photos and stories with a community that encouraged her to keep growing.

Sophomore year brought even more indulgence. By now, Madison had developed a serious appetite and craved heavier, richer foods. She often treated herself to extra-large portions, ordering late-night pizzas, milkshakes, and fries, relishing the comforting weight of a full belly. Her body was changing rapidly; her thighs now brushed together with each step, and her belly hung over her waistband when she sat down.

Madison’s friends noticed her growing figure and playfully teased her about her increased appetite. She had started wearing leggings and oversized shirts exclusively, her old jeans far too tight to fit. Each wardrobe upgrade felt like a victory. After one particularly heavy meal with friends, she stood up only to hear a sharp pop—the button on her jeans had flown across the room. Embarrassed but thrilled, she shared the story online, her followers cheering her on with every update.

Over winter break, while she was home for the holidays, she met a new friend online—a guy named George who also went to her college and shared her excitement for gaining. They began chatting daily, sharing stories about their love for food and the thrill of seeing her body grow. George seemed genuinely fascinated by her journey, and he encouraged her to keep going. “Once we’re back on campus, let’s hang out,” he suggested one night. Madison’s heart raced at the thought. Someone who actually gets it, she thought. She couldn’t wait.

When spring semester started, Madison and George planned to meet up at her dorm. She was nervous but excited; no one else had ever supported her desires so openly. When George arrived, he greeted her with a warm smile and a large pizza box in one hand and a liter of soda in the other.

“I brought a little snack,” he teased, setting the box down in front of her. Madison’s eyes lit up, and she quickly made herself comfortable, eagerly opening the pizza box. She started eating with gusto, savoring each cheesy slice as George watched, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

As she devoured the pizza, George would occasionally encourage her, smiling as he said, “Don’t stop now—you’re doing great.” Madison felt her cheeks flush with excitement, the attention only making her more eager to finish every last bite. When she’d polished off the entire pizza, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh, placing her hand on her bloated stomach. Her belly was full, stretching the fabric of her shirt tightly. George handed her the liter of soda, encouraging her to take long gulps until the bottle was empty, the carbonation making her feel even fuller.

Once she was finished, George moved closer, resting his hand on her rounded belly. He began to massage her stomach gently, his touch sending a shiver through her. “Look at you,” he murmured. “You’ve really let yourself grow, haven’t you?”

Madison felt her cheeks grow warm, loving every second of his attention. “I have,” she replied softly, her voice filled with pride. George’s hands continued to knead her belly, and she could feel the pressure easing the tension from her full stomach. Each touch felt like validation—a reminder of how far she’d come and how much she had changed.

“Let’s see how you look in one of my shirts,” he suggested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He dug into his bag and pulled out a fitted medium shirt, tossing it to her. Madison struggled to pull the shirt over her head, the fabric clinging to her body in ways her loose clothes never did. The shirt barely reached her belly button, her round stomach bulging out underneath, and her arms felt restricted by the tight sleeves.

George chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Looks like you’ve definitely outgrown this size,” he teased, giving her belly a playful poke. Madison giggled, feeling a rush of excitement at how snugly the shirt fit. She caught her reflection in the mirror, marveling at how much she’d filled out since the start of college. She tugged at the hem of the shirt, only for it to spring back, unable to cover her full belly.

Her confidence soared with every teasing comment, and she felt more determined than ever to keep growing. The encouragement from George only fueled her desire to see just how big she could become.

By the time junior year rolled around, Madison was 220 pounds and loving her new lifestyle. George had become a regular part of her life, often joining her for late-night food runs and even surprising her with treats when she least expected it. Their friendship deepened with every shared meal, and Madison’s appetite only grew with his encouragement. She would often polish off double portions, relishing the fullness in her belly as George watched with pride.

Her body had changed drastically. Her belly had grown into a heavy, soft dome that rested on her lap when she sat, and her thighs were thick enough to rub together with each step. She could feel the weight of her body with every move, and even simple tasks like climbing stairs left her slightly out of breath. But each physical strain was a reminder of how far she’d come.

Shopping for clothes had become a regular affair. She now wore 2X sizes, her leggings and oversized shirts accommodating her expanding figure. She loved seeing how her belly pressed out against the fabric, a constant reminder of the journey she was on. When she tried on smaller clothes just for fun, she’d call George, showing him how tightly the fabric clung to her curves. Each time, he’d laugh, playfully teasing her about how quickly she was outgrowing her wardrobe.

Her stretch marks had become more pronounced, pink lines stretching across her belly, hips, and thighs. She felt a strange sense of pride whenever she noticed a new one, knowing it was a visible marker of her progress. She shared updates with her followers, who encouraged her to keep going, cheering her on as her body continued to grow.

By senior year, Madison had reached 280 pounds. Her body had become everything she’d dreamed of—soft, round, and full. George remained by her side, her biggest supporter, often challenging her to finish larger meals and laughing as she did so with enthusiasm. Every meal was an event, an opportunity for Madison to push her limits further.

Her belly had grown so large that it rested comfortably on her lap, her thighs pressing against the edges of chairs, and her arms brushing her sides as she moved. Walking across campus was now a challenge, each step leaving her slightly out of breath, but even this felt like an accomplishment.

On the last day of college, George surprised her with one final treat—a massive feast to celebrate her journey. She ate with gusto, savoring every bite until her belly was stretched tight and her clothes strained against her curves. When she finally stood up, feeling the weight of her body, she looked over at George, a grateful smile on her face.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” she said, resting her hand on her swollen belly. George grinned, giving her a playful poke. “You did all the hard work,” he replied, laughing. “I just got to enjoy the show.”