#you are inviting nitpicks

[femmefataleapologist]

fanfic writer psa: If you are going to use a number to describe a character's weight, first google how much people weigh. Because I have yet to see a number that isn't off by like. 30 pounds at least. I once saw a fic describe Izzy Hands as 110lbs soaking wet and bestie, my five foot zero aunt weighs more than that. Aziraphale is not 150. In no universe does he weigh less than me, a skinny 20something who is shorter than him. Ya'll please

[bonefall]

Have you ever heard of Pixel Cats End? If you're into petsite games you might want to check it out, especially since it's just celebrating the end of beta.

I played it! It's ok!

Honestly it's a bit too "soft" for me in terms of its site tone. Accumulating a lot of cats is too easy, and in spite of having some great mechanics related to feeding your village, building infrastructure, and a fantastic relationship system, it feels like there's no consequences to anything. No one gets sick, friendships don't fall apart, there's no way to lose cats without intentionally getting rid of them, etc.

Plus, its breeding system isn't super compelling to me, because it mostly used realistic genetics. It's not like FR or later Lioden where there's a ton of crazy markings, bases, colors, and breeds. When I played PCE, it was pretty standard cats with very normal colors and markings.

Which is a shame because I LOVED how it decoupled the breeding from standard Male/Female pairings. I'd never seen that done before.

THAT SAID I'm absolutely positive that this is all a Me-Thing. I'm sure these same reasons it didn't really land with me is the same reasons why people love it so much. Most people aren't Me who likes Lioden explicitly because the lions die lmao.

[foxdies]

stop commenting weird shit on my art that's literally captioned vent art

[im-still-learning-too]

i also hate confrontation so i understand why people don't do this to other ppl but i beg people to try to poke holes in my ideologies if they want to talk about it !! pls !! initiate a friendly argument i beg of u.... its so mentally stimulating <3 /gen

[nientedal]

Of course it isn't "designed to rework" anything. Generative AI is generative. It generates its own new output based on user inputs and whatever parameters and restrictions you (JSTOR) build into your tool-- but it generates that new output in ways humans can understand by training on & pulling from vast datasets of stolen information. It builds sandcastles all its own, every single grain of which was stolen from a person. There is no ethical workaround for this. We were not asked, we were not paid; neither OpenAI nor their contemporaries gave us the opportunity to have our words and works excluded from their datasets.

Generative AI is trained on hundreds of billions of points of scraped data encoded into "tokens" comprehensible to its algorithms. To give you an idea of scale, GPT-3's text datasets included 3 billion tokens from Wikipedia. 86 billion came from three other sources, and a whopping 410 billion tokens came from the 501(c)(3) nonprofit CommonCrawl, which completes Nutch crawls on a regular basis. I believe that until recently, the petabytes of data in CommonCrawl's sets and archives (which are available to the public despite containing copyrighted work, under fair use claims) were mostly used for research, corporate datamining, and what I'll call "targeted" app development-- people using specific subsets of the data. GPT-3 and GPT-3.5's training data, however, is all-encompassing, and it is being used to generate enormous profit across multiple industries for OpenAI Global. You, JSTOR, are not profiting directly off of this-- I assume-- but you're using GPT3.5 Turbo at least in part, so OpenAI very definitely is.

(Anyone remotely familiar with fair use should immediately see the problem here. Not with JSTOR specifically, to be clear. But overall.)

I understand the attractive opportunities arising as this technology develops. I understand JSTOR'S need to stay competitive. I understand perfectly why JSTOR is developing this tool, and based on a brief review of your FAQ, it seems like it is designed to work with a minimum of hallucinations. If I'm reading between the lines correctly, you're basically trying to make this into the conversational search engine many people already believe LLMs to be. Well done. You also reassure that you will not replace humans. Good!

But that's only part of the puzzle. The use of generative AI at this time is unethical at its core. You do seem committed to using AI responsibly, as you claim...but to use something like this ethically simply is not possible using current tools and methods. The data in the sets upon which OpenAI's tools are built and trained does not belong to them; to use it for profit is fundamentally unethical. I am sorry.

I would remove "ethical" from future assurances. Replace it with "conscientious," perhaps. Or "as ethically as possible." I do not know that I would call that better, since it's a fundamentally empty reassurance, but at least it would no longer be a factual impossibility.

Like I said, I fully understand why you're developing this tool. I'm not going to tell you you shouldn't. But I will tell you flat-out: You can "commit" as hard as you like to building your sandcastle ethically. You won't make the sand any less stolen.

Why is JSTOR using AI? AI is deeply environmentally harmful and steals from creatives and academics.

Thanks for your question. We recognize the potential harm that AI can pose to the environment, creatives, and academics. We also recognize that AI tools, beyond our own, are emerging at a rapid rate inside and outside of academia.

We're committed to leveraging AI responsibly and ethically, ensuring it enhances, rather than replaces, human effort in research and education. Our use of AI aims to provide credible, scholarly support to our users, helping them engage more effectively with complex content. At this point, our tool isn't designed to rework content belonging to creatives and academics. It's designed to allow researchers to ask direct questions and deepen their understanding of complex texts.

Our approach here is a cautious one, mindful of ethical and environmental concerns, and we're dedicated to ongoing dialogue with our community to ensure our AI initiatives align with our core values and the needs of our users. Engagement and insight from the community, positive or negative, helps us learn how we might improve our approach. In this way, we hope to lead by example for responsible AI use.

For more details, please see our Generative AI FAQ.

[sapphoslibrary]

i spent 3 days alone with my grandma and came out with 5 new insecurities and a brand new understanding of narcissistic personality disorder

[iid-smile]

ino is in a constant state of trying to impress you. worryingly so as well, like it's a natural occurrence from just being around you.

when you first met, ino's hands were sweating like crazy. he was indeed beyond nervous, his mind and body fumbling around not knowing what to do. show of his strength? make you laugh? or... just be nice? he doesn't want to be friendzoned! and there's not really anything in particular about him that girls would swoon over. he's just an average guy, and he feels you're way out of his league. doesn't stop him from trying though.

and ino gets so concerned the first time he meets a guy friend of yours. this mystery guy is just bigger in every single way, height, charisma, muscles, which immediately makes him feel insecure. he'll nitpick at all of your interactions with this guy, trying to look for signs that the two of you could be more than friends. his stare is near unsettling, and it's so clear and obvious when he feels you're just sat a little too close, or getting a little too touchy. he's an easy guy to read.

he needs a plan. ino starts inviting you to go to places with him more often, knowing that there's something he can do that he excels at. it'll be just a coincidence at the gym that he can lift your body weight on bars as if he's picking up a feather. it'll just be a coincidence at the skate park that he managed to land an extremely difficult skateboard trick. it'll be just a coincidence that he saves you from a cursed spirit while he's walking you home at night. surely you've got to take the hint at some point, right?

his world stops when you finally start dating him. he'd spend all of his money within the first three months, and he was broke for weeks. he wanted to treat you sooo well. the poor guy's always doing his best to attend to your needs, even though it's usually the other way around. ino treats you like a princess— no, a queen, and genuinely considers you so. you tell him to get something for you, he'll sprint and retrieve it in a heartbeat. you tell him not to go on a mission, he's already on the phone, telling nanami that he's "too sick". carry you to the moon and back, he will, as long as you ask him to. he just loves you too much.

[blissfullyecho]

My 2025 Resolutions List

Pre-New Years Resolutions (Nov/Dec 2024)

MY TIP: I think it’s important to establish pre-new year resolutions to get the momentum going for the new year. The best way to go about it is to look at your NY resolutions first, then see what you can do beforehand to prepare and those would be your Pre-New Years Resolutions

1. Prioritize Health + Fitness: Commit to a consistent fitness routine that enhances my body and confidence. I’m going to achieve this by attending 4-5 fitness sessions per week, stay disciplined with a healthy eating plan (with holiday plate exceptions), and setting physical milestones (like weighing X amount of lbs by 1/1/25)

2. Personal Branding Solid Foundation: Get clear on what personal brand I’d like to create for myself and indulge heavily in content and experiences that embody this ideal image I have for myself. I’ll achieve this by constantly checking in with myself by asking “is this on-brand with who I’d like to become?���

3. Build my Luxury Sales Career: ***For the record, I’m in luxury real estate (I’m licensed in 2 states) and international yacht sales.*** I’d like to grow on social media with my business accounts and reach my accounts to 400,000 across all of my BUSINESS platforms (right now I have a little over 350,000 followers)

2025 New Years Resolutions

1. Keep every promise I make to myself if it’s going to benefit me. I’ll make changes if something better comes along

2. Start taking reformer Pilates on a more regular basis

3. Get my desired hair length without extensions

4. Get back into coed stunting/tumbling (I was a cheerleader all my life and still love it in my 20s)

5. No more blackout nights when I drink (embarrassing but I’m such a lightweight)

6. Get back down to 110-115lbs

7. Start dating again, but dating guys that actually meet my standards and not settling because I’m bored or feeling lonely

8. Make the most $ I’ve ever made annually

9. Start fresh with my personal social media and keep my IG followers to under 10,000 (for those of you who don’t know or are new, my personal TikTok has over 1M followers and my IG is close to 800K). The issue is that I have more male followers than I do women and I want to change my IG to friends/family/acquantances/brands/women. I don’t even get paid all that much on IG anymore but TikTok I do so that’ll stay.

10. Break the habit of buying a sweet treat every single day

11. Lower my A1C to under 4.8 (it’s at 5.0 rn)

12. Practice buying quality, no matter the price point. I should be able to afford what I want if I hit my annual income goal.

13. Move to (a different city local to me) in downtown and live at (one of the new high rises they are building)

14. Become more photogenic without nitpicking every single thing about me with each picture I take— this also goes hand in hand with no longer using filters on my photos or making any changes

15. Renew my passport (I’ve been extremely lazy to do so) and travel more. My goal is to travel at least 3 times AT LEAST out of state, preferably out of country if time/work allows

16. Get close with God again. He is the only reason I got to where I am today and then I fell off.

17. Prioritize in taking care of myself and treating myself like a princess. I should always be checking in with myself by asking “is this on-brand with who I’m becoming?” and act accordingly.

18. Start going out more— go to more events, dinners, say yes to invites more, date. I’d like to increase my social calendar to at least once a week. By the end of the year, I’d like to be social at least 3-4x per week.

19. Reset my gut health and actually feel like I’m in my 20s and not in my 90s

20. Become completely unbothered and know when to emotionally detach (or avoid attachment altogether— seriously)

21. Stop oversharing… being exclusive with information about me/my life

22. Don’t dream big, but dream bigger

23. Stop being so trusting and forgiving— HUGE lesson I learned in 2024.

I’m sure I’ll be adding to this list. But any personal posts regarding my own rebrand and level up will be under the hashtag on my blog #2025. I will constantly be updating from now until the end of 2025.

[lqveharrington]

You Look Beautiful | V.

summary: Alastor introduces you to Vox, leading to an unforgettable experience with your father.

pairing: vox x lucifer’s daughter!reader

includes: drinking, fluff, VALENTINO, secret relationships, awkward flirting, lucifer being an overprotective father, lucifer also being lucifer, that’s basically it (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: this takes place before Vox upgrades to a flat screen TV and before Alastor leaves for his seven year absence. Also, you’re older than charlie 🤗

Being Lucifer Morningstar’s first daughter was something else. Especially when your mother left. When she left, your father fell into deep depression which left you with paperwork to fulfill from other sins and left you with the responsibility of watching over your younger sister. Having to take over both your mother and father’s royal duties was getting to you, so no wonder you resorted to occasional clubbing with your friends.

“Husk!” You enveloped the demon cat in your arms, earning a noise of complaint. “Rude.”

“I don’t take affection lightly.” He patted your back awkwardly and let you settle into the booth with him. “What took you so long?”

You roll your eyes, “Charlie wanted to invite the stupid Von Eldritch boy over. I at least had to set some ground rules.”

“She’ll disobey them.” Husk shook his head and ordered a whiskey. “You know her.”

“Yeah yeah.” You wave him off and order your own drink, tapping your nails against your flip phone. “Do you know if Alastor’s here yet?”

“Why, I would like to believe I’m here, darling.” The Radio Demon formed in front of you. Husk muttered something toward your direction, Alastor’s grin sharpening at the action. “I’ve brought along some acquaintances if you don’t mind.”

You look up before sipping your drink. “Yeah, what you’ve brought is a doll, a moth, and a tv— Ow.” You rubbed your arm where Husk jabbed you, glaring at him.

Your eyes drifted toward the three demons Alastor brought with him, tilting your head at the height differences. You learned that the shortest amongst them was Velvette. Out of the three of them, she seemed to be the one with the most fashion sense as she nitpicked everyone else’s clothing in the establishment. Her accent was heavy, leaving you to wonder what she said half of the time.

“Oh god, that bitch is wearing wrist ruffles! Someone burn it.” She spoke in distaste at the demon.

“Vel, she’s already wasted, don’t give her any more ideas.” The moth blew out pink smoke, watching the young demon stumble across the dance floor.

For a moth, he was the tallest demon between the three of them, towering over everyone even while sitting. He introduced himself to be Valentino… The porn demon. He gave you goosebumps from sitting across you. And for being the princess of hell, that means a lot. He seemed to be eyeing all the younger demons, his single gold tooth flashing when he grinned at them.

“Val, come dance with me.” Velvette dragged him out of the booth, not waiting for a response. “Voxy, you’re welcome to join.”

You shifted your gaze over to the TV demon, watching him politely decline the offer. He definitely kept you guessing. When you first saw him, he was reserved and only spoke to those he came with. However, he eventually started to loosen up, taking shots with Valentino. And for a demon with a TV box for a head, he was quite interesting.

“You’re not gonna dance?” You stir your red straw in your drink, catching the demon’s attention. “It seemed like Velvette wanted you to join them.”

“Dancing with big crowds isn’t my thing.” He swirled a claw over the rim of his glass and met your eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Your eyes drift over to Husk ordering another whiskey at the bar, Alastor hot on his tail.

“Why aren’t you dancing?”

“I wasn’t up to it, but now that you mention it—“ You tilted your head back and downed your drink, not noticing the glitching TV beside you. “—You have to come dancing with me.”

“I don’t think—“

You click your tongue, pushing your drink away. “Just one song? If you don’t want to, you can leave when we get there.” You take his hand and pout, using the face your father gave you to make it more convincing. “Please?”

He huffed but let you drag him to the dance floor, moving his hand to your hip when you hit the center of the huge crowd. “You know, I’m starting to think he just invited me out to be more social with his friends.”

“Al and I are barely friends, but how is that working out for you?” You question as the red light glares against your skin.

He shrugged as his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Depends on how well I’ve been talking to the people he introduced me to.” He tugged you closer to you when drunk demons pushed against your body. “Do you even remember my name?”

You open your mouth but promptly shut it, cheeks flushed at the confrontation. “I know it! I just… Don’t want to say it.”

“Holy shit, you don’t know my name.” He spun you in his arms, smirking at your pink face. “It’s Vox, by the way.”

“I knew that.” You say with a teasing tone, laughing when he dipped you. “I bet you don’t know my name.”

Your name fell from his mouth smoothly, making you scoff in annoyance. “I believe everyone knows who you are, princess.”

You avoided his gaze after the nickname spilled out of his lips. Sure, you were called princess multiple times by many demons. But the way Vox said it made butterflies appear in your stomach, a different kind of goosebumps appearing across your skin.

As the song came to an end, you learned a lot more about the TV demon in front of you within those last six minutes than you learned from Husk in the last two years. Returning to your booth, your phone vibrated in your pocket as you excused yourself from your company. Charlie’s name lit up your screen, making you curse.

You went back over to the booth to find Vox covering your unfinished drink with his hand, glancing at his own phone. “Hey, I have to go. Sorry for cutting our discussion short. My sister called and—“

“Don’t worry! It’s not an issue! Your family is clearly important sooo…” Vox rubbed the back of his neck, tugging at the turtleneck. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” You look back up at him after shooting a text to Charlie.

His screen turned pink as your attention went back to him, all confidence leaving his system. “I was wondering if you would like to meet up again. Sometime? Not in a club possibly?”

Your face warms at his words, at a loss for your own response. “Uh.. Yes! Of course, let me just get your contact info.”

“Right!” He felt the inside of his jacket for a pen, taking your hand a scribbling down his number. “Just give me a call whenever you can.”

You smiled at how fast he switched from confident to shy within seconds. “Of course.”

“Oh my god.” You mumble as you watch your father converse with the store’s employees animatedly, rubbing your temples at the sight.

Charlie snickered at your expression as he summoned a rubber duck he was working on. “You can’t tell me you weren’t expecting this when we went out today.”

“No, I knew.” You turn away from your father’s embarrassing encounter and flick through different dresses on the rack behind you instead. “I think knowing this would happen made it a hundred times worse.”

Since Lilith left, Lucifer took it upon himself to treat his daughters out to buy their own clothing at least once a month. He just always got distracted by showing other demons his creations.

“Char, do you think I could pull this off?” You pull a dress from the rack and put it against yourself, staring at the mirror with your nail between your teeth. You quite liked it, but you weren’t sure if you would wear it more than once—

“Personally, I think you would look amazing.” A voice that was distinctly not Charlie came from your left.

You whipped your head over as your face reddened at the TV demon. “Shut up, Vox.”

“I’m serious! You would look great in that.” He fully came into your view, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”

Humming, you walk back over to the rack and examine the rest of the dresses, Vox close behind. “My dad wanted to take Charlie and I out.” You glanced up at him when you pulled out a maroon dress, silently asking for his opinion. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, this is Velvette’s own designer store.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting toward the sign that had his business partner’s name under it. “She sent me to check on the stock or something.”

“Did you?” You question as you scan over the prices on the dresses, clicking your tongue. “Check on whatever she needs you to check on, I mean?”

He shrugged, “You distracted me, princess.”

You flush pink again at the name, bumping him with your hip. “Go do your job, Vox.”

“It’s not my fault I saw you!”

“Yes, it is!” You tease with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I’m an innocent bystander—“

Charlie rounded the corner of the store looking for you, eyes brightening when seeing your figure. “Hey, dad’s asking for you— Oh!” You and Vox separated swiftly, eyes wide at the young Morningstar. “Uh, am I.. interrupting something? Orrr…?”

“No no, you’re fine, Charlie.” Your face remained warm, not meeting your sister’s eyes. An awkward silence filled the room before Vox cleared his throat, making you spring into action. “Right! Charlie, this is Vox. Vox, Charlie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie.” Vox gave her a polite smile, squeezing your hip. “Your sister talks a lot about you.

Charlie practically glowed at the confession, looking over at you for confirmation. “It’s nice to meet you as well!” She glanced at the two of you in suspicion. “I’m sorry to cut your… Meeting? Uh, short, but our dad needs her…”

Vox squeezed your hip one last time before pressing a quick kiss to your temple, soft static emitting from the spot. “I’ll text you later.”

“Bye.” You give him a lovesick look as you nod, walking over to a grinning Charlie.

“Soooo…” Charlie looked back, watching the TV demon’s screen become crimson with small electric hearts appearing. “Who was that?”

“Vox.”

She rolled her eyes at your bluntness, “Okay, obviously! But who is he?”

You fiddle with the hangers in your arms, not meeting her eyes. “He’s a guy… That I’m seeing… Currently…”

“Oh. My. Gosh!” She squeezed your arm with excitement, bouncing with every step. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s super exciting!”

“I didn’t want Dad to find out.” You shake your head at the thought. “He’s been a bit overprotective with who we hang out with recently.”

Speak of the devil, he’ll appear.

“GIRLS! COME MEET THIS NICE YOUNG WOMAN!”

You and Charlie looked at each other while wincing, slowly approaching your father.

“Charlie!” You yell from your bathroom, rushing over to your walk-in closet. You sift through your dresses, looking for the maroon dress.

“What?” She yelled from your bedroom, giving KeeKee stomach rubs.

Swiftly, you snatch the dress off the hanger and run back over to the bathroom, throwing your towel over the shower and slipping into the dress. “Can you run downstairs and make sure Dad doesn’t open the door? Vox is coming to pick me up—“

“Why can’t you do it?” She groaned, flopping down onto your bed

“Because I’m not done dressing!” Your eyes flash red in annoyance with small horns poking out of your head as you peek over at the young demon. “The staff has the day off today because it’s the end of the month, and I really don’t want Dad to open the door.”

Charlie muttered something incoherent before leaving the room, KeeKee right by her heels. To be fair, you were a little rude, but you had the right to be. You were terrified for your father to meet Vox. Not that Vox was horrible, but your father's protectiveness started to rise much faster these last couple of months. As you were finishing up your makeup, your phone rang, followed by a groan coming out of your mouth.

“Hello?” You picked up your phone, slipping on your red heels and gold jewelry.

“Hi, princess.” Vox’s voice came through the cellular device, making you smile.

“Are you here already?” You glance at the clock in your room and curse at the time, running down the stairs.

He chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, but uhm, your dad looks like he’s gonna kill me.”

“Fuck, okay, give me a second.” You shut your phone and open a portal to the front door instead of running all the way down to the foyer. “Hey, Dad!”

“Sweetie, who the hell is this guy?” Lucifer glared at the TV demon. Vox buffered at the comment, embarrassment filling his system.

You wedge yourself in between the two, whispering an apology to Vox. “Dad, this is Vox. Vox, my dad..”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Morningstar.” Vox offered his hand but slowly lowered it as he received no reaction.

“Uh-huh.” Lucifer looked at him up and down. “And who exactly is he?”

You hold the urge to laugh at how similar Charlie was to your father but snap back to reality when you hear Vox’s fans turn on.

“He’s my…” You glance back at the demon behind you before down at your father, linking your hands with Vox’s. “Vox is my boyfriend.”

“Your what now?” He stared at you with wide eyes, gaze shifting from the now bright pink demon to his darling daughter.

“My boyfriend.” You say again with more assurance. “We’ve been together a bit after Alastor introduced us—“

“The radio demon?” Lucifer made a face of disgust. “Okay, well you can come back inside the house and you—“ He pushed Vox out while pulling you in. “—Can leave my property.”

“Dad!” You tug Vox back to your side, apologizing once more for your father’s actions. “I’m going out with him tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon. He’s associated with the stupid radio—“

“I’m friends with Alastor!” Your eyes flash red again but calmed once Vox squeezes your hand. You blink before speaking again, taking a deep breath. “Listen, can I just go out? I’ll be back later.”

Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple. “You’re happy? He makes you happy?”

You nod while smiling up at Vox, “Very.”

“And you’ll watch over her?” He looked over at Vox, brow raised at the demon.

“Yes, sir.” Vox squeezed your hand again.

He bit back any words of annoyance and gave a strained smile to the both of you. “Have fun on your date, sweetheart.”

You grinned and pulled him in for a hug, “Thank you! Love you!”

“Alright, just be back by midnight.” He flicked his hand which set a timer over the doorway. “Be safe.”

“We will!” You take Vox’s hand again and drag him away from the door. “That was easy.”

Vox furrowed his brows at your statement, wrapping his arm around your hip. “For you, maybe. He looked like he wanted to murder me.”

You shrug your shoulders, “You’ll get used to it.” You give him a proper look, tugging at his tie when you thought you were far enough from your father’s gaze. “You look handsome as always.”

“You look…” He pulled you close by the waist, smirking as you flushed red. “Beautiful.”

You push up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips, hands coming up to the sides of his screen. He hummed and pulled you closer, thumbs rubbing circles by your hip.

“HEY! BACK UP, BUDDY!” Lucifer yelled from the door, full demon form out on display.

You chuckle when Vox glitches, patting his chest. “Sorry, handsome.”

“STAY TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn around and let your own demon form come out. “DAD!”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[kettles-posts]

"Perfect"

A/N:

-fyi guys, It's not spell checked, so please ignore any mistakes. <3

John Price x Reader

"Y'real lucky Cap, got y'self the perfect bird, dont' ya'?"

John rolled his eyes and clicked his tounge in annoyance, he had invited the rest of 141 over for dinner before going out to the pub down the street because he wanted to properly introduce you all.

Now, they had heard of you briefly in casual conversation and vice versa however they never met you, not formally at least, perhaps seeing each other in the halls of the base (when you can to drop of Price's lunch he so ~conveniently~ forgot about) but nothing more than that.

What the great John Price himself didn't forshadow was the way all of his team would fawn over you, yeah you were a doll, HIS doll, he was quickly getting annoyed by the amount of compliments they were giving you, Gaz's especially, so he did the onlybthing he knew to do, deflect.

"The lass has dolled her self up because we have company, normally shes slouching 'round the house, Gaz, they only ever looked like this in the begining, ya know, so dont let yourself be fooled, y'know how the girls are these days,"

What he didn't account for in his little outburst was the effect his words would have on you, who was waiting outside the door...

-----------------------------------------

You had always had problems with your looks, always feeling inferior, comparing yourself to others never feeling enough. It was a habit that stemmed from your mother, and her constant need to nitpick at everything little thing about you.

It then progressed to your constant need to be "perfect". To always look presentable no matter who or what was going to be there. A full face of makeup, hair done, and outfit hiding whatever you deemed to be the "problem" parts of you today.

You never trusted anyone enough to show yourself in these moments where you didn't deem yourself to be presentable enough. Always terrified of being judged or ridiculed by someone else just like you did yourself. Always terrified that someone would validate your fears of not being enough.

Thats why when John had first asked you out you thought he was joking, you looked around trying to find his group of friends snickering between themselves. You didn't, of course, but that still didn't stop your hesitation, nor did your hesitation stop his determination.

I mean can you blame him? You were gorgeous standing there in the grocery line looking like the perfect little house wife, sweet and kind, how could you not expecting him to snatch you up before anyone else had the chance.

He was an amazing boyfriend constantly telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked, how loved you were.

He was the first person you managed to be properly comfortable around, able to be less "perfect", you thought that he never judged you for it.

That's why as you when you began to walk to the dining room with a tray of freshly baked lasagne in hand, you were horrified to hear your boyfriend, the one person who you thought didn't care how you looked around him, the one person that made you feel loved. Telling his friends how you "fooled" him into dating you and you were not as "perfect" as you used to be.

In all honesty, you wish you were more shocked. That this senario hadn't played through you head countless times before that you hadn't had a small voice in the back of your mind telling you how you didn't deserve him, how he was only still dating you out of pity.

You had hoped that it would never happen, that it was all just made up in your head. You wished in that very moment that this was all a dream that you could wake up and find John besides you, not talking about you negatively but instead kissing your forehead softly before leaving for the base.

--------------------------------------------------

But that wasn't the case, you weren't dreaming, he wasn't waking you up sweetly by kissing you on th forehead, and the rest of your boyfriends squad was sitting in the room infront of you.

You had no time to think about that, you needed to be "perfect".

•The "perfect" girlfriend.

•The "perfect" host.

•The "perfect" person.

Always kind and caring, always looking "perfect"...

Before you knew it you were stepping through the threshold of the door to the dining room, a "perfect" smile plastered on your face, your body going through the motions. Your mind was racing but you can't let it show on your face, you have to be "perfect"

--------------------------------------------------‐

You...you, HAD to be... you had nothing else to give, no matter how many times John has compliment you, no matter how many times he told you, that you were enough it's obvious you weren't because if you were then why was he saying that?? Why would he be saying you weren't good enough??

You had let yourself get too comfortable, too happy, you had lost your control, you had forgotten that you needed to be "perfect". You felt sorry for John, he had to deal with you when you weren't.

No wonder he was complaining! It's okay, though, you can fix it. You can ALWAYS fix it. John won't need to feel cheated, like you fooled or tricked him. You just need to get back into your routine.

You just need to be perfect again...

[sturniolosiphone]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ MDNI, angst, loose mentioning of ED, fluff⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

divider by: @issysh3ll

Sunday

“No, your body doesn’t look odd,” your mom assured you.

“Come on, sweetie, it’s the holidays. Eat some pie,” your grandmother pushed the plate towards you. But you remember what your pediatrician said when you were ten. You remember the workouts. You remember the Weight Watchers meetings. You remember growing up as a girl. You remember. You’re better now, but that doesn’t mean those feelings don’t linger.

Your boyfriend was good about it. He’d kiss your stomach and whisper how much he loved you against your skin. He’d braid words of encouragement and love into your hair. He’d sit with you in front of the mirror, picking out everything he loved about you while you stared at yourself until you were unrecognizable. “I love the freckle under your eye,” he’d whisper into your hair. “You know I love this spot right here?” he’d look up at you, head between your legs, kissing your inner thigh. “so soft, baby.” He loved you, didn’t he? He never gave you a reason to question, speculate, or wonder. But your brain was sick.

You were insecure. Jealous. Jittery. But who could blame you? You knew Chris had a substantial following but you didn’t seem to reasonably wrap your head around what that meant for you. The constant ridicule, the speculation around your relationship, the nitpicking of what you did, said and wore. It was a lot. It was always a lot.

“Take a deep breath,” you’d whisper, closing your eyes, gripping your phone, trying to forget what ‘chrissturnsgirl’ commented on your photo. Chris said it didn’t matter. He’d take your phone and delete the social media apps from it. Chris would hold you in his arms and say sorry until his lungs gave out. He felt responsible for the attention and hate aimed at you. You’d tell him he wasn’t. You’d say to him how much life he breathed into you. You’d watch as he tried to believe it, how he gripped onto the words that fell from your mouth, how he wanted to drink them in.

It wore Chris down. The constant questioning.

“Who is that? Did you talk to her a lot?” you said. At the same time, he showed you pictures of an event that he and his brothers were invited to.

“Baby, I don’t know,” he shrugs, trying to stay calm to diffuse the conversation. “She was just there and wanted a picture.” Chris looks up at you, already knowing what’s coming next. He puts his phone down on his lap. He stretches his legs out, leaning more against the couch, bracing himself.

“She was just there and wanted a picture. Still, you had no clue who she was?” you raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms as if it was some sort of shield. Chris sighed and rested his elbows on his thighs, putting his face in his hands.

“Not tonight, please.” It sounds like he’s begging you and pleading with you. You can see how his jaw tenses and how he almost curls into himself. He looks nearly scared.

You dig your nails into your arms, begging your brain to cooperate. This is Chris. This is your boyfriend. He loves you. Does he love you? “I just don’t understand why you have to always be so friendly, Chris,” you decide to say.

“You don't understand why I always have to be friendly? I’m a public figure, in case you forgot.” he looks up at you, sitting a little straighter now.

“Oh, believe me, I could never forget.” you knew this would hurt him. Why were you being mean? It’s not his fault that the fan base mistreats you. You shake off that thought. He scoffs and gets off the couch.

“Yup, and you never let me forget it,” he mumbles, heading towards the fridge. You don’t know how, but your shaky legs follow him.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Chris?” you stand on the other side of the table. He puts his drink down, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

“Let’s just…never mind…”

You can tell he’s holding back. He’s trying not to fight with you. Why are you pushing it? “No, I'd love to know exactly what you meant by that,” you huff. His demeanor changes at that moment. He’s less guard. His eyes look cold, almost detached.

“It means I’m fucking tired of this. God, it never ends, huh? I can’t do anything right! You can’t just throw your insecurities on me and expect me to carry them” his voice is raw. You stand there shocked. “And then this?” his voice cuts right through you.  “You stand there and act surprised. How could this possibly be affecting me, right?” he shakes his head.

“I don’t know what else you want from me, what else I could offer you. I’m faithful to you; I’m in love with you…god, I love you so much, but how can you not trust me?” he looks at you, distraught.

“I do tr-“ he cuts you off.

“You don’t. You don’t trust me. And I’m at my wit's end here,” he sighs. You go to open your mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s at his wit's end? “Baby, I wanna help you. Trust me, I do, but this..this isn’t fair to me, you know?” he rubs his face with his hands.

Isn’t he right? Doesn’t he attempt to make any change necessary to make you comfortable? He doesn’t have a passcode on his phone, although you’d never go through it, but he told you he wanted you to understand he has nothing to hide.

Didn’t he unfollow everyone that made you uncomfortable without question? Without a single word? He did. And you knew he’d do it a million times over. Chris is surrounded by beautiful women all of the time because of the line of his work, but he still looks at you as if you were the only one to exist to him. This wasn’t fair, and you knew it.

“I don’t like yelling at you. I’d rather die than yell at you, but this is wearing me out.” he sits at the table. You walk over to him, kneel before him, putting your head on his lap.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper tearfully. You feel his hand go through your hair, and his body relaxes. “You don’t deserve this, Chris. I just…I just get messed up, and my brain forgets who you are. The kind of person you are,” you sniffle.

“I shouldn’t have blown up on you like that, baby. I don’t know what came over,” he says with a heavy sigh.

“No, you were right. I needed to hear it. This isn’t fair to you.” you look at him with red-brimmed eyes. “I’ll do better,” you whisper, and he smiles a little.

“Here, come sit on my lap so you’re not on your knees,” he says, helping pull you up and sitting you across his lap. “Better?” he smiles at you, and you nod. “I’m sorry too,” he whispers, touching your face to wipe away your tears. “But we gotta work on this. I don’t like that you feel so lowly about yourself and could question my love for you. I adore you; you’re my baby. I will do anything, okay? If you need therapy, I will come to every session and wait in the car. If you think journaling will help, I’ll buy any journal you want. Anything, baby. You just gotta talk to me.” his eyes scan your face.

“I think therapy could help. I used to go when I was younger, and it did help,” you say, your voice hopeful.

“Yeah?” he smiles. “We can look into it tomorrow. Look, I know this is a lot for you. I see that you receive immense hate for being my girlfriend, and I’m sorry if I minimized that earlier. You’re strong, and I’m very proud of you.” he kisses your cheek.

“Thank you, Chris.” Your cheeks heat up from the compliment. “I am pretty strong, aren't I?” you wiggle your eyebrows.

“Oh, just the strongest girl I know.” he tickles your side, making you laugh. “Want me to run us a bath, baby?” he rubs your back, soothing you. “We can relax a little before bed, and I’ll even rub your feet because I feel so bad for yelling at you,” he chuckles.

“I’d love that,” you smile. 

[theragethatisdesire]

three's a... - jean kirschstein x afab!reader x eren jaeger - 18+!!!

i feel like i have mentioned the possibility of giving y'all an erejean threesome way too many times to keep holding out on you, so now that i've finally nitpicked this fic to death, here we are!! literally living my dreams vicariously through this fic. i'm still not 100% happy with it, but eren and jean are sexy here and are doing half of the work of making this worth the read for me lolol. it's also written mostly through jean's pov which was interesting to play with.

pairing: eren jaeger x reader x jean kirschstein

wc: 6.5k

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

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, threesome, established relationship (eren's ur perfect bf and u guys can't stop having sex with jean lol), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, anal (fingering and fucking), swearing, use of names (slut, brat, pretty girl, good girl, angel), mean dom eren vs soft dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie, double penetration, bicurious jean and bicurious eren (tasty, they definitely don't keep their hands to themselves), polyamory implied

buckle up, this was a blast to write and i hope it's equally as fun to read. enjoy <33

-

Jean should definitely not be here.

He should absolutely not be on his living room couch with Eren Jaeger’s girlfriend’s head in his lap, playing idly with her hair. By all traditional conventions and rules of exclusive relationships, Jean’s fairly sure that letting your girlfriend rest her head on the crotch of your roommate while he strokes her hair is on the no-no list. Not for Eren, apparently, who has your feet in his lap on the other end of the couch, playing with your toes absentmindedly and making you giggle and kick him in protest. Jean should not be here, but you and Eren have made a habit of roping him into circumstances that he would never admit to, not even at gunpoint.

If Jean is brutally, painfully honest with himself, he knows he had gotten himself into this. You were just so cute, wisping around their apartment in a big tshirt and tiny shorts in the mornings, always making sure to save him a cup of coffee. Maybe he had let his lingering glances linger just a little too long, smirked over his coffee mug at you one too many times, come up behind you to help you reach something on the top shelf and leaned a little too close, Jean couldn’t pinpoint exactly what caused Eren to notice his clear attraction towards you, but he did. Instead of getting his ass kicked like he had expected when you and Eren sat down to confront him, Jean had learned something.

Eren Jaeger has a greedy, spoiled brat of a girlfriend.

That had been the first time Jean came in you, fucking into your throat while Eren watched from across the room, palming over the bulge in his jeans. The second time, the two of you had invited Jean out for a drink, which, in hindsight, he should have seen the ulterior motive from a mile away. He had ended up cumming in your pussy, bending you over in the bar bathroom with Eren’s cock in your mouth. The third time had been in Eren’s bedroom as you rode him, Eren sitting behind you and working your hips over Jean’s cock as you wailed.

Jean had stopped his ministrations in your hair as he was reflecting on how exactly he got into this situation, trying very hard not to think too far into the filthy details to prevent propping your head up with an erection. You make a little noise of discontent, grabbing at his hands and urging them back to your hair.

“Jean, don’t stop. Feels good.”

Jean’s mouth tightens into a thin line at your choice of words, words he’s heard from you before under very different circumstances, but he obliges. So much for self control. Eren raises a smug eyebrow at him from across the couch.

“You’re giving her what she wants, right, Kirschtein?”

Jesus, you two are insatiable, still managing to grate on Jean’s razor-thin willpower with all of your clothes on. Jean wonders briefly what the appeal is for Eren, if he gets off on watching you take another man’s cock, bring another man near to tears with your warm, silken cunt. Does Eren enjoy dangling you in front of Jean until he’s forced to give in? Eren’s gaze lingers on Jean’s hands, threading through your hair, awaiting an answer.

“Yeah,” Jean says, not trusting any more words to his loose lips. They’ve already betrayed him three times now, saying yes when they should have been saying no.

“Good,” Eren responds simply, offering a small smile that, to anyone else, looks innocent. Jean knows Eren better than that. He watches as Eren’s hand travels up your bare leg, coming to rest on your upper thigh. You’re affected by it, such a simple touch, such a sensitive little body; he can feel you tense over his thighs.

Jean steels his jaw and forces his eyes back over to the movie. He’s got to stop playing these fucked up games of yours, it’s bad for him and he knows it. He hasn’t dated in months, not since you’d first pulled him into your little world, can’t bring himself to look at anyone else, can’t stand the thought of feeling anyone else’s skin under his fingers. His little crush has bloomed into full-blown lovesickness, and it would be best for him if he just stopped.

All of that ironclad willpower melts away in an instant when you let out a little moan.

Eren’s hand has snuck its way up to your shorts, nudging at the apex of your thighs. His focus is still trained on whatever reality show you’ve put on, completely ignoring the way you sigh under his touch. Jean’s cock twitches in his pants; this is his opportunity to hesitate, to say no, but he stays silent, only watching as you squirm in his lap.

“Eren,” your chastisement comes out as a breath. One of your hands comes to meet Eren’s, trying to push him away, but he simply swats your hand, shooting you a stern look.

“Behave,” Eren warns, eyes dark and dangerous. Jean’s learned that Eren’s mean to you, snappy when you put on your little attitude and fight back, but Jean doesn’t have the willpower. He holds you gently while he fucks into you hard, gives you anything you ask for.

You bite your lip and turn your head back to the TV, one hand coming up to pull Jean’s away from your head, wrapping your fingers around his. Jean’s breath hitches in his throat when you squeeze tight, back arching like you’re holding back a moan; Eren’s worked his way into your panties now, rubbing little circles over your clit.

“Look, Jaeger,” Jean makes a half-hearted attempt to remove himself, pulling his hand from yours and making all the movements to suggest he’s going to stand up, “I should–”

“What?” Eren cocks his head, as casual as if they’re discussing the weather. “Look at her, you really gonna just leave her there like that while I’m teasing her?”

Against his better judgment, Jean flicks his eyes down towards you. It’s a pitiful sight, your eyes already glossed over and staring up at him, wide and pleading, your bottom lip tucked in tight between your teeth.

“Jean,” his name comes out of your mouth, broken and already heady with arousal. That’s what snaps his resolve clean in two. You need him.

“What is it?” Jean hates the fondness in his voice, so glaringly obvious in front of your fucking boyfriend. Eren doesn’t seem to mind, though; he picks up speed, making you wriggle impatiently.

“Wanna kiss,” you whimper, reaching up towards his face.

“Don’t,” Eren stops Jean from leaning down, “she’s been bad today.”

“Is that so?” Jean rubs a thumb over your lips, frowning down at you. He can see the guilt in the way your brows knit together; oh, you have been bad, and you know it.

“Wouldn’t stop begging me for you, wanted to snuggle with Jeanie,” Eren raises his voice to mock you, slapping a hand against your clit and making you jump.

Jean’s face burns; is this it? Is this finally Eren telling him that you’re off-limits, finally deciding that Jean’s had his fill? And he’s going to rub it in his face by torturing you on Jean’s lap?

“Tell him,” Eren demands, another sharp smack landing on your cunt.

“Didn’t want to wait t-til you got home,” your face is already blotchy, eyes clouded with shame, “wanted Eren to text you and make you leave work.”

“And what did I say?”

“Be patient,” your voice wavers, Jean’s heart pounds in his ears, “and Jean would come take care of me.”

“So needy,” Eren tuts down at you, cruelly shoving a finger into your wet heat and instantly removing it, drawing a breathy whine from you, “see?”

Eren’s offering his finger to Jean, shining with slick, eyebrows lifted insistently. Jean narrows his eyes, cocks his head. What game is he playing at?

“What, don’t want a taste?” Eren’s eyes glint in the low light, taunting him. Jean leans forward hesitantly, lets the other man slide a thick finger between his lips. You always taste so good, salty and tangy; Jean feels a groan rumble deep in his chest. The corner of Eren’s mouth curls ever so slightly. Whatever game he’s playing, Jean’s losing. “Touch her, but no kisses. She has to behave if she wants that.”

You pout, bottom lip still wobbling where you’ve pushed it out, but you arch your back a little, straining your tits against your tank top. Jean knows you well enough by now, knows you chose that thin little top and didn’t wear a bra just for him, just to tempt him. You have been bad, but Jean doesn’t care, could never care when you’re looking up at him all sweet and needy. But he knows better than to disobey Eren’s rules, for your sake. Eren will edge you for the rest of the night, make himself cum, and leave you out to dry.

“Jean, please–”

“Sh,” Jean shushes you, sits you up just a little so he can pull your tank top over your head, “I’ve gotcha. Just be good for us, alright?”

You nod and smile drunkenly as he cups your breasts, kneading your nipples between his fingers. They’re one of his favorite things about you; he can’t resist leaning down to place sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your hot skin, lick around your nipples just light enough to tease. Maybe Jean can be a little mean too.

“More,” you gasp, fingers coming to clutch at his head, “more, I– oh!”

Jean’s eyes flit down your body to see Eren’s now got two long fingers shoved knuckle-deep in you, curling them fast enough to make you cry out, roll your hips up towards him. If he looks closely, he can see a wet patch forming on the crotch of your shorts; it makes his cock throb. He’s never met a woman that gets as wet as you, filthy at the slightest touch.

“You’re so messy,” Jean voices his mind without exactly meaning to, pulling himself from you so he can prop you up against his chest and let you look at the mess you’ve made. You give him a little whine of protest, tilting your chin up towards him, searching for his mouth.

“Please, I want–”

“I know what you want,” Jean thumbs at your lip, “he’s mean, isn’t he? Making you behave yourself when all you want is a little love, isn’t that right?”

“Mhm,” you manage to shoot a scathing glare at Eren that makes Jean chuckle, makes Eren smack your thigh hard enough to echo throughout the room.

“Stupid little slut,” Eren growls, moving his fingers faster, “you’re just all about Jean because he spoils you, aren't you? Someone has to make sure you behave yourself.”

Jean’s eyes widen; Eren’s clearly in a mood today, and Jean hopes it doesn’t have anything to do with his presence. Eren’s a mixed bag most times. Jean’s overheard him making soft, quiet love to you, little praises slipping out from the crack in his bedroom door, but Jean’s also watched Eren edge you to the point of tears, spit on your cunt, spank you until you bruise. Maybe Eren’s jealousy finally is getting the better of him, Jean thinks, maybe he just can’t say no to your insatiable appetite, and he is actually pissed that you had begged him for Jean.

“Jean,” you’re clutching at his shirt, moaning pathetically as Eren sucks harsh bites into your thighs.

“Did it to yourself,” Jean shakes his head at you sadly, “you know better than to make him mad.”

“Shut her up,” Eren nods his head at your mouth meaningfully, “I’ve heard enough out of her for today.”

It takes some awkward repositioning, but Jean’s able to pull his cock out, tap it against your tongue where you’ve already got your mouth hanging open, drool pooling on his lap under your cheek.You shove yourself up with some effort, and take Jean almost to the hilt on your first go, slurping lewdly around him. Jean nearly chokes.

“Oh, you are needy today,” he hisses, threading his fingers through your hair, making sure his view remains unobstructed. “That what you wanted? My cock in your throat?”

You manage a stiff nod around him in between the muffled moans you’re letting out around his cock; Eren’s added his thumb to the mix now, pulling your panties to the side so he can swipe at your clit.

“She was fuckin’ drooling for it earlier,” Eren says, meeting Jean’s eyes with a smirk, “should have seen her, all pouty and sad because her Jeanie wasn’t here. Pathetic.”

In the small part of Jean’s brain that’s still able to think rationally with his cock nudging at your gag reflex, he’s frowning in confusion. Eren is pissed at you because you were begging for Jean, and here he is spurring Jean on in fucking into your throat. It makes no fucking sense, really, but Jean’s getting his dick sucked, and not for the first time, by the woman he’s been pining after for months, so who is he to question it?

“Mmph!” You squeal, mouth too full to form a real sound, hips canting up violently towards Eren. Eren laughs, low and cruel.

“Aw, I think she’s gonna cum soon,” Eren pulls his fingers from you, a tear slips down your cheek. “Pity.”

Your cry of protest is whimpered by Jean standing up slightly, angling his hips to plunge as deep as he can. He’s only had his cock in your mouth a few times, but Jean’s intuitive. He knows how much you can take, knows exactly how far to push you before it’s too much.

“Don’t whine, baby,” Jean huffs, “just gonna make him more mad. He won’t let me help you if you don’t behave.”

“Look at you,” Eren runs his hands along your thighs, leans down to press a chaste kiss over where you’ve ruined your shorts, “being a good girl for us. S’that what it takes for you to behave? Need both of us?”

If Jean’s not mistaken, the garbled sound you make around him is one of agreement. The thought goes straight between his legs, brings him far closer to the edge than he’d like to be at this point. He pulls your mouth off of him, making you pout.

“But–”

“I know, I know, you want it,” Jean rubs an affectionate thumb over your cheek, “but you want me to fuck you, too, right?”

“Please,” you breathe, reaching down to wiggle your shorts off. Eren’s face lights up.

“Wanna show him your little surprise, baby?” Eren’s tugging at your shorts now, ripping them off and tossing them to the sides. He puts his hands under your arms, yanking you out of Jean’s lap and throwing your chest over his shoulders. When Eren’s hands come to your cheeks, spreading them so Jean can see, Jean’s heart nearly stops. There’s a little pink rhinestone glittering where your asshole should be– a plug, keeping you open and ready. Eren meets Jean’s eyes, daring. “She picked it out just for us. Want us both, don’t you? Nasty little thing.”

Eren punctuates his statement with a grin and a sharp slap to your ass that makes you jump, nod desperately from behind him. Jean reaches a cautious hand over, puts two fingers around the toy and pulls lightly, just enough to watch it move in you. You whine; he can see your empty cunt flutter.

“Can she take it? Both of us?”

“Oh yeah,” Eren brushes off Jean’s concern, “been using all her little toys for weeks, making me practice with her. She can take it.”

With that, Jean’s standing, padding into his room and knowing Eren’s following with you still tossed over his shoulder. His head spins; you, his precious little toy, have been stretching yourself out, getting yourself ready to have two cocks in you? The thought nearly makes Jean moan to himself, imagining how tight you’ll be all stuffed full.

Eren’s thrown you on the bed none too gently, stripping as you look up at him, hearts in your eyes. He stops midway through pulling his clothes off to grab your chin, offer your pleading gaze to Jean.

“Why don’t you ask him, hm?” Eren coos, looking between you and Jean with a filthy grin on his face. “Ask him again, see if you’ve been good.”

“Will you kiss me, Jean? Please?” Your voice has that thin, fucked out tone to it that drives Jean crazy, makes him want to make you cry.

“Yeah princess, I’ll kiss you.” He leans down, takes your soft mouth in his, Eren never releasing his hold on your chin. Jean can taste himself on your tongue, smiling appreciatively at the salty tang. Eren rips you away far too soon, pressing his mouth down on you far rougher than Jean had. They balance each other well, Jean thinks, the gentle caresses and the sharp slaps that make you come undone under them in a way neither of them can manage alone.

“On your knees, brat,” Eren sneers, the shred of tenderness that he’d grabbed your face with long-gone, “convince us to fuck you stupid.”

You nod obediently, sliding off the bed and onto your knees, reaching for Jean. He steps forward, letting you hold his cock in your little hand, rub up and down while you take Eren in your mouth. Even your hands are enough to drive him crazy, so soft and supple around him; Jean’s head falls back.

“Fuck,” Eren sucks a sharp breath in between his teeth, “that’s it, baby, take it.”

Something possesses Jean, what it is he can’t be sure, but he reaches a hand down to the back of your head, pushing you further down Eren’s length. He half-expects Eren to chastise him for it, but Eren groans, long and loud, a sound that simmers in Jean’s stomach.

Jean watches the contractions of Eren’s abs, trails his eyes up to where the other man’s strong chest is heaving, a strange, hot sensation trickling through his center. It’s too late to look away once he realizes he’s been caught, but instead of finding amusement when he meets Eren’s eyes, Jean finds something else entirely.

Eren’s looking at Jean the way he looks at you, all lusty and uninhibited. Jean nearly scowls at him, everything he’s internalized over the years rearing its head in his chest, but Eren stops him with a hand wrapped around the back of Jean’s neck. In the blink of an eye, there’s a set of lips on his, a sharp tongue licking into his mouth.

Jean lets out a wanton, strung out moan that Eren swallows, echoes with one of his own. Jean notices that your head has stilled under his hand, and he shoves you back onto Eren’s cock mindlessly, relishing in the way Eren’s mouth stutters against his own when you retch around him. He trails his hand, tentative and exploratory, up to Eren’s hair, grabs the bun at the back of his head and pulls. Jean’s surprised at the heat beneath his palm; he’s always known Eren runs hot, especially after the last few times he’s fucked you. It’s only natural to brush arms, brush legs during the act, but Eren’s skin is scalding, damp with sweat under his touch.

It’s not Jean’s first kiss with a man, not by any means, but he’d never guessed that Eren, headstrong, manly, unreadable Eren, had this in him. Had it been hiding there for all of these years? Was it a spur of the moment thing, that Eren would look back on and cringe at later?

Doubt getting the better of him, Jean breaks first, pulls away with a quiet smacking sound. Eren’s eyes are just as wide as his feel, searching Jean’s face for any sign of regret, of satisfaction, of something. A loud whine from below distracts them both, and whatever odd moment was forming is broken as they look down at you.

Your chin is covered in drool from where you’ve been choking on Eren, gagging around him, and your eyes are glossy and needy. Jean’s cock gets impossibly harder.

“What?” Eren taunts. “You jealous that I kissed your Jeanie?”

“Yeah,” you pout, brows knitting, but Jean can see the arousal written into your features. You liked it.

“Get up,” Jean says to you, voice hard and unforgiving.

You follow his instruction, standing on shaking legs. Jean can see the snark in your eyes before it comes out of your lips. “What, finally going to pay attention to me now?”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, Eren’s hand is around your jaw, wrenching it open for him to spit into your mouth. “Don’t fucking talk back, not if you want to cum.”

“You were doing so good,” Jean rubs a hand over your hip, guiding you to lay on top of him on the bed, “what, are you that desperate for us that you can’t mind your manners?”

“I just–”

“Want both of your slutty little holes filled?” Eren scoffs, kneeling on the bed behind where you’re straddling Jean’s hips. “Yeah, we know.”

You frown and lean down to Jean, searching for consolation, but he shoves you to sit back up, admiring the way your chest bounces with the movement.

“Can’t be nice to you all the time,” Jean’s voice is low, dangerous, “not when you act like a brat.”

He can see the heartbreak on your face, revels in it, but it’s short lived. Your eyes fly open as Eren works the plug out of you, tossing it to the side and wrapping an arm around you to take your neck in his hand. Eren looks down at Jean, exchanges a conspiratorial smirk with him.

“Why don’t you ask Jean if you can sit on it while I work you open, hm?”

Your eyes glisten pleadingly at Jean, but something’s come over him. He realizes he likes drawing those begging moans out of you, likes holding you over the edge between the tips of his fingers. Jean shrugs.

“Show me how bad you want it.”

While Eren reaches over to scrounge around for the lube in Jean’s bedside table, you start to work your hips over Jean’s cock, slicking it up with how wet you already are. Jean grabs you by the back of the neck, pulls you to him to drink down the little whimpers and moans that escape your lips.

“Jean, please,” you sigh into his mouth, “I need you.”

Jean’s resolve wavers, but he stands firm. “Beg.”

“I–” hot tears of shame are welling in your eyes now, Jean wants to lick them from your cheeks– “please, I need it, need your cock in me, please, Jean.”

“What do you think, Eren?” As Jean asks the question, it strikes him just how often he refers to the other man simply as “Jaeger”, not by his first name. In his mind, ‘Jaeger’ is his friend of many years, and ‘Eren’ is the man that he had just inexplicably, passionately kissed. “Think she’s earned it?”

“Let’s see how she takes my fingers,” Eren replies, slicking his fingers up with lube and forcing two into your already-stretched hole with ease, making you squeak in surprise, “oh fuck, she’s already so stretched out for us. Yeah, give her what she wants, let her warm up to it.”

“Thank you, t-thank you,” you stammer, out of your mind with want as Jean slides the head of his cock into you with a long groan.

“Shit,” Jean growls, holding onto you tight to prevent your hips from pushing down on him too fast, filling you up too quickly with Eren’s fingers hard at work in your other hole. Maybe he is the nice one, after all. “So fucking tight for me, aren’t you?”

“Mhm, for you,” you hum, lip tucked in your teeth.

“Think she likes you more than me,” Eren smirks from over your shoulder, working a third finger into you and making your jaw drop. For his part, Jean bottoms out, hissing as you pulse around him. He can feel Eren’s fingers scissoring through your walls, eyes rolling back into his head at the sensation.

“You okay? Is it too much?” Jean notices one of those tears that had sparkled in your eyes earlier threatening to fall, grabbing your face and forcing you to look at him. You look beautiful, all stretched around him and fucked out, mind blank.

“It’s a lot,��� you nod, sniffle, “but I’m okay, I can take him. Want to, want– need you both.”

Eren’s eyes darken, and Jean can feel him remove his fingers, feel the accommodating stretch of your walls able to breathe again. Jean takes your hips in his hands, rolling you along his cock to grant both of you some of the friction you desperately need. You mewl, leaning over to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Eren’s lining up behind you, running a soothing hand over your back.

“Deep breaths, baby,” Jean instructs you, holding you to his chest. You sniffle and nod into his shoulder, muscles tense and twitching.

“Tell me if it’s too much, alright angel?” Eren leans over to press a surprisingly tender kiss between your shoulder blades and gives Jean a signaling nod, which Jean returns.

Jean can feel it the moment Eren pushes in, feel your body stretching itself to accommodate both of them. You squeal into the skin of Jean’s shoulder that you’ve taken between your teeth, and it hurts, but he lets you, rubbing circles on your lower back.

“Doing so good for us, baby,” Jean hums, pressing his lips to your ear, “too much?”

You shake your head, whimpering as Eren pushes in further.

“God, she’s– shit, it’s so fucking tight,” Eren growls, jaw clenched and a little vein protruding in his neck from the effort of holding himself back, reining in the part of himself that just wants to snap his hips forwards into you.

“Yeah, she is,” Jean chokes out, feeling suffocated by the way you’re pulsing around him, by the pressure of Eren’s cock shoving at him. He’s not sure where he ends and where the both of you begin, if there’s even any separation between his skin and Eren’s and yours anymore.

“Feel so– full,” you hiccup, nails digging into Jean’s shoulders. Your watery voice makes Eren pause, rub a hand over your back.

“You doing okay, baby? How you feeling?”

“Feels….” you take in a deep, heaving breath, “good. Feels so good.”

Eren grins, something feral. “That’s our girl. So good for us, yeah?”

“You like being full, hm?” Jean can feel a smile mirroring Eren’s on his face.

He doesn’t miss Eren’s choice of words. Our girl. And you are their girl, you love being full of them. Of course you do. You’re their insatiable little plaything, so good at taking them in each of your holes. You love it, you love them.

“It’s– fuck, I’m in,” Eren’s staring at where you’re all connected. Jean wishes he could see, but the tightness of you around him is enough, the way he can feel Eren through your thin walls, pressing against his cock. Eren pumps his hips experimentally, and all three of you moan in sync.

“Pl-please move, Jean, fuck- no, Eren, just–” you’re babbling nonsensically, music to their ears.

“We’ve got you,” Jean hushes you, fucking his hips up into you and cutting you off, “just sit tight and be our good little girl, alright?”

“Oh g-god.” Your words wrench from you in a sob, jolting with the thrust of Jean’s hips up into yours. It takes some work, but soon enough, they’re pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace, synced up so you’re never empty, not for long. You’re wailing, voice scratchy from all the crying you’ve already done that night, clutching onto Jean like he’s your last lifeline.

“Feels so fucking good,” Eren grits out, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “so good for us.”

“Not gonna last long, not like this,” Jean agrees, sitting you up so he can see you, see your wet cheeks and your open mouth, “so pretty like this, aren’t you? All stuffed full?”

“She loves it,” Eren growls over your pathetic, shaky moan of agreement, landing a smack on your ass, “fucking loves us, don’t you baby? Tell us, tell us how much you love it.”

“I-I love it,” you manage, voice wrecked, “love you— fuck- love you both so much.”

Jean’s eyes widen, roll back in his head a little. You’re so perfect, obedient and willing to take both of them, let them abuse your holes. The thought makes him bite down on the inside of his cheek, not willing to be the first to break and ruin this perfect moment.

“Jean, I– shit, I’m gonna cum soon,” Eren pants, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open when he meets Jean’s eyes. “Make her cum.”

Jean nods determinedly, somehow finds the presence of mind to slide a hand in between your slick bodies, swiping at your clit insistently. Your body blooms for him, back arching as you throw your head back against Eren’s shoulder. He feels you clench violently around him, knows you’ve already been on the edge since they started with you, knows you won’t take much goading to break for them.

“That good?” Jean forced out through his clenched jaw, trying to keep pace with Eren amidst your vice-like grip on him.

“Yes, so fucking– oh my god, J-Jean, I’m– Eren,” you’re babbling, close to the point of hysteria, eyes blank and teary. Jean’s free hand wraps around your hip, grabbing hard at the flesh there. He’s so gone he barely catches it, just barely, but he notices Eren’s hand. Eren lays his palm over Jean’s, deliberate and steady, grabbing onto the other man’s hand and squeezing down. Jean meets Eren’s eyes, fucked out and hooded.

“Come on,” Jean rubs faster, harder, his eyes flitting back and forth between yours and Eren’s, “show us what a good fucking girl you are for us.”

Whatever was tethering you to your sanity falls away, and you cum harder than Jean’s ever seen, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as your muscles lock up, legs trembling on either side of Jean’s hips. He grips your hip harder, trying to maintain a pace so you can ride your orgasm out on top of them. Eren follows quickly behind you, biting into your shoulder with a loud, long groan. When Jean feels Eren’s cum leaking out of you, feels the mess they’ve made between your legs, he falls over the edge too, slamming your hips down into his and grinding up into you with a moan.

The three of you collapse into a heap of limbs and sweat and stickiness, chests heaving and muscles twitching. Jean can feel the burn of Eren’s skin and the slick, plush give of yours, enveloping him from every angle, and for the first time in months, he lets his eyes flutter shut, letting himself enjoy the simple pleasure of touch.

But nothing is forever, and after a few minutes, he feels you begin to stir between them, mumbling about needing to go to the bathroom. Eren reluctantly rolls off the bed to help you to the bathroom to clean up, leading you out on shaking legs. Alone again, Jean throws his hands over his face and sighs, deep and hefty.

He shouldn’t be here, he should have never let you both goad him into this.

It occurs to Jean that he needs some air; the apartment feels suffocatingly small knowing that both of you are only a few layers of plaster and a door away. He pushes through regret and self-doubt, pulling his sweatpants back on and scrounging around in his laundry basket of unfolded, clean clothes to find a shirt.

“What are you doing?” Eren’s suddenly in the doorway, scowling at him.

“Going out.”

“You worked this morning. What, do you have plans or something?” There’s a clear note of annoyance in Eren’s voice, but Jean’s too exhausted and shaky to look into it.

“Jean?” You, Eren’s shadow as always, peer around his shoulders, a cute little furrow of confusion between your brows. “Where are you going?”

Jean nearly growls in frustration, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Out. I’m going out.”

He hates the way you flinch, grab onto Eren’s hand for stability in the wake of his snapping at you. Eren speaks next, but Jean doesn’t recognize his tone; it’s firm, but somehow, it’s lacking Eren’s perpetually angry intonation.

“Sit.” Eren’s got one finger pointed to the bed, ordering him as if this isn’t Jean’s own room. He drags you over behind him, plopping on the bed as if you all do this every day. Jean glares at Eren, softens his eyes at the way you’re looking up at him invitingly.

“We just want to talk a little,” you pat the comforter, smiling softly. That breaks him, and against Jean’s better judgment, he’s sitting where you’ve indicated, t-shirt still fisted in his hands.

“About?”

“We don’t want you to think– well, this…” Eren gestures his hands between the three of you, frowning deeper, and eventually sighing, “I don’t know how to say it.”

You pick up for Eren, smiling at him. “We don’t want you to feel like you’re out of place here, that’s all.”

Jean cocks an eyebrow. “In my own bedroom?”

“No, asshole,” Eren rolls his eyes, “with…with us.”

“What does that mean?” Jean’s heart nearly stops. A small, soft hand over his makes his breath catch in his throat.

“We’re not, like, experienced with this, so maybe we’re doing this whole thing wrong,” you look to Eren anxiously, who nods at you reassuringly, “but…we have room for you. If you’re open.”

“Like…” Jean barely trusts his voice to carry above a breath, “in what sense?”

“It’s not just sex,” Eren mumbles, flushing pink, “to us, at least.”

“We like you,” you clarify, smiling again, “and however you want us, if you want us, at least, you can have us.”

Jean blinks stupidly, looks to Eren to see if his face betrays anything, anything that could explain the conversation taking place, if it’s a joke, if he’s unsure. To his surprise, Eren looks up at him, green eyes earnest and burning into his, and takes the t-shirt out of Jean’s hands, giving one of Jean’s hands to you and taking the other for himself.

“It works,” Eren says, finding some conviction, “whatever you want to call it, this works.”

“For both of you?” Jean can hardly believe his ears, can hardly fathom the feeling of your soft, delicate little fingers and Eren’s calloused palms wrapped around his hands.

“For both of us. But…does it? For you?” Your voice wavers, your nerves betraying you.

“I mean, I don’t know what it is. I don’t understand it,” Jean admits, positive that his eyes are comically wide in the face of this new information.

“Me neither,” Eren shrugs, “but we don’t have to be so serious about it–”

“Not for now at least,” you smile at Eren encouragingly, nodding and urging him to press on.

“Not for now,” Eren agrees, squeezing Jean’s fingers ever so slightly, the smallest, most tentative reassurance, “we can figure it out later.”

“If you want it,” you bite your lip, looking up at Jean through thick lashes, “want us. We won’t be upset if you say no. No pressure.”

Jean thinks for a moment, thinks about everything you’re offering him. You, who he’s pined after for months, so beautiful and sweet to him. He thinks about sharing coffee with you in the mornings, holding you tight to his body and drifting off to sleep, letting you play with his hair. He doesn’t know if he loves you, but whatever he feels is pretty damn close to it, close enough to drive him crazy and keep him up at night.

And Eren. He’s been friends with Eren for near a decade now, known him for as long as he can remember. What this agreement means in terms of his relationship with Eren, Jean hardly dares to press, knowing how Eren is: flighty, argumentative, brash. None of that is written into Eren’s features now, though; Eren’s watching him intently, earnestly, chest stilled as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for Jean’s answer.

Something old and something new mixed together into something entirely unfamiliar.

“We don’t have to put a label on it now, or even go through the semantics,” Eren’s voice is spent, nearly breathless.

“We’ll give you some space if you need–”

“No,” Jean cuts you off, looking between you both, “no, it’s– it’s just a surprise, that’s all.”

Eren snorts. “How many times do we need to fuck you before you get the hint?”

“Eren!” You slap his arm, looking between him and Jean meaningfully. “Not really the time for jokes, is it?”

“I mean, fucking in the bathroom of Scout’s isn’t exactly wining and dining me,” Jean rolls his eyes. Eren laughs at that, unintentionally tightening his grip around Jean’s fingers and making Jean’s heart thud a little in his chest.

“You two are beyond annoying,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Eren and Jean exchange a wicked smirk.

“Regretting this already?” Eren teases you, digging his fingers into your side and making you giggle.

“Get over here,” Jean pulls you onto his lap, feeling emboldened to press a quick succession of kisses to your jawline, to your cheek. God, maybe he does love you, the weight of you in his arms feeling almost perfect. Eren leans over and tackles you both, tickling you wherever he can reach, Jean pinning you to his chest despite your protests and thrashing.

That’s what’s missing, Jean realizes. It’s not about you and Jean, or you and Eren, or he and Eren. He understands Eren’s bluntness earlier: the three of you just work, regardless of the weirdness of it all or the awkward conversations that lay ahead. It works, and for now, that’s enough.

Eren relents in his torture, scooting up the bed and dragging you with him, pulling Jean’s covers over you both like he’d done it a hundred times. Jean’s last little inkling of self-doubt perseveres, and he hesitates, until Eren tosses the covers on your other side back, patting the sheets meaningfully. Jean swallows his pride, swallows his insecurity, and pulls you into his side, very mindful of Eren’s arm tossed over both of your shoulders, of Eren’s fingers weaving absentmindedly through the hair at the nape of his neck.

And in the morning, when Eren mimics Jean’s loud snoring and you’re playfully throwing little crumbs of toast at them over the counter, the little voice in Jean’s head that had warned him to keep his distance will be completely silenced for the first time in months.

[signedkoko]

Hello!

Could you write some romantic headcanons for Valentino with a fem reader who's an overlord, and is either equally as powerful as him or more? I would love to see the dynamic, because we know how he treats his employees, but I'm interested in how he would act with someone who's "higher class" (would he see her as equal, treat her with more respect ect.).

Btw, I love your works. Your writing style is amazing.

Have a nice day/night <3

Valentino X Reader [Romantic]

In which you are one of the strongest overlords, and you far outpower all the V's combined. Reader is female.

When you first met, it was a very back-and-forth relationship

Always nitpicking each other, bickering a ton, and making jokes at the others expense

This was mostly at meetings or at public events, but for the most part, Valentino never bothered to know more about you

Vox was a good friend of yours, though, so he always saw you in a positive light on social media or television

Slowly, Valentino had to come to terms with the fact that you were extremely well known, as you'd taken down many overlords who crossed you without so much as a scratch

In all honesty, he's quite the coward, so he tries to avoid you as much as Vox and Velvette invite you into their lives

The fact that anyone, let alone a woman, is more powerful than him? Its infruiating

Mostly because it hurts his masculinity, what little is left of it

While normally your strength would be worth exploiting, Velvette and Vox being so attached meant he was forced to respect you

Forced is the key word because he never respects anyone besides himself, which makes it way harder to be around you, though his awkwardness is what really reels you in

You two have a lot in common: you get what you want when you want it; the only difference is that you are independent and do everything on your own

Valentino preferred to have others do the dirty work for him, so you always laughed at how prissy he was

He probably smokes a lot more after being around you because it stresses him out

He's not worried about you, no, mostly himself; you are certainly a handful, and wherever you go, you take over the whole room

Valentino is influenced by your presence, which is noticeable to everyone around him

He is less hot-headed, less likely to lash out, and less likely to manipulate anyone into doing his bidding

It is almost as if he is trying to impress you further by being independent himself, as hard as it is for him

You know this; it's very blatant, but honestly, it's so cute seeing him try to act so big and bad when he's like a mutt next to you

Valentino idolizes you in your relationship; you are an icon that he must protect

He will go to extreme lengths for you

This stupid overlord will still bicker with you, but he will leave any prods towards you out of it and will only get huffy if you start insulting him too much

Author's Note - Honestly surprised I got requested Valentino but also excited! He is such a dynamic character, defo one of my hardest to write. I also can't wait to do Velvette! Thank you for requenting 🖤

[slayrith]

in my room

i needed some josh in my life guys.. love chris but josh makes me foam at the mouth; sorta inspired by this song

warning: more stalker josh ;) he's a lil obsessive freak we need to talk about it more

It'd be an understatement to say he hadn't taken notice of you sitting next to him the first day of the semester. This film analysis class was a must for his major, but to you it was one of the only available classes left for you to get your liberal arts credit for your Psychology major- and you were as out of your depth as one could be. Nose scrunched up in confusion, you jotted annotations on the syllabus, something Josh had found quite cute; And now here he was, eyeing you sipping your coffee a month later across the library, watching you revise notes from your concluded lectures.

Josh had grown quite an obsession over you over the course of you two having a class. And sure, you've seen him a few times, but that's to be expected: you guys are in the same class, and your campus only had so many recreational spots for students, so you didn't think much of it. He was a cute guy, sure, but he seemed much too engrossed in the class you two shared to really talk to him.

Josh was one to not really obsess in silence- sure, he watched you from afar, and totally didn't hunt down and fall down the rabbit hole that was your social media profiles, but he just... He couldn't not approach you. So he did.

At first it was casual, him asking you about whatever film the professor was making you guys watch every week, making his usual jokes and subtly flaunting his apparent interest in film. You couldn't help but find it cute, seeing his eyes light up when you guys would talk, especially when he'd fill you in on additional information about the movie. Soon it turned into a weekly study date of sorts, both of you discussing and jotting notes while you went back and forth nitpicking the movie.

Then he invited you to a party- which in turn, introduced you to his friends. Then, these get-togethers became a weekly thing- being considerate of your work schedule, he'd hate for you to fall behind in work and school- until you two were hanging out several times a week- and you've only been talking to him for about a month.

"Hey- want to come watch 'Requiem For a Dream' again? I have it on DVD- and that's one you cannot watch one time and understand. It's a cinematic whiplash."

"So I'm holding a little casual shindig at my place- just us and some friends. Don't worry, they don't bite... Except for me, maybe- Kidding, kidding.. You're so tense, love.."

After a while you became accustomed to his petnames for you -which he absolutely lavished on you, whether or not you like it- and his countless teases and suggestive comments. That was just Josh to you, and he held a certain charm attached to it, which you grew to find endearing.

It wasn't until one evening you two were sprawled on the couch of your apartment, munching on snacks as you two leisurely watched some cheesy B-horror movie for a break from the pretentious films your professor would burden you with, when a cliché scene of the protagonist's girlfriend coming out in nothing but a shirt and underwear, earning a scoff from you.

"What? You'd look cute in that.. Besides, you have a similar pair.."

"Please, as if you would- wait what?"

"What? Nothing."

god i need this man

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy III

a yandere art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU...

III.

-You like the atmosphere in the classroom. It's a good group of students. They like their teacher, they like you. Everyone is very chill about the human body for what it is, and no one makes you feel uncomfortable. There is one student who maybe likes you for more than just shapes on the page, though. 

You gently rebuff Matt’s attempts to flirt in the classroom. You're a little older than most of the students, though you are still far from what you consider an actual adult. You're more staff than faculty, but it still feels like forbidden territory. 

When lunch time comes and you are sitting at the picnic table under an old maple tree, soaking up the last warmth of autumn, Matt takes the liberty of sitting with you. He is cute, and soft spoken, and he has sad brown eyes that feel safe to fall into. You like his leather jacket, and his long legs, and his sideways smile. When he invites you to see his band play that weekend you offer a noncommittal maybe. Are you allowed to mingle socially with the students? When he looks through his long hair at you with those puppy dog eyes, you are sorely tempted. 

Little do you know a certain professor watches from the window of his office with narrowed dark eyes, and stews. 

When critique time comes next class it seems like he is extra hard on the young man, nitpicking to the extreme, and it carries a definite weight coming from the forbidding figure that is Professor Wick, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his blackhole gaze fixed mercilessly upon the art, and then the artist. Wick finishes with the recommendation that Matt would do well to focus more on his art and less on other distractions. 

The young man does not try to flirt with you again in class. In fact, he won’t even meet your eyes, and you can tell he’s crushed. 

Though he sits impassively at his desk in the corner, Professor Wick enjoys a bone-deep satisfaction over this small victory. 

He can’t stop himself, from thinking of you as his. 

-Maybe because you feel a little sorry for Matt, you go to his show at a dive bar not far from your apartment. He plays the bass, not badly, and you'd be a liar if you claimed watching his unfairly sized hands skillfully moving across the fretboard didn't do something to you. You sit at the bar with a gin and tonic, telling yourself you’re there to watch but not with him. What could be wrong with that? Even still, when he picks you out in the crowd he shoots you a shy smile that pulls at your heartstrings. 

The bar is packed, a mix of people from all walks of life. The lights are low, visibility in the glow of neon lights paltry at best. Just for a moment, you swear you see a familiar tall dark form in the crowd at the other end of the bar. 

This does not seem like Professor Wick’s scene…but stranger things have happened? 

You find yourself sitting up straighter, for some reason your heart racing double-time. You search the shadows of the close-pressed crowd, but you do not see him again, and you chide yourself that you were mistaken. 

You shouldn’t be as disappointed as you are, but you cannot shake the feeling that weighs upon your skin. Clearly you are seeing things, but…you wish it had been him, and suddenly all you want is to go home. 

You stick it out to the intermission, when Matt wades through the crowd to get to you across the bar. It takes him a while–you are not the only girl in the audience who has come to see him, and you are heartened that he won’t be alone if he doesn’t want to be. “Hey,” he says with a shy smile when he finally makes it to your side. 

“Hey. You guys are great.”

“Thanks. Want to step outside with me?” 

The two of you lean on the brick wall in the alley while he partakes of a smoke. Neither of you have said much. You can’t tell if the silence is awkward, or if he’s like you, and doesn’t mind the quiet. The air is crisp outside; fall has arrived, and you pull your coat closer around you. “Cold?” Matt lifts his arm in invitation, offering you his body heat like you are a baby bird he could tuck under his wing. It’s tempting, but you just can’t shake this weird feeling like you shouldn’t be here. 

“I’m ok.” 

He nods, weighing you with that sad dark gaze, and you wonder for the umpteenth time what’s wrong with you. “Want…to hang out after the show?” 

“I…have to work in the morning.” It’s true. You have to open the bookstore, your steady gig that pays most of your bills, though that doesn’t usually keep you from staying up late. 

“Oh..” He nods, like you’ve answered more than just that question for him, but he’s cool about it in a way that you’re grateful for, even if it breaks your heart for some reason. 

“I guess…I better get back inside.”

“Ok.” 

“See you around?” 

“See you in class.” He makes a pained little sound, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his plush lips. 

You turn to go, ready to walk home, when he calls out to you. 

“Hey. Wait.” 

He closes the distance between you, even daring to tug you a little by the lapel of your coat, and you sense his intention a moment before he executes. You turn your head, kissing him on the cheek instead. He groans with disappointment, but also a self-deprecating huff of laughter that you have to admit is adorable. “Alright. Later, y/n.”      

He disappears through the service door, and you make your way down the broken sidewalk with your hands in your pockets and a dissatisfied static inside that has nothing to do with Matt. 

It won’t be a long walk, though it is cold. You are regretting your decision to wear a skirt, even with tights and cute boots. Maybe you need a longer coat. Maybe you need a few more brain cells, or maybe you could even get a goddamn grip. 

You are halfway home when the purr of a loud engine draws your attention, a moment before a black Porsche pulls up to the curb beside you. 

TBC...

___

masterlist/chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[twstfanblog]

*~Murder Movie Madness~* PT 1

A/N: YO! Super excited to finally share this fic with you guys!!!! You get two parts in quick succession and another two tomorrow before the final part on Halloween! Enjoy the fic! Word Count: 2K Pairings: First-year poly minus Ortho and Yuu Warnings: Swearing, Me typing out a country accent

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A dear server friend, @transguydeuce was able to draw art for this! It'll be at the ending of this part and I'm so excited for everyone to see how amazing their art is!!!

Yuu hadn't realized they didn't know of any of the horror movies of Twisted Wonderland, not until their second Halloween was coming up.  A choice of movie for reviewing that week during the Film Research club was vetoed. Every other member saying the movie was ‘too scary’.

While the easiest and most obvious answer would be to ask Vil or even Idia for recommendations. They instead went the fun route and invited their Firstie group to a movie madness marathon. Each freshman was tasked with bringing a copy of their favorite horror movie for judgment. By the end of the marathon, they'd all vote on who's movie was scariest. A contest that Yuu wasn't shy on already claiming victory over. Something that had Epel already seething and stating he was going to find a movie so scary that Yuu was going to actually cry during it.

Soon their movie night approached, Ramshackle's lounge area was decked out with spooky and kooky Halloween decoractions. The large square-shaped coffee table filled to the brim with snacks and drinks for the coming marathon. Grim was pacified from wrecking the area in a tantrum, allowed to eat a bit of each snack before making his way to Ignihyde to play whatever games he could whine Idia into letting him try. Yuu always found it funny that the dire beast loved hearing stories and playing video games, but he couldn't stand to sit still for a movie.

Epel, Deuce, and Ace had been first to arrive, bringing more snacks and carrying disks of movies. They all sat around the lounge, waiting for the other three of their group to arrive. Deuce had sat at the disk player, Ace leaned over his back and nitpicking at every little adjustment the other card soldier made to the screen display. Epel placed himself on a floor cushion, already dipping into the bowl of melted marshmallows and chocolate with a graham cracker cookie the Heartslabyul duo had brought as a gift from Trey.

The Pomefiore student threw a smug little smirk over his shoulder at Yuu taking up an entire couch for herself, “The movie ah brought is gonna scare yur pants off. Picked from a list of recommendations from Vil and everythin’. He even gave me money to spring for the best versions an' cuts.”

Yuu smiled from their place, raising an eyebrow and reaching over his head to grab a handful of colorful caramel popcorn, “Says the fucker who made me turn off Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory-”

“That tunnel scene was fucked and ya know it…”

“Still don't know what you're talking about.” Yuu smiled, rolling their eyes and turning away from a fuming Epel laughing under their breath, “I don't know what you're talking about, there wasn't a tunnel in that movie.”

“Stop gaslighting me-” Epel took a breath, calming himself and eating his cookie before it dripped any more of the sticky mixture down his hand. Chewing thoughtfully, Epel pointed at Yuu and spoke when his mouth was clear, “Shut ya whore mouth. Ah asked Vil specifically what were the scariest movies he knew of to make ya eat ya words.”

He shoved the disk container into Yuu's face, explaining the movie plot while she looked at the cover. It was, painfully basic in Yuu's opinion, though they could find little details that made it interesting. The title of ‘Haunting Grounds’ was across the top in a stylized font, a group of stereotypical teens or college kids were all squished onto a couch with various expressions of fear and terror holding bright red party cups. A weird scene but the more Yuu looked at the cover the more they found had been snuck in to show it was a horror film. Blood leaking from under the couch, the slash marks along the back walls, How roughed up the people looked, the ominous figure silhouetted in the center behind the group seen from the illuminated bay window.

Epel tapped at the case, black painted nails tapping at an out-of-place red dot in the corner of the cover, “With the extra funds Vil gave me, Ah was even able to get the immersive copy. We gotta watch it first and really get the scene set for the rest of them.”

“Gotta set dress for a shit show, huh?”

Sebek, Jack, and Ortho arrived to the scene of Epel and Yuu rolling around on the floor fighting, the two smaller freshmen spitting insults at each other. Soon, everyone was seated and picking at the spread of snacks while Deuce gave the disk player a final check as he prepared each movie to play back to back so that no one would have to get up.

Ortho held out his hand, smiling with his eyes toward Epel, “Epel Felimer, may I see the disk case you brought? I wish to look at the reviews for the movies tonight!”

With the case in hand, Ortho had only just loaded the movie overview before his eyes caught the red dot at the corner of the case. His eyes widen, stuttering slightly, “O-oh! Epel Felimer, I don't have an issue with it but have the others agreed to engage in such an experience?”

“Huh?” Seeing Ortho hold up the case and point to the dot he smirked once again. “Oh yeah. Don't worry. Ah got the green light from Vil on how good this movie is. The immersion feature is just to scare us a bit more.”

“...” Ortho's brows furrowed down, an air of seriousness so deadly it made everyone around the couch pause, “Epel Feilmer, a pink dot is immersive, a red dot means interactive.”

“...Fuck.” Epel whipped back around, a knee braced against the coffee table as he tried to pull Deuce back, “DEUCE, WAIT-”

“Huh-”  Deuce had turned around, his questioning tone cut short as his finger pressed the play button and the room went dark.

As their eyes suddenly snapped open, Yuu was painfully aware that the sun fucking hurt to look at, “Oh God, the fuck? It's like 8pm, why is the sun out-where am I? Hello!?”

They looked around in disbelief, Sage Island was just dipping into Fall, leaves turning crunchy and temperatures dropping by the day. Instead, they found themselves in lush summer grasses, tall and leafy trees in almost nauseatingly hot air. They look down, seeing their comfortable fall loungewear replaced by a simple V-neck tucked into denim capri pants and sneakers. Feeling something against their skin, they pulled a necklace tucked under their shirt out to find a heart-shaped locket with a photo of a completely different woman with an older man.

“What the fuck…?”

“YUU!? CAN YOU HEAR ME!?”

“Ace!?”

The woods weren't as big as they had seemed. Only a few steps and they found Ace and Sebek standing in a clearing, the other freshmen looking just as confused and in different clothes as well.

Ace was dressed sensibly, minus the open-toed sandals and layered top of a plain t-shirt and a comedically printed unbuttoned shirt. A baseball cap with several pins on it was a few feet away, no doubt supposed to be Ace’s.

Sebek…was in a sweater vest. The argyle top seemed to be too small yet fit him perfectly, he even had a little bowtie. Paired with pressed khaki shorts, matching knee socks and hiking boots, Yuu had to physically stop themselves from giving the half-fae a wedgie and demanding whatever money he had on his person.

The half-fae was awkward, standing as though he knew if he moved too fast the clothing would rip apart at its seams, “...This feels tight. I can tell it's not but it feels tight.”

Yuu placed a hand over their mouth but removed it to speak, “I wanna beat you up so bad right now.”

“I think I'd let you…”

Ace was looking around the treeline, hoping to spot another one of their group, “Juice!? Epel!? Jack!? You guys ok!?”

A familiar hulking figure comes from the bush. Jack was in a striped tank top, cargo shorts, hiking boots, and a varsity jacket tied around his waist. The closer he got, Yuu was able to see he had leather bracelets on each wrist and big gaudy ring on his right hand.

Ace looked at his boyfriend confused, pointing to something in his hands, “Where the fuck did you get a football?”

Jack looked down, only now seeming to realize he had a football in hand, “I…I don't…know…” He turned and threw the ball away, opening his mouth to speak only for everyone to jolt at the sound of Epel yelling in pain.

Sebek was already halfway through the trees, Jack hot on his heels with Yuu and Ace close behind, “Epel! Remain where you are! We are coming to you!”

The country boy was on the ground, the football beside him as he groaned and held his hands over his face. Sebek reached him first but stood back, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Jack stopped short too, looking at Epel's outfit with confused eyes, “O-oh…”

Epel glared at his boyfriends, standing up of his own accord as Ace and Yuu arrived to the other clearing, “Yeah, no, Ah'm fine. Ah'll get my own damn self up. Just got hit in the damn eyes with a ball and-...”

Yuu covered their mouth again, trying to fight the laughter struggling to escape them. Epel was basically in a bikini of an outfit. A small, brightly colored halter top that showed off his midriff, stark white booty shorts that had a rhinestone decal of a butterfly, and slightly heeled strappy sandals. Yuu also couldn't help but notice he even had a few thick metal bangles on.

“...” Epel gestured to himself, his voice coming out so loudly and angry that it was almost impossible to tell what he had just screamed, “WHO CHANGED ME INTO THIS!?”

Ace shrugged, looking Epel up and down with a slight smile, “I mean, it’s not bad.” “My damn ass is hanging out!” Epel tried to pull the shorts down, growing more frustrated as the shorts either showed more of the top bands of a thong he was wearing or pulling them up to have the bottom of his asschecks exposed

Jack tilted his head a bit, his ears pivoting around before he turned his head away, “I mean- Wait, I hear Deuce.”

“Where is he?”

“Guys!?” A rustle from bushes pulls their attention, the spade soldier walking out of the brush and into the clearing while pulling leaves out of his hair.

Deuce was in loose jean shorts, the edges frayed and a nearly see-through white button-up that was opened enough to show off his collarbones and top of his pecs. As he walked closer, Yuu noted that his skin was glistening and he had on a shark tooth necklace.

He was wiping at his exposed forearms and legs, a look of disgust on his face at the feeling on his skin, “I’m…I’m like oiled up. Is anyone else covered in oil? Why am I covered in oil?”

Sebek huffed lightly, gesturing to everyone else’s clothing before pointing at his own, “Why am I dressed this way but you all have decent wear for the environment?”

Epel scowled toward the taller boy, “Decent?”

Jack’s ears folded back, turning back to the group with a look of worry on his face, “I can’t hear Ortho.”

… The group descended back into a momentary panic, each of them breaking off into the woods screaming out for their last lost member.

They were on an island. At the very least it was in the middle of a lake and not an ocean like Ace had feared before Jack and Sebek were able to point out faint buildings in the distance. Epel had pointed out a boat speeding away from the island at a different shore. Running over (Epel annoyingly managing to nearly trip over every exposed root) they all shouted and tried to wave down an old man scowling at them to turn back around. He yelled back at them, shaking his hook hand at them, “I WARNED YA! I WARNED YA! I HOPE YUR CURSED JUST LIKE HE WAS!”

“COME BACK !?” Yuu sighed, holding their hands up to the sky as if to question the heavens, “Why the fuck are we here if this place is cursed!? Epel, your movie sucks!”

“Don't ya fucking blame this shit on me, ya COW-”

Jack’s ears were pressed to his head, dread starting to fill the other firsties while Epel and Yuu fought in the sand beside them, “Oh Seven, we’re in the movie…”

LOOK AT THIS! I love how they draw so much and Im so happy I got them to draw the firstie's outfits. Just imagine them in these the whole time honestly.