#but you gotta make sure they stay functional for the way you move through your life

[jess-abides]

This evening’s task was reclaiming the nightmare corner of the kitchen counter. It’s our catch-all - the first flat surface we encounter coming in from the garage, and I push everything down there when I need more space to cook. Not anymore! Now it’s one of my favorite spaces in the kitchen, so I’ll definitely be motivated to keep it picked up (and I’ve made it easier with the basket and mail pouch!)

#house things #kitchen lamp #this is one of my best tricks for problem areas: #make them into favorite spots instead #but you gotta make sure they stay functional for the way you move through your life #like I’m not gonna try to change where the mail goes #I’m just gonna get it off the counter

[jeanboyjean]

you're the worst - ft jean kirstein. mdni!!

summary: you and jean are rivaling lawyers on the partner track and it’s your firm’s xmas party. what better way to prove you’re better than him than to fuck him?

content: (nsfw) f! reader, rivals to lovers, coworkers, fucking at your work christmas function … in a storage closet!! f! oral receiving. p in v. unprotected sex oops. big dick jean, light choking

a/n: inspired by (actual irl) boyfriend's beef with his coworker. she recently got a promotion over him and he wont shut up about it so i was like wait … i gotta write this down this is a great idea HOLD AWN. their xmas function is next week and theres always drama!! enemies to lovers is THE TROPE for meee so i may expand on this later on and make a long fic but for now this is it. ty to @gallliard + @cowgirlikets for beta reading bc im goofy!! tag: @poopwons

2.7k words

String lights twinkle from the ceiling as people mill around you. Music is thumping from the large speakers near the DJ stand as you make your way to the bar to get another drink. Your law firm’s annual christmas party is in full swing right now and it's around halfway through the night - about the point where everyone’s finished their dinners and washing them down with drinks. The cocktail tables you had initially stood around at the start of the night, schmoozing with partners, have been cleared to form a crowded dance floor. You carefully thread your way between your coworkers while they let their hair down after yet another busy year.

When you finally reach the bar, you flag down the bartender and order another drink. In the holiday spirit, the firm had requested custom themed drinks and he sets down a very festive vodka cranberry in front of you. You're taking a sip, turning away to lean your back against the counter when a figure next to you catches your eye.

You sigh. It’s your coworker, Jean Kirstein - a.k.a the bane of your existence.

The two of you had joined the firm at the same time as new grads and had moved up the ranks together. Now, he’s your biggest competition, the one thing standing in the way of you becoming junior partner. He’s good, you’ll give him that. You both are. The two of you are the firms biggest rising stars, pulling clients and racking up billables like it’s nothing.

Unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a dick. At first, you couldn’t tell if his cocky persona had been an act, but after working alongside him these years, you’ve just come to accept that he is naturally a loud, smug asshole. The breaking point had been when you had stayed up late one night in your third year, working on a proposal, only for Jean to rock in the next day with his own that overwrote everything you had done. You’ve never really forgiven him for stealing your thunder and have used every opportunity you can to shine over him. Since then, he’s been nothing more than your rival and enemy. This was even more so lately, what with the announcement coming up next week to reveal who would be getting a promotion.

Jean turns his head to follow the bartender and meets your eyes. You quickly turn away and sip your drink.

“Hey,” you hear him say. He’s moved across to stand next to you, leaning his side on the counter.

Inwardly, you tense a little, always on guard when he interacts with you. “Hi Kirstein,” you say stiffly. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking how good it’s going to feel when they call out my name for junior partner,” he grins smugly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, in your dreams.”

“Not my dreams if it’s a fact,” he sings and you bristle at his words. There’s no way he could know this for a fact. Everything’s been kept under wraps and you know you have just as much of a chance as him. You both went well over budget and the partners love you equally. It’s anyone’s game at this point.

He laughs. “I’m just kidding. I’m 99% sure it’s gonna be me but who knows what could happen. You might still have a shot.”

“Fuck off, Kirstein,” you snap at him, getting ready to leave.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He waves his hands. “It could be either of us. Or maybe even Reiner might pull an undercover steal and take it from us.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. Reiner’s good but he’s far from partner material so you know Jean's taking the piss.

Jean straightens up, demeanour becoming a little more serious. “You know … I think it might actually be you this time.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Are you playing mind games with me, Kirstein?”

“Nah. I think you deserve it, that's all. You worked really hard on that last merger with the Reeves company and it paid off. All the partners are raving about it.”

His voice is sincere for once and your mouth hangs open in shock. You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation with Jean that wasn’t the two of you throwing jabs back and forth. It’s no secret to anyone that you can’t stand the other’s guts.

It's strange. For some reason, he's smiling at you and that fact that you don't feel the need to snap back at him makes you want to smack him.

The lighting at the bar brightens up his sandy brown hair like a halo around his face and his eyes glow as they stare intently at you. Fuck you Jean Kirstein and your perfect hair and your perfect face.

“You look nice today,” he admits, gaze travelling down to give you a once over. The surprises won’t stop coming.

“Yeah, you clean up well too I guess.” It's not a lie - he's definitely attractive. The problem with Jean though is he knows it. You have to be careful with what you say so as to not feed his already bloated ego.

He smirks, obviously pleased by your admission. He hums, eyes wandering around at your surrounding before landing back on you. There’s a split second where you swear they flicker down to your lips briefly. “You wanna go dance?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want to dance ... with me,” you say flatly, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, why not?” He gestures to his body. “You know you want to.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, Kirstein. I’ll indulge you this one time since you so clearly want to.”

Whirling around, you down your drink then stalk away to the dance floor. You hear him snicker behind you as he follows. Once you find a free spot, you turn to face him, suddenly a little unsure. He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he steps in closer to you. His hands come to rest on your waist and your body lights up at his touch. Hesitantly, your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you let the music guide your body, alcohol pumping through your blood.

After a few minutes, his head dips down and you shiver when his nose grazes your neck. Lips at your ear, he murmurs, “I mean it by the way. You look really good.”

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for me now, Kirstein,” you say in response, trying your hardest to hide how his words rock you to your core. He doesn’t say anything and just laughs, shoulders shaking.

When you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on you, glowing molten lava. Your breath catches in your throat. It feels like the world disappears beneath your feet as you find yourself trapped in his gaze.

Wanting to break free of the moment, you spin around. His hands are still on your waist so you find yourself pressed with your back against his chest. His grip tightens, hips still rocking to the music. You let yourself be moved along too, trying your best to calm your racing heart.

The song is slow and bass heavy, soulful vocals crooning - a little sensual for a conservative law firm like this. When the last few notes trail off, his head drops again to your shoulder and you can feel more than hear him groan.

“Shit,” you hear him mutter. He goes to move away from you but it’s too late. There's an unmistakable hardness pressing firm against your ass. You still and slowly turn to face him.

He has the decency to look embarrassed now, sheepish expression on his face as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I just got carried away. Please … pretend nothing happened.”

You stare at him, blood thumping in your veins. Despite everything, heat pools in your stomach while a wetness builds between your legs. You shake your head and grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

“What-”

You drag him through the crowd, turning into the corridor towards the bathrooms. With a tug, you pull him into a storage closet and shut the door behind you. He looks at you in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What are we doing in here?”

You roll your eyes and step in towards him. “Do you want to do this or not?”

His eyes widen and they flicker from yours to your mouth and his breath catches in his throat when your tongue slides out to lick your lips.

Without a word he closes the distance between the two of you. His hands come to grip your jaw as he presses his mouth hard against yours. You share a messy kiss, your hands tangling in his hair, his sliding down your body.

He places wet kisses down your neck as one hand cups a breast, the other groping at your ass. You moan, head falling back as he sucks into your sensitive skin and pinches a nipple through your dress.

“I want to take this off,” he almost pleads, tugging at the fabric. “Can I take it off?”

You nod, letting him unzip and feeling it fall to the floor. His eyes roam your body. “Fuck. You’re so hot,” he groans.

He walks you back until your back hits the closed door behind you. Kisses trail down your body as he falls to his knees and hooks a leg up over his shoulder. He licks a wet stripe up your inner thigh, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening folds. Wasting no time, he dives forward to lick at your wet slit.

“You taste so good,” he moans into your skin. You’re breathless above him, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he works his magic.

He takes your sensitive clit into his mouth, swirling around with his tongue and sucking. A finger dips into your folds and you clench tight at the intrusion. He curls it inside you, searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves and it’s obvious when he finds it because you jerk above him, moaning in delight. You feel his lips lift in a smirk and he’s relentless now. Another finger joins and he’s pumping, massaging your slick walls, still sucking at your clit. Your toes curl, heat building in your core.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to feel you cum on my face,” he moans into your soaking cunt. At his words, it only takes a little more before you feel yourself let go and your orgasm takes over. Waves of pleasure rip through you as you pulse and squeeze around him. Your knees buckle and he catches you with one hand, pinning your hip against the surface behind you.

He grins as he removes his fingers, sucking them clean before wiping his face with the back of his hand. He stands, pulling your face into a messy open mouthed kiss. It feels nasty, the way you're panting into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You reach down to palm at his crotch, feeling his hard cock straining against his pants. Eagerly, you pull them down and release him, feeling him hot and heavy in your hand. With all of his arrogance, you had been sure he was overcompensating for a lack of something downstairs but now you're sorely (or maybe thankfully) mistaken. He's easily the biggest you've ever had.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he says.

“Oh,” you say in response, but all you can think is, damn he's big. You shake your head. “I’m clean and on the pill so I’m fine if you are.”

Jean grins. “Sounds good to me.”

He kisses you again before spinning you around to face the door. Your hands fall in front to catch you and he presses into your back. His cock is hard against your ass and he takes a moment to grind against you slowly. He guides it with his hand to slide a few times over your slit, gathering the wetness. You hold in a whine, already a little overstimulated when he finally lines himself up and pushes in slowly. There's a little resistance but you relish in the feeling of stretching around him.

“So tight,” he moans into your hair, cock throbbing inside you.

Jean moves slowly to begin with, letting you adjust to his size but it’s not long before his pace picks up and he’s fucking you in earnest. His hips thrust against your ass, cock sliding in and out, reaching areas you didn’t think were possible. You moan as you rock back into him, desperately meeting his movements.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your eyes screw shut as you feel him driving in relentlessly, letting your body go limp in pleasure. One of his hands grips the door next to yours, while the other reaches up to wrap around your throat to hold you up against him. He’s only resting his hand there really, but it makes you clench around him even tighter.

At the sensation, he hisses, hips stuttering. “Oh, you like that?” His hips snap in hard. “I knew you would, you dirty girl.”

His fingers tighten around your neck, lightly cutting off your air supply. It’s enough to make your head spin, stars forming in your vision. He pants into your hair, softly muttering curses as he pounds in quicker. You’re at his mercy now, moaning freely, as your orgasm builds again.

Legs shaking in the effort to hold yourself up, you lose yourself in the moment. Electricity streaks through your body, lighting up all of your nerves. The lack of air is making your limbs tingle, heightening your senses. The hand he’s using to steady himself falls down to your hip, sliding down to your pussy. You jerk when his fingers find your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear. With a few quick circles at your sensitive nub, you're crying out as you cum around his cock. Your walls clench tight, uncontrollably and your hands claw at the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans, hips stuttering, all finesse out the window. “You’re squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna fucking come.”

He fucks into you without abandon, using both hands to grip your hips tight enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the slick sound of your skin meeting each other filling the air, before burying into you all the way as he cums. His hips falter and slow as he reaches his high, spilling deep inside you. His forehead drops onto your shoulder, as he tries to catch his breath and carefully, he pulls out, his cum leaking out of your cunt down your thigh.

You fall forward, catching yourself with your forearms against the door. You turn around to face him. His hair has fallen out of its careful styling, a few stray strands sticking on his damp forehead. He grins at you, blinking slowly, lids heavy with contentment. You’re a little surprised when he dips down to capture your mouth in another kiss. His lips are more gentle now, movements softer as his hands lightly hold your jaw. When he pulls away, you’re breathless and frazzled, completely taken aback by the entire sequence of events.

“You good?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You nod in response, racking your brain to think of something to say but coming up empty.

“That was so hot,” he says in your silence. “I knew all that tension between us would lead to something great.” He smirks. “Didn’t think it would be so easy to get you like putty in my hands.”

You straighten at his words, batting his hands from your warm cheeks. “Fuck off, Kirstein. It was just unexpected. You’ll see. Next time you’re the one that’s gonna be putty.”

His chest heaves with laughter as he bends down to pick up your dress and hand it to you. “Next time, huh? Good to know.”

“You're the worst,” You groan, making a face at him as you step into your dress and slide the straps back up over your shoulders. You turn around, holding your hair up with your hands to let him zip it back up.

A shiver runs down your spine when his fingers graze your bare skin. He presses a light kiss against the side of your exposed neck. “Let’s get back out there then,” he murmurs into your skin.

You pretend your legs don’t buckle a little at the feeling of his touch and shake yourself off, smoothing down your dress. You can still feel the ghost of him inside you and his sticky cum dripping down your inner thighs.

Next time, Jean Kirstein. You’ll see.

#attack on titan #jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein #aot x reader #✎ . chloe wrote smth

[gallusrostromegalus]

ok so re: sternritter i gotta ask, whats the plan for my girl gigi? she's a horrible awful gremlin baby but i cannot help but love her immortal tgirl swag.

also, are there any sternritter who got incredibly underused in the story that you've significantly rewritten so far?

As it stands, Gigi gets to live, but she is going to have to sit through a VERY unpleasant lecture about how yes, Gender is Fake, Political Organizations are Fake, and to an extent the 'Line' between living and dead is fake but Bodily Autonomy and Informed Consent are VERY, VERY REAL and you will *fucking* respect them because the Gotei-13 is the home of monsters.

For better or for worse, the person she's getting the lecture from is Tama Nikuya

---

Tama: Sure, you're a Monster too, Miss Gewelle -that's why I like you so much and am even extending you this offer- but I promise there are much worse things serving in the Guard than were dreamt of in your philosophy. Horrors, artificial and natural alike, well within the comprehension of your intellect regardless of gender, but no less awful. Worse, perhaps, because you understand what's going to happen if you put one drop of blood out of line-

Gigi, twitching: Urrgh!

Tama: Don't gurgle at me in that tone! Tama: You do understand, don't you?

(warning for body horror, parasitism, mind/body control, discussions of violence, transphobia and abuse under the cut) (Bleach is a pretty dark series and the Fic is E-rated accordingly)

Gigi, shaking her head as much as she can: Nglk!

Tama: What part don't you understand?

Gigi: Thzzg-? ThhZomg-!?

Tama, head cocked sideways, squinting as she tries to make sense of what Gigi is saying: 'the zog-'? The Zombie? Oh for fucks sake Gigi, we're well past that.

Gigi: Bugh-? Haaauuuu?

Tama: Alright alright, if it will help. The Zombie relies on some of your blood reaching my brain, or replacing a large portion of my own blood with yours, through which you exert your reiki, and thus control my body, right?

Gigi, Blinking Slowly: ... Gigi: Haugh- Haugh gid you vigure thad oud??

Tama, taking a deep, disappointed sigh: Babygirl, it's not that hard. That's very basic Spiritual Dominion magic. Don't get me wrong, you're very good at it and the sheer number of targets you can control is really impressive but as far as techniques go, it's not terribly complex or hard to counter.

Tama, Gestuting at where Gigi is awkwardly kneeling on the floor, paralyzed: Take the thing you've got- that's an enhanced strain of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis- you've heard of Cordyceps, I'm sure- that I've worked with to function inside humans- REAL pain in the ass by the way, Humans are insanely immune to infection and parasitism compared to most organisms-

Akon, holding an extremely large laser gun, not currently cocked but still at the ready: This is your requested reminder to stay on topic, Sir.

Tama: What? Oh, thanks- but Cordyceps is fun because instead of bothering to control the half-assed mess that is a mammal's neural system, it straight-up structurally takes over the large muscle groups! Just suppress the autoimmune response enough by giving the fungus an antihistamine release function too, and that sucker can crawl into every major support structure you have in under a week!

Akon: Yeah, I'm not sure 'Fun' is the right word here.

Tama: Don't knock it until you've tried it!

Akon, debating becoming the server technician for the 9th again: I'll take your word for it, Sir.

Tama, poking Gigi's arm just below where a long spire of the fungus is sprouting out of her shoulder, one of several growing out of her body and impacting her ability to move, including speaking: I'd say you're about 40% Fungus by weight right now, mostly your skeletal muscles, and those do what I say, which is why you're sitting down and listening while I try to change your mind. Tama, giving Gigi an encouraging thumbs up: -And why you still have a mind for me to change! Tama, giving Gigi a comforting pat on the shoulder next to the fungal spire: I have a lot of faith in your ability to make the right choices when presented with all the information, Miss Gewelle. If I thought I had to change your mind for you, I'd have pulled out the Hypomyces lactifluorum!

Gigi, watching Akon visibly shudder behind Tama: ...uhh. Gigi: Bugh. The Zomgee..?

Tama: Oh, right, The Zombie. Yes, yes- Reiki Domination is pretty tough to resist, especially from someone in your spiritual weight class, but, ah- Well, you've run into two big problems here Gigi.

Tama, sitting down on the floor next to Gigi: First problem is the use of blood as an infection mechanism. Tama, cheerfully, as though giving constructive criticism in an introductory art class: Honestly? Not a bad choice! Blood-bourne infections are some of the hardest to resist, and Forigen Reiki is a PAIN to purge from the bloodstream unless you flush the entire system. Most people, as you have seen, are doomed!

Tama, wincing: ...But I'm not most people. Tama, pondering: ... Come to think of it "People" might be a more correct term for what I am, but my situation is pretty radically different from "most" people!

Gigi, still defiant: Whad- Whaddafug ARE yu?

Tama, gesturing to indicate the situation is about as clear as mud, or morphology-based taxonomy: I- Well. It's long and not really all that funny story, but I got stuck on the wrong side of a a version of the Kodoku Bug Thunderdome curse- you know, the inside- for over eight hundred years with a whole mess of Hollows, Obake, and other nasty things and I went to some pretty extreme measures to survive. Tama, with a sad sigh: To make a long story short- I don't have blood anymore. Or a brain. Tama, frowning in contemplation: ...Or I'm ALL brain, it sort of depends on your definition of 'brain'-

Akon: Topic, Sir.

Tama: Thanks Akon! -But from my perspective, your blood is just another snack with a little bit of Reiki spice on top! Which brings me to your other problem.

Tama: You hit hard Gigi! Real hard! And you really should be proud of the degree of concentration you have! But like I said, the Gotei-13 is the home of monsters, and there wasn't exactly a burger joint or an opportunity to farm inside the Kodoku. ...I survived because I kind of literally ate things like you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

[There is a long moment of silence as Gigi processes that statement, it's earlier compainion statement about what Gigi's blood was like for Tama, and the general implication of those on Gigi's circumstances]

Gigi: ...Gid I daste gud?

Tama, ears flicking up to listen better: What's that?

Gigi: Uck! Gigi, wide eyed with terror but somehow this situation has not ended in catastrophe yet, and she might be riding the adrenaline as far as it will go: ...Gid I datse good?

Tama: HAH!

Akon, turning around because he can't face this at 7AM without coffee: NO!!

Tama, teasing: Yes, you do taste very good, or at least the aperitif of blood you threw in the thing I use as a face did!

Gigi, giggling a bit in fear like a Hyena: Oh! Dhad'z Good! Gigi, stopping as the rest of the sentence catches up with her: Waid. Gigi: Whad Do you MEANg, 'ting you uze az a fage'? Gigi, with increasing horror: Whag- Whag ARE You?

Tama, giving Gigi a light, encouraging punch in the shoulder: You're a smart girl Gigi! You can figure it out if you put your mind to it! Tama, counting off the datapoints on her paw-pads: I don't have blood, or a brain, I lived underground with nothing but corpses to eat for a few centuries and my go-to restraint method is a parasitic...

Gigi, a horrible new world of possibilities opening to her like the lid coming off a tub of very expired sour cream: ...Mu-Mushgroom?

Tama, giving her two thumbs up: You got it! Tama: "Mushroom" is probably more specific than you intended, but you're not wrong! The part of me standing here lecturing you is more or less the organ I use for sex and sometimes paperwork!

Akon: Speaking of, the division W-2's still need to go out-

Tama: Akon, we're in the middle of an apocalypse. If the council tries to make everyone pay taxes on time this year, the Old Man won't have the chance to burn the government chambers down before the peasants do it for him. Chillax.

Tama, returning her attention to Gigi: It's probably why I'm so cheerful and down to party too! You know. Because I'm a *Fungi*!

Gigi, staring blankly: ...

Tama, wilting a bit: -A. Fun? Guy? A Fungi?

Gigi, starting to cry big, ugly genuine tears: Uh-uh-uuuuuhhhnnn...

Tama, trying to console Gigi with a hug that definitely makes things worse: ...You're right it'd probably be funnier if you didn't have a parasitic fungus rapidly taking over your person and forcing you to sit still and listen to a genuine freak of science tell you about Cannibalism. Tama, giving Gigi a little shake of encouragement: But you see how this makes my point, right? This isn't very fun for you, is it?

Gigi, suddenly locking up like a badly taxidermied fox: ...

Tama, staring blankly: ..? Tama, ears slowly rising as understanding dawns on her face: Oh?

Gigi, face rapidly alternating vivid shades of pink and white as her emotions battle for dominance, before settling on 'Scaroused': -Uh...

Tama, delighted: OH!

Akon, enraged: OH. MY GOD.

Tama, pointing at him and hissing: You are the LAST person who gets to kinkshame anyone young man! Tama, pointing back at Gigi: At least SHE knows how to have fun!

Akon: I'm gonna transfer to the Ninth and never, ever leave the server room again.

Tama: If you think you can withstand the emotional toil of leaving the mass spectrometer in my hands, be my guest.

Akon: :(

Gigi: Uh?

Tama: He's spiritually bonded to a particularly finicky piece of lab equipment that hates me, like how some tween girls become spiritually bonded to giant murderous equines, which also tend to hate me. Don't worry about it. Tama: Back on topic, this does explain a few things. You DO understand that your feelings about this situation are unusual and given that most humans and their spiritually powerful derivatives experience pain and fear from having their autonomy restricted and bodies invaded by parasites, How do you think being made into a Zombie feels for other people?

Gigi: ...Bahd?

Tama, nodding enthusiastically and making her ears flop in agreement: That's right! Bad! Tama, settling down a bit more to explain things carefully to Gigi: See, the thing is- even monsters like us need to get along with other people. Tama: I know a lot, but nowhere near enough to enjoy the benefits of civilization all on my own- I don't know how to fix a toilet, or fill out grant applications or stand in the same room as the mass spectrometer without breaking it, so it's really, really good I've got people Akon over there, who like me, who can, and more importantly are willing to do those things for me!

Gigi, annoyed: Gyou woulgnd AVV to-

Tama: hang on, hang on-

[Tama pokes a few points on Gigi's face and throat, using Reiki to disconnect some of the Cordyceps parasite, then pulls the spire that was developing under Gigi's tongue out. It's much larger than it looked, and makes Gigi's throat wiggle as she removes it.]

Tama: Oh hell, that shouldn't have been there. How were you even talking around that thing girl?

[Tama tosses the fungal spire aside and offers Gigi a water bottle. Gigi takes a few sips before nodding and Tama puts it away.

Tama: Okay, try again-

Gigi: Ugh- You wouldn't HAVE to get along with tall, drak and grumpy back there if he was a zombie!

Tama, disappointed: ... Tama, taking another deep sigh: ...Okay, let's say I zombify Akon-

[Akon cocks and aims the Laer Gun, which whines ominously as it charges]

Tama: WHICH I AM NOT GOING TO DO FOR REASONS I'M ABOUT TO ELABORATE ON, PUT THAT DOWN-

[Akon turns off and lowers the lazer gun, still glaring.]

Tama: Thank you. Tama: I know you're still getting used to how most people have conversations, but that was a normal way to discuss a theoretical scenario and not me about to turn you into a Zombie. Do you understand?

Akon: ...Ues, Sir.

Tama: He used to work for an Evil Clown, don't worry about it- Alright, Let's say I was a micromanaging-type moron, and I decided to zombify Akon instead of just getting along with him. I'd lose all his expertise immediately. No more functioning mass spectrometer or bathrooms.

Gigi, haughty: Mine do.

Tama: Pardon?

Gigi: My zombies keep. most of their skills and personality. At least the ones I make out of corpses. Gigi: Akon could still fix the mass-thingie and if you zombify the Grant Committee you don't even have to ASK for funding.

Tama, intrigued: ...Do they? That's good to know, I'll want to hear more about that later-but that still supports my point.

Tama: Alright, HYPOTHETICALLY I Zombify Akon, and the Grant Committee- well now, the person who's choosing when the mass spectrometer gets fixed and who gets grant money I don't need is ME, and I already have WAY too much work to do, I don't have initiative to spare for them! I got stuff I want to do! I can't micromanage everyone, everywhere all the time! Tama: It's literally easier, more efficient and frankly, way, WAY less stressful to just get along with people and live in a society than to try to DIY one out of corpses.

Gigi: ...I guess.

Tama: So that's my question Gigi. Tama: Are you capable of respecting people's bodily autonomy and personal space to get along with them?

Gigi, frowning and biting her lip: ...

Akon: That doesn't sound like a 'Yes'.

Gigi: It's not though. It's not less stressful to just get along with people. Gigi: That's- That's WHY I learned how to make zombies in the first place. I'd. I'd TRY to get along, dammit! But any time I let people make choices, they chose to get up my ass about my name, or cut off all my hair, or send me off to 'camp', or beat the shit out of me, or- or lock me in the mausoleum and leave me to starve instead of just call me my name or admit they had a daughter- Gigi: ... Gigi: So it was- Gigi: -It was easier with bodies. Gigi: Bodies don't insist you're a boy or call you a freak or take you to a 'private institution' to 'help you get better' where they strap electric paddles to your head and run a million volts through you- Gigi: Dead people are SO MUCH EASIER to get along with! They don't think you're a creep! They don't think at all! Gigi: I mean, why should I-? Why should I try to get along with people who have already made up their minds that they're never, ever gonna get along with me??

Akon: ... Akon: ...I mean, you are kind of a creep-

Tama: -AKON!

Akon: Hang on I'm not done! You are a bit of a creep, but it's not the girl thing, it's the zombie thing!

Gigi: Oh, just because you're scared of a dead body-!

Akon: GIRLIE I'VE BEEN DISSECTING CORPSES SINCE BEFORE I COULD TALK I AIN'T FUCKIN' SCARED AND I AIN'T DISAGREEING WITH YOU- YEAH. IT IS EASIER TO TALK TO A CORPSE THAN A PERSON. I SPENT PRETTY MUCH ALL MY ADOLESCENCE IN THE 12TH DIVISION'S MORGUE BECAUSE TALKIN' TO LIVE PEOPLE SCARED THE FUCK OUTTA ME!!

Gigi: WIMP! YOU HAVE NO IDEA-

Akon: NO, I THINK I FUCKIN' DO! Akon: YOU KNOW WHERE URAHARA HIRED ME OUT OF? Akon: PRISON. Akon: I GOT THROWN IN PRISON WHEN I STILL HAD ALL MY BABY TEETH, *JUST* BECAUSE I WAS SO CURIOUS ABOUT BODIES. JUST BECAUSE I MADE PEOPLE UNCOMFORTABLE! PRISON-PRISON! THE MAGGOT'S NEST, WHERE THEY KEEP WAR CRIMINALS AND WORSE! Akon: YEAH, TALKIN' TO LIVE PEOPLE SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME, BECAUSE THE LAST TIME I TALKED TO SOMEONE, I LITERALLY GOT SENT TO HELL!

Gigi: -!

Akon: Captain Nikuya is RIGHT, the Gotei-13 is the home of Monsters- and the twelfth has got some of the most freakish and frightening ones of the whole guard! Akon: But I'll take the self-vivisecting, species-transgressing, only-barely-human Monsters any day of the week over the maggot's nest because we're all shamelessly, gloriously monstrous together, and the ONE damn rule of the monster's ball is to ASK before you fuck around with someone's stuff, especially their body. Akon: Not "Don't mess with someone's body", Not "Don't be weird", Not "try to be normal". It's "Be freaks and monsters, but also friends."

Akon: God help me if Nemuri ever finds out, but that's why Mayuri is still in that flask. Most of us have a pretty good idea how to isolate his consciousness again, but they way he- I'd have killed him the week after he took over if I had any idea how.

Akon: That's the rule Gigi. No violating anyone's right to live as they are. Akon: That's the difference between a monster- someone people are scared of just for being how they are- and the kind of FILTH that needs to be scrubbed off the earth. Akon: Do you understand Gigi? Nobody gives a shit if you're a girl on purpose or whatever- Fuck, I can think of a few colleagues who'd put themselves on a list for you to reanimate them when they die no matter how much of them actually comes back. It's overwritin' people's minds and controlling bodies BY FORCE. Akon, putting down the gun and patting his coat for his cigarettes: If I understood you right, that's more or less what people tried to do to you, isn't it? Tell you how to act, who you were, by whatever means necessary?

Gigi: ...fuck you.

Akon: Fuck me yourself, you coward.

Gigi: ... Gigi: So what am I supposed to do when someone gets up in my face again? Smile and play nice? Roll over so they can kick my guts out?

Tama: Oh, no- If they violate the "Don't mess with other people's autonomy" rule, all bets are off! That's why when you tried to murder me and Akon a few minutes ago, I was right to infect you with a parasitic fungus to protect myself and stop you! Tama: In fact, the sooner and harder you react to that shit, the less people will try to cross that line, so if anyone tries to fuck with you, you absolutely can and should make an example of them!

Akon, holding up his cigarette to ask if it's alright, and wating for Tama's nod: -If anyone tried that shit with me I'd absolutely turn them into a living educational exhibit on why people need to have skin, but genuinely? Nobody in soul society gives a shit what's in your pants unless they're your doc or fuckin' you.

Gigi, rolling her eyes: Sure, sure-

Tama, laughing: No! Really! It was a surprise for me too.

Gigi: You're lying to me.

Tama, shrugging: Okay, don't believe me, believe your eyes- Tama, ticking people off on her paw-pads: You saw the peacock earlier, he's a seated officer and Baldy is his Husband. Tama: Their boss is the most rampantly bisexual slut I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and the primary load-bearing member of the captainacy polycule-

Akon, starting to giggle: -Yeah I bet he can bear a lot of loads-

Tama, casually plucking off another fungal spire to half-heartedly throw at him: Oh, and the guy who had this job before me IS pregnant with his second child!

Gigi, incredulous: ...The guy with the stupid hat that looks like off-brand Shaggy from Scooby-Doo? That looks more a beer belly.

[Akon: Loud, Snorting Laughter]

Tama: Okay, you're right, it looks more like a beer gut than a baby right now, but PLEASE don't tell him that- He's in the weepy mood swings phase right now, and won't get his sense of humor back until the third trimester. Tama: We' re all placing bets on when Baby Kegger is gonna be born if you want in on the action.

Gigi, Biting her lip and grimacing: I- I don't-

Tama, taking Gigi's hand: -You know firsthand how weird my body is. I'm not properly male or female- I've got at least 21,837 sexes within me because of the insane way I have to metabolically regulate my body. Tama, shrugging: I'm just female in conversation because language hasn't evolved the 12th-dimensional pronouns I'd need yet. But when I brought this up at a meeting, the only question I got from the old man was if my uniform would need altering. Tama: I mean. It did, but that's because I'm 4'6" and i get all my clothes in the children's section, but I'm still amused that that was the captain-general's polite way of asking if I'd need any accomodations.

Gigi: ...Promise it'll be okay?

Tama: I don't know how the war is going to turn out, but if you help us and stop making zombies, I promise I'll do everything I can to make it okay.

[Gigi manages a weak smile]

Akon, wheezing, and doing a terrible Scooby-Doo impresson: Ruh-roh! Rhe Rexperiments Breached Containment, And Raggy's rust Whadder broke!

[Gigi, snorting and giggling in spite of everything}

Tama: See? Now you're laughing. When was the last time a Zombie made you laugh?

Gigi, sniffling a bit as she giggles: ...never.

Tama: So, are you ready to give an alliance a shot?

Gigi: I- I guess?

Tama: You guess? I can't go to the captain-general with a mere hypothesis.

Gigi: ...Yes. Yes, I'm ready.

Tama, grinning: So you're going to be a good girl and keep your bodily fluids to yourself unless asked?

Gigi, turning bright pink: Y-yes!

Tama: Yes, what?

Gigi, going even redder: Yes, sir!

Tama, patting her head and releasing the hold on the Cordyceps, at least for now: ...Very good girl.

Akon, rolling his eyes: Uuuugh....

Tama, helping Gigi up: Hey! You know damn well that positive re-enforcement-

Akon, hefting his Lazer-Gun back onto his shoulder: -is an important part of interpersonal communication, reward the behavior you want to see yeah, yeah-

[Akon is about to turn to leave when a thought occurs to him and he stops and glares at Gigi]

Akon: ...You DO hit like a fuckin' truck.

Gigi, blushing and twirling her hair: Well, I mean-

Akon, pointing accusingly at Tama: I KNEW IT! YOU'RE NOT RECRUITING HER FOR THE WAR, YOU'RE RECRUITING HER FOR THE SHINIGAMI WOMEN'S ASSOCIATION INTRAMURAL CRICKET TEAM!!

Gigi: -the what?

Tama: And what if I am? It doesn't matter to you- The Shinigami Men's Association couldn't keep their wickets up if their lives depended on it!

Akon: -Call me when Matsumoto-taicho can bat out of the pitch!

Tama: Yeah, the fact that Rangiku and Hiyori both suck at it and you STILL lost by 203 points to us is not actually helping your case here.

Gigi: Is. Is cricket a sport?

Akon: SPORT? Cricket is an entire EVENT! It's a Way of Life! It's the philosphical ideal of-

Tama: Yes. Tama: It's a very silly sport, and his team sucks at it.

Gigi: Ooh! If we all live through this, I can be a cheerleader!

Tama, causing problems on purpose: Yeah!

Akon, sputtering with fury: I- That's- CRICKET DOESN'T HAVE CHEERLEADERS!!

Gigi, pouting with her index fingers pressed together, rocking her hips: -But I wanted to cheer for YOU Mr. Akon!

Akon, freezing like a deer in front of an oncoming 18-wheeler: -! Akon, turning ever-so-slightly-pinkish about the ears: ...I'll think about it.

Gigi, grabbing onto Akon's arm: Yay! Gigi, hanging off Akon and babbling: What are the team colors? Do you think like Majorette uniforms are cuter or something more like a miniskirt and halter-top?

Tama, letting them get a bit ahead of her as she dials the main camp: Anyone on the horn? It's Nikuya.

Nanao, on the other end of the communicator: Status report?

Tama: Good news! I've eliminated an enemy, found us an ally AND a new batter for the team if we all live to see spring training.

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #giselle gewelle #Tama Nikuya #Bleach Akon #Help I ship Gigi and Akon now #mind the warnings #long post under the cut

[candeathbereal]

Just a small roast of some placements

If a person has Leo and Aries placements then that Virgo Venus means meh imo. Idk I’ve met so many with that and they don’t act like people with Virgo Venus that I’m used to. The impulsive and dumb manner of us fire signs are a moment. I can roast these motherfuckers cause I got all three fire signs in my chart. Quite literally a fire dominant with a Virgo moon. That Virgo moon is fucked but she is trying her hardest. I think if I didn’t have my Saturn in my tenth house I probably would have a shitter work ethic than I do now. I have no proof but ehh fuck it.

Also cancer placements don’t pack the punch I thought they would have. Scorpios aren’t mysterious they are just dumbasses who know how to keep their mouth shut. Yeah I said it! Plus Pisces I got nothing for you sorry. I got Pisces in my eighth house so you guys are confusing to me. I can’t roast without proper interaction. Like you guys are delusional but so are us Neptune dominants.

All the fixed signs have an odd stubbornness which is to be expected from them. And yet it surprises me how much it’s there. Mutable signs have the fun parts of going with the flow and all the lovely vibes of not properly dealing with their emotions especially mutable moons. I don’t blame us for wanting to try new shit but dealing with our emotions in a “healthy” manner is not one of the ways I’m going to be trying. I have to deal with my trauma first before I even try to grasp the idea of crying in front of people unless I intensely trust them. Don’t even get me started on the idea of comfort while going through a mental breakdown. I try to take care of my shit before I get to that point because it’s either that or having a mental break and being extremely exhausted but still having shit to do. Like bruh how can I get better if I have to depend on others emotionally? The Virgo moon is busting out of me rn. Like I know it sounds dumb asf but I feel like ranting and roasting at the same time. This is how dumb we sound but it’s just the brain functioning like it has to.

To sum it all up emotionally we can deal with it later cause other people need a good/easy time. Sag moons do it by staying positive and fun and I love them for it. They just gotta learn that crying your eyes out can be fun. Just make it a game you fools! Geminis have a similar vibe but idk how to describe them. I think they are more likely to have a decent upbringing compared to sag moons. Idk most sag moons I’ve met have some of the worst upbringings oddly similar to cap moons. The key difference is how they cope with those emotions. Cap moons can be workaholics whereas sag moons probably can but not really ya know?

-I am wondering how people can say moon square moon in synastry shows short term. I can grasp it to a certain degree but general this aspect can stay together. It just seems that the common theme is that they have something shared like a child or a pet. Maybe even a business but ehh. For instance my own parents have squared moons and stayed together for years before their divorce. They argued a lot sure but in the end, shit moved on. Traumatizing a little bit but overall could have been worse for sure imo. Oh and they were together for 20ish years but married for 18 of them I think.

That’s it for now

#astrology #astrology observations #astro #astro observations #astro posts #astrology synastry #moon square moon #moon square moon synastry #fixed signs #leo #virgo #scorpio #aquarius #taurus #aries #virgo venus

[anime-kia]

Insecure (Plus-Sized)

A big thank you to everyone who submitted their insecurities on my last authors note, I appreciate it so much! For these two stories, I won't be adding smut, just some fluff I guess and Erik is gonna be a softie again, sort of. Enjoy!

No warnings.

Relationship: Erik x Plus-Sized Reader

"Either the weight gotta go or I go." Your boyfriend, Simon, bluntly demanded you. He was always the one to bring your weight into an argument. It wasn't like he had a six pack and a chiseled body, but he was normal, so to speak. 

Simon wasn't the only one who would lecture you based on your size. There were your friends and family members reminding you to eat healthier at every event or family function. It wasn't like you were unhealthy, your genetics played a huge role in this. Not to mention your office job didn't require you to move around a lot.

"I'm working on it, I swear." You pouted, bitting into a loaded hamburger. It was cheat day, you had every right to treat yourself once every two weeks after a long week of work. 

"Seriously? You're eating a greasy ass burger right now and you 'working on it'? Look at your stomach girl, one of my homeboys asked me if you was pregnant."

You set the burger down and stared at your belly that was covered in an oversized shirt. Not even two bites in and you suddenly felt full...

"Eat a salad, go to the gym or something. Shit." He huffed, walking into the other room. 

That night you stared at yourself in the mirror before getting into the shower. You stared at every roll, every stretch mark, every flab and every curve. You pulled and poked at the skin, watching it shake in response. 

In high school you were made fun of, especially in gym glass. Sure you weren't the only one who had a little more meat on your bones, but for whatever reason you stood out. Years of torment put you in a dark space where you believed that you looked disgusting. Throughout college, body shapers and girdles were the go to, they gave your body a more curvy look. 

The many compliments from men gave you back the confidence that was destroyed. You continued to wear the shapers, deceiving anyone glancing at your figure. Sure you built up false confidence and sure your rib cage and lungs felt bruised when you removed the garments in the night, but at least it scored you a handsome boyfriend.

The praises in the beginning were nice, and you felt so comfortable around him. Comfortable enough to invite him over while you wore just a tank top, and shorts to hangout. It wasn't obvious in the beginning, but Simon didn't like surprises, all he could think about was how well you hid your excess fat. But, he liked your personality, so he stayed. 

He hadn't said anything about your weight, nothing that you caught onto anyway, until this day. You sighed and decided that it was time to make a change.

"If you're interested, we do have personal trainers as well, but that's all up to you." The receptionist slid you your new membership card. "We're excited to have you as a member." 

"Thank you." You placed the card into your wallet and grabbed a brochure just to see what else this gym offered. A personal trainer, huh?

The last time you went to the gym was back in college where you'd have enough time to workout, memberships were included in the tuition.  

You walked through the halls, heading towards the locker room. Surprisingly, for a gym it didn't smell as sweaty and gross as you originally imaged. Rather, it had a metallic and rubbery scent because of the new equipment. 

You placed your gym bag onto the bench and opened it up, taking out your water bottle, and headphones. You began undressing out of your jacket and jeans, wearing a sports bra and the matching leggings. A few women walked into the change room and you immediately felt like covering up. They were all so well shaped: toned arms, flat stomachs and trim legs. One of them glanced your way and quickly turned back once she noticed you were looking and you did the same. 

You sighed and put your bag into a locker, grabbing a loosely fitted t-shirt before closing it. There's no time for moping. And with that, you went into the gym, ready to get a good workout. You didn't exactly have a regimen, but you knew the treadmill would be the best place to start.

Forty-five minutes had gone by a lot faster than you were expecting. You stepped off of the treadmill and looked around the room for another machine you could possibly test out, but that would have to be for your next visit. You wanted to come fully prepared next time.

You set your gym bag on the floor, "Simon, I'm home."

He appeared out of your shared bedroom in a fancy outfit, "Wassup?" 

"I just got back from the gym... Where are you going?"

"It's Von's birthday, we going to the club." He adjusted his sleeve.

"Am I not going?" You frowned.

"Nah, it's his bros only."

Something seemed off about this because Von was really cool with you, he always invited you so what was different?

"...Alright, have fun." You kissed his cheek. 

"Thanks, and I made dinner. Check the fridge." He shuffled passed you, and exited the apartment. 

You took a shower, and got dressed into your pyjamas. You went to the fridge and pulled out a lidded container. When you opened it, you were expecting a proper full course dinner, but that man really had the nerve to leave you a plain salad. The thought was nice, but once again, you're not unhealthy just chubby.

Either way, you still ate the salad while watching reruns of the Halloween series. The salad was decent, but not filling at all, you were still hungry, but you didn't eat anything else for the rest of the night. 

By time 2 o'clock rolled around, you were nodding off. Simon should've been back by now, he had work in the afternoon. You checked his social media, but he hadn't posted anything on there yet. So you went to his other friends Instagrams and Snapchats, but also, nothing.

Maybe he'll be here by three...

You tried your best to stay awake, but you passed out as soon as three o'clock hit. Simon arrived home at seven in the morning. You slept in on Sundays so he wasn't worried. He found you asleep on the couch with your phone resting on your cheek. He took it off, placing it on the table and shook his head in pity. 

You figured out the perfect workout regimen the following week and you fixed a schedule where you would go to the gym three days out of the seven: Mondays and Thursdays after work and Saturday in the afternoon. Sometimes you would take an extra class, whether it be Zumba or a fitness class.

You became a frequent at the gym and you definitely didn't go unnoticed by a tall, burly looking male with dreads. He loved to watch you workout. He enjoyed looking at how your eyes were always filled with determination and passion. He enjoyed your transition from being sloppy to knowing exactly what to do and perfectly. He loved the evolution of your regimen, from the treadmill to the dumbbells. Your body was a bonus; every roll, every stretch mark, every flab and every curve. 

He made sure to be doing some kind of exercise that faced you when you were doing squats, planks, sit ups or push ups. He could really admire your body that way. Some would call it creepy, but he didn't give a single shit. 

His favourite thing was to see you smile and discretely applaud yourself after you completed a workout. Though he knew you'd return as you usually did, he hated to see you leave, but loved to watch you go. 

Simon was going out a lot more and not bringing you. Especially to places that allowed you to be more expressive.

For example, his cousin was throwing a pool party and you recently bought the cutest yellow bikini. You were more than excited to wear it because the gym had given you more confidence in your shape, but Simon said it was a 'family-only event' so you stayed home and let him go alone.

Then there was another time when you were invited to a club and you picked out a dress that had a cut out in the stomach area. Before you could even zip up the dress, Simon demanded you wear something less revealing because "Nobody needs to see all of that."

He was really a damper in your self-esteem and you started to question him, "Are you embarrassed because of me?"

"No not because of you."

"Then what is it?"

"It's that fat, girl. You been going to the gym for how long, but you still got too much weight."

You stared at him with a glare, "I'm healthy though and I dropped a few pounds."

A hand ran over his face, "It don't look like it." He bit back.

You went silent and decided to not continue to argue. 

He was embarrassed... Anyone could see that.

A few days had passed since the argument, it was all you could think of at work. It bothered you so much that during your lunch break, you googled different doctors that could do liposuction near you. Your boss had noticed your lack of progression and positivity, which was unusual and he gave you the option to go home early and rest up. 

When you got into your apartment, a few things were off. On the ground, there were a pair of black stilettos that didn't belong to you and a red trench coat resting on your coat rack that also didn't belong to you. 

You balled your fists, nails digging into your palms as you walked towards the bedroom as silent as you could. As you got closer you could hear moaning and grunting, and it didn't sound like it was a film. To add to everything, the familiar squeaking of your bed made it all the more real. 

You pushed open the door and behold, the expected. Simon pleasuring another female in your bed, upon your covers that you worked hard for and paid for by yourself. 

"So this is why you been out late, huh?" Your voice startled them both and they scrambled away from each other. 

"Baby th-"

"Shut the fuck up! If you say that cliche line, I will cut your dick off right here right now!" You yelled, pointing at him. "I wish I could say I'm surprised, but I'm not. You're a judgmental prick, and a fucking hypocrite." As you got closer, you jabbed your acrylic nail into his chest making sure it left a mark. "Get the fuck out of my house. GET OUT!" 

The mystery girl had already taken her leave, you didn't see when.

"Let's talking about this, please." He begged.

"There's nothing to talk about Simon, either you get out of my home or I'm calling the police." 

"Come on, girl."

"Get the fuck out!" 

"I was all you got, nobody gone love your fat ass anyway."

That set you off. You slammed your fist into his cheek. At first you were surprised how strong that hit was, but you could thank the gym later. 

"Fuck you, I was doing great before you came in and made me feel like something was wrong with me. Maybe you're the problem. You probably picking fun at me because you dealing with your own insecurities. Little dick having ass bitch, get the fuck out!"

He held his cheek and stumbled out the apartment. 

You threw all of his stuff out and changed your lock. If he came back in time, he would be lucky enough to gather some of his belongings, if they weren't stolen already by anyone passing by. That Rolex was worth a lot, it would be a shame if someone got to it first.

This all happened on Monday. You decided not to go back to the gym, if you did, it felt like you gave Simon some kind of victory seeing as he was the one to recommend it in the first place. But after two weeks of being stubborn you finally got back into the groove of things. Sure you were crying or eating whatever the hell you wanted to every night, but the gym allowed you to blow off steam. 

The male who was watching you the past few weeks had asked about you while you were away, worried that you might've cancelled your membership or maybe moved away. But when he saw you walk in wearing your sports bra and a pair of shorts, he felt relieved and had to talk to you this time. 

You usually had a happy kind of determination on your face as you worked out, but this look was filled with anger and rage. You even tried the punching bags, giving them solid hits. The male was surprised, impressed even. 

You radiated, not-giving-a-single-fuck and he enjoyed that. He could fully appreciate that your outfit gave him a better view of what you've been covering up. Your body was like a work of art to him and he wanted to be the one to claim this masterpiece. 

You stayed at the gym a lot later, waiting for the evening crowd to clear out and eventually they did, so all that remained was you, him and two other people who were really focused on their workouts. 

You were running on the treadmill again, with fifteen minutes to go and he was on the pec deck staring at your bum.

You could feel it, it was quite obvious being that you two were the only ones occupying this side of the gym, and it was more obvious without your headphones.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer." You rolled your eyes, still not facing him.

"That's a great idea." And seconds after his husky voice responded, you heard a snap.

You paused the machine wide eyed, I know he did not... You got off and looked at him, the left side of his mouth tugged upward in a suggestive smirk.

"Delete it." You command.

"You told me to take a picture though."

You sighed irritably. "Look, I'm not in the mood right now." 

"I'm only playing." He showed you his camera roll and no picture of your bum was there. Rather he had a collection of photos that showed off his body, African artwork and some videos that might've had to do with a party. 

You begin to walk away but he stopped you. "What?" You asked sharply.

"Damn girl, I just wanted to say what's up."

"The sky. Goodbye."

"Whoa chill, shorty. You mad and shit."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not interested."

He cackled, "I wasn't asking, dang. But anyway, you good?"

"Yeah I'm 'good'." You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Well usually when you come in here, you look happy. And I didn't see you the past week, so I thought something was up." 

"Are you stalking me?"

"Nah, I just notice beautiful things."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, "Wh-what?" 

He gave you another smirk, "I'm Erik by the way." 

"And I'm still not interested." You began walking away.

"Not even in a personal trainer?" But that stopped you. "I could give you a few pointers or whatever, I'm not certified, but I got the technique. It's some things you can work on."

"What things?" 

"I saw you at the punching bag tryna blow off steam, but you was doing it all wrong. Your knuckles hurt don't they?"

How did he know? You thought it was suppose to hurt, just like any workout you get into for the first time.

"I can help you out, no bullshit. I won't try anything." He stood up from the machine and you could admire his towering form. His was muscular and thick, it made you feel inclined to trust that he knew what he was doing. After a minute of thinking you gave in a gave him your number. 

He walked you to your car as it was late at night and anything could happen to you. 

"So I'll call you tonight?" He flirted and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. 

He opened the door for you. "Very funny. But I'll see you on Saturday." You got in and buckled up as he locked the door. 

"Bet." He smiled as you drove off and went to his own car.

It didn't take long for Erik and you to become close. You became the power-couple at the gym. He had a way with words and he made you happy. Of course there were arguments, and you had mentally prepared for him insulting your figure, but it never came.

Erik would always question why you ate salads instead of a proper meal and you said it was to lose weight. He scoffed at that. On your cheat days, he joined you. For a man who has such a nice physique, he ate like a horse. None of that healthy shit either. He ate loaded hamburgers, pizza with extra toppings, oily chips, and a bunch of other junky unhealthy foods. He actually encouraged you to eat whatever you wanted to, in moderation of course. 

You did cook normal meals too because obviously too much junk would clog your arteries, killing one of you eventually, but it was nice to have someone who didn't care about what you ate occasionally.

"Should I wear the green dress or the purple one?" You asked Erik, who was lying in bed on his phone. 

He looked up at the two dresses in your hands, "Neither."

"What you mean neither?" 

"I don't like them." His attention went back to his phone.

You rolled your eyes, "Why not?"

He got out of the bed and pulled you to the bathroom making you face the mirror. "Give me one." He held his palm out and you placed the green dress in his hand. "Look." He held the dress against your body, "You look like a damn kid in this one." 

It was true, it reminded you of your eighth grade graduation dress. Unflattering would be the best way you would describe it, there was nothing special about it.

"Gimmie the other one." He repeated his actions. "The only good thing about this one is the v-neck thing you got going on."

Simple and boring. It was a straight cut dress, with a pinch of scandal as it allowed a peak of cleavage to show. 

"So then what am I suppose to wear?"

"That two piece you got hidden in your closet."

You stared at him as if he were crazy, "Absolutely not."

"I ain't never seen you wear it, show me something new, baby girl." He planted a kiss on your neck.

You remember picking it up at the mall. Gorgeous and sexy, an outfit that screams confidence. The bottom was a long black slim flitting skirt and the top was a cheetah print cropped spaghetti strap. You were more than excited to show off your new outfit to Simon, but when he said it wasn't made for you, you decided to hide it in your closet and never wear it again. So how the hell did Erik find it?

"You do not want to see me in that."

"Yes I do." His hands snaked around you, pulling you close.

"No you don't, my belly is gonna be all out."

"So what?"

"So... People won't like it."

He broke into a laughter, "W-wait a minute, wait a minute. You give a shit what people think?" He continued to laugh which made you frown.

You attempted to push him away, but he held you tighter. 

After his fit of laughter he asked, "Oh shit, you serious?" And you simply nodded.

"Look at me, all these rolls, fat and stretch marks. Who wants to see all that?" 

"Me, baby. I want it all." He slid his warm hands under your shirt and rested them against your stomach. 

"Boy, stop lying."

"Who said I'm lying?" 

"Everyone I've known has always judged me. Always saying I'm too big or I need to workout and I need to eat healthier... I tried to ignore what they had to say, but if I'm constantly reminded of what I look like, of course I'm gonna feel some type of way."

He stared at you through the mirror as you vented to him.

"My ex... He was the worst. Always demanding me to lose some weight. He even made me chose between him or my weight. I really thought he cared about me, but he used me for sex. That asshole didn't even go out with me in public." 

"Damn..."

"I know. He even said sex was no fun with me, he said my big ass was too heavy to carry."

You watched a signature smirk grow on Erik's face again, "Really?"

"Ye- Erik! What are you doing!?" You were easily lifted off of the ground into Erik's arms. You can't recall the last time someone had lifted you and Erik did it with such ease. 

"He was just a weak ass bitch." 

"Put me down!" You begged.

"Aight." His gold canines shined at you. 

Your back hit the bed gently and Erik climbed over top of you. 

"What the hell?" You asked him. 

"So, we ain't never had sex cuz you afraid I was gonna judge you?" He stared intensely into your eyes, causing you to look away. "Girl, I don't care what you look like. Only bitches worry about that shit."

You didn't know what to say, you were surprised actually. 

He planted a kiss against your stomach then trailed up to your neck, whispering into your ear, "I'm tryna make you thicker." His lips met yours in a passionate kiss.

To say your first time with Erik was amazing would be an understatement, he could really do some things that Simon couldn't. 

Erik loved you for you and not for your body. Thanks to him, no one could tell you anything because you knew that you were beautiful no matter your shape or size. 

I hope you guys enjoyed! 

But I'm just say something real quick: I've been noticing a trend in the Killmonger x Reader stories. Majority of them say plus-sized reader in the insert (and I'm not bothered by that or anything) but when you get to reading the story, there are no inserts about the reader's shape. Maybe the very end might say, "Erik kissed your thick thighs." But that's about it. What's the point of adding that if you're not going to mention it any other time??? The purpose of putting that description is so the reader knows what the story will be about... There are a lot of other things I notice too, but it's none of my business ☕️ I don't like to spill tea if it's unnecessary. 

I try to avoid adding the readers size or what not, but if I do make a mention to it, I usually say it from Erik's POV. For example, Erik is a big guy. So you would be smaller than him no doubt, unless you are similar in size to him. But generally speaking, he would be bigger. So if I say "your small hand" that's how Erik would see it. Get what I mean?

Anyways, thanks for reading! 

(Start/Finish: October 19, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

[vaguely-yandere]

chamiiiiiiiiiii!!! :(((( ily ily ty for not being annoyed at my frequent and long asks <33 its so nice having someone to talk to about these things!! anyways...

you got me thinking about sensitive darling all over again!! (what else is new sunny! get ur mind out of the gutter smh smh)

imagine surprising them from behind... wrapping your arms teasingly around their waist and leaning your head on their shoulder! blowing hot air on their ear... peppering little kisses on their cheek.... one hand sneakily makes its way down to their pants... poor thing cant help but grind against you! your scent is overriding their senses and clouding their mind! they're starting to sweat (oh no, do you notice? they hope not....) and pant and they let out a surprised squeak when your hand makes contact with their super sensitive spots!! cumming prematurely is so cute... you barely did anything to them!! you insist they ride out their orgasm on your hand....grind on it!!

they're sobbing at this point but do what you say anyways <333 they're out of their mind with pleasure, what a cutie.... <333 make sure to whisper lots of reassurance and praise into their ear!! they've plunged themselves into a subspace in record time, all they can think about in the little dreamland of theirs is you, you, YOU!! touch their chest too... kiss the shell of their ears... overwhelm them...

make them submit completely to you...<3

(jk! sensitive yan cant even get w in 2 feet of you without breaking >:( we gotta work on their exposure therapy some more smh smh. until then, this stays a daydream for them! too bad! hehe <3)

-sunny <3

poor sensitive yan!!! just this daydream would get them through so many exposure therapy sessions and overstim sessions

i think their new 'therapy' tactic would be a form of exposure but they realized a while ago they couldnt stop themselves from cumming when they even get too close to you (for a while, just your scent could get them off, poor thing :() so they decided to just work on not getting overstimulated easily! theyd buy a bunch of pedilayte, gatorade and water bottles and spend hours in their room, touching themselves and making themselves cum over and over and over again, until they give themselves carpal tunnel and when theyre recovering from that (whats the point of their hands if they cant please you with them?!)they discover other ways of pleasuring themselves. sex toys, sex machines, theyve already sold most of their possessions to fuel their obsession with you (good quality cameras are so expensive!! lucky theres yandere reselling shops!) so theyve got cash to spare! they get everything. they wanted to try chastity stuff but decided to keep that one unused until you're there to see their desperation for you. they vaguely entertained the idea for when theyre stalking you or planning on getting close but the idea of doing that without anyone else knowing just turned them off. besides, itd ruin all their overstim progress so far!

they end up developing some strong muscles from riding toys, fucking into them, from clenching their muscles so hard from cumming over and over. they like the toys that wiggle the most, the ones that vibrate are too much right now and the ones that dont have any motors just dont do anything wont they lose all function. the ones that dont move however are good on making sure they have enough stamina to please you before completely passing out from pleasure and the ones that vibrate are good for more intense sessions.

its so much fun imagining them slumped on the side of their bed, drooling on their sheets and barely able to keep themselves up as a toy slowly moves in and out of the, the motor quietly whirring, barely audible over their tired moans and panting and the squelching noises from lube/cum.

and them shakily trying to ride a dildo??? ADORABLE!! hands braced in front of them, thighs practically vibrating from the strain, them desperately trying to keep going and stay coherent enough to keep engaging their muscles. dont worry, they wont overwork themselves too hard! but it is funny imagining them slumping forward, groaning and getting drool + cum all over their floor. and just imagine their squeal when they manage to lift themselves off their toy!!! so cute!!

and you know they had to buy a gag almost immediately after their first time using anything that vibrates, having one of the most intense orgasms of their life when the toy finally turns on, back arching off their bed, kinda like a demon lol

and imagining them desperately grinding into a toy, trying their hardest to fuck it like it was you, whining and whimpering the entire time. at first they were just so embarrassed, what would you even say if you caught them like this? but as they get more into it and their muscles are aching and they can barely keep their eyes open, theyre just barely pressing their hips into the toy, until eventually falling asleep/passing out and waking up with the embarrassing fantasy of falling asleep inside of you.

if they have afab anatomy, they manage to last a lot longer than a amab yandere but then they discover they can have a toy for themselves while using a strap (they feel a bit silly for not realizing that sooner and also for fucking a toy into a toy) and they end up the exact same as the amab yandere, a complete puddle.

and if they continue their overstim sessions after getting with you? so cute!! imagine walking in on them in any of these scenarios and lovingly taking care of them, rehydrating them, cleaning them up all while teasing them (but flattered they thought of this) and them waking up, barely coherent and reaching for you, making grabby hands and smiling.

"did... did i do good...?" they'll slur, leaning on you

"you did perfect, love."

#sunny darling #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #asks #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere smut

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Hello, I read and love your Chained Series but only now noticed the Major Character Death tag on the second one, since I moved from part 1 to part 2 without checking the tags/summary. I normally really really really do not touch Major Character Death, it just... well it just makes me really sad in a way i don't enjoy, to keep it brief, even when it's plot or story wise fulfilling a purpose.

This is in no way me asking you not to do it, it's your story, and that's how it should be!

But I was hoping if you'd be willing to give me some information around the MCD, who for example (or if this'll straight up be a bad ending overall), so I can emotionally brace myself because I really don't want to stop reading the fic, because it's really good, but going further into it blind feels daunting, in a way. I will of course not relay anything regarding the fic to others, that you might tell me (since idk how familiar you are with tumblr: there is a way to respond to asks privately in the ask-post settings, if you prefer).

If you're not happy doing this I completely understand, it's your story, but i figured it's worth asking.

I hope you have a nice day, and that the writing will be easy 👌

I would be quite happy to explain what I've got planed with that! I deliberately read spoilers for similar reasons all the time; I totally understand wanting to be forewarned and forearmed. Also I'm just happy to ramble about my fic lol :3 If ya gotta drop it, no worries, glad you enjoyed the first sections and I don't mind anyone takin care of themselves

You're probably not the only one who'd want to know so I'll just put all the spoilers in a read more:

First of all, I don't consider this to be a particularly dark story (though granted I don't consider Death Note to be a particularly dark story so uh your mileage may vary) nor do I see it ending in tragedy.

The planned deaths:

The Joker - So, he's not really a main character in this fic, in fact, he might not even get speaking lines, I'm unsure right now, but he's major in the comics so I'm counting it. It's not going to happen for a VERY long time but it is so pivotal to the functioning of a main emotional plotline that I don't know how I'd write around changing my mind about this one.

Captain Boomerang - Like the Joker, I'm not really even sure he'll get speaking lines, but he's important enough to Tim's other canon stories he makes the cut. Unlike the Joker, I don't actually know if he's going to die yet! At the end of Red Robin Tim tries to kill him but fails. I don't know if my older Tim will do it, but I am certain he'll go at least halfway through a second similar plan. Much will hinge on what I read of his interactions with Huntress.

Other assorted villains, such as Darkseid and the Batman Who Laughs - This will depend a lot on, again, my reading of how Tim interacts with the kind of violence Huntress brings to the table. It also depends a lot on how a few in-fic decisions shake out. Tim has to make the decision as to whether or not they kill more people than just the ones on his small list from the first fic and I've got a more solid idea for if he does than if he doesn't.

Roy Harper (and a few other Heroes) - He's not gonna stay dead though, none of them are. So, due to hesitance and fear of fucking shit up Jason and Tim aren't going to make some key decisions in time to prevent the whole "Heroes in Crisis" plotline from happening. Once they learn of this they are immediately going to start doing mad science to figure out how to resurrect people safely. And, of course, they have the power to time travel.

Jason Todd... Kinda. - An increasingly large and loud elephant in the room is gonna be the fact that Jason doesn't have to have died. Ever. In any timeline.

Tim could save him.

But of course that would mean rewriting the Jason he knows out of existence. There really isn't a clear cut moral equivalent to doing this? But I feel emotionally it would count as this/our Jason dying.

On the other hand if Tim refuses, he is deeply morally responsible for Jason's actual already happened death... but will have saved our Jason's existence.

Tim's decision of whether or not to save Jason's child self is THE emotional climax of the story. One of the main purposes of Chapter 12 was foreshadowing how each character will react to this very situation.

I can't put another read more, so if knowing the two options is good enough for you turn back now! And if you wanna know what Tim's decision is (I sure would!) scroll passed the two big pictures!

Tim refuses to save Jason's childhood self. He loves this Jason too much to emotionally withstand losing him. I have had this story beat and the resulting fallout planned for absolute ages and I'm 100% certain on this one. Frankly, timeline erasing the Jason we know and love would make ME cry too much to keep writing it lmao, so this one I can guarantee.

#chained fanfic #chained: to wield the blade we have forged #jaytim #damian's tomfoolery #...I should probably put in my bio somewhere that my name is Damian #would make that tag make more sense lol #anyways hope this helps :3

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

thoughts on 4WS? everybody and their mom knows the prelude,but would you be interested in talking about some of the other interesting vehicles with stuff like this?

or maybe other methods of decreasing turn radius?

I love the “everybody and their mom knows the Prelude”. Truly the embodiment of the silicate chemistry XKCD.

But sure! I can’t really say much about 4WS beyond “It’s when the rear tires steer opposite to the fronts to decrease turn radius at low speeds or when they steer with the fronts to increase stability at high speeds, and it really helps make cars be and feel more agile, which is why you see it on the new Range Rover and why you will probably see it in many other cars now that they are all ballooning out of proportion. Cool! Don’t park too close to curbs tho or your rear end will kick out into them and curb your wheels”, so let’s move on to… less orthodox ways to decrease turn radius.

You’d included a GIF of the Rivian “tank turn” which they were going to include in their models only to then not, but I took the liberty to place it next to a GIF of the BYD YangWang U8 showing it off at the latest and incredibly exciting Japan Mobility Salon [for some reason this post is stuck on the old editor so pretend that link is blue] to offer suitable accompaniement

(start at 1:36 if it doesn’t do so automatically)

Hope this will do in lieu of commentary because all I could offer is a demonstration of how many times I can type “what the fuck” in a row. Oh and if that wasn’t enough they also showed one do this.

I am genuinely pretty sure I came up with such a wheel design and then thought “no, this is stupid and absurd, forget I thought that” and then BYD was like “lol, lmao, rotfl even”.

But if you have wheels that don’t make you fear a robot uprising and surfaces that grip too hard to permit that Tchaikovskian bullshit, what are you to do?

Well, turn radius is a function of steering angle and wheelbase, so you can just alter those! Now, one would think the distance between the centers of your wheels would be pretty tough to alter, and indeed, it is. Well, it is pretty tough to alter without getting a wall involved and giving you more problems than you solved, if you know what I’m saying. Let alone to alter it reversibly. But some have done it! Enter Rinspeed, Swiss Porsche tuner turned concept car maker whose staying afloat I genuinely cannot explain, and more specifically its early-00s concept the Presto, a concept car that, once you realize you cannot for the life of you find four people willing to get near that horrendous front let alone in the thing, has the ability to cut your losses and accordionize itself.

“Yahchoo!”

Nice, Ron. And sure, the windshield is borderline nominal, the doors were sacrificed to the gimmick altar so one assumes you must get in Hazzard-style without even having a roof to paint something racist on, and it’s probably illegal in many fun new ways, but at least it’s gotta be a TON of fun.

You know what I suddenly feel like we should move on to something else. How about this thing?

“The Mk1 Golf?” Almost - as seen by the five bolt wheels, different bumpers and barely visible side vents, while this was an ordinary Mk1 Golf, Italo-Swiss tuning house Sbarro took care of that problem by shoving a Porsche 3.3L behind the front seats (what is this, Renault? [again, please record yourself saying “that link is blue” and play that recording back repeatedly over a spinning spiral GIF]). But the thing is, Franco Sbarro saw the whole ordeal and thought “Ah, but the engine that we put right in front of a the trunk lid is going to need accessing at some point. I must think of the most rational way to accomplish that”, and then made the car fucking open in two. What is it with Switzerland and cars doing this shit.

So yeah. If you were willing to spend an absolute fortune to make your Volkswagen Golf a positive deathtrap, you could, through an incredible and unimaginably dodgy feat of engineering, shorten your wheelbase by a measure I measured at comfortably under two inches. Now, I cannot think that makes much difference in turning radius, but hey, I’ve seen masculinities built and shattered over less.

Fortunately, the wheelbase is just one of the determining factors of turning radius, and the other, steering angle, is a pretty popular thing to increase through aftermarket components because it’s very important in drifting: as explained in this brilliant-as-always article from Speedhunters, since drifting consists of holding your car at a big angle relative to where you’re going, if you want to maintain that big angle you kind of need the front wheels to be able to be at a big angle relative to where the car is pointing.

Unfortunately, your steering wheel doesn’t stop turning just because it feels you got to turn it long enough already - it stops because the wheels are about to hit something. So in serious drift cars the front wheels have to be pushed outwards to keep them from encounter car as they turn. But of course, there is an alternative to pushing the wheels out - pushing the wheel wells in! That, in fact, is the technique employed by the personal driftcar of world champion Piotr Więcek...

....no, not the 800hp S15, I said the one he drives for fun.

Perfection. Indeed, since the last generation Twingo shares its platform with the Smart Forfour which itself shares bits and bobs with the historically rear-engined Smart Fortwo, the engine is in the rear, meaning the front wheels have nothing in between to stop them from turning outrageously wide, making its turning circle great for city driving, city parking, and apparently tandem drifting with an 800hp S15.

But I cannot talk about ways to facilitate street parking without talking about the first thing I ever received by email, in January 2011, or more than twelve years ago (yeah I know, sorry): a video of this car.

Apparently, it was an idea that had existed since the 50s, too!

I find this to be a really clever idea - you already need to bring the spare tire around anyway, and you already have a shaft spinning in that direction because that’s what connects the engine to the differential! Unfortunately though, nowadays most cars -especially the space-conscious ones- are front wheel drive, which would make implementing what already was a packaging nightmare to begin with take up even more space, probably to the point of being counterproductive. Unless perhaps you put the spare in front of the engine and redesigned the differential to *spends the next six months thinking about this*

#submission #turning radius #rinspeed presto #sbarro vw golf mk1 #drifting #renault twingo mk3

[ariadnelives]

Chapter 16 - Scare Tactics

Missed a chapter? Catch up here!!

The communicator narrowly missed Nicks' head.

“YOU TOLD ME SHE WAS DEAD!” The Nameless shrieked.

“I told you she might still be alive, and you believed it too,” Nicks replied as flatly as possible, trying not to betray any emotion, “you said you were sure she was dead, once you were unable to track her down.”

In the months since their partnership had begun, Nicks had grown increasingly wary of her partner's mental probing. She'd paid a black market engineer handsomely to modify her golden snake mask to emit a low-level psychic signal to mask her deeper thoughts. Surface thoughts were still easily readable, but any attempt to dig deeper would find only static.

This served two functions: The first was allowing her to relax her mental discipline occasionally, without fear that her thoughts would slip through. The second was to make the Nameless believe Nicks was unprotected without the helmet, and sell the illusion that she really was as shallow as her surface thoughts appeared.

The Nameless was absolutely furious when she found out about this, but Nicks cleverly framed it as a preventative measure in case their enemies managed to figure out her secret and gain powers of her own, and while the Nameless knew this was a line of bullshit, she also knew questioning it would make her appear weak, and she decided, as she often did, to silently resent her partner for enforcing a boundary.

“Who cares who said she was dead?!” The Nameless said. “Can-Do just messaged me. She's been alive and in hiding for months.”

“Your mole is texting you again?” Nicks asked. “I thought she was supposed to be dead too.”

“Ariadne's kept them in some sort of comms barricade,” the Nameless said. “Looks like she's found a way through it. She's risking everything to contact us. That's what real loyalty looks like.”

“Has she given you any useful information?” Nicks asked.

“Ariadne's working on something big, but she won't tell anybody what it is. Whatever it is, it's nowhere near done,” she said. “We gotta do something quick if we're gonna stay ahead of her.”

“You may recall that I've been saying we should do something to draw her out ever since you 'killed' her in the assault on the base,” Nicks said, pushing aside the workbook she'd been writing in. Despite having entered this partnership for an alternative to running a crime family, somehow she'd ended up simply running a crime family, and she hated every moment of it. “Luckily, that means I'm prepared. If you want to draw her out, I have a plan that'll do just that.”

The Nameless smiled– always an unsettling sight– and said, “That's what I like to hear.”

“I've already set it in motion. If all goes to plan, we'll be able to meet with the necessary parties within the hour,” Nicks said.

The Nameless' smile dropped away. “I only told you Ariadne was alive a few minutes ago.”

“This is why you keep me onboard,” Nicks said, “I keep all our bases covered. If Ariadne's dead, no harm is done. If she's alive, we're prepared, and she can't take us by surprise.”

“Smart,” the Nameless said, “good looking out. You never know what sort of lows someone like that will stoop to.”

“But, let me do the talking,” Nicks told her. “I don't mean to offend, but, I don't want to scare them off.”

Nicks had a point. There had been a marked change in the Nameless' appearance ever since she'd taken Father Y's pill. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and their muted gray color had shifted into a dull orange. Her skin had never had much color to it, but was now downright ashen. Her hair had grown greasy and tangled. Her overall demeanor was now twitchy and erratic, and she was quicker to lash out, but when she wasn't moving, she looked for all the world like a corpse.

“I'll need you in the wings,” Nicks said, “these people are a powder keg of hate and anger. All you need to do is light it, and we can start unmaking everything Ariadne worked for. If she doesn't show up after this, I don't know what will get her.”

An hour later, Nicks found herself standing before a packed auditorium. The Rizzo Army had put out the call, and by god, dozens of people had responded.

“Welcome, concerned parents of our solar system,” Nicks said. “If you're here, that means you too have lost someone to the scourge that is Ariadne's Angels.”

She heard many mutters of assent from the audience.

“She's decided you're unfit to parent your children,” Nicks read from her card, “because she disagrees with your family values. She doesn't think you should have the right to decide how to discipline your own flesh and blood! She attacks those blessed with prosperity and corrupts your children into her deviant lifestyle!”

The crowd was now cheering.

“And she has the gall to call you abusive!” Nicks announced. “I understand we have the former board of directors of the Buchanan Corporation in the house tonight! She stole trillions of your hard-earned dollars! Think of the jobs she destroyed for her greed! And you're not the only ones! Everyone in this auditorium has lost their children, or their livelihood, or their business to this pirate's crimes! But now I'm here to give you the chance to get it all back!”

Nicks knew full-well that the audience was full of some of the foulest people who'd ever lived. Ariadne had a moral code. The parents who'd lost children to Ariadne had, almost unilaterally, lost them because they beat their children, or worse. The people who'd lost money to her had been plutocrats whose fortunes were built on exploitation, and their money was being put to much better use now.

But that didn't matter to Nicks' plan. All that mattered was the spin, and that it outraged all the right people. They already had an army, but this rhetoric would embolden every reactionary in the system. The remaining plutocrats would become more brazenly corrupt. The parents who continued to rule their children's lives with an iron fist would crack down even harder. Ariadne would have no choice but to come out of hiding and strike at them just to stem the tide of cruelty she was about to unleash.

“The Rizzo Army will bring down this menace,” Nicks announced, “join up with us today and we will return your children and your money to you!”

The crowd roared with applause. More importantly, video of the address would be automatically sent to all the system's major news networks, and posted on the FTLnet. Soon enough, they'd post a manifesto chock full of inflammatory rhetoric, and Ariadne would have no choice but to attack.

“In two weeks, we'll strike her in her home!” Nicks said. “We're going to occupy Mars!”

***

Ariadne knocked loudly on the door of La Pesadilla's high-rise apartment.

“Hang on, hang on, I hear ya,” the old woman grunted through the door. She pulled it open a few inches without undoing the chain, releasing a cloud of cigarette smoke, most of which they had to imagine had not come from the cigarette she was currently smoking. “Who's there?”

“You know exactly who it is,” Ariadne said, “I contacted you on the way here to tell you we were coming. Look, I didn't even fix your elevator this time.”

Ariadne was lying.

“Ah, hey brat. Gimme a minute, gotta undo the goddamn chain.” La Pesadilla closed the door. When it opened, she gestured at Ariadne with a machete. Spacebreather reflexively pulled her back. “Are you out of your fucking mind?! Do you know what kind of hurricane of fuck you've let loose?!”

“Like Grandmother, like Granddaughter,” Pilar commented.

“Ech, come on in,” La Pesadilla said. “Might as well. I ain't got shit going on in here no more.”

Ariadne and Pilar sat down on the old, dusty couch with its plastic slip-covers, and La Pesadilla sat two lukewarm glasses of dingy lemonade before them. It was little gestures like this that really showed how her grandmotherly instincts paired with her complete disgust with things like “people” and “hospitality.”

“If you're looking for information,” La Pesadilla asked, slumping down into her old, beat-up rocking chair, “I ain't got none. Your little friend is driving us hardworking blackmailers out of the game with her mind-reading trick. She knows everybody's secrets before I do, and if she catches them paying out to anybody else, she just kills 'em.”

“Believe it or not, we're not here for information this time,” Spacebreather said. “Blue says you guys have been more in the protection racket ever since the blackmail game dried up.”

“Don't tell me you two brats need protection,” she said.

“No, actually,” Ariadne said, “what we need is firepower and manpower. The Nameless plans to occupy Mars, and I don't want to endanger my crew any more than I need to. For manpower, I hear you know where to find the mercs that wouldn't join up with the Rizzo Army.”

“Do you know how much I'm getting paid to keep the location of Merctown secret?” She asked. “It's gonna take a lot to get me to give that information up.”

“For firepower… I need you to call your people and tell them I'm ready to make a deal.”

“Ain't got no people,” La Pesadilla said. “Just me.”

“I'm not playing games here, Pesadilla,” Ariadne said. “I need you to put me in contact with the Oort.”

La Pesadilla put out her cigarette. “I don't know who you been talkin' to, but–”

She was silenced abruptly when Ariadne produced the coin Blue had given her.

“Where'd you get that?”

“From the woman herself,” Ariadne said. “Told me you'd give me what I want if I showed it to you.”

“Fuck no, not if you show it to me,” she said. “Give it to me, that's a horse of a different color.”

La Pesadilla reached for it, and Ariadne pulled it back. “Why, what is it?”

“A favor,” she said. “No questions asked, no strings attached. A favor from Blue is worth Jupiter's weight in gold.”

“She's your granddaughter,” Pilar pointed out.

“Yeah, and I taught her how to do business,” she said, “and she didn't get where she was by makin' exceptions for Lola.”

“Kinda makes me feel like we'd be better off keeping the coin,” Ariadne said, “what do you think, querida?”

“I mean, we don't even know if she can really help us.”

“Wait!” La Pesadilla said. “I'll do it, if you just gimme that thing.”

“It's yours,” Ariadne said. “Once we have what we want. Send the location of Merctown to my communicator, and set a meeting with a representative of the Oort for the end of the week. We have some other business to attend to.”

“Payment up front,” La Pesadilla demanded. “How do I know you're not trying to cheat me?”

“How do we know you're not trying to cheat us?” Pilar pointed out.

Ariadne tossed her a credit chip. “An advance payment. Good-faith money. If we don't deliver, you'll at least break even.”

“Break even?!” La Pesadilla said. “This can't possibly be enough money to–”

“That chip gives you access to an offworld account containing a trillion dollars stolen from the Buchanan Corp,” Ariadne said. “A drip in the bucket compared to all we made on that job, but it should more than cover how much you stand to lose.”

“Congratulations, Pesadilla,” Pilar said, “You just became the richest woman on Calisto.”

La Pesadilla lit another cigarette. “Shee-it,” she said, “you girls ought to start selling favors! You got your wish. I'll send the intel to your communicator ASAP.”

“Knew we could count on you,” Ariadne said. “Give my best to your son-in-law.”

“That little bitch?” La Pesadilla said. “Don't know how my badass piece-of-shit granddaughter came out of that herb's balls.”

“Lovely,” Ariadne says. “Querida, we gotta go.”

Spacebreather knocked back her lemonade, and they hustled out the door.

“If I find out you fixed my elevator again,” La Pesadilla called after them, but they were already gone, “ah, who am I kiddin'. It's easy enough to break.”

“Did she help you?” Sweettalk asked, when Ariadne and Pilar got back to the ship. Sasha, Alicia, and Ghostrunner were waiting eagerly for answers.

“She did,” Ariadne said, “but we have more important things to worry about right now.”

Ariadne pulled out Can-Do's communicator and dialed up a message to the Nameless.

“You sure you want to do this?” Pilar asked. “When she sees what we've done, she'll know her mole is compromised. We won't be able to use this ruse again.”

“I'm sure,” Ariadne said. “Sweettalk, is the false flag broadcasting?”

“Loud and clear,” Sweettalk replied. She was currently remotely operating a broadcasting tower on Triton, Neptune's moon, issuing a challenge to the Nameless to meet them on the surface for one last showdown.

The Nameless would surely clock this as a trap and ignore it. All Ariadne had to do now was point her in the direction of the real trap and let her go on believing she had the upper hand.

She tapped out a simple but clear message, imitating the style Can-Do used in her communications as best she could:

“DECOY BASE ON TRITON IS A TRAP. ARIADNE'S REAL HIDEOUT ON PLUTO. HEAVILY GUARDED, HEAVILY CLOAKED. THINKS MOLE DEAD, TURNED OFF COMMS BARRICADE. CAN TURN ON LOCATION TO LEAD YOU TO HER.”

She fired it off, and moments later, three little dots appeared on the screen. The Nameless was typing her reply.

“THX. KEEP LOCATION ON. THAT WAY MERCS WILL KNOW NOT TO KILL YOU.”

Ariadne tapped out her reply.

“SEND HEAVY FORCES. SHE'S READY FOR A FIGHT.”

Three dots again.

“WILL DO. BE READY.”

Ariadne smiled. She bought it. It was a win-win:

Either the Nameless believed Triton was a false flag that she'd seen through and would send most of her forces to Pluto to eradicate her, or she would believe the message from “Can-Do” was a false flag she'd seen through, and send most of her forces to Triton to eradicate her. The trick was letting her believe she was being led away from Ariadne's location. The worst case scenario was that the Nameless did nothing and their real target remained heavily guarded, and if that were the case, they'd know in plenty of time to make their escape.

But it wouldn't be the case. Doing nothing would be tantamount to admitting Ariadne was smarter than her, and the Nameless was incapable of having a higher opinion of someone else than she had of herself.

Ariadne said. “Location switching on automatically in 60 seconds. You're up, Fastwing.”

She tossed the communicator over to Alicia, who caught it and placed it in a stasis-field over the ship's teleporter pad. “Sending it now.”

In a flash of blue light, the communicator vanished. Seconds later, it reappeared on the surface of Pluto.

The Rizzo Army would be on their way any second.

“Punch it, Querida,” Ariadne said, “we're taking back our home.”

[the-meandering-metaphysician]

Reflections: Akebi-chan no Sailor-Fuku Episode 7

Guys, I gotta level with ya on this episode. It was long ago I watched this show. I was mostly drawn to it by it’s purely calming atmosphere at first. But as I moved on, it continually impressed me. When it dawned on me that nearly a year later, I still am haunted by the truths this episode made apparent to me, I knew it must have been at least good enough (If not exceptional) far more than I originally anticipated.

            It culminates in the scene when Hebimori takes a walk after school, and witnesses everyone practicing for their club. The episode has an extreme attention to detail on the actual first steps of learning guitar. As a guitarist, I’m sure this gives special resonance to me. But even separate from that personal resonance, the message speaks to life as a whole. I’m sure none of us are strangers to lack of determination. Especially nowadays, with so many easy escapes available on the internet, that for many of us, it can feel an extremely difficult task keeping up everyday intensive hobbies, and through this neglect never experience that transformative and valuable joy of fighting for something and getting it.

            This is where I’m am so continually amazed by children’s style fiction. In many ways, I think Moe speaks to people because it does capture that calming effect of early children’s cartoons. From having a comfortable and warming color tone, to somewhat predictable plots, driven by very pleasant characters, calming music, everything is designed to evoke peace. It not only calls to mind the effect these early television shows we used to watch, but the state of mind which we were in when our parents sought to calm us down by method of simple, calming, brain numbing audio-video materials. I assumed as I aged, I must have gotten smarter, and the merit once gained from them was no longer applicable to the me today. But realizing this connection between moe and children’s literature and fiction, I realize the relevance it still holds as a valid theme in all artistic works.

            A Place Further than the Universe is a masterpiece, in a very different way that Les Miserables is. Yet, they both accomplish conveying an exceptionally deep message, and that’s why they both qualify as masterpieces. However, something like Les Miserables may initially seem more mature, it is rather just the detailed version of conveying some of the same messages. Whereas, much of Moe does the same thing, but in simpler terms. This is where Moe excels, it lowers your defenses. Makes you feel comfortable, safe, and not expecting anything to get too real. Hence, it is very functional for that purpose. However, there is the class of Moe (In my opinion, Quality Moe) that slips in those transformative moments, or in some cases, drops them glaringly in front of your face. Furthermore, since they are presented to such a childlike manner, it puts the deep, complex messages into words that even a child could understand. All of us, still having a piece or memory of what it was like to be that child, have a subconscious response to this. But when you think through your experience, and you realize it’s applicable to your life as an adult, you suddenly illuminate some of those lessons that slipped by you somehow. Or maybe, you just forgot them.

            All the time, I try to systematize my life to enhance it. Make a schedule, get more done, think harder. All of these have merit no doubt, but all seek to exploit the bounties of life through third person management. But thinking of this as the more mature way to handle things, we feel somewhat scared to break this rule enough as is healthy. We get too focused on the frills we put in place, but forget to search or keep in mind the fundamental message. That which doesn’t need to be explained to be known. Those lessons you just used to hear repeated by mentors, TV shows and friends. And you always wondered, which ones would stay applicable, and which ones were bullshit made up to manipulate my dumb child brain?

            That takes me too the club practice scene. Hebimori is on the verge of giving up, but comes to see so many of her peers and loved ones working so hard for what they’ve dedicated themselves too. From the gorgeous imagery, to the perfectly timed music, each one calls out to her. I always break down during this scene. As one of her classmates looks so distraught, and appears to be suffering so much from running, and it sinks in on Hebimori that she does this every day, and does it with enthusiasm, puts into contrast just how little she’s trying. Then, to the gut wrenching hollers of Akebi and the Drama Club President chanting vowels like drill sergeants, and the courage it takes for them to committing to embarrassing themselves in front of the school to pursue their hobby. Then, a more thoughtful reflection upon her roommate. As the music hangs, we hang in suspense waiting for her to make the shot, and she fails. But the shot doesn’t move on, and resumes for her second attempt, as the ball satisfyingly falls through the hoop, and we see a small token of her pay off from all her hard work. Framed so dramatically by the music and cinematography, yet such a small and seemingly mundane moment of progress. Even when slowed, it only lasts a few seconds at most.

            That is the beauty of this style. The lens through which everything is viewed, is so earnestly optimistic that just like Hebimori feels outdone by her classmates, you too feel outdone by the show. Even though fictional, you look at these people and see just how much work they put in every day to build the life of the happy person they have a responsibility to be. They see everything through meaning-­colored glasses. No matter the moment, every aspect of the direction is placed in order to convey the significance of the moment through anything but excessive words. It must be able to do so, on a level deeper than language. And if these characters who inspire you and give your day such a sweet nugget of joy, you feel challenged by them to see the worlds more beautifully. Or rather, by the work of art itself. And you think, if the world can look this beautiful, if you’re not seeing it this way for at least 25 minutes a day, then I don’t think you’re really living. Not to the fullest, at least.

            Seeing the following arc where they hear Erika play the piano so beautifully. Hebimori is so encapsulated by its beauty, that the animation morphs into an even hazier, warmer version of the art than before, beaming rays of soft light mixing with its seas of blues. She is taken away for a moment, from herself, her surroundings, her worries and her aspirations. She experiences when music takes you out of the body, out of the mind. But then, returning from that after the song ends and the animation returns to normal, she feels so left out and dry after returning to earth, experiencing the double edged sword of transformative art. It’s inspiring, and one of the things that makes life worth living, but it is also so daunting. To know, there are people this much better than me out there? It challenges your validity as an artist entirely, to realize that the people where you’re shooting to reach, are so far out of your league that you can barely even comprehend it. She tries to run away, but Akebi being such a good friend, (in other words, a mad bro) holds Hebimori accountable with her earnest and goodhearted desire to hear her play.

            The performance is definitely above average, but it pays attention to still encapsulating that quality of a passionate performance from a novice. That passion that captured, makes irrelevant the lack of otherwise necessary musical qualities. The rhythm is a bit of, the pitch isn’t perfect or the guitar out of tune. There’s not much I can say for this scene, because most of what it has to say can only be said through witnessing the beauty of this scene for the song. All I can really add, is that the cherry falls right on top when Akebi (being yet again a mad bro) claps so enthusiastically (like a child), and as if at a professional venue, that she is so earnestly proud of her friend, that she gives a full, loud, stupid looking standing ovation in the middle of an empty room. The vulnerability this character wears on her sleeve is absolutely endearing and inspiring, and I aspire to someday reach such levels of comfort with myself.

This episode reminds me that I need to seriously work at making my life and the worlds a better place if I truly want to see it happen. Luckily for me, I share a passion with the subject of this episode. So every day, I have the same reminder she does. The rusty stringed old friend leaning against the wall, begging me for my company. Remembering that if I truly love something, I need to invest in it every day. And maybe, if I do that, I really can change some things for the better.

The lessons these shows have taught me, I can never repay.

#anime #essays #music #philosophy #writing #moe #akebi chan no sailor fuku #akebi's sailor uniform #komichi akebi #cute girls doing cute things #sliceoflife #school life #life lessons

[tsuki-sennin]

Welcome back to Kamen Rider Tycoon! Boy, I'm sure proud of my friend Keiwa-kun, he's doing such an epic and cool job~! Neon's so cute and cool~! Mean ol' Azuma's a big ol softie deep down~! And Mister Punkjack, he's so wild and funny! Now that is epic~!

Enter Password: Spoilers, I guess...

Glare, log in!

Install. Dominate a System.

Booting... VisionOS

Warning! The publisher of VULPE-DEI.exe is unable to be identified by VisionOS, therefore was prevented from starting. Executing functions of this file can put your system at risk.

>Run anyway.

-Yep! We were kicking ass!

-The Game Master fucking cheated! Thank you for staying on our side, Tsumuri.

-Heyoooo, Ace!

-"What you doin' today, son? :)" FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

-I guess Ace got to keep everything then. ...and yet, nothing of what he was really fighting for.

-Fuck you Dad.

-Yeah good game you got here old man.

-Right, I think we've got the whole picture.

-The Jyamato are completely engineered and the DGP is just an elaborate excuse to get Giroli and the executives to jack off on their power fantasy.

-Wonder how long it'll take for Archimedel to decide to rebel?

-Ah, final boss already?

-Oooooh, Battleship! I love that game!

-True love!

-World peace!

-And winning!

-Let's move out.

-Just another round in the game, nothing to see here, folks~!

-Oh sure, go straight for the boss

-Oooooooh, there he is!

-Gotokuji-san! Ice Bear does not approve of your recklessness.

-Jya-Jya-Jya-Strike!

-Ohhhh shiiiit!

-Jyamato Green! Is! People!

-Yeah well Ace, God of Desire, is having himself a grand day out.

-He's probably had sex like 20 times off screen, and that's not even the main thing he remembered from that morning.

-What a swell guy, that Ace :)

-"This world... this world sucks!"

-"SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M WAY COOLER THAN ACE >:(" Azuma shouted, smashing his shoulder against an opponent who no doubt thought the exact opposite.

-Time for Zombie Pants!

-Ah, Buffa's gonna become God.

-It's all he ever really wanted!

-Propeller~! I see even with how much you despise Ace, you still take proper homework for his victories.

-Flyyyyy!

-Oh, there he is! Speak of he devil!

-"What the FUCK is a Geats?" Everyone when the trademark was revealed.

-Ace is just that kinda guy!

-Are those guys even still allowed in the game, Azuma?

-"SHUT THE FUCK UP, I'M GONNA WIN!"

-Good job there, Leeroy. At least you got your chicken, eh?

-You really bet the farm on that one horse, huh Giroli? ...or, buffalo in this case.

-Ohhhhhhh

-Ohhh nooooo, Buffa

-Is he

-Buffa NOOOOOOO

-NOOOOO

-YOU SON OF A BITCH, COME BACK

-TAKAHASHIIIIII

-Buffa has been eliminated.

-Gotta know when to fold 'em.

-So touching any Core gives you your memories back, huh?

-No more time for Geats.

-Fuck the game, we're just saving all those people.

-We're just not strong enough.

-Oh?

-Ah, you can just...

-Hand over a Boost, huh?

-God has a duty to look after His world.

-And His disciples are sent...

-Tsumuri-neesama :)

-OH YOU CAN JUST

-DO THAT

-LET'S GOOOO

-This is some Joseph Joestar shit right here.

-"DID YOU PLAN THIS TOO, GEATS!? TELL ME!"

-"WHY'RE YOU EVEN ASKING!? I SET THE TRAP AND YOU WALKED RIGHT INTO IT! ALL OF THIS WENT DOWN LIKE CLOCKWORK!"

-Lots of affirmations, huh Geats man?

-Oh, by the way, if you see golden feathers you should punch behind you.

-He's just playing the game, Giroli <3

-TRUST LAST LET'S GOOO

-I sure hope the full version comes out soon.

-Zombie and Boost! :D

-Hot damn, Fox Man going through it all!

-Good job, Game Master. Now everybody distrusts you.

-Storm the castle. Inside and out.

-Fireworks~!

-Get rubbled, idiot!

-Sasuga, Geats!

-Real?

-Ohhh?

-Ohhhh shiiiit, one last game, huh?

-Desire Grand Prix Desire God Torunament!

-He calls it a tournament, but in reality Mr. Game Master's making us do a fox hunt.

-Well, looks like Neon and Keiwa get one last shot at becoming God.

-...just gotta wait tiil Sunday.

#the world's next round: trick shot of desire for the grand victory #kamen rider #kamen rider geats #geats spoilers #kr geats

[restinslices]

Before y’all ask, YES I am working on Everything pt4.

However, I wanna rant real quick. TW for shitty ass feelings.

Idk if this is just me, but I have such a love hate relationship with the fact that I take meds for my depression and anxiety. On one hand it’s like “dude, you really need these meds. They help you. For fucks sake you’ve been hospitalized before”. On the other hand it’s like “why do you need meds to feel ok? Why can’t you just be normal? For fucks sake, you’ve been hospitalized before and kept bouncing between hospitals for over a year”. Surely this can’t just be me that’s felt this way right? I know I need these meds, but I hate that I need them. I went without meds for months and felt fine, but then the depression hit and I had to go on them again, so idk, I kinda feel like “damn. I’m never gonna be normal” and that’s so ass. And my shit is BAD. The persona I have online may seem very free and “I don’t give a fuck. Imma do me” but that is so not me irl. I’ve had to leave class because my panic attacks. School (before I went to an alternative school) was extremely difficult because so much of it was social work and for some reason my brain just shuts down. I’ll legitimately start shaking if I gotta talk to someone I don’t know. I get anxiety when I think about crossing the street. My brain is dumb as hell and I know this. And bitch the depression? Just take me out the game cause shit gets wild. I’ll neglect my responsibilities, my hygiene, I’ll just sleep all day so that I don’t have to think about how much I wanna control alt delete.

So believe me, I KNOW I need meds. I just hate that I can’t function like a normal person without meds. When it came to my ptsd, it got better. I can stay home alone, I don’t panic as much as I did when I hear cars passing, I can walk by myself without worrying about getting attacked, if my dad were to text me right now I’d be annoyed instead of scared, shit like that. It took like, 4 years but it got better. I don’t see me ever getting better when it comes to this and being what’s considered normal. Some days I’m ok with that. Some days I’m not.

And bitch while I’m typing, peep game. So my dad was abusive, hence the ptsd. Once I got away from him, I never spoke to him again as you can imagine (he kept harassing me through text but speeding past that-). But I never imagined that my dads side of the family would never speak to me again as well. And don’t get me wrong, they’re not my favorite people. One cousin in particular can never come around me again for a specific traumatic reason but we’re gonna move past that and focus on the bigger picture. And I’ve tried to keep in touch with certain people and my mom even asked one of my cousins that I actually like to check in on me because it isn’t fair that everyone dropped me, but no one is doing their part. That cousin never contacts me and I’m always reaching out. It’s always me calling. Me checking in. Why can’t y’all do the same? I’m the bitch with trauma. So I stopped calling and we’ve stopped speaking. And apart of me is like “Slices, they’re your grandparents so maybe technology is hard” but another part is like “they have multiple phones. How hard would calling me be? What about my cousins and aunts and uncles that never make the effort with me too? Why am I doing all the work and these grown ass people aren’t doing shit to keep our relationship growing?”. It’s just not fair. And I know “not fair” sounds childish because life isn’t fair, but that’s the only way I know how to describe it. It’s just not fair. The whole court shit happened when I was 14. I am 18 now and none of y’all have tried. And it’s not like I would just visit so our relationship ain’t that deep. Nah. I’ve lived with these people. Our family was close. So like?? And all my dad had to do legally for us to possibly start talking again was go to counseling, and he hasn’t done that yet and never will. So it’s like, why am I not worth holding onto or fighting for to anyone on that side of the family? What’s wrong with me?

I’m getting sad as fuck so imma end this here and go watch some edits or smth. This isn’t some cry for help, I promise. I’m not finna take myself off the Census. And this isn’t me fishing for anything. I’m just ranting. It’s a lot easier to do online, yk? I don’t feel like I’m bothering anyone with my shitty ass feelings because you can always just skip it. Sorry for bitching on main. I’m still the strong leader of our bread slices cult💪🏾🍞

Also the beginning is NOT an attack on people waiting for Everything pt4. I just know people are waiting for it and I’m working on it, but I feel like buns and those chapters are longer so they take longer to put out.

#Slices Speaks #Slices is ranting because life has her fucked up rn #it’s a long rant #my bad #I feel like ass #and not even a nice fat ass #a lumpy plastic surgery gone wrong ass

[jonesatheart]

Touch Averse

Some more plot exploration from the WIP containing Alleyway and Make It Stop. If this piece is included in the final version of this work it will likely come toward the end after both of the above mentioned posts, but they are not required for context here. That said, there is implied and allusions to past noncon.

April relaxed back against Casey's side, stretching her arm across his lap as she did so, and rest her hand on the outside of his thigh.

She glanced up when he took her hand by sliding his own underneath hers and squeezing it lightly.

"Casey?"

"Hm?"

"Are you comfortable like this?"

He frowned and glanced down at her. "Yeah, but I can move if you need more room or somethin'."

April smiled wryly at him. "You're already up against the arm of the couch so good luck with that. I meant with my arm on you." She squeezed his hand.

Casey glanced down at her arm rested across his legs. "I mean, I hadn't really thought about it. I guess so."

April nodded. "I just noticed that when I sit like this with you, you pick my hand up off your leg and I want to make sure I'm not making you uncomfortable or touching you in a way you don't like."

"Oh. I...guess I hadn't really noticed it," he chuckled, non committal.

"It's okay if it does," April assured. "I'm not going to be offended. You're allowed to tell me not to touch you in specific ways or even at all," she added when an uncertain look passed over his face. He pulled his feet from the table and April pulled her arm away to let him sit up more fully. "I don't want to put you through all that again."

"Guess I just...hadn't thought about it before."

April nodded. "That makes sense, that's what your brain used to protect you before."

Casey snorted. "Some protection. Feels more like I let myself be abused."

"The things our brains do, especially when it comes to things like trauma, don't always make sense, sweetie. When put into a new and scary situation, your brain froze and chose to wait out what was happening and maybe even went to fawn to prevent anything else bad happening to you. That's not your fault. Not wanting to think about it or talk about it is another way your brain tries to protect you. Like your body tuning out chronic pain in order to maintain functioning in life."

"That's not really a healthy thing to do," Casey noted.

"No, it's not," April agreed. "But sometimes it is what we have to do. And coping skills are things that can be learned and adapted. And while some are maladaptive, that doesn't make them useless. In moments of danger fawning and freezing have helped and protected you, and humans, especially autistic and traumatized ones are very good at picking out patterns, even if they're not always consciously aware of it. And when those patterns are seen even in the slightest way, the brain will fall back on what it knows works."

"That's why I never thought about the whole being touched thing." Casey sighed and rubbed his face with both hands. "I hate this," he murmured.

"I know, sweetheart, but being aware is what let's us start finding better things to cope and help us feel more comfortable existing in moments like this without relying on those fight or flight type responses."

"I don't even know where to start with that though," Casey complained.

"You're doing it right now," April encouraged. "You're having an incredibly vulnerable conversation with me and you're staying present and not just agreeing with everything I say. Anxiety being present doesn't inherently mean your doing something wrong."

"It helps I don't feel like I gotta worry about you gettin' mad at me."

"I'm really glad you feel safe with me. I feel safe with you too. I think that's a big reason of why we can have these conversations. Because as hard and scary and vulnerable as they are, we feel safe with each other."

"Bein' nervous or afraid isn't always bad though, right?"

"I think it depends on what's behind them and what they set off. But I don't think they're inherently bad, they just might need a little extra conversation."

Casey nodded.

"What are you thinking?"

"Thinking I kinda wanna try starting over. But actually pay attention this time."

"With my hand on your leg?"

Just another nod.

"Okay. We can absolutely do that. It is okay if you decide if you don't like it, though," April reminded as Casey leaned into the back of the couch. Once he was settled she nestled against his side again then rested her arm across his lap, resting her hand again on the outside of his thigh.

"I think I figured it out, but ya can't look at me otherwise I'm gonna get stuck."

"I'm listening," April promised, keep her eyes on the coffee table.

"I don't think I mind ya hand there, but the whole arm feels like...too much. But I pick ya hand up so I can feel like I can move it when I need to move without makin' it a whole thing. The other thing is the whole...'feels good' phrase kinda...makes it feel...gross. The context it's usually in makes my insides squirm."

April pulled her arm back and rested her hand on Casey's knee nearest her. "Is this more comfortable?"

"I think so."

"Okay, thank you for telling me. I'll do my best to not do the other. Is asking if something is comfortable okay or do you want to come up with another way I can check in with you?"

"That one's okay. It sounds less..."

"Sexual?" April offered. She smiled at the grimace she was sure Casey was sporting. "It's okay. Honey, I am not going to mock you for being uncomfortable with those topics or themes."

"I feel stupid for it," he answered quietly.

April took a breath and decided to take a calculated risk. "You are more than welcome to tell me no, but I can I blunt about something for a second?"

"Is this one of those 'you know I love you, right?' kind of a things?"

April thougt for a moment. "Kind of. It is something that might be hard or a little uncomfortable to hear, but it's not exactly 'tough love' like the other is usually used for." She waited patiently for Casey to decide.

"Yeah, alright, lets hear it," he decided.

"Being sex averse in anyway will never make you less of a man. Especially not to me. I know society and stereotypes would tell you otherwise, but they don't care about you and they're wrong. They're so wrong. The expectations put on you aren't fair, the things that society would lead to believe you need to place your self-worth in a wrong. You are invaluable to me as you are. And being sex and touch averse can never take anything away from you."

"Thanks, April," Casey answers quietly.

"No matter what kind of relationship we have, even if we just stay here, I'm always going to care about you. That isn't something you're ever going to have to earn with me."

#whumptober2023 #no.17 #touch averse #tmnt #fic #implied noncon tw #noncon tw #my writing

[earlgreydream]

relax.

| theo x reader | fluff | smut |

anon requested. some soft Theo smut and fluff too

a/n: this is so self indulgent

You let Theo go to work that morning, promising you’d be okay. He wanted to stay home and care for you, but you’d insisted that the Ministry needed him more.

Your cycles were always extra painful due to your hormone issues, keeping you from functioning for the first couple of days. Theo didn’t like to leave you, he’d rather stay and care for you, even though it happened every month.

You received little text messages throughout the day from your partner, Theo reminding you how much he loved you, and that he’d be home soon.

You managed to nap, sleeping off some of the vicious cramps in your abdomen. You’d drifted off on the couch, a knitted throw tossed over your body.

Theo got home from work with a bouquet of tulips for you, along with chocolate that you liked. He entered quietly in case you were sleeping, and he smiled when he saw you curled up on the couch. He set down the flowers and candy on the coffee table, lightly kissing your temple and adjusting the blanket to cover you properly. He picked up quietly, smiling when he saw you fell asleep to a muggle show about magic.

You stirred awake, breaking into a pained smile when you saw the flowers and chocolate. You winced as you sat up, and Theo walked over to sit beside you.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” He asked, kissing your cheek that had the pattern of the throw pillow indented into your skin from falling asleep on it.

“I hurt,” you confessed, biting into chocolate and curling up against his chest. His hand slid under the waistband of your sweats, gently rubbing your abdomen with one of his warm hands. The action pulled a sigh from your lips, and Theo gently kissed you. You tasted like chocolate, and Theo smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you back,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheeks all over until a sharp pain shot through you at the movement. You cried out, and Theo tightened his arms around you, hurting at the sound of your pain.

“The muggles swear sex helps with the cramps,” Theo said, and you looked up at him.

“Theodore, it’s messy and icky,” you shook your head.

“It doesn’t bother me, and messes can be cleaned up. If you don’t want to, we don’t have to try it. But I want to help you feel better,” his dark eyes held your gaze.

“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?” You asked, ready to try just about anything to dull your pain.

“Of course I’m sure.”

He took your hand and led you upstairs to the bedroom, putting down a towel so you didn’t destroy your sheets. You’d been promised a shower after, but Theo could sense your apprehension.

“I’m going to take care of you, it’s okay,” he kissed you, helping you out of your clothes.

You went to clean yourself up first, and when you returned, Theo gave you a gentle smile as he kicked his trousers off. You laid down on the bed, letting him climb over you and gently kiss your nose.

“Theo, be gentle, please,” you begged softly, and he held your face.

“I’ll always be gentle with you, sweetheart. You can trust me, I’m going to take care of you.”

You nodded tearfully, your emotions a mess because of your hormones. He smiled and kissed you, letting you relax a bit before kneeling between your legs.

You pulled him down onto you, wanting to be close. Your arms hooked around his neck, feeling his warm chest against yours.

Theo prodded at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. You whimpered, over sensitive and sore from your period. Your body resisted against your mental will, and Theo kissed your shoulder, dipping a hand between your bodies.

“Sweetheart, you gotta relax for me,” Theo hummed, tracing small circles on your clit. He sighed and pushed deeper inside of you as the tension in your muscles released, allowing him to bottom out. You whimpered, trying to adjust as he thrusted slowly. The pain slowly faded, and your cramps eased as Theo’s slick thrusts brought you nearer to an orgasm.

“Theo!” You gasped as he pressed a bit harder on your nerves and rolled his hips forward. You were still a bit hesitant, despite trusting Theo with your lift. He kissed you and buried his face in your neck, whispering softly.

“Let go, it’s okay. You don’t have to hang on for me,” Theo encouraged you, and you relaxed, letting yourself orgasm. Relief flooded through you, your cramps giving way as the tension in your muscles released.

“Good job, sweetheart,” he praised you, kissing your lips. You whined as he pulled out of you, wincing at the feeling.

He quickly moved the two of you into a shower, cleaning up and relaxing under the water. He gave you tons of little kisses, praising you and telling you how much he loved you. You clung to his warm body, even in the water. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, and he nodded, his soft lips pressing against your forehead. 

“Of course.”

An hour later, you were curled up on the couch with chocolate, comfortable for the first time in days. The room smelled faintly of flowers, and he watched a film you loved, holding you in his lap. 

“I could stay like this forever with you,” Theo kissed your cheeks, making you laugh.

“You’re such a charmer.”

He opened his mouth for you to feed him a piece of chocolate, giggling as he gently bit the tip of your finger. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” 

#earl grey theo #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott blurb #theo nott x reader #theo nott x reader fluff #theo nott x reader smut #golden era #hogwarts #harry potter #female reader #anon requested

[pancakehouse]

Love Me Harder

(I just finished my two thousandth re-read of @theprongsletthatlived‘s Chocolate Cake/Banana Split, can you tell?)

based on this song // Also inspired by that one time my best friend sent me a video of some random frat boy giving her a lap dance at a party and said - without an ounce of irony - “this is kinda romantic, right?”

CW: swearing, alcohol, partying, mentions of sexual content (nothing explicit), very brief mention of an STD, and some overall questionable drunken behaviors

(nothing too crazy though, all in good fun!)

********

“Hey James?” Sirius asked, frowning down at his phone, “If you saw a video of Lily giving some other guy a lap dance while an entire house full of people cheered them on…you would probably feel the need to cry, right? Or punch him in the face? Or track fucking Benjy Fenwick down at his pretentious little filming studio and hang him upside down out of a window until he promises to keep his grimy little hands off of my Remus?”

“You know, I’m not sure Lily even knows Benjy,” James said, before sighing and pulling Sirius’ phone from his clenched hands.

Sirius gritted his teeth as James pressed play, resisting the childish urge to close his eyes and plug his ears until it was all over.

If you just let me invade your space,

I’ll take the pleasure, take it with the pain

“Well, I guess this explains why I’ve been hearing this song through your bedroom wall on repeat for the last 6 hours,” James stared incredulously at the screen. “Christ, who even knew Remus could move like that?”

“I did,” Sirius said bitterly. “And now, apparently, so does the entire school.”

‘Cause if you want to keep me, you’ve gotta gotta gotta gotta got to love me harder, love me harder

And if you really need me—

Sirius had memorized the entire video by then, but he couldn’t resist peering over James’ shoulder to torture himself with it once more. Gideon Prewitt had filmed it - before forwarding it on to Sirius with a cheeky, this yours? - and the only thing that kept it from being completely unbearable to watch was the angle it was taken from.

Gideon was in Remus’ direct eye line from the first moment. Which meant that, because of the way Remus was positioned (straddling a pair of hips that were decidedly not Sirius’), Benjy’s face was never actually featured in the video. And by using his thumb to cover the blob of near-bleached blonde hair in the corner of the screen, Sirius could easily let himself pretend the show was all for him.

When I get you moaning, you know it’s real,

Can you feel the pressure between your hips?  

And God, it was like he was looking right at Sirius. The way that Remus’ gaze stayed trained directly on the camera, as if making sure Gideon wasn’t missing a single moment of swaying and hip thrusting and grinding, it sort of did feel like it was all for Sirius. He just would’ve much preferred enjoying the view from up close.

It had only taken Sirius about three minutes of threatening significant damage to Gideon’s bodily functions before he’d gotten Benjy’s name. But, after the haze of rage had faded enough from his mind to consider something other than graphic acts of violence, he recognized that a Future Sirius might be grateful that a video of Remus moving so delectably existed. He might even thank Benjy for his role as a pawn in whatever game Remus was trying to play with him.

‘Cause if you want to keep me—

Sirius watched as an on-screen Remus, still looking right into the lens as he moved (and all but ignoring Benjy completely), tilted his head slowly to the side and deliberately tapped the spot just below his jawline, right at his pulse point.

That soft patch of skin was Sirius’ absolute favorite spot to latch onto. It was silky smooth and so warm and always smelled so thoroughly of Remus. It was all hints of cinnamon and honey and remnants of the tea he always ordered from their favorite cafe. Sirius loved to run his nose against it, followed by his lips and then teeth, just to hear the way it made Remus’ breath catch and his body melt like putty in his arms. That was Sirius’ spot and since the day they met he’d never once let Remus out of his sight without making sure he had good and thoroughly lavished his attention (and tongue) all over it.

Seeing Remus touch that spot now, with his groin in another man’s face—

And if you really need me,

You gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, got to

Love me harder

He never should’ve bailed on that fucking party. Or, actually, he absolutely should have. But he should have bailed on it and then proceeded to spend the rest of his night with Remus in his bed. In his arms. In his mouth.

He should not have been spending his night at Grimmauld Place arguing with a set of parents who meant less to him than the speck of dirt on his shoe.

And he most definitely should not have refused to tell Remus where he was going, preferring to let him believe he was fucking around on him, rather than forcing him to hear about the never ending shit-storm that was Sirius’ family.

“Were you the one recording this?” James asked, turning the volume down as Remus’ show ended and cheers rang through the party.

“Are you insane?”

“Okay, okay, I know. It’s just the way—I swear he’s staring at the camera like he wants to, I don’t know, crawl inside of it and it’s making me feel both very violated and maybe a little turned on,” James said, laughing. “But it also just reminds me of the way he always looks at you.”

“He looks at me like he wants to crawl inside of me?” Sirius smirked, not minding the visual of that in the least. If it were up to him, that’s precisely where he would keep his Remus at all times. Inside of him. Where he belonged.

And where faceless blondes wearing cheesy Hawaiian print shirts couldn’t get their grabby little hands all over him. And he would do just about anything to make that happen.

********

Sirius had just sat down at the table when he registered the music playing from the restaurant’s overhead speakers.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Love me, love me, love me

“Jesus Christ,” Sirius grumbled. But when he looked up, all annoyance immediately evaporated as he was greeted with the grinning face of one Remus Lupin standing over him. The exact angle he should’ve been enjoying that stupid fucking song from last night.

“Sorry I’m late,” Remus leaned down to kiss him softly, running his hands lightly across Sirius’ chest before pulling away, smirking as Sirius’ mouth chased after him. “My shift ran over when I had to take revenge on one of your dickhead economics buddies after he cussed Dorcas out for daring to actually do her job.”

“What’d you do - corner him in the back alley? Slash his tires? Throw a wad of chewed up gum into his over-gelled hair?” Sirius grinned widely as Remus settled into the booth across from him. Much too far away for Sirius to be as handsy as he generally preferred, but he contented himself with closing the distance between their legs, slotting them together under the table.

“Worse,” Remus’ eyes shone as he pressed his thigh into Sirius’. “I told him cryptos are fake money, The Wolf of Wall Street was a shitty movie, and convinced him the ROI on an Economics degree is the same as Art History. He almost cried, it was delightful.”

“Delightful,” Sirius agreed, heavily distracted by the warmth of Remus’ legs and the devious gleam in his big doe eyes.

They first met last year, on a night out at the Three Broomsticks, the main bar on campus where everyone converged on weekends. James had been right in the middle of his relentless pursuit of winning fair Lily’s affections, so Sirius had resigned himself to a night of getting drunk, playing billiards, and watching his best friend repeatedly confess his undying love to a (not-so) reluctant party. But when they’d walked up to the corner booth where Lily sat with her friends, it had taken all of three seconds before Sirius was the one on his knees confessing his undying love to the beautiful creature in front of him.

Remus Lupin was all flushed cheeks and full, pouty lips and dimples and soft curls made up of freshly spun locks of gold. Sirius was floored. Remus was an absolute angel and Sirius told him so.

But, even then, Remus had unequivocally matched Sirius’ over-the-top flirting and blatant innuendos with his own cheeky retorts and the same devilish glint in his wide amber eyes that were on display across the table from him right now.

“So,” Remus said, peering up at him through long eyelashes, “Did you see my video?”

Sirius took a long, slow sip from the drink he’d barely noticed the waitress setting in front of him. “Mmhm.”

“And what did you think?”

“What did I think?” Sirius repeated.

“Yeah, Benjy thought it was kind of romantic,” Remus said. And he almost managed to look genuine, but Sirius knew better. He could see the hurt in Remus’ eyes, the hint of accusation in his voice. He was maybe the only one_ _who would be able to tell the difference.

And he hated himself for being the one to put that look there. But him and Remus didn’t play games with each other. Well, they did, but that was usually in a much sexier scenario that generally involved a tangle of limbs and sheets and most definitely did _not _include Remus’ gorgeous long legs anywhere near someone else.

“And did you?” Sirius asked, pulling his own legs back to his side of the table, immediately missing the warmth of Remus against him.

“Did I what?”

“Did you think it was romantic?” And Sirius’ own hurt must’ve shown on his face because Remus reached quickly across the table for his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I saw Gid and Fabian there. Figured they were always looking for a chance to piss you off and it suited my mood perfectly last night, thinking about you out with some—” he paused, taking in a breath, then continued, “Anyway, I got the DJ to play that stupid song and dragged—”

“I liked the song,” Sirius cut him off quickly, unable to stand the idea of hearing that name come out of those lips again. He was used to the hordes of faceless men who were always sniffing around Remus. There were groups of them he had to regularly fend off himself. But Remus had never picked any of them over Sirius before. And that stung. “The song was great. Your dancing was great. It was all great,” he leaded back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest in and smirking in an attempt at nonchalance, “Definitely romantic, I’d say. You two seem like a good match.”

Remus stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression, then slid straight out of the booth. He ran a hand roughly through his curls, before letting them flop back onto his forehead with a sigh. “You just—You never say what you really fucking mean, Sirius. And I don’t know what to do with it anymore,” he took a second to drop a creased bill onto the table before looking back at him.

Remus frowned slightly, seeming to contemplate something, then said, “I love you, Sirius. I’ve been in love with you since day fucking one. And you know it. But we can’t—I can’t do it like this anymore. I can’t be _us _like this anymore. You never just let me all the way in and I don’t know why and I’m just so fucking tired.”

And he looked it. His lips were downturned in a frown, dimples nowhere to be found, and Sirius didn’t know when that look had starting appearing in his company. Didn’t know when he starting being the one to put it there.  

Remus turned to go and Sirius felt his heart make a very real effort to pop straight out of his chest. Like it was trying to warn him that he was about to let the best thing that had ever happened to him walk away. As if he wasn’t already painfully aware of that fact.

“Wait, wait, Re. Please, stop,” Sirius grabbed his arm, tugging softly. “Please just listen.” Remus turned around slowly. Reluctantly. But that was enough. It had to be. “I wasn’t with any other guy last night. Or any other night.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, disbelievingly, but otherwise stayed silent.

Sirius breathed deeply. “Right. So. No other guys.” More silence. “I mean, unless we’re counting that time at the Hog’s Head that James dared me to take eight shots of Firewhiskey and I ended up with my hands down Rosier’s jeans. But that was only because I thought he was you! I realized my mistake as soon as I was on my knees because, well, even drunk out of my mind, I still know exactly how it feels to have your co—”

“Oh Christ,” Remus cut him off, an adorable blush dusting the tops of his cheeks, “So you groped Evan Rosier because you mistook him for me? We look nothing alike, he has like seven piercings!”

“It was dark! And his butt is very perky and grabbable, it’s a compliment really.”

Remus scoffed and rolled his eyes, but Sirius counted the slight twitch in his lips as a victory. “Oh, well, thank you, I suppose.”

“I meant a compliment to him,” Sirius grinned cheekily and was rewarded with another eye roll and a brief flash of the dimples.

“Right,” Remus said, “well, thanks for clearing that up then. No other guys. Got it.” And then he turned to leave again, making it all the way out of the restaurant before Sirius realized what was happening and sprinted after him.

“I was with my family!” He shouted, much too loud considering the parking lot was nearly empty, and Remus was only a few steps ahead of him.

“What?”

Sirius shrugged, smiling sadly. “They’re the worst. Truly, the worst. I barely let James near them and he knows what they’re like. I was just—trying to protect you from them,” Sirius paused, frowning, “That sounds like an excuse. I suppose it is. I just didn’t want you to see how certifiably insane they are, realize that I’m exactly the same, and bolt.”

“Why would I bolt?” Remus stepped closer, just two short feet separating them now.

“Because it’s too much?” Sirius shrugged again, “I’m too much? I mean, last night after watching that video, I definitely texted everyone I’ve ever met that Barry has the clap. Including your mother.”

“Benjy,” Remus corrected, then smirked, “And he doesn’t have chlamydia.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes playfully. “And how would you know that?”

Luckily Remus laughed. But it was much too short and then he immediately became serious again. Fixing him with a hard look. “You are way, way too much. Always have been.”

Sirius nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

“And I love you.”

“Yeah?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Good?”

Sirius grinned, watching as Remus unconsciously mirrored him. “Yeah, because I really fucking love you too.”

********

“You know,” Sirius said, two hours later, from where he sat sprawled out on his couch, hands gripping tightly onto the hips that were twisting and swaying so fluidly above him, “I think what’s-his-name might have been right.”

“Oh?” Remus smirked, pausing his dancing to hover just above Sirius’ lap. So close that Sirius could easily pull him down into a proper straddle if he wanted to. Which he would. Soon. “Right about what?”

Sirius tangled his hands in Remus’ hair, yanking gently and reveling in the soft moan it brought. He smiled at his flushed cheeks, letting his fingers dust over every inch of Remus’ face. The tops of his cheekbones, the light sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of his nose, under his eyes then, so softly, his eyelashes. And finally, pulling gently on his lips, soft and plump beneath his fingers.

“Sirius?” Remus whispered, letting their foreheads fall against each other.

“Yeah?”

“What was what’s-his-name right about?”

Sirius grinned, leaning in until their lips were barely brushing together. “This really is kind of romantic.”

Love me, love me, love me

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Harder, harder, harder

#did I actually finish something and post it? #who am I? #my writing #wolfstar #remus x sirius #marauders fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #moony #padfoot #my fic #love me harder

[ficsforeren]

Hey bbyyyy I’m loving all your hcs they’re so cute. I am curious tho, do you have any for the day the baby is born like the when the reader tells him that she thinks she’s going into labor in the worst possible place lol, or maybe she’s at home and he’s out then he gets a call from her saying her water just broke and he’s like O H MY SHIT WTF. Also where he gets to hold his baby for the first time and the reader is just looking at him like 🥺

OK SORRY IF THAT WAS TOO MUCH BUT IF YOU DONT WANNA WRITE THEM ITS OKAY. LOVE U

Aawww thank you so much, love ❤️❤️❤️

oh man, you better hope you don't go into labor when he's on stage because I think the second rockstar!eren hears about the news, he's just going to panic. and not just panicking in the way that he's like shaking his manager by the shoulder and shouts, "Levi! Can you send someone to her place now?! She's alone, I need her to be safe—please, please make sure she's okay or I'm not gonna finish this fucking show for you, I swear to God, I won't!"

But more like his brain just completely stops working for a moment when he hears a nurse calling him on your behalf, letting him know that you're in labor (he was about to go on stage in ten minutes and he went to his phone to make a quick call so you could wish him good luck but instead, he got a call from the hospital). With his bass still hanging on his back, he mumbles incoherently, his thoughts are running too fast for his mouth to say the words. "I gotta... I need to... She's having a baby..."

He can barely function but he's already making his way to the nearest exit door. Levi catches him on time and asks "What the fuck are you doing?! You're live in five minutes!" and Eren goes into a frenzy, his chest suffocating, his eyes opened wide. Gripping the other man tightly by the shoulders, he says, "I'm having a baby-—LEVI, I'M HAVING A FUCKING BABY—WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO?!?!?!" and it takes like three men to calm him down.

But if he's there with you when you're going into labor, he'll try his best to keep himself composed no matter how anxious and worried and terrified he is inside. He'll hold you by the hand, with another one wrapped around your waist protectively as he helps you stand from the bed. He sees that your water just broke, drenching your dress and he's about to pass out from the sight but he stays strong. "Baby? Baby, you're going to be okay. I'm taking you to the hospital now, all right?" He kisses your temple before he guides you to the front door. "You'll be safe. You're not alone, I'm gonna be with you all the time. You hear me? We'll get through this together."

and when he gets to hold the baby for the first time?

Eren goes still for a good whole minute, just watching the way the baby is sleeping in his arms. She's so little, so fragile and his heart squeezes at the sight. You keep your smile to yourself as you see the way he's biting his lower lip to hold back his tears, afraid that if he cries, he's going to wake the baby. He holds her close, so close to his heart and he grits his teeth to keep himself silent. The sight of it makes you melt inside and you ask him, "What should we name her?"

Eren sniffles, taking a moment to himself to suppress his sobs. He turns to you when he's sure he's calm enough to speak. "I don't know... I really can't think about anything right now..." He chuckles softly, still gazing at the baby with his eyes full of wonder. "I can't believe we made this... Look at her... She's so perfect..."

He then takes a seat on the edge of your hospital bed. Still lying down, you wipe the tears away from his cheek with your thumb. Eren laughs once, a bit embarrassed. He tilts his head to kiss your palm, sighing into your touch.

"How about Irene?"

"Irene..." Eren unconsciously repeats as he stares at the baby. His little girl moves slightly, her tiny lips almost forming a smile. "I think she likes it..." He titters. "Irene..." He bends his head down, lips brushing against the baby's head. "I will love you so much, Irene..."

Your heart warms. "She'll love you so much too."

He turns to you, looking like he's falling in love with you all over again. "Thank you..."

"For what?"

"For making me the happiest man in the world." He leans in to kiss your lips. "I love you."

#eren fluff #eren smut #eren headcanons #aot fluff #snk fluff #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader fluff #eren jaeger x reader fluff #eren yeager x reader fluff #the last song canon