#debated a little on whether or not to actually post this but fuck it you know?

[megaawkwardhuman]

finally explaining the bunny thing!

ok I'm currently really board and stumbled upon an old sketch book and I've decided hey let's FINALLY explain why tf I draw wwdits characters as bunnies (cuz I know it's random as shit and I personally find the story behind my bunny art intresting)

so strap in cuz I'm going to write a lot for something I could probably sum up in two sentences

also small heads up a lot of drawn cartoon violence and blood ahead sooooooo :|

if you just want a short answer I draw these goofy looking bunnies cuz 1 it's fun 2 it's kinda a way to release stress and just a way to overall put myself in a better mood. at first I was drawing the same bunny getting kill/injured over and over again and now I draw characters I like as cute bunnies cuz it cheers me up and it's fun!

ok so I know that last part came out of nowhere but to explain a bit of how tf we got from point a to point b that let's go to the long answer

OK SO (wow I say ok so a lot sorry idk how else to start shit lol) THIS ALL STARTS SOMETIME AROUND EARLY 2022

well if you really get technical it all starts like late 2019 early 2020 when I first read a little comic called johnny the homicidal maniac then picks up in early 2022

in the comic there's a character called nail bunny which as the name kinda suggests is a dead bunny with a nail in it and I wanted to draw this character for whatever reason (I think I might have re read the comic? or I was just bored at the time idfk)

shortly after starting I gave up and instead doodled this:

why yes that was a heart and yes I did scribble all over it and stabbed it with a pencil for some reason? I kinda learned not to question past me at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

so later that night I couldn't for the life of me sleep and idk why but I couldn't forget this bunny I drew so I pulled out my sketch book at the time and drew this:

(btw the little virgo simbol in the corner of some of these drawings was my signature at the time cuz it's my zodiac sign and I thought it looked neat)

and as the next day came and I talked to my friends over discord I STILL couldn't get this bunny out of my head so we gave her a name

this plush (yes despite bleeding this bunny and any bunny I draw is intended to be a plush bunny which is why I draw them with twinkies for arms and legs) bunny over here is named alexis (named after a friend who wanted the bunny to be named after her) and from that day onwards it was my goal to needlessly kill/injured her over and over in ridiculous ways

the story I created for this character to kinda justify it is that she gets killed/injured in ridiculous ways often (which is why I draw her with X eyes) cause her luck is just REALLY shitty and she just kinda accepts it all at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

some of my favs from this time:

as times goes by I draw her less and less (cuz I shit you not I ran out of ideas) to the point where I kinda stopped drawing bunny art

jump to later in 2022 and after creating a pixel art shitpost which led to me learning pixel art (but that's another story for another time) I realized wait a minute I actually really like this but idfk what to draw

then I remembered alexis existed! so while chatting with a good friend of mine I asked how should I kill her this time (yes that's exactly what I asked he knew about the bunny thing tho) he said "dying peacefully in a hospital"

so like the great friend I am I decided to be a dick and drew this

this led to the creation of a new bunny character alexis's friend/roommate/idfk what they are anymore courtney!

courtney's little shory is she knows alexis, she has witnessed her die far too many times, and in later drawings she would gain the stare of a victorian child

no joke she looks like she saw her parents die of the plague

after asking the same friend what else to draw alexis doing I also created a zombie bunny but I didn't really draw them much

all of this sparked another wave of bunny art with like a few digital drawings but after a bit it went back to traditional but now with color!

some faves from this wave:

now ngl this next point is a blur but soon I would draw something that would change the course of history bunny art where bunnies AREN'T killed *gasp*

so apparently this happened earlier this year but it feels like it happened last year ngl

at this point I wasn't drawing bunnies AS much but I would doodle them every so often and for whatever reason I decided to draw stede and ed as bunnies (it might have to do with the fact that I'm not the greatest at drawing humans but idk)

and for a while it sat in a notebook with the only people I've shown it to being my irl friends

that is until the one year anniversary of this show when I decided to open up that pixel art website again and turn it into pixel art! (here's a link to the post tho I lowkey wanna redraw this since I don't like the way I drew the ears) and originally it was going to be the only bunny pixel art I was gonna do since it took a while and idk how I felt about the results

but then wwdits brainrot set in and I decided since I suck at drawing humans why not draw my boy guillermo as a bunny and the rest was history

ngl when my bunny art first for attention whenever I saw someone calling it cute in the back of my mind I would think hehehe this only exists cuz I would stop killing the same bunny over and over again

so now you know the history behind the art

yay but why?

weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell

at the beginning it was just a fun little thing I did and I never gave it much thought. It wasn't until recently as I started to post it onto tumblr I ACTUALLY thought about my bunny art and to say it's just a fun thing to do doesn't really describe it as well as it used to. To me it grew to be MORE than that! it's a simple thing I could draw to mess with new mediums, it's a thing a can draw over and over again and not have to worry about how it turns out since even if I post it on here at the end of the day I'm mainly drawing it for myself, if I need to let off some steam I can draw alexis getting killed in a goofy way, and if I don't wanna draw alexis I can't just draw wwdits bunny stuff since that always cheers me up since it's hard to be upset while drawing plush bunnies (and trust me I've tried)

yeah I know this whole thing is kinda silly and honestly random as shit but this bunny art has a special place in my heart despite me only really doing it for a year

hell it's gotten to the point where I have a small list of rules I stick by whenever creating something bunny related and I have fucking bases I use whenever I'm drawing pixel art of a character as a bunny for the first time

why yes I am taking pastel bunnies far too seriously

I think the funniest thing is (and I think I've stated this before in the tags of a bunny drawing but I'll say it again) bunnies aren't even my favorite animal

that honor goes to frogs (bunnies are in the top five tho)

so this whole thing makes LESS sense if you take that into consideration but idk it's just fun

and at the end of the day that's really all I had to say but I wanted an excuse to talk about the history of this bunny bs lol

thanks for coming to another one of my TED talks and remember I swear I'm not crazy

#long ass post #bun stuff #this too WAY longer then expected #I started this at 9 and it's now 1 wtf #debated a little on whether or not to actually post this but fuck it you know?

[endlessthxxghts]

Use Me

No outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈1.2k

Summary: You tell Joel he can use you in an unconventional way. Will he take you up on your offer?

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader besides clothing. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Somnophilia. P in V sex (unprotected). Creampie. Finger fucking. Sweet aftercare. A moment of insecure Joel, but you comfort him.

A/N: Literally no motive behind this drabble besides the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about Joel (more than normal LOLL) in the past 24 hours. So, enjoy my delulus. Also… this Joel is one with no outbreak…but for this particular scenario, I’m picturing him physically as post-outbreak…do with that what you will.🥴🥴🥴

MASTERLIST

Joel’s coffee nearly spilled through his nose with how off guard your question caught him. “You want me to what?”

“Well, I’m not saying like every night or something, I’m just saying. If you ever wake up in the middle of the night, hard and wanting, you can…” your gaze breaks from his. “You can use me.” 

Joel usually doesn’t have middle-of-the-night erections that wake him up and force him to take care of the issue immediately. However, with your suggestion being a lingering thought in the back of his mind all damn day, he finds himself, in the middle of the night, hard and wanting. 

Your usual sleep attire is a tiny shirt with no bottoms below, and tonight, lying on your stomach with your ass to the air, you’re looking particularly tempting with the way his cock pulses when his eyes meet your glistening cunt. 

“Always so fuckin’ ready for me, ain’t ya?” He groans to himself, debating whether or not he’s actually going to take you up on your offer. 

But just like the unintentional ironic little fox you are, you roll your hips and let out a little whimper as you go, your pussy on full display to him, even wetter than mere moments ago. 

He sits up on his haunches, walking on his knees to settle himself behind you. He brings his fingers to your slick entrance, running along the entire seam and to your clit. He circles it a few times. Your hips twitch in response, a breathy sigh leaving your throat. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. He removes his now wet fingers from your entrance to rub it all over his cock, pumping himself a few times before he scoots slightly closer to you and lines himself up. 

He runs the head of his cock through your slick this time. His tip catches on your clit and pulls another moan out of you. You’re stirring now, but you’re not completely awake yet. 

Unable to tease himself much longer, he grabs onto your hips and sinks into you in one sweet thrust, your warm, tight pussy pulling him faster to the finish line than he was anticipating. 

You let out a moaning gasp — you’re definitely awake now — followed by an already blissed out call of his name. “Oh, fuck,” you cry, your hands curling its grip into the bedsheets below. 

“Shit,” Joel moans, his hips fucking into you harder now but maintaining a steady pace. “This what you wanted, girl?” He grunts. “Wanted me to fuck this sweet pussy whenever I fuckin’ wanted?” 

“Ohmygod,” you rush out in a near yell, “yes, Joel, yes! Just like that, baby, fuck-”

“So fuckin’ good to me, sweet girl, ohhh fuck-” he moans, his hips faltering in its rhythm. His hand moves around your waist and to the front of you, the pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it — just the right amount of pressure to get you to your finish line before him. 

You’re a babbling mess at this point — his name mixed with expletives the only vocabulary he’s reduced you down to. “‘M close,” you’re able to utter out. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He bends his body over you, his lips near your ear as he damn near snarls, “Soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, let me feel you.” 

His ministrations on your clit don’t stop, but the desperations of his thrusts increase, harder with every pump. He bites down on your shoulder, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t finish before you, and the radiating pain and pleasure from the pressure sends you roaring to your climax — the room filled with nothing but the wet squelches of your slick and your high-pitched moans, loud enough to wake the neighbors. 

Your sweet sounds sends him into a frenzy, his eyes rolling back at the way he’s literally slipping in and out of you now. “Gonna cum, baby?” you whine at him, nearing overstimulation but truly not wanting him to stop. 

“So fuckin’ close, baby,” he tells you, he’s back up on his haunches, both his hands back at your waist, chasing his own impending orgasm. 

You muster up some strength and lift your ass up to meet his hips, your back arching like a cat in the sun. You give him some pushback, meeting his every thrust as you make it a point to squeeze him each time. 

“Atta girl, fuck-” he takes a shuddered breath, “‘M gonna fuckin’ cum, where do ya want it?” he grits out. 

“Inside!” you blurt out, all your inhibitions and logical thinking gone from your brain as he fucks you into oblivion. “Inside me, please, baby, please, love feeling you inside of me- love having you drip out of me just for you to stuff it back inside-” you’re cut off mid ramble with a gasp, you feel his cock pulse as his warm release paints your walls, a rugged groan from Joel filling the air. 

“Goddamn, baby,” Joel utters as he catches his breath, slipping out of you, but not going anywhere just yet. He watches your filled cunt, and in moments, his hot cum is leaking from your hole — his cock tries to jump at the sight of it. He takes his fingers, scoops up the residue, and pushes it back into your hole, fucking you slow with his fingers for a moment as your breathing picks back up, moans threatening to escape as your hips squirm against him. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he tells you. He helps flip you on your back, leaning down to kiss your tummy as he slips away for a few moments and returns with a warm cloth to clean you up. 

He’s gentle with it, thoroughly wiping the outer areas while patting the more sensitive areas clean. You still whimper at the feeling, more so because having him touch you down there sends butterflies fluttering all throughout your body. “I got ya, darlin’,” he soothes. 

“I know you do, baby,” you say as you reach your hand out for his face. He tosses the cloth into the hamper in the corner of the room as he leans into your hold. You pull him in for a sweet, lengthy kiss, your tongues tangling as Joel finds himself wrapped around you once more tonight. 

You’re dozing off again when you feel Joel’s voice vibrate your chest. “Say that again, baby?” you mumble sleepily. 

“Was this…was this okay?” he asks softly, sleep filling his voice but too much concern lacing it to allow himself to submit to his fatigue. 

You grab his face again, lifting your head to meet his lips. 

“It was perfect,” you smile at him. “Now go to bed, so I can wake you up in the morning.”

He gives you a smirk that heats your cheeks. “Goodnight, darlin’,” he mutters as his head rests on your chest again, dozing immediately.

My current brain capacity is telling me that I want to write, but I can't deal with really big storylines right now.. so. A bunch of stories on the shorter side it is - at least, for the time being🥰 I love you all, and thank you for the endless support. Also !!! Gif above is courtesy of @/nicolethered

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether! Xo

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

#pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #endless thoughts fics #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller x female reader #drabble #smut #smut fic

[thef1diary]

Do Not Disturb | M. Verstappen

Summary: Max hates your ex, so when the right opportunity falls right into his hands, he takes it. Even when he's fucking you in the hotel room.

Warnings: 18+, cocky Max, reader is a tease, champagne shenanigans, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradative terms (barely but just a warning in case)

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: max & f!reader

Note: another repost because why not

Max loves winning. Especially winning the first place trophy in his racing career-from karting when he was younger to the F1 races. Although, for a while now, he's been happier. Many people think it's because of his two back to back world championships. While that may be true, he has another reason.

You.

You have known Max for a long time, both growing up together because your parents were good friends. From the moment he began his racing career in the smaller karts, you've been there. From hating the sound of the karts passing by, to loving the sound of F1 cars passing by. You didn't really have a choice because Max always wanted you by his side.

The point is, you've known Max long enough to know everything about him. Even his fans know you as his number one supporter. But what no one knew, was that your friendship has changed overtime. You and Max got to experience things that one normally would in a relationship, without actually being in a relationship.

You two were friends with benefits. It began a few years ago, drunken celebrations led to lingering touches which eventually ended in crossing the line of a regular friendship. There were no regrets but you weren't romantically attracted to him and neither was he, so the decision was made to remain as just friends.

Today, Max had won another race. He stood on the top step of the podium, listening to his country's national anthem with a smile on his face. While he was glad to add another trophy to his collection, he was thinking of all the ways he would be celebrating with you later on. Preferably with you underneath him on his bed, naked.

While you saw him smile towards his team, his expression towards you was slightly different. A difference that no one else knew the meaning behind. See the thing is, you might've told him something when he embraced you after getting out of his car. "A little fact, I'm not wearing anything under this dress"

You knew that no one would hear you because they were too busy cheering for the man in front of you. Max was pulled away by others but his gaze was still on you. Now, as he was standing on the podium, he watched you with a look that only meant mischief.

After the podium celebrations ended, Max was taken away for some post-race interviews where the same questions is asked in different ways.

Knowing that it'll take him a while, you returned to your hotel room. Usually you would stay and converse with some other drivers while he was busy, but today was a different story.

The comment you made wasn't a lie, you truly weren't wearing any undergarments under your dress. It was definitely risky, but you knew that it would spark a reaction out of Max. And you were glad that it did.

You debated whether or not you should send Max a text, something for his eyes only, but decided otherwise because you didn't want anyone else to see. Plus, he should be waiting for his reward. Perhaps another time.

After freshening up, you sat on the couch in the main room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, waiting for Max to arrive. However, your eyes widened in surprise when you saw a notification from your ex.

It was a text asking if you could meet him. You were debating on either being nice and meeting him once more for closure, or if you should ignore him. The thing was, you didn't like ending on rough terms. You would hate to be in his spot right now, but considering the things your ex has done, you didn't know what to do.

Before you could reply, the door to your hotel room opened and Max walked in. He was holding his trophy in one hand, and the champagne bottle that he got on the podium in the other hand.

Smiling, you got up and embraced him, "congratulations, champion"

"Don't act like you don't know what you did." He retorted, not hugging you back. "Oh I know exactly what I did." You stepped away from him and your hands travelled down his chest, teasing the edge of the hem of his shirt.

"Got me so hard on the fucking podium. Who knows what people will think?" He let your hands roam around his body, close to where he needs it the most.

"Who cares what they think? You looked so hot covered in champagne"

"Yeah? Let me return the favour" Max tilted his head towards the champagne bottle in his hand.

He placed his trophy on the table to free his hand that was itching to touch you. Wrapping that free hand around your waist, he pulled you against him. Then, tilting your head back, he instructed "open"

You obliged, opening your mouth and waiting for the cool champagne to fill your mouth. He didn't stop even after your mouth was full, letting the excess drip down your chin.

"Swallow" he said, watching closely as you listened. Then, he kissed you, savouring the familiar taste of victory that he worked hard for.

Your hands were still roaming around his body, lifting up his shirt by the hem. Parting away just for a moment to remove his shirt, then his lips were back on yours.

His lips travelled lower to your neck, lapping up the champagne that dripped earlier. His two favourite things combined, your taste mixed with the champagne. His mind was buzzing with all the things he wanted to do to you.

Pouring some more champagne on your throat, his tongue darted out to drink it. "Max" you groaned, liking the sensations but also wanting more.

"Gonna cover you in champagne, baby" he whispered as he continued his ministrations. You made a sound, agreeing to his idea. "Make you all sticky with alcohol then with my cum" he continued, and you really liked that suggestion, "fuck yes please"

"Yeah, you want that?" He asked, bringing his face back up and placing a kiss to your lips. You nodded, "yes please, Max" you replied, breathlessly.

Bringing his beloved champagne bottle up again, he smirked as he slowly poured it down the front of your dress. He watched as the cloth stuck to your body, and he also noticed how your nipples hardened underneath. It was due to the mix of pleasure radiating through your body along with the cold champagne.

"You really aren't wearing anything underneath huh?" He believed you when you said it, but seeing it was another thing. "Why bother when I know you are going to remove it after you win" you found your words and explained your reasoning behind the lack of clothes.

"Fuck baby, you knew I was going to win today?" Max loved how much you believed in him. "Not a single doubt otherwise." This time you claimed his lips with yours.

You supported him like no other. And he was so grateful for that; for you.

Pressing up against his chest, he could feel how soaked your dress was and decided to remove it. Blindly finding the zipper on the back, he tugged it down.

Before he could explore your body using his hands, you pressed one more kiss on his lips before sitting down on your knees. Both of you were now quite impatient, and it was evident in your actions.

Quickly removing his belt and tugging the last layer of clothes down to his knees, you paused for a moment. You placed your hands on his thighs and made eye contact with him, noting how he was already looking down at you. "Want a reward for winning?" You asked rhetorically.

Max nodded, "yes, give me your filthy mouth that loves my cock"

You wrapped your lips around his tip, not taking him any further. You can tell that Max is restraining himself from thrusting in your mouth, and for a brief moment you go deeper but then remove your mouth. "You want my mouth?" You asked, teasingly.

"Fuck yes. I want you" he replies, groaning. You almost break out in a smile but contain yourself, "ask nicely."

Max's glare tells you that if it were up to him, you'd be on all fours with your face pressed in the mattress. But, he also knows that even though you're the one that's on your knees, you have all the power right now.

"Please, I need you so bad. Make me feel good please?" He gave in, listening to you. And man, he definitely felt like a winner when you took almost all of him in one movement.

His hand was resting on your head, tempted to force you to take more. You loved the sounds he was making above you when you would brush against a good spot. You noticed every little movement of his; how his breath would hitch when you moaned, how his abs would tense as if he's trying to hold himself back, and the way he would wrap your hair around his fingers tightly.

Right now, all your focus was on pleasuring Max. After all, he is the winner. And you'd be down on your knees to do this every time he wins, because you love it as much as he does.

Sucking greedily on his cock along with his dirty words made a shiver run down your spine. You two were in for a long night, willing to spend a couple hours in each other's presence.

Max was looking at the way his cock made a bulge in your mouth as you tried taking all of him. You knew you couldn't, but you tested the limits. But, his eyes darted around until he could find your phone since he heard it ringing. It was on the couch that you were sitting on earlier, and the screen was facing up which meant he could see the caller id.

He wanted to make a comment on it especially after knowing that it was your ex calling, but you didn't give him a chance to do so. To bring his focus back to you, you put your hand on top on his that was resting on your head, and urged him to force you deeper.

You both simultaneously let out sounds which drowned out the sound of the incessant ringing, making Max forget about it all.

You knew he was close so you pulled off after deeply sucking him one last time, then replaced your mouth with your hand. "Gonna cover me in your cum?" You asked, looking at him as he figured why you pulled away.

The height of his pleasure almost made him close his eyes but he chose to force them open so he could see how his cum coated your chest.

Once you knew he finished, you removed your hand from him and dragged it through the cum on your chest, coating your finger. Then, knowing that he was watching every move, you cleaned off your finger using your tongue.

"You look so pretty baby" he commented as he helped you stand up.

The thing about Max, is that he would be ready for another round in no time. His stamina and refractory period was unbeatable. "You weren't really nice to me so I don't know if I should fuck you." He told you, holding back a smirk when you pouted. "I know you want to, baby. My pussy's so wet because of you."

"Is it now? Waiting for me to fuck you dumb? That's what you want right?" Max asked as his hand travelled down your body, just barely touching you like you wanted him to.

"Yes, fuck me dumb" you pleaded and he positioned you on the couch to lay on your back. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer.

There was barely any resistance when he slid in you due to your wetness that had dropped down to your thighs. "So perfect for me" Max groaned as he felt you clenching around him, causing his hips to stutter since he already orgasmed once.

Max's hands were on your thighs but he moved one to drag up towards the pool of his cum still resting on your body. He would definitely clean you up later, but right now, seeing you like this did something to him. And he liked it.

His two coated fingers tapped your lips and you opened your mouth, taking them in. Once you sucked them clean, he removed his fingers which was now coated with your saliva, and teased your clit.

You arched your back, feeling every single thrust deep, especially after he easily found the perfect spot and kept a relentless pace. Your hands were balling up in fists, tightly gripping on the sheets.

You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn't hear your phone ringing again, until Max picked it up. "She's too busy being fucked by me" is what you first heard him say to the person on the other side. It didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

For some reason, that edged you even closer to your release. "Here, listen to her because you'll never get the chance again." Max told your ex, and held the phone closer to you so the man on the other end could hear your moans only meant for Max.

At the same time, his thrusts became stronger and faster. With that plus his fingers circling your clit caused you to moan Max's name out loud as you came undone.

Your ex heard it all. Max slowed his thrusts but didn't completely stop to prolong your orgasm, and held the phone to his ear again. "Don't you dare think about calling her again." He instructed before hanging up and tossing the phone to the side.

You were all fucked out, just like he wanted, looking up at him with a small smile. Seeing Max's smug expression, you forgot about any embarrassment regarding the fact that your ex heard you moan Max's name.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1blr #formula 1 #thef1diary fic

[ghouljams]

Are you fucking kidding me???? Like??? Be real??? I have been asking you to write a fucking executioner!Konig for months and all I get is diddly. But some rando asks for a medieval!cod and you headcanon for everyone BUT Konig????? Don’t ever talk to me again. I hope you date goes bad. Karma is a bitch. I hate you.

- 👹

Where's my call-out post bitch? I'm literally just called you about writing fic for you. What happened to not reading your older siblings writing? Huh???

I'm spraying König with the hose right now, are you happy? Die.

König is a hunter. He likes the quiet of it, the solitude. It's easier to think with a bow or a knife in his hands. And it's simple. Hunting doesn't mean he has to talk to anyone, he sells to the butcher, keeps what he wants. The most talking he has to do is when he goes out to buy bread. Past that there's no reason to say anything to anyone.

Not that anyone wants to talk to him anyway. The deadly hunter, the silent giant, he is feared and respected in equal measure. He lives on the edge of town where he won't get visitors and its enough to make him call himself happy. Whether or not he actually is, is up for debate.

He's hunting when he first sees you. You're by the river, doing your washing against the well worn stones. The quiet birdsong and rustle of leaves accompany your humming. He watches you silently from his hide. The sun hits your cheeks through the leaves of the forest, and you're so beautiful he thinks you might be a nymph or some other spirit of the woods. He doesn't catch anything that day, too preoccupied with his silent vigil.

The next time he sees you is further down the river. He'd been careful to avoid the shallow end of it, not wanting to disturb you or his hunt. It's a wasted thought. You've waded out into the basin of the river, your clothes folded neatly on the shore as you slough off the summer heat and sweat. He watches you longer than he should, longer than is proper. He thinks of you later when he's alone.

He meets you a third time buying bread from the only decent baker in town. He's dropping coin into their waiting hand when you come out from the kitchen with fresh loaves. His mouth goes dry as you catch his eye and smile.

"You're in that house on the edge of the forest, right?" You ask, sweet as can be. He nods. "It must be a long walk here," another nod, "and lonely?" He hesitates, you smile a little wider, "maybe I can make a delivery sometime."

"That would be kind of you," he isn't sure quite how to respond, too worried he'll give himself away if he says too much, or too little.

"Yeah? I figure if you see me more often you won't have to spy on me in the woods." Your smile doesn't falter, König leaves quickly.

#Spec i hope your next bowl sends you to the shadow realm #ghoul speaks #sister tag #👹 anon #the real answer is that König is who i spun off into original fiction #hes a king with a terrible curse and a one sided crush on his maid #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig x oc #könig call of duty #medieval au

[cyberbunny07]

Preening

An Adam x Reader Ramble

A.N. - Second post! I'm trying something new to see if this could help with a few things, so you can be sure I will be spitting these out a lot as I start. Again, I'm still getting the hang of all of this, so any feedback is welcome. Enjoy the fic, lovelies.

Okay, so, this is what I’m seeing Adam is an exorcist, so I don’t think that his wings are that sensitive At least his flight feathers But if you are somehow able to get close to him I’m doing a drabble on that next And he allows you to help preen him Gently go for the fluffier feathers I swear, he’s out in less than a minute Now, if he isn’t expecting it and you touch anywhere near the base of his wings, he will jump like a cricket Plays it off with, “You just scared me, bitch. I’m not fucking sensitive like any of you normal winners. I’m the fucking man” yada yada yada Speaking of being the first man- He has the prettiest wings He knows it too, the asshole That’s why he always has his wings by his sides It’s actually because he never learned how to fold them comfortably and he’s too prideful to ask

Now for the preening part You two would be in his living room the bedroom would be too intimate with him sitting on the floor with you on the bed He was probably struggling to get his inner wings for a while before asking, so he’s mumbling how you’re ‘fucking lucky to touch his wings’ He’s grateful But if you tell anyone, he will send you to hell himself Anyways, after a while, he would relax and find it actually soothing So then, of course, he starts rambling and shit-talking about anything and anyone Especially ‘Lucifer’s prick daughter’ He’d be fine when you do little bits and pieces on the back of his outer wings He probably doesn’t even notice the feeling But the second you go to his softer plumage he shuts up “And then that bitch actually thought that-” … “Did I pull someth-” “No, I just- Shut up, fuck off.” Poetry Continues talking, but starts slowing down Because holy shit this is so nice He’s not used to domestic things Never let himself get close after Lilith and Eve But this is making him think about debating whether or not he should try again This man is already letting you close if you’re touching his wings, but he’s still in denial Poor baby He begrudgingly and ‘smoothly’ asks for you to help him next time “Hey, if you aren’t busy, my wings are fucked up from the extermination. Stupid fucking shit had wind powers-” “Oh, are you hurt?” “What? Of course not. I just- Since you like helping so much, I just figured you’d…” Little man can’t ask for help, but you get it

#adam x reader #adam x yn #ramble #adam headcanons #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam

[nicksnosering]

I Hate Myself For Loving You

~Toxic Chris Sturniolo One Shot~

TW: toxic! chris, marijuana, no aftercare, chris is a dick

This is my first story I've ever posted on tumblr, so pls be nice!

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me: hey, you coming over tonight?

read at 9:06pm

It’s been 4 hours since I sent that text, and almost 2 since it was marked as ‘read’. I bit my lip, sighing as the internal debate on whether I should double text or not was practically eating me alive. Grabbing my phone that I’d been trying too hard to ignore off of my nightstand, I swiped it open and decided fuck it.

me: christopher. stop ignoring me.

The response came through almost immediately.

DO NOT ANSWER: why?

I rolled my eyes, pushing aside my pride as I sent my next message.

me: just come over.

DO NOT ANSWER: i’m busy.

me: doing what, fucking ur other bitches?

DO NOT ANSWER: yeppppp

me: ok 👌🏼

I groan out of frustration, throwing my phone back onto my nightstand. God, he’s infuriating. We’ve been fucking for close to five months now, and every time it seemed like there was any sort of breakthrough, like maybe he actually liked me or cared about me, we went right back to where we started. I press play on the remote, but my mind is spinning far too fast for me to actually focus on the TV.

I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. If he’s going to treat me like an option instead of a priority, he can go fuck himself. I grab my phone off of my nightstand again, hovering over his name before shaking my head and pressing ‘Block Contact’. Just like that, five months down the drain. 

I ignore the aching feeling in my chest, like I’m about to be ripped open from the inside, snuggling further in my sheets and letting the warmth envelop me before slowly drifting off to sleep.

The peacefulness of being unconscious didn’t last long. 

I woke to the sound of my front door being pounded on so hard, the hinges sounded like they were about to fly off. I turn and check the time on my phone blearily, the screen reading 2:13am. I pull the covers off and pad over to the door, rubbing my eye as I unlock it. The door immediately opens, and I look up to find Chris staring at me, eyes slightly red and hair messy. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are narrowed, briefly looking me up and down before brushing past me and walking straight into my living room.

“Get out, Chris,” I say tiredly, vaguely gesturing toward the open door I’m still holding.

“Nah, I’m good,” he responds, falling back onto my couch and kicking his feet up, resting them on the coffee table. His hands go into his hoodie pocket, and I watch as he pulls out a preroll and a lighter.

“I’m serious. Get the fuck out,” I say, slightly more aggressively, ignoring the way my heart squeezes in my chest. I watch as he flicks the lighter and the end of the preroll turns a bright red. He takes a hit, inhaling deeply and looking back up at me.

“So am I,” he breathes out. “You’re not going to block me and expect me not to fucking show up expecting an explanation.”

I shut the door and sit down next to him on the couch, turning to him. His hand immediately goes to wrap around my waist, and I hate myself for the way I want to curl into it. Even with me being as mad as I am, he still looks insanely hot, his sleepy eyes tracing over my figure in my pajamas. He knows I love when he wears that stupid fucking black hoodie. 

I push his hand off of me, scooting a little further away and wrapping my arms around myself.

“You’re such a dick, you know that?” I ask. 

He smirks, throwing an arm around the back of the couch before shrugging. “You love it.”

“No, I fucking don’t,” I growl, watching as he takes another hit. “And open a window or something, Jesus.” He knows how much I hate it when he smokes in my apartment. The smell lingers for a few days and all it does is remind me of him, of how much I can’t stand myself when he leaves after letting him in, again and again.

He leans forward, placing his hand on my thigh and rubbing it softly before blowing the smoke directly in my face. I stare at him, unimpressed, and he chuckles. “Come on, ma. Don’t be upset. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Do you really expect me to forgive you for being an asshole just because you’re here now? At 2 in the fucking morning?” I glare at him. Goosebumps emerge on my thigh as his fingers continue to rub small circles into it, and I shiver.

His lips curl upwards as he takes another hit. “Your body sure seems to,” he says cockily, putting out the preroll and wrapping his arms around my waist. My body does betray me this time, and I lean into him as his fingers trace my hipbone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight,” he whispers lowly.

“Yeah, I’m sure I was the first thing on your mind when you were balls deep in another girl,” I huff. 

He laughs. “Okay, she was first. But you were second.” His hand comes up to my jaw, cupping it softly and forcing me to look at him. “Stop acting like you hate me. We both know how this night is going to end,” he says, leaning in and capturing my lips with his own.

I whine as I try to pull back, but his hand on my jaw stays firm, holding my mouth against his. His other hand slowly slides up my thigh until he finds the waistband of my thong, and his finger hooks underneath before letting it go, resulting in it slapping harshly against my hip. I yelp and pull back, and he chuckles as his fingers rub the red mark softly.

“God, you know how hard it gets me when your cheeks are all flushed like that,” he mumbles, dipping his head down and beginning to suck on the skin directly above my collar bone. I let a small moan slip, and grit my teeth at how little willpower I have when it comes to this man.

“Chris, stop,” I whisper, but it sounds too breathy for my own liking. He pulls off of my neck, admiring the mark his teeth made briefly, before looking back into my eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” he says, grabbing my hips to pull me onto his waist. My thighs rest on either side of his and he grinds up into me, his hard erection rubbing against me through my paper-thin pajama shorts. I groan, letting my head fall onto his shoulder, and his fingers dig in, grinding me against him roughly. A small whimper leaves my mouth, slicing through the silence in the room. I wince, stilling my hips, trying to regain the last semblance of composure I have. 

My heart squeezes in my chest as I look down at him beneath me, my brain flooding with every toxic memory of us together. The time he kicked me out of his car, leaving me stranded on the side of the road after an intense screaming match. The time he called me a fucking bitch in front of his friends, laughing in my face. The time he swore he didn’t go and fuck that girl I hated in my biology class, promising he wouldn’t do that to me. 

That one hurt the most, considering I had to find out from my own sister 2 grades below me. 

But with the bad came the good, such as the mind-blowing orgasms and the way his mouth fit against mine and the way his fingers fit into me just right, crooking and teasing and pumping exactly the way he knew I liked. Like he knew my body better than I did. 

With my jaw set, I place my hands on his chest, steam practically blowing from my nostrils. I hated myself for this, and he knew that, and I knew he knew that. Any attempts I have at stopping this now are futile. My body needs him. 

“Fuck you,” I breathe heavily, rolling my hips against his. My mouth trails to his jaw, his neck, down his chest, and a low moan escapes him as his fingers find their way to the waistband of my shorts, slipping down the front and past my thong to gently rub at my entrance, before plunging two fingers deep inside without any warning. My hips jolt forward, meeting his fingers where they connect to his hand before he starts curling them inward, and… my last shred of self control has completely dissipated. 

I feel his chest rumble with laughter as a few small moans leave my lips. “If you insist,” he whispers, thumb finding my clit and giving it a few lazy circles. My head falls forward onto his chest and I can’t stop myself from biting into his shoulder to quiet my moans.

His other hand tangles its way into my hair, yanking my head back and forcing our gazes to lock.

“You can cum if you want to, but you know I’m getting inside that cunt one way or another.” His thumb speeds up across my clit and I can feel my body shaking, getting close to plummeting over the edge.

My eyes flutter shut, and I’m quickly rewarded with another sharp tug on my scalp. “Look at me,” he commands. And when my eyes meet his, I feel the waves washing over me, convulsing as he speeds up his fingers, mercilessly working me through my orgasm. 

I slump forward into his chest, and he pulls his fingers out quickly, leaving me empty in more ways than one. He wraps his arms around my waist and stands up, carrying me to my bedroom and tossing me onto the bed carelessly.

He pulls his hoodie over his head, tossing it into the corner of my room, and strides back over to the edge of the bed. His stature towers over me, and my mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts, not a single one of them protesting this any longer.

I’ve accepted what this is.

More than that, I’ve given up.

I’m irrevocably in love with him, regardless of his feelings toward me, and I can’t bring myself to care about the hurt it’ll bring. The hurt it has brought. All I can think about in this moment is getting him inside of me, and I try to disregard the niggling feelings in the back of my mind about how I’ll feel after.

There is no after. There’s only now.

My hand shakes slightly with anticipation as I reach up, tugging at his belt buckle and popping it open. I slide his pants and boxers down in one motion, and my legs spread on their own accord as he leans over me, lining himself up.

“I love you.”

It’s nothing I haven’t said before, but each time I do, I hope for a different outcome. Something other than the eye roll he always gives me, huffing and silencing me with a palm over my lips. Each time, I hope the sting is lessened, that he cracks and shows me the soft side of him I know has to be in there.

And if that’s the definition of insanity, then I should’ve been locked up months ago.

He scoffs, pushing inside of me to the hilt in one quick thrust. “I know,” he responds, hand coming up to wrap around my throat and prevent any further confessions from coming out. 

My moans are unstoppable as he pounds into me with brutal thrust after thrust, only caring about working towards his own orgasm. I thrust back against him, rolling my hips to meet his each time he’s fully inside, thinking that maybe… maybe if I’m good, maybe if I’m better than that other bitch he fucked tonight, he won’t run off like he always does.

Maybe he’ll want a round two. Maybe he’ll stick around for another joint. Maybe he’ll cuddle me after.

Maybe he’ll stay.

I push the thoughts aside, trying instead to focus on the intense amount of pleasure coursing through my veins and lighting up every nerve ending in my body. 

His chain rocks back and forth, slapping his chest in time with his thrusts, and I watch as his tongue darts out to lick away a stray bead of sweat trailing down his face.

His grunts are filling the room, mixing with my own to create a beautiful melody I want to record and play on a loop forever. His curls are falling in his eyes and his stomach tenses with each snap forward of his hips, and he consumes all of my senses as my body shakes and writhes beneath him, pleading for him to slow down and begging for more in the same breath.

I whine when he pulls out to just the tip, and his eyes stay glued to mine as he slams back in, causing me to let out a loud gasp. A smirk settles on his lips as he repeats his actions, and I feel my body coming completely undone, succumbing wholly to him.

“Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” he muses, panting heavily. He releases his hold on my throat, gripping the back of my calf instead and wrapping it around his waist, moaning at the pleasure the new angle brings. “So needy and wet every time. Like you were made for me.”

And I was. There is no one else.

It’s just him.

I can feel his thrusts getting sloppier, and I watch his eyelids droop as he continues his conquest over me, every muscle tensing before I feel his release inside of me, hot and heavy, marking me as his. Claiming me.

He groans loudly as he works his way through it, not sparing a single drop. I wrap my other leg around him and pull him as close as I can, not wanting to to let him go and be forced to accept it’s over.

When he’s finished, he drops down onto me for a moment, and I take my opportunity to brush my fingers through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. We lay like that for a while, but it’s far too short for my liking when he peels himself away and stands up.

My eyes follow as he goes over to where he threw his hoodie, pulling it back over his head before grabbing his boxers and doing the same.

All I can do is watch helplessly, begging with my eyes for him to stay. To get back into bed and hold me, kiss my shoulder and whisper that it’s always been me too.

He chuckles as he buckles his belt, situating it on his hips before looking back at me. “That was probably one of our best ones yet.”

“Yeah,” I respond emptily. I sit up and wrap the blanket around myself, feeling far too exposed now, both physically and emotionally.

“Alright, ma. See you later,” he says, messing with his hair absentmindedly before deciding its okay, and I watch as he grips the handle of my bedroom door, swinging it open.

“Chris?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“Stay.”

He looks taken aback for a moment, but regains his composure quickly as he chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I’m good.”

And with that, he’s gone, and I feel my heart shatter a little bit more as I’m left alone, sticky and sweaty and naked, with nothing but the smell of weed lingering in my apartment to keep me company.

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PT 2

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #toxic chris #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturn #matthew sturnio

[astraltrickster]

Saw a post about gacha addiction earlier and I didn't want to Get Into It with the OP because I fundamentally don't disagree with them but it left me raging internally at the counterproductive approach.

Listen. Gacha addiction is real. It's fucked, the companies that pioneered the softcore gambling-lootbox-gacha model straight up bragged about how effective it was. If you have never spent money on gacha, ideally you really shouldn't start, because the only way to determine whether or not you'll get addicted to any specific thing is to fuck around and find out even if you know for a fact that in general you do or do not have an addictive personality. The most dangerous gamble to take is the first. If you DO decide to spend money anyway, you should have a comprehensive strategy in place to keep it from slowly consuming your entire budget. Also, even if you don't spend real money it can still become a problem, because it can also end up consuming all of your time - any game can do this, any hobby in general can become toxic in fact, but gacha games in particular have the FOMO factor of "I have to keep grinding so I can save enough for my blorbo's next banner". If you play gacha games - even on a free-to-play basis - you should be aware that you are taking a risk and you should be willing to admit to yourself if it's become a problem. If you find your gacha budget creeping upward despite your income not doing the same, or you find yourself regularly trying to grind out pull currency even when it's overall not fun anymore, you should take a hiatus from the game/s, and call a therapist or gambling addiction hotline if that proves to be difficult.

And if you have concerns about other people developing gacha addiction...shaming people or downplaying what they like about the games or characters helps literally no one; if anything it only sends them further into denial for your smug sense of superiority.

Thing is? Gacha games are games. Most successful ones, despite the obvious comparisons, are a lot more than just slot machines to fill out a gallery of blorbos to rotate on your screen instead of in your head. They tend to have genuinely compelling lore and characters and enjoyable gameplay - the gacha is not the game itself; it is a recruitment and power-up system in an actual game. This only becomes more true as the market becomes more competitive - like, FGO shows its age with its slow start; you can really tell it launched at a point where all one needed for success was to tie to an existing big fandom and give you a little new content with your faves, but even then the appeal was the lore and the characters far more than it ever was the summoning system, and it's kept up as time goes on, intensifying both the story and the strategy as it's come into a life of its own. Genshin Impact, at 2 years old, is as "real" of an action RPG as a Kingdom Hearts game, with intense strategy elements involved in team building. Arknights is a tower defense that I'd love to play were it not for my medical phobia because what I know of the setting and lore is some POWERFUL social commentary that is right up my alley.

I could list more examples, but it's not really the point. The point is that gacha games are real games, with real lore, and real characters. These games don't have playerbases composed exclusively of victims of predatory monetization unless you REALLY stretch the definition; in order for a game to be a good gacha game, first it does need to be a good game. It's easy to say "oh, they don't really care about the story or characters or gameplay, it's just an elaborate ad for the slot machine, it's just a cash grab" - but...even accepting that as true (which is debatable), so what? What's the difference between that and the latest big studio movie? The latest Netflix original series? The latest "conventional" "one-and-done" AAA game? Do you think the CEOs greenlit those out of nothing but the love of art and storytelling?

People are going to get attached to these stories and characters, and mocking them over it isn't ~taking a brave stand against predatory marketing strategies~, it's not ~waking people up to the fact that they've been duped~, it's just being a fucking asshole.

#media #gacha #serious tag

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

#hehehehehe enjoy #i love plug eren so much it hurts my head #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger series #eren jaeger fanfic #eren yeager series #attack on titan fic #aot fic #much ado about nothing #much ado uni #much ado universe

[liketrianglehead-butspaghetti]

i gotta talk about FourDogs

I really do. 'Cause I posted a lil' passive-aggressive hot take a few days ago, but this is Tumblr not TikTok. Here we can have our 60-second hot takes and eat our long essays too. Kipperlilly Copperkettle was introduced as a rival in episode 3, after which there were a number of posts criticizing The Bad Kids' response to her, labeling it disproportionately mean at best and bullying at worst. I think that's an unfair reading of that interaction and I'm gonna talk about why.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that it's parasocial as fuck over here and The Bad Kids are my personal best friends actually, so where necessary I'll do my best to separate the ((loyalist ride-or-die-bad-boys-for-lyfe emotional reactions)) from the actual points I'm trying to make.

((That being said, the fuck was FourDogs talking about? Y'know? Like what was she on about, for real?))

Here's what's true: over the course of their time at Aguefort, three adults directly related to The Bad Kids - Jawbone, Gorthalax, and Gilear - have been instated as faculty or staff. And if I'm a third-party, especially another student, then for sure. It's giving nepotism, it's giving cronyism, and I'm drinking my Haterade about it every morning. But favoritism is about treatment. It's about actions, rewards, benefits - and ma'am, if you're gonna levy a charge like that, I'm afraid you're gonna need receipts!

What actual benefits have The Bad Kids received from the school that is not available to other students? In freshman and sophomore year, The Bad Kids get detention like anybody else, they don't make it on the Bloodrush team, Gorgug in particular was always not doing great in Barbarian class, they take their midterms, they have to complete the big 60%-of-the-grade spring break project, etc. And now this year, Fig is getting punished for not going to class, Kristen is getting consequences specific to being a kid with ADHD who doesn't live at home anymore, Gorgug's still getting the literal opposite of favoritism from Porter, and Riz, Adaine, and Fabian are all getting the treatment from professors that is proportional for historically successful students in good academic standing.

((And someone else brought this up but, re:that 60%-of-the-grade project, miss ma'am, what were you doing in the Far Haven Woods?? In addition to saving the world again, The Bad Kids endured borderline psychological torture for their final grade, while the Buttcrushers got to step on bugs in the neutral zone??? But they're the privileged ones, no, for sure))

Whether or not saving the world is as big a deal in-universe as it would be in our real world is up for debate. Brennan said it was an outstanding feat in the scope of student adventuring at Aguefort to consistently complete Class B and C quests, but then, when TBK comes back from Hot Yorb Summer everyone acts like they went on a class trip to Six Flags. Either way, unearned success is the wiiiiiildest claim to lay at the feet of consistent world-savers.

Freshmen year it was the Helioic Fundamentalist Apocalypse and the Emperor of the Red Wastes. Sophomore year it was the Nightmare King and the Night Yorb. They've saved the whole school, they've saved specific students at the school. They My Little Pony-ed Ragh, one of the biggest actual bullies Aguefort had, and then Fabian killed toxic masculinity! Even if the favoritism was in the room with us, would it not be the natural result of all this hero shit??? Aguefort hasn't done The Bad Kids any favors he wouldn't do for the rest of the student body, but even if he had I'd get it because KRISTEN APPLEBEES SNUCK HIM INTO HEAVEN AND THEN BROUGHT HIS ASS BACK TO LIFE.

Again, maybe not remarkable in a world where Revivify is just a thing you can learn, but y'know! Shit!! Diamonds aren't free!!

Also FourDogs' whole tone of disdain for the "eccentricity" of Arthur Aguefort's administrative decisions truly boggles the mind, because we found out in freshmen year that he has some kind of mass Power Word over the government of Solace that allows the students of his school to do crimes, AND in sophomore year he has that auto-call-ex-machina that students can evoke when they're in danger overseas. His "eccentricity" is the reason the school can function at all, put some respect on man's name.

Now, let's get word-perfect.

That's the American Psychological Association.

And that's StopBullying.gov, which is managed by the Department of Health and Human Services.

Here's what's true. At moment 00:00 of their relationship, Kristen said something pretty freakin' mean to Kipperlilly for an audience of her friends with like, no provocation.

Kipperlily then revealed that she has based her entire campaign around addressing the perceived privilege that "some students" have under Arthur Aguefort's rules. And THEN, Jawbone revealed that Kipperlilly had been snooping around asking questions about Kristen's relationships with her god and trying to get general dirt on The Bad Kids. BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE, in the preview for episode 6, we get Murph's line of "Kipperlilly's team is trying to get us kicked out of school".

Does that excuse the thing Kristen said ((yes it was hilarious)), no. Not at all. She didn't know that stuff, Kipperlilly just failed a vibe check. In the moment though, that's all it was. The Bad Kids met someone they didn't like and perceived as a threat, and Kipperlilly had something mean said to her by people she already didn't like and already wants to see brought down. While she was not threatening them in that moment, Kipperlilly is a threat. She's not a victim, she is an equal with opposing goals. And now that Ruben has the song of the summer, The Buttcrushers are probably just as popular as The Bad Kids. There is no greater imbalance, they're just adversaries.

Ultimately, Kipperlilly's got them fucked up. But she's a kid. Kids are allowed to get shit fucked up and misdirect their anger at systemic unfairness. TBK are also kids and well within their rights to feel what they felt when Four Dogs walked up with self-righteous vibes and started yappin about academic privilege in what is already the most academically stressful year of their lives.

As the audience, we not only know all the shit TBK has gone through that Kipperlilly does not, we also are aware of how Brennan is introducing her in the story. As soon as he brings her into the scene, you know what's up. The voice he gives her, the tone, the actual things he's saying - if you watch everyone's face after the line about favoritism gets dropped it's the culmination of the whole interaction. Oh, she's our enemy, like our specific enemy and her team is coming for us, specifically.

So what do we gain from ignoring all that? From ignoring the JUICE of this rivalry and flattening it into "the bad kids were mean :/". I actually love Kipperlilly, the rivalry is giving and I love feeling big emotions and getting to use angry, feral, fandom language. FourDogs, can't wait to see you next week, and I can't wait to read the 40k word, FourDogsxKristen, enemies-to-lovers fics. And y'know, shout out to all the people who kin her because she found the rogue teacher, it's pretty goated, I won't lie.

But also. Bad Kids Supremacy. Buttcrushers, stay mad.

#d20 #dimension 20 #kipperlilly copperkettle #four dogs #fhjy spoilers #fhjy #in this essay i will #free my kids they did nothing wrong #i support bad kids rights #i support bad kids wrongs #fantasy high junior year

[king-of-men]

There's a certain class of public intellectual - the two examples I have in mind are Bryan Caplan and Freddie deBoer, who otherwise have very little in common - who is genuinely quite smart and articulate, and able to defend their positions against almost everyone they debate with (including other people smart and articulate enough to be serious public intellectuals), and who therefore come across as being Well Up There in the human tiers. And then, every so often, whether from hubris or just sheer bad luck - they'll go up against someone with Serious Brainpower and they will get absolutely fucking smashed. Bryan Caplan tried to critique Huemer's book and came out of it looking a lot like the coyote after his own steamroller has squashed him flat; FdB had the very bad luck to post about EA a few hours before the sage Alexander did, which perhaps made his post come to Scott's attention in a way it otherwise wouldn't, and a day later there was a SlateStarCodex post that took FdB's position apart entirely, thoroughly, and without visible effort.

It's like watching, say, the Romanians in WWII going up against late-war Russians: These armies are visibly roughly the same thing, they both have tanks and machine guns and a reasonably up-to-date officer corps, it's not like bolt-action rifles against spears and shields. (That would be a normie trying to argue with the likes of Caplan.) And nonetheless one of these armies is about to cease to exist as a serious military organisation.

And nonetheless both bloggers are multiple tiers removed from the average human! I will give Caplan the win against everyone he's ever debated except Huemer and Alexander; and of course most of those people are still people literate enough to actually come to his attention, far beyond any possible effort of a normie Reddit poster; and even Reddit posters (in politics discussions, that is) are (generally) at least capable of reading a few hundred words and posting some moderately grammatical sentences in tangentially-relevant response, putting them easily in the top 50% of humans.

I get kind of used to reading Scott Alexander (quite aside from anything else, he just posts a lot!) and that makes it easy to forget just how much of a mutant superman he really is. And then you watch fairly heavyweight writers like FdB get casually flattened, and you go "Oh, right... born under a red sun."

#this is a scott alexander fan blog #the craft and the community #the sage alexander #the rightful caliph

[brae-brae]

RODRICK HEFFLEY X READER (fluff)

"He did that shit to me too..."

So TW to people. this contains mentions of SA, SH, and underage drinking.

Sorry if this is shit. I don't really post on Tumblr and I don't really know how to do this, so I'm just gonna put this on here- ALSO HEATHER IS NICE IN THIS ONE!!!!! (kind of)

“A party? Oh, I don’t know…” I twirled my hair, something my mom said I do when nervous or deep in thought. Lily, my best friend, sighed on the other end. “Oh, come on! You haven’t been to a party in forever!” I gripped my hair at the thought of the last party I went to. “Yeah, you know why..” silence. After what felt like forever, she finally spoke. “Listen, I know last time wasn’t the best party experience ever..” I rolled my eyes. “Yea, being… well you know isn’t the best scenario… for anyone. Anywhere...” she breathed out. I rolled on my back looking at the ceiling. “Listen, you don’t have to go. I just thought you would want to get out of the house. You’ve been in there all summer!” I looked to my side, noticing my alarm clock. 9:17

After a little bit of debating, I finally responded. “Be at your place in 15.” her squeal was heard over the phone. “OKAY! LOVE YOU! I laughed at the response. “Love you too.”

______________________________________

I guess that’s how I got here. A house full of sweaty teens, completely intoxicated, dancing, whether on each other or with friends. Lily ran up to her boyfriend Ben, kissing him on the cheek, and engulfing him in a big hug. “Hey, Y/N, how have you been?” I shrugged my shoulders. “You know,” I put a finger gun in my mouth, before going back to my nonchalant self, “the usual.” he chuckled and put an arm around Lily. 

Lily looked behind me before looking back at me, smiling evilly. “Oh, heyyyyyyy Rodrick.” I quickly threw my head around to see Rodrick Heffley coming towards us with drinks in his hand. Handing me one smiling, before turning his attention to the other two. “Hey?” he said confused. I quickly drank the cup, hoping it was beer. I needed to calm my nerves. Thank god. Beer. 

We walked into the living room sitting on the couch. “So, it’s been a while,” Rodrick said smiling. I could feel my face heat up at his words. Looking down at my cup, I let out a nervous laugh. “Hehe, yea. Just been kinda cooped up lately. You know, listening to music and reading, boring shit.” I took a large drink from my cup, earning a laugh from him. “Yea, so how have you been?” he said putting his foot on his knee, putting an arm on the back of the couch. “Oh same old, same old. How about you? Heard y’all have been working on a new song?” he immediately perked up, his whole demeanor changing. 

He loved it when someone asked about his band or music. “Oh well actually-” he yamered on about his music and the song names they came up with so far. A lot of people find it annoying but I loved hearing him talk. Whether it’s about legos, the newest hyper fixation he was having, or whatever his mind could come across. I loved it. His voice brought me a sense of calm, which is surprising because he’s just as fast-talking as I am. I guess because I’ve known him for years, I kind of just got used to it, finding peace in it too. 

 After a long talk and about 4 cups later, I hopped off the couch, suddenly stumbling back. “I am,” I paused turning around to look at a giggling Lily, “Going to the kitchen.” I smiled and walked off, Lily saying something about me being fucked up. As I made my way to the kitchen, I bumped into someone. “Well, hello..” the dude smiled at me, “I’m Justin, and you are?” I smiled and got the last few drops out of my cup. “Y/N, I was just headed to the kitchen, care to join me?” I said with a smile. Eventually, we started to talk as we made our way to the kitchen. As he spoke, I couldn’t help but get bored by his presence. It was giving... toxic masculinity. I turned around to grab a pop, only to see Rodrick, in the dining room talking to Ben. 

I couldn’t help myself but stare.

The way he holds his cup, the way he moves his hands when he talks, the way he smiles, oh his smile. God, it was contagious. His smile followed by his laugh makes my face feel like a thousand suns, kinda makes my butt and outer thighs tingle, too. I caught myself looking at him for longer than I should have but I didn’t care. Justin’s voice slowly faded into the loud music. All my thoughts wandered to him. What was he laughing about? Did he like my outfit today? I wonder what he’s thinking about? Should I go talk to him?

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” I saw Justin’s hand waving in front of my face. My head whipped around to look at him. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” his arm dropped to his side, and the shit-eating grin that was on his face before was gone. Probably left a while ago. “I was just saying that this party is really fun and all, but would you wanna go somewhere… more private?” his hand came up to my arm and started to rub it. I looked down, honestly kinda uncomfortable. I looked up, trying to give him the best smile I could without seeming shocked. 

“Um, I  think I’d rather stay here..” I said pulling away from him. He quickly grabbed my shoulder when I tried to walk away, putting his hands on either side of me, blocking me from leaving. “What? Really? I sat here for 15 minutes talking while you just stared at who knows what. You could at least give me something in return.” his voice was dark and stern. It made my stomach churn in fear. He grabbed my hip, forcing me closer to him. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as his face got closer to mine. I could feel the color drain from my face. 

Shit.

No no no, I can’t move. Please god. I promised. I promised wouldn’t get into this situation again. Please god someone- “Hey! Y/N, right?” we both turned at the sound of a girl’s voice. Through my blurry vision, I could make out a blond girl wearing a pink tank top and low-rise jeans. She was really pretty. I nodded, finally. “Hey, so I need your help in the bathroom,” she looked at Justin, “Girl problems.” she smiled sweetly at him. She grabbed my hand leading me through the living room. Before we went behind the wall, I caught a glimpse of confused Rodrick.

 We made it upstairs to the bathroom, and when she closed the door, I immediately started to throw up. I didn’t know if it was the drinking or the fact I was scared shitless. She sat there rubbing my back, holding my hair. “Are you okay? God, I’m so sorry..” I looked up at her, smiling weakly. “God you’re pretty..” she giggled and sat on the bathtub. “Thank you, I get that a lot,” she said flicking her hair back. “I’m Heather by the way, Heather Hills,” she paused, sitting on the floor with me,

“Listen, I saw what Justin was doing, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch that asshole just feel you up, you know?” I nodded. I was shanking, no, trembling.

Then, I just started balling. Crying hunched over the toilet. thankful for the blaring music downstairs. “Hey, it’s okay. I know. He did that shit to me too. Normally, I would just laugh at a guy’s pathetic excuse to flirt with a hot girl and joke about it with my friends,” she laughed to herself, almost as if she were remembering her doing that. Then she stopped, looking at me in the eyes. “But I knew what he was planning, no fuck that, scheming. He did..” she looked at the door for a minute then continued after clearing her throat, “He did that to me, too. Back in freshmen year.” she looked at her hands in her lap, almost dazed. 

I sat up from the toilet and looked at her. I tried to find the right words, the best ones, to express myself without seeming like too much. But all I could say was, “Thank you.” she smiled at me, helping me up off the bathroom floor. We walked out of the bathroom, and I followed her back downstairs. As I turned off the last step, I bumped into someone. “Oh my shit, sorry..” I looked up at the idiot who had bumped into me, only to be met with dark brown eyes. My mouth instantly ran dry, however, that was the only dry thing on me… 

Just as he was about to speak, Heather interrupted. “Jesus Hefley, watch where you’re going..” she pulled me along with her to her friends. The rest of the night was kind of a blur. All I remember was dancing, laughing, and thinking about Rodrick. 

The next day, I woke up in my room, my head pounding. I look at my floor to see… 

“RODRICK??” he jumped up at the sound of my terrified voice. He kneeled on my bed. Grabbing my hands. “Hey, hey, you okay?” his eyes laced with concern. I shook my head and instantly regretted it. “Here, drink some water.” he handed me a water bottle, and I instantly began to chug it. Setting the empty bottle down on my nightstand, only for it to drop. 

Then it hit me. Like a fucking truck. “Um… this isn’t my room..” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, it is not. its mine." he paused, "What do you remember from last night?” he asked while sitting on, what I now know is, his bed. I thought, trying to remember. “Not really anything… wait, did we-” his hands shot up, shaking crazily. “NO NO NO! I wouldn’t ever think about that shit with you that fucked up!” I let out a relieved breath. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” he nodded. His eyes suddenly became very worried. “So last night, you were wasted, like I said before and so you threw up all over your shirt..” I looked down.

I wasn’t in my clothes… I was in a graphic teeshirt and some sweatpants, suddenly I realised.

___________________________

GETTING READY FOR THE PARTY

I walked over to my closet, going through my abundance of clothes. I grabbed my My Chemical Romance shirt and black leggings. As I started to get undressed, my arm stung as I pulled off my clothes. I looked down at my arm and saw the fresh marks I had left the previous night. I looked down at my shirt and thought to myself. “Shit, hmm.” I quickly switched out my shirt for a plain green hoodie. I looked at myself in the mirror and put on the best smile I could. “Well, ready as I’ll ever be…” I grabbed my bag and headed out of my room.

_______________________________

“How long?” my eyes shot up to meet his. i looked away. trying to find anything else to focus on. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my head on them, taking a deep and shaky breath. When I finally looked at him again, I felt the tears prick in my eyes. “Since Jason Dean’s party…” I mumbled, choking slightly, "about 8 months ago."

I couldn’t stop them. The tears just kept coming. Rodrick just sat there, staring at the wall. After what felt like years, he finally spoke. “Can I hug you?” I didn’t respond. I just wrapped my arms around him burring my face in his shirt. He wasted no time in putting his arms around me, but he didn’t squeeze too tight, almost afraid to hurt me.

Eventually, I pulled away, looking at his snot-covered shirt. “Oh, sorry. Kinda just got my nose jizz on your shirt,” I said with a strained laugh. He looked down laughing. “Nose jizz? Dude-” We both burst out laughing. My eyes still have some tears falling. The one thing about our friendship is no matter how serious, jokes will always be okay. Just lightens the mood.

After we both calmed down, he held my hand, causing my face to burn. “Okay, but seriously,” he cleared his throat, trying to suppress his laugh, “does anyone else know?” he said, trying to continue the conversation. I shook my head. “Not even Lily?” I looked up at him, shaking my head again. He looked down, trying to find his next words. “Was it because of the incident?” my hands became clammy, and I felt like puking. “Yeah...” I said meekly. He let out a sigh. “Listen, I want to help you. In any way I can. Okay? I care so much about you and I don’t want you doing this to yourself. I want you to talk to me, that’s what I’m here for…” he held my face with his other hand making me look at him. I nodded. 

“Who changed me?” his face burned. “Well technically you did, but okay so-” he thought for a second, “so after most of the people left, Lily said that you should stay here, so I brought you upstairs and you puked all over yourself. So I went to grab some of my clothes and handed them to you, and you kinda just started like, stripping? Hehe..” my face burned, “I went downstairs and when I came back up a few minutes later, you were passed out in my bed. Then when I saw, um those..” he tried to make eye contact with me but failed miserably. 

I was still blushing at the fact that he saw me getting undressed. I mean he’s seen me in a bra before, but now I have boobs and stuff, so that made it a little more awkward. Then the question that I was wondering came out of my mouth before I could think. “Why did you sleep on the floor?” his eyes finally met mine. “Oh, uh I didn’t think you would be comfortable with me sleeping next to you, plus you already freaked out when I was on the floor so…” he said rubbing the back of his neck. I again spoke without thinking, “I wouldn’t have minded.” instantly regretted what I said, slapping a hand over my mouth. “Really?” his eyes lit up, slightly squeezing my hand tighter. I looked away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see my red face. 

God this boy has me whipped. 

“I mean, my back hurts from sleeping on the floor, would it be okay if I laid down here?” he asked hesitantly. I rolled my eyes grinning. “It’s your bed, you can do whatever you want.” he chuckled and laid down.

I gently laid down facing him, hands resting under my face. I quickly looked at his lips and back at his eyes. We sat there in silence, just looking at each other. Wait is he leaning in, wait! Am I leaning in? Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, he paused, “Y/N?” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Can I kiss you?” I smiled and nodded. “Use your words..,” he smirked. 

“Yes..”

WE LOVE CONSENT!! CONSENT IS SEXYYYYYY UHHHHHH

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley fluff

[the-s1lly-corner]

ok so hear me out. what about father!masky hearing that Toby is dating daughter!reader.

A teensy bit of NSFW would be fine, like hearing that Toby stole his precious daughter's V-card. (+ and how Toby ended up taking it but that's just a + if you're feeling generous.)

(MASKY AND READERS RELATIONSHIP IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC AND FAMILY-LIKE!!!!)

Father!Masky reacting to child!readers partner being Toby!

Was really debating on whether or not I wanted to answer this since personally I'm a little iffy on writing romantic stuff with toby but I think. Since its not the center piece (?) Of this request I'll let it slide this time

With that said I will say, I'm not sure if my take on the masky/toby dynamic is accurate to most peoples takes since I havent really. Seen much current fan stuff, havent really interacted with the fandom outside of fanart n stuff since 2015 so UHUH!!

Quick warning first portion of this is the admin rambling about their hcs about masky and toby before getting into the actual reader portion; they havent had the chance to talk about their creepypasta hcs in a LONG time 😭😭

Not touching the virginity thing, though sorry anon

Okay the authors note was getting too long but more on how I view the toby and masky dynamic given how I write both characters in my hc/au!

Toby does still try to piss off masky, i think. Since hes just generally an ass and there isnt much else for him to do..

You see I'm still trying to figure out how I wanna write masky and hoodie, since I do wish to honor their roots from MH and mesh together the source with the creepypasta fandoms take.. still trying to hit a balance.. might save that for another post, though! But I do wish to incorporate tim and brian into this as their own thing in my hc I'm just not sure how... anyways summary of what I was gonna say, before I deleted it; masky and hoodie arent around 100% of the time, only really when they're needed or called for. Hoodie is around more, though

Toby, on the other hand is around as a proxy 100% of the time considering. You know he krilled his shitty dad and set his neighborhood on fire

Basically there aren't many opportunities for these two to interact but when he does toby is probably shoving masky, probably trying to snag his mask, ect ect basically doing anything to find a way to entertain and stimulate himself, and that just so happens to include fucking with his fellow proxies

Masky, at least in my writing, is fairly stoic... or at least he keeps his emotions hard to read and every now and then he can be a little unpredictable. Call it a byproduct of being mentally worn down by slenderman in order to work with him, or something

Holds little to no reaction to Toby's antics, actually the only time theres anything dished back to him is when he tries to make a grab for the mask

VERY protective of his mask

Okay moving onto the actual request; regardless of how you end up being his kid.. whether it be found family or biologically.. he would try to be the very best dad he can be.. bonus points if you're a proxy as well, I think you two would train together

Call it a family business/j

I could joke about masky krilling for you, but.... considering that these are creepypasta characters... I dont think it would be a joke

Only saves that for if someone physically harms you though

Dating wise I dont think he would care..

Until he finds out who

Really?

That asshole?

When you tell him it's very hard to decipher his reaction.. hes just

Still

And the mask isnt helping at all

Watches toby like a hawk. Like if this were genuinely any other person I think masky would do some basic sleuthing to see what kind of person your partner is before backing off... but given that he has a personal history of toby being a nuisance, he's more on the fence

Now do I think he would forbid you from seeing him?

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I mean yeah sure, toby makes his job harder.. but has he really done anything that warrants that? Does he even have the right, even as your father?

You know that meme from monsters uni. Where sully is glaring down at mike while they're walking

That's basically masky and toby after he finds out

Not many thoughts here, I think

#creepypasta x reader #masky x reader #masky x you #masky imagine #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby imagine #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine

[alwaysonthemend]

The Nightcap | JMK

Author’s Note: This is the first fic I’ve written since my BBC Sherlock era so please bear with me. I’m a little nervous posting my writing after so much time but I also really want to get back into it because it’s so much fun! This is unbeta’d so all mistakes are my own. 

Summary: After leaving a party early, you and Josh head back to your place for a nightcap and a movie. Little do either of you know, things are about to heat up between the two of you. 

Content Warnings: oral (f. receiving) hand jobs, p. in v. sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), swearing, minor sub Josh. 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3499

Preview: 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life.

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression.

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin, “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.”

“Cocky bastard.”

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

These parties always made you feel nervous. No matter how many of them you went to, you always felt slightly out of place and awkward. You barely know anyone here. You know the boys of course, having practically grown up alongside them, but it still felt too awkward to ask one of them to stay with you the whole time. You hadn’t even wanted to show up tonight, but Josh had seemed so disappointed when you said you might sit it out and so you’d relented and told him you’d at least come for a little while. Parties were his favorite after all.

The boys were abuzz with energy as you all made your way to the club downtown. They’d booked the whole place out and had invited practically all of their friends who lived nearby, along with a bunch of other people whom you had no idea who they even were. You’d made your rounds as you’d first arrived, saying hello to the few people you did know before making your way over to the bar to have a drink.

From your place at the bar, you could see just about everyone – it was far more packed than you had been expecting and definitely far louder than you were in the mood for. At this point, you were debating with yourself whether or not you should just get an Uber back to your house and call it a night. The day had been long, and this party wasn’t helping the headache mounting behind your eyes.

You rose from your seat, pulling out your phone to call an Uber when Josh slid up next to you, drink in hand.

“Hey y/n! What’s up?” His eyes were sparkling in the dim lighting of the club and his cheeks were pink from the excitement. He looked divine.

“Hey, Josh.” You smiled lightly, “I was just about to call an Uber actually. I’m a little tired and I just want to go to bed.”

His face fell slightly before his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you calling an Uber? Your place isn’t far, and I could drive you. An Uber would just be a waste of money.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer but I don’t mind paying for an Uber.” You gestured to the party going on around you. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to take you away from all this. You love parties!”

He gave you a toothy grin. He was wearing a low-cut V-neck shirt, and you could see the sweat on his chest glisten under the blue light of the club. He looked ethereal.

“Well yeah, I do. But I also would love to drive you back to your house. I wouldn’t mind. I promise.” He placed his glass on the bar and looked at you through his lashes. He looked sincere and you felt yourself caving.  

“Fine,” you conceded, “So long as you promise that you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all, mama. Come on!” You felt yourself blush at the nickname as you followed him out of the club and into the night air outside. The cold wind was a stark contrast to the stuffiness of the club, and you took a moment to breathe and feel the coolness on your cheeks. You and Josh made your way to his car, and he opened your door for you before getting in himself.

“Thank you again, Josh. You really didn’t have to take me home.” You said after a few moments of relaxed silence. Josh glanced at you for a moment, a soft look on his face, before turning his eyes back to the road.  

“It’s really no problem, y/n. I don’t mind.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, interrupted only by the soft sounds of Fleet Foxes floating out from the car’s speakers. This was why you liked Josh. As much as he always seemed to like to talk, he didn’t ever make you feel like you had to entertain or keep up a conversation for things to not be awkward. He was perfectly content to just sit in silence and enjoy another person’s company. You felt lucky that you got to see this side of him.

“I don’t know how you do it, Josh – go to all these parties all the time. I don’t understand how you find the energy to do it and never get tired.” You laughed, watching the lights of the city blur past your window. He chuckled.  

“I do get tired of it sometimes, I’m just a little better at hiding it.” He glanced at you again before continuing in a softer voice. “I didn’t really want to go tonight, actually. I was only going to go if you agreed to go, too.”

You looked at him, startled.

“Why? I’m not exactly the most fun person to be around at parties.”

“You’re very fun to be around, y/n. I love getting to spend extra time with you. I miss you when we’re on tour.” His honesty made your cheeks warm with embarrassment and you were having a hard time coming up with something to say in response.

“Well,” you said after a moment, “I love getting to spend time with you, too. I only showed up tonight because you asked.”

“I’m honored.” He laughed, his own cheeks tinged a little pink.

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, and soon Josh was pulling into your driveway.

“M’lady.” He said with a dramatic flourish as he opened the car door for you again.

You giggled, taking the hand that he offered you as you stepped out of the car.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” You laughed. “Do you want to come in for a nightcap? I’ve got a bottle of wine calling my name right now if you’d like to join.”

He gave you a dazzling smile.

“That sounds amazing. Lead the way!”

The two of you made your way inside and Josh hooked his keys on the little hook on the wall before plopping down onto your sofa. You entered the kitchen, pulled two wine glasses from your cabinet, and placed them on the table. You grabbed the bottle of wine from your pantry, brought it over, and poured yourself and Josh a generous amount. He chuckled as he watched you fill the glasses. You put the bottle away before bringing them over to the sofa where Josh was sitting.

“Thanks for inviting me in, y/n. I really didn’t want to go back there. Far too loud for tonight.” He took a sip from his glass as you took a seat next to him.

“Consider it repayment for driving me home.” You took a sip from your own glass, reveling in the bitter taste on your tongue.

“Or maybe you’re just trying to spend more time with me.” He said with a sly grin.

“Hmm. Maybe. But you did accept my invitation so maybe you just wanted to spend extra time with me.”

He laughed softly. “Maybe so, y/n. Maybe so.”

Your heart rate picked up as he said the words and you brought your glass to your lips and took a large gulp to try and soothe the nerves away. Being alone with him like this, especially in your own house, was making your brain conjure up dangerous thoughts – thoughts that you usually tried to keep buried.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You asked in a desperate attempt to break the tension. Josh probably knew exactly what you were doing but went along with it.

“Sure! Did you have a certain one in mind?”

“You’re the film guy. You choose.”

He chuckled, placing his drink on the coffee table, and got up to turn off the lamp. He walked back, grabbing the remote as he sat back down. You placed your own drink down next to his and you settled back into the couch, pulling a blanket off the back and covering your lap and Josh’s as he chose one. You weren’t sure what he chose, but your mind became otherwise occupied as he leaned back, and his thigh and shoulder pressed into yours. The heat from him spread through you like the wine had, leaving you warm and relaxed. His scent flooding your nose coupled with the alcohol left you feeling far more at ease than you had been before.

The movie started and you really did try to pay attention – but all your mind could focus on was the feeling of him pressed against you. You stole occasional glances at him, trying to memorize how the soft glow from the TV accentuated his jawline and how his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. At some point, he brought his hand to rest on your knee, absent-mindedly tracing patterns there with his fingertips.

You did your best to keep your eyes focused on the screen and eventually, you found yourself being drawn into the story. At least, you had been for a little while until you felt Josh’s fingertips slowly ghost their way up higher on the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You glanced at Josh, but his eyes were still glued to the screen. He probably hadn’t even realized that he’d done it.

You turned your attention back to the movie, but it wasn’t long before Josh’s touch went even higher – high enough that it couldn’t have been an accident.

“Josh?” You whispered, scared to break the silence; scared to acknowledge what was happening. 

He turned to look at you, eyes dark and glistening in the light of the TV. 

“Y/n,” he whispered, swiping his bottom lip with his tongue. Your eyes tracked the movement before sweeping back up to his eyes. “Please tell me I’m not reading into this wrong. Tell me you want this too.” He looked so nervous – a look you’d never really seen on him before. He was always so confident, so sure of himself; seeing him look at you that way made you ache to reach out and soothe him. This was like a damn dream come true. You’d dreamed about being with him like this. You’d just never thought he would ever be interested in someone like you. There were thousands upon thousands of women who would kill someone to be where you were now, and Josh could have any one of them if he wanted. But somehow it was you that he wanted. It was you that got to see him like this – so vulnerable, his desire reflected clearly in his eyes. 

You must have taken too long to answer though, as he pulled his hand quickly from your thigh and stood awkwardly from the sofa. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I never should have assumed that-” 

You grabbed his wrist quickly, wrapping your fingers around him tightly. 

“Relax, Josh. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

He stared at you for a moment, his cheeks a bright red that you could see even in the dim light. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n. That was so rude of me.  I can leave. I won't ever bring this up again.” He made to pull his wrist from your hand, but you tighten your grip on him. 

“Josh,” you whispered, “I want this. I want you.” 

He stared at you, turning your words over in his mind. He looked divine, bathed in the light from the screen, his chest heaving with excitement. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” You say as you pull him back down onto the sofa. You scoot backwards, bringing your back flush to the armrest and spread your legs. “Come here, Josh. I want this.” 

He crawls his way over to you, sitting on his knees between your thighs. His eyes are even darker than before, and the redness of his cheeks was now painted down his chest as well. You stare at him, waiting. Your heart is pounding, heat flooding between your legs as you stare at him. 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, as he brings his palms to your thighs and leans over you, your chests flush against each other. You ghost your lips over his, feeling their softness. 

“Please do.” 

He brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, immediately plunging his tongue between your lips in a greedy display of lust. You whine quietly as he licks his way into your mouth, and you bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks between them. He presses his hips to yours and you can feel his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, and you can feel your own wetness soaking through your panties. You don’t remember the last time you were this turned on. You feel dizzy – drunk on lust and desire for the man on top of you. 

His lips leave yours and you chase them, but he brings them to your neck instead, pressing searing hot kisses down your throat. He pulls away briefly to pull your shirt over your head before returning his mouth to the hollow of your throat. Your hands move upwards, ghosting over the shaved sides of his head before tangling in his unruly curls. You give them a tug and he groans, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Do you like that, Josh? Like it when I pull your hair?” You ask breathlessly, tugging again at his hair. 

He moans again and you feel his cock twitch as he ruts himself against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck, mama…” he breathes, tongue licking over the valley between your breasts as he brings his right hand to the waistband of your pants. He brings his mouth away from you as he pulls them off, groaning at the sight of your lace thong. You mentally high-five yourself for choosing to put them on that morning. 

“Can I taste you, y/n?” He looks up at you from underneath his lashes and you swear you’ve never seen something more sinful. His lips are red and swollen and his chest glistens with sweat. He looks absolutely ravished already. 

“Whatever you want, Joshy.” 

He gives you a wicked grin before lifting your hips to slide your panties down your thighs. He brings them to his nose and inhales, moaning at the scent before tossing them somewhere in the room. That action alone makes your pussy ache with need for him, and you can feel yourself practically vibrating with excitement and desire. 

He lowers his head between your thighs and swipes his tongue through your folds, lapping at the wetness collected there. You breathe out a stuttered breath and throw your head back, eyes closed tight. He repeats the action, this time swirling the tip of his tongue around your swollen clit. 

“Oh God!” you whine, completely lost in the sensations of his tongue.  

He chuckles, and the vibration leaves you feeling completely drunk on arousal. He continues his ministrations, and it isn't long before you feel that familiar coil tightening in your belly. He brings one hand to cup your chin, thrusting his middle and pointer fingers into your mouth. You suck on them obediently before he pulls them out and sinks them into you, never once stopping with his talented tongue. He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against the spot that few men had ever been able to find as he suckled on your clit and your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave. Your vision whited out as your entire body shook and you let out a wail of Josh’s name. 

He sat up from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – no doubt the most obscenely attractive thing you’d ever seen in your life. 

“Holy fuck.” you breathed out, and Josh chuckled smugly at your blissed-out expression. 

“Everyone always talks about a guitarist’s fingers…” He said with a wicked grin. “But no one ever talks about a vocalist’s tongue.” 

“Cocky bastard.” You laugh, sitting up and reaching for his pants. You pull them off him, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He tears his own shirt off his head and you take a moment to just look at him. You can see his cock still straining through his boxers and his chest is red and heaving. His chin is covered in your wetness. 

“You look divine.” You say, pushing him back into a sitting position. 

“Speak for yourself, darling.” He slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders and reaches behind you to unclip it with one hand. He uses his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You’re completely naked now, and Josh is staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You throw one leg over him, straddling his waist and grinding your pussy down on his cock. His hardness coupled with the roughness of the fabric of his boxers gives you the most delicious friction. He lets out a whine that’s like music to your ears. 

“I don’t have any condoms…” He mutters breathlessly, hands gripping your hips so hard they’ll probably leave bruises. 

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.” You say as you lean down to kiss him again. He moans as you bite his lower lip. 

“You sure?” He says, breaking the kiss to look up at you through hooded eyes. 

“Yes. Wanna feel you all the way.” You say as you pull his boxers down. He kicks them off and you take a moment to admire him. His head is an angry red and pearly droplets of precum leak from it. You scoot down lower on his thighs and spit into your hand before wrapping your fingers around his cock. He whines again and lets his head fall back onto the back of the couch. You pump up and down a few times, increasing your speed as you go. He lets out a breathy moan that sends shocks of arousal down into your pussy. You want nothing more than to sink down on him already, but you continue to jack him off with your hand. You want to see how far you can push him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.” He whines, lifting his head to stare at you. You chuckle and speed up your hand while you start to massage his balls with the other. 

“Mama…” he moans again, and you can feel his balls tighten. He’s about to cum so you squeeze your hand tightly around the base of his dick. He yelps and groans, hips pushing up to try and chase his release. 

“Not yet, baby. Want you to come inside me.” You let go of his cock and bring your own hand to your clit, flicking it a few times before sinking down on him. 

You both moan loudly as you bottom out and you feel like you could cum from the feeling of him stretching you alone. You sit still for a moment, adjusting to his size before you slowly start to rock your hips. He moans and slides his hands down to grip your ass, squeezing as you bounce up and down on him. 

“Fuck, y/n, you feel so good. So tight.” 

“You’re doing so good, Josh. Such a good boy for me.” You moan, picking up your pace. He groans and bucks his hips at the nickname. 

“You like when I call you a good boy?” 

“So much, mama. Wanna be your good boy.” He ruts his hips into yours, meeting you in the middle as you ride him. You can feel yourself right on the edge, but you want to see him cum first. 

“You are my good boy, Josh. You’re so fucking perfect. So needy. So good for me.” And with one final thrust into you, you feel him explode in you, painting your walls with his release. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Holy shit.” He whines, and the sound of his needy moans coupled with the pleasure painted over his face brings you to your own release as well. The coil in your belly snaps for a second time and you moan his name as you ride out your orgasm. 

You rise off him, collapsing onto the sofa next to him. 

“Holy shit.” He laughs breathlessly. “You are something else, mama.” 

You laugh, turning over to kiss him softly. 

“So are you, baby. You were so good for me.” He smiles lazily at you, eyes now shining with something more than just lust. 

“I’m glad you invited me in.” 

You laughed loudly. 

“Me too.’’ You could feel the tendrils of sleep beginning to cloud your mind and you rose slowly from the couch. Josh looked up at you, his messy curls falling onto his forehead. You extended your hand toward him 

“Stay with me tonight?” 

He smiled softly at you and took your hand. 

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

#josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #josh gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #greta van fic #gvf #smut #dee's writing

[hoefordazai]

SPOILERS FOR THE HALLOWEEN EVENT!!!

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH THE ANGELS?!?! LIKE, I UNDERSTAND WHY GABRIEL WOULD MAYBE BE A LITTLE INTRIGUED TO SEE THE HUMAN THAT HE PRESUMABLY KILLED ALIVE AND WELL AND BE LIKE 'oh, I'll definitely find a way to kill this bitch' BECAUSE HE WANTS TO CAUSE CHAOS AND WANTS TO DESTROY EVERYTHING AND HE WOULD LIKE SMILE IN A MISCHIEVOUS WAY IN LIKE I'LL GET YOU BITCH I'LL GET YOU NEXT TIME! BUT WHY ARE MICHAEL AND RAPHAEL SMILING AND ACTING LIKE THATTTTTTTT! IT'S WEIRD! IT'S FUCKING WEIRD! ESPECIALLY WITH HOW RAPHAEL REACTED! I WAS FULLY WAITING FOR HIM TO TAKE A BITE OUT OF MINHYEOK FOR A SECOND! LIKE, IT'S SO FUCKING WEIRD!!

Anyway, I'm still debating whether or not I should just record myself doing the event again and going on a fucking rant about this whole thing but I'm scared to post myself anywhere so hahahaha

#what in hell is bad #whb #whb minhyeok #whb michael #whb raphael #whb gabriel

[staycorpse]

how do you think corpse would be with a tall gf??

Corpse x Tall! Gf 🖤

author’s note: that’s all i can think of at the top of my head rn 🥹🫶🏽 thanks for requesting this! hope you enjoyed! 🫧

not me forgetting how tall this man is 🥴

it’s a mix of him being your biggest hype man nd being a troll

right off the bat, just want to clarify: i don’t see him having a preference over his partner’s height. honestly i see it as something he doesn’t give a fuck about. he loves you for you, period. whether you’re taller or shorter, it doesn’t matter to him.

if you are confident about your height, best believe that both of your feeds will be of the two of you slaying fit checks like it’s nobody’s business!

every post on his platforms will be of him hardcore simping over you, how such a baddie you are- becomes a whole stan acc

best believe you will be the album cover or single cover on any of his music projects

if it’s something you are insecure about, he’ll go out of his way to hype you tf up! every. single. time 👏🏽

like for example, you’re planning on going out nd dressing up. nd you’re debating between wearing those cute heels/platforms or some regular flats

the correct option is to wear those cute heels/platforms 🤷🏾‍♀️ especially if it’s what you wanted to wear in the first place!

will end up making you late bc he’s trying reassure you that you look great in the heels/platforms. doesn’t want you to leave the house without wearing what you actually wanted to bc you were worried about being taller than everyone else

ngl corpse likes it when you’re even taller bc of the shoes you’re wearing (i didn’t forget him simping over lady dimetrescu from re8 so… 🫠 don’t @ me)

he gets pouty bc you don’t understand how being taller makes you even more beautiful to him

will always compliment you and tell you how beautiful you are

every time you enter the room, you hold his attention without even trying nd you’re just subjected to constant love, praise nd support

he could be on a stream/call with his friends nd will pause for a moment just to tell you that you’re hot af nd that he loves you

whenever his friends ask him if he feels a lil insecure himself about being shorter than you, he shuts that shit down IMMEDIATELY

will always let it be known that it’s never a problem, just an added bonus bc its you

he could get teased himself for being shorter than you nd he doesn’t hesitate to hit anyone back with his sass/put them in check

to him, it’s such a nonissue nd it sometimes makes him laugh that people will find the time to talk shit about your guys’ height difference

will share stories with his friends where he does tease you a bit bc of your height

like for example, you both are in the kitchen and he asks you to get him something from the top shelf

even though you know he’s more than capable of doing it himself, when you do entertain him by grabbing the thing he asked for, he’s just gets giddy about it

like wow is this how girls feel when it’s the other way around? 🤭

one time you thought it’d be funny to pin him against a wall to see his reaction nd he got so stunned! he was a stuttering nd blushing mess 😂 lowkey likes it when you do it to specifically put him in his place when he gets too bratty or sassy with you

if you want to know the quickest way to get him to fold, slowly pin him against the wall without breaking eye contact. you’re welcome 🤪

expect a lot of back hugs! he just can’t help himself. you could be cooking or streaming nd he’ll just hug you from behind. he lives to be the little spoon when you two cuddle.

nd if his head is not laying on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat, he will throw a pouty fit 🤧

he’s really just living the girl fantasy nd he wouldn’t trade it for a second. like he’s so baby girl coded when it comes to you

will sometimes ask you how the weather is up there 😭 which results in a swift ‘stfu babe’ but!!! if you do decide to entertain his bullshit, it’s usually followed up with a sarcastic answer

“currently a thunderstorm rn..” or “pretty cloudy today.”

“aww babe,” he’ll coo, “c’mere, let me make it better.” you lean down to his level nd he’ll just kiss you

even better if you’re standing over him, he’ll just motion for you to lay on top of him or sit in his lap nd he’ll just shower you with kisses

after of giving you your very much deserved love nd affection, he’ll see the smile on your face nd say, “hmm, i think there’s a 100% chance of sunshine today~”

#staycorpse 🫧 #staycorpse requests! 🫧 #corpse husband #corpse x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x black!reader #corpse husband x tall! reader #corpse husband x poc!reader #corpse husband drabbles

[ghostdrinksmoonshine]

astro observations: I

hello! this is my first post on this blog! I’m kinda new to this but I wanted a place to dump my observations so I’m starting here. thank you and I hope you enjoy :)

also quick disclaimer! this post contains my personal opinions and observations and as such is not meant to be taken very seriously or as fact. these posts are written purely for entertainment purposes so only take what resonates 💕

𖤓 pisces rising or people with pisces placements are SO easy to pick out, either through their appearance or their mannerisms. I’ve never met a pisces (or someone with prominent pisces placements) who didn’t look somewhat ethereal, either with big round eyes or a sweet voice. they’ve got those siren eyes, you know? and incredibly soft skin. they move like they belong in water. the more neptunian the person, the more prominent these qualities are. although having pisces rising and/or planets in the 12th house will do the trick too

𖤓 speaking of rising signs, aries rising people are also easy to pick out. they tend to have very prominent eyebrows (arched, like the horns of the ram) and a real presence about them. unless the native has other aspects which suggest a meeker personality, aries rising is not typically a wallflower placement. they either walk with purpose (power walk with a spark in their eyes, a real “don’t fuck with me” vibe) or like a little kid, all cheery and skipping around. the earlier the degree, the more childlike the aries rising will appear upon first meeting

𖤓 ^^ I have aries rising and have found that people tend to underestimate me upon first meeting because I have a very childlike and “happy-go-lucky” disposition. I’m a capricorn sun though, and every time someone gets to know me they always say I’m more serious and pragmatic than they thought I would be. like it’s a real shock </3

𖤓 sagittarius suns (or people with prominent sag placements) usually have a gap between the teeth! look out for it, if you know someone with it they probably have planets in sagittarius and/or the ninth house

𖤓 I see a lot of people say that libra mars is a “submissive” or “docile” mars placement but honestly I think people forget that libra is a cardinal sign, not a mutable sign. every libra mars person I’ve met has been fond of debating (and they are excellent debaters) and tend to play devil’s advocate. that, or they like to investigate every aspect of an argument to reach the most “fair” conclusion

𖤓 ^^ I think the “docile” stereotype comes from the fact that they’re not necessarily aggressive either, and don’t tend to anger easily. in fact, since libra is ruled by venus these people tend to be very socially charming (to the point of people pleasing). still, this doesn’t mean they won’t argue because they very much will. like I said, they’re big on fairness, as well as making sure all the “facts” line up. many of my friends with this placement ended up studying political science and/or law, or at least have an interest in politics. if you miss an essential detail they’ll pick up on it. they’re similar to virgo mars in a way, except libra mars focuses on fairness/balance, whereas virgo mars are nitpicky about details for precision/perfectionist reasons. they work hard to get the best results

𖤓 however, I’ve noticed that if the mars is on the cusp of virgo/libra, then the native will also use this ability to focus on beauty and aesthetics, regardless of whether their actual mars is virgo or libra. check your degrees, it’s important

𖤓 and on that note, I’ve also noticed that a majority of famous writers have prominent virgo placements! it’s usually a mix between virgo, sagittarius and some water sign/house, but virgo appears most consistently. since writing is an incredibly mercurial practice (editing/prose writing demands that eye for detail that virgos are famous for) this isn’t surprising at all

𖤓 gemini suns are so fucking cheeky, they really are the “little devil” of the zodiac. seriously, these people love taking the piss and trolling others. I grew up in a house of gemini boys can you imagine my pain. my boss is a gemini sun and he literally teases my coworkers all the time, calling them nicknames and messing with them. these people like to poke the bear and see how far they can go 😭 this also goes for people with strong gemini influences, for example my best friend isn’t a gemini sun but her mercury conjuncts her ascendent exactly and has the same humour I just described (this is because gemini is ruled by mercury)

𖤓 and continuing with this placement, mercury conjunct the ascendent makes the native a very good speaker, especially if it’s positively aspected. my friend is the only person who can persuade me to do anything, and she’s incredibly well spoken. the same applies to mercury in the first house, although it’s stronger when it’s conjunct the ascendent

𖤓 people with pluto in the first house have the most chilling stares, it’s like having scorpio rising even if you have no other scorpio placements in your chart. another friend of mine has pluto conjunct the ascendent (again, exactly) and we always joke that he has “fuck me” eyes 😂 that scorpio influence darkens any ascendent you have, it’s a very powerful placement. my brother also has pluto in the first house and my family used to say he had “evil eyes” whenever he got angry (his glare could kill you). my girlfriend says people say the same thing about her and she also has pluto in the first house! this is intensified if you also have scorpio rising (true for both my brother and my girlfriend, god bless)

𖤓 ^^ another thing to note about pluto in the first house: this placement usually indicates that the native will go through a major transformation regarding their identity in their lifetime, especially if it has to do with their physical appearance and/or presentation. what this means specifically depends on the rest of the chart and whether or not pluto is positively aspected, but it’s definitely a significant aspect of this placement!

okay that’s all for now! I have a lot of thoughts about astrology (I’m currently reading a lot about synastry and composite charts too) so let me know if you liked this! ✨✨✨

#ghost’s astro thoughts #astrology #astrology observations #astro observations #natal chart #pisces rising #pisces sun #aries rising #saggittarius sun #libra mars #virgo mars #gemini sun #mercury in 1st house #pluto in 1st house