#the expectation to appeal to OTHER girls. when those girls are living under the expectation to appeal to men. lets talk about it.

[dexlexia]

studies in relaxation - bokuto x reader

pairing: kōtarō bokuto x reader rating: 18+ summary: It was finals, oh how you hated finals. But that wasn't something was concerned your boyfriend. He made it through university on an athletic scholarship. While he was amazing at volleyball, he only marginally passed his courses. But unlike him, you had to make sure your grades were up to par. You couldn't slip in your marks. tags: college au, pwp, smut, couch sex, gentle sex, massages, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (f receiving)

It was finals, oh how you hated finals. But that wasn't something that concerned your boyfriend. He made it through university on an athlete scholarship. While he was amazing at volleyball, he only marginally passed his courses. But unlike him, you had to make sure your grades were up to par. You couldn't slip in your marks. 

And he worried so much about you.

He hated seeing you so stressed.

You both lived in an apartment just off campus, and while it was rather nice and domestic. It was hard when you had to study. Your hyper-active boyfriend was more engaged with the idea of doing anything else with you BUT studying. But you needed to cram every last piece of information from your textbook.

You couldn't afford to fail the final exam of the semester. You were a top student, but being at the top meant the weight of expectations fell on your shoulders. You couldn't be an ace player like your boyfriend. 

Currently you are hunched over the desk in the living room, with all the lights off except the lamp over your desk. With one pen in your mouth and another tapping at the open notebook. You felt like you were losing your mind. 

This all made sense about an hour ago, but now it felt like nails on a chalkboard inside of your brain. When you started to doubt yourself you felt your heart start to race. But you had no time to have a panic attack, you needed to absorb everything in this textbook ASAP. 

You took the pen out of your mouth and exhaled. This was all getting to be too much. You dropped the pen in your hand and buried the heels of your hands in your eyes to rub the sleepiness out of them. “Goddamnit.” You muttered under your breath. 

“Is everything okay, babe?" You heard from the couch nearby. There sat Bokuto with his laptop propped up and his earphones in. He hated being apart from you, so while you were swamped with studying for finals he was as close as he could be. He wanted to make sure he was there if you needed anything.

You exhaled, ”Everything's fine, Ko. I'll be okay. It's just a lot.“ You watched him take the other earphone out and put his laptop to the side. He got up from the couch and walked towards you. He always looked like a lost puppy when he didn't know how to help you, but not everything could be solved with Bokuto's classic smile. 

  ”Do you want a back rub?” He asked as he held up his hands and made a grabbing motion with his fingers as to indicate that he was willing to massage you. 

You sighed once more, “Just be gentle.” And pulled the chair away from the desk. You rolled your shoulders and straightened out your back which caused some cracking of your spine. 

  “Akaashi told me that they help more if you're away from where you are working.“ He reached to pull the chair out further. You had no choice, you got up and followed him to the couch. 

You flopped down on top of it and rolled your neck from side to side. Bokuto sat beside you and manoeuvred you with his back to him. ”Relax.“ He prompted, ”Please.“ Then leaned in and kissed you on the cheek from behind. Then with those large hands he started to massage your back.

The first bit of pressure made you tense up, but the careful movements at the base of your neck made you relax. But the sound of your neck being massaged was far from appealing with all the cracks. You really did need something like this. He went in for another kiss and gave you gentle praise. 

  ”You're my smart girl.“ He assured you, ”But you work too hard, I don't want you to hurt yourself.“ You could hear the frown in his voice even if you couldn't see it.

  “I'm fine, Ko. It's just the end of the semester, it'll be over before you know it and we can enjoy our break.” You reassured him. You felt his kisses against your neck. You knew he worried. He didn't worry about much, but he did worry about you. 

He continued to work at the muscles of your back. The occasion crack or pop of your back as he tried to smooth out the tension. It only increased his worry with how tense you were. He soon applied more pressure and you kicked out your legs from it. You tilted your head to the side and moaned as he pressed his palms into your skin.

  “Do you like that?” He asked.

  “I love it, honey.” You responded, “I haven't had a massage in so long. I forgot how sensitive I was.” You exhaled deeply as you felt another sensation through your body as he touched you. It wasn't painful but it also wasn't a nonexistent feeling. There was pressure to it that made you grip onto your knees to keep yourself steady. 

  “Good, good. I want my honey to feel good.” He started to kiss at your neck, “Akaashi told me that the more relaxed you are, the better you learn. So I need you to relax.” His warm breath was against your neck as he massaged your lower back which made you let out a small squeak. He chuckled and continued to rub you down. 

He was just perfect, there was no one like Bokuto. He was just perfect. He kissed your neck some more, and his hands went to your front. He smiled against your skin and started to grab at your breasts. You moaned and it encouraged him to keep going. To keep touching you while he attempted to make you comfortable.

  "Do you like that?“ He asked, his lips were close to your ear, ”Does my lovely, amazing girl like that? Because I want you to feel good.“ He chuckled softly. 

You tilted your head to the side away from him and shakily exhaled, ”It feels amazing. I guess.” You trailed off, “I could take a break.” 

  “Yeah?” He perked up, “You want a break with me?”

You giggled and turned on the couch. You faced him and reached to stroke his face, “After all, you know how to make me the most relaxed.” You leaned in close to him.  “I only ever feel safe around you.”

He chuckled and kissed you. He laid you out on the couch under him, his broad body covered yours as he cupped your face. Those gold eyes gazed down at you and you smiled up at him. He felt so close, you felt so loved. And maybe the feeling of stress was starting to leave your body. He pulled you in for one last kiss as his hand started to trail down into your shorts.

The waistband was stretchy which allowed his hand to slip in perfectly. He groaned into the kiss as he reached the band of your underwear. He smiled into the kiss as he felt around. Soon his longer fingers reached past the waist of your underwear and towards your pussy. 

 “Ko.” You said.

 “I got you, honey.” He replied as he pulled you in for another searing kiss as he started to play with your clit. His pointer finger rubbed up against your sensitive spot as he passionately made out with you. The feeling made your toes curl in your socks, you felt the urge to kick out your legs from the pleasure but managed to restrain yourself. 

  “Ko. Please.“ You moaned before you went in for another kiss.Your heart pounded in your chest as you held onto his arms for support. He was so strong compared to you, you could feel the strength of his muscles in his arms.

  ”Don't worry.“He reassured, ”I'll make you nice and relaxed honey!“ Then continue to play with your clit. The feeling made your back arch as you moaned loudly. He smiled down at you like a ray of sunshine and went in for another searing kiss. He was  just a perfect boyfriend.

You loved him with all your heart, he was just so perfect that there was little to put into words just HOW perfect he was. He wanted his number one girl to get her finals done and he'd make sure that through any means that you were the most comfortable and safe with him. 

He'd make sure that you were taken care of, and he adored you for that. He just thought you were perfect and there was no replacing you. He pulled away once more and gazed at your face, every expression you made as he dipped two fingers inside of you. His movements were rapid as you moaned loudly. 

  ”That's it, honey.” He moaned against your skin. His cock throbbed in his pants but that was a problem for another time. He closed the gap between you even further, and pushed his fingers even deeper into you. He felt your hot breath on his cheek as he played with your pussy.

Your heart raced in your chest and you felt warm all over. But you also felt the stress melt off of your body and pleasure tae over. Especially since his skilled fingers were stroking your sex. You held onto him as  he pleasured you. 

But soon that wasn't enough. He pulled away and got down to his knees in front of the couch with a 'thud' and started to pull down your shorts to reveal your pussy. He licked his lips as he got your legs spread and more of your sweet sex exposed.

  “Such a good girl.” He praised you. Those gold eyes gazed at you with such love, and hope. He adored you so much, he thought you were just a beautiful creature, “You're going to do so well on your exams.“

  ”Promise?“

  ”Promise.“ 

He gazed up at you and gave you one last grin before he held your legs open and started to pleasure you orally. He thought you were just divine, a holy object of worship. To do anything in his power to help you be the best you could be. I loved you so much. 

His licks were quick across your clit. You curled your toes and held onto his silver hair as he pleasured you. He held your legs open so you didn't crush his head with your thighs!

He kissed your pussy and left wet licks across your clit. You felt the pressure build up in your stomach as you clutched onto him. The feeling was immense, you knew that Bokuto had a skilled tongue but everytime it took you off guard. 

  ”You're amazing.“ He said, ”So perfect.''He groaned into your skin before he went back to lapping at your sweet sex. He was enthralled by you, he thought you were just so perfect. He couldn't get enough of you. But he knew you were getting close so he took one hand and began to tease you while he lapped at your clit. 

You almost kicked out your legs once more as you clutched onto him. You moaned out loud and leaned your head back as you felt the surge of pleasure. Your toes curled once more and you gripped onto him further.

He lapped at your pussy lovingly, he felt a swell in his chest. He loved your sweet noises, he loved how you sounded when he pleasured you. It was a remarkable feeling that he couldn't deny. 

It wasn't long before you felt the mountainous feeling of pleasure run through your body. You felt onto him tightly, the feeling of soft silver hair past your fingertips. You moaned and panted, and as you climaxed you kicked out your legs in pleasure.

 ”Ko!“ You moaned out loud as you finished on his tongue. And every anxiety was out of your body and you were relaxed against the couch with your chest heaving. You let go of him and relaxed. Your mind felt fuzzy but in the best way possible.

He got up and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You felt your heart flutter. 

He beamed at you and reached out for you, “Now why don't we go for another round in the bedroom. I know another way for you to relax.” And winked at you. You smiled up at him and followed close behind him as you tried to pull up your pants. 

#dexlexia writes #reader insert #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto #bokuto #kotaro bokuto x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #female reader #fem reader #hq x reader

[emblazonet]

Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern

THIS BOOK IS SO GOOD!! It's so good! This is 100% my favourite Pern book so far. The characters are all great. The setting felt alive and interesting. The stakes were fucking high. I knew Moreta was going to die, in the way you know Vanyel is going to die in The Last Herald-Mage trilogy, because we're going back in time to explore the life of a characters from an in-universe ballad, and it made me love her more.

It's also about a pandemic, but in a soothing way? Honestly it was SUCH a relief to read a story about people just fucking doing the work of Dealing With A Contagious Flu without much of the bullshittery we've all had to live through these past three years.

This got long, so more under the cut!

There are no psycho anti-vax cults in Pern. The small population scattered over a continent that's constantly being besieged by Thread does not, generally, have the luxury of either the greed we've gotten to witness IRL nor the misinformation campaigns. Characters that hoard are stolen from; characters who try to prevent vaccination are villains in the narrative and the good guys go into their territory to vaccinate—that's Moreta's final heroic moment! She dies, not from the disease but from exhaustion, to ensure everyone gets vaccinated to PREVENT A SECOND WAVE.

I expected to feel re-traumatized by the pandemic conflict. Instead, it felt healing to read about these characters. It felt affirming. It made me feel better about my choice to continue wearing a mask in public. It felt invigorating: ok, so my world isn't as sensible as Pern's, but it's still worth it to fight disease, to fight the depression and apathy—in short, it did exactly what a fantasy book is supposed to do. Inspire. I don't know that this will be everyone's take away, but it was mine.

This book gets so much right, I can't even believe this is the same author who wrote all those other Pern books I've read so far. (How did we jump from the crap of The White Dragon into this? HOW?) All these things:

Despite there being SO MANY characters, the book largely juggles its cast well, and while I often forgot names, the context usually helped me out. Every character actually felt unique and distinct and like they had different lives they were living.

Moreta and Alessan's relationship was so well done. You know it's not a romance that will go anywhere, so it feels precious when they snatch some time together. Also, Alessan is just an attractive dude character? Unlike any other of the male leads in a Pern book, Alessan appeals to me.

The relationship between Moreta and the older queen rider, Leri—UGH MY HEART. At the beginning of the book I was worried Moreta would have the 'not like other girls' vibe... I needn't worried. Leri as mentor, accomplice and friend is everything I could have asked for in a female friendship. And Moreta has other relationships and positive experiences with women, and it's so good, but what she has with Leri is so special.

The way the book builds this yearning for Moreta to be able to fly Orlith again, and then at the end she's with Leri's exhausted Holth, and they die away from their partners in the line of duty—I CRIED OK. It was so much. It was so good.

Only small bits of time travel, smart avoidance of paradoxes, thank you.

I was super invested in Moreta's healing of the Thread-damaged dragon wings. The whole process of healing dragons was super interesting!

Loved that Threadfall kept on happening throughout, it made the stakes even higher in the best way possible.

There were things I think could have been better:

I didn't enjoy Moreta's introduction and it made me feel like the book was gonna suck lol, she was arguing with Nesso and then talking about her body in a way that just felt dated and weird.

Everyone on Pern must have the same blood type I guess? Because they're just using extracted blood to make the vaccine, and the vaccine appears to have no ill effect. Honestly, the book had so much going on I'm pretty grateful it didn't go into Accurate Medical Science, but it did feel incredibly oversimplified.

Telgar Weyr's Weyrleader just sort of like decides everyone's not allowed into his territory and fuck you guys but I didn't really get a feel for that character at all or where he was coming from? So it undermined Moreta's end sacrifice a bit, because the ending felt rushed.

I really wanted Sh'gall to do something so egregiously annoying that someone yelled at him. Sh'gall was basically the comic relief though, I generally enjoyed how useless he was lol.

Overall? 11/10 and I REALLY hope the rest of the Pern books are this good! I'm going to pick back up in January with Nerilka's Story.

#Amber reads Pern #Dragonriders of Pern #Moreta #straight up I enjoyed this one even more than Dragonsong #wish we'd globally handled the pandemic like they did on Pern #still losing my mind that runnerbeasts are just horses #ffs #I'm gonna have to design a weird equine for pern

[elizabethplaid]

a drafted note - April 7, 2021

I've now had 3 former romantic-interests reach out and check on me in the past 6 months. Maybe I'm too entrenched my own bubble-world, but I don't understand why they're reaching out. We weren't that close; we drifted apart, sometimes even by my choice. I kinda understand the ex from 15 years ago, but not the other 2.

Is this part of growing older, the passage of time? People stop and reflect, then want to reach out before it's too late. No, because we don't say anything, don't solve anything. Anything of substance. There’s a status update, the mention of “I’ll message again later, take care”, and then no follow-up.

I have this figurine with an electric eye, and it plays music when it “sees” light. So anytime you pick it up, the music starts and won’t stop before the end of the song. These check-ins from lost contacts feel like someone has dug out the figurine, and I’m suddenly reminded of how startling that song-feature is. It was packed away, safe from light, with me happily forgetting it. Not a big deal in the long-run that it came back. But the silence was disturbed and the emotions, memories, and lack thereof came rushing back. Just a rock thrown in my pond.

Whenever someone has done this sort of check-in in the past, I’ve hated how I can’t trust them to stick around and keep talking. Now, I purposely don’t want to talk to them; those chapters of my life are closed to me and carry no interest. There’s no appeal to reconnecting.

My ex probably does care about my well-being, as he saw me through some of my worst anxiety attacks and mental health stuff. But it was short-lived puppy love of a 19-year-old girl. And neither of us were good for the other.

I don’t know what’s expected of me. Should I just say, “I’m dense/confused enough that I don’t know what you want of me. Please give me the parameters of this interaction, so I know how to navigate. What’s the goal? Why now? Why me?”

--------------- Finally posting in Feb 2024: Nothing much came of these interactions. I told one guy to not bother messaging me, as he had been doing it once a year with the same results.

For the record, we were still in quarantine and under masking mandates per covid at the time.

#draft saved April 7 2021 #daily notes #clearing drafts #queued post is queued

[infraaa]

The blood turns, pure and warm… who will take the vial on this night…

SFW // NSFW Matchup Pack – Duo Magic

Commissioned by @spiritanimals64-blog — thank you for your purchase!

tw (for part 2) // primal play, rope play, oral sex

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

SFW Section

➞Cater Diamond

What a surprise this one is. He took an interest in you because of your bubbly personality. Now, with this said, expect a camera to be shoved in your face. He loves the fact that you’re a go go go kind of person, and you’re always on your feet, much like his traveling spirit. Like the bad boy good girl dynamic really. When he met you one day, he saw that intuitiveness in you through your passion for animals.

One day, Riddle’s hedgehog, one of them at least, fell ill. Because he was so busy, he told Cater to take his beloved hedgehog to the vet, not knowing what the deal was with him. AS such, you took in the little guy and asked about his diet. You formulated a completely new diet for the hedgehog to try, and gave the lists to Cater. With a smile, he took a picture of the lists as well for safe keeping so that he could keep them on his phone. With a wink towards you, he was sent on his merry way. Albeit this seems like a normal everyday interaction with a pet owner and an animal nutritionist, you happened to see some kind of charm in the ginger that kind of matched yours. Nevertheless, you went on with your day.

Another time he saw you was on one of your off days, letting your artistry come to life. Painting, drawing, sewing, whatever it is you do, he saw you again, and like the social butterfly he is, he decided to greet you. You’ll be in one of those obsessive phases, maybe about a particular art style you found appealing and you wanted to master it. With an interested emerald eye, he took an interest in whatever you were crafting, and wanted to show it off, saying that you could make money off of your craft if you had enough exposure. However, as you seem to not be the type of person to adore the limelight, you turned down the offer and went back to work, before telling him kindly to buzz off. He would laugh, and pull a quirky quip out of his pocket, like “aww, don’t be so aggro on me, babe! C’mon, it won’t hurt ya!” He’ll keep pestering you and annoying you with magicam shit until you finally suck up and admit defeat, giving him permission to post your work to social media. With a smile,he promotes your work, giving you credit where it’s due of course, and never missing a beat on new work that you create.

He may meet you here and there, maybe at a local cafe where you all chat about your passions and such. You learn that he’s trying to become an influencer and that he looks up to someone named Vil for advice. With your competitive nature, you tell him that the field he wants to be in with the regard of the limelight that the internet can carry can be heavily competitive, and that people are always looking for what’s hot, new, and trending. You give him advice on how to run the internet in terms of being competitive and how being this way can benefit him. However, being an excellent room reader, he can tell when you’re getting too deep into the thrill of competition, via obsession. He’ll mediate you and tell you to step out of the water before you cause some fire. Being avid with people, he can read others quite well and give you advice on how to deal with certain social situations. This gives you a sense of security from the ginger, to which he also receives this security from your advice on how to protect his fanbase better, and gain a better grip on his internet persona. You find that he has a zest for his academic life, but not his academic learning. He wants to live his school life to the fullest he says, he’s just not interested in his classes outside of astrology. Despite this, you decide to pull him to your shoulder and help him study on your off days when you feel as though you have free time. Here comes the bad boy good girl trope again.

He’ll constantly try to sway your mind off of his studies, claiming you don’t need to focus on what he needs to get done and that eventually, he’ll get it done. You press on, which causes him to press on into flustering you. Very avid flirt here too, keep that in mind he's very social and takes an interest in your good girl “let’s get this done” attitude. Being a hard worker, he often compares you to Trey, playfully saying that you’re no fun and that you need to relax. 

Regardless, you both seem to click in a cliche, but fun way. The others at Heartslabyul like to comment on how you give him structure, whereas he gives you a little bit of spunk to add to your work life. He often goes with his buds to your place of occupation to sneakily take pictures of the animals you tend to, making sure he isn't getting caught, but you always seem to catch him. However, his reasoning for this behavior is so that he can spread word about you and your job. Maybe more people will refer to you if they knew you, if someone’s got an animal in need of some care, there’s a possibility that your name or your place of work may slip out of someone’s mouth, building a larger reputation, and a larger paycheck. You only take the chance because… gas money and money to support yourself. Money is tight right now and let’s face it: we’re all paying car notes at the goddamn pump, so may as well get some extra cred for an extra dime.

For hangouts, he may show you around to some of his cafes he regulars. His fans may see you, walk up to you and ask what it’s like being friends or a romantic partner to the one and only Cater Diamond. What would you say? Would you be able to keep up with his avid social life IRL and online? He does live two lives after all, one online, and one at school and in the real world. Can you deal with his meme-like behavior? His savviness? The way he likes to slither around certain things using his tongue to navigate around? He’s good with his words, honey. But don’t be like his older sisters, he hates sucking up to them as it is and he hates losing bets. However, if he does lose a bet to you…? Free bragging rights. Make him feel like he’s gotta be at your feet for a day just for fun. It’ll actually put him in line, and at the end of the day, you all just get to chill and eat ramen together while watching whatever looks good on Netflix. Who wouldn't want that?

In conclusion, Cater loves your smarts and intuition, and he loves the fact that you can put him back on his feet. You got a keen eye for art too and you give him stuff to post, growing his fanbase and his name as an influencer. One helps another in this mutualistic relationship. Oh but what if things got a little more than platonic? Well wouldn't that be a scandal for magicam to eat up?

NSFW Section

➞Rook Hunt

(Disclaimer: I was trying to choose between Rook and Trey. I rolled a die and it gave me a number greater than five, so Rook was the one that was picked. This was also mildly difficult… and has a lot of puns.)

Well, isn’t this quite a doozy? Rook took a liking to you because he may or may not have seen you on magicam. See? Cater really can be a miracle worker. When he saw your work, Rook automatically took an interest in you, and wanted to potentially buy from you. He admires the beautiful after all, and having one of your costumes? Oh lord! He would be starstruck! So when this dashing frenchman comes to greet you for the first time, he flashes a smile, and flexes his french tongue, accent and all.

He admires how hardworking you are, as a hunter he takes that into great consideration. The more he gets to know you, the more he wants to be in your presence. Seeing his passions, you can relate to him and have deep conversations with him about plays and script writes you both seem to enjoy. However, you notice that he’s been reading you like a book, but you can’t seem to open up the cover to reveal its pages. To combat this, you confront him, saying that he takes so much interest in you, but you barely know him as a person, not knowing what he could be thinking at a moment’s notice. Regardless, he winks, and says that is for a good reason, one that he will reveal later on.

And oh boy, is it worth the wait. Like a slithering snake, he crawls into your head and nests there, his mysteriousness and his image laden in enigma cradling your mind as you go about your business each day. And the more he plagues you, the more needy you grow. Kind of like resisting a craving, but harder. Because it’s not a thing, it’s a person.

He opens up to you the old fashioned cliche way that you find in any romance movie imaginable. He’s got some shit up his sleeve, and he’s ready to sweep you off your feet. You see, Rook is the type of fellow that admires you so much based off of your own facets that he’s more than willing to take you to third base at base one. If you’re innocent, this makes all the difference. Because he’s not, and he’ll be more than happy to corrupt the living fuck out of you, with love of course. He’s not completely lustful. Rook is into exotic kinds of foreplay, something to entertain his mind and to spice up the act. Maybe some improv about a young girl kidnapped away by a dragon in a castle or some shit, and the knight has to slay it, yada yada yada, you know the whole tale, but instead of taking her back to her palace of origin, there’s sex, then he takes you home. Fun right?

Other than this, Rook seems to be into tongue. A lot of it. Man is a cunnalinguist, and he won’t hesitate to let you know about it. He says if your partner isn’t mewling and tossing their head back like they’re about to transform, you’re not doing it right. So when he takes you in the midst of your romp, he’ll make you feel like you’re about to transform into some kind of goddess, an evolution if you will. Except without the pokeballs, that wouldn’t be too comfortable.

I get the feeling that you would be the one to fight for dominance. Since you have a competitive fighting streak to get to first place, you would probably put up a fight to be on top. He lives for this, gags and chokes for this. Please attempt to fight him, he’ll pack quite the punch though. Rook is pretty strong, yet agile, and he won’t refrain from restringing you to maintain his position. Speaking of restraints, he’s into ropes too. One way he’ll want to see you fight him is through your restraints as he intricately binds you down to velvet sheets with lavish purple or red ropes, clinging to your flesh tightly yet gingerly, holding you in delicate positions that would expose the crap out of you, kind of like how you were exposed to the dragon in the story. Except there isn’t any monster porn involved, that would be traumatic. Handcuffs too, make them fuzzy so that they don’t hurt you too much. He’s not into sadism, albeit he is playful with prey, like very playful. Think of him like a gay tiger.

Moreso into making love than sex, however if it’s want you want out of him, he will gladly deliver. Whether rough and fast like a speeding chariot, or soft and slow like a tortoise, he’s good in both methods and will be sure to satisfy the shit out of you, with the art of mental gymnastics and other things. Into adding props to make things interesting. Since he’s seen your work, he may write up a whole script, (I’m not kidding, he will take this seriously if he has an idea,) and he may ask you to make a few props for him that he sketched out for you, neatly and cleanly. Hell, he may even give you a floor plan to go along with the props and shit. May also bring things like whips to add to actions in script writes, he calls it “emphasis of character.”

Oh, remember the tiger thing from earlier? He’s a hunter, so you get where this is going. He likes the thrill of the hunt, being able to catch and capture prey, the chase, the adrenaline, tres bien! Oh, and don’t worry, he won’t maul you like a hungry tasmanian devil, because that is a very impolite way to eat. But he’ll make sure to also add fitting music to the chase scene, similar to the music that he uses when he fights the goddamn dragon. He’s a good knight. And no, the dragon thing isn’t malleus slander.

Aftercare? Aftercare. This man can cook, cuddle, bathe or shower, make drinks, this man has learned from cupid himself on how to praise his prey after a job well done, in and out of the bedroom. With Rook, aftercare is a must. It is crucial to show love after such a deed. The funny thing too about Rook is that he doesn’t fuck, he praises. He doesn’t murder, he kills, see the difference in severities between those words? Like you want lobster after sex? Okay, done. You just want a grilled cheese and a water? Maybe a strudel? Sure. And hell, don’t think that’s wrong because he can and will make you shit to eat after work as well, you don’t have to ask him.

And that’s the story, written by whomever the hell. But on that script write, on every single ohne he produces overtaking your romps with him, on every single one, at the very bottom he has written his signature in fancy purple ink, just like how he signed your heart with his blood soaked arrows. How romantic. Call him shakespear. (Get it?)

#infrawrites #infradelivers #twisted wonderland commissions #twst cater #cater diamond #twst rook #rook hunt #cater diamond x reader #rook hunt x reader #twst heartslabyul #twst pomefiore #infra@212! #tw// #twst smut #x reader smut #smut headcanons #matchups #twst matchup #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland #twst writing #twisted wonderland

[thevagabondexpress]

a textbook case of not understanding your own characters, or, jordelia won't last under the parameters canon set out for them. some issues a tsc fan sees in tsc, pt. iv

Lemme paraphrase: I love Jordelia. I do. I love James and Cordelia and their crazy, beautiful, broken love story. That being said, James Herondale and the narrative are not nearly as healthy as we think they are and Cordelia's not going to stay in this situation long. Well, not in canon, under the parameters and presumptions the canon has laid out for them. I cannot picture Cordelia Carstairs wanting to be a mother under the circumstances presented in canon and the fact that Cassandra Clare leaves us with the assumption that she will be is deeply disturbing proof that she doesn't have any in-depth understanding of the characters she created. I give you a summary this time because the full analysis deals with issues of consent both dubious and completely nonexistent, and with pregnancy, and I'm sure some of y'all are not going to be comfortable with that.

part one: cordelia couldn't give informed consent in chain of thorns

"Cordelia had heard things whispered among other girls…but she still had little idea what happened in the marriage bed." —Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron, pg. 110 in my copy.

"I will marry some other man, and he will know I was married to you. He will expect me to know how to kiss, and—do other things." —Cassandra Clare, Chain of Iron, pg. 363 in my copy

At no point after this is Cordelia shown to receive any kind of Talk whatsoever from anyone. The consent she gave in the scene in Chain of Thorns was uninformed. And uninformed consent is, surprise, not actually consent. Also, James knew this. He knew she didn't know anything. And he went ahead with it anyway.

part two: motherhood

Look me in the eyes and tell me that Cordelia Carstairs shows any indications in her canonical personality of being someone who wants to be a mother.

Firstly, she has a very busy, slightly wild, and yet also deeply disciplined lifestyle. Visits to the Hell Ruelle, hours of training, a deep emotional connection to the blade she wields, and a lifelong goal of being a hero. A merciful hero. She also takes two different partners in the course of the series (James and Matthew), suggesting in my eyes from the way in which she goes about this that potentially she might be open to polyamory. None of this is really a lifestyle conducive to babies. They take up too much time, too much money, and too much physical space. They're not conducive to polyamorous relationships where your partners aren't living under the same roof, you can't just leave them at one house to go stay with your other partner neither can you just shuffle them around with you when you move. And unlike Lucie, whose primary lifelong passion, writing, is something that can be done at home in the brief snatches of time when one is free, Cordelia doesn't have any hobbies that she could continue to do despite the sheer time that raising a child takes up. She'd have to give up everything but reading and playing chess and those are not enough.

Secondly, she watched in real time as her mother put aside everything, including her own mental health and wellbeing, to raise two children. She watched Sona give up the things she loved, choose to stay with an abusive husband, stop patrolling and fighting, and eventually waste away into a sickly hollow shell of herself. Her closest, most formative experience of motherhood paints it as a traumatic, exhausting, demoralizing, and restricting condition that forces you to give up your chosen lifestyle, your hobbies, and eventually your sense of identity and pride as an individual for the sake of your children.

I cannot, under these circumstances, imagine that Cordelia would find the idea of putting her own life aside for the sake of babies an appealing one. I imagine if you brought up children with her, the answer would be a resounding no. I can practically see the way she'd wrinkle her nose at the idea.

And yet, I don't see any other male Herondales forthcoming. If Cassandra Clare's canon is to be believed Cordelia must be the mother of at least one child so that the family line can continue.

Third. We know, as explained in part two, that Cordelia never received proper education and can't give informed consent. And James and Cordelia played very fast and loose with the concept of safety in the scenes we got in Chain of Thorns.

Is this what happens? Is this how we get a Herondale family line? Does Cordelia become a mother without consenting to it? I can't imagine she'd want to stay in that situation very long. I certainly cannot see her wanting to raise the child. I don't want this to be the case. I don't want to see her leaving James to raise his son alone while she escapes, hurt, to nurse her wounds and rage at him from somewhere safe. But unless we're given another Herondale like we got Alex for the Lightwoods, I don't see any happier ending for James and Cordelia.

part three: in conclusion All this to say, Cassandra Clare doesn't really understand Cordelia Carstairs. She created a character whose situation suggests she'd have no interest in motherhood, and then forced motherhood upon her. This is not the only time she's misunderstood Cordelia either. In Chain of Gold she's shown to be impulsive, but she's also shown to be a woman of action and anger, not a woman of passivity and tears. If Cordelia remained in character throughout Chain of Thorns, when she saw James and Grace in the foyer at the end of the book she would have come marching downstairs to demand to know Just what the hell is going on here? Instead, Clare chooses to have her…run away. Why? Because it gets her quickly to the next plot point, I guess. Despite the fact that this is decidedly not the Cordelia Carstairs that I know. And this isn't the only character she's lacked understanding of, or forced out of character for the sake of the plot. Cordelia and motherhood is simply the most grievous and, quite frankly, disturbing example.

"some issues a tsc fan sees in tsc" is an attempt to break down the unacknowledged things in tsc that i unearthed reading chain of thorns, rereading the rest of the series in preparation for it, and writing two longform fanfics (one of them a genderbent canon reworking) for the last hours. click on the "some issues..." tag to see more of these.

#some issues a tsc fan sees in tsc #tlh #tsc #the last hours #cordelia carstairs #chain of iron #chain of thorns #analyzing the last hours

[gatheredfates]

🎵 It's hard to choose an oc so dealer's choice! Pick one you're dying to share!

I thought about linking one of Sarrai's death-related songs but, on considering it, I thought that would make it too easy. It's pretty obvious on meeting her that she's obsessed with death, necromancy and bone collecting, but another huge part of her persona I love to explore is the horror associated with hypersexuality and femininity.

Sarrai as a character is seeped in femininity — she cloaks herself in a layer of pink and pastel that is disarming to people who first meet her; they think to themselves, 'oh, she's a young woman, she doesn't know any better' all the while, she has been tutored by her father to be a viper in the den. She plays on those preconceptions of femininity; that she must be darling, sweet, kind... but, in donning herself in pretty jewels, furs and makeup she must be naïve. There are characters, whether by their own volition or by how their players see the world, treat her like a bratty child... and she does nothing to assuage their opinion. She wants them to underestimate her — to think they can take advantage of her — because it makes it all the sweeter when she eviscerates them.

God make me pretty, you made me mean. Hate me because I'm beautiful; bitch, I don't like you either. Tell me how my ass tastes little bottom feeder!

With a lot of femininity, including traditional/pastel femininity, there is an undertone of innocence. Sarrai knows the horrors of the world in her own past; it is a deliberate choice for her to try and be 'palatable' in her conduct. So many people, however, try to push that down. They try to undermine her confidence, challenge her beliefs or condescend her because they're 'realists'. They see her focus on beauty and decay as strange and otherworldly. They don't think she takes it seriously, or that she is desecrating or being disrespectful. In spite of this, she will still try to be sweet and explain her stance until the point she realises there is no point, and then she will be cruel. She refuses to be underestimated because she chooses this line of femininity, though she is constantly bemused at how often that is the default. Either her innocence needs to be kept, or it needs to be ripped from her. There is no in between.

Sexy, cute, popular to boot Cup of Drano, lips turn blue Filler, snip and glue Am I fuckable enough for you?

There's a horror in that choice, right? If you play right into the pastel, pink 'cute' femininity, you have to accept that people will see you as a sex object. Sarrai knows this. She's also not opposed to it. But if you want to fuck her, you have to accept all of her — not pick and choose or try to mould her out of it. You have to look at the skulls on the walls and watch her wade through the muck of her mushroom collection and not be daunted by it. She has the filler, the snip and the glue because she wants it; she is mortified by the concept that other women might do it under the whim of a man. She knows, in the end, we're all going to die. What is the point of trying to appeal to a future corpse when she can live for herself and what she wants?

I'm not a girl, I'm a swarm of bees. Wrapped in a skinsuit, perfect teeth.

And that's like... the point, y'know? Femininity and sexuality deserve to be a choice: something personable that you feel, experience and give to the world; not something that is forced or expected of you. Sarrai is a girl, but she is also not a girl. She is beautiful and plays right into the concept of womanhood, but she is also just a meat sack with a bone interior like everyone else. It is important to her that she is no less feminine in high fashion sitting to her father's right than she is covered in muck after summoning a bone construct from a bog. They call it mother nature.

#｡･ﾟﾟ･ — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 : sarrai #i hope this makes SOME sense #femininity is horrific! #gender in general is horrific but like #you feel me

[bylerism-bible]

Category 5 Autism Event

(sorta long post)

Oops! I slipped and now I'm outlining a byler-centric Hunger Games AU

BUT it's super tragic and fucked up and I'm gonna hurt so bad writing it help me out and tell me if this is anything y'all

Key Alterations to setting:

no boy/girl pair gender restrictions on tribute selection

Some ages will be wonky compared to ST bc I need certain characters like Henry to be tribute age range, which will be set at 12-18

self contained plot not conducive to the original HG narrative but inspired heavily by it

set in a canon divergent Panem but not lore or history heavy

ST cast names are less whimsical and too traditional for what is lore-friendly in canonical Panem so I'll be ignoring the wild naming conventions of OG Panem for any BG OCs I need to bullshit on the fly

No spanning rebellion arc like in OG Hunger Games, but still a brutal hopepunk tragedy with themes of grief, finding something to fight for in hopelessness, community, love, and compassion (and also kicking ass when applicable)

Narrative parallels to original Hunger Games:

Katniss/Gale/Peeta | Mike/El/Will [not 1-1, slightly skewed or subverted in ways by El being a tribute, and by emphasis on Mike (Katniss) and Will (Peeta) being childhood best friends while El (Gale) and Mike (Katniss) meet spontaneously, which opposes the HG love triangle setup. Otherwise this parallel remains closely aligned due to Will's pining for Mike and his emphatic Peeta Coding among other things. Though I don't want them to be flat cut and paste to one another, they'll have their own characteristics that suit them in this setting). El and Mike will also fake a romance for appeal, which is adjacent but skewed from the original love triangle.]

District 11's emphasis on racialized classism and slavery parallels must remain intact

Other real world oppression parallels must remain intact

Premise/synopsis:

Mike is selected at the reaping, but Will immediately volunteers. Sensing that the two have a bond despite not appearing to be family, the authorities ask about their relationship and learn they're childhood friends.

Said authorities decide to send Mike and Will together for ✨ drama ✨ rather than to allow Will to replace Mike and take his place with another tribute– to their shared horror.

No matter how long they ally to one another, they'll be eventually expected to face one another to the death as well, if they live that long (They will). If they reach this point, what will happen if they refuse?

Will and Mike are immediately separated at the cornucopia but come back together later. While they're apart Mike allies with El, they play up a romance to accrue sponsor interest, but Mike secretly actually loves Will, and the the Capitol audience may just realize this eventually.

Tribute Pairs (by District):

1 - Henry (career*) (18) and Kali (18)

2 - Heather (17) and Billy (career) (18)

3 - Jason (career) (17) and Chrissy (17)

4 - Troy (career) (15) and James (career) (15)

5 - El (14) and Max (14)

6 - Eddie (19) and Robin (17)

7 - Steve (18) and Dustin (14)

8 - Tommy (18) and Carol (17)

9 - Andy (15) and Fred (17)

10 - Barb (17) and Vicky (17)

11 - Patrick (15) and Lucas (volunteer)(14)

12 - Will (volunteer)(14) and Mike (14)

*as a refresher for those who don't know or recall, Career in Hunger Games context refers to people who train their whole lives with the intent of winning the games by any brutality necessary, they also usually have been vetted a bit on how to be presentable for the Capitol. Careers are usually from districts 1, 2, 3, and 4 for regional class reasons, but can technically be from any of the districts under the right conditions. Technically training is against rules and in policy disqualifies tribute, but this is ignored constantly because in such a brutal system it's near impossible to find kids who don't have some survival skills and because it adds to drama.

Arena biomes: Forest, lake, ravine, cave systems

Mentees/Mentors:

Will and Mike - Murray Bauman

El and Max - Jim Hopper

Non tribute familial character POVs featured:

Joyce Byers

Nancy Wheeler

Erica Sinclair

With heartbreaking bangers such as:

Jonathan died in a previous Hunger Games

Lonnie forced both of his sons through some preparation for potential reaping, in abusive and cruel ways such as being forced to hunt when they were very young

While the family did need more food and it doubled as subtle "training" prep; it was traumatic and forced because Lonnie taught a cruel and abusive dog-eat-dog philosophy with it

Before Jonathan died as a tribute, Lonnie had left them spontaneously a few years prior, and this left only Joyce and Will to mourn his death

Once Jonathan died Joyce grew erratic and Will became isolated and hyper independent as a result, their relationship is loving but deeply disconnected without Jonathan

Mike's family is slightly more well-off than Will's in class for their district, as a result Mike takes food to Will's family on a regular basis and this is part of how they got so close

Mike and Will met in the woods as kids

Will not only has a decent chunk of combat, hunting, and survivalism prep because of Lonnie's abuse regime, but also has artistic prowess that assists him in camouflage (Peeta insp), AND he's a self taught science geek (esp mycology and botany aka identifying mushrooms and plants)

Mike trained himself in combat to a degree secretly from a young age, but he's not exactly gifted considering he never had a sparring partner, he's mildly proficient with wielding a machete or knife and he's somewhat versed in survivalist skills that he self taught or learned secondhand from Will (though Will is far ahead of him in bushcraft survival, Mike is a natural tactician and is good at building traps), AND he's a self taught science geek (esp physics and chemistry), has theatrical and dramatic masking skills that work to his benefit on TV

Lucas volunteered to save Erica and was allowed to replace her. For the integrity of the narrative concerning racism and associated oppression, Lucas and Erica's perspective will be occasionally shown as she watches Lucas progress and processes his journey, even if this story is byler centric. They deserve that, and it's in faith to the Hunger Games concerning such systems.

Mike and Will's reaping occurs as Nancy can only watch in horror. She'd volunteer herself, only it's too late and the authorities have settled on the story they want. Peacekeepers drag her away and she can only watch. Nancy was close to Jonathan before his death and was in love with him.

Once he has taken a life, Will struggles with the fact that in some ways Lonnie's cruel survival ideology makes sense, only to realize that it collapses upon further inspection, he then doubles down on his compassion and aversion to unnecessary violence while understanding that violence can still become necessary.

Know that this will be a brutal tragedy and most of the characters will die. I do however want to end on a note similar to the books themselves. Just don't set expectations for many to survive.

I will probably break your heart with this a lot, but I'll do my best to make it powerful and meaningful.

The story will touch on things like generational abuse, trauma, violence, fascism, classism, racism, other general forms of oppression, anti-capitalism, and more. It will not be pleasant; but if I write it, I promise I will make it move you and I will remain in good faith to the spirit of the Hunger Games. I don't want to risk it becoming tone deaf to the point of the Hunger Games Premise.

👉Lmk what y'all think of these notes (this isn't even all of them) bc I'm legitimately curious about who would be interested in reading it👈

It would probably become an insane amount of work so I need indication of interest for ✨motivation✨

#byler #byler endgame #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things #byler fic #byler au #hunger games au #crossover au #byler nation #fanfic

[raisinghellonstarbug]

OK so I just wished to express this because I don't do it very often but feel the need to right now, even though it's actually hard to do so and put into words so I'll do my best, hopefully without sounding too disgustingly fan girly...

Basically Sam Fender is someone who despite being from a whole different part of England to me, is someone who as a person alongside his music, I could not relate to anymore to than I already do.

I have had the privilege of being able to express my adoration a little and was shocked when he responded to me over Instagram last year, but man I don't think he would even know the half of it if I could actually tell him all of it in person.

I just know I would find it difficult, I would stutter because of nerves and he would probably find it too overwhelming and somehow I would probably make him feel uncomfortable because I am good at that, and I think there's a reason I haven't met my absolute favourite actors/musicians for this very reason 🤣🤣 but yeah I would struggle for probably an hour or two before I would eventually calm down and be able to chat to him like an actual fucking normal person!

So instead I am letting it out to this tumblr void and letting it be here for just my thoughts and for anyone who might be slightly interested.

Sam Fender is like a mind reader. Like he really feels like he knows my life for real. I mean similarities are definitely there where my parents struggled financially when I was a child. I had an estranged relationship with my dad for years despite choosing to live with him when I was 10. My mum walked out on us and I was broken for years. I got bullied at school for years as well and although it's called "Dead Boys", I was nearly a Dead Girl that couldn't be explained, except I just wanted to die at 17.

Seventeen Going Under was really the hitting point for me. I really was 17 and going under in life. I was a mess. And then Spit of You made me bawl my eyes out when I first heard it because those lyrics alongside the music video was just pure dynamite for me, like everything that I wish I could express, but he has done it better than me.

I've considered the music route and have been told I am a good singer and a good writer, but damn, did I struggle to keep myself motivated to teach myself guitar. I did ok but then kind of gave up on it because I didn't think I could get very far.. I was watching my dad have mental breakdowns almost everyday which clouded my motivations. I still consider sometimes whether I try and pick it up again and play at an open mic night. One day I might. The closest I have come as of late so far is on karaoke nights working at the pub and only then do I sing my heart out besides at home 😄

His political views are a part of it too. Our political system is fucked and he expresses that brilliantly too with Long Way Off and Aye. I mean Hypersonic Missiles and White Privilege as well but they're more worldwide explanations. The left (Labour) and right (Conservatives) don't appeal to me either way. We need a whole revamp.

Basically this fella from North Shields is like a gift to me and to many others. I just wish he could know this without me sounding like a creepy fucker. He's just awesome in general really and I guarantee that if I wasn’t so awkward with celebrities and could actually keep my cool when I usually can, I would happily have a good old chinwag with him, just talk about life and have a few bevvies.

I mean hell, the actual dream would be to duet a song with him ❤ he would play guitar and I would sing. It's not expected though and seems like such a long shot to ever actually happen, and while I saw him perform at Ally Pally in London in November 2021, I did not get lucky in catching him after the gig. Maybe one day I will but then he would probably be super famous by then. He definitely deserves all the attention anyway!

So yeah. That was what I was thinking about this morning of all things 😅

I love you Sam Fender, even though you have no idea who I am.

Peace,

Luna x

#ok i think this is too cheesy but oh well #sam fender #this took me a while to write because i needed to make it clear goddamn it 😆 #hypersonic missiles #seventeen going under #i love you sam

[carewyncromwell]

“Who is that girl I see staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don't know? Must I pretend that I'm someone else for all time? When will my reflection show who I am inside?”

~“Reflection (cover)” by Christina Aguilera 

x~x~x~x

Content Warning: mentions of gender dysmorphia, transphobia, self-harm, and body mutilation under the cut

Fancasting Bella Ramsey, Winona Ryder, and Adrien Brody as Eli Fawcett // tagging Eli’s friends’ players @sirfluffig​, @captainhowlreportingforduty and @cursebreakerfarrier​ because 💛

x~x~x~x

Cutting his hair was the first step. For a very long time, Fawcett had just tucked his long hair into a cap, when ere he went to Hogsmeade and played piano at the Three Broomsticks. If he dressed masculinely enough, people treated him the way he liked -- informally, without pretense: like he didn’t need coddling and wouldn’t take offense if someone swore in front of him. That was what Fawcett had assumed his weirdness came down to, in the beginning -- that he just hated protocol and lady-like fashion. But over time, the second-eldest Fawcett child came to see that wasn’t it. He didn’t just want to take off the clothes his grandmother picked out for him at the first opportunity -- there were times he wanted to take his breasts off, right along with them. When his voice came out so much higher than he imagined it being. When he caught himself frequently staring at his male friends’ Adam’s apples while they were talking, loving how much lower their voices had gotten and wishing he could sing that low. Then maybe he could actually join the Frog Choir and not feel strangely out of place...

But that haircut. It was done haphazardly in front of the bathroom mirror in his dormroom with a spare pair of scissors he’d nicked from the Muggle Studies classroom. (Fawcett didn’t trust himself to apply the Severing Charm right to this particular endeavor -- he could use it fine on the Dueling field, sure, but that was done in self-defense, not to cut his own hair.) It certainly wasn’t the neatest job, but it brought Fawcett some short-lived happiness. Even when he came down to breakfast dressed in his usual breeches and Gryffindor jumper and got a lot of confused expressions from his classmates for his unkempt short hair, he was too cheerful to do anything except for pour some extra marmalade on his toast. It was so nice to not have his hair in his face for a change...

From seventh year on, Fawcett stopped wearing dresses and skirts altogether. He solely wore men’s fashion, even when his father and grandmother vehemently disapproved. Some men found it oddly appealing, strangely enough -- Fawcett presumed it just marked him as “unique” among other ladies, which was considered attractive among some men he’d met. His best friend Cayde had even cited that once, hadn’t he -- how “attractive” it was that Fawcett stood apart from the rest? Not that Fawcett had ever wanted to “stand apart” like that -- he loved attention, certainly...but standing apart just because you can’t play the part everyone expects you to play? Because you can never be good enough for them -- can never make them happy, as you are? Didn’t seem like something to be proud of. 

It was the day Fawcett ran away that he took another big step -- he stopped introducing himself by his birth name. He’d had to buy a ticket to get on the ship heading to America, so he’d signed his name “Eli Z. Fawcett” on a whim, just as a placeholder. That “placeholder” endured for the rest of Fawcett’s life...and from that point on, people started calling Fawcett -- now “Eli” -- a “him” as well. It was bizarre, at first -- but despite himself, Eli liked not correcting them. It just made things a bit uncomfortable whenever his voice cracked, or when he had to try to explain the bloodstained bedsheets and clothing, or when someone saw him with his shirt off by accident. Those incidents had left Eli with a good chunk of scars -- the worst of which he’d inflicted to himself in the dark of depression, after a particularly long night of drinking. 

The morning after, Fawcett found himself in a hospital bed, his chest wound up in many, many thick bandages. He’d also been locked to the bed in handcuffs by the nurses, with the thought that he might be mentally unstable enough to hurt himself again. What was particularly notable, though, was the MACUSA witch who’d stopped by to see him. 

“You think ending up in a No-Maj health ward for using a Severing Charm on yourself wasn’t going to get any attention?” she asked. “My coworkers and I had to modify a couple dozen memories in this ward, just to make them not question what kind of knife you must’ve used.”

The petite lady looked down at Fawcett’s mutilated chest, her wrinkled face contorted with pity. 

“...You do know there are potions and Transfiguration techniques that can help with such transitions, don’t you?” she said softly. 

Eli gave an oddly cavalier smile. “‘Fraid not. Hogwarts doesn’t really focus much on Human Transfiguration, aside from changing hair color and such. Or maybe I just slept through that class -- I wasn’t exactly O-grade material, back in the day...”

The Obliviator regarded Eli with such pity that she insisted on at least helping him patch himself up, before leaving the Hospital. After a couple dozen “Salvio Hexia” enchantments and some Wiggenweld Potion, Eli’s chest was finally healed, though two very dark pink scars under his pectorals remained. The little old lady then proceeded to send Eli a list of ingredients to pick up, which could help him brew several potions to help with his transition. 

“My partner found these very helpful, when they were young,” the enclosed letter had said. “Take heart -- you’re a beautiful child, no matter what skin you’re wrapped up in. You deserve to be protected.”

The lady’s suggested methods sadly couldn’t solve all of Eli’s woes -- no potion gave him the voice he wanted, for instance...but over time, his body became less uncomfortable to live in. He was able to stave off the worst of the monthly bleeding, and even started growing hair on his chest. That was something that gave Eli a bizarre happy rush, upon discovering it.

The transition was a journey Eli didn’t think he’d ever truly finish to his satisfaction...but each little step forward still was something, and he resolved to enjoy each of them, however tiny and insignificant they probably were. By the time Eli had reforged connections with his old school friends and reached back out to his brother Enoch, he was himself, in a way he never had been before. He was comfortable in his own skin and more optimistic and resilient than ever -- for despite all of the pain, depression, and self-hatred he’d faced, Eli was determined to not unload that onto the entire world. He would be a ray of sunshine for others who needed it, no matter how fleeting both his act and he himself might be -- and so, in this similarly tiny, insignificant world, he could at least make some kind of a difference.

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #eli fawcett #about eli #graphics #tw: body insecurity #tw: body dysmorphia #tw: self harm

[christianlep]

Blog 28- 3/27

While I was reading Sensōron, I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the grizzly photos and the comical and well executed drawings to present the information Kobayashi attempts to instill in his readers. I read the manga first, but I could tell pretty early on that this was a right wing political cartoon that attempts to downplay Japan’s behavior leading up to WW2, and criticizes the “shell” it has become since the intrusion of America and other foreign powers into its cultural and governmental development. When realizing that this was intended for a younger audience and to portray an “alternate” history to mainstream textbooks in the late 90’s- early 2000’s, the catching art style and the play into emotions and “hard” facts begins to make sense. While reading, I kept an open mind and tried to listen to what Kobayashi says, and while I believe that some of the facts presented could be plausible, like the decapitation photo not being by the Japanese army, or the context behind the photo of Chinese girls with Japanese soldiers, other evidence presented was clearly not as grounded in fact, or appealed to circumstantial evidence. For instance, discrediting the photo of the Japanese soldier about to cut the Chinese soldier's head simply because of the intensity of the light during the day, and the non-winter clothing worn is very misconstrued, as he doesn’t consider that there are normal sunny days during winter. He also asserts that there are dissenters of Japan, such as Life Magazine, who he states that because there was a caption that didn’t include the word “Japan” in it, the Japanese army couldn’t have been involved, which is very much a stretch when presented simply by itself. 

I do believe Kobayashi presents some ideas that are true, such as the fact that his generation and the older generation are two distinct types of people, which is expected. Those born before WW2 and experienced WW2 were living under an imperialist society, in which the culture was built around serving the nation, warfare, and honor, and was naturally very strict and callous. After the introduction of democracy, a new culture would inevitably take over which the newer generations didn’t have to be subjected to the old traditions and in fact were given individualistic freedom, which resulted in a distinct line between generations. I also do believe that foreign powers, and political powers (although he was referencing the left-wing attempting to brainwash, he fails to observe that the right wing also engages in manipulation, which he does in this text) do enact in behaviors that benefit themselves, as is typical with every nation, and is a fact that stays true to this day. There were some points that Kobayashi were just wrong, such as trying to claim that Saddam Hussein was unjustly villainized, and that the comfort women were never raped, and instead made up stories to push a political agenda and just engaged in commerce.

[the-hindu-times]

Iliza Shlesinger

Hammermith Apollo 6/12/23

I can't imagine anyone likes going to the Hammersmith Apollo; a full body search (whether you're going to see The Muppet Christmas Carol or a solo stand up) and water confiscation, in the hight of illness season, which turned into a water ban, when none was available inside on this particular night.

The name up in lights on the outside of the veune building read "ILIZA LIVE IN LONDON". As if just a first name was enough, like Beyonce, Kylie or Rihanna. In their cases, you know what they do and they are famous enough to go under just their first name. In this case, maybe it did work out for the best that only her fans knew because if it had "comedy night" displayed, you would may have had people coming along, taking a punt but not understanding anything, if not apart of that one social bubble this show was aimed at.

Of course, everyone here tonight knew the sign was for American comedian and actress, Iliza Shlesinger. And, whether or not it's because her second name may be difficult for some to pronounce on first glance, she could well be the most famous Iliza in their lives, as the £41 unsold seats at the rear of the circle had to be compensated by her charging £88.75 for a selfie to a number of fans who snapped up the opportunity and were patiently waiting at the front of the stage after the show.

Like the most successful comedians, Iliza has stuck within the same genre, so fans know that she will pick up where she left off in the previous tour/Netflix show - people are coming to see the act.

With a two day break since her last gig (in Amsterdam), Iliza appeared on other comedians' podcasts and posted Instagram partnerships with beauty companies to help promote her brand further in the UK; working on whatever she could whilst on the tour. As a final push for merch sales, she wore her tour tshirt onstage, as she stumbled over lines, mixed up words and restarted sentences. With no stage set design at all, like in her previous special, it soon became clear that the stand up performance itself came second to everything else in her day. Whether she looked at it as a promo trip or holiday, with an hour's gig as something to do in the evening, most comedians would have wanted to have stayed sharp and iron out the lines by jumping on at a comedy club on their nights off - Top Secret would have been perfect for her, as it's the exact younger crowd her material is for. I'm sure she doesn't really believe that her generalisations are about the majority of people; she knows they're just about the majority of her audience, which is why broader observational comedians like Michael McIntyre, Romesh Raganathern and Josh Widdicombe can sell out multiple nights, whist her appeal falls short of the venue's capacity.

On the surface, it may seem like she's stuck in the Stone Age, or still believing that all girls want to be Barbie who are wanting to impress a Ken... but judging by tonight's audiance, those ethics are still in existence. Being preached at, in the form of comedy, that you don't have to comply with this, is quite worrying and enlightening; that this ideology, created within this group, is not something relateable from the outside, and hasn't broken out into other genres of people, races or religions. They will, of course have their own definitions of expectations and maybe have their own comedians to act as their saviour from their own inventions too. But if Iliza does fix them, what would her next comedy show be about?

Since segregation has returned to London, and the "diversity quota" meaning that people from different cultures can only live and work together if they fit into the same box, tonight's show felt more like a social commentary of this backwards step, where everyone is being forced to be identical - and this may be true in the selection of major cities she's touring, and why London was the only UK date.

Oh, and Iliza's also noticeably pregnant, just to rub her success in Luisa Omielan's face, a bit more.

Nic Bennett

[goboymusic]

Listening to “Bring Me To Life” by #Evanescence yesterday, I can confidently say it’s one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard, and it deserves every bit of praise that it has received.

Go for it. Screw what they think. You, everyone that knows you, and everyone that knows everyone that knows you will be dead in a few decades. If you want to try something outrageous, like posting songs about dicks on the internet, relax and give it a shot. Just don’t be stupid about it and get yourself fired (use an alias and don’t tell your acquaintances or whatever). That’s what “#GhostGirl” is about.

Maybe publicly humiliating yourself on a continual basis requires some masochism. Internet commentary is one thing. Posting non-satirical creative work for people to commentate on is another (YouTube videos, podcasts, music, artwork, writing, etc). You go into it with the understanding that people who are smarter than you are going to shred you with accurate criticisms, but you do it anyways, hopefully because you love it. If you post content with the expectation that people are going to regularly tear you a new asshole, you’ll never be surprised when they inevitably do.

The songwriting of “Ghost Girl” is a love letter of sorts to @blink182, my favorite musical group. The chord structures and melodies are meant to sound like something they’d use.

Seven months after the original version of “Ghost Girl” was completed, I reopened the old Logic Pro file for the song, deleted about 50% of it, and wrote new segments to fill those empty spaces. The original version had verse vocals that I couldn’t bear listening to, and the structure made my ears bleed, so the new version was well warranted in my mind. Overall, including production of both versions, the song took about 2.5 weeks to complete. Not bad, considering each song on GoBoy 6 took 30 days to complete, even without any hiccups.

I was dabbling in a raspy pop-punk vocal style for this song, something that would become more prevalent on GoBoy 6 and 7.

Watched #TheQueensGambit on #Netflix while mixing the vocals. Holy cow that show is amazing. During production, something entertaining is always playing in the background for extra brain stimulation, whether that be a movie, tv series, a video game play through, podcast, etc. Anything but music, because I can’t mix music while listening to other music (excerpts from post 87).

Beat + bass + melody. That’s the style of GoBoy 5. While I’ve appreciated this minimalistic style for years, “Tell My Mama (Song 42)” was the first time trying it. I went whole-hog with GoBoy 5, in which most songs primarily consist of a beat, bass and melody (excerpt from post 80).

For GoBoy 5, instead of creating for the sake of creating, like I did for GoBoy 4, I wanted to make poppier songs that would appeal to a larger audience. Was that goal accomplished? Well, maybe, I guess. It resulted in the song “In Love (Song 82),” which everyone and their mother seems to like (excerpt from post 79).

GoBoy 5 ragdolled me. I remember wondering if I’d live to see the completion of the album. While the style is minimalistic, the writing and production processes were chaotic, akin to throwing darts with a blindfold on. Most songs turned into a puzzle once they reached the mixing phase, with a portion of the pieces being destined not to fit. It required constant compromising - discarding segments, restructuring, rewriting, etc. The combination of the difficult production process and temporary chaos at work left a blood-soaked trail behind me (excerpt from post 80).

In April, 2021, almost all of GoBoy 3, 4 and 5‘s songs were restructured to be under 3 minutes (preferably under 2m 30s), including this song. I became okay with releasing songs around the 2 min mark after realizing The Beatles and The Beach Boys had some songs around that length. In an attempt to increase replay value in this streaming era, most of GoBoy’s songs are now purposely around 2m 20s (excerpts from post 37).

A bass boost was added to songs 37-99 in Nov, 2021, while I was stuck at home with covid. As a result, this song feels more powerful. The bass boost isn’t a simple plugin nonchalantly added to each song. It’s a process that took about 3.5 hours per song, or one whole month to complete all songs. Admittedly, I pushed the bass boost a little too far for some of them. The bass in some songs sounds like a freaking earthquake (unnecessarily pronounced low frequencies 20 - 50 Hz). Might dial that back someday. The bass boost was also applied to every song on GoBoy 6 and beyond (excerpt from post 37).

#GoBoy #Ghost #GhostGirl #88

[andypantsx3]

subtle | shouto todoroki/reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,171 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You're determined to track down the sender, certain it's a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

There was a box on your desk.

There was a box on your desk, and the sight of it was enough to instantly set you on edge.

The box looked normal enough, if a little fancy, maybe. Its lacquered top glinted brightly under the fluorescent office lighting, its smooth, polished sides waterfalling into the soft matte of your desktop underneath. You weren’t close enough to read the inscription, but you could just make out some elegant, curling script inlaid into the top of the box, possibly the name of whichever company had produced it.

The box looked very normal, in fact. Only, you knew it wasn’t. Boxes didn’t just show up in the middle of the Todoroki Hero Agency, a campus swimming with pros and armed with layers of security so deep it took even you--Shouto Todoroki’s manager--fifteen full minutes to get through screening every morning. It was something very much like being a prison guard at Tartarus.

So either this box meant the agency was dealing with a security breach the likes of which had scarcely been seen before, or someone had mistaken your desk for somebody else’s.

Which, considering it was Valentine’s Day, made a lot more sense.

Buoyed by the realization it wasn't a security risk, you crept closer, peering at the box, and the script resolved itself into the name of the extremely fancy chocolatier in Hiroo district that you made a point of drooling over every time you had to make a house call on Shouto. Their prices were literally insane, so you had never let yourself wander inside, unwilling to shell out an entire week’s pay for a tiny set of chocolates. Even if they did look absolutely fucking unbelievable from the window.

Your mouth watered.

That confirmed it--this was a Valentine's gift, and it was definitely a mistake. For the briefest of seconds, you’d wondered if maybe you had gotten obligatory office friendship chocolates, but this was too much. Some poor, love-sodden flop had gone out, spent their week’s pay on someone they were clearly very serious about, and then proceeded to fuck the entire thing up by plonking their gift straight onto your desk instead of their intended’s.

You frowned, quickly checking the box over for some kind of clue as to who had left it. There was no note included, nothing even mildly helpful that would give you the slightest hint of the person who'd left it here. Which left you with the question of how to return the box to the sender without knowing who they were, or how to pass it on to whoever they’d really meant it for.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, staring hard at the surface of the box like you could crack its code if only you glared hard enough. The box stared back at you, unhelpfully silent.

You were still skewering the box with your gaze some minutes later, determined to unravel its secrets, when a deep voice murmured from your doorway.

“You look puzzled."

You startled, whipping around to find Shouto propping up the wall, looking as unfairly handsome as usual. He was watching you intently, those heterochromatic eyes fastened to your face in that careful way he had, the one that always made you feel too warm and slightly unfocused. As usual, it was all you could do to remind yourself that you were a professional and he was something solidly between a friend and a coworker, and no matter how cute and attentive he was, you shouldn't get any ideas.

This morning, he was dressed in his hero uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, his distinctive hair only a little ruffled from his early patrol. It wasn’t often someone tried something in the districts he watched over anymore, probably too nervous to find themselves on the wrong end of the number four hero’s temper. You knew from the reports you received to your phone that the only trouble he’d encountered this morning was a pack of amorous school girls purposely misusing their quirks to draw his attention.

Thirty minutes ago, in fact, you’d almost spit out your coffee laughing at a photo of him looking wildly uncomfortable as he attempted to ice down some girl’s lava quirk with his right hand while fighting off her unfathomably enormous bouquet with his left. It was only right that he should suffer once a year, when every other day he got to stalk about as handsome as you please, oblivious to the effects his appearance had on every breathing person within a five mile radius.

You gave him an absent nod, gaze drawn back to the box on your desk.

“Somebody accidentally left something in here,” you told him, gesturing to it. “I’m trying to figure out how to track down who it was, or who it was meant for.”

Shouto made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a cough, and it was enough to startle you into looking up at him again.

“What?” you asked, peering at him. Was he coming down with something? It wasn't often he got sick, but when he did, he usually attempted to hide it and needed to be steamrolled into taking time off. You looked him over, trying to assess whether or not you needed to start badgering him now.

Shouto gazed back at you evenly, his expression deceptively bland. “...You think it’s not for you.”

You felt yourself blink at him, surprised by the comment and struggling to discern his meaning. What did he mean, you think it’s not for you? “Of course it’s not for me, Shouto, it’s from Grégoire Chardin.”

You knew he’d know the place, considering he lived in the same fancy rich people neighborhood as the chocolatier, but Shouto looked unimpressed.

“Why should that mean it’s not for you?” he asked, his tone dry.

The remark caught you off guard, as his comments sometimes did, and you bit down something like a smile. Bless his sweet, oblivious, rich boy heart. Either he overestimated your appeal to his agency staff, or he really did not understand the concepts of cost and return on investment.

“It’s expensive, it’s not something you would give someone as obligatory chocolates,” you explained, watching as a white eyebrow went up. His expression sharpened into something you couldn’t read well.

“It could be a secret admirer,” he said.

You stared blankly back at him, absolutely floored by the idea.

He thought you had a secret admirer? The idea sent an excited thrill all the way down to your toes, but you quickly squashed the feeling. So far, you'd never been on the receiving end of any furtive but romantic gestures, and you really didn't get any interested vibes from anyone in the office, no lingering glances or excuses to spend more time with you. The person who paid you the most amount of attention was Shouto, which was to be expected, considering how closely you worked together. And obviously he wasn't interested, he was just happy to stand in your doorway spouting wild conspiracies about his agency staffers like they were completely reasonable things to say.

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he took an intent step forward into your office. “Is the point of a secret admirer not to be exactly that--secret? How can you be sure?”

You couldn’t help it--you gaped at him, your face going weirdly warm. Okay, was he--was he serious? You obviously weren’t the most unfortunate creature on earth, and you even had your good days, but nobody in their right mind was going to attempt anything with you when there were girls like Nejire Hado and Ibara Shiozaki roaming the hallways of his agency. Even several of the analysts and most of the support crew had you beat out in terms of appeal--literally bless this man for his obvious indifference to your appearance.

“I, uh--thanks for your confidence in me,” you said, fighting down a laugh. “But I assure you, it definitely wasn’t meant for me. I just have to figure out who left it and who they meant it for.”

Shouto shifted impatiently, like he was waiting for something.

“You’re so certain,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“Of course I am,” you waved at him vaguely. It was actually super cute that he thought you could net yourself a dude who was willing to shell out Grégoire Chardin dollars, but you were just wasting time now, lingering over the least important part of this entire affair. “Listen, Shouto. I know sometimes men talk in the locker rooms. If you--if you hear anything, will you let me know? I just want to return it, it looks way too good sitting here.”

It was actually taking all your willpower not to open it and avail yourself of Japan’s finest chocolate, considering you would never have another opportunity like this again. Maybe you should just pretend it was for you....Really, no one could fault you for opening something left in your own office. But...no. No, you knew better.

Shouto appeared indifferent to your internal struggle. He watched you for a long moment, his features impassive. “Under one condition,” he finally allowed.

You cocked an ear to show you were listening, rifling around with the paperwork on your desk to distract yourself from the chocolate. You were strong, a good person. You had willpower like steel. You did not need to eat it, no no no.

“If no one comes looking for it by the end of the day, you will open it,” he said, moving closer.

You glanced up at him, shocked. “Shouto, this is someone else’s gift,” you hissed. “I can’t just open it.”

He placed a large palm down on your desk, leaning over you slightly. “That is my bargain.”

“You want me to steal somebody’s shit in your own agency,” you accused him. You tried not to pay attention to how close he had gotten, how straight his nose was up close, the way his eyes seemed brighter and his mouth pulled into a pout almost too pretty for a man.

The rest of his expression slipped into something like annoyance, matching his pout. “If no one comes for it, then it must be evident that it was meant for you.”

You suppressed a derisive laugh. Now was not the time to get shirty with your own boss, especially when his delusions were kind of sweet. It was honestly just short of a miracle that a man who looked like Shouto did could possibly think anyone on earth would have a thing for you, regardless of his own tastes.

“What if they’re just too shy to ask for it back?” you asked, watching those heterochromatic eyes flick over you curiously.

“If it’s as expensive as you say, someone will come looking,” he said. Which was actually kind of annoyingly reasonable.

A smirk flitted across his maddeningly perfect face when you failed to come up with another argument. He had a point, and he knew it.

You let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m certain someone will come looking for it. Please be subtle when you’re gathering info, okay? I'm sure this is embarrassing for whoever made this mistake.”

Shouto looked almost offended. “I am perfectly capable of being subtle,” he intoned in his deep voice.

This time, you did laugh. He was quiet, maybe, very perceptive, and unobtrusive when he wanted to be, but no one had ever accused the man of possessing tact. “Yeah, okay. Just, try to channel more subtlety than you think you need, okay? No one else but the sender needs to know about the mix up.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shouto was leaning over you more fully, eyes glittering strangely as his clean, fresh scent met your nose. You froze in your chair, brain going horrifyingly vacant as he leaned impossibly nearer. What the fuck was he doing?

“It will be like I’m not even asking,” Shouto promised, his voice light. “Not asking anyone at all.”

You tried to scrape your thoughts back into something resembling order, but the effort was all but futile. You needed to get him out of your space stat before you embarrassed yourself.

”Okay, then it’s a deal,” you said quickly. “Now go...flambé a villain or something.”

Shouto lingered for a long moment, his mouth curling a little at the corner, like he was being let in on a secret you couldn’t hear. His eyes brushed over you, almost like a physical touch. And then he was gone, pulling open the door to your office, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“You will see,” he said by way of farewell. “You will find out how subtle I can be.”

You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t explain himself. He just smirked, and closed the door behind himself.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shouto todoroki x reader

[lacheri]

follow me

I do not consent or allow this to be posted on Tik Tok, or any other social media

pairing: switch!Eren and switch!fem bodied reader

content: college au, OnlyFans/sex work, masturbation (m), praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, drug and alcohol use, classic college party, Eren is down horrendously bad, I believe in long haired Eren supremacy, minors DNI

summary: when jean finally convinces eren to crawl out from under his rock to join society on instagram, he finds there’s a whole lot more than just pictures of food. there’s you.

wc: 15.4k (I know it’s a long one, hope you enjoy tho)

Eren Jaeger had recently found himself in a very, very deep hole. It all started innocently, when one of his best friends Jean had convinced Eren to crawl out of his hole and create an Instagram to join society.

“C’mon Eren,” Jean had teased over a week ago as they studied out on the lawn of their school. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. No one even uses Facebook anymore, it’s all for moms who want to brag about little Timmy’s genius for figuring out one plus one equals two.”

“What do you even do on Instagram?” Eren’s brows knitted together in confusion, Jean whipping his phone out to show Eren exactly how to use it.

“You post pictures,” Jean navigated to his profile, tapping and sliding down to show Eren all of Jean’s shameless selfies.

“Of just yourself?” he breathed, not comprehending the appeal at all. Don’t people look at his face enough?

“Well, you can post anything you want, that’s the beauty of it. Plus, when you’re not doing that, you get to see and like other people’s pictures.”

“But it says here you follow, 1,536 accounts? And you have 5,000 following you back?” Eren asked incredulously, surprised about how popular his friend’s online persona was. “How do you even know that many people?”

“You don’t,” Jean shrugged, making a few taps to his home page as posts began to load up. “Celebrities have Instagram, our friends have Instagram, fuck, every attractive person on the entire planet has one.”

“How do you even find these people?” Eren’s questioning never seemed to end, the concept out of his comprehension. Facebook was one thing, he personally knew every single one of his friends and family there, and honestly he really enjoyed people just talking about their day to day ordeals.

That’s when Jean forced Eren to hand his phone over and download the app. Jean snapped a quick picture of Eren, to which Eren had no reaction time to. Before he could protest, Jean had already uploaded the candid with some random song lyrics as the caption. To be honest with himself, Eren had to admit that Jean had taken a very flattering picture. He had his knee brought to his chest while his arm dangled over, back slumped and relaxed while he sat on the blanket they had set down before lounging there, hair in his signature sloppy man bun. It was mid day, so all the shadows casted behind his body as the sun’s rays illuminated every high point and contrast of his stoic face.

After a few follow backs from his friends, Armin and Mikasa, he had accumulated a few dozen likes, and Eren couldn’t help the feelings of instant gratifications wash over him, “Okay? So, now what?”

“Now,” Jean began to instruct him, putting the phone back in Eren’s hands after showing him the basics of social media. “Go to my page, and start following whoever you want from my following list. There’s some really hot girls.”

And when Eren laid in his dorm bed that night by himself, he did just that. He really didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of showing him who he followed, or why he decided to. His finger scrolled and scrolled through the following list on Jean’s Instagram, hitting the follow button on a few bands he really enjoyed. But then, his hand stopped at one username in particular. The avatar showed a pretty girl, smiling brightly into the camera, sun’s golden rays blooming behind her hair.

Eren tapped on the username, and the first thing he took note of was the bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas and rock and roll’, he had to smirk at that, what a simple sentence to sum yourself up with. His eyes flickered to the link in her bio, titled, OnlyFans. He titled his head, Jean hadn’t mentioned what OnlyFans was? Did everyone have an OnlyFans too, like Instagram? He tapped on the highlighted link to be met with a page of prices. What the fuck was so exclusive about it that he had to pay ten dollars for a single picture? As he scrolled down a bit more, he noticed the pricing rising to the final payment cost.

“200 dollars for a personal Snapchat and to talk to me every day?” he read aloud, mouth open in disgust. “What the fuck is this?”

He hit the done option in the upper left corner, returning to the Instagram page in question. He tapped on the first photo, the girl’s back facing the camera, completely bare as her hair trickled down the center. She was sitting in a pretty pink bath, floating flowers all around, staring out a window, captioned, ‘wishing you were here’. His gaze lingered on the dips of her waist, before scrolling down to see the girl in some more clothing. This one was a much prettier picture, glasses set on the brim of her nose while she sat comfortably at a wooden table in a library. She stared directly into the camera, a pretty smile on her face while her hands sat perched under her chin. Some books were open on the table, and Eren took note of the quilted skirt peeking out from the under the bottom, her knees tightly crossed. ‘finals week is going to be the death of me, thank the universe for coffee’.

Eren back tracked out of the photo after double tapping, trying to drink in a comprehensive idea of what exactly people were paying so much money to see. He scrolled, and landed on his answer. The girl sat on a stool, phone angled in the mirror to take in her frame, wearing nothing but black lingerie and heels with a smirk on her face, the caption simply, ‘follow me on OnlyFans, link in bio’.

‘Hey Jean, what’s OnlyFans?’ Eren typed a quick text to his now mentor, patiently waiting as three bubbles appeared from his friend’s end.

‘Lol I see what you’re using Instagram for now, Jaeger’, was Jean’s only reply, and Eren could feel himself getting frustrated. Before he could type back an angry text, those bubbles popped up once again. ‘It’s basically porn, you pay for people’s pictures and videos’.

‘Why would someone want to do that? It’s free almost everywhere else’.

‘Because, young grasshopper, girls are hot and I’m trynna see some titties’.

Eren rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. Deducing that Jean was obviously one of these paying customers, Eren felt a little more secure in himself as he tapped the follow button on the girl’s page. What he wasn’t expecting though was a notification informing him she had followed back, followed quickly by another one liking his only post. Eren couldn’t hold back a blush, heart thumping in his chest. Did this girl think he was good looking?

The thought didn’t sit for long as yet another notification popped up, this time a comment. The girl had simply put a heart eyed emoji, followed by a fire emoji. Eren retreated in haste back to her profile, analyzing every picture and caption.

That had been a month ago, and now Eren had a full blown addiction to the website, more specifically her Instagram. Eren was even paying for her OnlyFans now, making excuses that the money he spent would be used for coffees and lunches anyhow, and he really had to nip his caffeine addiction in the butt so he might as well spend his cash on her.

She had just posted a photoset, one of many on her page, completely naked aside from a gold necklace adorned on her neck, a simple initial of ‘E’ rested prettily on her collarbone. It was like she knew Eren was devouring her social medias on a daily basis. It was all for him, Eren had concluded. There was no coincidence that she had followed and liked his own page, it was all fate and meant to be. Eren had figured out how to DM someone, thanks to Jean showing him how to during one of their classes, and he had taken full advantage of the girl’s inbox. Unfortunately with no reply or read receipt to even prove she had received his messages, introducing himself and showering the girl with compliments. Oh, Eren was down bad. He even brought himself to pay out the $50 tier on her OnlyFans for the month, tired of entering his card information for every daily post.

His dick twitched hard as he drank in her form, curvaceous and beautiful and feminine. It wasn’t even like he just wanted to fuck her either, if he needed relief like that he’d just hit up one of the handful of girls he had saved in his contacts. Eren Jaeger wanted to take this girl out on a fucking date. They had so much in common, they were practically soulmates. She liked and followed all the same bands Eren did, posted on her stories all about her favorite foods and her zodiac sign. While he didn’t really believe in that shit, his Google search history of checking if Aries was compatible spoke to something completely different.

And then Eren began noticing something. How the library she frequently posted pictures in was the same library on campus. All the restaurants she went to were in an hour radius of him, half of them being his usual hangout spots. She lived locally, which thoroughly surprised him. Had he seen her around before? No, definitely not, he would’ve definitely remembered her pretty face. None of the girls that he knew looked like her, and if Eren didn’t know what a woman’s body felt like, he would’ve sworn her body was made of plastic.

Eren was practically an expert at Instagram now, and had plenty of opportunities to follow other beautiful women, but he chose not to. He felt guilty one night as he maneuvered through another pretty girl’s pictures, quickly retreating back to the comfort of his favorite girl’s instead. This was one of the reasons Eren had fought getting online for so long, whenever he found something he liked, he got obsessive.

His attention was drawn back to her naked photos, and he slipped his hand under the fabric of his sweatpants as he began to fuck his fist to her pretty image. All for him, he panted as he imagined what she would look like in front of him, beautiful and begging for his touch.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled graciously at the Starbucks employee in front of you, taking your large iced coffee from his hands.

“No problem, have a great day!”

You tossed your hair behind your shoulder as you turned around, the smile still vibrant on your face. Today was a good day, you decided almost as soon as you woke up. After studying for finals for nearly two weeks straight, you finally had a day off to enjoy yourself. Your best friend, Sasha, had convinced you to go on a small shopping day with her. You eagerly agreed that morning, toothbrush forgotten in between your teeth as your fingers rapidly tapped away to schedule a time. You were running out of sexy outfits for your OnlyFans content, and frankly, you really need some new summer clothes. Spring was drawing to a close, and you couldn’t just wear hoodies and leggings all year round, no matter how much you wanted to.

The mall was about two blocks away from the Starbucks, and as you chugged down your coffee, you slid your phone out of your back pocket of your jeans to see multiple notifications from Instagram. Just more people liking your posts, and some DMs, but you just rolled your eyes. You got tired of explaining on your stories that they were broken, and Instagram had no intent on trying to adjust it so you’d be able to view your messages and reply. You sighed, slipping it back into your pocket as you made your way through the entrance of the shopping mall.

Sasha was seated at a table in the cafeteria near the entrance you had just walked through. She jumped out of her seat, a wide smile on her lips as she strutted up to your form.

“You ate without me?” you pouted, smelling the leftover scent of pizza wash over you.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m still hungry,” Sasha waved her hand. This girl had the fastest metabolism of a person you had ever met, so her statement didn’t really phase you.

“Okay, so, before I spend all my money and forget, we have to go to the lingerie shop,” you stated, stomping your way to the escalators.

“I’m guessing your OnlyFans is doing good?” she asked, knowing just how expensive this certain store was as she lingered behind you.

“Dude, you literally wouldn’t believe it,” you sighed dreamily. “If I had known how much money I’d be making, I would’ve done it way sooner. You should seriously consider making your own.”

“Nah, I’ll just let you have the spotlight on this one,” she snickered as the both of you stepped on the moving staircase. “Are they all creepy old men?”

“No, surprisingly, there’s a few people I have classes with that follow me,” you gossiped. “You know Jean from economics?”

Sasha nodded, eyes widening, “No fucking way, he’s my friend! I’m not that surprised though, he’s always talking to girls and asking for their Instagrams.”

“He’s never even talked to me, right? But he buys every single post I put out! Which is crazy, considering it’d just be cheaper for him to buy the subscription,” you shrugged, stepping off the escalator and walking shortly afterwards into the lingerie store. “That’s what most my viewers do, anyways.”

“Seen anyone else interesting?” Sasha hummed, eyeing the various garments surrounding her in intrigue.

Your eyes honed in on a strappy bright red one piece, “Just a few of his friends, I think. One of them is pretty cute, actually, but he’s only got one picture up.”

“You talking about Eren?”

You nodded, eyes lighting up, “Yeah, do you know him? I’ve never seen him around campus before.”

Sasha was beginning to plot, “Yeah he usually hangs out with Armin and Mikasa, but he goes to a lot of house parties. You know, actually, I think Jean is throwing one soon. He rented a cabin for after finals, you should come!”

“Won’t that be weird?” you scrunched your face, picking up the red one piece and moving onto the next garment that caught your eye. “Like I said, I’ve never even talked to him.”

“Yeah but you know Mikasa and me,” she raised her thumb towards herself. “Eren will be there too.”

“All I said was that I thought he was cute, Sasha,” you laughed her off. “But I’ll think about it. Text me the details and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”

“Something tells me Jean would be very happy to see you there,” Sasha chuckled, you giggling in response to her suggestive comment. The two of you picked through the selection of skimpy clothing, taking it up the cashier to check out.

You walked out of the store together, giggling over small banter. Your trip to the mall was quick after that, and in the end you held a grip full of medium sized paper bags, walking outside the mall with Sasha.

“Oh, hey!” Sasha suddenly quipped, placing her bags on the sidewalk, pulling her phone out of her crossbody bag. “We should take a picture!”

“Sasha I’m not even wearing lipstick,” you half heartedly complained, getting ready to pose next to your best friend.

“Literally, you’re so fucking hot,” she deadpanned, turning her head to look you directly in the eyes. “Shut up and get in, bitch.”

You threw your head back in laughter, leaning in on the left side of her frame, pushing your hair framing your face behind your ear. You smiled widely while Sasha did the same, hearing a soft click of her phone, indicating the photo was taken. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, bringing it out to see a notification stating she had posted it to her story. You’d repost it to your story later after you grabbed food, you decided, the conversation turning to the topic of where the two of you would eat before heading back to your apartment to get drunk in celebration of your semesters ending.

Eren and his two friends sat crowded in Jean’s dorm room bathroom, passing around a blunt. He could hear Connie coughing harshly as it was passed to Eren, the boy taking a deep drag of the backwoods cigarillo. Exhaling slowly, Eren brought his phone out of his hoodie pocket to open it up to change the song playing, his phone instantly opening to Instagram.

Distracted now by his favorite obsession, he glanced at the stories section, her name front in the line, glowing in that now familiar pink and purple circle. Eren couldn’t have tapped faster, and when he did, his mouth hung open.

“Yo,” Eren spoke loudly, shoving his phone in Jean and Connie’s faces. “Sasha knows this girl?”

“Yeah, they’re like best friends,” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t know her?”

“No, I just saw we had mutual friends,” Eren’s eyebrows knitted together. “How come we’ve never hung out with her before?”

“I don’t know actually,” Jean said, exhaling the blunt after it was passed to him from Eren’s fingertips. “I had a class with her this semester, she seems nice.”

“You’re only saying that because she’s hot,” Connie chuckled. “I bet you’ve never even talked to the girl.”

Jean’s face ignited in a fierce blush as he found interest in the ceiling tiles, “Shut up. It’s harder to talk to girls than it looks. You should know that, Connie.”

“Hey! I talk to girls!” Connie leaned up from his seated position on the floor.

“Idiots,” Eren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Neither of you have any game.”

“Not all of us are as gifted as you are, Eren,” Connie protested, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You could talk to a fucking mouse and it’d figure out someway to talk back.”

Eren rolled his eyes again, harder this time, “You just talk to girls like they’re human beings, it’s not that fucking hard.”

“Oh yeah? Betcha’ won’t be saying that whenever you see that girl around,” Jean teased, finally passing the blunt to Connie in the rotation, Connie muttering something about hogging it.

Eren shifted uncomfortably on the closed toilet seat, “Whatever, Jean.”

“Speak of the fucking devil!” Jean shouted, scaring the very high pair of boys at the suddenness. “Sasha just texted me asking if she can bring her this weekend to the cabin!”

Eren’s heart erupted into a flutter of uneven beats, his face heating up. This girl he had been drooling over was going to be at a party, with him? He suddenly felt like a teenager, the idea of seeing his precious addiction face to face giving him full blown anxiety.

Soft thuds of the bass of the stereo filled the room, catchy pop music drawing Eren out of his stupor to gaze hastily around the room, searching.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Armin had asked him, drawing his attention away once again. “It’s been an hour since the party started and you’ve barely drunk anything.”

Taking note of the full red solo cup in his hand, flickering his gaze between the liquid and his best friend, Eren shrugged and tipped the rim back in his lips, opening his throat and taking large gulps until the cup was empty. “Happy?”

Armin laughed loudly, although only having two strong drinks, his best friend was beginning to feel the numbness of intoxication, “You’re really out of it tonight, everything alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just waiting for the smoke sesh so I’m not cross faded,” Eren smirked, lying easily. “Last time I got too drunk and decided to rip Jean’s bong, I woke up in some random front yard with one shoe on.”

Armin shook his head in disbelief, “You really need to start making better life choices, Eren.”

Eren shook the empty solo cup in front of his friend, “I’m trying here.”

Truthfully, the reason Eren wasn’t halfway to getting shit faced was because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the girl of his dreams. She still hadn’t shown up yet, and Eren was getting anxious that she wasn’t going to show. Sasha and Mikasa hadn’t shown up yet either, which gave him a resemblance of hope that the three of you were together, and on your way currently to the party. His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage as he heard the jingle of the front door turn, and his attention was fully concentrated on the door frame ahead of him. His jaw dropped at the sight, his breath caught in his throat.

You asked Sasha earlier that day what you should wear to the party, and Sasha had just waved and told you whatever you felt looked the best. Not exactly helpful, you had just decided on black ripped jeans and a low cut shirt, paired with your favorite leather jacket and trusty Vans. You felt incredibly undressed as Sasha drove to Mikasa’s house, watching her modelesque frame saunter out her front door towards the back car doors.

“Mikasa, you could make a paper bag look hot,” you showered her with appreciation, her face blushing in response as she tugged her long sleeved body con dress towards her knees. “Fuck, should I have worn a dress? How nice is everyone else dressed?”

Sasha couldn’t have given two fucks about how she dressed in front of her friends, adorned in blue skinny jeans and a causal crop top, although her face was beat to the Gods, “Shut the fuck up, you’re one to talk about making paper bags look good. Besides, knowing the boys they probably made minimal effort, probably all wearing sweatpants.”

The three of you snickered at this, and Sasha pushed the car into drive and set out on your 45 minute journey into the mountains. Nerves hadn’t set in until you were face to face with the cabin door, nervous that the girls’ friends weren’t going to like you. Putting a brave face on, Mikasa grasped the door knob and pushed it open, the three of you gliding in.

Eren honestly had wanted to drop down to his knees and kiss the ground you walked on. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Your eyes were searching, for what neither of you knew, until your eyes had finally landed on him. You smiled politely, moving your hand up in a quick wave to both him and Armin.

Eren couldn’t fathom moving any single part of his body, so awestruck by you. Jean shook Eren out of his dumbstricken state with a hard pat to his shoulder, “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Eren?”

“Fuck off, horse face,” Eren spat, trying to will himself to either make strides towards you or to break his gaze, neither working. “Why don’t you?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled wickedly, inspired by liquid courage to lock arms with Eren and force him closer to the trio of girls that had finally made their appearance. Armin followed behind, Connie emerging out of the bathroom to give his hello’s to his best friend Sasha and company.

Eren could hear his heart beat in his ears as he stopped right in front of you, forcing his mouth closed in a tight lipped grimace. He felt like a fucking teenager with a crush.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, smiling widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Armin spoke up, oblivious to his friends’ reaction to the fresh pretty face of yours.

Jean and Connie wouldn’t admit it, but they were feeling their own nervousness. Jean’s out of guilt as he scanned your body top to bottom, Connie’s natural shyness kicking in due to the newcomer. Both were able to overcome it though, and offer up their own introductions. Your eyes landed on Eren once again, tilting your head, waiting for his intro.

“I’m Eren,” he swallowed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you looked down, smiling softly. You raised your hand then, looking up at the boys in front of you, revealing a handle of vodka. “I brought a gift with me too!”

“My kinda girl!” Jean spoke just a bit too enthusiastically. “Shots, shots, shots!”

Connie pumped his fist, chiming in, the rest of the party joining as well as the crowd made their way into the kitchen. Eren purposely hung back, trying to keep as close to you as possible.

“You happen to bring any chasers with you?” he had leaned in, tickling the side of your head with his breath.

“No, I totally forgot,” you sheepishly admitted.

“Looks like we’re all gonna get plastered then,” he chuckled smoothly, sending goosebumps down your body.

“Is it really a party then if at least one person doesn’t have their head in a toilet?” you had easily quipped back, feeling more comfortable now that the introductions were out of the way.

Eren hummed in half hearted agreement, feeling slightly more relaxed himself. Besides, his attention was being grasped by the plastic shot glass being shoved in his hand, as well as your dainty one. The group held up the shot glasses, a few phone cameras capturing the moment to post on their stories, and you all swung your heads back to allow the bitter liquid to trickle down your throats. Eren made a mild face, taking a stolen glance at your own to see your grimace, sticking your tongue out in disbelief at the taste.

Another hour had passed by, and Eren was running out of reasons to follow you around the cabin as you shifted between conversations to get to know the group of friends better. You hadn’t really noticed him trailing behind you, nor did you really care because you were very quickly warming up to Eren. It also didn’t hurt that he looked exceptionally better in person. His hair was lazily swung into a half top bun, wearing a couple of gold chains with his white tee tightly hugging his torso, tucked seamlessly into black ripped jeans displaying his muscular knee caps. Eren was definitely a looker, you shifted your gaze up to his face as he made some witty comment to Sasha, his eyes flickering to your face to catch your reaction.

“Oh my god, there was this one time,” Sasha spoke your name. “She had gotten so high during last year’s spring break, and the two of us and Mikasa came up with the brilliant idea of becoming one with nature. So, naturally, we ran to Walmart and bought this tent on clearance. Turns out it was made for kids, so none of us actually fit inside when we got back to Mikasa’s house. Mikasa and I curled up in a ball, surrounded by snacks, and this smart girl over here decided it was the best choice to just lay out on the lawn and pass out.”

“I wanted to watch the sun rise!” you laughed, trying to quickly explain yourself to Eren’s amused smirk. “And the grass was just so nice that night!”

“The grass was basically straw,” Sasha countered teasingly. “Twenty degrees outside, absolutely freezing. She was MIA for like a week afterwards with a cold.”

You shrugged carelessly, “Worth it.”

Now the two of you had sleeping on lawns in common? Eren scoffed inwardly. Yup, it was official, you were his soulmate. Still though, the topic of why you were so casual in person while your naked pictures existed online tickled his thoughts. He was hoping that somehow it’d get brought up naturally in conversation, saving himself the embarrassment if you were to get offended by his questioning. So far it seemed you liked him, not having said a word about him trailing after you like a lost puppy. Jean had been sending him knowing looks all night, Connie shooting two thumbs up at Eren while Armin looked on in confusion.

Mikasa had strolled out of the bathroom finally, joining the trio who stood casually in the living room, simply stating, “I’m starving. You guys think they deliver pizza out here?”

Sasha’s eyes widened in excitement, “I don’t care if it takes an hour to get here. We’re ordering right now.”

Already ahead of the two, your phone was pulled out in your hands to open up the Dominoes app, punching in the location of the party and placing the order online. Eren watched this all, peering over your hands to see the total.

“Guys, we should chip in,” Eren called out, grabbing the boys’ attention. “We’re ordering pizza.”

“No, no!” you protested, confirming the order. “It’s really fine, my treat.”

“But that’s really expensive,” he frowned, the group all joined together in the living room.

“Don’t worry, she’s got that OnlyFans money,” Sasha waved off Eren’s concern.

“OnlyFans?” Armin questioned, darting his eyes in between Sasha and you. “What’s that?”

Jean hid his blushing cheeks and your eyes flickered to him, then back to Armin, “I sell naked pictures online.”

“So what, a bunch of old guys give you money?” Armin had asked innocently, not judgemental in the slightest.

You giggled, relieved he wasn’t asking in a demeaning manner, “Actually, you’d be really surprised about who you know follows me. There’s a lot of people from school.”

Eren’s blood ran cold as he felt a sudden onset of embarrassment. Did that mean you had known this entire time Eren was one of these followers? If you did, you didn’t let on to it, smiling shyly as the questions ended. Eren hadn’t been done with the conversation, but pride from exposing himself in front of his friends kept his mouth shut.

It was around one in the morning when the party was at its peak. Sasha was being held up by her legs by Connie as she did a keg stand, you and the group cheering the girl on in your own drunken hazes. She tapped the large can, indicating she was finished, Connie settling her down on solid ground as she belched loudly.

“That was fucking awesome, Sasha!” you giggled, throwing your arms up and around her. You were definitely feeling the shots you had been feeding yourself all night, holding your red solo cup high above the girl so it wouldn’t slosh on her.

“You should totally try it!” she encouraged devilishly.

You pouted then, taking a moment to consider, “I’ve never done a keg stand before, what if I can’t do it?”

“I’ll help you!” Eren all but pounced on the opportunity, your smile turning into a tipsy giggle. “It’s not that hard, you just keep chugging until you can’t anymore. I’ll hold you, you got this.”

You lightly blushed, nodding your head at the encouragement, bringing a fist to your chest as a salute, “I’ll do it! We gotta’ put on a cool song though, if I’m going to fail miserably I might as well have a good song to do it to.”

Mikasa volunteered, as she was already DJ, having the best music taste out of everyone in the group. She dug her phone out of her pocket, switching over to a ‘Pursuit of Happiness’ remix. Connie whooped at the choice, and everyone began to chant your name as you hovered by the keg, very nervous. Eren then placed his large hand on the small of your back, leaning in to reassure you once again. You gulped, nodding that you were ready to get into position.

“Okay, so you’re going to lean your arms on the top of the can, and I’ll grab your legs. Like when you were a kid and you’d do that stupid wheelbarrel thing,” Eren easily explained, chuckling lightly. “Use your hands to let me know when you’re done.”

You did as you were told, resting your upper body against the keg as Eren hooked his arms around your calves. He couldn’t help but admire how strong your legs felt in his grasp, and how right it felt to finally have some bodily contact. He had been trying to figure out a natural way all night, and he was bubbling over in excitement, the chance had arisen, glorious in the promise of touch.

You placed your lips hesitantly around the tap, opening it up into your mouth, and began to chug. ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ was chanted all around you, even Mikasa joining in on the fun. Fists bumped in the air, and you felt like the coolest fucking person in the world. Doing a keg stand wasn’t exactly in your goals list, but fuck did it feel like it should’ve been as your ego inflated.

“That’s it, you’re doing great!” Eren’s thumbs brushed the inside of your knees, leaning in to whisper. “Good girl.”

You sputtered around the tap, choking harshly. You removed your mouth quickly to gasp for air, and the tap shot up all over your shirt, jacket long forgotten resting on the sofa in the living room. Eren moved your legs down to the floor quickly seeing this, and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as your arm shot out to grab onto something, in this case his other arm.

“You alright?” Jean asked, a look of concern washing over his features as you finally got some air into your lungs.

“Yeah,” you coughed again, blushing in embarrassment. “I definitely made a mess though.”

“I brought some extra clothes with me,” Eren offered quickly. “One of these idiots always manages to somehow spill something within the first hour of drinking. I’ll show you where my bag is at.”

You smiled in appreciation, biting your tongue to accuse him of purposely throwing you off your game with his little praise that had your knees buckling. He unwound his arm, taking your hand and leading you to the staircase by the entryway, your smaller form following behind him as he thudded up the stairs. Three doors greeted you at the top, and he led you into the master bedroom, plainly decorated and lacking personal belongings. You watched as he chucked a duffle bag onto the mattress, unzipping it and going through his clothes. He found a sweatshirt, smirking inwardly as it had been one of his old sports ones with his last name embroidered on the back. Proud he could provide a claim to you, he extended it to you, and you gladly accepted it.

“Well, you did really well in the beginning there,” he chuckled, whisking his stray baby hairs behind his ear. “Sucks about the shirt though. The first time I tried to do a keg stand, I barfed everywhere.”

You laughed lightly, fingering the hem of your shirt, “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, at least I can check this off my bucket list.”

Eren’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as you lifted your shirt to reveal your bare stomach, and he whisked his body completely around so you didn’t see his reddened cheeks, “You could’ve asked me to leave.”

Behind him, you let a mischievous smirk cross your lips, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Eren’s mouth fell open at your bold statement, letting his words leave before he could stop them, “You know?”

“Of course,” you discarded the sodden shirt to the floor, sitting on the bed instead of tossing the sweatshirt on. “You’re my favorite viewer.”

He caught your movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to take in the sight. Fuck, you were even more beautiful in person. Your bra was white and pretty and dainty, pushing your tits together, accentuating cleavage that Eren wanted to bury his face in. His gaze moved up to your face, smiling so innocently at him as he let out a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”

You hummed, leaning back to expose your form a bit more, feeling confident from the alcohol, “You like every one of my pictures, you buy all my content, you’re pretty cute, of course you’re my favorite.”

Eren’s ego soared as he turned his body completely towards you, taking a small step forward, “You’re just so beautiful, how could I not? I do have to ask this though, how come you never answered any of my messages?”

“Oh, my DMs are broken. Instagram doesn’t let me view them or respond,” you explained easily. “You know, you could’ve hit me up on OnlyFans, I definitely would have answered you.”

A blush crept up on Eren again as he averted his gaze to the floor, “I didn’t think about that.”

You giggled softly, “What’d you send me anyways?”

“I asked you out on a date,” he admitted, growing more nervous. “Told you that you were really pretty. Y’know, stuff you probably get all the time.”

“Most of my messages are from guys trying to take me out drinking and to get a quick fuck,” you scoffed. “Y’know, if the offer is still on the table, I’d really like to take you up on it.”

“Really?” Eren’s eyes met yours in surprise, you watched his Adam’s apple bob along his throat as he gulped. “You’d want to go out with me?”

“Yeah, who else is going to hold me up when I try to do a keg stand again?” you smiled sheepishly, batting your eyelashes. Eren’s hands twitched at his sides, fuck, you were so pretty.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked seriously, his gaze hardening as he felt a wave of possessiveness. In his mind, you were already his girlfriend. You had accepted his date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to push his luck further.

Eren had never felt the way he feels right now. He took immediate notice of your blushing cheeks, your confident lean turn into a shy arch as you pushed your body into a hunched over seating position. Eren had experience with girls, that everyone knew as a fact, he was very far from being a virgin. You made him feel like a fucking virgin, heart beating wildly in his chest. All he wanted to do was to grab you and hide you away for his own greedy pleasure, the darkest parts of his mind tickled by the thought. He had laid a claim to you way before he had ever met you, and he wouldn’t let you escape now that he had you here, alone.

You didn’t answer his request, you pushed yourself off the mattress and met his staggering stance halfway. Unknown to his wicked thoughts, his past month of obsessing of you, you leaned up, gently brushing your lips against his. No one had ever asked you this simple question before, instead just taking the action as if they had owned you, and you thought to yourself that you could really love this boy who presented himself so innocently to you.

The soft placement of your lips to his was not enough, and Eren buried his mouth with your own, moving both of his hands to cup your face. He could feel your jaw beneath the pads of his fingertips as you attempted to meet his pace, sensual and passionate. The need for air forgotten for the both of you, sucking in deeply through your noses as the space continued to close between your bodies.

“Gonna take you someplace real nice,” muttered Eren as he pulled away slightly to gaze his half lidded eyes on your fluttering eyelashes, your gaze now hidden from him. “I know you like that one place in the city, I saw your little post of you wearing that tight dress. You looked so fucking pretty.”

Tingles shivered up your bones, a sharp intake of breath as you fluttered your eyes open to take in his deep lustful expression, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”

“Wear my necklace too.”

You pulled away completely this time, baffled, “Your necklace?”

“The one with the ‘E’ on it,” he breathed, moving forward to accommodate the sudden distance, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth. You realized then what he was referring to, a small smirk uplifting his kiss. You wouldn’t tell him though that the necklace in question was just some random trinket with no meaning you had purchased, or that you hadn’t even recognized the pretty cursive as a letter. You figured out very quickly Eren’s little crush was a bit more involved than just him attached to your hip at this party. No, it was way deeper than that. All of the likes, the money, the new information of messages made sense to you. Eren had believed you were his, and he had sought out confirmation all night to prove it.

“Okay,” you played along to his fantasy, an expert since it was your job online already to provide this to your viewers. “What else do you want me to wear?”

“There’s this one set of lingerie,” Eren was the one to pull back now, letting his teal eyes trail downwards to your chest, displeased by the lack of skin shown to him in that instance. “The black lacy one, fuck, wear that. You look so fucking sexy in that.”

“You don’t like when I wear white?” you pouted, bringing your hands to rest against the peak of your breasts, framing them like a picture.

“I like anything you wear,” a smirk crossed his features, eyes locked in on your tits. “Or what you don’t wear.”

You were met with two choices then. One, kiss Eren and get dressed and save yourself for your date, or two, fulfill his now present fantasy of his that was beginning to morph into your own. You mentally battled the decision in your mind, feeling the desire curl in your stomach at each option. If you were to give in now, Eren might not want to continue to chase after you, the promise of an actual date forgotten. Not to mention the party of people down stairs, the thud of music softened behind the closed door of the bedroom indicating it was still in full swing. Eren saw your hesitation, and let his hands travel to your elbows comfortingly.

“I know we technically just met,” he started, eyes now locked in on yours in genuine honesty. “But I really like you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month, so if you don’t feel comfortable going any further, that’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you bit your lip as you watched his teal orbs flicker to your mouth. “It’s just — oh God, this is embarrassing to talk about so soon.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t judge,” he cooed, bringing just a hand up to soothe over your cheek.

“I’m not exactly quiet,” you admitted, gesturing towards the floor. “I don’t really want to be the girl who fucks someone at the first party they show up to.”

Eren hadn’t predicted you to be loud in his fantasies, but he was really wishing he had. He held back a groan at your confession, images of what could be filling his dirty mind, “Fuck, okay, no problem. I don’t have any condoms with me anyways.”

“Actually,” you drawled. “I’m on the pill, so as far as that goes, that doesn’t really matter. I’m clean too, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

Boxes were being ticked quickly off of Eren’s checklist, and he let his jaw hang open, “I’m clean too, I don’t fuck anyone without a condom, to be honest.”

I’m going to fuck her raw, is all that was going through his mind. Treat her so good, take her out wearing her pretty little dress and treat her like a fucking princess.

“Please tell me you’re free tomorrow,” Eren pleaded. “I’ll take us fucking anywhere you want.”

“I am, actually,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Cool,” he muttered, beginning to feel drawn into your lips again. As you began to lean back in, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Hey! Everything alright?” you both froze, recognizing the voice as Armin’s. Of course he’d be the only one to dare interrupt, and the party below had discouraged him. Eren had taken you upstairs, and while they were all aware of the possibility of the two of you would be hooking up, Armin was more concerned that one or both of you had gotten sick and were in need of help.

“Yeah, we’re fine! Be out in a second!” Eren shouted, feeling suddenly frazzled from the intense interaction between you two. If Armin had opened the door, seeing the two of you locked in together so closely, making out feverishly, it would be completely mortifying. Especially since it wouldn’t be the first time Armin had accidentally seen his best friend in a suggestive situation.

You pecked his lips quickly then, breaking out of his embrace to throw his sweatshirt over your head. Eren was counting backwards in his head to rid himself of the half erection in his pants, nearly impossible as he thought about how pretty you looked in his clothing.

“C’mon,” you tugged at his hand, urging him to follow you back downstairs. “We have a pizza to eat and friends to convince that we definitely didn’t just fuck for ten minutes.”

The group hadn’t made a single comment when you two rejoined the party, only just knowing smirks from Jean and Connie to Eren. Sasha had wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you quickly pulled her and Mikasa into the bathroom to recap what had just occurred upstairs. The girls clapped drunkenly at your news of a date, incredibly excited that their best friend was finally going out with a boy. The night had ended around three in the morning, bodies scattered throughout the house to pass out wherever they pleased. Eren had continued to stay by you the rest of the night, this time, not shy at all as he stole touches to your back. And when it came time to pass out, you felt smugness as he rested his head on your back while you laid on your side on the same bed upstairs, his arm thrown tightly around your waist. Sasha curled up in front of you, your own head snuggling into her shoulder as the room spun you into a deep slumber.

You sat at a vanity in your apartment bedroom the next evening, applying various makeups to your face. Mikasa had awoken you and Sasha pretty early the next morning, wanting to go home so she could get ready for her job. Eren snored quietly behind you as you tried your best to maneuver out of his grasp, and the three of you cleaned up the cups and plates scattered around the house as a thank you to Jean for the invitation. Sasha had driven you all the way back to your place when you realized you were still wearing Eren’s hoodie, and you smirked. Now he definitely had a reason to get you on this date tonight, you had something that belonged to him.

When Eren had woken up, he truly believed for a few minutes that you had just been a dream. Pictures and videos posted all over Instagram had shown him differently though, the two of you leaning against each other on the leather couch smiling drunkenly on Armin’s story had his heart pounding. His arm was around your shoulders, your head was tilted in the crook of his neck, and then Eren remembered that he was going to see you again tonight. He took a screenshot before the story moved on to a video of the group in a heated discussion about music tastes, a quiet chuckle made its way out of his throat as he recounted memories that would become very fond to him.

He had posted the picture then to his Instagram, a few others followed after that included him and his other friends. Eren tagged all of the people, but most importantly, the picture of the two of you was the first in the line up of the photo set. A few messages hit his inbox after he hit the post button, some classmates asking if you were his girlfriend, because you were wearing his sweatshirt in the photo. He decided to not respond, because as much as he wanted to tell them yes, he knew he’d be jumping the gun. His heart raced as a notification popped up — you had liked the picture, and added a comment, ‘last night was a movie’ with a kiss emoji. When he refreshed the page, your lit up story showed him that you had even reposted his photo set. His ego soared, his affections no longer one sided, and he couldn’t fucking wait to take you out later and show you the best time he could.

Eren had gotten your phone number from Sasha not long before your date, asking for your address and trying to pick out a time to head out to dinner. You tapped a response quickly, and looked at the clock to gauge how much time you’d need to be fully ready. That had been about three hours ago, your body had been scrubbed and shaved, hair curled prettily down your back as you added the final touches of lipstick to your lips. The dress Eren had talked about was laid out on your perfectly made bed, a pretty satin champagne colored fabric, and your apartment was fairly clean, fully expecting his company after the date of all went well. You dressed yourself easily, slipping on black heels when you heard the chime of your phone, letting you know Eren was awaiting you outside.

When the elevator doors chimed open as you walked into your lobby, you saw from the entrance doors Eren leaned back casually against the Uber he had offered to pay for. His attention immediately focused on your form as you exited your building, his gaze flickered all over your body.

“You look incredible,” Eren easily complimented, pushing himself up to stand straight. He leaned in to kiss your blushing cheek as you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’, and he pulled the door handle of the sleek black car, ushering you inside. He slammed it closed after you had positioned yourself comfortably, giving the driver a soft greeting as Eren circled around the back, getting in on the opposite side. The directions were already plugged into the driver’s GPS, and it took less than twenty minutes to get to the restaurant in question.

This gave you enough time to take in Eren’s appearance, and damn if you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to do so, the sight practically mouth watering. His hair hung low in a messy bun, a few complementary strands hanging out to frame his sharp jawline. His torso was adorned in a sheer white long sleeve button up, a small portion of his chest revealed as he had left the top buttons alone, chains hanging against his collarbones, silver in color this time. Black slacks that tightened around his thighs and calves had you biting your lip in appreciation, his legs spread as he took up space in the backseat.

“Staring isn’t very polite,” he had leaned in, taking notice of your devouring gaze.

“Stop dressing like a whore and maybe I won’t stare,” you teased back, chuckling quietly when he swatted your exposed thigh lightly. He kept his hand there for the rest of the drive, enjoying the comfortable silence as the quiet hum of the radio filled in the gaps.

When the Uber had slowed to a stop outside of the fancy restaurant Eren had insisted taking you to, he swung the door open before you had a chance to reach for the handle on your side. He raced to the other side of the car, pulling open the door and extending his hand out for you to grasp onto. You circled your fingers around his palm, and he tightened his grasp as you swung your legs over the flooring, and stood before him. The two of you thanked the driver, and he sped away shortly after. Hand still locked in with yours, Eren led the way inside the opened doors of the restaurant. Inside, a hostess wearing a very classy black uniform greeted the two of you.

“Reservation for Eren,” he spoke smoothly, and your eyes widened in surprise, expecting to have sat and waited for at least a half an hour before you had been seated.

“Right this way,” she smiled politely, two menus in her hands as she welcomed you into the dining area. You followed behind Eren, realizing that this place must’ve been a lot more expensive than you originally had gauged. All the guests appeared in their very best formal attire, and the chatter was soft as the beautiful notes of a piano resounded throughout the space. While you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the music was coming from, you had a strong feeling that there was a physical player somewhere in the midst, it sounded so clear and professional. When the hostess had sat you down in a booth secluded against the furthest set wall, she smiled politely once more and informed you that the waiter would be with you soon.

“Eren,” you hissed as you sat opposite of his smirking form. “This place is stupid fancy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved easily. “I got it, I promise.”

“How are you able to afford this? I’ve got a little bit of money and even I couldn’t go some place this nice,” you questioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. He was going to go broke trying to treat you to a very nice, albeit expensive, meal.

“My dad is a doctor,” he shrugged, picking up the menu and eyeing over their drink selection. “He sends me money whenever I come around and help around his office.”

“Following in the family footsteps?” you tried at the conversation, realizing you virtually knew nothing about the boy in front of you.

“Nah, I’m more into the business side of things,” he smiled up at you then, showing off his pearly white teeth. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”

You spoke of your major, Eren carefully listening in of your passions and your goals for your future ahead. He was pleased to hear that you were ambitious, smiling as he was enamored by your speech. Not that he minded a single bit about your online job, but to hear that you had a legitimate career goal soothed his worries.

A finely dressed waiter greeted you shortly, introducing himself and taking the both of your orders in one go, and stole away the menus. The rest of the date flew by quickly, tipsy from your cocktails and full of giggles as the two of you got to know one another. Although Eren was already knowledgeable about a number of your likes and dislikes and personality quirks due to Instagram, you had the undisguisable pleasure of learning his right then and there.

“So,” you leaned your elbows onto the table, resting your chin atop of your closed fists. “Tell me, how many girls have you taken here before?”

“Not a single one,” he chuckled lowly, passing the black booklet encasing his credit card as the waiter stopped at the table. “This is actually my first time taking anyone out somewhere so fancy. Usually I just hang out at the more lowkey spots around campus.”

“I would’ve been totally okay with going somewhere like that instead,” you frowned, that same guilt flooding back to your stomach. Eren hadn’t even let you see the bill before he had given it away, so you were completely ignorant as far as how far the total rang up. “You really didn’t have to take me out to such an expensive place.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, smirking as he did so, “Had to take my favorite girl somewhere nice, show you off in that gorgeous dress of yours.”

You blushed, moving your fists to hold your cheeks to try and contain the heat, “Fine, but next time, I want to see one of these ‘lowkey spots’.”

“Next time, huh?” Eren mused cockily.

“Yes, I guess I had a really great time tonight, consider yourself honored,” you giggled half heartedly.

“Oh believe me, I do.”

Eren had walked you to the front door of your apartment like the gentleman he was. Really, he was just trying to procrastinate leaving you, not wanting the night to be over with quite yet. Luckily, you were on the exact same page as he stood awkwardly behind you while you unlocked your front door.

You turned, an eyebrow raised, “Well? Are you coming in or what?”

“Say less,” he sighed in relief, following your sauntering frame inside your apartment. He was initially impressed as you flicked the light switch on the wall up, illuminating your precious space. Very clean and organized, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing his own dorm room was scattered with clothes and empty water bottles. If he had only seen what your living space looked like before you had straightened up, he might have felt better about himself.

“I have some róse in the fridge,” you offered, making your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass?”

“No lie, that’s literally my favorite wine,” Eren groaned. “How are you this perfect?”

You laughed loudly, grabbing two wine glasses from your cabinet, opening your fridge and retrieving the bottle. Filling the glasses generously, you left the bottle on your kitchen counter and turned around, Eren a lot closer than where you had left him a moment ago. You extended his cup, which he graciously took and sipped. You mirrored him, gulping down your own mouthful.

“Y’know,” he started, gazing around your kitchen space. “For all that talk of mimosas in your Instagram bio, I really expected there to be a lot more pictures of you drinking them.”

You chuckled once again, “Believe me, I have plenty of orange juice, vodka, and champagne here. We had such a classy dinner, I thought I’d try and match it with some wine. Besides, vodka brings out the worst in me.”

“Ah, lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, swatting his bicep harmlessly. “I get what you’re about at brunch with the girls.”

“If I had a nickel for every time Mikasa had to peel me and Sasha off the pavement after mimosas and scones, I’d be fucking rich,” you giggled once again, raising the glass to your lips.

“I’m really surprised we hadn’t met each other before last night, especially because Mikasa and I have been best friends since we were little,” Eren raised an eyebrow. “She’s basically my sister, and never once did she say anything about you, I only met Sasha because Connie’s attached to her hip and they share the same brain cell.”

“If it makes you feel better, I only knew Jean existed because we had a class together this semester,” you shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part where he consumed your content almost as much as Eren did.

“And of course me,” Eren smirked cheekily. “Because I’m your favorite viewer, like you said.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you that,” you pointed your glass towards him in a fake threat.

“It’s okay, you’re my favorite girl, so it evens itself out,” Eren placed his half drunk glass on the counter top, his gaze much more seductive. “Besides, you wore my necklace like I asked, I gotta tease you a little bit.”

“I wore pretty much everything you wanted me to,” you smirked, copying his actions and settling your own cup down.

“Did you now?” he took long strides to stand in front of you, toying with the necklace that he had laid claim over.

“I can show you, if you want to see,” you leaned up with full intentions of capturing his kiss.

“There’s nothing else I would rather do, pretty girl,” Eren cooed, licking his lips before meeting you in the middle. His arms circled around your waist, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as the pace started out slowly. Gentle was not what either of you wanted though, the desperation seeping in fast as his fingers explored your sides.

“Bedroom,” you gasped as he removed his lips and attached them to your jaw. He had no qualms of fucking you right out here in the kitchen, so he made no effort to move. Realizing you had to take the reins, you moved backwards from Eren, smirking as he groaned from the sudden distance. His eyes followed you predatorily as he began to chase after you, your back meeting the wooden paneling of your bedroom door. He attempted to recapture your mouth, but your hand was faster in turning the door knob, and you began to lead him back until your mattress met the backs of your knees.

“Want you to show me what you’re wearing under that dress,” Eren demanded, playing with the short hem that rested on your thighs.

You nodded, giving him the silent okay to take off the fabric encompassing your frame. You turned so your back faced him, moving your hair out of the way so he could unzip the back. His eyes followed as he fingered the silver zipper, agonizingly teasing himself as more and more was revealed to him. Seeing the straps of the black lace he had requested drunkenly the night before, his patience snapped as he pulled the metal piece down faster. You slid the tiny straps off your shoulders at the sweet feeling of release, and Eren’s dick was rock fucking solid as it pooled around your feet, you kicked the silky fabric to the side and faced him once more.

“You’re wearing everything I told you to,” he stated, drinking in the sight of your scantily clad body. “Good girl.”

You bit back an embarrassing moan at his praise, feeling the heat pool between your thighs. It came as such a shock to you to be so reactive to his words, and it came slamming into you that maybe you weren’t as vanilla as you had previously believed. You had a kink! It all made so much sense, why you felt such pride and arousal from complete strangers giving you their attention and compliments online. You yearned for it, craved the affections, and now that Eren stood in front of you, more than willing to shower you with pretty words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. You wanted him so fucking bad.

Eren’s hands met the naked skin of your waist as his palms etched over your soft stomach. They met in the middle of your back, leaning your back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of you, a single hand coming up to work on discarding his button up. You rushed to help, pads of your fingers working the buttons open until he revealed his bare chest, his chains hanging above you. He worked his arms out quickly, tossing the fabric onto the floor. He brought his lips to yours, this kiss much more desperate and needy than the previous ones. His hands explored every inch of your body, the tops of your thighs to the swell of your breasts. He tugged on the soft lace at the top, slowly bringing the black fabric down to expose the complete fullness of your breasts. A sight familiar yet somehow new made Eren groan, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your pretty nipples, instantly hardening them.

You moaned lightly, throwing your head back and arching your back into his touch. How many times had Eren pictured you just like this?

“I fucked my fist so many fucking times thinking about you,” he confessed as he pressed slow open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. “You have no idea what your pictures did to me, no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

He leaned his bottom half forward, pressing his thick clothed erection into the meat of your thigh. You let out a whimper, head foggy as his words made your pussy clench around nothing.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a wet saliva trail as he wrapped his lips around where he could feel your pulse the strongest. “My pretty girl.”

While Eren wanted to talk about what you did to him, all you could think about was what he was doing to you. The want and need that coursed through your veins was like a drug, you could feel him worming his way into your bloodstream, straight to the center of your heart and out to the warmest parts of your body. And you felt like an addict in that moment too, and every moment you would spend with Eren there after. You could feel his kisses as if he was underneath your skin, his entire body pressed against yours. So, so close, yet not close enough.

“Take off your pants,” you demanded shakily, placing your hands at the button of his slacks. He seemed to be on the same page of you yet again, and he followed his instructions without delay. He kicked out of the tight pants with ease, and you were more than pleased to see he had rid himself of his boxers too when you heard the thick slap of his cock meeting his stomach.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes widened. “Eren, that’s not going to fit.”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed your hair back from your face, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet for me.”

He started to move south, licking and giving attention to your right nipple as he did so. While the idea of him giving you thorough attention was erotic, you really wanted to please him for your first time together, unknown to you as Eren had thought the exact same thing, wanting to make you feel so good you’d come crawling back to him for more.

You pushed yourself up into a seating position, Eren’s eyes flickering in confusion as you stood up. This look didn’t last for long as you switched positions, pushing his torso onto the bed as you rested atop of him, feet placed firmly on the ground. His mouth hung open in disbelief as you began to return his assault on his neck, sucking and kissing and even biting along the columns. He let out a shaky groan, unable to hold it back as your hands traveled down his chest to his abdomen, feeling over the muscles there.

“What’re you doing, princess?” Eren questioned teasingly, not trying to get his hopes up on what your plan seemed to be.

“Wanna’ make you feel good,” your eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of his eyes, watching as his pupils expanded as the realization hit him like a brick.

“Fuck, okay,” Eren subconsciously widened his thighs then, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows as your kisses followed shortly behind the trail of your fingers.

Your mouth met the defined muscle of his stomach, and your eyes drifted up to catch Eren’s reaction as you neared closer to his aching cock. His eyes were hardened on you, brows knitted together, he almost looked angry. You kitten licked above his navel, and knew the anger was superficial as he threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan. You leaned your body in closer, pushing your exposed chest against his length. He whipped his head forward again at the contact, his lips opened as he inhaled shaky breaths.

Part of you had kind of wanted to hear Eren beg for your mouth, but the thought had quickly left your head as he entangled his fingers into the back of your scalp, massaging gently as he did so. Without a moment of hesitation, you lowered your face so you were eye to eye with his thick shaft. Honestly, you really hadn’t expected Eren to be this big. You had caught a glimpse of his half erect member tenting in his pants the night before, but as it stood to full attention, you were very much intimidated by the sheer size. You gulped, putting on a brace face as you continued on.

The sound of Eren’s groans growing louder as you licked a bold stripe from the bottom of his base to the tip of his head had stirred your cunt deeply. You were on your knees now, feet tucked up under you when you felt the wet patch of your panties touch the back of your heels. You licked a few more times, your right hand trailing down from his stomach to grip him more upright. You pulled all the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue, and wrapped your lips around his tip while your hand secured a purposeful grip at his base. You started slow, only sucking in your cheeks and moving your tongue along the underside of his head, pumping him at the same pace. You could feel beads of spit meet your knuckles, circling your tongue around the entirety of his fat mushroom tip. You smoothly licked along his slit, collecting his gushing precum and tasting the salty liquid.

Meanwhile as you had just started your worship of his cock, Eren was watching you in disbelief as your eyelashes fluttered along your cheeks, mouth prepping yourself to take in his full length. He had pulled himself into a sitting position now to provide you the best angle he could. He was in complete awe, furrowing eyebrows and his mouth hanging open, he knew in that moment there was absolutely no point of return. He would follow you from here on out, whether it be online or in reality, wherever you would go. Soulmates, he reminded himself while he collected your hair into his fist and away from your mouth. You were his fucking soulmate.

You pressed your knees upward, eyes opening. Eren’s pupils were blown out, his breathing irregular, and you wanted to watch him completely unfold as you angled your head to drop lower onto his shaft, hand working just a little faster.

“Fuck —“ he stuttered, eyes blazing into yours. “That’s it, take all of me, you’re such a good girl.”

You moaned lightly at his praise once again, and Eren’s cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled your lips up slowly, tongue caressing the underside of his member the entire time, and quickly brought your unoccupied hand into a fist. This was the first time you would be trying out this trick, reading it in a magazine since your gag reflex was very strong and this helped soothe the impulse. Eren was not prepared in the slightest as you removed the hand gripping him, letting his dick fall forward a bit more. You took a deep breathe through your nose, spit coating his entire cock now, and pushed your mouth fast back down his shaft.

Eren let out a strangled gasp when your nose brushed against his pelvis, “Holy fucking — fuck. Shit, yeah, just like that. You look so fucking pretty right now.”

Tears were threatening the spill over your lash line and you bobbed your head furiously, taking in as much as you could before you gagged. You stared up at him the entire time, watching his face screw together as you lapped and sucked his cock. Your jaw was aching already from his size, minding your teeth placement as you quickened your pace. You returned your hand to wrap and pump whatever your mouth wasn’t able to reach as you set yourself into a more comfortable pattern. Your other hand cupped his balls, swirling them softly in your palms.

Eren’s fingers yanked you back, his dick falling out of your lips in a soft pop, as you looked up in confusion, “Gonna’ stop you there baby, gonna’ make me cum.”

His hand in your hair guided you back up to his lips, and Eren could taste himself as his tongue pushed through your swollen mouth to enter yours. You moaned into the kiss, so sloppy and messy, you took no notice of Eren’s hands wiping away the leftover dribble on your chin. He yanked you back, a bit rougher this time, and you panted, rubbing your thighs together at the force. He eyed you up, your beautiful tits still on display, the fabric of your lace bra folded underneath them.

“Get naked for me, princess,” he cooed, untangling his fingers from your scalp. You did as you were told, practically ripping the lace set off your body as you soon stood stark naked in front of Eren. He pushed his legs up, joining you. You felt very small then as he towered above you, playing with the tips of your hair, he guided you around until you were forced to lay yourself flat on your back on the mattress once again.

Eren caressed your shins as he stood tall in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You could still see the glistening of your saliva on his cock, and heat continued to pool in between your thighs in anticipation of his next move.

“Look at you,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers on the tops of your bent knees, legs closed together. “So pretty, it almost hurts to look at you.”

His darkened eyes shot down, drinking you all in before settling on your closed legs. With his hands, he gently forced them to part, and he let out a quiet moan at the sight in front of him. Dripping in arousal, almost sparkling and shining like the gem you were, your pussy spread open for him, begging for his attention. His gaze darted up back to your face, trying not to get too carried away as he admired your beautiful body.

Eren let out a dark chuckle, stroking his hands to the meat of your thighs, “You have no idea the things I have planned for us, princess.”

You whimpered, unable to voice a single word. His right hand moved towards your center, and you gasped sharply as he gently grazed your folds with the lightest of touches. His thumb landed a hair above your clit, and you squirmed, desperate now. He circled so slowly on your pearl, gazing on with an inflated ego. Eren wanted you to beg for him, to tell you all about those ideas he had going on in his head while he fucked his fingers into you.

He decided to go easy on you though, you had plenty of time ahead of you to learn exactly what he wanted when it came to the bedroom, he cooed, “I’m gonna’ show you off, just like you deserve. Gonna’ buy you pretty things, treat you like the fucking princess you are — gonna’ be my pretty girl.”

“Please, Eren,” you whimpered, attempting to push your pelvis into his hand, failing miserably as his other one gripped your thigh in place. “I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need, baby,” Eren smirked.

“Everything,” you breathed out. “I want you to keep calling me pretty, wan’ you to fuck me.”

“We’ll get to that part soon,” he paused, lowering his head to your inner thigh, getting to his knees on the floor. “Just need to make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

Eren licked a bold stripe up your pussy as you mewled, feeling a shred of relief as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. You felt a bead of saliva, probably mixed in with your own arousal, travel down the seam of your ass. Eren was starving, and you tasted so delicious, a sweet tart flavor exploding across his taste buds. He flattened his tongue, and looked up to watch your gorgeous face as his lips engulfed your clit.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you attached your hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your nipples. He positioned his hands to the back of your thighs then, somehow managing to spread you open even more. The sounds he made in between your folds were wet and sloppy, and he rubbed small circles with the pads of his thumbs into the creases where your legs met your ass.

He never broke away from your face, watching everything unfold before him. Now that you were free from his solidifying grip, your hips were rolling. He watched your ribs expand and fall as you moaned unabashedly, rubbing your cunt into his mouth. Eren had never seen a more beautiful sight, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His right hand itched closer to your opening, and you trembled at the prodding of his index fingers. His tongue flopped around sloppily, slurping your bud in between his lips as he entered you slowly, cock pulsing at the feeling of your slick velvety walls greeting his finger.

Here he was, on his knees before you, eyes heavy and swirling because of you. You arched your back as he pumped the single digit in you slowly at first. He felt the tight clench of your walls as his tongue flicked at a certain angle, pleased that he had discovered very quickly how he was going to get you to cum. Eren was impatient, and as much as he wanted to stay between the heat of your thighs for hours if you’d let him, he really needed that orgasm from you. The tip of his pointer finger left you briefly, and you whimpered at the sudden loss, quickly becoming breathless and he slammed it right back in alongside his middle finger. They curled inside of you, brushing right against the soft spongy wall that was your g-spot. You were gushing for him, the sloppy noises of his assaults resounding around the bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck,” you panted, feeling your breasts bounce as he fucked his fingers into you at an alarming pace, tongue following the pattern eagerly. “Oh my god, I’m so close, Eren, I’m gonna’ cum.”

He pulled his mouth back momentarily, voice husky and pleading as he told you, “Cum for me, baby.”

You slammed your hips down onto his knuckles, feeling the underside of his palm and your slick. He had been reduced to curling and angling his fingers inside of you, watching in adoration and awe as you bounced yourself on his fingers, rubbing your pretty pussy against his mouth. Eren had just become a bystander at this point, he was pretty much forced to be stilled as you used his mouth and hands so greedily, feeling an unfamiliar swell in your cunt.

And when your back arched, and your walls clenched so fiercely tight around his drenched fingers, Eren found his forever love. He’d do anything, be anyone, whatever the fuck that was asked of him, to see this sight for the rest of his life. You were vibrating, legs shaking so strongly, Eren had to mentally catch up when he felt a gush of hot liquid soak him. He shifted his gaze down in shock, and holy shit, you were squirting.

You swore you had never orgasmed like this before, it was more than stars you were seeing behind your closed eyelids. It was pure black, absolute nothingness as your brain short circuited. It was like your pussy was taking a deep breath, because when the onset of contractions hit you, you thought you were going to pass out. And poor Eren, who stared dumbly in front of him at how intense your muscles were flexing, was already so deeply in love with you and was confessing his eternal devotion to you in his mind.

When your cunt had settled down, and your hips relented in pushing yourself against Eren’s face and hands, you let out a low moan as he slid his drenched fingers out of you. He stared at his hand, shining with your cum, and flickered his gaze up to you.

“I’m going to fucking marry you,” he growled. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You let out an exhausted laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you that was the first time I’ve ever squirted?”

“I’m buying you a goddamn ring tomorrow,” he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, moving his body up to hover above you. Eren’s hands wrapped around your thighs once again, propping your knees to your chest. He saw the slight trace of fear in your eyes, and he paused, “You okay?”

“It’s just,” you gazed at the point between your bodies. “Are you gonna’ fit?”

Eren leaned forward, feeling slightly relieved, his face still dripping in your essence, and he placed a sweet, romantic kiss to your lips, pulling away to murmur, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded your head, letting the worry roll off your body as one of his hands caressed your cheek, never breaking eye contact with him. The other hand reached in between your centers, grabbing his throbbing cock and sliding himself along your pussy. He was soon coated in your juices, and both of you were letting out quiet moans. As he sunk his tip into your entrance though, you were gasping loudly.

Eren really had wanted to be gentle, he had no intentions whatsoever of hurting you, but he had realized very quickly that you were going to be the one to set the pace in the relationship. Because as soon as half of his shaft was anchored in your heat, your hips slammed upwards to engulf his entire length. He bit back a yelp at the suddenness, fisting the sheets by your waist in a tight grip. If Eren didn’t feel like a virgin before, he sure as fuck did now.

You didn’t realize just how prepped that orgasm had made you, or how sensitive. What you had believed would’ve been pain was insurmountable and mind blowing pleasure, and you smiled in pride as Eren’s jaw fell open. You felt his hands fall from the underside of your thighs, and you took the opportunity, leveraging your legs, and thrusted upwards. Eren bottomed out inside of you, and you winced slightly at the mild pain of his tip meeting the wall of your cervix, the stretch of your walls accommodating him as you fluttered around him.

“You’re so big, Eren,” you moaned out, moving your hands to grasp his flexing biceps. “‘Feels so good.”

Eren was fighting an internal war — go as slow as physically possible as to not bust in your heavenly pussy in three strokes, or give you the best two minutes of your fucking life. Because it was absolutely all way too much, your gorgeous face, your soaked core, the way you gripped his cock so tightly. You were a vixen, Eren’s personal vices wrapped up in one human body. He couldn’t help but take notice of how perfectly your bodies fit together, your pussy made for him.

“Eren, move, please,” you whined, attempting to squirm your hips. He shot a hand down to your hip, stilling you as he gave you a warning glare.

“I’m trying really hard not to cum inside of you right now,” Eren groaned, finally moving his hips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Making it real hard for me right now.”

Little was Eren aware of your pussy still on edge from the mind blowing power of your first orgasm, and you mouth lolled open as he slowly fucked you. If you were to touch your clit, or have any type of pressure there right now, it would be over for you as well. You’d have all the time in the future to have long, drawn out sex with Eren, but the two of you were just way too turned on and aroused by each other to have anything but heavy and fast sex. With a slight hesitation on your end, also not wanting to cum so quickly around his length, you rocked your hips into his fastening pace.

Eren chose the latter of his two options then, feeling the ridges of your pussy pulse and flutter around his cock. He pulled all the way back, tip daring to fall out of your little hole, and he flung himself right back in to the hilt. He repeated this a few times, and you were trying your best to hold back screams. Eren was drooling at the sight of your pretty pink pussy taking him, sloppy and messy from his saliva and your cum. He brought his attention to your bouncing breasts, molding one into his palm, rolling the nipple in the center.

Eren’s thrusts quickened dramatically, and he knew that your warning from the previous night had been true. You were screaming, calling out his name and several swears and ‘oh my god’s. This only encouraged him more, ego pretty much stroking his own cock as he plunged into you at a dangerous pace. He knew he was going to fast approach his orgasm, but Eren wasn’t stupid either. He could feel the clench tightening around him as he fucked right into that pretty spot inside of you, the way your breathing changed after a few seconds of that. Eren would become your number one expert, knowing every tell tale sign of your body, and what you were feeling. From one orgasm, he knew how your breathing changed, and Eren was determined to take you to those heights again.

Keeping the flick of his hips at the slamming pace he was at, he brought his thumb to your swollen clit. At the impact, your eyes screwed closed over the overwhelming pleasure. You felt a twinge of pain, just so sensitive from how strong you came before, but didn’t stop Eren as he rolled your pearl in fast circles, putting delicate pressure on the very top. It took maybe three strokes of his cock and a slight unsteady irregularity in his pattern to get you right where he had wanted you — desperate to cum alongside him.

“I’m so close, Eren,” you moaned out, lower body buzzing in anticipation.

“I want you to cum on my cock,” he demanded, a shocked moan crawling out of his throat at the first clench. “Oh, fuck, good girl.”

You spasmed under him, eyebrows shooting up in a furrow as you arched your back uncontrollably, the wave of your second orgasm slamming into you like a train. You could hear the squelching of Eren fucking your pussy as you contracted around him, or as he tried to. It was pure ecstasy, a feeling of wholeness filling you entirely. Half way through your orgasm, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding out of you as he pumped himself fast above you. You held your legs open, breathing heavily as Eren watched your muscles contract in astonishment. He had never made a girl cum like this before, so hard and so visually. Your beautiful face, eyes encouraging him to cum, was all he needed. His dick was covered in you, his fingers sticky and soaked. It was all so fucking sloppy, and the thought and sight of it all caught up to him.

You felt the hot ropes of cum hit your belly, moaning at the sight. Eren was fucking his fist, cock thrusting in his grip like he had been doing in your pussy. His head hung forward, eyes drinking in the entirety of you. He shot his load on your lower half, stroking himself down after a couple of minutes, breathing heavily.

He eyed the box of tissues on your nightstand, and grabbed a few, languidly wiping his cum off of your abdomen as the two of you tried to catch your breath, or bring a ration thought back into your minds.

“We just had porn star sex,” you giggled tiredly.

“Oh yes we fucking did,” Eren smirked. “Not to like hype you up or whatever, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Your pride and ego swelled as he finished wiping up his cum, discarding the tissues in the bin on the floor. He hadn’t given you much time to respond, asking where the bathroom was so he could grab a rag to clean you up. You were humbled, affection rising in your chest when he returned to take care of your exhausted body. No one had bothered with aftercare before, and right then and there, you knew Eren was a keeper.

“Thank you,” you yawned out, stretching your legs in front of you. Eren hung around a little awkwardly, not sure of what to do. “You can spend the night, if you want to.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his face, “Do you want me to?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself back until your head met your pillows and lifted your comforter, gesturing for Eren to join you. And that he did, pouncing on the offer and sliding into bed with you, not hesitating for a second to wrap his muscular arms around your waist. He kissed you gently, pulling away to place his lips on your shoulder as you began to drift off.

You awoke alone in your bed, the bright rays of the sun hazy as you blinked the sleep away. You could smell and hear the sizzling of breakfast in your kitchen, your bedroom door swung wide open. You threw your legs over the mattress, stealing a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You cringed at the mascara stains under your eyes, taking a tissue and wiping underneath your lashes to look presentable enough for the man looming in your kitchen. You discarded the tissue, and slid on a pair of fresh panties and Eren’s enormous sweatshirt you had yet to return, and padded your bare feet across your floor to join him.

Eren’s back faced you, his form only clad in a pair of boxers as he focused his complete attention to the frying pans in front of him. You smirked, leaning against your counter, placing your chin in your open hands.

“Good morning, Chef Eren,” you teased, catching him off guard as he jumped a bit.

He turned to face you, hair a complete mess as a boyish smile graced his face, “Morning, princess. I hope you don’t mind my mess.”

“It smells amazing, so I guess I can figure out a way to forgive you,” you sighed dramatically. “Only if there’s coffee involved, though.”

“Way ahead of you,” he moved his legs over to your coffee machine, a pair of steaming muga awaiting his hand. He grabbed one, a plain white mug that matched the rest of your kitchen set, and set it on the counter in front of you.

“If you’re trying to earn extra credit, it’s working,” you said, dumbstriken.

“Gotta’ show you I’m boyfriend material,” he wagged his eyebrows, turning back to the frying pan before cutting the heat off. “I couldn’t find your plates, though.”

“Cabinet above the sink,” you directed, pulling out a stool from underneath your kitchen bar. “Forks and stuff are in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

Eren nodded, collecting two plates and the necessary utensils from their designated areas. The sight of eggs and bacon made your mouth water, and you were about to get a key made specifically for Eren to waltz in every morning to cook you this glorious meal every single day. You thanked him as he set your plate in front of you, and you dug in.

“Eren, it’s so good,” you complimented after chewing. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

He simply laughed, and the two of you fell into a pleasant conversation. And then by the time mid day rolled around, the two of you had talked all about where you’d be spending the evening. The night had ended just like the one before in mind blowing sex, the morning after repeating itself, and again, and again.

A month later, you had updated your Instagram bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas, rock and roll, and Eren Jaeger’. And when it had come time to update your OnlyFans content, you were more than happy to have your own personal photographer to use at your discretion. Just as long as you continued to wear his necklace, Eren would take as many pictures as you needed him to, knowing you’d end up in each other’s beds at the end of the session anyways. And he’d continue to follow you, this time though, you’d gladly send him his favorite pictures for free.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren smut #eren fluff #eren fanfiction #attack on titan eren #aot eren #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren fic

[ganymedesclock]

So I discovered the trailer for Belle (2021), and it’s making me think about what I love about Beauty and the Beast riffs, and what makes a story scratch that particular itch for me or not.

And I think a huge part of it for me is the examination of monstrosity as a social role. To just use Disney’s animated classic as my base for comparison here, Adam, The Beast, is not literally cursed with fur and fangs, claws and horns- he has those things, and may have mixed feelings about them, others certainly have bad reactions to them-

-his curse is ostracization. His curse is to not be seen as human. What actual, physical features he has are irrelevant to that. They’re just quirks he can learn to live with, or a further excuse to tell himself he deserves this isolation, this frustration, this misery.

So the breaking of the curse, to me, is not the scene where Belle sobs confirmation of what we knew well before then into his stilling chest and brings him back, minus those quirks- if anything, that his happiness comes with the loss of those things has seemed to me (and I’m not alone) as almost something of a betrayal depending on how it’s framed.

By contrast, to me, the breaking of the curse is the ballroom scene, and the moments leading up to it. Adam returns to Adam, rather than The Beast, at the point that he decides that he deserves to be treated like a human being- not as a labor of love from Belle, but from himself. Yes, it’s love with Belle that they dance together, that they have this ball scene when there’s no high society to impress, but before that point, he had to make a decision; that he can clean up and dress nice and have an evening. That he deserves to.

When we first see The Beast, he has all of the means and resources to act like a prince, to present like one. He could make himself comfortable and be surrounded by splendor, but the truest thing he suffers under is he’s ceased to see himself as worth the effort. It’s not as if he could cut the fur down and prune back his claws, file down the horns, and look the way he feels he ought to- the way he thinks he should. He’s broken every mirror in his house except for the one he hides from, and this is a gesture of absolute defeat. He knows what he looks like. He can’t pretend he doesn’t. The only way he can tolerate this is not looking at himself.

As a neurodivergent queer person, the monster in the mirror is something I have a very complicated relationship with. I have an “advantage” in some ways. My appearance is not shocking to most people. I do not benefit from an obvious mobility aid or assistive device; I speak within a range people think of is normal. I have an “unusual haircut” for a “girl” and I don’t aggressively correct people on my pronouns or presentation.

But I’ve always had this feeling, that perhaps, my fangs and fur were simply easy things to trim off, and it’s so easy to wonder, would I still be okay if they weren’t? Because really, it’s none of the granular details that make a monster. For every imagined horror creature, there’s almost certainly a real animal it resembles, and real animals are not monsters. A monster is a monster; anything else, we believe, has a place, has a home. Deserves to exist.

To be a monster is to be a thing that doesn’t fit, or, more directly, to be a monster is to be a thing that is unaccepted. Rejected for not fitting. Unworthy of love, from within, or without.

At the end of the day, I know, factually, I am not a monster. I know that I’m a real person. I know that I deserve dignity and respect and love, even if only from myself. I’m not owed another person to love me just to prove that I can be, but, also, no man is an island; as humans we seek each other one way or another, romantically or platonically. That’s a fact of anyone, not just people who struggle to see a real person when they look at their reflection.

And yet, at this same time, I can’t help but feel betrayed, left behind, when the narrative goes that if the monster does everything right its reward is to be shaped into the likeness of a Real Human Being. Because you can’t just pull a feathered skin off me and make me like I “should be”, like my various diagnoses and self-identifications all present me as an aberration from. If you showed me a me without any of those qualities, that’s honestly the thing I’m the most afraid of, a me without me. A Miss Perfect who’s a good, normative daughter, and in my insecurity I wonder if people would like her so much better than me that they wouldn’t miss if I was gone.

Which, that’s nonsense. I know a lot of people who care about me the way I am. But nobody ever said fears had to be rational.

At the end of the day, as much as I hate the idea of being a monster to others, I also relish the notion of qualities that are categorized as monsters. I love dragons. I love putting big, horrible teeth and leering eyes and wings and claws on heroic characters. Because brought into the light, qualities are just qualities. And if you bring those qualities into the favoring, soft light of stories about human connection, romances, queerplatonic bonds, friendships and found family alike, those qualities can even be charming, alluring, inspiring; a character can look like anything and we still feel a rush of reassurance that this specific character is there.

And that’s the other side of Beauty and the Beast: Adam is running away from being a monster, and Belle is trying to run away from who she is, too. Because Belle is the other side of that trap.

Let’s be honest; it isn’t just that Belle’s an outspoken woman with opinions. It’s that she’s pretty. She’s the prettiest girl in town. She’s someone people want, people have expectations for- and those expectations have little room for what she actually wants. Hell, that’s one of the major dangerous driving forces of the climax- Adam nearly gets murdered by a mob because Belle made a choice that her community really didn’t like, especially Gaston, and it’s easy to point to Adam as the wrong choice because he’s pointy.

“Beauty”, as much as “The Beast”, are dehumanizing categories that people are sorted into. The doll and the monster. One is considered beneath monstrosity; beguiling, an object of appeal and desire but not someone with opinions, oh no, and not someone able to make a choice that you disagree with. People driven to the fringes by opposing forces but regardless find each other in the place they’re trying to find room to breathe in.

And that, I think, is one way some of these riffs can, for me personally, miss the point- and that’s not a mark against them, it’s just that there’s a specific thing I see in this story, and it’s very specifically not, “to be beautiful and desirable to mass public consumption is the way to be happy; we will have a story about how to rehabilitate someone so they can be beautiful too” but rather, “what does it mean when people stop seeing you as yourself, whether the alternative is perfection or a monster? what would you do to be seen clearly?”

#writing ruminations #beauty and the beast #readmore