#you are all so sheltered its not even funny

[heliiacus]

to traverse this with you

tags: armin x reader, forced proximity, bathing together (technically), sexual tension, flower crowns & sentimentalities, love confessions, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, reader uses she/her pronouns

warnings: sexual content - MDNI!

words: 6.8k | masterlist

They used to love one another, long ago. Not loudly, nor ferociously, or even in a way that the other knew about, but they did. She knows that now. It could have stayed simple. They could have stayed apart. It has been years since she's been deployed to Marley, to live and work under a secret identity; and grieve as she may have for him, she could have lived with it. She really could have. They could have stayed star-crossed, torn away by war, but things just had to get difficult. Now, with tensions rising, she is forced to relocate – to trek through the lone mountains in the desolate Marleyan wilderness, in an attempt to clandestinely reach a port outside Liberio. And in another world it would have, perhaps, been a task of a casual undertaking. It could have been simple. Were it not for him, by her side: the man she has grieved for this entire time. Were it not for this one simple, stupid mistake.

It is the day before the night they would spend last in these mountains, and she does not think about it.

She does not.

When she wakes, she finds she is not the first. She finds him smiling faintly, his hand brushing at her temple as he wakes her. She laughs, or she tries to, chuckling weakly in the midst of the sleep that is pulling her back.

She does not think about it. Instead, she rises, chattering lightly about the upcoming hike. Instead, she keeps hold of the dream she had that night, wishing their endless, sheltering road into this waking world.

When they walk, she stays a step ahead, soles aching each time he would catch up. And still her mind feels burdened, swollen with the afterthoughts of the harbour in these mountains; of her time here, tied by the hip to the man who just keeps, incessantly, not letting her step be ahead.

It isn't until he takes another step forward that her mind clears. He steps in front of her, hand outstretched towards her, and she pauses – all of her does. She looks to him, and then she follows his gaze, and then she sees it: alive, murmurating – a bend of a river, its stream gentler than she remembers it. She hears it now, speaking softly.

"Is that the same one?" He asks her, eyes wide. He is laughing before she confirms it, the sound light and tittering.

"It is," she laughs with him, head shaking at the absurdity, and as soon as she feels his hand on hers, she takes off, running towards it. Armin's laughter echoes loudly, oscillating between the hills, and he follows her, step in step.

Her backpack thuds when she slings it off her shoulders. The jacket she wore follows swiftly, though much more gingerly this time around. It isn't until her shoes are off that Armin protests: "Wait," he tells her, loudly at first. "Wait," he repeats, weaker, and then he is at the foot of the river, hands in the water. "Won't you get cold? And we're so close to the city, what if someone passes by?"

"Armin," she says, her sternness so feeble in the wake of her snicker. "It has been days since we've been by a body of water. I don't care how close we are to the city, I am bathing, and I am bathing now."

"But what if–" and he turns around then, so swiftly she sees him stumble in his step, and his ears burst into a scarlet red; all because he'd peered at her hands, reaching to the top button of her shirt.

"Join me or take watch," she tells him, laughing as she sees him bristle at her words, his back tight and shoulders rising; she swears she can hear him mumble, right beneath his nose: not funny, she thinks he says, and she has the decency to let her shoulders shake quietly.

"Fine," he finally tells her, back turned to her. He points in the far-right direction of the river. "You go there. I'll bathe here."

Amused or not, now she finds herself undressing swiftly, feeling, with a tension in her stomach, that it is her turn to bristle. Though she turns away, she does not hear him undress – not until she wades into the water, bar of soap in hand. He'd waited for her, she realises, and she feels the skin of her throat heat at the thought.

Here, in the flowing water, she feels the cold within it bite her, but this, still, feels good – or she tells herself that, ears sharp at attention as she hears Armin join her in the water, several feet down the stream. Her breath hitches at the sound, chest contracting against her will; she hears him clearly, the water stirring at the disturbance of his body, and her hand nearly trembles as she drags the soap across her skin.

They wash in silence, her skin on pins and needles. She thinks he will say something; she thinks she should say something. Instead they stand, backs facing, bathing in the stream. It is cold, so cold, and yet the skin of her back heats inexplicably, muscles taut and tense. Her fingers dig into her scalp, begging her mind to clear with the soap, and it is when it flashes in her mind – urgent, tantalizing, the urge to turn around – that she sinks herself whole into the water, her hair feathering before her eyes.

She gasps when she rises, and she hears him – meek and startled, no doubt seeking to ask if she's okay. "I’m done," she says before he can, before her mind catches up to her again. "I’m getting out now."

He is quiet, for a moment. She knows he stands there, unmoving – turning, most likely, even further away from her. Eventually, he tells her: "Okay," and it sounds so horribly stiff.

She dries and dresses swiftly; too swiftly, hands shaking, buttons defiant. She nearly mixes up her shoes. Her hair drips down her back, rivulets running across the skin that is bare, and she thinks it should cool her, she thinks she should be cold – but each part of her heats, near blazing.

When she is done, she just stands there, hands in fists; curling, uncurling, over and over, breath difficult and strained in her chest. She hears, with an agonizing awareness, as Armin walks out the water, as he dries himself quietly, as he dresses. She keeps her eyes shut, as if in some sort of penance, and her breath does not still until she knows he is done.

Then he is by her side, and he touches her hair – and she gasps, startled by his proximity, his eyes wide as he steps back. He raises his hands, apology on the precipice. "I’m sorry," she says ahead of him. "You startled me."

"I was just.. Your hair," he says, gesturing in its direction. "Won't you get cold? Does it take long to dry?"

She gapes at him, momentarily. Then she bristles, taken aback by her own reaction. She takes a strand into her hands, the one he has touched. "Not too long," she says, and she is stricken as she feels this staggering urge for him to touch it again. "It's warm today. It'll take a few hours."

She looks back at him. He looks back at her. He seems to ease, a sort of relief coming over him, and yet still he seems tense, shoulders hunched as if in worry.

"Okay," he breathes, hands at his sides. "Okay, well, um – let's keep walking."

"Let's," she says, just as absently.

And they do. And the longer they do, the easier breathing becomes. The further the river is, the quieter it grows, so does her mind, and it seems like Armin's does, too – though slow, their chatter picks back up, and all the while, she watches him pick lone flowers on their path, weaving them into a wreath.

"Mikasa taught me," he tells her along the road, smiling fondly at his creation. She, in turn, watches with awe as his fingers weave at it with so little effort. "Back in Shiganshina."

"We didn't make these where I grew up," she tells him, keeping up her step with the man. "Is it difficult? You make it look effortless."

"It's easy," he tells her, turning to grin at her – that soft, private smile he seems to have reserved only for when she can look him in the eye. "I'll teach you. Here," the man stops, reaching the wreath out to her. His eyes glint in the mid-afternoon light, and the wind is still. "Put it on."

She blinks at him. "Put it on?"

He just chuckles at her. Then he steps closer, and she, so suddenly, becomes aware of the hair sticking to the nape of her neck. "It's a crown," he tells her softly, hands above her head. His hands don't touch her as he becrowns her, and yet it feels heavy on her head, heated from the ghost of his fingers on the stems. Then he looks down, and he grins wide, as if charmed. "There you go."

Her cheeks heat. "I feel ridiculous," she admits to him, and yet she can't help but begin to unravel beneath his look, so warm and attentive and, most oddly, proud; as if he'd really made it for her.

He laughs at her words, loud and unabashed, and he does not take a step back. "To be fair, it's for kids mostly," he admits, but they were kids no longer, she knows that now – standing pinned in front of him, she finds that the lightweight, feathering innocence of their childhood friendship has long since transformed, taking shape of something larger, something intricate and complex – something, she knows, now way out of her control. And even still, the chrysanthemums lay heavy and tight around her, and she can't help but feel her heart bloom with them, flowering under the sun within his gaze. "It looks good on you," he tells her then, and what is she to do? She smiles widely at him, hand touching at the petals.

"Let's go already," she says with no heft to the words, and he does so gladly, step in step.

They walk until evening, one that comes quicker than the rest, the sun now giving way to the coming colder, darker months. They make no stops until then, none except one – a time when she bounds for a growing sapling at the edge of their road, seeking, at Armin's advice, to hang the crown there. It would be no good to pull attention in Liberio, he mused with her sadly, and she'd told him then, she did – she will find a good place for it. With Armin ahead, waiting for her, she reaches upwards to lay the crown upon the budding tree, and there is only a moment, fleeting and precious, where she thinks to stuff the crown into her pack, to keep it safe and sound forever, crumpled or not, but then she decides to not. She leaves the crown where it shall be, somewhere growing, somewhere safe, and then she runs back to Armin, ready to soon set camp.

That same night, by the fire, he teaches her how to weave it – five blossoms in each of their hands, he teaches her, over and over, until hers looks just like his do, and she is laughing lightly, easily, triumphant for walls know what. It doesn't still until she feels his hand on her hair again, touching a strand – tentatively, this time; fearlessly. "It's dry now," he tells her, hand still on her hair; even though it has been dry for hours now.

And they sit closely, side by side, until the embers smolder weakly, giving in to the cold weather. They sit until they should tire, even if they don't – fuelled, she knows, by the second breath of the knowledge that this night will be the last.

They don't part, not really, when they go to sleep. They lay as close as they would, voices hushed with a faulty exhaustion, and though she feels her blood heat and her heart pump, though her mind burns with this feeling of his hands at her back, she can't help but think it: it is the last night. It is the last night. And she feels a sort of desperation surge through her, keening and clawing at her heart, and though she knows she won't be separated from him, she also knows something has changed between them, here, in-between these desolate hills – and she does not want it to end.

She finds herself, despite her own better judgement, clinging to him: she finds herself pulling herself closer, her hands twisting tightly into the back of his shirt, seeking, almost futilely, to close this horrid gap between them; and he makes this sound, thick and deep in his throat, and before she can even think anything of it, his hands pull at her, sinking into the flesh of her back. He pulls her closer, closer, as if tugged by the same kind of desperation, or as if, perhaps, he'd been waiting to do so, all these nights.

She's so close she can smell the soap on his skin, and she can smell the faint vanilla that follows him each day. She lays her head at his throat, nearly feeling the pulse that trembles within it, and her hands do so of their own accord as they sink into his hair, soft; far softer than she'd imagined, softer even than it used to be. And she sighs then, feeling him flush against herself; she feels as if some urge has been sated, as if some fear – soothed, and she barely notices her nails grazing at his scalp. She would not have, if it weren't for him – if it weren't for him, for this soft gasp at the crown of her head. If it weren't for the foreign hardness growing near her thigh.

All at once, his entire body stiffens, and his hold changes. She hears him inhale, sharp and stern, and she feels him try to rise, to move away – she hears him begin to apologise.

"Stop," she tells him, breathless, and he does; and all at once she makes the space – to look at him. To look right at him. She feels his heart thud dangerously hard beneath her palm. His eyes are wide, wild with a panic that seethes within his chest, and she looks at him, feeling his hold on her waver. Quietly, she finds the words; quietly, she asks him: "Is this how you feel?"

His eyes grow downcast, a blush so harsh crossing over his face. He takes a moment, or perhaps he doesn't – time stretches all the same, and then he replies with a simple: "Yes."

And it is the way he says it. Shy, and embarrassed, but so tight and so fierce that they just lay there, not speaking for a moment. She lay feeling the heart at her palm, thud, thud, thud. She finds herself, in an almost grotesque manner, wanting to reach for it – to soothe it, in any way she'd know how.

Instead, her hand slides upwards, soon reaching the skin of his throat, at which he holds his breath. Then her hand settles at his jaw, and he sighs, the sound rattled and forced. He says her name, softly, so softly, his voice so strained it almost sounds painful to her ears. Her hand splays across his jaw, and all the while, she can feel him so clearly against her thigh. He leans into the contact, as if pulled, as if magnetized, eyes closing and shut tight, his face near screwed. Her hand nearly shakes with the fervor that enters her, as if from him to her, as if it were made of the same material as the warmth they have shared all these nights.

Once more, he exhales harshly, and she feels it fan against the thin skin of her wrist.

"Look at me," she finds herself saying, as if dazed. And he does. His eyes rise as if on command, as if he were in a position where he would not deny her anything, and it twists at her heart. He looks at her as if he were stricken, a deer caught in a hunt, awed by the glint of the arrow. "Armin," she breathes, the name leaving her lips on instinct. "It's okay."

"I don't want you to feel.." he trails off, and then he gasps, as if the word were too heavy for him to even say it. His hands grow soft around her, more hesitant – but his hold does not, and neither do his eyes, steeled and focused and so, so conflicted,

"Obligated?" She finishes, her thumb so close to his lip. Her heart is rabid. He screws his eyes shut again, for a moment so short it seems meaningless, and then he opens them, and then he looks at her again, and her mind unravels at its seams when she sees the look in his eyes. In it, a craving grows, an unfiltered affection which burns high and deep within him – deep down, she knew it was there, she knew it, but now that she sees it, so clearly and so brazenly, she finds herself drowning, and sinking, and unmoored all at once.

"Tell me clearly," she nearly pleads with him, control melting at the edges. "Tell me clearly, Armin: do you want this?"

"I do," he chokes out, "I do. I..” And her palm, snuggled so flushly against his jaw, heats. Her thumb moves, almost of its own accord, and it brushes against his lower lip – and instead of finishing his sentence, Armin gasps. His hand, once so tentative, lists reflexively to her wrist, wrapping around it, holding it there, at his jaw. He looks at her with eyes wide and transfixed, nearly pleading – no, not nearly enough. He is pleading with her. He may not say it, but he is.

Her hand twitches in his hold. Her breath flutters. And then, once he sees something in her, he does plead with her. "Kiss me," he tells her, voice so low and thin it drives a punch straight through her core. "Please," he whispers when she begins to pull herself closer, and then again, as their lips are an inch apart: "Please." And there is no shock when she does. No all-encompassing jolt, unlike she expected. But he shifts. His entire being does. As if unwound by some oath, there is no breath shared between this and the moment she feels his lips on hers, and by then all else becomes moot point.

Her heart sings, unwound, at the feeling of his hand at her jaw. Her hands find his hair again, winding into it greedily, and she pulls him closer, closer, and he abides her – rolling over to press on top of her, breath hot as he kisses her back, as he kisses her first – as he sucks on her bottom lip, as he hums when she does the same. It is chaste, and gentle, and simple, and she feels drunk on the feeling of him kissing her, then parting, breathless, then kissing her again; of him holding her there, bereft of any hesitation, their kisses longing and heavy with yearning.

And it is she, then, who deepens the kiss, it is she who tugs at his shirt, she who brushes her tongue against his lip, and it is as if a second wind passes into him at it. His hands nestle into her hair with a fervor, and she lets him, angling her head back, letting him take hold of her. He deepens the kiss, jaw tight as their tongues brush against one another, and there's this sound that leaves her throat, low and quick and so desperate, and he pulls away at it, gasping for air. His forehead touches hers as the both of them heave, watching one another, and the gaze with which he looks upon her bursts with a longing, enveloping her whole. He pulls away, just a fraction, as if overwhelmed with the suddenness of their circumstance, and he takes her hand off his cheek, he pulls it tightly, flushly against his chest. He holds it there with an urgency that speaks to her before he does, and he looks pained for a moment, desperate; as if trying to tell her something through the gesture alone – as if he were looking for words that have lived in him for months, years.

"It's yours," he says, tone burnt with a passion that steals her breath. "Do you feel it?" He asks, her palm against his heart, loud – so loud. "I’m yours."

She blinks hard and ruthless, keeping back the tears that burn through her, and a fierce relief floods her. She tries to tell him, to say 'me too', but her tongue ties itself together, so instead she pulls at him, she leans into him, and she kisses him, and kisses him. "Armin," she whispers into him, "Armin." Hands in her hair, lips at her jaw, she feels weak in his hold, so carefully attentive. "I want you," leaves her mouth, feeble and desperate, and she repeats it, just as weakly, and he gasps against her lips.

"Do you know," he says in-between the pants, "do you know how long I've dreamt of you?" She tries to answer, she does, but his gaze, dark and blooming, has her pinned; his thumb brushes at her cheek, and it has her bewitched. "Every night," he continues, leaning to kiss her once the words pass, and he stops right before it. "Every night." He kisses her, brief and chaste. "Here," he angles her neck, and she lets him, feeling his lips at her throat; then his teeth, grazing gently. "When you left." His tongue follows, a wet line drawn across her clavicle. "Before you left."

Her breath shudders at his attention. It suffocates her. Her hands tremble in his hair, but so unlike they have ever before. "Please," she pleads, for what even she does not know, and he looks at her, he rises and he looks right at her, a sort of grief, an intensity settling in his eyes.

"I want you," he repeats. "I want you. Let me have you, Y/N. Please."

"Have me," she breathes, her palm cupping gently the skin of his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, the entirety of him leaning desperately into the contact. "Make me yours."

It is as if it takes a moment to settle for him. As if he needs to decide if he truly believes what he's just heard. And then she sees it: a spark, a fire, and then a forest burning, all enchanted into his eyes, locked with hers.

Then his eyes are on her shirt, on the button he'd been so awfully shy about this morning, and he looks back at her, a question in his gaze. Her hands leave him, settling on the button, then reaching back to where they belong, curling around him lovingly – letting him decide what he wants.

And he does. Hands precise and gentle, her shirt is undone by them, and then he helps her out of it, the span of her upper body opening to him. He inhales, the sound trembling, and as he watches her so, so intently, his frame shudders when he touches the bare skin of her shoulder. He gasps, hand nearly twitching against her skin. Then he looks back up at her, meeting her gaze, and she sees a wildfire in them.

And with just a tinge of hesitation, he lowers himself to kiss her sternum, urged forward by the soft gasp that leaves her lips. He kisses lower, and lower, and then he kisses at her breast, tongue soon curling around her nipple; softly at first, then harder, spurred on by the whine that escapes her throat. And his kisses trail soon after, slow and steady and so meticulous in their exploration of her, and she sucks in a breath when she feels a hand of his settle on the buckle of her belt.

"Is this okay?" He asks her, pausing to look up at her, and her chest blooms with a warmth at the tentative care in his eyes.

"It is," she says, her hands joining his upon the buckle. "Armin," she calls, and he stays still, he stays looking at her. "I've never done this before," she admits, the gentle grasp he has on her hip now searing her from the inside out. She shifts beneath his gaze, which flutters, then steels in an odd, indecipherable way.

"That's okay," he breathes, and she feels his fingers ghost over the skin of her waist. "I have. I will.. I'll take care of you." And she feels it, his hand twitch lightly upon her skin – and she sees him bite the inside of his cheek. And then he asks her: "Are you sure you want to?"

"Yes," she tells him, quick and so desperate that it seems to spur a different kind of need in him, and she dare not feel embarrassed at being so open, so flayed before him. "Yes," she repeats, unbuckling her belt, and this time he does not hesitate. He drags her pants off her frame, gentle and decisive in a manner she has already learnt from him, and as she lay there with her knees pushed together, his hands nestle at the back of them, looking at her, once more, with a gentle question in his eyes.

And he won't do this himself, she knows this. Her thighs tremble visibly as she spreads them for him, and a heavy sigh leaves his chest, and then his eyes burn into her, at her – watching her naked before him, legs spread for him. He lays a cheek against the top of her thigh, gaze transfixed on her, his eyes heavy-lidded.

"You're so pretty," he tells her breathlessly, as if lost deeply in thought, as if he'd ached to tell her that for so, so long.

Her insides flip, watching him tower over her spread legs, and she has a distinct, mind-numbing realisation that it is him who watches her with those ravenous eyes. It is Armin who holds her thigh, who's pulled her closer to him. Him who seeks to please her; to have her to himself.

She fights to breathe in. Her chest caves beneath the feeling, leaving her breathless and utterly pliable in his fingers. All the while, he watches her, needy intent shimmering with something larger, stronger. Yearning roils in him, she sees it now. And then he leans down, forward, to kiss at her thigh, and her mind grows blank and empty. He kisses her again, and again, trailing a path closer to her core, pausing only to graze his teeth at her, only to nuzzle into her flesh.

Then, so, so close to her, he looks back up at her, and he asks, voice low: "Can I kiss you here?"

"Please," leaves her, and it is all she can muster, but he does not need more from her. He leans in, his tongue curling into her tentatively and so, so slowly, his palms gliding down her thighs as he settles comfortably between them. He licks a trail through her folds, centering around her clit, and she keens, whining pitifully. Her hips strain on reflex, pulled closer to him, and he pulls away for a moment, smiling up at her.

"So pretty," he repeats, and then his hands sink into the flesh of her thighs, holding her back in place with a strength she did not know he has. Then he closes his mouth around her, and the pleasure is so sudden and violent, she feels as if she caught on fire. She loses composure, far faster than she'd imagined she ever would with him, and soon, hips locked in his vice grip, she has nothing else but pleading, but tugging, desperately, at his shirt, or at his hair. He licks and sucks at her with a firm pace, humming into her core, smiling as he hears her slowly, slowly come undone at his attention. And he watches her as he pulls pleasure from her; eyes dark and heavy, sated in a way she knows a wolf only could be, and she can't do anything, she can't do anything but pray for his name as she comes with his tongue at her core, lapping at her as if he were a man parched.

He continues to lap at her, greedily at that, even when she tugs at him once more, eager to feel him against her, but he does not give in. Instead, he pleads with her to go easy, to let him be greedy. "Let me take my time with you," he tells her, kissing at her thigh, "please."

And so she does. It is only when she's trembling in his hands, wound tight with a different, insatiable pleasure building fiercely in her, that he finally rises to meet her lips, nestling flushly between her legs. Her hands are back on his shirt then, shaking, undoing his buttons, and he lets her, towering over her as he watches her. He says her name softly, and he repeats it when he lets her take it off him. Then he takes her hands, he collects them so gingerly into his hold, and he touches her cheek.

"Do you want to continue?" He asks her, his gaze so sweetly concerned. "Are you sure?"

Her hands shake in his. Her exhale trembles. Her voice fails her. She needs to tell him – how desperately she's dreamed of him. Of this. Instead, she frees her hands, and she settles them at his jaw. "I need you," she tells him with such an earnestness that she's sure, she's sure he knows. And he sighs then, body wracked as if in relief.

Her hands reach for the clasp of his belt tentatively, and he lets her, but then undresses himself. She watches him, an odd sort of impatience beginning to burn at her from the feet up, and her eyes rave over the span of his chest, her own burning at the sight of him: lean and muscled, a soft, light trail of hair growing down his stomach, one that she feels an urgency to touch. He catches her gaze as he takes off his pants, pausing for just the briefest moment, and she holds it there as he undresses himself whole.

Then he pauses on his knees, his hand on her thigh, and there, as he stand there, he seems overcome. She thinks she knows what he feels: bare before one another, open beyond she'd dared dream of, it is as if the years spent together and the years spent apart all come together, to a close, undulating and culminating into this one, singular moment. Then he leans towards her, hand at her waist, and he kisses her: so deeply, so fervently, it steals all breath from her.

"Are you sure?" The words ghost over her lips, and for a moment she is taken with his eyelashes, long and crowning along his eyes, so filled with an emotion that has her chest in knots.

"I am," she tells him, hands at his cheeks, and she nearly cries. "I am."

His breath wavers and shakes as he enters her, which he does slowly, carefully, with one hand at her thigh for purchase, the other finding hers, clasping them together tightly. He watches her attentively, almost hawkishly; looking, she realises, for a sign of pain, or of discomfort.

And she lets him. She lets him take his time with her. She drowns in his meticulousness, in the careful nature with which he holds her; with which he comes to a hilt inside her, a rattling sigh leaving his lips, so restrained and so overwhelmed that she knows. She knows: he doesn't even feel it, the pleasure. Not until he knows that she does, too.

And by the time he is fully inside her, there is a gentle, sudden piercing – and then, just like that, it is gone in a flash. She feels a stretching that is both foreign and right, and then he whispers her name, so delicately that it has her gasping. Suddenly, his hand leaves her thigh, and it is at her cheek, and he is looking her in the eye, he is asking her, with so much unrestrained care: "Does it hurt?"

"It does not," she tells him, and then she is pulling him closer, then she is kissing him, and her knees rise to meet his waist, her hips urging him to move. "Make love to me," she pleads with him, heart flipping three times over as she feels him smile into her lips, and he does.

He does so slowly, sinking in and out of her with a heedfullness that has her head spinning. He glides in and out, pressed so close to her body, holding her so carefully. She feels him so clearly, stretching her with a tenderness, pushing against delicate spot after delicate spot inside her, and each one has her reeling, and each one never, somehow, ever skips his attention. This pleasure is different, she knows this now; slower, encompassing, dizzying with the feeling of her love inside her. And just like he, she watches him, too; lips apart, eyes glistening, beautiful before her, breathtakingly so. She swallows greedily the small whines that leave his throat each time he thrusts back into her, so breathy and ardent, and soon, very soon, she begins to lose her composure.

She feels it rise in her, tempting and needy, almost harrowing in its intensity; desire, fervor, whatever the hell it is that the poets call it – it feels so much greedier, so much more powerful than she ever could have put to words or imagined, and soon she pleads with him to go faster, to give her more. And he does so, abiding, eager; raising her hips with the one hand at her thigh, and then he looks back at her, almost startled, at the wanton noise that leaves her throat. Instead of stopping, it seems to burst him into flames, too, and he finds that spot again, and again, claiming this newfound land for his own. He fucks into her with a precision, watching her steadfastly, with this greedy, satisfied glint in his eye – and with it, he slowly unravels her. He turns his head, just so, biting gently at the fingers she holds at his jaw, and with a fierce look in his eye, he speaks into the skin of her palm, words uttered in a reverence; sweet words, filthy ones, each one sending aftershocks into her core, and as he rocks into her with a mind-numbing languidness, he asks her: "Does that feel good, sweetheart?"

And it's the way he says it, lustful and needy as he sinks into her flesh – it has her thighs shaking at his waist; it has her whining his name, it nearly has her pleading, pleading for gods know what.

"It does," instead she tells him; "Don't stop," she tells him, and then: "Come closer. I need you. Please, Armin."

And he groans at it, at the way she says his name, pulling her with his hands by her hips, sinking deeper into her at this angle, and he kisses her as she moans, feeling out of control. There he pulls her thighs flushly over his hips, and her head spins from pleasure, and she finds her nails digging into his back, feeling the heat and steam rise from the broken skin. She cries his name out, again, and again, and again, and through it she hears her own name echo back to her, pulled from his lips between the groans and the soft whimpers that leave him. Then he kisses her fiercely, almost sloppily, whining into her throat.

"I want," he gasps, the sounds he makes soft and high–pitched and coiling deeply within her gut, "I want you to come. I want you to come on my cock, Y/N," he pleads into her lips. "Please," he says again, whimpering once more, composure cracking.

He kisses at her skin, her temple, her jaw, her throat, greedily, almost possessively, and she, in turns, pulls him closer to her, seeking to fill this space between them desperately. He lets her, he molds himself to her hold, pliant and eager. And there, there, fuelled by his mewls beside her ear, by the closeness, by that gods-damned vanilla permeating from him to her, she breaks. There, she tells him, finally, with her voice quivering to the last word: "I've wanted you for so long." And his hips stutter at this, and his hold on her thigh grows vice–like, and then his forehead is touching hers, his rhythm slowing, just so.

Then he is looking at her, gaze crested with a warmth so deep. "Say it again," he asks of her, he begs of her, his pace picking up with the words, as if inflamed by them. "Say it again, please, Y/N."

And she does. Again, and again. "I want you," she tells him, hands in his hair. "I've always wanted you," hands on his cheek. "Always."

It isn't until he's kissing her that she pauses, it isn't until she feels herself strain closer and closer as he whispers into her lips, soft things, unspoken things; it isn't until she hears his words that she finally, truly comes undone.

"My Y/N," he tells her, "mine. Mine."

And she cries out, hands seeking purchase at his shoulders, thighs so tight around his waist that it nearly hurts. She falls, and falls, careening rapidly into his hips meeting hers. For a moment, everything grows white, ceaseless and endless, and in that moment she thinks that this is how it should have been; in that moment, she thinks she was never meant to leave. Then Armin follows her, and he, too, cries out, desperately so, and she feels him slam into her harsh and uncoordinated. She kisses him fiercely, swallowing his climax with a greed that was unheard of to her before now, before Armin. They both shake in one another's arms, gasping, noses touching. They watch one another, eyes unwavering.

For a moment, she does not know what to say. She gasps and gasps, her tongue willing to curl only for the syllables of his name. Then he smiles at her. So gently, so brightly; the sight is so familiar that the words come tumbling out of her with an ease she had once almost forgotten. "I love you," she tells him, earnest from her heart.

"I know," he says, and he kisses her. I know, he repeats between kisses, I know; as if to himself, as if in relief, as if having waited, for so long, to hear it – if only just this once. "I love you," he tells her then, and she holds onto him, tightly and fiercely and unyieldingly.

They lay like this for what feels like ages, the mountains surrounding growing quieter, and quieter. She holds onto him, and he – onto her. They do not let go. She feels his heart beat against her own, and they kiss one another: small, fleeting kisses, borne not with shyness but with a gentle, permeating ardour. They lay like this until they are spread thin by exhaustion, hands weak, and here, in the dead of the night, she speaks to him so quietly; "Don't let me go," she pleads with him, hand at his chest. I won't, he tells her, his hand on hers. "Don't let me go," she repeats, "Don't ever. Not again."

"I won't. I promise. I promise."

And they sleep like this, nestled fondly within one another's crooks and edges, touching with their hearts. They do not move, or let go – even when they wake, they can't seem to let go of their hands, even when they ready. Even when they walk to the port, they do so hand in hand, talking little, but glancing often, with fleeting, earnest smiles unhidden from one another.

They feel tense and severe as they walk through the streets of Liberio, however; a goal reached, the end of their journey. It strains them, the hands with which they hold onto each other, but even that soon seems to patter out once they peer at the barren ink of the Azumabito, glinting brightly on the bow of the ship. This ship, they know, is beholden with their friends and allies. This ship, they know, is the end of this road.

And he turns to her, birds crying along the loud crashes of the sea, wind tousling at his hair. He looks so beautiful now, she thinks, and she's enamoured as he asks her: "Ready?"

His hand feels heavy and warm in her own. More than that, she thinks – it feels right.

She looks back at him. Here, right now, there is a moment which seems to stretch between them – one filled with a sadness so inexplicable, so faint, that she barely manages to discern it at all. It feels foreboding, this feeling, as if the road behind them was the easy one, as if the one ahead were predetermined; as if it bears, unbeknownst to them, challenges beyond their imagination.

But she does not think of that. Instead she looks him right in the cerulean eye, gaze as deep and as determined as the sea before them. She smiles at him. And she squeezes his hand.

dividers by arlerts-angel

tag list: @arlerts-angel @levistealeaf

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@nilaaaas @ryoiii

@dilfkentolover @arminarlertssword

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thank you for giving this story your attention 💗 i harbour a lot of pride in it, and it's an honour that so many of you have enjoyed it

#armin arlert #armin fanfiction #armin x reader #armin aot #armin fluff #armin x you #aot headcanons #attack on titan #armin x y/n #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x y/n #levi x reader #jean x reader #eren x reader #aot x reader #aot #snk #aot x you #armin headcanons #armin smut #aot smut #aot fluff #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #my writing

[spicyclover]

No one can hurt you

Summary : A dinner of revelation and tragedy.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

DISCLAIMER : Rewrite and final version of "All the things you said" | Netflix show: One Day at the Time | Elena’s Story part | Season 3, ep 2.  WARNING: mention of physical and verbal aggression! Su*c*de WARNING !R@PE! WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE

DISCLAIMER:  This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts

If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.

The Monaco Grand Prix is in a few days and you will be slowly preparing for tonight’s dinner. Charles decided to organize a small evening for the pilots and their respective companions. It is in a magnificent hotel overlooking the sea that Charles booked the room and privatized the chef of the restaurant. The luxurious life of Monaco in its greatest fullness, you are always amazed by all the secrets that this small principality shelters.

You were third-wheeling your best friend Heidi to that party. She and Daniel invited you after running into you in the afternoon at the marina. Since you were little you know most of the pilots. So you are happy to have been invited to celebrate this new year of racing in Monaco with them. The evening was going well until the subject of the conversation crumbled into something darker.

“I gotta admit, I’m getting kind of confused.” Ends up saying, Checo rubbing his nose with his glass. 

“Oh, my god, me too. What if someone says, “I am not sleeping with you tonight?” And then... an hour later, they’re like, “Eh, fine.” What’s that?” Ask Lando, completely confused. 

“Unsurprising,” Pierre whispers under his breath, laughing. You laugh at with him, ignoring Lando's thunder.

“How many women have said, “Eh, fine”?” Questions Heidi sarcastically. 

“Yeah, I got to make some calls.”

“Now I’m perplexed.” Says Max trying to make sense of everything he heard. 

“I know. It’s confusing. I hate to admit it, but I feel sorry for men. This consent thing is tricky.” Kelly responded and gets up to pour herself more wine. 

“No.” You exclaim annoyed by her comment. “Women always blame themselves, and then the man never has to take responsibility. During rape prevention week at the university, all the signs are aimed at women. “Girls, don’t dress provocatively. Girls, don’t walk alone.” How about, “Hey, guys, don’t rape.”" You look up at Pierre knowing perfectly it will trigger him.

“Oh, my god, why are we talking about that? I took a couple pictures as a joke, and Cece thought it was funny.” Pierre exclaims as he gets up from his chair to get himself another beer at the bar. 

“Did she? Or did she feel like she had to laugh ‘cause she doesn’t know what else to do with your hand on her boob?” Everyone around the table falls silent and waits. You get up from your chair and walk you way to Pierre.

“Ok, sweetie, take it easy.” Adds Sebastian taking your arm and tries to calm the conversation.

“No. He thinks what he did is cute. You are basically a predator.” You accuse, pointing your finger at him. 

“You’re basically a psycho.” Pierre replies, knowing full well it will trigger you.

“Good, call me crazy for defending a woman’s right not to be groped!”

“You’re mad ‘cause the internet told you to be. You don’t know my life or even leave this apartment!” Pierre screams as he approaches you.

“Because of guys like you!” You answer with the same intonation. 

“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, taking your hand for you to sit down.

You and Charles are special. You’ve been like ass and shirt since childhood. You’ve known him since you were six. For as long as you can remember, Charles has always been one of your dearest childhood friends. You have shared so much together. No one has ever made you vibrate like he does. Usually his simple touch makes you calmer and reassuring. But you are no longer able to appreciate this contact that you cherish so much.

“You want to know?” You said, scoffing. “Okay. A couple of weeks ago, Heidi and I were coming home from the movies, and we were holding hands. And we noticed these guys staring at us, and then we changed the sidewalks , and they followed us.” You speak with tears in your eyes. 

“What?” Sebastian says concerned in his voice. His turn your body to him.

“Yes. And they were going, “Come one, you guys, kiss. We really wanna see it. Just kiss.” They thought that was really funny, too.” You continue telling while drinking a sip of your glass.

“It was actually terrifying.” Ends up adding Heidi after Daniel stares at her intently. 

“It was terrifying. And then we finally lost them in a crowd and ran home...” You finish in a huff trying to hold back your tears. Your hand hides your eyes and you try at best to find your calm.

Charles, in his divine goodness, hastens to extinguish you warmly. At first, his touch hurts you and you have only one desire to remove his hands from your dirty body. Yet you cling to him like a lifeline. Deep down, you know it's time. Time to tell what happened that night, a year ago. Nobody dares to speak at your revelation and everyone feels guilty for not knowing sooner.

“Umm... Last year after the Monaco Grand Prix. Lance Stroll raped me. He was my friend, and he raped me in my own bedroom. And then, he threatened me not to tell anyone... but. Why did he do this?” You ask breaking down in tears. “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what... I feel.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sebastian asks tenderly, approaching you rubbing his hand on your back. 

“I tried, but... nobody listened to me.” You respond looking at Lando through your tears. Your eyes pierce Lando’s being. He doesn’t know where to put himself and his cheeks become red. He implores you to keep your mouth shut, but the situation no longer belongs to you. You feel the body of Charles being redeemed against yours and you notice that he followed your gaze.

“You knew.” He accuses Lando turning his attention abruptly towards him.

“I... I.” He tries to defend himself. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh, you think she knew what to do either.” He yells, getting up from his chair and grabbing him by the collar. 

“Charles, let him go!” Orders Carlos. 

“You let her suffer silently when you knew what he did to her. I thought you were better than this. T’es qu’une grosse merde.” You’re a piece of shit

“Oh please, like you would have done something? We all know he’s untouchable and has done it before.” Admitted Lando, pushing Charles away. 

“What?” Sebastian speaks up. This is the first time he has heard this from his former teammate. He never thought he would ever see Lance in this light.

“Nothing.” 

“It’s nothing? He raped her, and now other girls too?” Charles advances again, preventing him from fleeing the situation.

“Don't play fouls, Charles. You were in his hotel room at the party in Abu Dhabi last year, and I quite remember your hands on some teenage girls, groping them.” He said suddenly, pushing Charles out of his way again.

“What?” You speak up, troubled by Lando's affirmation.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Charles turns to you, trying to explain himself. You get up from your chair and walk back as you see him approach.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, pushing him away. “Did you do it?”

“I... It’s not the same thing.” He justified himself.

“Yes. It actually is. Did you grope those teenage girls or worse raped them?” You ask scandalized. Charles, your best friend, your confidant, the one you most trust is capable of the same thing as the person who hurt you the most.

“Oui,” he admits in a small voice. “I didn’t want to.”

“You didn’t want to? What the fuck, Charles. What's wrong with you all?” You yell, taking your stuff and leaving as fast as possible. 

The thought of all this happening to so many more makes you sick. How could nobody speak up about this? You walk down the hotel hallway. You can hear footsteps and Charles's voice telling you to come back. When you get to the lobby, you ask for a taxi home. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you look at him as you push the door out. 

You take your taxi and give him your address. All you want right now is a shower. A warm and reassuring shower. To pull away all those memories and thoughts. You want to scream to the world. You want to smash your entire apartment down. You want to stay in bed for the rest of your life. You want to jump off the roof. You want to cut yourself so that the pain stops. You want to be set free.

You arrive at the complex. Your dark thought runs in circles in your head. Like a robot, you open the door, press the elevator, and finally unlock your apartment. You let your essentials fall on the ground with your bag and coat. Like a machine, you take your shoes off and open the lights. 

The sight of your home, which does not feel like home anymore. Since Lance pushes himself into you while you try to make him go away, this place hasn’t felt like home. You can’t even sleep in your own bed anymore. No matter how many times you clean the sheets, change the bed. This memory comes running back into your mind. Invade you like a parasite. 

You go to the bathroom and open the valve to fill the bathtub. You watch the water. You can hear your phone blowing up with notifications and calls. “Why does this world have to be this cruel?” You think, taking your clothes off. 

Your body envelops itself in the heat of the water, and you close your eyes. Your body slips in the bath. You head underwater. You hear focusing on your heart bit. You enjoy this moment of quietness and solitude. 

That’s it. You feel alone since that night he took your joy, your life, yourself. 

You can feel the water pressure you to gasp for air. Your head starts popping your blood. Your heart rises to find oxygen. You struggle. You have been struggling this long. You want to go, and you want to let go. 

You let the water go in, and suddenly, all the scary parts disappear. The explosion in your head fades away, and you’re not scared anymore. You find it relatively peaceful. Very peaceful. 

Strangely, you’re dreaming. Him with you. On a boat. Feeling the breeze in your hair. The warm sun on your skin. His light touches on your thigh. His breath on your neck. His lips are on your breast. You’re daydreaming. Are you? Is your mind trying to ease the pain in your heart? Is it even the day? 

Then. You open your eyes. You try to scream, but your head is under the water. You feel weak but strong. Sick but healthy. Chaos but at peace. You can feel your body wiggling, but your mind is different. No one can hurt you now. Quietly, your eyelids become heavy again, and what a moment ago hurt you the most now makes you feel good.

The water fills your lungs, and you sink more and more into the darkness. Nobody seems to pull you up. The seconds pass, but you no longer find the courage to go out. The bathtub disappears, and you find yourself in the sea. In a warm and welcoming sea; The Mediterranean. An infinity of blue. An infinity of sweetness. The noises are only deaf sounds, and you feel your brain more and more calm. The sun’s rays pass through the water, and you move further and further away from it. Your eyelids become more and more stretched.

Then you see beautiful blue eyes through the water. No fair. You can’t reach them but can’t stop staring at those ocean-blue eyes. Suddenly, you feel scared. Scared to leave those ocean eyes. You’re afraid, and you’re drowning under the waves of words you haven’t said to them, to you. 

You try to fight back this peaceful state, but darkness is an easier path than light. Suddenly the silence suffocates you, and you miss the sound surrounding you. 

Then comes the darkness.

When you leave the apartment, Sebastian watches Charles running after you. He can’t believe what has happened. He doesn’t want to consider it. How could he? He sees and goes to the door, and Charles is defeated on the ground. He passes by without a look and walk his way to the lobby. 

You have always been a fragile child. Even when you were a child. You were always this little fragile and precious porcelain doll. You’ve never been afraid of anything growing up. Sebastian always loved to see you grow up with him. Despite your age difference, he always considered you his little sister. The little one who needs to be protected from everything and at any cost. Knowing that you are suffering so much hurts him.

In the hallway, the walk seems long and endless, his thoughts wandering toward your shared memories. He remembers many summers spent in the countryside. At your grandparents' meadow, there was a vast field with a few horses grazing on the fresh grass. He remembers that beautiful-eyed little girl running in his direction.

You had dirt all over your clothes. Your hair was braided, and he still remembers the grass sticking in it. He remembers your laughter, which lit up the prairie thousands of miles away. Hearing you laugh has always been his favourite thing about you. Lost, it’s only when the doors block his way out that he remembers he has to go looking for you. He runs through the night towards your apartment.

Charles is devastated. Everything he tried to build with you has just broken in a moment. He feels lonely and ashamed. He wants you to know how much he loves you. How much you mean to him. How much you have become the center of his universe.

Before you, there was racing, and that was it. When you became something more his life change. It was as if you had lit the dormant fire in him. You have extinguished the flame since the death of his best companion, his father. You have given meaning to this quest. The stakes are not won but won for you.

He still remembers the first time he took you to his garage. You were with Sebastian. He was showing you around the Ferrari factory, showing you the different facilities, different parts. You were so captivated by his words, and your eyes were shining like stars in the sky. 

He remembers the moment when your eyes landed on him. The smile you had, and the dress you wore and the clip in your hair. He counts you. Unable to say anything. Captivated by your beauty.

“Hi, Charlie.” You said in your beautiful voice. 

He stuttered and blushed heavily. You laughed gently before putting your lips on each of his cheeks. He likes a kiss, and no, he likes your kisses. 

A hand falls on his shoulder, and he sees Pierre. Tears in his eyes prevent him from distinguishing himself perfectly, but he recognizes his friend.

“Don’t worry. She’ll come back.” He says softly. Taking him by the shoulders to lift him up and bring him back to the room. 

The others are still there. Confused and shaken, no one speaks. Silence reigns in the room, and no one knows what to say. Charles opens the patio door and leaves the fresh night air in the room. The city slowly began to calm down, and he heard the waves regularly hitting the harbour.

Daniel gets up and gets rid of the table. Putting this party away may make us forget the events that occurred. Heidi and Kelly help him while the others put orders in the room. No one dares to go to see Charles.

The hour passes quickly, and some decide to leave. They quickly greet the last remaining. Pierre observes his friend, who has not moved, and still looks at the sea.

It’s only when Charles' phone starts ringing that he looks away. He calmly enters the room and answers.

“Hello?”

You always liked the fields. You always loved hiding in the big wheat fields surrounding your grandparents' house when you were little. This stretch of yellow was as far as the eye could see. You liked feeling the stems between your fingers, the seeds melting to your touch, and the particular smell of wheat.

You remember a hot summer day. Lying on a tablecloth after a picnic, nature calms by this overwhelming heat, especially the calm of this yellow and green nature. You remember the farmer who held the farm. You spent days watching him working. Helping him through the mould. Watching him turn wheat powder into cereal. You remember this great man, always with a grain of wheat in his mouth that was constantly chewing.

You remember the hum that bees made at work. From wheat to wheat, pollen is harvested. You remember the nests in the hives that you created one summer. Your grandfather, with his jumpsuit, would go every morning and inspect the nests, and you loved watching him do it. You also loved to taste honey with each harvest. Honey is good. It’s sweet. It’s sweet. It’s wild.

You remember Sebastian. His blond hair, his smile, the sound of his kart engine. Many hours passed in his company at the track with his dad. You remember your big brother, following him and Sebastian all day long, like the annoying little sister you were. You remember falling from a tree after the boys thought it was a great idea to climb it. You see your brother jumping down the tree to get to you and hear Sebastian running back to the house to get help. You spent the night at the hospital. You broke your arms that summer, and you had a commotion. Your parents were furious and punished your brother for the rest of the vacation. 

You remember your first winter in the mountains. Mornings skiing, and afternoons making snowmen, eating maple syrup, drinking hot chocolate, just playing in the snow. See your happy brother’s face after he managed to get the last pancake.

You remember Sebastian’s victories. To see him move up from category to category. You remember his encounter with Hanna. You love Hanna. She is so sweet and kind. You remember your great jealousy towards her from the height of your twelve years. She who steals your Sebastian. She who steals your second brother. Oh yes, you were jealous, but she knew how to win your heart, and after all, she stayed.

You remember the Ferrari years. Everyone was in red. You saw the world with red glasses. Red like love. Red like anger. Red as the colour. Red as blood. It’s kind of at this time, when adolescence really starts that you start to change. Physically, mentally, and spiritually, you were no longer the wise little girl your parents admired and your brother despised. No, you grew up making mistakes, a lot of mistakes, until you met him.

Him. The golden boy. The one destined to be great.

You remember his perfume, his smell, his laughter, his mimics, his way of speaking, his way of being and his way of simply being. He intimidated you so much; this guy was destined for something big. Whereas you, we never expected much from you besides being pretty, lovely, not disturbing, quiet, and reserved.

Quiet. 

Reserved. 

Pretty. 

In those words, your brain falls into the dark side of your life. The darkened side of time. Painful and unhappy memories. The memories of him, the one who once was your best friend. He who once was your confidant. He who once saw fit to r*pe you.

To find you after the Grand Prix, in your apartment, in your house, in your home. To be a little too drunk, surely. To hold you firmly. To put his lips on yours. To hold your wrists. To put all his weight on your body. To force you into bed. To beg him to stop. To cry in silence. To feel it in you. To feel dirty. To feel unloved.

To feel alone, so lonely, too lonely. 

To find yourself curled up in a ball in a corner. To wait until morning for him to leave. To want to end your life. To end your nights. To seek help. To be abandoned. To be alone. To be dirty. To be silent. To be reserved. To be pretty.

To be pretty. 

To be pretty. 

To be. 

Silent is all you ask for. 

It’s been a long night. The hours have been staggering. The noises of monitors, nurses, doctors, and ambulances invade their ears. No one speaks, and no one dares speak. It is as if a white veil covers the weighing atmosphere and borrows all those present.

The wait is long, too long. They wait patiently for the outcome of this atrocious night, something that does not happen. Sebastian holds his head in his hands, tears have finished flowing, but his eyes are still red. He feels bad. He feels immense guilt. This mixture of shame, sadness, contempt and anger is eating him increasingly as the hours pass and pass before his eyes. He blames himself for not coming sooner. He blames himself for not holding you back. He blames himself for not seeing. He blames himself.

Full of life and ardour, this little girl was smothered under this icy water. Frozen in time. Only the repetitive sound of drops escaping from the pipe disrupted this freezing scene. She hides all her problems behind her smile. Never in his life has he thought of having this vision of you. This pure horror vision of an act yet so courageous. Because it takes courage to think about yourself before thinking about others. It takes courage to put yourself forward and not others. It takes courage to achieve what others have likely failed to achieve.

The roar of the machines stifled Charles. He closed his ears in the hope of silencing them. To see you with your tubes hanging around you, in you. On this hospital bed, this white bed, this room that feels the end. Eyes wet, Charles looks at your pale, serene face. The doctor’s words are dry and not encouraging. Your parents arrive a few hours later, a flight later. They cry. Your brother has tears in his eyes. Sebastian collapses in a corner. Hanna is there; a veil of sadness covers his eyes. Heidi cries in the arms of Daniel, who looks again in the eyes of Charles. Charles holds your hand, your hand. Your hands are cold, frozen by the consequences. Lando doesn’t dare to come in. He feels guilty because he refused to believe you, to reach out to you, see you, and see your distress. He preferred to become blind rather than awake. It haunts him.

Charles, sitting next to you, is watching people walk by. To say goodbye to you, goodbye, forever. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. You’re still breathing. Your heart is still beating. So why do you have to leave? Why did you choose to go?

“Why?” He mumbles one more time, his head against your ear. “Why are you not fighting?” 

“Cha... we have to go.”

“No... I-I-I can’t. I can’t leave her.” His voice breaks in a sob.

“Charles,” Pierre says, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder. “Let her go.”

“No...” Charles pushes him away, gripping your hand tighter. “She’s going to survive. She’s going to live. She has to live. You have to live.” He prays, kissing your cold skin.

Pierre sight and get out of the room. His family, her family, his friends, and her friends are here waiting for him. The visiting hours are almost over. Everyone wants to go back to their house and sleep a bit. They haven’t slept all night. Charles hasn’t slept all night. Pascale enters the room quietly. Staring at his son. 

“Charles. We need to let her rest. Will come back in the morning, d’accord mon bébé?” She says, taking him in her arm. 

He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.

On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?

Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.

The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.

Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?

Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.

Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?

The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.

That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.

"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.

"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?

"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."

"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."

You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.

"One, you will get a major in architecture."

"Two, you can drive an F1 car."

"Three, you can be happy again."

"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."

"Six, I will fight for my life."

At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.

Then... you breathe.

Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.

You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.

If only it could be true.

If only you could be with him.

______________________________________________________________

Hi! Hope you enjoy this final version of the story. It took me sometimes to get back to writing but I'm getting there. I know some of you really like it and it's fill my heart with joy <3

Tag List : tyna-19 dessxoxsworld ynbutbetter alexander-hamilhoe honethatty12 janeholt3 mloyer karmabyfernando omgsuperstarg laura-naruto-fan1998

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #charles #charles leclerc sad #charles leclerc x you

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

About the Lights Out AU, wouldn't the building start crumbling due to weathering and stuff since there's no maintenance? Wouldn't the roof fall apart or like part of it at some point?

oh, yes. yes it would.

#since it's assumedly made of primarily concrete and metal #so it won't break down the way a house would #but that doesn't mean that areas aren't weakened or that there's parts of the building exposed to the elements #broken windows missing doors water damage animals/plants etc #in my mind the neighborhood set is on the ground floor and pretty deep in the building #very much sheltered from areas that would be affected the most by natural building decay / the elements #and wally never explores that far #whether bc he cant get certain doors open or it doesnt occur to him to try #rambles from the bog #wh lights out au #but the building is very much starting to rot around them #which doesn't start to come into play until the end of act one!!! #which! actually its funny that you mention the roof! the roof is important! #much emphasis on ceilings and roofs & how they come into play! #because they Do come into play. #but things even within the actual set do crumble a lil #wally has seen ceilings lights fall and smash things. false walls collapse due to water damage. small sinkholes open up sontworryaboutit- #things slooooooowly decay and wally watches it all happen #rust and chewed wires and mold and peeling wallpaper- #he watches the neighborhood rot & wastes away along with it

[jimingyue]

Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

🖋️ meowful-musings Follow

🕊️ birdwatching Follow

what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine

💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204

op wheres the natural feeding option

🌲 outdoorsy Follow

you guys are getting fed?

#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look

7,192 notes

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE

YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!

☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow

extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3

🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow

as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3

#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....

154,688 notes

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right

❤️ loving-paws284 Follow

um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...

🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow

OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD

🐟 tunafeesh Follow

also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly

🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow

oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks

anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse

#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now

32,456 notes

🍃 naturalliving Follow

BORN TO DIE

WORLD IS A FUCK

猫神 Kill Em All 1989

I am trash cat

410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS

#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly

48,971 notes

🎣 salmonpurina Follow

can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther

#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks

34 notes

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!

🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow

evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever

💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712

make your own pawst

💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721

umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...

👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow

Nyaverage shelter cat behavior

#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up

545,460 notes

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo

💡 discourse-meows Follow

hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks

🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow

1. i was making. a joak

2. i'm literally gay???

#literally what's your pawblem

7 notes

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

i know you fuckers are lying

🍭 gaykittens Follow

this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer

🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow

shut the heull up

988,653 notes

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise

🐁 ladymouser Follow

op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control

🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow

oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us

#long post #cat #fake dashboard #unreality #dashboard simulator

[bunni-v1]

hii,

Can i request che‘nya, neige and rollo finding out you‘re a girl please?

(Just if u weite for em)

Freaking love ur serie 😍

Side Characters Find Out You’re A Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Rollo

Info: Che’nya, Niege, and Rollo x Reader

🍓Thank you! I'm glad people enjoyed this series so much, it was very fun to write. This is the last part I'm afraid, but I hope it is a fitting goodbye to what has been a very long-running series now lol. Excited to move on to other things!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing

Che’nya

-Oooooo, Che’nya knows something is up the moment he (creepily) stalks you and the others from the garden.

-His sniffer isn’t as good as Leona’s — he’s just a tomcat, after all — but he can smell that something about you isn’t right.

-Plus, he’s a master of bending the truth, he can see through your lie a mile away.

-Still, he has no reason to bother you about it — he doesn’t even know you. 

-He just thinks you’re a little funny that you’d hide something as pointless as this.

-Doesn’t really have confirmation on it until he asks Cater at the tea party.

-Then he later asks Trey who is like ‘Yeahhhhh…’

-Again, he doesn’t really know you, but he does think you’re cute and stuff.

-He sees your around when he sneaks on campus, and he was happy to bump into you at the VDC.

-(He scored your number there, lets go Che’nya).

-Nah, you two don’t really get to interact until Noble Bell College.

-He’s excited to see you again, and really chats you up this time (everyone there thinks its weird, he literally has no reason to talk to you).

-You’re alone with him and Niege and Grim when he drops the bombshell of “A pretty girl like you should be wearing a dress, right?”

-You don’t know if Trey or Cater or even Riddle told him, but you were gonna deck them across the face the second you found out.

-Still, despite him outing you to Niege, he’s really only mildly annoying about it.

-He teases you and picks on you about it, but he’s more like an annoying older brother than a creep.

-He will hang it over your head though, because they way you get all huffy is funny and cute to him.

Neige

-Other than Che’nya— Neige really doesn’t suspect much.

-I mean, look at him and Vil. Feminine men is not his biggest concern.

-He respects you and your pronouns and he’s a real big sweetheart.

-He is… drawn to you, just a little. 

-You’re different from the other students, and you managed to make friend with Vil, so excuse him for being a little curious.

-Despie Vil being vehemently against it, you and him exchange numbers and start talking casually.

-It’s pretty normal stuff, and it’s not like you’re talking every day, but you consider each other friends at the very least.

-You’re both very excited to see each other again at Nobel Bell College.

-Neige feels bad that you’re sort of forced to go and babysit, but he gets to see you again!

-You bump into him and Che’nya at the fesitval, and Neige is… notably weirded out by Che’nya’s overt friendliness with you.

-“He’s never this nice with people he doesn’t know — never. It’s so weird.” He tells you.

-You brush off his concerns, and you live to pay for it too.

-You and Neige were just chilling, talking, and hanging out for the first time in person and Che’nya walked over and joined the conversation.

-All is good until he drops the one-liner of a century, leaving both you and Neige in shock.

-You because how did he find out, Neige because oh my god you’re a woman.

-He feels even WORSE for you now.

-I mean, being the only woman at NRC has gotta be awful.

-He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, bless his soul.

-He just shrugs it off and also offers his room as sanctuary on the weekends if you need it. 

-He does agree with Che’nya, though, you would look very pretty in a nice flowing ballgown!

Rollo

-Bless this little freaks soul. He is about as sheltered as Malleus and about ten times more evil.

-He, somehow, knows something about you is different from the get-go. Not just your inability for magic, no something more.

-Naturally, he is drawn to you, and evermore curious about you and your life at NRC.

-He, being observant, takes note that you are treated slightly differently by your fellow classmates.

-They are generally more respectful and courteous toward you — gentlemanly in some cases.

-It only makes his interest in you grow. What is it that is so special about you? 

-Then he overhears a conversation with Niege and Che’nya, and it all makes so much sense!

-You are a woman, of course you are. No wonder you were so captivating.

-Rollo holds this card close to his chest — he needs not reveal his secrets.

-Malleus is fond of you — as are the other magicians here. That could be useful.

-This information could aid him in his ultimate plan — and he could be your savior from the beasts you live amongst. 

-He reveals that he knows your gender in front of everyone at the festival, and takes you captive as his own.

-He is so diluted in thinking that he is your saving grace, and that what he is doing is so right and justified that he can’t hear you curing him out over his own thoughts.

-Obviously, you get saved by your friends and all is well, but now a whole lot of people who shouldn’t know you are a woman do, and Crowley has to do a LOT of PR work lol.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #che'nya x reader #che'nya twst #rollo flamm #rollo flamme x reader #neige leblanche #neige x reader

[meowpupp]

More of a fluffy/sfw ask—,, puppygirl!reader just wanting to cuddle with everyone. Or being clingy in general. She sees Price sitting idly with his arms spread out on the couch, immediately she jumps on his lap to get a big hug, or it’s night time with pup!Gaz resting on some thick blankets, but on the other hand,,, she wants to make him her pillow! Whether the big mutt likes it or not >:(

To which ends up with Price finding the sweet thing with a content smile, sprawled on top of the other pup who doesn’t mind one bit 🥰🥰🥰

puppygirl!reader who is the most precious, affectionate thing price has ever met. it's almost like you were bred to be adored. big, soft, floppy brown ears, a fluffy tail, thick thighs, and a soft tummy? how could he not spoil you.

ever since he brought you home, you've always craved his touch. he finds it adorable. any moment possible, you're right by his side.

in the morning, when he's making you breakfast, you lean against him. tail rhythmically hitting the back of his leg as you wag it, sleepily nuzzling into his chest. its sweet, melts the vets heart as he soaks up the warmth you always seem to radiate.

it's like you're starved, an addict. any opportunity possible you'll take. price peacefully relaxing on the couch? you're on his lap, nuzzling into his neck, ears twitching and tail wagging as you seek his praise. he almost laughs, amused by how just soft pets and a few small words of praise make you melt.

even when he's away, doing errands or whatever else, you still seek him. he comes home to find you bundled up in his bed. seeking out his scent, his warmth. it's moments like that where he scoops you up, presses a kiss to your forehead, and lays you ontop him.

and if he thought you were clingy with him? well, it's a whole nother world when kyle comes. you're just so excited. price knows you were sheltered practically your whole life. youre already clingy enough with johnny when he visits. but kyle? who lives with you? you can barely contain yourself.

he can see the way you crave kyle affection, following him around the house, seeking him out every half hour. it's funny, one of those moments when he can see how similar to a puppy you really are, trailing after him as if youre lost.

if you're not by prices side, you're cuddled into kyle's. his arm around you, your head on the mutts chest while he watches TV, absentmindedly stroking your soft ears. or even forcing kyle into prices big bed, using his tummy as a pillow. surrounded by the soft warmth of kyle and the comforting scent of your owner.

kyle is always more than happy to indulge. he's not quite as clingy as you, but he thoroughly enjoys the warmth. it's hard being your guard dog, chasing off the other mean mutts that prey on your little self. or snapping at johnny when he holds you a little too rough.

he likes the feeling of being rewarded, the little soft kisses you place all around his face, the way you chrip and giggle happily. it reminds him that you're just a puppy, a cute little thing that needs him. that adores him. and that he adores tenfold.

but your favourite by far is when you get both of them. leaning back against prices chest as he sits, kyle snuggled between your legs on your soft tummy. the whole thing is calm, peaceful. it fills you with warmth, your tail wagging a mile-a-minute, only speeding up when price kisses the back of your head.

#i love fluff #firm believer that despite price being her owner puppygirl walks him like a dog #kyle too #i have heaps of reqs im trying to work through #and that mini series #hopefully ill have some more stuff out soon!! #mw2 x reader #john price x reader smut #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #price x you #gaz x you

[redcoralpot]

Eleganti - Poly!Stuilly x FTM!Reader

If you saw this before it was reposted, no you didn't.

Warnings: Implied internalized homophobia.

Summary: The heat has managed to affect all of you, and the only solution? A date at Stu's house with a dash of nail polish. You're sure they were both thrilled.

-

The summer heat truly had gotten to the three of you, with not even a cool breeze to give you relief. Rich boy Stu Macher’s parents were away for the weekend, again, which left his house the ideal place to take shelter in. If you had to be honest, you did not mind the temperature– kind of. The bottles of nail polish in your bag clinked together as you walked up the stairs; you knew Billy would be able to sit still long enough for it to dry. Stu, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure of. Not without heat and plenty of air flow.

Speaking of the devil, Billy glanced up from his book as you creaked the door open, leisurely spread on Stu’s bed. He raised an eyebrow at your appearance, before going back to reading, shifting a little to the side so you had more room to sit down. A smug grin slowly spread over your lips as you set your backpack down on the bed and unzipped it, making a show of the little, colorful bottles you displayed inside. You scooched beside it, and after setting down a towel in front of you, cracked open the first container.

Seeming to catch the smell, Billy spoke up, “Nail polish?”

“Yeah, want some?” He watched as you meticulously picked the colors you wanted, his mouth pursing.

“Not right now.”

You shrugged, applying a lavender base to your fingernails, “Suit yourself!”

Your hand flinched as the door was shoved open, smearing the liquid down your skin, only to be greeted by the eccentric figure of Stu. Upon seeing the predicament he caused, he bounced his shoulders and held up his hands beside his head, with an exaggerated frown. 

“Uh… whoops!”

He sauntered over, pressing his face into your shoulder. In response, you slapped the towel onto his face after wiping the spilled polish on the material. Stu grumbled something; it was ineligible. 

It eventually slid off on its own, with a little help from the teen shaking his head, “Suffocate me, why don’t you?”

Chuckling, you said, “You were the one who made me mess up, tough guy.”

“I totally meant for that to happen.” He slipped his arm over you, hanging like a sloth.

“If you meant it, then you have to be my test subject!”

Stu made a noise, contemplating. You wouldn’t force him to wear it, of course, but it was funny threatening something so harmless anyway. After just a few seconds, you felt the weight on your back release; Stu had moved in favor of shoving your bag into Billy to make space for himself. Then, the noodle of a guy flopped across from you, sitting criss-crossed with the most shit eating grin you have ever seen. Billy scowled at the rough treatment, but the expression was covered by the other’s knee.

He leaned forward, “Gimme orange.”

“Good choice!”

To prevent smearing, you blew on your covered nails as best you could, before bright orange coated the tiny brush in your hand. Stu seemed giddy as you took his hand, peering down, applying the cool liquid with precision. It was such a contrast to what his hand felt like; rough and as warm as a furnace. In the corner of your eye, you could see Billy’s eyes watching over Stu’s jeans, his book long forgotten. Finally, you finished, and allowed the fidgety boy to hold up his palms. His eyes were wide as he admired your handiwork, flexing his fingers with pride.

Stu tapped the top of Billy’s head with his elbow, “Hey, dude, want some of this?”

“Hm.”

“C’mon—”

“Black.”

You snickered, “I knew you’d crack.”

Billy rolled his eyes and leaned on Stu, holding out a hand. He shivered when you made a slight mistake, and gave you an unimpressed look as you fixed it with the edge of your towel. You could only complete one hand before he stopped you.

“Look who’s gonna be Cruella this Halloween!” Stu sneered, poking the other’s nose.

“Hey, hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You shut the bottle, carefully sealing them all back in your bag, “Fuddy duddy William could be making a new trend.”

“Never call me that again. Is this enough for you two?”

Stu cocked his head, “Lemme think… nope.”

You stretched your body out, setting your belongings on the ground. Opening Stu’s own closet, you ran your fingers over the variety of shirts and robes the guy had. In the very back, there was a band shirt, obviously too small for Stu; he grew out of it by the time he was sixteen. You held it out, studying it, before shrugging and taking it off the hanger. Your shirt flew over your head and smacked Stu in the face, but the air soothed the sweat that was gathering under your double sport bras, at least for a moment. Then, the newer shirt covered everything back up, and the dark material banned anyone from clocking the extra layers underneath.

“Why don’t we go out for ice cream?” you suggested.

Stu pumped his fist, even though your shirt was still clinging to his body. Billy shook his head, a little smile playing on his lips when Stu ran out the door, presumably to get his car keys. You, on the other hand, hesitated when you saw a shadow underneath the shirt, where your chest lay. The only other boy left in the room must have caught on, because you felt a passing hand on your shoulder and a whisper in your ear.

“You look fine, it’s normal.”

He met your gaze. However, someone was getting impatient, as a muffled shout rang through the closed window, “Coming? I’m totally getting pistachio this time, and you gotta be here to see me try it!”

-

#male reader #x male reader #lgbtq #male y/n #gay #transgender #ftm reader #trans male reader #stuilly #billy loomis #scream 1996 #billy loomis x stu matcher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #stu macher x you #stu macher x billy loomis #stu macher x male reader #stu macher x y/n #billy loomis x male reader #poly ghostface x reader #slashers

[writingoddess1125]

Yes Buggy and his hot wife are Roger and Jessica Rabbit, but if I may submit this comparison to the council:

✨Buggy and his wife are The Grinch and Martha May Whovier✨

Oh It Is ON!

In the spirit of the Winter Holiday Spirits! We are doing a Christmas Spin on My Effect Series!

So get you a egg nog with 90% rum maybe some holiday 'cigarettes' sit back and enjoy this clusterfuck idea! 🍃 🚬

P.S IM REALLY HIGH WHILE WRITING THIS SO ITS PROBABLY ALL OVER THE PLACE! ENJOY!

The Grinch and Martha May Effect 🎄

If you like my shit, support me on Ko-Fi because recession!

Link to Main Masterlist

• This Crusty Bastard has had the heart of the most beautiful women in the world.

• And didn't even realize it-

• You had all met on Gol D Roger's ship- Buggy being a snot nosed apprentice with his gaggle of friends- While you being one of the few girls on the ship was a cup bearer for your father. Silvers Rayleigh.

• This made you incredibly off limits to all, Sheltered by a life of luxury your father provided as your only real 'job' was to fill his cup. Even Gol D Roger the famed Captian spoiled you in cute dresses and expensive bows.

• Turning you into the Doll of the Oro Jackson.

• A Princess Wrapped in Silver and Gold

• You still remembered the first day you ment him-

• Both of you 13 years old, fresh faced kids still needing the guidance of adults.

• You'd snuck off from your normal areas, wanting to explore the ship some more. That's till you saw a boy- His face covered in what seemed to be gunpowder as he filled homemade bombs with total care.

• His blue hair peaking out of the red hat and drawing you to step a big closer to get a better look.

• The Tull of your sparkling dress catching the corner of his eye as he spun around quickly holding a knife out.

• Then, Ocean eyes met Your own and time seemed to slow. Ever so slightly- Your cheeks warming as you gave a soft smile.

• "Hello" Your little voice slipped out, Buggy stating at you with unsure interest. A crooked smile on his lips as he greeting you quickly- "H-Hi!"

• "Is something wrong with your nose? It looks kinda funny" Buggy glares hard at you, making you blink in question at his reaction.

• Buggy covering his face, his ocean eyes starting to cloud with tears like a storm eyed he stared at you. "Whats so funny about my nose!? Huh!"

• "Well don't get angry- I don't mind. I think its cute. Im sorry if i offended you" You smile so sweetly, feeling bad for making his sad as Buggy felt his face start to glow.

• "You think.. My nose is cute?" He questioned, making you nod honestly. He giggled into his hands, a high pitch squeaky laugh that made you smile and your heart flutter.

• "Whats your name?" He grins at you, Hearing you actually want to know about him. "Buggy! What about you pretty girl?" Your face flushing at his words.

• "I'm-"

• "(Y/N)!" You heard your name being called before you could speak, recognizing the voice of your father.

• "(Y/N)- That's such a pretty name.. Will I see you again?" Buggy asked, his eyes sparking at such a chance. Your delicate hand reaching forward and tucking a strand of his blue hair back into his hat. "I will try"

• And try you did. For a year the two of you would meet, talking on the deck of the ship for hours till you had to sneak away again. Buggy even using his Chop Chop abilities to help you get back to your room.

• It was tragic to say, but you'd never get a chance to see Buggy for many many years after your 14th birthday- Your Father sending you to an Island to keep you safe as you entered your teens.

• The disbanding of the Roger Pirates aiding in this as well-

• The death and heartache Seeming to follow you as you found yourself handing in the hands of Sir Crocodile.

• Crocodile having had an interest to whoo you for years- as he too had met you on Gol D Roger's ship, finding you the only person more then suitable to be at his side.

• You had never truly accepted his advances, Despite his power, status and more. He didn't have your heart, and you wouldn't give him any part of yourself in compensation.

• Decades it had been like this, still the girl wrapped in silver and gold. Hoarded like treasure for everyone to admire, however nothing more.

• But it seemed the tides were beginning to change- After Crocodile time in Impel Down- as well as the formation of the Cross Guild- You would meet your blue haired friend once again. Just in a unique Flashy way

• AKA by his head being punched off by Crocodile and accidently flung into your waiting chest.

• "(Y/N)?-" He mumbled against your bust, your cheeks flaring deep crimson as he floated his head up to lock eyes with your flushed face.

• He got his ass beaten for that by Crocodile of course-

• But for you it was like your heart was Kickstart again!

• At the Cross Guild, you'd always attend. Crocodile assuming it was because you were warming up to him, But in truth it was to see Buggy-

• The two of you talking to each other constantly. He was so fascinating to you-

• Like you two were children again falling in love- Sitting out under the stars talking for hours. You tucking strands of his blue hair back into his hat, him fixing any Imperfections on yohr dresses as you sat next to him. Which often lead to Buggy giggling into his gloved hands while turning away from you

• You accepted him as he was, and adored him for it. You loved his mind, his passion, even his laziness and lewd humor.

• As time went on, you noticed the same for him. How he would ask you YOUR interest, what things YOU actually liked.

• Something no one had asked you since you were a child. Most just assuming your taste and interest.

• Hell when he came for meetings he would bring you something you'd actually want. Not just shiny things to make you look more valuable.

• "Hey (Y/N)!" Buggy cloaked towards you excited as he held out a old dirty crate to you. "I remeber you said you really liked weird plants, so I found these old books and scientist-y samples of the weirdest! Hope you like them!"

• You'd almost cried at the gift, so overfill with you you hugged Buggy. Before spending hours going through the crate and organizing it all to your liking.

• However with the sweets, came the sours...

• There had been countless times you'd walk into the Guild and see Buggys face. Beaten and bruised- How Crocodile and Mihawk kicked his ass as their own personal stress relief or just to show dominace.

• It broke your heart.. truly- Buggy humiliated like that infront of everyone time and time again... You would try to comfort him after the meetings but he would just run away- You swore you saw tears in his eyes a few times.

• You'd want to many times to have him run into your arms, so you could whisper how good of a man he is and deserving so love.

- It had been a particularly festive day in the Guild Hall, Crocodile dressing in a nicer suit as better food was served and fancy alcohol was served. You even being gifted a dress by the Desert King himself to wear today, you didn't refuse but felt rather uncomforble at how attentive he was acting with you.

And uncomfortable that he had purposely sat Buggy so far away from you..

As dinner was being served, Crocodile stood up from his seat next to you. Slapping his hand on the table to gather everyone's attention.

"I have an announcement-" Crocodile voice boomed through the room, you glancing up as the hook handed man gestured for you to stand. Which you silently did-

Oh No...

"(Y/N)- Daughter of Silvers Rayleigh. A women of greatness and deserving of only the finest of riches"

No...

"I ask for your hand- I swear I will give you all the wealth you desire"

Please No...

"From Riches, Silks and even the One Piece if your little mind wishes for it"

NO!

"Will you Marry me?"

Something inside you just snapped. Staring at Crocodile face that had the crooked cigar hanging from his lips.

Crocodile taking your silence positively as he handed you a velvet box with a massive diamond ring inside of it.

You stared at the ring box that had been placed in your glove hands and felt... nothing. Absolutely nothing...

Before A fire of rage filled your insides-

"We- We aren't even dating!-" You shouted, everyone looking to yoh in shock as you looked around wildly.

"What makes you think I want to stay by your side!? You were just ment to protect me not use me as a Scudo Girlfriend! I'm not yours nor will I ever be!-" Crocodile face starting to turn red, his eyes glancing around him before setting on you with a harsh glare.

"So I-I can't accept this" You finally hissed out, bright red in the face from both embarrassment and anger. Everyone in the Guild Hall staring at you in total shock.

"Besides My Heart... Belongs to someone else-" Crocodile eyes widen as he clenched his hands in rage. You handing the ring box back to him delicately, before turning to look at Buggy who had been picking his nose diassociating heavily at the dramatics. Only coming back to reality when he saw everyone was staring at him-

Buggy stares confused, 'Why are you all looking at me?' He looked behind himself first, Then around to see who you could be talking about, that had your heart. Realizing quickly he was alone and you actually ment HIM!

"Wait Me!?"

• After such a stunning yet shocking reveal, Crocodile cut you lose. Feeling you embarrassed him infront of everyone- Which had been the greatest day of your life!

• As you fly into Buggy's (Who got beaten senseless once again) arms. Who accepts you happily into his life-

• Frolicking away to his Circus Themed Ship in what can only be described as total Joy!

• "HAHAHAHAHA I WIN!!" He yells out, holding you in his arms as he flips off Crocodile once more and holds you in his arms.

• You adore his Flashy Crusty ways, the way he weirdly cackled and utter lack of emotional control.

• Oh How you love your Crusty Clown!

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #captain buggy #x female reader #the grinch #one piece buggy #op buggy #buggy #buggy x wife reader

[weebsinstash]

I know you mentioned that you aren't a big fan of pregnancy AU stuff in Hazbin, but hear me out...

Imagine Yandere Valentino getting his Darling pregnant to have a living bargaining chip to make sure she doesn't even try to leave him

New idea. What if the only people who can procreate in Hell are red string soulmates, or, it's like akin to ABO in the sense that not everyone or every combo of people could create a baby.

I was thinking about a yandere Valentino who has Reader as his red string soulmate whatever and you run away after seeing how truly abusive he is to other people, worrying for your own safety, and you're missing for like a straight year before Valentino finds out where you are, and... he's all but KICKING DOWN the door of your apartment, and he's looking at you like a hungry predator ready to pounce on you, cornering you, and

a baby starts crying from the other room and you're SPRINTING to the noise and Valentino finds you defensively holding a little bundle to your chest, growling snarling baring fangs holding a knife whatever at him, and Valentino thinks you adopted some other man's kid, some little imp bastard or something, and he's furious, he's raising his voice, he's getting closer, he's-

making perfect eye contact with a little tiny baby replica of himself as it turns to look at him with its big red eyes and chubby cheeks and fat arms and. It takes Val a few seconds to process it. The baby looks right at him and is whimpering and gurgling, upset, but doesn't cry. The baby boy sneezes and his antenna flip back and forth. He's got lil hearts in his fur and his teeny antenna are already so fluffy.

'Oh but aren't baby moths technically caterpillars--' shut the fuck up, you're demons and also that would be ugly as fuck. You want to give birth to a 20 armed baby or something. No. We save the truly inhuman babies for the human x monster/alien/whatever prompts. Your baby comes out a mini mothperson and it's fluffy and chubby and fucking adorable and also shut up

Val is just, SMITTEN, the narcissism is turned up to 100, he's rapid cycling emotions, "*GASPING* OUR BABY IS SO FUCKING CUTE, WHAT THE FUCK, I WANT TO HOLD HIM" "So I knocked you up good huh 😏" "*already on the phone in a group call with the other Vees and taking 200 pictures* you should see this thing, he looks just like me, can you even believe that, I can already tell he's gonna be so handsome and successful cuz he's MY son" "aw, amorcito did you think you needed to run away to protect our baby because I have so many enemies? You're such a good mama ❤️❤️❤️"

You spend like MONTHS lovingly protecting and sheltering your child until he's a healthy giggling little chubroll and Val has him for like two days and suddenly your baby has his ears pierced with diamonds in them and Valentino is walking around in his high heels and slutty bodysuits with your son in a papoose cuddled into his chest fur. You're holding your sleeping son while Val is beside you and someone sneezes across the room and the baby stirs and here's Valentino, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, MY SON IS SLEEPING", like, NOT ANYMORE YOU DUMB JACKASS???

'Oh gee why is Valentino suddenly funding and producing more erotic films involving moms and breeding and pregnant people and lactation-' you fucking know why and honestly I think it'd be SO FUNNY if he's like, "oh yeah, don't worry, I want you on birth control too mami. I missed fucking you and I kinda wanna do a lot of that without worrying about another little niño or two. At least not for a while :)"

Valentino on the red carpet being his cunty fashionable self while his baby is in a sling and they're both wearing matching outfits. Your baby boy has a tiny iced-up watch that's worth more than the entire building you were living in before his father found you. Your "husband" is posing half-naked with your baby on the cover of Demon Playboy which he owns, "HELL'S HOTTEST NEW DILF" like I COULD NOT WITH THIS MAN

And obviously he's got new kinks now that you're a mom and he absolutely fucks the hell out of you to the point you would get pregnant again without the birth control 😳 valentino on some real "is this the milk you've been feeding my baby with, let me try some" type stuff where he's milking you dry during his bang sesh and your son has to have formula that night because your tank is EMPTY 💀 YOU'RE A RAISIN LIKE THAT SCENE FROM SCOOBY DOO ZOMBIE ISLAND--

God. I've read horror stories about women getting pregnant again even WHILE being on multiple types of birth control so, then you get knocked up again Because Of Course You Would, You're Taking More Creampies Than A Professional Rodeo Clown, and what does Valentino say? "Fuck it, I wanna keep it! I can't just MURK my baby after it beat the odds, that's so ME!" And now you're having twin girls 💀💀💀 who knows, maybe having some daughters would teach Valentino to actually respect women--

I feel like you would wake up one morning and be genuinely hysterical because your baby is missing and you can't get in contact with Valentino and you're freaking out at the absolute highest level and it turned out to be some dumb shit like Val just took your son along with him for THE ENTIRE DAY and didn't think of mentioning it to you because "but you were needing a break and we were bonding, mami. We were having our guy time. I was leaving for work and he looked at me and he SMILED AT ME. What the fuck was i supposed to do, I couldn't just LEAVE HIM, he wanted his papi"

Of course, all these ideas hinge on the concept of Valentino actually caring for his baby. He could still genuinely use it as a tool against you. You're out running errands and suddenly you're getting a call. It's Valentino. He wants you to come home; you left the baby with Kitty so you could go out for a little while for some 'you time' since you've been trapped at home hiding ever since you ran from him before learning you were pregnant. It's not even about you leaving the baby with a nanny; it's about you not being home when Valentino came to visit you and him being uncomfortable not knowing exactly where you are and exactly what you're doing

Well, you got a little smart with him. You've just spent the last about 11 months living through hell with your pregnancy and hiding; you deserve to get some fresh air and walk out on the town and--- in the middle of you lecturing him you can just hear your baby making baby noises through the phone and Valentino just adopts this... tone in his voice, "amorcito, I came to spend time with you and our little frijolito and you're not heeee~ere. You know I can have trouble concentrating when I've had a few drinks and, earlier i dropped my phone on accident and i thought 'oh, it's good i wasn't holding something important"

You're home within 20 minutes and Valentino is cuddling into you while he puts some garbage on TV and pretends not to notice how you're trembling as you hold your son and send the occasional wary glance his father's way...

#valentino x reader #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #hh #sinprompts

[critter-coded]

Reclaiming "Female" Through Therianthropy

This is my submission for the "My Gender is Not Human" zine. Here, I discuss how I realized I was not transgender because of my therianthropy and I hope that maybe someone else may relate and understand themselves in a new way. ♡

If you want to wait to read this until the Zine is released, then do not continue past the "keep reading" portion. Otherwise, enjoy!

PS: If this interests you, I'd strongly advise playing Shelter 2 (where I got the photo below from) as it relates a lot to my own experience.

CW: Body issues, misogyny

Can you imagine the scent of the velvet fuzz of a newborn animal? The experience of a dark den now filled with new life, life that hasn't even opened its eyes yet to the winter world just outside? Can you imagine the tiredness yet sheer love and comfort of having your children welcomed into the world, witnessed only by you and the Earth’s soil?

It's something I often dream of, and it's that very experience that made me realize that I am not transgender. It's funny because in this community, it feels as though the majority of individuals here are transgender and that experience ties closely into their nonhumanity. For me, the opposite occurred. I had a top surgery letter in my hand after years of feeling “not quite right” in my body or in how people perceived me. I had every reason to feel this way and to want this, even if it felt imperfect. Looking back, I remember how I got to this point.

“Be skinnier any way you can, it’ll make you prettier” they’d say as they, themselves, were ironically obese and I loved them no less for it.

“Grow your hair long and change your clothes, you’ll look more like a lady.” A projection rooted in the ideals of someone who reads far too much Jane Austen.

“Women should be subservient and provide endlessly, or they’re selfish.”

Dread set in every time I filled someone’s coffee or plate of food due to expectation or demand and not out of love and kindness. Everytime the topic of how I looked in a dress or how my hair wasn’t as long as someone else wanted. The disappointment of my family when they learned I had dated other women in the past and their relief when I dated one man. The eyerolls and my teacher’s discouragement when I expressed an interest in physics or chemistry. Even my finance degree was achieved through apparent luck despite graduating top of my class. Every “right” I accomplished was met with a “wrong” in some new category. The very things that made men impressive made me disobedient. I starved myself to look a little nicer to strangers, cried in bed after being talked down to at work, slept away all of my sorrows in a curled up ball. Humanity didn’t take kindly to me.

It frustrated me, and combined with my general lack of identity at the time along with diagnosed CPTSD, it was easy to relate to the plight that transgender individuals experienced. Surely that had to be me, but the label and being perceived as something besides female never clicked entirely. I figured that I may just have mild gender dysphoria instead, but for the first time, I really deep dived into what it meant to identify as a gender as everyone was needing urgent, permanent decisions to be made on my end. Around this time, I took on my first mammal label which was a feline. Ironically, cats are often the first animals to be associated with femininity and to be mistreated because of it.

I wanted motherhood, but I wanted my own kittens to rear more than I felt like I wanted to raise a human infant after spending time in a daycare and at a cat shelter. I didn’t want my breasts, but not because I wasn’t a girl, that’s just how other animals are. Perfume was a method to mark the rooms I had been in, not for elegance. I still felt so female, yet I didn’t see another way out besides transitioning until it occurred to me: what if I didn’t have to be a “woman”, and instead, I could simply be female the way animals are female? 

There were so many women like me such as in Brave, Princess Mononoke, Poor Things, or Wolf Children. The women who strayed from polite society to walk their own paths and stuck to their own desires. Even my own cat was female and yet held her chin so high and demanded when she would or would not be held. This realization was the first time I found myself feeling feral freedom and uninhibited beauty in the way I was. I was going to be the woman that rolls in the dirt, who is unapologetically beautiful in her own way, who chases after whatever her wild heart desires. I am not transgender, but I am not entirely a woman. I am an animal, and I am female in all of its unbridled ways.

Shedding my domestic cat label, I have taken up the title of bobcat. With it, I swear on my name that I will bite the hand of any who wish to tame or domesticate me ever again. I have been released out of the crate and back into the wilderness where I belong, and I shall never look back down the mountain. I feel the moss beneath my paws, the cold breeze kissing my nose, the smell of rain soaked woods and wildflowers. Ravens cry as I run on four legs towards the peak, released at last from the grips of mankind. I feel the warmth of a life suddenly worth living, growing along with the hair I now reclaim as my own fur without shame or expectation. I am home at the summit of my own world.

My spirit runs wild, and she is female.

#therian #otherkin #therianthropy #therianthrope #adult therian #feline therian

[raainberry]

Top Shelf

« Silly Series - 13 »

Momo x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - you’re taller than her, of course she’ll use it to her advantage

wordcount - like 650?

T/W - Food, Suggestive at the end

A/N - felt inspired and silly all of a sudden, enjoy!

“Can you get that?” Momo asked, pointing at a pack of cookies she’d been wanting to try.

You looked down at your joined hands before catching her eyes. “Seriously?”

“What?” She tried to be nonchalant, holding your gaze while struggling to hold back a smile. If she hadn’t dragged you over to this specific aisle right away, maybe she could have gotten away with it.

“This is why you begged me to come along?” You asked, and although you already knew the answer, you didn’t mind the way she gave it to you.

A nose scrunch, her grin and the sound of her laugh soon slipped into your ears. “No, I mean… It’s not the only reason.”

You could only shake your head before giving in to her request. The cookies did look very good, and the way she got excited when you reached for them made you wonder how long she’d been eyeing them for. “Why don’t you just ask the workers, Momo?”

“But that’s so embarrassing…” She mumbled as you resumed your walk around the convenience store. It never failed to amaze you how intorverted she could be.

“Who cares?” You laughed, trying to understand and reassure her. “It’s their job, I’m sure they’ve had weirder requests.”

She only chuckled, stopping in front of a few colorful snacks. “Exactly, they have enough on their plate as is. I’d rather use you, at least this way I don’t feel bad.”

“Oh, so you enjoy watching me work for you?” You scoffed, watching as she studied a strawberry sandwich. She was that serious about food, sometimes you wondered how was there even any room left in her heart for you.

“Do you want one?” She asked, deciding to ignore your question to tease you a little.

“No I don’t, thank you.” You smiled. “Just answer the question.”

Her eye-roll was as playful as her next words. “I do. Don’t act like you don’t like it too.”

“Depends what I get in return.” You shrugged, deciding not to let her override your brain so easily for once. Though that only turned out to be a useless decision because she also decided that was the only possible outcome.

Her lips found your cheek in seconds, replacing her words with proof of them. Surely that would make her win this petty yet loving battle.

“That’s it?” You scoffed, taking her aback.

“Wh—You only got snacks off a shelf.” She argued, amused.

“And I can put them back.”

“Fine.” She sighed, dropping the strawberry sandwich into the basket you held. Once her hands were free, she cupped your cheeks, squeezing them and bringing you down enough for her to peck your lips. “Thank you and I love you. Is that good enough?”

She was all smiles, the small kiss having brought its usual heart flutters, but it was short lived. That heart of hers sank down to her stomach when she saw your eyebrows furrow together. Still not happy and asking for more?

“Y/n, it’s not even a fair trade!” She whined, almost startling you. You knew she could see through you, but being able to read your thoughts was new.

“What, a few cookies is too much to ask for?”

“Oh.”

Her hands let go of your cheeks, a faint blush painting hers quicker than she was able to hide. It took you a second, but apparently you could read her thoughts too.

You giggled as she looked away, feigning interest in a pack of peanuts she didn’t even like. The sight was as funny as it was adorable, you couldn’t help your smile nor the way your arm wrapped around her shoulders; offering her shelter in your chest from embarrassment.

“I love you,” You whispered, placing a soft kiss on the fabric of the hood hiding the top of her head. “but you should get your mind out of the gutter.”

The soft hit she landed on your chest told you she didn’t appreciate the joke, but the bashful smile you caught when she pulled away did the exact opposite.

“You’re so not getting any…” She whined, and you could only laugh despite her walking away from you.

“Any of what? The cookies or—” Momo’s groan cut you off before she whined some more while your laughter resonated within the small store.

Maybe she’ll ask the workers next time.

#momo x reader #twice x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #momo imagines #momo fluff

[shadowofahope]

Eucalyptus || 2.5

Warnings: Swearing, abandonment, hybrids are only considered as pets, mentions of pre-heat and scent triggers, use of medication, overdosing(unintentional), self-harm (unintentional)

Premise: A sugar glider hybrid with a broken past. Seven men convinced they can give her the life she’s always wanted. Sometimes destiny has a funny way of finding you, and sometimes it smells like Eucalyptus.

WC: 1.3K

Masterlist || 001 || 002 || 2.5

Words tumble out of your mouth when you hear the click.

“I need….Can I have more..?” You try to stop your hands from shaking. They haven’t stopped in weeks. 

“Already?” The vet asks from the other end of the phone. He was finishing his paperwork for the day. He had Chinese takeout with his name on it that he was eager to get to when you called. Which was unusual in itself because you never called without one of your owners present or even all of them. “I gave you a 4-month trial, it's only been just over a month. Are they not working?”

You force down the thick lump of saliva in your throat, trying to clear your voice enough to sound..well like you were fine.  “They were…but then- I need something stronger.” 

You were not fine. You hadn’t been since the week you had been given the pills. But you held onto some hope that your body just had to adjust to them, waiting for them to take the discomfort away, the unending need you felt.

“Snow I can’t give you anything stronger, as you are a smaller hybrid they will be fatal if we’re not careful.” He sits up straighter in his chair. Forgoing his paperwork to focus on your words.  “Did you try taking an extra one? That should help without being too much for your body.” 

“I did.” The room starts to spin a little, you stumble to sit on the ground.”...So I took more.”

“How many more?” Now he’s slightly worried.

“Today or ?” You hold your head in your hand, but you're still finding it hard to stay upright. “I started taking 2 but then it stopped working so I took another and then…eventually another…”

“That’s 4. How long have you been taking 4?” 

“A month or so?” 

“How many today?” He was trying to keep calm, but inside he was frantic. 4 is double your max dose. He just hoped today you hadn’t followed the same pattern. 

“Today…today….six…” The urge to vomit was slowly forcing its way higher and higher from your stomach. Every inch you could feel it burning a path through you. You decide it would be best to lay down on the hardwood. The coolness against your clothed back gave a welcome break from the rising heat. “It kept hurting. It wouldn’t stop hurting…”

“I need… I need… I need to morph back. I don’t feel as sick. I don’t want to be sick.” You could hear your own words slowing. Your mouth couldn’t keep up with your mind anymore. Or was it your mind not being able to keep up with your mouth? You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. 

The tantalizing taste of eucalyptus that hung in the air. It was always the only thing your mind could focus on. It felt so thickly enticing. 

“Snow! Do not change into your hybrid-” He’s cut off by a sharp chirp through the phone. “Shit.” 

“Deandra!” He yells out his office door. “I need your hybrid in here now!”

One of the shelters nurses and her raccoon hybrid come running into the room, they had stayed later tonight to help finish getting the new hybrid drop offs comfortable. He shoves the phone at the male hybrid.

“I need you to tell me exactly what she’s saying. Keep her talking.” He instructs sternly. Normally he wouldn’t talk to someones hybrid like this but he doesn’t have the ability to watch his tone or filter his words. 

He reaches over his desk knocking the papers that he was working on onto the floor. He quickly dials your owners number that he has kept on speed dial since his first day visiting you. 

He hears the click of a connect. 

“Seokjin! Thank god. Tell me, are you the one?” He feels out of breathe, like he’s panting. Even though he’s not. 

“Doctor? The one what?” Seokjin’s curious words respond to him. 

“The one who started Snow’s heat.” He clarifies. 

There’s a pause. It takes too long for the other to answer his question. 

“QUICKLY.” He shouts at the younger.

“No. No. its not me. What is happening?!” Seokjin’s concern erupts through his ears.

“You need to get home now, I’ll leave as soon as I can. The pills had a severe negative affect. She’s taken too many.” He explains desperately. He can’t hide the panic in his feet, he’s pacing in the space infront of his desk.

“What?” Seokjin tells himself out loud. “I have to tell the others.”

“No! Only you. Whoever it is will only make this worse. She needs you right now.” 

“I’m leaving.” The younger notifies him as well as anyone else in the room with him.

“I’ll meet you there.” They both hang up, not bothering with any form of goodbyes.

“-Doctor…..” The racoon hybrid calls to him.

“What is she saying??” He’s trying to keep himself from yelling. But the full blown panic that is beginning to set within him is about to break out.

“She’s not… she’s not talking. She’s only making noises, nothing is making sense. I don’t think-” 

He points to the nurse, “Call an emergency vehicle to head there. Tell them it’s critical.”

Rounding his desk, he snatched the phone away from the hybrid shuffling him to the other side and points at him, “Stay.”

“Snow! Hear me. Talk to me. Jin is on his way. You need to change back.” He hears a few other cheeps before loud rustling.

“Liiiiiiving with them…… has maaaade me…. the hppiest…. Ive ever been in my eeentiiiiire liiiiife.” Your voice comes through muffled and slurring. “I would gooo through….. aaaaaall….. the abuse…. I sufferrrrred…. over again….. to have the chance…. to beeee their pet. They loved meeeee doctor…”

“Love, snow. They love you.” 

“I used to….. maaaake themmmmm sooooo haaaaappy….. Theeeey would alwayssss… ssssmiiiile when they ssssaaaaw mmmme…they donnnnnnnn sssmile assssss…… much anymore….. I wisssh they did….. How doo I…. make them sssssmile… again…?”

“They want you to be healthy and happy. That’s all they want.” He tries to quiet his own breath to be able to hear your slow deep attempts.

He hears a bang and rustling from the other end. He hits speaker on his office phone. The other hybrid still in his office, just in case she returns back to hybrid form. God he hopes she doesn’t.

“Snow what happened?”  He can hear Sekjin’s voice now.

“Thesssse…. are…. Pretty’ssss…. Eyesssss.” Her slurring worsens. It’s almost incomprehensible. 

“Snow please. Doctor what do I do?” Jins voice abruptly yells.

“I have an emergency vehicle headed to you now. Keep her awake and don’t let her change into her hybrid form. The medication will only circulate through her system faster.”

“Pretty…. issssn’t sssssmiling.-How do IIIII -maaaaake Pretty …ssssssmiiiiiile again.” He can hear Seokjin sniffling through her attempts at speech. “i kn..ooow. Everyyyyoooone ssssssmiiilessss ….when immmmm -”

“little…” they word escapes out in an exhale. 

Airy faint chirps are heard, he drastitically turns to the other hybrid. 

“Doctor! She’s changed again!” Jin all but shrieks. 

“What is she saying?” He demands of the terrified male hybrid.

“...” He walks closer to listen, his face going pale. “She’s saying… ‘I’ll stay little forever. I’m no trouble when I’m little.’” Listens again “‘Everyone smiles when I’m little….I’ll stay little’…..She’s just repeating ‘I’ll stay little’ over and over again.”

“Snow!” Seokjin whimpers over the phone, his voice breaking. Just like his heart.. “No…. please.” 

“I’M ON MY WAY!” He grabs his things from his drawer and bolts for the door. 

Running to his car he thinks about all the risks, the side affects he had gone over with you, all the late night research he had done. But this isn’t one of the risks that even crossed his mind. He made a vow all those years ago when you first came to the shelter. He promised to find you a loving family, that you would finally be happy. 

He didn’t realize just how dangerous this could be. How there was one thing above all others that could make it all come crashing down…desperation. 

Masterlist || 001 || 002 || 2.5

taglist:@luminaaz, @mingkilovur, @thefirewasfriendly, @malewife-supremacy, @cestlabellemort @purpleskyyyy @aianloveseven @zera10 @roguesthetic, @littlrmills14-blog, @hesmyphenominiall @ottergirl @scrumptioustrash

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts angst #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #bts fan fiction #bts hybrid fanfic #bts hybrid au #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts hoseok #reader x mate revealed

[untaemedqueen]

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 17.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

Warnings For This Chapter: Breast Play, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Love Making, Pregnant Sex, Jeongguk Being Fuckin' Filthy, Praise, Begging, Creampie // Taehyung Acting Up As Per Usual

Jeongguk was only without you for a month but during that time he forgot what it was like to lay in bed with you.

He forgot how you cuddled close to him in the chilly mornings, burying your face into his chest with childlike stubbornness. He forgot how you almost always softly whinged when he kissed the top of your head to wake you up. And he almost forgot how beautiful and incredible it feels to have your limbs tangle with his in the wee hours of daybreak.

Now that he's moved into your mansion, now that he has all of his belongings here, he finds himself appreciating the mornings even more.

You're not as sick as you were when you first found out you were pregnant but you're still exhausted all the same. Nothing wakes you up anymore, your hormones make you lay in bed like a lump on a log until his child deems it acceptable to rouse awake.

Curling his hand around your flat stomach, his lips drift softly over your shoulder.

To know he's bringing a life into this world with the woman he adores more than anything makes him constantly euphoric day in and day out.

It's funny to think that in just two weeks he'll be accompanying you to the wedding he was hired to go to so long ago. It's almost as if everything is coming full circle.

Drifting his lips to your hair, his eyes squeeze shut. There's such peace here at this moment. There's a serenity that cannot be matched and he's simply basking in its wonder.

This mansion you explicitly used to shelter yourself from the outside world is a newly defined place that you'll be raising a little life. All of the meaningless emptiness of the grand estate will have child-like giggles and babbling.

Tracing his thumb over your swollen womb, your once again boyfriend thinks of all the possibilities within this home.

Your whinge alerts him that you're waking up and it brings a soft smile to his pierced lips.

When Hawking hears that noise, he jumps onto the bed with curious excitement and your boyfriend lifts his head with wide eyes as a warning. His dog, now your dog as well, is so big and goofy that he has no spacial awareness. And if something happens to you or the baby, Guk will never forgive himself.

"Mornin'," you murmur to the Great Dane who doesn't heed his owner's cautious look.

Burrowing his face into your breasts, you cringe visibly and Guk is sitting up in an instant.

"Come on, dude," he hisses, pushing the dog's face softly away from you.

"It's okay, he doesn't understand," you reply sweetly, kissing the top of Hawking's head.

Everything about you lately has been swelling and aching, it's uncomfortable to be sure.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," your boyfriend whispers.

"It's okay, really," you promise, turning towards him.

Jeongguk lays himself back down, giving you a smile that is devastatingly handsome. He's so in love, he's so excited to become a parent with you that it's readily apparent on his features.

"How're my babies?" he coos, combing some hair back behind your ear.

"Tired," you breathe, which makes him nod in turn, "hungry, achy, crampy, emotional. I could go on."

He chuckles then, the sound making your bones almost jello-like.

You haven't been up to wearing your nightgowns to bed lately, the fabric that goes over your breasts is too restricting. So when your boyfriend looks you over in full, he can't help the way that his tongue slowly licks over his bottom lip.

The darkened veins around your swollen tits makes him almost frenzied with wanting but he's been respectful since you took him back.

Cupping your chest with his large, warm hands, he kneads the swollen skin very softly with his fingers.

Your whine lets him know how much you adore it and suddenly he's disregarding his huge dog beside you to crawl over you.

He rests his backside on the balls of his feet working to soothe your aches and pains immediately. Your skin is hot under his hands, almost as if you have a fever just on your chest.

You groan softly, letting your head loll back at the simple relief.

"You're so beautiful, I love you so much," Guk avows.

"We love you too," you whisper through clenched teeth.

To say you've gotten used to being pregnant is an understatement. It took you a few days, surely, you were frightened and scared beyond all belief at first but your boyfriend has ingrained in you just how much he adores this and you and his baby. So, it didn't take you so long to come to terms that you're growing a life inside you.

Bending down, Guk presses soft kisses to your areola. When you gasp loudly, making Hawking jump with fright beside you, your boyfriend finds his cock stirring.

"Feels good, baby?" he hisses, wrapping his lips around your puffy, dark nipple.

He suckles gently, suddenly forgetting the need to calm your aches and pains. His hand toys with the stiffening peak, rolling it ever so slowly between his thumb and index finger.

"Daddy, God!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

"Mhm," he groans against your skin soothingly, flicking the tip of his tongue to your bud.

His free hand trails lazily over your side, stopping shortly to graze along your swollen womb before continuing on it's long path but before he can even get there you're yelping out like you're about to orgasm.

His eyebrows furrow and he suckles harder against you, pinching and rolling just that much more fervently and when his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, you scream his name with heady pleasure.

Your arousal squirts out of you and coats his hand, body trembling with satisfaction and he lifts his head with a curiously triumphant smile.

"Cumming just by your tits? That's new," he breathes, stroking at his cock.

Your juices make his long, hard cock slick and he positions himself at your entrance with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you handle this right now, baby?" he inquires softly, drifting his hand over your cheek.

With a whinge, your hands coast up his heavily inked arms. You stare up at him with heavily sated eyes that seem to twinkle with the need for more.

"Give it to me," you beg softly.

That's all he needs to hear.

Entering you slowly, his mouth drops open at the sheer warmth and wetness. Your cunt is like a fucking siphon around him and he lets out a strangled groan at the feeling.

His elbows purchase themselves over your shoulders and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you adjust to the intrusion of his thick cock.

"Your pussy feels so different," Guk whines against your lips, "feels so fucking good."

You hook your hand around the back of his head, needing him so close to you.

"I love you," you whisper, looking up at him with soft, needy eyes that makes his cock throb within you.

"I love you too," he promises, pulling out almost all the way before slowly thrusting back inside.

This isn't a rough fuck, this isn't a quick thing that horny lovers do. He sets a slow, deep pace that makes your loins quiver. He's making love to you. He's showering you with every ounce of passion that he can to show you how grateful he is that you're with child.

"Oh fuck!" you squeak out, feeling his lips trail from your lips to your jaw and downward.

He suckles at your nipples once again, adoring how your legs butterfly open for more. Your arousal is messy and abundant, earning the most pornographic noises as he fucks you diligently.

"You're so fucking incredible," Guk hisses, licking at your nipple until your back is bowing off the bed.

He takes this opportunity to curl his arm around you, pulling you closer to him as his strokes begin to quicken.

"O-Oh! Daddy!" you blubber out, combing your fingers through his hair.

"That's it, sweetheart. Good girl," he praises, suckling at your sensitive flesh harder.

Your nails scratch at his skin, leaning pretty red lines he'll surely be tracing with his fingers later in the day.

"I can't wait till your bigger, till I can set you on your knees and fuck you from behind like an animal. I'm gonna hold your belly so tightly while you throw it back to me like a little slut. Your swollen pretty tits are gonna leak milk everywhere, begging to mother my baby. Fuck," he hisses, fucking into you harder.

He doesn't know where those hopes and dreams came from but he's pretty sure they've been laying thick on his mind since the minute he got you into bed the first time.

His irises burn with an intensity that makes your breath catch. He believes what he's saying, he wants you to do every vile and nasty thing with your pregnant body that he can and it only brings you closer to the edge.

There's a bubble growing and growing within your loins, it's expanding at a rapid pace and when he sits up and flips you over like you weigh nothing, the explicit show of strength makes you almost want to fall off the precipice then.

His chest lays over your back, hand cupping your small, swollen womb. His lips tug at your earlobe and you can only cry out in a semblance of babbles as he begins to fuck you stupid.

"I'm gonna worship you and this pregnant belly until my last fucking day. I want you to walk around this mansion stark naked with your big stomach in your hands and my cum running down your fucking thighs," he hisses, nibbling at your skin softly.

There's a demon within him now, some sort of incredibly aroused being that you can't help but want to bend your will to.

"Y-Yes, daddy! Please!"

"Yeah?" your boyfriend coos sweetly, "you want that? You want me to fuck your little pregnant cunt everyday? You want to drip with me everywhere you go? You want to hold your belly for me while you suck my cock or take it deep inside you?"

You nod incessantly, sobbing as his hand hooks around to the apex of your thighs. He rubs short, quick circles to your swollen clit, groaning at how tight you're getting around him.

You like this too apparently, you love the imagery, much like him.

"Fuck, throw it back to me, baby," he hisses, lifting himself off of your back.

His free hand slowly coasts over your spine while the other continues it's diligent work between your legs.

With every stroke he gives, you meet it and he moans loudly at the feeling. His head lolls back at the euphoria of it all and when he hooks his hand around your waist to pull you back even faster, you can't help the bubble within you as it's about to explode.

"Fuck, I feel it. That's my girl! Let go," Jeongguk praises, spreading your legs wider with his knees.

With a loud whimper, your body lets go. Your orgasm feels like shards of ice upon your body and you can barely register the slew of curses your boyfriend strings together behind you.

"Oh holy fucking shit," he whines, fucking you harder and faster until his thrusts become stunted and shorter.

With a deeply bassed groan, he spills his seed inside of you.

"My God," he sighs softly, pulling out slowly and laying down beside you.

He opens his arms and smiles as you immediately coddle to him, laying your face down on his chest.

"I love you," he whispers, running his hand over your womb.

"I love you too," you murmur, deeply sated.

As you begin to draw random shapes onto his chiseled chest, he stares down at you with adoration slowly creeping into his bones.

You, the mother of his baby, how deeply he fucking loves you.

"One, two, three," Guk counts, groaning loudly as he and his two best friends begin to set up gym equipment in the basement he didn't even know you owned.

You're giving him free reign within this mansion now. You're really starting to come to terms with sharing your life with him.

"Still don't like it," Tae murmurs, looking around the pristine basement.

"Oh my God, give it a rest!" Jimin hisses, setting down the rowing equipment.

Jeongguk has gotten used to ignoring the pretty boy lately. Nothing ever seems good enough for him anymore.

"She fucking lied to him! She withheld that she was fucking pregnant!"

Guk turns away from the both of them, grabbing his water.

"She was confused! She was scared! Christ, imagine you were a girl and you got pregnant so soon! How would you feel?!" Chim gripes back, folding his arms.

"I am not her!" Taehyung hisses, his voice slowly getting louder and louder with each word, "if she was fucking smart, she would have told him from the fuckin beginni-"

Jeongguk sighs loudly, spinning around and pressing his forearm against his best friend's chest until he backs him up into the wall. His eyes are wide with anger and ferocity.

"You are raising your voice in the mother of my baby's house. You're talking shit when she's right fucking upstairs. She was scared and nervous! Don't you think for a fucking second that I won't kick your ass where you stand just because we're friends! I'm sick of your shitty attitude, dude. I'm spending the rest of my life with this woman! Have some goddamn respect. If you wanna bitch and complain you can take it outside this fucking house and away from me! I'm sick of it."

Jimin puts his hand delicately on your boyfriend's arm, watching it shake with anger and fury.

"I said it's enough," Guk hisses finitely, letting Taehyung go.

The pretty boy fixes his shirt immediately after being let go, rolling his eyes at the sudden flair of anger.

"Y'know," the father of your child grunts, grabbing a beer from the new mini fridge beneath the bar you've only just installed yesterday, "Tae, you're one of the biggest fucking hypocrites I know. If you had one ounce of understanding in your body, you'd see just how fucked up you've been. You always complain about Y/N, about others and how if you were that person how differently you'd do things. Well guess what? You're not them. So shut the fuck up. I'm goddamn tired of you acting like you're the king of the universe and you never do any wrong. It's annoying."

Jimin clears his throat softly, nudging the pretty boy who simply huffs out and folds his arms.

"So you don't like it when I speak my mind? We're friends. Isn't that what friends do? Listen?" Taehyung counters, sitting down on the rowing equipment.

Guk snorts into the beer can as he takes a sip. He shakes his head softly, knowing that nothing he says will get through to his older friend no matter how much he tries. "Just keep your comments about my girl to yourself from now on. Or you'll regret it."

"Guk-" Jimin begins only to be cut off by the pretty boy.

"Oh yeah? And how will I regret it?"

"You'll lose the chance to ever see my baby grow up. I'm going to be a father, I have to make decisions that are right for me and my family."

Tae simply freezes, tilting his head to the youngest's threat. "That's vile."

"You're being vile towards my-"

"Gukkie?"

Your boyfriend's head snaps up and he's standing in an instant to greet you as you descend down the basement stairs.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmurs, walking over to you and placing both of his hands on your side.

"Are you okay?" you inquire, running your hands softly over his inked bare chest.

"Yeah! We're fine down here. What's wrong?" he replies, kissing the top of your head.

"I heard yelling," you whisper, looking up at him with doe-like, sweet eyes.

Just the sight kills him and he doesn't know how Taehyung could ever say anything bad about you.

"Oh, no, baby don't worry. We're alright down here. The boys are gonna leave soon and then I'm gonna make dinner for us," he coos softly, coursing a sweet hand over your cheek.

"Don't rush on my account. I'm just gonna go relax in the garden for a bit."

"How do you feel? Should you be laying down?" Guk asks sweetly, already forgetting the other two men in the room.

"I don't feel sick so I want to walk around for a while," you answer him, looking over at Jimin and Taehyung to give them a soft smile.

"Well that's good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," your boyfriend breathes, smiling down at you with his pearly whites.

You kiss his cheek softly before beginning your ascent back upstairs and he turns to his two friends.

"Thank you for helping me set up the gym, you're both more than welcome to come over and use it if you keep the mother of my baby's name out of your fucking mouths."

"I didn't say anything!" Jimin gasps, widening his eyes.

"Good, don't," Guk hisses, folding his arms.

Taehyung simply shakes his head, standing up off of the bench and rolling his eyes.

"What's your problem now?!" Chim groans, lolling his head back.

"Nothing," Tae replies, heading up the stairs and out of sight.

Your boyfriend simply holds up his hands, shaking his head. "He's really sensitive for someone that bitches about others constantly."

Jimin can only hum in agreement, chasing after the pretty boy with a sigh.

If there's one thing that Guk will do, he'll fight for you time and time again without any care for others.

<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->

#at your service #chapter 17 #chap 17 #jungkook #jungkook fic #jeongguk #jeongguk smut #pregnant smut #pregnant smut bts #jungkook smut

[asukiess]

why the kuro neko salters were right

between boops today, I decided to rewatch relevant episodes for fic writing purposes, and I started off with a strong, principled Adrien episode: Kuro Neko.

I feel that I defended this episode for a long, long time, when in reality my rewatch illuminated a lot of its flaws: Marinette's continued mistreatment of Chat Noir for no reason (and frankly, her bitchy tone when snapping at him in the beginning); the unhealthy ardency for which Chat Noir goes crawling back to her, reenforcing a harmful message to young viewers about love and partnerships; and finally, with everything else that happened in Season 4, why did the writers waste a WHOLE episode on ???? a character who only shows up once ???? Adrien never even MENTIONS being Cat Walker again in Season 5????

I unfortunately feel like writing a s6 fic meant evaluating things in a new light, but I'll keep it under a read more so those who don't want to see this meta, especially from me, can easily scroll past.

(I still like Loveywalker, but to me it feels more like... two OCs rather than having to be bound by a canon that doesn't even respect its own story?)

Let's start with my first point, the mistreatment of Chat Noir.

"What was that?"

Ladybug's left hand retreated back, her right still lightly resting in his grasp. Her face was set with a small smile, more than he'd seen these days. His lips were still pouting, as his respectful kissing of her hand had been interrupted by something...familiar.

"I thought you said you liked cats, Velours," she teased, tilting her head. "You've never done that to a cat?"

Patte de Velours's nose still tingled. He dropped her hand and coughed behind his own, averting his gaze. "Cats are...fickle pets. I try not to disturb them too much."

Ladybug considered this with a hum, hiding her hands behind her back. "That might be right, but it's still fun to do that every now and again." Her eyes too fell on the roof below them. "I haven't done that in a long time."

Velours thought her words over carefully, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe she'd had a pet cat that wasn't around anymore. He had never had a pet himself, never being allowed, but the thought of losing something without being able to properly express to them how much they'd meant to you felt like a punch to the gut.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said finally, with measure and compassion. A little uncouth, he scratched his nose.

She waved him off with an airy laugh. "No, don't be! It's not your fault." She rubbed one eye with her knuckle. "Allergies, actually---can't be around each other without issues!" She sighed. "Back to the shelter."

His heart fell. Somehow, that seemed even worse, having a pet and needing to give it up.

"Cats are really funny, though," she began again, and both of their heads raised, eyes catching. "Sometimes when you do that, they do it back."

Velours couldn't help but smile, and he wanted to see hers again, too. Reaching out with his index finger, he lightly tapped her nose, trying not to laugh at the way her eyes crossed when she followed the movement. "Like that?"

Her lips, pressed into a straight line, wobbled out into a grin. "You're close, but it's a little more like..." She repeated the action, tapping his harder than before, flicking her wrist for extra flair. "Like that?"

He nodded with all the feigned seriousness he could muster. Like he was truly taking notes on this. "I see. So maybe like---" he quickly tapped hers with precision, and she scrunched her nose in a giggle. "Did I do it right that time?"

She shook her head and his mouth dropped open in actual surprise. "Not even close." She booped his nose again, and before her hand was back in her lap he was already returning the gesture, and quickly the two of them devolved into a flurry of taps and laughter, the push and pull of their bodies swaying them as they weaved like boxers in a fight.

It only stopped when her hands accidentally smushed his nose so hard, his eyes immediately stung with tears.

"Oops!" Ladybug cringed behind the offending hand, head ducking between her shoulders. "I'm sorry!"

"It's all right," he said, rubbing his nose with a smile. "You obviously won with the finishing blow. I was no match for the Ladybug."

Her eyes softened as she studied him, and he smiled again to show her he was really okay.

"Still," she crooned, reaching out again. Her finger came to rest on his chin, tilting his face down, which he followed without question. "I'm sorry," she said, and leaned in close, placing a small kiss on his nose. "I hope you can forgive me."

"I already have," Velours managed through a renewed wave of tears and a hot blush.

[paradoxbeta]

WHO IS EOC? i am very curious now!!!

>:) okay SO

tumblr picture formatting is utter garbage and i dont want these to take up too much space so im cramming these drawings into one row (or not if this crapsite breaks on me, because it seems to be REALLY fighting me on this, so if it ends up not making a nice little picture row know that i tried my best). but this is effigy of composure!

he has a couple problems, but the big one is that his superstructure has a terrible parasite situation. the parasites are flat, thin, and able to make it into grooves and pipes the inspectors cant reach. flushing out doesnt do much to dislodge them and they breed faster than they can be killed, so theyve happily made their homes in this sheltered, food-rich haven (to the obvious distress and horror of the host iterator). originally the concept for these parasites were much closer to centipedes and had the placeholder name "synapcipedes," but ive since started leaning more towards an obvious tapeworm motif for them because its gross and i enjoy it morbidly. it also has some pretty cursed implications if you think about it for too long which i have decided are funny/really disgusting/so stupid that they have to stay. i still flipflop between considering them centipedes vs tapeworms though and i dont think thatll ever be rigidly defined. the ambiguity is nice to toy with

on the top 10 list of "things that are not fun" having turbo worms has to be somewhere up there, so eoc has it *rough,* and kind of sort of eventually barrels off into the deep end because of it. his futile attempts to clean his own structure are frustrating enough, and the constant feeling of bugs crawling all over the inside of his body (which only gets progressively worse with time) does no favors either. however, the real big reason why he mentally declines is just because there's a ton of centi-worm things eating like fire through his neurons and other what-have-yous that iterators need to think and function. i think if he only got hit with one of these 3 things then he might have been able to hang onto his sanity, but with the triple combo he doesn't really stand a chance of doing much except stalling his functional death. which is good on him because if i was an iterator and my overseers told me i had a structure infestation, my mental health would have just preemptively swan dived off a bridge before anything even happened

anyhow, exponential parasite population growth meant exponential increase in all this other fun stuff, which means the time from the beginning of the infection to the time eoc is considered officially gone is startlingly short (for iterators, at least). it still took quite the while because losing your marbles is a loonnnng process, but still, yikes. its unfortunate because eoc was a real jokester pre-everything, and a cool guy to talk to. he was one of those people who could come up witty comments for anything like hed been ripped from the script of a sitcom. oh yeah, also, should have mentioned this earlier, but he ends up accidentally amassing a scavenger cult mid-insanity which goes hilariously bad because he's barely aware it's happening. nothing really works out for this poor iterator.

tldr: eoc gets parasites, they erode his brain, he goes nuts about it, (accidentally amasses a cult,) dies

#thank you for asking! #oc: eoc #rainworld #my art #ask #tw parasites #his complexity rating is low because he loses personality during/after the whole insanity thing #and also because he really only existed as the crux for the scavenger cult until recently #he became more of a character and less of a background plot device #why is the readmore broken wtf

[000marie198]

Literally blame @myymi for this /pos. Your Unbreakable Bond story did something to my brain chemistry

What is Love

Love is confusing, hard to define

So many versions, so many kinds

You don't know what it is but you hold it deep inside,

Greater and truer than the one seen passing by

Love is keeping up even if you tire n your body aches,

Love is stopping even if you crave speed and high stakes

Love is the faith you place in each other

Growing stronger as time passes further

It's in the thumbs ups and smiles,

The fist bumps and high fives

Its's the little things you share,

And the way that you care

Love is campfire meals and sleeping under stars

Love is funny stories, banters and late night talks

Love is falling asleep with no need to stay alert

Love is safety and shelter and deep rooted trust

Love is who you run to when storm gets loud

When sky flashes white and lights go out

It's in reassurance, the murmurs that make fear subside

It's in your presence, the comfort you always provide

Love is in soothing lullabies played on a guitar

Love is in the cheers that make you feel like a star

Love is when you jump off and don't fear the fall

Knowing you'll be caught, no need for a call

Love is waking up in bed, all tucked in

Your last memory a desk and tools tinkerin'

Love is a pounce attack to force you to nap

Getting you to sleep n rest, a never failing trap

Love is the hope in your eyes,

The pride in your voice

Love is the warmth in your hugs

The sweetness in mint tea mugs

Love is your protection, an armour, a shield

Love is your support, a sword that you wield

Love is what your heart screams when your voice fails

Love is what your soul knows when your mind derails

Love is when you glance up and see home, father and mother

Love is when you look down and find a child, a friend, a brother

......

Don't tag this as a ship or I will feed you to the piranhas :)

#i have found my second muse. it's the brothers. ofcourse it is #they really be making me do poetry. i hate them so much /affectionate #dynamic duo #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #miles tails prower #sonic and tails #unbreakable bond #poetry #moot response bit #dadnic #<- i have to use this tag as well. Mom Dad and Picket Fence my beloved :]