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#you come live with me I'll take care of you
andersonlore · 2 days
Note
Abbys reaction to you telling her how hot she is while making out: "you're so hot I can't stand it it drives me crazy." - maybe the first time or one of the first times
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all my love is free | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, lesbians obsessed with each other, had to post during lesbian visibilty week like c'mon???, just a big bag of fluff packaged with light steam, abby being a nervous goofball, sfw with suggestive themes.
an. sorry i kind of disappeared with posts. new collab is taking over my brain. but wanted to at least post something. can't wait for y'all to get a taste. until then, i'll be finishing the requests in my inbox (hopefully). with all the love, ray.
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the end of your first date with abby marks a colossal milestone, especially for the two of you. the moment almost seemed monumental. taking one year of abby’s pining, six months of flirting and six months of tiptoeing while you were with someone else. respectfully, waiting until a month after the breakup, she asks you out.
unimaginable expectations abby had before going into tonight, but all she had to offer it seems was her nerves. god, she was acting like a dumb, mumbling, dork tonight. saying the first thought coming to mind, but it makes you laugh. when abby nearly eats it on the sidewalk, tripping over a crack of grout in the cement. your soft angelic voice taking her out for a moment, the only thing centering her from having a meltdown. 
“baby, are you alright? be careful, honey.” there it is, angelic. “wouldn’t want you to fall.” the first pet names hurled her way by you, making her heartbeat faster than she could keep up with. you cut her off at her knees, ensuring you are the only person she could ever want.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
it’s pretty obvious who was in control the entire night. if the two of you are friends, this night has a year of expectations, hopes, goals to meet and abby felt like she was failing. deeply.
as she walks you up to the front door, she knows the only thing she accomplished was letting you down. nothing went the way she thought it was going to. everything felt off. worst of all, your silence snuffs her out, completely.
you grab her hands, pulling her up the stairs with you. the collar feels too hot, tense, off. delicate fingers playing with the collar before you unclasp the buttons, keeping down before you move to her chest, placing your hand on abby’s inconsistent heartbeat.
“can i? s’tense, need you to loosen up for me. alright?” abby nods, accepting you can read her like the back of your hand. she just doesn’t want you to stop touching her. “get out of this head of yours. s’just me and you, no one else.” your nimble fingers pop the first three buttons, revealing her freckled chest, dipping into her sternum, giving you a delicious preview. she takes a deep breath, and you believe it’s the first one she’s allowed herself since she showed up with a bouquet of flowers in hand. 
“‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin tonight. i just— it’s you. y’know? i’ve never wanted someone like this. been friends for ages and this is just everything. you are everything. i’ll never live with myself if i let you slip through my fingers.” her heartbeat calms under your touch the longer abby speaks, bringing a warmness to your own. “don’t worry about all of it. you’re not going to. i won’t let you.” 
“okay.” abby says as she gets lost in the light in your eyes. the fire visible behind yours. the way she’s looking at you? fuck. unimaginable desire — all for you. it almost seems too good to be true. like you don’t deserve it. waiting for the pin to drop, all the misery drowning you with it. “did you have a good time tonight?” 
“yes baby, i did.” you smirk as she inches forward, closing you into your front door. back pressed against it, her small breasts pressed to your chest, her free hand extended, next to your head as it lays flat on the door.
“s’good. wouldn’t want to kiss you if the date was bad.” all the confidence is back. the abby who flirted with you shamelessly for months on end. knowing you’re happy is enough for her. it’s all she needs to know to let the loser in her fall to ashes. but you taking the reins for a moment, does something so visceral inside her. she nearly doesn’t know how to act until her instincts kick in. 
she’ll satisfy you — just in the way she knows how. 
“what are y—” abby pressed her body weight into you, strong hips pinning you against the door using one of her hands to pin both of yours above your head. you’re whimpering, signaling your shock but the whine omitting from your lips tells abby your pussy is shocked. soaked.
“doing what i should have done months ago.” her pink plump lips meet yours, taking complete control over you. but you welcome it with open arms. she grunts in your mouth causing you to gasp as abby’s tongue enters your mouth. massaging it with yours in a swift battle for dominance. 
it’s too much but also not enough. you’re grinding against her, your crotch kissing hers as you lift a leg, wrapping it around her waist. she continues kissing you like her entire life depends on it. not letting you feel anything but her. she’ll be your everything and you’re not leaving until you understand it just as much as her. “abs—” you mumble in her mouth, abby relinquishes the tight grip on her hands.
immediately your hands are woven in her hair. tugging at the golden hair, as you try to pull her closer to you, if it was even possible. but the two of you have to come up for air, abby the first one to break as she chuckles at both of your heaving chests. 
“fuck, you’re so hot, baby. can’t stand it.” you peck her lips softly. admiring how puffy and swollen they look from her ministrations. god, you want her to devour you once again. “‘m, drives me crazy.” you admit, taking in the intoxicating smirk on her face. you’re not made into a fumbling mess easily. the both of you know it. that’s how abby knows it in her bones, she has you. fuck, she can’t ever imagine letting go. 
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pomefioredove · 23 hours
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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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munv · 15 hours
Text
𝗜𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗡 𝗘𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗬
𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗕𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗜𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗦𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗲𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼?
I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH MWAH MWAH MWAHH
P8
It was a wednesday, and the day was going perfectly fine, before you were called over into the principals office.
"Itoshi [name], please report to the office. Itoshi [name]" hushed whispers spread out throughout the classroom and in the midst of it your best friend leaned over from her seat to whisper in your ear. "psstt..did you piss someone off?" you turned around to face the girl before letting out  a sigh, "not that I know of..see you at lunch?'
"right!
Quickly, you made a beeline to the main office. The last thing you wanted to be was late, and then find out that you really did something wrong. The urge to crawl into a hole was all consuming not to mention, you mean, why the hell do these kids stare so much? They are such certified gossipers..
By the time you reach the office door you take a deep breath, this could either be your demise or your biggest accomplishment on the planet yet. There is no in between, only gratitude and pain. Raising a hand, you make a move to knock on the door. "Hello?". From within you could hear a voice call out in response, "come in!!" she yells out. 
Sounds like she's busy you guess. Might as well make this one quick.
Opening the door, you walked into the room to face the woman in front of you. She was pretty, sure, but she was mainly soft whenever she didn't need to be. It was unnecessary considering how unruly most of the kids in this school were. "Itoshi-san! there you are,." "yes, is there something you need from me ms?" it was better to get to the point rather than some small talk right?. "Right right, i've gotten a call from your parents and it seems like an emergency of some sort popped up. They want you home immediately."
An emergency?..Did the house burn down or something? But either way if this is an "emergency" then they must've already picked up Sae to go home. "thank you for having me ms, I'll go pack my bag now." You bowed your head a little before walking out the door. Making sure to close it behind you. 
What a pain..
First of all. What the fuck. 
There were some thoughts here and there as to what the so called emergency could be. With Sae tightly hanging on to you, basically squeezing the bloodstream out your hand in the process, there was no way to say that this wasn't reality. Your mother was pregnant, yes, it was very obvious from one glance. But to think that she would be having the baby TODAY? your own father was ready to pass out. 
The only thing that kept you grounded from running into that room was Sae. You weren't there for his birth now that you think about it, but what if someone bad happened? What if something happened to the baby? There have been some sorry instances that mothers made it but the baby didn't. If something happens to her, will your father really be able to take care of all three of you by himself? 
what happens if this turns out like your past life?
Everything feels like everything is spiralling down on you, and it takes common sense to realize that this isn't just a game, this is real. The life you are living right now is real, the people beside you are real, and so are you. This isn't just some fantasy you've had after death, this isn't paradise. Everything around you is living and breathing, and this might be your last shot at having a proper life. So no matter what happens you have to take care of your family. 
"nee-san."
A voice calls out to you. That's right. You have Sae, and he takes priority. You squeezed back his hand once again for the day. "I'm here, Sae." You assure him. "I know you are." he squeezes back with more force. 
"But does nee-san know that I'm here to?" This takes you by surprise and you can only turn to look at Sae with shock plastered on your face. "stop taking on everything yourself.." he mumbles. But you're still able to catch it. It feels nice to not be alone, you realize. Usually you would take on everything on your own and shoulder everyone, but even sometimes you need to take a break for yourself too.
"so..you DO know how to be kind?" you teased. "I was just comforting you, you rude bum!" "who taught you that?!" "YOU" "TO HELL I DIDN'T" "THEN TO HELL YOU GO"
From a distance your father watched with a small chuckle. "they never really change..do they?" he said shaking his head.
It was three hours before they sent a nurse into the waiting room to inform your family that your mother and baby were completely stable. They let your father into the room first before anything. It made you a little nervous now that you were really thinking about it, but to have siblings, and a real family above all else made you happy.
It was a while before the doctors let you and sae in but it was worth the wait. On your way to the room he made small talk with you. "How does it feel to be an older sister kid?" 
"It's a bit troublesome, but I think I can handle two of them." He then started to question Sae as well. "And how does it feel to have another boy in your family?" "lukewarm." 
The doctor sweatdropped in response. "alright.." You walked a bit more before arriving to the room your mother is in. "alright, we're here" he took the courtesey to open the door. Inside laid your mother in a hospital gown on the bed, and to behold, was something wrapped in cloth in her arms. 
Your father sat on the chair right to her bedside and waved you two over after watching the doctor leave. 
"the family seems to be complete huh?" he laughed out. 
  ITOSHI OMAKE
"why is it looking at me like that?" currently sae was looking at his newborn baby brother. "did I look like that okaasan?" 
Your mother let out a giggle at sae's cluelessness. "of course you did! you were the cutest baby!" she pulled on his cheeks a bit. "eugh..it looks weird."
"It's a bit odd how [name] never cried as a baby. Gave us a whole lot less work than expected." You sat on the bed directly next to your mother holding the baby. He didn't really open his eyes but you could tell it would be the trademark teal eyes. The eyelashes were already there anyways.
"Does he have a name yet?" you questioned. "Sadly no." your father sighed. "Your mother was out cold for a while so we're yet to name him anything." 
your mother hummed while playing with your hair, soon starting to braid it before someone spoke up. 
"Rin." 
all eyes turned to the second youngest Itoshi in question. "his name will be Rin." he said poking a finger at the baby. Rin looked at sae before holding onto his finger, a smile then broke out on both the Itoshi's faces. Your smile followed after. 
"alright then! its settled."
"welcome to the family little rin!" your mother announced. Laughter broke out into the room and you looked at your two younger brothers. "yeah..welcome rin."
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AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?
I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.
The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.
Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.
The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.
Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.
I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.
PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.
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melbatron5000 · 21 hours
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Heartache
Since I put up my theories that Crowley and Aziraphale faked the break up in the Final Fifteen, I've had a LOT of people comment, "Then why are they so sad?"
LISTEN.
Imagine you and the person you love most in the world have to keep your relationship secret. Because no one would approve of it, and one or the other of you could be hurt or killed or imprisoned over it. So you keep it casual, and have to pretend you're not even friends.
Then you get a chance to change everything. You get a chance to save the world, and maybe have that relationship you both want so badly together. You even plan your proposal. You throw a big party and make it as romantic as you know how.
Then your party gets crashed by people who hate you.
And then an authority -- one that has the power to make both your lives horrible and maybe end them -- comes sniffing around. He's figured out you're up to something, and that you've teamed up, and been teamed up for a while. He maybe suspects you're more than friends, when even friends is something you are not allowed to be. He essentially black mails you into coming back with him, to what essentially amounts to prison, though he offers that your love can come with you. You'll both be in prison, and maybe not be able to save the world, but you'll be together, and safe.
You tell the person you love most in the world what's going on, that your plan has been uncovered, and beg him to come with so he will be safe. And your beloved says, "No, I'm not going, I want to fight for this. I want to fight for you, and for us. I want to save the world. We need to pretend to break up so I can keep working on our plan. You do what you can from inside prison, and I'll do my best from here, and let's try for this. For us." And then he breaks your heart and forces you to reject him. While your enemy watches and waits to take you to prison. And he doesn't let you leave without kissing you first. He gives you something while he kisses you that he hopes will help you. And then he goes.
Imagine your beloved tells you an authority has come sniffing around -- he suspects you're up to something and wants to haul you both to prison. Your beloved has no choice, he absolutely is going to prison, right now, but he wants you to come with him. You want to fight, you want to be free with your beloved and you want to save the world. So you tell him you have to fake a break up in order that one of you can stay free and hopefully make it work. And then you break his heart, and force him to reject you, while your enemy watches and waits to take him to prison. And you do not let him leave without kissing him first. You give him something while you kiss him that you hope will help him. And then you leave.
If you could do that while feeling nothing, totally confident that you're still a couple and everything is actually fine, you've got a different head than me. I wouldn't be okay, watching my husband get taken to prison for the crime of being in love with me. I certainly wouldn't be okay pretending not to care, or like we never meant much to each other after all.
The break up is fake. That doesn't mean any of those emotions are.
It actually makes it worse, in my opinion.
If Aziraphale had actually chosen Heaven over Crowley, Aziraphale would be sad, but not miserable. But he hasn't. He's going to prison without the one person he most wants to protect and be with. And he has no guarantee that Crowley will be safe, or that they will ever see each other again. He must be devastated.
If Aziraphale had chosen Heaven over Crowley, Crowley would have every right to be hurt and angry. But Aziraphale hasn't. He's being dragged to prison, where Crowley can't be with him and make sure he's okay, where Crowley knows he'll be treated badly, and Crowley's going to try to save the world, and if he succeeds, they can build that life together they've wanted for so long; but if he fails, they may never see each other again. He must be devastated.
Stop asking why they both look so sad if the break up is fake.
They are devastated.
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dropthedemiurge · 2 days
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Some language comments for Gray Shelter [Episode 5], just like I promised!
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"Do whatever/however you want to. (literally: 'Do it the way your heart desires') You do things how you want to anyway."
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"I'm sorry" - the translation is correct, it's just it's funny how Yoondae's level of apology to his friend he just lashed out at last time + he wants to ask him for HELP, and all he says is: 미안 (mian). The most informal and short way of apologizing possible. He's so teenager-minded still.
Even when he asks "Can I leave my stuff in your dad's warehouse?" it comes out grammatically more of a demand, like 'Let me do that'. Yoondae is talking like someone who has a lot of walls and doesn't reach out to people, he doesn't talk kindly but he's honest and straightforward and he cries easily but he's very angry about it.
I especially love his facial expression, even when he's at his most miserable, he'll make it everyone else's problem, as if being pitiful is the worst thing that could happen to him. "I have no one else I could ask for help but you >:(("
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Fun fact about Korean's sentence structure, when you quote someone or express your thoughts, you put your sentence this way: "quoted phrase" and then + "that's what they said/what i thought/etc". So oftentimes, I see Kdramas use that trick when characters say a phrase... and then take it back with "that's someone else's thoughts" or "that's what you thought I'd say, right? LMAO". It's funny how the translators' way of transferring this was using the word "Sike!" xD
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"It wasn't a mistake to me." "If it wasn't a mistake, then [what]? Since you started talking [about it], let me ask you. So what if it wasn't a mistake? What do you want to achieve with me?" "Can I do anything about it? In the past or now, you're the one who runs away and avoids me. I asked you, can I make a decision (do I have any choices)?" "You made the move but you want me to decide? Fine, then. Let sleep together once and end it once and for all. Go wash up first. I don't have time, I only left office for a short time."
The way they both care about each other but their dialogues and words are very sharp and bitter almost all the time, especially here, aaaah. That's the contrast that hooked me for all these 5 episodes. Soohyuk doesn't swear but he's talking to Yoondae very harshly and emotionless here, and for Yoondae harsh talk is the default, it's like Soohyuk is lowering his manners to talk on his level, to provoke him (or maybe that's also how he distances himself from the discovery that Yoondae has feelings for him).
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And Yoondae is holding back his frustration and tears, but he understands the way such words were aimed to hurt him, so instead of lashing out back at Soohyuk, as he probably wants him to, he swallows and unusually calmly, almost softly says: "Let's talk when you can be honest. Because I will shut up and wait for you."
And it makes Soohyuk stand there in shock and contemplate.
I'll add next scenes in READ MORE since this post is getting long!
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Here's the moment when the boss asks their youngest employee to write something more 'trendy' for their marketing text xD It's very true that trends in Korea come and go very quickly, they also love to invent new terms and phrases all the time. Like "MZ slang", there are many phrases, and the one trendy phrase the boss uses as the example is 킹받네 (king-pad-nae) which literally written as 'receive the king' but means "I got angry" - but with a teasing/playful subtext, like friends could say each other 'ah you're so cute, it makes me angry'.
If I'm not wrong, this phrase was widely used like 1-2 years ago and not really in its trendy peak as well right now but kudos to boss to even learning it xD And it's funny how translator chose to (I assume) use "[living in my head] rent-free" phrase as a substitute. Another fun fact, they ended up using some trendy lingo in their ad that translator gave us as "no cap!" but that part of phone msg was so blurry, I couldn't see which exact Korean phrase they ended up using x)
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"Hyung, if you have any ask for help, say so. For you, 2 million... No, I'll try to give you until 3 million won in any way."
Can I just say that we had this character for one moment and I'm so not ready to let him go, I want Jeongwan to have his own storyline and everything and he's too sweet and also caring for strangers/his colleagues, and so he stole the spotlight for me xD
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Yoondae said there's no food at home. But also, as you can see, there is: beer, water, rice that you can cook in the microwave, kimchi for a side dish and some other microwaved food. According to my Korean friends, typical Korean person (poor like student) can survive if they have rice, kimchi and also ramyeon. That's their the most basic food. Just a fun fact. xD
Also he was on his third can of beer, and he already made a drunken longing call on the verge of tears to Soohyuk, lying about being hurt and bringing trouble just so he'd return home. "Is that okay with you?" - just shoot me, please. :')
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"I called [the cleaning service/you] to tell you to stop it [sleeping outside of home]" "Let's have that dinner [that I promised you] today. Wait for me."
After days, Yoondae was ready to give up, he "tricked" Soohyuk to return home just so he could tell him he'll move out and stop pushing any talk. And then, Soohyuk brought up the dinner (the feelings) that he kept avoiding. No wonder Yoondae looked so struck and confused. It just gave him his hopes back (and viewers too, but we probably should've known better with this kind of series haha)
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Interesting cultural context: they are getting samgyeopsal - grilled meat, chosen by Soohyuk because Yoongdae said there wasn't anything he wanted to eat. And usually, the youngest one has to set the cutlery and grill meat, out of respect for the seniors. And here we see that Soohyuk is the one choosing the place, menu and even grilling the meat and pouring soju for Yoondae.
Once again, it shows that despite Yoondae's emotions and pleads, he is not mature enough, he is not ready to focus on other people. We know he can't plan his own future, he doesn't know what to do, and we see where their relationship stands now - Yoondae is still more of a burden than an equal partner to Soohyuk, and Soohyuk is more of a parent.
Even when they drink soju (in Korean drinking etiquette usually you don't drink alone, you toast together and drink together), notice how they don't even clink their glasses together, then Soohyuk is the only one drinking and Yoondae wants to follow him but puts the glass back. He's taking a shot later, when Soohyuk grills the meat again. They are totally unsynchronized at this point of their lives, and it's painful to watch.
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"I said he [my father] was dead because that's the truth/reality for me. There was no other [hidden] meaning. I didn't plan to lie to you."
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"I moved out completely. If I don't organize my life starting from doing this, then I don't think I'll be able to live like all the other [normal] people."
The fact that Yoondae started thinking about improving his life (the word 'organizing'), immediately made Soohyuk stop in surprise. So he started asking what does the normal life like others mean to him, hopeful to find that equal adult footing from Yoondae... but Yoondae's thoughts stopped there. And Soohyuk offered his own goal and life meaning: "to have a place to go back to, that's enough for me".
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Here's when Yoondae thoughtfully agreed with him: "It's important to have a home", and took the meat tongs from Soohyuk, saying how high-maintenance he is. Yoondae embraced that realization, he took the responsibility (even a small cultural gesture) and even though Yoondae nagged him, Soohyuk smirked. Because it wasn't a completely hopeless situation. And Yoondae proved it, by saying how eating like this and going home together is his normal life as well. (and yet they were still unsynchronized until the very end! we can't have happy ending yet)
AND HERE IS WHERE I HAVE TO MAKE A SECOND POST! Because tumblr only allows 30 images in one, and I can't stop screenshotting the last conversation so I'm going to make another post that you can find in 'gray shelter comments' or 'dropthemeta' tags (upd. or here's the link to the post!)^^
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emepe · 2 days
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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers
— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?
— Chapter summary: The killer has the police fooled. Meanwhile, you and Eren enjoy more of each other’s company.
— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, dry humping, make out, mention of stalking, murder, mention of torture, mention of rape.
— Notes: Welcome to chapter 7 <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!
Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist
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lost signs
“Detective.”
A meek voice pulls Levi's attention from the paperwork scattered across his desk, as a fresh manila folder is promptly set down before him.
“The notes on the autopsy.” 
Every other task is instantly abandoned as the raven-haired man grabs the folder and goes through the pages of the autopsy report, along with the notes provided by his subordinate. 
Less than an hour later, Levi's knocking on the door of his captain's office, staying true to his habit of walking in before being invited.
“What do you have there?” 
Erwin Smith barely spares a proper look at Levi as he continues scrolling through a file on his computer. 
“Carly Stratmann's autopsy notes.”
Erwin simply nods, not showing much interest in the topic but not yet doing anything to shoo the stoic detective from his office. 
“You're the lead detective on this case. Don't tell me you need me to hold your hand for this.” 
Levi clicks his tongue at the remark, but straightens his posture to keep up his stern appearance. 
“I think we need to raise a few alarms.”
Erwin shoots a menacing look in his direction, but purses his lips before he can spout another sharp remark.
Levi Ackerman hasn't been working the homicide department for long — just barely a couple of years after transferring from property crime, and just as many major cases under his belt. 
His sudden need to raise alarms doesn't come as a surprise to Erwin. The man's got good instincts, albeit he's a bit too quick to act on them for Erwin's liking at times. And that's when he intervenes to rein him in.
On a day when he's so burnt out from work, the task is even more annoying to take on than usual.
“Is it the same M.O. as the Langnar case?”
“Not exactly, but—”
“I'll stop you right there, then,” Erwin firmly says, holding a hand up to make his point, hoping he can cut today's coolly disguised frenzy short. 
Though calm and collected — practically icy — on the outside, detective Ackerman has been letting his personal convictions sway his thinking since the Langnar murder. 
Erwin doesn't care to know much about his subordinates — it's just a job — but he knows Ackerman has a beloved niece of similar age to the recent murder victims living in the city, and it doesn't take much to deduce that's where his hidden worries stem from. 
“There aren't many coincidences, it's true,” Levi states, resisting the urge to harshly spit the words at his superior. After all, a man who wants to be heard, has no need to raise his voice. “But even if these are isolated cases, it wouldn't hurt to… I don't know, set up a curfew… send out more units to patrol at night. Erwin, two women were murdered without a trace of DNA from the culprit.”
He sighs, then mutters the next few words under his breath.
“That's not a fucking coincidence.”
Erwin leans forward into his desk.
“Alright, Ackerman, I'll humor you for a minute.”
His hands clasp together, his chin resting on top as he formulates a question.
“Aside from the lack of DNA and the fact that they're women, is there anything in the autopsy reports that's enough to suspect we've got a serial killer in our hands?” 
Levi tenses his jaw, tongue rolling against his cheek before sourly replying.
“No.”
Erwin's eyebrows rise as a sign of finality. But Levi stands his ground, taking his gesture as defiance.
“I get your point. Stratmann could have nothing to do with Langnar. Maybe it was someone they knew or maybe it's not. If that's the case, are two criminals better than one? Is that what we're hoping for?”
Erwin's stern gaze falters for a split second, but he recovers just as quickly.
“How do we discard a serial killer in the making? What if this person hasn't fixed themselves on their M.O.? We can get them early in their career if we make a move right n–”
“We can't make moves based on gut feelings.”
Erwin's statement makes Levi shrink back for the first time since walking into the office.
“Langnar was tortured. Her injuries were consistent with weeks of trauma. Choked, handcuffed, cut, beaten, sliced at the mouth post-mortem, and dismembered. A very tedious and meticulous process, wouldn't you say? She had to have spent weeks in captivity and that points to either a person who was close enough to lure her into their trap or a stalker who observed her before kidnapping her.” He gestures for Levi to hand him the file in his hands, snatching the folder and ripping it open once he's close enough. “Stratmann was sliced at the neck, choked beforehand, raped post-mortem. It's sloppy and clear to have been done on a whim.” 
“She was left in a dumpster, too,” Levi reminds him. “Just like Langnar.”
Erwin presses his lips into a thin line, his thick eyebrows weighed down with severity.
“That's not enough to go off of. We can't cry ‘serial killer’ over one measly coincidence.” 
Levi can feel himself wavering at Erwin's arguments. 
“Can we at least impose a curfew?” he asks.
Erwin heavily sighs, enough for the movement to be caught on his now slumping shoulders.
“As I said, bring me solid proof of a connection and we'll talk.”
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“Okay. Spill,” Mikasa orders as soon as she scurries out of the bathroom and plops down criss-crossed on the sofa.
It's Saturday night and you and Sasha are staying over at Mikasa's place for a girl's night.
The living room floor is littered with blankets, cushions and pillows, and the television is playing a random horror movie that has gone ignored since Sasha wondered out loud how Eren was doing a few minutes ago. She seemingly asked nobody in particular, but it was clear you were meant to respond with both girl's eyes set on you the moment the green-eyed man's name came up.
You figured the sleepover was a cover for an ambush. The girls formed a separate group chat for just the three of you, coincidentally the day after your first date with Eren and have been asking to get together for the past week. 
You tug nervously at the sleeve of your pajama top, shying away from the expectant gaze that seeps through Mikasa's face mask.
You shrug.
“What do you wanna know?”
“Who made the first move?” Sasha asks, scooting closer to you as if that means she'll get more details.
You ponder for a moment. It's hard to tell. Eren was first to ask you out two months ago, but you were the first to kiss him last Saturday. In a way, you both had a chance to steer the wheel.
When you explain this to the girls, they swoon, falling into a fit of excited giggles.
“I never pegged you for the bold type,” Mikasa grins, lightly smacking your shoulder. “I bet Eren loved that.”
Sasha nods in agreement, giddy.
“I can't believe you didn't tell us right away,” Mikasa pouts. 
“I don't think you would've remembered, Mika,” you say. “You had three Long Islands that night.”
“Still, it would've been nice to know,” she sighs dramatically. 
“Okay, so you got together the night of the Halloween party,” Sasha reviews. “But what about the day we went to Sunrise? I totally thought you guys had a thing going on back then. I mean, Eren never left your side, even before you got hurt.”
The apple-picking trip seems like so long ago, but the memory remains fresh in your mind. You smile at the mental image of Eren's serious expression as he claimed to never have been so curious to know anyone before you.
“Oh my gosh,” Mikasa squeals, aggressively smacking Sasha’s back as she's reminded of something. “She was feeding him peanuts on the way there. They were so shy, it was adorable.”
Instinctively, your hands come up to cover your face in embarrassment. It didn't even register until now that the people in the backseat witnessed the awkward exchange. 
Now that you've tasted the lips that brushed against your fingertips that day, the reminder seems even more embarrassing. 
You smack your cheeks lightly in an attempt to ground yourself. The girls watch you amusedly, exchanging knowing glances in between.
“Have you guys… you know.” Mikasa raises her eyebrows suggestively.
Warmth floods your cheeks again.
“Not yet,” you murmur. “We're taking things slow.”
She looks surprised, but nods in support.
“Of course,” she says. “Slow is good.” 
“Says the girl who pounced on Jean after one of his gigs because she was jealous.” 
“Hey!” Mikasa whines, growing shy at the accusation. “I had to get a message across. He was being petty.”
Sasha throws her head back in laughter.
“No, he was just stupid. He had no idea you liked him back until that night.”
Your gaze flickers between the two girls as you piece their conversation together. 
A blushing Mikasa picks up a cushion and chucks it at Sasha’s face who easily avoids the blow and laughs at the raven-haired girl's pout.
“Whatever,” Mikasa groans. She turns to look at you, features instantly shifting into a more cheerful expression.
“So how do you feel?”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“About Eren.”
“It's only been a week,” you explain.
“So?” she shrugs. “You guys have been spending a lot of time together, haven't you? Armin told me Eren's been driving you to work everyday. That means you've had a lot of one-on-one time.”
Shyly, you lower your head, focusing your gaze on the black and white pattern of the comforter laid beneath you. Your fingers mindlessly trace over the texture of the fabric.
“I guess so.”
Both girls smile.
“So what's the verdict?” Sasha asks.
“I… I really like him,” you sigh, lips tugged into a smile. “Like… really really like him.”
Another round of excited squeals and giggles echoes through the room. 
Their thrill only encourages you further, pushing you into a tangent of how thoughtful Eren is and how he always manages to hold you with so much care, bringing you peace each time he's close. 
“He makes me feel safe. Is that weird to say?” 
Mikasa shakes her head as she peels off the mask from her face, wrinkling the sheet into a ball and chucking it across the room to the trash can in one corner. She misses by an inch.
“Not at all. I don't mean to sound old-fashioned but you have to be with someone who makes you feel cared for.”
Sasha hums in agreement as she shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth. She holds a finger up, asking you to wait for her to gulp down the snack.
“And someone who makes you laugh, also very important.” 
You nod along with Mikasa.
“Oh, and… well, when you get to it… someone you're sexually compatible with,” she adds. “People like to pretend it's not a big deal but it really is. Sex is okay but great sex with someone who knows how to touch you is where you find out if you're in sync. There needs to be communication and understanding and care. It's so fucking important.”
Mikasa looks down at her friend as she pats her head affectionately.
“You're so wise for someone who doesn't have a boyfriend.”
Sasha quirks an eyebrow.
“Hey, just because I'm not blurting it out to everybody doesn't mean I don't have anything going on.”
Mikasa hums contemplatively. 
“Do tell.”
The conversation takes a turn to Sasha’s latest sexcapades, and you take turns with Mikasa to look surprised at the stories she shares.
By the end of the night, when you're all teetering the edge of sleep with a third movie serving as background noise, your mind drifts back to the emerald-eyed boy who makes you laugh so easily, draws every emotion from you, and cares for you like it's what he was put on this earth for. 
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Water pools at your feet out of thin air. You’re stuck in a dark void with no end, yet the water you’re eyes frantically search the source of keeps rising at a startling speed, soaking little by little into your clothes until it weighs you down.
Running seems futile. The void has no end and the water keeps steadily climbing up your body, so who knows how long you’ll have until you’re fully submerged — with no exit in view. Even if you could run, the weight of your drenched clothes would only pull you back. But you can’t even move anyway, you realize. You’re stuck in place, feet unable — or unwilling — to even take a couple of waddling steps. 
The water is up to your hips now. With trembling hands, you reach down and scoop at the liquid. It’s thick and with a smell so rancid it stretches through the infinite length of the emptiness you stand in. The water’s filthy. 
Your hands drop at your sides in an unsettling daze. The next second, your breath grows shallow and you start pulling at your feet as the water reaches your neck. Tears prick at your eyes as you cry at your feet, begging for them to move, to lift from the ground so you could at least make some weak attempt at reaching the surface for air. 
Suddenly, a light. Pure white shines brightly from far ahead, where a golden silhouette stands at the threshold between darkness and light — the void’s borders. The other person bangs their fists at the invisible wall keeping you apart, yelling something you can’t make out. Are they yelling at you? No, they don’t even seem to notice your presence. So who are they yelling at? Up at the sky… They’re yelling something up at the sky. But what are they saying? Who does the golden silhouette even belong to?
Your left foot unsticks from the ground unprompted. A sharp breath is all you take before you make your first step toward the light, hand midair to call for the figure’s attention. Just then, an unknown body pulls you into them from behind, crashing your body down into the murky water, where your lungs fill with filth and your eyes flutter shut.
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You wake with a small gasp coming through your lips. Still stiffened by the strange dream, your eyes are all that wander the unfamiliar room. The television is set to a screensaver, likely triggered by an extended lack of attention to whatever on-demand production was playing before you fell asleep. There’s a clutter of takeout containers on the coffee table and used glasses with remnants of soda that can safely be assumed to be flat by now. 
Slowly, you stir on the velvet green sofa you’re lying on, when you take note of the firm hold around your waist, followed by the soft exhales released onto the crown of your head. You look down at the familiar watch wrapped around the wrist of the hand that holds you in place.
Oh, you think. That’s right. I’m at Eren’s place.
He’s been having trouble catching up on work, meaning he’s had to stay up late for the past couple of nights. He’s a stickler about getting a good night’s rest, so the temporary change in work shifts has thrown him off quite a bit. You told him to stay home and rest — that you could go to the movies another time; next Sunday was fine with you — but he insisted on seeing you, even if it meant a more casual hangout in his living room with Chinese food and a comedy-drama film from the 2000s playing on the TV. 
At some point in the evening, the late hours caught up to him all at once and he even managed to get you to stay with him, wrapped in his arms as his sleepiness found its way to your body as well. 
Craning your neck, you peer at Eren’s sleepy face from the corner of your eye. You smile. He’s got an innocent look about him even in his sleep. His lips are parted just enough to take and release soft breaths. You sink back into the couch, wiggling around to find the comfortable position you were previously in. 
Eren feels you moving and his arm instantly pulls you closer to his body. His warmth transfers through every layer of clothing, enveloping you in a warm embrace. In his sleep, he mumbles a string of words you can’t quite comprehend under his breath, but the vibrations against your back coax you back into a peaceful slumber. 
The next time you wake up, it's already getting dark out. The coffee table has been cleared of its mess, and the body lying behind you is no more. Forced by the absence of his arms around you, you trudge out of the living room to look for him as you rub the sleep from your eyes. 
He's in the kitchen, back to you, filling a glass with cold water from the fridge. 
Leaning against the threshold, you watch him adoringly, marveling at his toned figure from behind. He chugs his first glass of water down, refilling it as soon as he finishes. As he brings the glass to his lips once more, he turns around, eyebrows rising slightly when he takes in your presence.
“Boo,” you smile, standing straight and making your way over to him.
He abandons the glass of water as soon as you meet him, opting to use his hands to push you closer to him by the small of your back as yours rest on his shoulders.
“Did I wake you?” he asks.
You shake your head.
“Just felt lonely, all of a sudden.”
An amused air blows through his nose. 
Your hands find a way to his hair, fingers carding through the strands as he keeps his gaze fixed on your face.
His hair has gotten longer, and the strands around his face now cover his forehead, tickling the skin. It’s not messy, by any means, but it gives him an edgier look. The duality of Eren Jaeger’s appearance is a wonder to you. He’s got a way of tipping the scales between cute and sexy with every little thing he does. 
You smile at the few rebellious locks that poke out, still fixed in the angle provided by his nap.   
“What?” he asks, mirroring your smile.
“Your hair’s getting long,” you murmur.
“I’ll get a haircut soon, don’t worry,” he replies, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, amused by the way you follow after him once he starts retreating from the contact. He kisses you once more to keep you from pouting.
“I didn’t say anything,” you chuckle. “If you want to grow out your hair, that’s fine. You don’t have to keep it short. I was just pointing it out.”
He shakes his head, humming in denial. 
“Nah. This part’s starting to bug me. I just haven’t had time to get it cut,” he explains, brushing back the hair covering his forehead. He proceeds to squeeze your waist on either side. “But what do you prefer?”
“I don’t know,” you mutter with a shrug.
“Gun to your head, which looks better?” he smiles.
His extremist question earns him an eye roll but you answer him nonetheless after a beat.
“I like your short hair,” you finalize earnestly. 
He grins, cupping your face with one hand as he places a kiss on your cheek — then on your jaw, and one in the crook of your neck.
“Yeah?” he murmurs against the sensitive skin.
You nod, a small smile dancing across your lips at his tender affections.
“You look very handsome with a clean undercut. The day I met you I actually thought you were really good-looking.”
He pulls away from his task on your neck to stare at you in disbelief. 
“And yet you refused to go out with me. I can’t believe you.”
He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in mock disappointment.
You laugh. The sound swells him with pride — it lights up the room.
“Looks aren't everything, dummy. You're so shallow.”
It's your turn to feign disappointment while he stands there, amused.
“Right, right,” he nods. “I forgot you fell for me because I'm a strong and dependable man.” 
He flexes his muscles, making a whole show out of his pointed remark.
You roll your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your face is hard to deny. 
“Isn't that right?” he teases.
You don't humor him with an answer — there's no real need for it.
With his hands settled comfortably on your hips, he guides you backward, until your back is pressed against the counter, before he hoists you up and sets you onto it with ease. You welcome him between your thighs with a smile, breath hitching when he caresses your knee over your jeans and buries his face in the crook of your neck.
“My baby,” he coos, pressing an open-mouthed kiss onto your skin. 
You giggle at the teasing meaning behind the affectionate name, heart fluttering at the feeling of him smiling against your skin.
The both of you keep your positions for a while — him breathing in your perfume while you stroke his soft hair tenderly.
Being with Eren feels so easy. It's a wonder how comfortable you feel with barely a week tallied for your relationship. Each morning and evening when he drives you to and from work have definitely helped. 
After your sobbing confession outside of your apartment, you apologized for making Eren feel as though he was troubling you by being so attentive. 
All the accumulated trauma in your heart had ironically made you the perpetrator of making him believe there was no real place for him in your life even after you accepted his liking for you. He didn't ask any followup questions that night, but he understood and vowed to be patient.
You're still trying to be okay with that — his unmoving loyalty. But it's easier to accept when you remind yourself he wouldn't stick around if he didn't want to.
Looking down at the boy in your arms, you smile. He can be so childish at times — teasing you, insisting you hold him, easily shaken by a few late nights. And yet there was something so comforting in his behavior. He's always so happy to see you, making sure to clock in quality time hours — not that he didn't enjoy the daily drives, but it wasn't exactly a date. Not to mention his unwavering need to make sure you're safe. At least his rare stubbornness has good reason.
Reluctantly abandoning the comfort of your neck, he lifts his face to meet your eyes. His gaze bores into yours, engulfing you in warm pools of emerald. 
A lazy grin takes over his features. 
“I like that,” he murmurs.
Your eyebrows twitch in confusion.
“This,” he explains, bringing a hand to your head and mimicking the strokes you've weaved into his hair. “It feels nice.”
An airy chuckle escapes your lips and you make a point to stroke his hair more.
His face hovers over yours. His hands rest on either side of you as he leans into your affections. His eyes flutter closed as he sighs at your touch. 
You look up at him mesmerized by his angelic features. It's true you've always thought he's handsome, but this closeness makes you appreciate every detail of his face even more. His long lashes, the faint freckles on his nose, the thick eyebrows that are softening with each feel of your fingers combing through his hair, the perfect plump lips that whisper your name. 
It makes your heart pound against your ribs loudly, the sound echoing in your ears as your hands grow sweaty.
That's when you decide to pull him in for a kiss. His eyes flutter open for a split second of surprise before they close again, at peace and happy. Your hands lose themselves in his hair as his wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter by the small of your back.
The contact is painfully slow, with measured pecks in between deeper kisses. He melts into you, lips softly grazing yours, breath fanning across your mouth as he nips at your bottom lip with his teeth to later soothe the area with his tongue. His lips slot warmly between yours, dragging out at a snail's pace before coming back. 
The tip of his tongue pokes between your lips, shy but determined to be granted the access you so easily provide. A soft moan bubbles up your throat as his tongue caresses yours with vehemence. It's unusually hot, but the foreign feeling of his tongue in your mouth is greatly appreciated, marked by the way you desperately try to pull him even closer, in hopes that he can swallow you whole.
The pit of your stomach flutters and stirs with the most pleasant tingle when one of his hands travels to the back of your neck and he pushes his hips against yours. Despite the layers keeping you apart, it's easy to tell he's grown hard from the sweet exchange. He's rock solid under his pants, the delicate moans that bounce off your tongue and onto his making him bigger with every passing second. 
He knows you can feel it, but you don't seem to mind, your head too dizzy with the collective sensations being fed to your body — his warm tongue, his bulge brushing your most sensitive spot over your jeans, his left hand holding you in place by the back of your neck while the other firmly squeezes your waist as he's consumed by the passionate kiss. 
You cling onto him, thighs drawing closer to keep him flush against you. His hips roll against yours, brushing so deliciously against the spot that's growing wet beneath your clothing that it sends a tickle up your insides.
He sucks on your tongue, the act drawing more lustful mewls from the back of your throat. 
You're feverish, your face burning when your shirt happens to rise, exposing your midriff to his calloused fingers which were so careful not to touch any new skin before the incident. 
There's a string of saliva that connects your mouths when you finally break your fervent makeout. His lips are swollen and glossy with your saliva, as you're sure yours are with his. 
“Eren,” you weakly whine in between breaths. 
“Hm?” he hums, as he parts from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck.
You shudder when he swirls his tongue against your sweet spot before gently kissing it.
You whine his name again, though your voice has a stronger shape to it this time.
He turns to face you, pecking your lips just once before easing his grip on your body.
“I know,” he murmurs. “Slow, I remember.”
“Yeah,” you breathe. 
His nose brushes against yours as he tilts his head to press a calmer, cooler kiss onto your lips. 
“I want to, by the way,” you admit bashfully, avoiding his blown pupils and opting to look at a blank point on his shirt. “Just… not yet.”
When your gaze flickers to his, he's looking down at you warmly.
“I understand,” he murmurs. 
Your eyes flit toward the window, reminding you of how late it's getting.
“I should go, it's already dark out.”
Eren nods, pulling back from the counter until you both notice the tent in his pants. You tear your gaze from the area, searching for something of interest elsewhere. 
He blushes, ready to express an apology for his body's reaction to your wanton moans and feverish kisses, but you hop off the counter and trail off to the living room to search for your jacket before he can, leaving him to softly laugh at your meek behavior as he makes his way to the bathroom. 
When he comes looking for you in the living room a couple of minutes later, you're seated on the couch, waiting patiently for him. 
You smile upon his return, no trace of embarrassment left on your features.
“Do you really have to go?” he asks.
Your expression softens but you nod.
“We have work tomorrow. And I know how you get if you don't get your beauty sleep,” you tease. 
He rolls his eyes, but wears a playful smile nonetheless. 
“No. I mean,” he takes a deep breath. “You could stay the night… if you want to.”
His voice grows timid with every word as he gauges your reaction to his offer. He doesn't want to be pushy, by any means, but he hopes you'll accept.
He watches you chew on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say.
“Unless, of course, that goes against the whole taking-things-slow agreement,” he awkwardly laughs. “But I just… figured you should know… I wouldn’t object to you spending the night. No funny business. Just… to sleep.”
A breath of relief pushes past his lips when a small smile finally grows over your previously troubled features.
“Maybe not tonight,” you say. “But I’ll think about it.”
His lips curl inwards to hide his smile before he holds his hand out to you so you can head out the door together.
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Eren swings your linked hands as you travel down the hall from the elevator. It's a habit he's developed over the past few days after seeing you cry for the first time.
The image lingered with bitterness in his head the entire night. It still pops up every now and then, reminding him he has to do everything in his capability to keep it from happening again. 
As you walk to your door, hands comically swinging more aggressively each time with Eren's playful attitude, he marvels at your laughing face, feeling at ease with everything concerning you. 
He finally eases up on his swing when you reach your door, but your fingers remain laced with his until you absolutely have to part ways.
“Sorry I was so tired today,” he says, holding your hands up to compare the difference in size. He presses his palm against yours, eyes shimmering at the sight before he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. “I'll make it up to you next time.”
“I don't mind just hanging out,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It's fun.”
He smiles as he watches you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket with your free hand. The click of the lock always comes before letting go, but it's fine because he still gets to see you tomorrow morning for the drive to your office. 
You turn to him, leaving the keys dangling on the lock as you drape your arms around his neck.
“By the way,” you murmur, pressing yourself further into his chest when his arms wrap around your waist. “You can spend the night at my place, too, if you want.” 
His features twitch and his eyes light up with interest at the offer.
“No funny business,” you add, before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Just to sleep.”
He laughs.
“Of course. What kind of guy do you take me for?”
You smile, affectionately brushing your nose against his with your eyes closed.
“Just thought I'd let you know.”
“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs mockingly, echoing your response from earlier.
You look up at him quizzically.
“Do I sense some competition over whose apartment we stay at first?” you accuse. 
“I’ll get on my knees if you want,” he quips without missing a beat, not bothering to be cool about the topic.
You giggle.
“Perfect. I love pathetic men.”
He stifles a laugh, eyes twinkling in amusement as a reflection of yours. Then he turns on a comically serious expression.
“Baby, I’m as pathetic as they come,” he firmly states, which makes you laugh even more.
“You're such a dork,” you giggle.
He hugs you tightly, playfully rocking your connected bodies in the middle of the hallway as he peppers your face with kisses, relishing in your amused squeals.
The giddiness in your expression remains even after you're both standing still and he's no longer attacking you with kisses.
“Thank you for making time for me,” you smile. “I mean, you already do so much with driving me to work and everything. If you’re ever not in the mood, you can—”
He cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips.
“It’s my pleasure.” 
You bite back a grin and nod.
“Goodnight,” he murmurs before letting go and beginning his journey out with backwards steps.
“Bye, Eren,” you smile.
Before he can turn on his heel, you catch up to him, instantly making him drop his confused expression for a much softer one when you press your lips against his in one last kiss goodbye. When you pull back, he's got a goofy grin on his face as he waits for you to explain yourself. 
You smile shyly.
“For the road.”
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November 4, 2024
I found out where my angel lives. It's not too bad a place, but I'm sure she'll like the room I'm fixing for her better. I'm working on a way to get some of her favorite things over to my place. Hopefully she won't miss them too much before I can reunite her with them. 
I'm so relieved. It was worth keeping an eye on her for the last few days. The only downside to come out of this is that I have to see that jerk's stupid face everywhere. He just can't leave her alone for a damn second. 
It pisses me off to see him touch her like it's nothing. That should be ME kissing her and making her laugh. Not him. He shouldn't be allowed to touch her. Still, she looks so happy each time. But I can't be mad at her. I could never be mad at my angel. She'll realize soon enough that I'm the one meant for her. I just have to suck it up in the meantime. It's bad enough that I have to keep my distance for now but do I have to see her smiling at the wrong guy, too? I can't take it. 
She's gotten prettier. It seems impossible but it's true. I could look at her for days on end — and I have the past week as proof. Her smile is brighter and she's practically glowing. It only makes the wait even harder but I still have so much to get done for her arrival. I can't wait to see the look on her face when I finally bring her home with me so we can be happy together.
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yanderepuck · 15 hours
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Me?? Writing Mozart???? Anyone writing Mozart is a surprise surprise tbh. I bully him too much and therefore it's so hard for me to write him. Is this good? Not exactly. But the Mozart simps can't say I never did anything for them
BUT YOU'RE ALSO GETTING TWO SMUT FICS IN ONE DAY??? let's just say I'm feeling some type of way. You bitches getting fed today.
Mozart has been living outside the mansion for a few months now. He has an apartment in the city so that he wouldn't have to take a carriage back and forth.
For a while you were going back and forth between the mansion and his apartment. There are plenty of days where he is working nonstop and you try to take care of him and try to get him to take a break but it's no use.
"Süße," you call out for him from the couch but he doesn't move. "Süße," you look over at him. He's at his desk, writing music or replying to letters you assume. You pout. "Süße."
You know he can hear you. Why isn't he answering. "Wolfgang!" it took you so long to get used to calling him that. It still feels weird. You sit up on the couch, about to get to if he didn't hear you this time.
"Hm? What is it?" He still doesn't look up, but at least he answers you.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I did. You just didn't say it right," he chuckles at you while you huff.
You get up and go over to him, putting your arms over his shoulders. "That's what you call me. How am I saying it wrong?"
"It's süßer for me," he drops his own and holds one of your hands.
"Oh wow, so different," you pout, but you still kiss the top of his head. You try to pull him from his chair. "Come spend time with me," you whine. "You have been glued to your desk for days."
You keep trying to pull him up but he's not budging. He laughs softly seeing how determined you are. "Okay okay. Just let me finish writing this letter," he kisses the hand he's holding and you let him go.
"Okay, but that's it for today!"
You let him finish writing it while you go into the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. It was getting to be around the time you should start cooking.
You get a few things out and set them on the counter. "I wonder if he'll want to eat tonight," you talk to yourself and turn around and see Mozart walking in.
You smile and go up to him to hug him tightly.
"You've been so mean to me," you look up at him pouting.
"What? I haven't done anything."
"Exactly," you glare at him. "I need attention."
He then hugs you back, holding you close. "Attention? Like this?" He kisses you, making you him softly.
"Mmm, more please," he kisses you again and you kiss back. "You taste like coffee," you giggle.
"I have been drinking quite a bit."
"No more for the rest of the night. You need proper sleep," you kiss him again before letting him go to go back to the counter. "Do you want to eat with me tonight?"
"Depends. What are you making?" He walks over to see what you pulled out
"Nothing too spicy, I promise," you chuckle, remembering last time he tried something new from you. You added way too many spices for him to handle.
He seems to think for a moment. "I'll try it."
"Perfect! I'll start cooking soon then."
You smile and take his hand, taking him back to the living room. All you want is to curl up next to him for a while, have him play with your hair while you relax. Which does happen.
You sit in his lap, leaning against him while he is brushing his fingers through your hair, getting out some loose knots. You lift your head up to kiss him.
It was only meant to be a little kiss, but once he kissed you back you didn't want to stop. He didn't try to pull away either. You both kept going.
Shifting on his lap, you face him, your legs on either side. His hands rest on your hips. You moan softly, arms going over his shoulders.
You can't help but start to rock your hips, getting a moan out of him. Your grip onto his shirt, getting more worked up.
He stills your hips, holding you down.
"What do you think you're doing," it's a lighthearted tease. He wants to hear you say it.
"C-can we go to the bedroom. Please," you start to whine.
His hands slide down your body and before you know it he's standing and holding you. You always forget about that vampiric strength, even still, you wrap your legs around his waist and hold on around his neck.
As he carries you, you start kissing his neck, lightly nibbling at his skin.
He drops you on the bed, giving you the view of him taking his shirt off. You sit there and watch rather than getting your own clothes off.
Mozart tosses his shirt to the side and looks down at you. "I can't do much if you keep your clothes on."
You immediately blush and fumble with your clothes, wanting them off as quickly as you can. You're clothes are barely to the floor and Mozart gets on top of you, kissing you roughly.
Keeping your lips together, you move further back onto the bed so you aren't along the edge, Mozart following you, not breaking the kiss until you lay back.
Lifting up one of your legs he kisses your ankle as he brings it over his shoulder.
"You're so beautiful," he smiles, getting you to blush before he slides into you.
You moan, quickly trying to bite your lip to stay quiet.
With one hand on your leg and another on your hip he starts to thrust into you.
He keeps a steady rhythm, but then again why wouldn't he. Getting more comfortable, he gets rougher. Nearly pulling out all the way before thrusting back in, making sure he's going as deep as he can.
He pulls your leg up further, redirecting your hips, hitting you in a new spot. Your moans get louder and he quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.
"Be quiet," he kisses. "The window is open."
You completely forgot about that. The window right above the headboard of the bed was open, letting in a light breeze. You were wondering why you occasionally got a chill.
You whine under his hand, not able to stop moaning. "Th-then close it."
You grit your teeth as his hips only snap harder. You swear the sound of his hips rutting against you is louder than your moans.
He takes his hand off your mouth and kisses you instead, causing both of you to lose your breath quickly. Panting in each other's mouths.
You wrap your arms around him, leaving red streaks along his back. Your leg that was over this shoulder is now around his waist, keeping him close.
His fingers interlock with yours, holding them down into the mattress.
"You feel close, süße," his lips trail down to your neck. "Why don't I help with that."
"Wolfg-ahh!"
His fangs piece your skin, giving him the pleasure of your blood and giving you the pleasure of reaching your climax. He didn't seem to care about the window being open at that moment.
Your moans went on for as long as his fangs were in you. His hands squeeze yours, his movement suddenly gets faster, until he pushes himself as deep as he can go, filling you with cum.
You squeeze his hands back, buck your hips up, moaning with him.
Mozart licks the bite clean and sits up, licking a few drops of blood off his lips while looking at you.
Your chest heaves, and you whine when he pulls out of you.
You don't feel like making dinner now, but you don't want to be done with him yet.
When Mozart lays down next to you, you sit up, getting on his lap.
He looks up at you surprised. "What are you-"
"I don't want to be done just yet," you smirk, sitting yourself down on his cock
~~
Tag list~
@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth
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buildarocketboys · 2 days
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Some Team Castle shenanigans for @mygangtome day 2024. Written in an hour on my lunch break, unedited, Allan, Marian and Guy go out to the tavern, semi-crackish
"Allan," Marian hisses from the end of the corridor. "You need to help me sneak out of the castle."
Allan sighs and rolls his eyes. "You know I can't do that, Marian. Giz banned the Nightwatchman."
Marian huffs. "I wasn't going to sneak out to be the Nightwatchman."
Allan eyes her dubiously.
"Well, all right, maybe I was. But I just want to get out! Take me to a tavern or something, I don't care! I just need to get out of this damn castle."
Allan raises his eyebrows. He doesn't think he's ever heard Marian swear before. "All right," he says, hands on hips. "But I'll have to ask Giz for his permission. And you never know, he might want to come too."
"I don't care," says Marian. "I'll go to the tavern with the Sheriff if it'll get me out of here for five minutes!"
"Fine, I'll ask him," says Allan. "No promises, mind." He looks at her sceptically. "Have you even been to a tavern before?"
"I can hold my wine, thank you very much," Marian says, which means no.
Allan smirks. "We'll see," he says.
Gisborne is horrified at first.
"A tavern? Lady Marian?"
Allan pleads her case pretty well, especially since he's not quite sure he believes it himself. He's not convinced that Marian won't run off to the forest or start giving alms to the poor the minute Guy's back is turned.
He can see Guy starting to waver.
"Very well," he says eventually. "Under one condition."
"Yeah?" says Allan. "What's that?"
"I will accompany Lady Marian to the...tavern," he says, as if the word is an unpleasant bite of food.
"Yeah, great," says Allan. "I might head down too."
Guy looks strained. "Allan, you don't have to-"
"Yeah, but I want to. What, are you gonna ban me from going down the pub?"
Guy bears his teeth at him. "I should do." He sighs. "Fine. You may come."
"Didn't actually need your permission, but thanks Giz," Allan chirps, then leaves before Guy starts throwing things at him.
The company isn't exactly diverting to start with. Guy buys the first round of drinks, looking suspiciously over his shoulder at Marian and Allan the whole time. He sets them on the table and they sit in silence.
"So, Gisborne," Allan says. "How's the leather working out for you? Look still in?"
Marian hides an undignified snort of laughter in her hands. Guy looks at her sharply before turning to Allan. "It's comfortable," he says.
Marian raises her eyebrows. "Is it?"
"Yes, actually," Guy says, drawing himself up in a dignified manner. "And protective. Much less cumbersome than actual armour, but it does the job."
Marian looks surprised. "Well, I never knew that."
"Me neither," says Allan.
They lapse back into silence.
By the second round of drinks, however, everyone starts to loosen up. Allan plonks them on the table.
"Cheers, Giz, Maz," Allan says, raising his tankard, and neither of them tell him off for the nickname.
"What should we call you?" Marian says. "Al? Az?"
She lets out a snort and Guy joins her in laughter, to all of their surprises. 
"I'm gonna use that from now on," he says, gesturing towards Allan.
He sets his tankard down. "I shouldn't drink anymore, the Sheriff wants me up at the crack of dawn tomorrow."
"C'mon, live a little, Giz," Allan says.
"Yes, Guy, you need to loosen up," Marian says, bursting into giggles for no apparent reason. Allan had known she'd be a total lightweight.
Guy rolls his eyes and sighs, then drains half the tankard in one. Allan cheers while Marian laughs in delight, attempting to copy him and spilling half the pint down her dress.
"Oh drat!" she says.
Guy shakes his head fondly and offers her a handkerchief.
"Thanks Guy."
By the third round, both Marian and Guy are well and truly drunk, and Allan's well on his way to tipsy.
"Sure you don't wanna go home already?" Marian teases Guy.
"Nah," he says, taking a big gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Fuck the Sheriff."
Marian howls with laughter and Allan can't help but join her. People are starting to look in their direction, but Guy and Marian don't seem to notice.
"Fuck the Sheriff!" says Marian, raising her tankard and clinking it against Guy's, then Allan's. 
"To drinking!" says Allan.
"To ale!" says Guy.
"To friends," says Marian, catching them both in her little smile. Allan feels pleasantly numb, happy in the company of two people who have been enemies, allies and superiors to him, but who right now are friends.
"To friends," he repeats.
"To friends," Guy says. He's wearing an odd look on his face, one Allan can't quite read.
"On that note, I need to visit the privy," Marian says. "Where is it?"
"Outside." Allan gestures vaguely, noting the distasteful look on Marian's face as she gets up.
Once she's left, Gisborne rests a hand on his shoulder. Allan turns to him and is surprised to see his eyes filled with tears.
"Guy?" Allan asks tentatively.
"Allan," Guy says miserably. "Allan, what can I do to make her love me?"
Allan takes a deep breath. He should have known Gisborne would be a weepy drunk. "Well, she's your friend. That's a start, right?"
And then Guy is weeping into his chest. "Why won't she love me, Allan? I just want her to love me."
Allan pats the back of Guy's head awkwardly. "There, there," he says. Guy continues sobbing into his shoulder, but luckily doesn't say anything else.
"Allan, I can't walk straight," Marian says, tottering back to their table. Allan's almost surprised that she's come back - he'd half expected her to run off. 
Then she notices Guy weeping into Allan's shoulder. "Guy? What's wrong?"
Guy lets out another wracking sob and doesn't answer, which Allan is secretly grateful for. He came out for a relaxing night of drinking - the last thing he needs is for Marian and Guy to have it out here and now.
"He's just a bit drunk," Allan says, answering for him. "C'mon, help me get him back to the castle. We don't want the Sheriff to see him like this."
Marian nods, trying to look more sober than she is, and helps Allan get Guy up.
"Not the Sheriff, no, no, nooo," he moans. "Allan, you can't let the Sheriff see me like this, OK?"
"On it, boss," Allan says. Marian sniggers.
"Or Marian," Guy says. "She can't see me like this."
"Um," says Marian, her arm already around his shoulders.
"ALLAN!" Guy yells, giving him an earful about letting Marian near him in this state as they wrangle him out of the tavern.
"Jeez, a little gratitude would be nice," he says as Guy lapses into tears again.
They manage to make it back to the castle without being spotted. Marian helps Allan lay Guy down on the bed.
"Well," she says, looking awkward (and a lot more sober than she was half an hour ago). "Goodnight Allan."
"G'night Marian," Allan says.
"Goodnight, Guy," she calls, but Guy doesn't respond.
"Don't worry," Allan says confidently. "He'll have forgotten this by the morning."
"I hope so," says Marian. She smiles. "Thank you for arranging tonight," she says. "I had a good time."
Then she's gone. Allan is astonished. She really did just want to go out and spend time with them.
Maybe that'll be a comfort to Guy later, he thinks, as he helps the man undress and get into bed.
"Stay," Guy begs as Allan is about to head for the door. He pauses.
"Are- are you sure?" he says. "I don't want you to wake up tomorrow morning screaming like a little girl about me being in your bed."
Guy snorts, the tears apparently over for now. "It'd take a lot more for you to make me scream, Allan."
Allan wonders if he realises how dirty that sounds.
Guy sighs. "I need you to wake me up in time to meet with the Sheriff," he says. "So I need you to stay. That's all."
"That's all," Allan repeats.
"Yes." Guy eyes him narrowly, then pulls back the covers. "Get in."
Trying not to smirk, Allan gets into bed next to Guy. "You had better not throw up on me, Giz, that's all I'm saying. Otherwise, you and me are through."
Allan expects some kind of response to that, an elbow in the ribs at the very least. He twists round to look at Guy and realises he's fallen asleep, gently snoring, pressed up against Allan.
Allan sighs and resigns himself for a restless night.
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ghouljams · 6 months
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Happy Halloween!! Die attempts to confront Ghost about his issues, Ghost doesn't respond well.
Tags: Ghost x f!oc/reader, angst, vague references to Ghost's canon backstory, hurt no comfort, Ghost is an asshole who can't communicate
Ghost doesn't even glare at you when he opens the door. Glaring you could handle, at least it would be a show of his feelings. No, the gaze he levels you with is cold indifference. You sit on his bed, all but begging for him to look at you with something other than disgust.
"Figures you'd be here," he grunts looking away to pull off his gloves.
"You're room?" You ask, eager for any bone he'll throw you.
"My bed," his tone is so even and cruel you wince.
"I thought we could talk," you try. Ghost stays silent, his focus on his nightly routine. He sets his gloves on his dresser, strips his shirt over his head, careful to keep his balaclava in place. You try to keep out of the rolling tide of his emotions. Disgust rears its ugly head too often for your comfort. Although you can't tell who it's directed at. If you weren't here you wonder if it would still point its wretched finger at Ghost. "Maybe I should start with an apology." You mumble. Ghost snaps the top drawer closed, presses his fists to the top and leans against it.
"You don’t even know what you’re apologizin’ for," he spits, you flinch. You don't know how to respond to that, what to say or how to say it. You don't have the words for the ache in your chest that his words conjure. He swallows, you feel his mind settle on something like pulling the brakes on a speeding train. Everything screeches to a halt, and piles in on itself. You'd be crushed under that weight, you don't know how Ghost can stand it. "Why couldn't we stay strangers," it's a question, but it isn't really. He isn't looking for an answer.
"I don't-" you don't understand. Ghost turns to look over his shoulder at you and you catch the spark of his glare, the cool heat that shoots through you.
“Least you can admit it,” He grumbles.
“If you would just talk to me,” You plead. Ghost slams his hands on the top of the dresser and you flinch. He clenches his fists tighter, another roll of disgust hitting him. Hitting him. It’s not you that he’s disgusted with, it’s himself. His anger, his hurt, his want to hurt you.
"Because everything has to be done your way.” He pushes his shoulders down, trying to keep the tension in his figure from showing. He’s wound so tight you’re worried he might break. “You couldn't just leave well enough- God, you can't leave me alone." You almost wish he were yelling at you, that it wasn't the cool even tone he always carries tearing you down. He yelled for Soap. Why won't he yell at you?
"I can't, I'm- the contract doesn't have a dismissal clause, there's no precedent-"
"So every fucker that gets one of you is satisfied with it? Don't believe that," he ticks his head to the side, clicks his tongue, "Give a man a brag rag that says 'e's a monster, and you lot think 'e's happy with it?"
"It's not-"
"How'd you tally it up? Hm?" Ghost turns towards you, "How’d you decide I couldn’t-” He looks away again. Couldn’t what? There’s nothing in your arsenal Ghost couldn’t use, no part of you that isn’t made to complement him. 
"I'm a reward," you press. He looks at you again, eyes narrowing. You squeeze your hands into fists, dig your nails into your palms. You can smell blood, feel the sharp break of your skin. 
"A reward. You think just because you give a dog a pretty bone it doesn't know it's gettin' kicked?"
You look away, you can't hold his gaze when he looks at you like that. A dog with a bone. His gaze is hot, his disgust pointed inward. He doesn't want to want you Iike he does. He wants you though. There’s a softness to it, an unease, a resentment. Another voice in his head that barks at him, reminds him of what he is. It feels older, darker. You don’t like it.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” you try, you feel small, a bad sort of small. You don’t like this part of you, the human part, the cursed blood your mother gave you.
“No, you want me to hurt you,” He snarks, his sarcasm more biting than his teeth ever could be. Your ribs tighten around your lungs, squeezing them closer together until you can't feel them expand anymore.
“I don’t,” you mumble. Your throat hurts, scratches uncomfortably, and your eyes itch in a strange way. 
“Wha’s that? Can’t hear you, love.” Ghost’s tone is mocking, he leans comfortably against his dresser. Smug, but not pleased with himself. You can feel it. He’s making a show of it, but it still hurts. Hurts in a way you’re not used to, but perhaps starting to be.
“I don’t!” You yell at him, sob at him. You press your hands against your face, unsure if it’s wetness from the blood or the new tears rolling down your cheeks. “Why don’t you like me?” You cry, pulling your knees up to your chest, “Why? I’m good, I can be good! I can be good, I promise." You feel your fingers trembling, your voice getting softer, more watery, “I can be quiet, you won’t even notice me, please.-" you draw in a breath, "-Please don’t hurt me.”
Simon’s horror slices through you like a knife. But it’s fine. You can't hold form anymore, you don’t have to feel it when you melt into the shadows. You don’t really have to feel much of anything, not like this. This is good.
“Die?” Simon calls, his fingers pressing against his blankets where you'd been, his eyes darting around the dim room. It’s ok, you can be good. Your weight leaves his chest, and a new one settles in its place, as familiar and dangerous as coming home.
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nothing-real-here · 9 months
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I literally read a huge article about poliomyelitis because it is most likely Viktor's disease and now I am so sad because I can imagine all suffering that he experienced.
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anaalnathrakhs · 25 days
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btw my mom said it. she said it to me looking me in the eyes. i told her about how difficult it was for me to get through those family reunions, and she admitted it was very important to her, important enough that she was just going to do it anyway.
#i know there are compromises out there#and i'm not going to live w them my whole life so i'll be out fairly soon all things considered#and i'm trying to be understanding when people's priorities aren't the same as mine#but i uh. would be lying if i said it doesn't hurt a little wittle bit.#i'm gonna keep handling it because i've been an asshole to my parents for long enough#i largely owe them that. cooperating and spending time with them and engaging in what matters to them.#but then she's says things like ''but whenever you move out you'll still be part of the family and invited if you want uwu''#it's just ?????? okay thanks ???? perhaps you could also try seeing things from my point of view perhaps????#it's all circling back to that. they have a very weird way to ''help'' me#throwback to them trying to cure my depression with amusement parks#when i would have liked a little less of that and a little more help and understanding#it feels like they're trying to put bandaids on a cancer#''you don't ask for help'' okay no help is coming. i am not being helped.#the system can't help me cause there's no damn beds no damn professionals no damn time to help everyone#the people around me can't help me because it's not their job or within their wheelhouse to help me#and they've got their own shit to deal with#on that note#i was discussing stuff with my mom#and i mentionned it was indeed pretty difficult to manage your time when you had to deal with school and friends and your parents#and she was like ''deal with your parents???? what do you have to deal with????''#oh i don't KNOW maybe that i'm officially an associate of my dad and i have to help out w events and some accounting#or maybe i have to pay back the fucking years i spent being an ungrateful child now i do everything you expect me to and it's exhausting#maybe that you constantly remind me i am living in YOUR house by touching my shit instead of letting me deal with shit at my own pace#maybe the fact that despite everything i care about you and i want us to have a good relationship and that takes WORK and i'm exhausted#maybe the fact that you keep giving me advice that is unproductive misguided misunderstanding etc etc#and cold comfort after you did something you knew to be difficult for me#how you keep encouraging shit that i don't want and am unhappy with because it's the ''normal'' way#how you raised me from childhood to be an empty shell in a family of empty shells#broadcasting my misery#vent
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savage-rhi · 11 months
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🫂😪
#hey I've been on a bit of a hiatus with writing and other projects#answering this cause ive had some anons asking for updates on drabble requests#leaving a toxic job that I endured for a year#getting a new job and new enviornment#finding out I had a whole ass other family I didn't know existed#and trying to keep up with the cost of living has taken a huge toll#on my mental health and wellbeing#to the point where I had to take time off my new job and go on a peer respite#i got back the other day and I'm doing better#but my mental health isn't 100%#and my chronic pain has been fluctuating a lot cause of stress#i know i don't owe anyone details about what i go through#but i like being transparent#and this makes it easier than answering 6-10 anons asking me for an update#i am not sure when im gonna fulfill drabble requests but they'll come when they come#and you can keep sending in stuff i dont mind it at all#just know i gotta take care of me right now#and I'll be slower answering stuff#take care of your mental health and bodies the best you can#im always rooting for ya#and to end on a good note#i got accepted into a masters program for clinical counseling and therapy#only 25 people could get in and somehow i got it#idk how im gonna get financial aid for it but im gonna try#im excited and nervous#i might have more vo stuff coming too idk yet but im trying not to do too much at once#if yall could do me a solid and drop something cool in the comments and let me know how your life is going id love that#especially if you got good news to share#i could use more of that right now#love you guys and here's a hug and a biscuit from me
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tardis--dreams · 22 hours
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Some of those doctors make hating oat milk their entire personality. I hate them. Cannot pretend to find them funny or like i give a shit. Fucking pretentious assholes
#also my colleague (the girl i had my shift with) is the exact opposite of me in all aspects. asked me if I'd ever worked in customer service#because i couldn't care less about being fake friendly to assholes and don't care if they like the service or not#like bitch those people don't have any other choice but drink our fucking coffee it's not like I'm competing with anyone#or like they pay us in any way. i get paid for doing the dumb work i have to do not for stroking some dumb ass doctors' egos#they come out of their rooms once an hour to get coffee and we have the cups on the table and i wouldn't even Think of#HANDING them the cups and smiling sweetly at them and asking 'coffee? tea?? :))'#I'll just assume these grown adults will get their stupid coffee or tea when they want some. it's not like they don't know where it is#(and i AM friendly and smile when someone is coming in our direction but why the fuck do you need to get so disgustingly friendly with them#if someone held up a cup asking if i.want some coffee I'd leave immediately even if i came just for coffee. it's creepy)#anyway. she's nice. I'm not.#there's normal people who will get their coffee and maybe ask if the milk in the little jug is cow milk to which I'll happily reply 'yes#:)'. then there's the other people who see the oat milk and make it clear they are the most insufferable people on the planet#(and i pity their patients so much. not much to choose from i guess but if i had that as a doctor I'd happily just die)#like everyone who took oatmilk could do it without making a fuss about the cow milk on the table. the cow milk lovers could never#'the oat milk is in front of the actual milk. this is unacceptable. i hate such healthy bullshit' lol okay#'OAT milk?? I'll leave this to the horses! THANK GOD you have actual milk!'#my favorite was the one who really took personal offense with its sheer presence. as if it had killed half of his patients lmao#'we had 50 patients with xyz problem. ALL of them drink oat milk. they cannot see the connection. it's really unhealthy'#at this point i just said i didn't care and stopped paying attention and he started complaining to his doctor colleague about how#oat milk is advertised to be healthy and how it's actually the opposite and i just find that very funny compared to the first comment#from that one guy who doesn't like such healthy bullshit. you guys need to find a consensus on the oatmilk issue i think. no one takes you#seriously if you contradict yourself like this. also i couldn't care less about the healthiness of the milk alternative of my choice. bitch.#next week I'll end up killing someone. i hope they all die from their cow milk. (but not the ones who took cow milk and didn't say anything#about the oat milk. they can continue living as they didn't annoy me)#void screams#some of these doctors were actually quite nice (most of them even). one even brought an applicant to us telling her to get some coffee#(which we are not allowed to give to applicants. but i don't care. I'd rather they get something than some of the asshole jury members#who hate oat milk (which is not the issue. the issue is them making it everybody else's issue that they don't like oat milk))
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lucyvaleheart · 25 days
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#i need to stop doing this. but i just. i.....#.....I'll probably fall asleep minutes after i post this#so if you message me about it and i don't reply that's why#but i just#............fuck I'm trying so hard#it doesn't seem to matter#no matter how much i get done or accomplish it's never enough I'm always ten steps behind where i need to be to even reach net zero#not even the point of making progress. the point where i can so much as rest#I'm so tired. im so tired. nothing i think of works nothing i try is ever the right thing#i know from the outside looking in i may not seem like a burden i may even seem like an uplifting person to be around#but I'm a burden.#i am. I'm not self deprecating. it's a fact. it's just a fact.#as i am now i am a resource sink and i need too much help and i can't really be independent#and yet i don't really have a choice#so at present whoever i live with (currently my husband) gets stuck taking care of me because i just fall short in so many ways#.....i can't do anything right#nothing i do seems to matter. i can't.... i can't do anything#fuck#I'm just repeating myself I'm almost certain but#...............why can't i have a decent idea for once#all this confidence and i just keep fucking up anyway#worked so hard on being confident in myself that i don't match up to my own expectations now#i#.............fuck#everything hurts so badly#I'm so tired#....I'm so tired#....................if anyone happens to live in Minnesota and wants to just. come shoot me dead hit me up#im too much of a coward to do it myself
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khalesci · 2 months
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I will never accept any ending in which dany has to die "for the good of the world", whether it's being treated like a rabid dog in the show (gross) or if she has to somehow sacrifice or martyr herself to stop the Others or whatever, idc I hate that. Like I've heard it said before and I completely agree that there's something Weird and Icky about the idea that Daenerys *has* to die to be a hero but no one ever says that about any of the other main characters? Like I think about the subset of people (*cough*cis white men*cough*) in the fandom who *insist* that Stannis is really [redacted] somehow and they never say that he should sacrifice himself for the sake of the world. When the hero is a man, it's a "subversion" for them to die for the sake of tragedy, but when it's a woman, suddenly she HAS to die because "it's expected" and "the natural conclusion to her arc" like WHAT???? get the fuck out of here
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