#Zero drip Zero personality... must I go on...

[misogyny]

TES fans who are mainly into Skyrim are, I feel, living in a completely different world than I. At minimum I probably have around some 300 hours in the game over the years, and even still, I can not remember most of the NPCs I see Skyrim fans post about. Not a joking exaggeration, either. I think the majority of characters all wearing the same outfits/having the same hairstyles/voice actors really did not do a lot to differentiate most of them in my mind.

[fae-of-fiction]

A thirst about Kaiser locked in the video room, rewatching the same images again and again? ;)

✦ — 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✦ — 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (18+ only) ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

✦ — psst, hey, hey. come closer for just a sec — *kisses your brain* this. THIS. this is brilliant 🫡🙌🏻🙏 thank you so much!!! i had waaaaaay too much fun writing this 🫣

✦ — 1k words

✦ — fem!reader, fembodied!reader, explicit sexual content, solo male masturbation, creep!kaiser, perv!kaiser, elements of non-con (hidden cameras), voyeurism (i feel like this could fall under that), overstimulation(?), obsessed!kaiser, sexual fantasies, language, allusions to shy!reader, author is not confident in her smut skills (it may not be the best), my writing :,)

note: kaiser refers to reader as meine rose/meine schöne rose, which means “my rose” and “my beautiful rose” respectively (i used a multitude of translation apps to hopefully make sure the translation is right, but as i’m not a native german speaker i can’t say for certain that it’s correct; i’m so sorry if i butchered it! 🙏)

kaiser knew he was abusing a system that he shouldn’t even have knowledge of — but he simply couldn’t control himself.

the instant ness had clued him in on that little piece of information about the camera system, kaiser’s mind shifted straight to you; cute, quiet, shy little you. and ness, bless his soul, didn’t question kaiser even once when he requested (demanded) that ness find a way to hack into the secondary cameras hidden within the personal rooms of the facility.

kaiser wasn’t sure why jinpachi ego had felt the need to install such a security system, but he was deeply thankful for it.

because there would be no other way kaiser could ever witness this beautiful sight over and over again — you laid out across your bed, legs spread and fingers working over time plunging into your sloppy little cunt.

slick squelches and soft moans echoed through the earphones and traveled straight to kaiser’s dick, which was already hard and leaking despite only having started the recording less than a minute ago.

that was just the visceral effect you had on him; you could brick him up instantly with just a single glance in his direction.

and seeing you like this — oh, the effect was catastrophic. kaiser swears his dick has never been harder before, that he’s never felt so turned on and sensitive, ceach stroke of his hand down the shaft electrifying and borderline overwhelming — and when he ran the pad of his thumb along the tip to collect the dripping pre his whole body nearly convulsed.

it was amazing, satisfying, and yet so, so torturous. because at the moment, all kaiser could do was stare at your pretty cunt swallowing your fingers and imagine how it would feel for those velvet walls to be closing around his cock instead.

and suddenly, his hand just didn’t feel good enough anymore — kaiser imagined you must have felt the same way about your fingers, given the scrunch of your eyebrows and how desperate your movements were; it just wasn’t enough. you clearly needed something longer and thicker to fill you up.

and kaiser could do that for you — oh, how he would make you feel so good. he’d slide his cock in nice and slow so could you could feel him inch for inch, so you could enjoy that satisfying stretch it’d give your tight little pussy. he’d fuck into you recklessly in the same way you’re doing with your fingers while whispering sweet little nothings in your ear just to feel your walls flutter around him.

“so good, meine schöne rose,” kaiser whispered as he tightened his fingers around his cock, eyes zeroed in on your fingers sliding into that sweet nirvana between your legs. for a moment, kaiser could almost convince himself that he was buried inside your tight little pussy and not his own hand. “keep going. that’s it.”

kaiser’s breathing was quickly laboring, his abdomen twitching and tightening with every quick stroke of his hand. your soft moans and whimpers spurred that heat within his gut, and if he closed his eyes and focused, kaiser could feel your plump lips against his ear, honeyed voice begging him to fuck harder, to fuck you completely stupid, until all you could think about was his cock —

kaiser’s eyes snapped open when his ears were graced with a particularly loud moan from the earphones, and that liquid heat in his gut ramped up to a boiling point at the sight he was greeted with.

your other hand had abandoned its stationary place on your stomach and was now rubbing fast circles against your pretty clit in time with your thrusting fingers, and your whole body was trembling from the new stimulus. kaiser had seen this enough times to know exactly what was soon to come.

“oh, sweet girl.” kaiser murmured reverently, chest fluttering and hand picking up speed around his cock. “so fuckin’ pretty like that.”

and you were — you were so fucking breathtaking. eyes slipped shut and plump lips parted to release those sweet, sultry moans; fingers sliding into the prettiest folds and rubbing against the cutest clit; that perfect body trembling and shaking.

it was a vision of pure erotic perfection that was etched permanently into kaiser’s mind; a vision that he craves to see in person while he ravages you with his cock.

“c’mon, meine rose. you’re so close.” kaiser cooed, hand jacking his cock so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache — but there was no way he was going to slow down, not when you were both so close, hanging onto the precipice of pure rupture. his gut clenched almost painfully and his balls twitched, signaling the fast approach of his climax.

“i’m gonna cum, sweet girl. mmh — fuck, ah — you’re gonna make me cum — i’m coming —”

kaiser had to bring his other hand up and clamp his teeth around it to muffle the sounds that bubbled up in his throat. all it took was three more strokes and he was exploding, warm, sticky ropes shooting all the way up to his chest. kaiser couldn’t even control the moans that slipped out, nor could he control the way his hips jerked up to fuck his cock into his tight fist as he rode out his orgasm, eyes glued to the screen in front of him.

your escalating moans seemed to add even more fuel to the fire, stretching out kaiser’s orgasm to the point that his cock became almost unbearably sensitive — but he kept pumping his fist slowly, keeping his cock alive as he reached forward with a shaky hand to restart the video.

“just once more, meine schöne rose. make me cum one more time.”

i just want to say thank you once again for this brilliant thirst, and thank you to everyone who took the time to read it! it means so much to me!! <333

[ink-and-hedera]

Acquaintance

"Brewed in academia, we sip knowledge, each cup filled with life's realities. In the shadow of ancient trees and hills, we find comfort, learning to endure our shared existence. Like an over-roasted coffee, life blends bitterness with inexplicable charm."

My go-to is black coffee - drip when I'm in a rush, or filter when my favorite barista is working at the coffee shop near the dormitory. The other barista over-roasts the coffee beans and brews it without passion. I'd rather skip coffee altogether than face that disappointment in a small white cup.

You can always tell when a person loves what they do.

I'd love to say that I wake up to the first rays of the sun sneaking into our room through the solitary window, but the truth is we live in the shadow of a hill and old trees. It's unusual, given that we're in the center of Kyiv, but neither my roommates nor I complain. In the summer, the shade provides welcome coolness.

Our room, a cramped 10 square meters, houses four of us. There's no such thing as privacy here. It's not a life, but a fairy tale. But you get used to it. The options are limited: a) find a third job, neglect studies, and rent an apartment; b) sell a kidney; c) endure.

Since I don't have a spare kidney, and a day only has 24 hours - the first two options are out. As for the third - I'm a born endurer.

Back to the room and its inhabitants. To protect privacy, I've changed the names, ages, appearances, and some biographical details. Girls, if you're reading this, know that I love you. Probably.

We're four girls of different ages, tastes, and views. Essentially, we're strangers forced by circumstances to share a roof. In such a situation, you must find common ground. Living together requires rules and responsibility sharing, and quarrels over household matters are inevitable. Sometimes, someone might eat your dinner, the one you've fantasized about all day during tedious lectures. Sometimes, you spend two hours deciding who should pay for the internet and who should take out the trash.

It's like a family.

“Alaska, are you busy?”

A friend messages me while I'm sitting in class, rubbing my forehead. My students are in an anti-bullying lecture, so I'm doing my own thing. Teaching in college at 22 while studying for a master's? It’s a cruel joke. Don't get me wrong, I love my students. But the administration, colleagues, standards from the ministry, and bureaucracy that has me rewriting the curriculum for the sixth time...

I sigh heavily and return to the message.

“Yes,” I answer, though I'm not really bothered. I have at least 20 free minutes.

“Come outside.”

Ugh.

“Why did you even ask then?” I text back, irritated.

“Just come, grumpy.”

I sigh again, shut off my work laptop, and leave everything in the office. I put on a black trench coat with a packet of two remaining cigarettes, a lighter, and keys in the pocket.

"I hope you didn't call me just because you're bored. I have zero desire to climb back to the 4th floor," I say as I exit the building. The cold autumn wind hits me as I descend the stone stairs of the old building.

Oliver is sitting on a bench next to an abstract statue. He waves as I approach. We study Computer Science together at the university, though we don't fit the programmer stereotype.

Oliver, half a head taller than me, has red hair and freckles covering his nose and cheeks. He might seem cute to some, but his snarky sarcasm ruins that image.

"And I missed you too, grumpy. Let's grab a coffee," he says as I stare at him in disbelief. "You're a jerk. Couldn't you just come to me? I'm gonna die climbing back to the classroom."

"I care about your health. Maybe you'll finally quit smoking."

"Shut up," I snap, though I still follow him through the green gates marking the college territory. "So, what brings you here?"

"Had some business around, decided to stop by, check on our grumpy," Oliver says, smirking.

"And who told you I'm at work, and not in the dormitory or elsewhere?"

"Mary. She's worried because you've been acting strange lately," he says as we reach a coffee shop.

The coffee shop is spacious and not crowded - it's the middle of a workday. The interior is green and white, and I momentarily drift away from the conversation, observing every detail of the décor.

The spacious café is cozy and calm, as if immersed in a peaceful oasis in the middle of the city, where time meditates to the rhythm of coffee drops. Modernity intertwines with elegance in every detail. The walls, made of fresh white brick and adorned with green accents, seem to reflect the trends of nature that seep into the modern urban landscape.

Filling the space, the soft light shimmers from stylish pendant lamps with glass shades, creating an atmosphere of tenderness and tranquility. Tables, made of glass panels and metal legs, embody the spirit of innovation and refinement. Interwoven green and white accents add whimsy and refresh the space, creating a sense of lightness and harmony.

Meanwhile, the café does not lose its functionality. Comfortable chairs with soft cushions invite you to relax and enjoy the aromatic drinks brewed in copper coffee makers on the kitchen windowsill. The taste notes of coffee, complemented by the delicate aromas of freshly baked pastries, awaken all your senses, prompting instant relaxation and rest.

Thanks to its refined design and sophisticated approach to decor, the café in green and white color becomes not just a place where you can enjoy the taste of coffee, but also a true masterpiece of modern urban life, inviting you to discover new horizons of taste and aesthetics.

“Are you even listening to me?” Oliver asks, and I just stare at him, momentarily forgetting that I'm not alone here. “I asked what coffee you'll have.”

“Yes, sorry. Americano,” I finally respond. He smiles again and turns back to the barista, while I decide where we should sit.

My gaze lands on a table by the window, and I head there to claim it.

After a few minutes, Oliver joins me, holding two sandwiches. I look at him with a silent question in my eyes.

“You clearly haven't eaten anything,” he says as if he knows me like the back of his hand.

Indeed, I haven't eaten because I overslept three damn alarms and ran to work as if I had been scalded.

“Thank you,” I say gratefully and unfold the bag. The smell of food makes my stomach somersault, and just from that, I let out a pleased “mmm…”

“God, don't rush. When was the last time you ate properly? You're losing your mind with your work. Mary said you were acting strange, but I think I see that the reason for it is your workaholism,” Oliver says, taking a sip of his cappuccino, which the barista has just brought.

“Just... a lot of work,” I say, just having chewed my long-awaited food. “Mary worries in vain.”

“I think she is doing the right thing worrying. I, of course, call you a workaholic, but that doesn't mean you should actually become one, for God's sake,” he says, looking straight at me and exhales with disappointment. “Anyway, we'll talk about this later. Anyway, I came with a proposition.”

I stop eating and look at him in surprise.

“I won't marry you,” I say, with a note of sarcasm, joking.

“Hey! Actually, I'm a great catch,” he adds, laughing openly. “But no, you're wrong. Not that proposition. I know a guy who really wants to open a private educational institution. Somewhere in the summer. The building is great, and so are the ideas and programs. They promise a room, food, and decent salary..." he says, and I look at him with irritation.

“Oliver, you must be joking? I dream of escaping this teaching pit, and you're offering me to dive deeper into it... sorry, frankly, this shit? You know how I'm counting down the days until the end of the contract,” I add, exhaling.

“Alaska, wait and don't get heated. I know, I know, you're planning to go into the gaming industry. And yes, I know how much you like teaching. But this is a really cool opportunity. At least temporarily, until you finish your master's degree. You've been needing to move out of the dorm for a long time, get away from all the problems and start... living. Come on, where else will you find a job with such conditions? And there's a young team there. Lots of opportunities. You'll be able to balance everything appropriately and finally take care of your health.” Oliver says with such determination, trying to convince me. “You don't have to answer right now. Just think about it. It's a good start... Considering... events. Don't refuse right away.”

I take a sip of my Americano.

Damn.

The beans are over-roasted again.

[sooniessoulmate]

𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚝 ~ 𝚌𝚑.𝟸 ~ 𝚒𝚗𝚒 & 𝚓𝚘𝟷 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚘 : 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛

𝚌𝚑.𝟷 | 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚌𝚑.𝟹

Shogo exits the hospital in a state of pure rage. You were correct with everything that you said about him and your father. Shogo has been groomed from a very young age to take over the family business. He had an extremely close relationship with his father. He loved and admired him and strived to be a man that would make his dad proud. That day will never come though, his father is no longer here to be proud of anything that Shogo accomplishes and that is why THEY must pay.

Masaya is hanging around the INI’s clubhouse with a few of the other members. He’s sharpening his beloved pocket knife. She’s diamond encrusted with a skull engraved on the blade. His phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. He’s tempted to ignore the call, afterall sharpening Christine is a priority and one of the few pleasures that Masaya allows himself to indulge in. 

His phone continues to vibrate, causing massive irritation to Masaya’s mood which ultimately will mess with the lecherous foreplay between him and Christine. He lightly places Christine onto the table in front of him, slamming his hand onto the hardwood, next to his knife out of pure frustration of being interrupted, then removes his cell phone out of his pocket. All that frustration is immediately erased once he sees that his favorite person, Shogo, is the one who is the cause of the interruption.

He places the phone to his ear, “yes sir,” he says.

“I need you,” Shogo states, coldly with zero emotion in his voice. “He’s gone. Meet me at Hibiya Koen in fifteen minutes. We have some matters to attend to.”

Before Masaya can respond, Shogo disconnects the call. He doesn’t need to hear the response to know that his orders will be followed without question, especially from his most loyal, unhinged soldier. 

Masaya stands up, gently folding Christine and placing her inside of her case connected to his belt loop. He walks over to a cabinet against the wall. “YEAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” he yells as he repeatedly starts slamming his own head against the wall until blood starts to drip down his face. “DADDY FUCKING NEEDS ME!! LETS GET IT ELEANOR!!!” 

He opens the cabinet and removes his other most beloved girl, Eleanor. She is a wooden Louisville slugger that has been carved with skulls and crossbones and spray painted black. She has leather wrapped around the base to enable proper gripping and at the tip she is decorated with blood stained barbed wire. She is always dressed to impress and is ready for some action.

Masaya runs his tongue on the barbed wire as his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Mmmmm Elaenor, you just get sexier everytime I see you,” he announces, walking towards the door. The other members watch as he leaves without asking any questions, after all this isn’t necessarily odd behavior for Masaya.

You slowly walk out of your father’s room, tears streaming down your cheeks. You make your way out of the hospital, stunned to see Shogo has left without you. You haven’t been in Tokyo for over ten years and you have absolutely no idea how to get home. You take your phone out of your pocket, calling your brother in a panic but of course he doesn’t answer the call. 

You look around, unsure where to go, deciding to head north. You decide to find a decent looking restaurant to sit in until you’re able to reach Shogo. As you walk down the street, thunder sounds out from the heavens above, adding to the already outstanding day. You pick up the pace when you start to feel droplets of water hitting your skin. You turn the corner, noticing an establishment that looks rather dignified.

Before entering the restaurant you attempt to call your brother again with the same results when another idea pops into your head. You scroll through your contacts, landing on Ruki’s name, pressing call before you have the chance to change your mind.

“Hello,” Ruki says into the phone, answering your call after only one ring.

“Hey,” you say with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry to do this but I’m kind of stranded and I was wondering…”

“Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m getting ready to walk into some restaurant called ‘Fengfan’s’,” you say as your voice cracks.

“I’ll be right there,” he says. “But please be careful, I’ve heard of some less than savory things happening in there before.”

“Should I go somewhere else?” you ask, looking around but not seeing any other restaurant in close enough vicinity.

“No, it won’t take me long to get there. I’ll see you soon oh and I’m glad you thought to call me,” Ruki announces before disconnecting the call.

“Fengfan’s,” you say to yourself as you walk inside, only moments before the skies open up and releases a torrential downpour.

Most of the tables are occupied by what appears to be happy couples but only two stools were taken at the bar. You walk over and sit down on a stool and force a smile once the bartender notices you.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender asks.

“Yea can I get a double Nikka Yoichi neat please,” you sigh, trying to wipe your tears subtly, hoping no one is paying attention.

“A whiskey drinker,” one of the men says who is only sitting a few seats away from you.

“Yea,” you nod, trying not to pay him too much attention, afterall Ruki did give you fair warning and he has no reason to lie to you.

“And you seem to have some expensive taste,” he continues on. You don’t want to be rude so you look at the man who is now facing you entirely with his back turned to his friend and smile.

The two men didn’t strike you as the types who would normally be friends outside of a bar. The one speaking to you is shorter with shoulder length black hair. He has an inviting smile, warm eyes, and an air to him that he thinks that he is the most important person in any room. The other man sits quiet, he appears to be observing and taking in all of the activity going on in the room. He has short, bright red hair, a shade that only a man with a certain level of confidence could pull off but he gave no signs that he is friendly or has any desire to be bothered.

“Are you having a rough day, sweets,” the man asks as he moves over to the empty stool next to you.

“You can say that,” you sigh, feeling the tears starting to form in your eyes again. You fight the urge to cry though, you don’t need to be vulnerable in a place like this and around men like these.

“A pretty girl like you should never be brought to tears,” the man smiles. “Now why don’t you tell ole Jin here what he can do to make you feel a little better?”

“Ummm,” you hesitate, not fully knowing the proper thing to say.

“I know, how bout you let me buy you a few rounds of drinks, sweets,” he offers. “I bet that will help cheer you up a little.”

“Umm I don’t know,” you say, playing with the napkin that the bartender set down to put your drink on once it's served. “I don’t think I’m going to be here for too much longer, my friend is coming to pick me up.”

“Is it your boyfriend?” Jin asks bluntly.

“No,” you gasp, shocked by his sudden question.

“That’s wonderful news,” Jin smiles, as the bartender sits your drink down. “Put her tab on mine.”

“No no, that’s not necessary,” you argue, only to be ignored by the bartender. You sigh and look at the man next to you, “thank you.”

“No thank you,” Jin smiles brightly. “It’s not every day that I get the opportunity to speak with a woman with looks that would put any model to shame. Oh I’m Jin by the way but my friends call me MJ.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Jin,” you say, drinking the entire contents of your glass in one gulp. 

“So do you have a name or can I just call you mine,” he winks, signaling for the bartender to get you another drink. This time the bartender returns with your drink in record time. You notice the difference in service but don’t question it. Afterall, you will never see any of these men again after Ruki gets here and saves you from your nightmare.

“No please don’t call me that,” you say, chugging the second drink that is served to you.

“Ok sweets, I like a challenge,” Jin smirks, as the bartender delivers another drink in front of you. “It seems to me like you might be trying to get a little tipsy.”

“No, you’re wrong on that,” you argue, chugging the next drink. You are starting to feel the whiskey though but the pain from losing your father is a little numbed so it’s a win win.

“I don’t know,” Jin smirks, “I think you are thinking of some less than pure acts you would like to do with me and you’re using the liquor so you don’t have to feel bad for standing up your friend.”

Before you have time to respond, Ruki enters the restaurant, walking over to you. “There you are, Y/N,” he says, placing his arm around your shoulder while glaring at Jin. “Are you ok?”

“Oh hi ya Ruki,” you smile, liking the sensation you are feeling from him simply touching your shoulders.

“Look here a minute, boy,” Jin orders. “You look familiar, do I know you?”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Ruki denies, helping you stand up.

“Are you sure?” Jin asks. “I usually never forget a face.”

You turn to face Jin, “thank you for the drinks, sir. I hope you have a wonderful evening.”

“Anytime sweets,” Jin smiles. “You can usually find me here if you ever decide to go through with those evasive thoughts of yours.”

You don’t respond as Ruki leads you out of the restaurant and over to his black BMW. He opens the door for you to sit inside, closes it and walks around getting into the driver's side.

Masaya walks around Hibiya Koen looking for Shogo with the dried blood still on his face. “You look worse than me,” Shogo announces walking up to him. 

“What do you mean?” Masaya asks with wide eyes, reaching over to touch Shogo’s arm. 

“The fucking blood on your face,” Shogo laughs

“Well look at Eleanor,” Masaya orders, holding his beloved bat up in front of the man’s face. “She has blood on her so we wanted to match. It’s what couples do.”

“I’ll never understand you,” Shogo laughs, looking at Masaya who is staring at his bat while running his finger up the side while biting his lower lip. “Alright enough fucking around, it’s time to get her real bloody.”

“Fuck yea it is!!!!” Masaya yells, punching himself in the head. His breathing starts to get more intense when he asks “who is Eleanor ending?”

“We’re not ending anyone yet,” Shogo snarls. “I want to let those mother fuckers know what's coming their way.”

𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚟 | 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝

[the12thnightproject]

No Context WIP Tag Game!

Rules: If you’re tagged, make a new post and share 1-2 (a few) sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context -- Let your followers guess!

I was tagged by @aquagirl1978 and since I actually have WIPs this time around, I figured I would go for it.

(This is very rough first draft stuff in both cases).

Kenshin simply looked Shohime over in what appeared to be cold indifference. But to give the kid credit - she had to be worried about the personality of her future husband and Kenshin's icy expression couldn't have helped matters. But she kept her head held high and faced him with pride.

"Fine," he said at last, then turned around and stalked back into the castle.

"Lord Kenshin means to say that Lady Shohime will make a lovely and capable consort." Once again the man in black provided a translation service with a healthy spoonful of creative interpretation.

"That went well." Mai had crept up behind me during the exchange.

"You must be joking." Even I knew that there were a thousand different ways it could have gone better.

She shrugged. "No one got stabbed."

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

(And for something completely different...)

The uber was long gone, nearly taking his leg off with its haste to speed off into the night. No going back now.

The lights and press of Kyoto's humanity was far behind. Here in this strange neighborhood, the sounds were different. No hum or buzz of neon, just a steady drip drip drip of some thick liquid onto the pavement. The road was gritty, he could feel tiny grains of gravel and dirt under his feet. The scent of rotting garbage hung in the air, dense, motionless as if not even the wind would dare come to this place.

He began to feel very stupid.

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

If you see this, consider yourself tagged!

[blacktofade]

Feb 17 — Injury

Hookhausen

CW: the beginnings of evilhausen

Hook doesn’t plan on stopping. He has his backpack and coat on, hood pulled up, ready to leave the arena and head back to his hotel room.

But Danhausen’s sitting in his path.

He hasn’t been spotted yet as Danhausen has his head in his hands. Hook could probably sneak out the back way. But Danhausen’s shoulders twitch and his hands shift, fingers clawing at his own head as though in pain.

Hook hesitates and that’s his first mistake. His second mistake is taking a step, and then another, toward Danhausen.

“You good?” he grunts and Danhausen’s head snaps up, gaze zeroing in on Hook.

There must be a cut somewhere on his head because there’s blood across his forehead, dripping down and blending with the red paint around his eyes.

Danhausen smiles at him, face contorting into an expression Hook isn’t used to seeing. Hook doesn’t spook easily, but there’s something unnerving about it that puts him on high alert.

“You seen medical?” Hook asks, ignoring the feeling, but Danhausen tilts his head, smile growing wider.

“It’s Danhausen’s good friend, Hook,” Danhausen says, and for some reason it doesn’t sound like he’s talking in the third person, the way he usually does. For some reason it sounds like Danhausen’s talking about another Danhausen.

Hook swallows and tries to play it cool.

“The one and only,” he agrees before tipping his head toward Danhausen’s injury. “You know you’re bleeding, right?”

Danhausen moves one hand to smear it through the worst of the blood, pulling it away to stare at his stained fingers.

“Yes,” he says, “it hurts.”

“You gonna do something about it?” Hook asks, and Danhausen’s still smiling when he shakes his head.

“No.”

Hook fidgets with the strap of his backpack and wonders if he should make up an excuse and leave because Danhausen’s clearly not in the mood to talk.

“Okay, I — ” he starts, but gets cut off when Danhausen’s hand snaps out and grabs his wrist.

His hand is fever-hot and slightly clammy and Hook can’t tell if it’s from sweat or blood.

“Hook wants to leave,” Danhausen says, though it might be a question.

“I was gonna go back to my hotel room,” Hook corrects, “I’m tired.”

Danhausen hums quietly, like maybe he doesn’t believe him. And he’d be right. Hook isn’t tired, he just doesn’t want to be there.

Danhausen squeezes his wrist, making the bones ache and reminding him that Danhausen isn’t always as helpless as he seems.

“Danhausen will go with you,” he says, so matter of factly that Hook scoffs.

“No, thanks,” he replies, and Danhausen squeezes his wrist again.

“It wasn’t a question,” Danhausen tells him. “Danhausen will come with you and you will fix his head.”

Hook blows out a breath and glances toward the exit, the door so close and yet so far.

“I don’t know first aid. Go see a professional.”

Danhausen stands up, off the storage crate he’d been sitting on, and the back of Hook’s neck prickles uncomfortably. He could have Danhausen on the floor in an instant, could Redrum him unconscious before he even laid a hand on Hook. But there’s something tickling at the back of his mind that says if he did, it would end badly — but not for Danhausen.

There’s something so wrong about the Danhausen staring across at him, almost eye-to-eye.

“Hook will fix Danhausen,” Danhausen insists, leaving no room for argument, so close that his breath blows across Hook’s chin. “Hook is the only one.”

“I’m not the only one who can help you,” Hook tells him and Danhausen’s expression darkens.

“That is not what Danhausen said. Hook is the only one Danhausen will let fix him.”

It’s infinitely worse. But Hook shrugs like it’s not his problem.

“Whatever,” he agrees, but Danhausen’s grip on him turns so tight that Hook finally tries to shake him off, but Danhausen doesn’t let go.

“Hook will say yes,” Danhausen tells him and Hook doesn’t appreciate the way it makes something tug low in his stomach.

Out of sheer stubbornness, Hook doesn’t reply for a long moment, letting Danhausen’s grip ache along his arm, grounding him.

But then he relents.

“Yes,” he says, and Danhausen’s unnerving smile returns.

“Danhausen will make it worth Hook’s time,” Danhausen promises and Hook very much doubts it.

He’s going to end up with more regrets than he already has. But he tilts his head in the direction of the door, and Danhausen finally lets go of his wrist.

“Hook will lead the way,” Danhausen tells him and Hook knows he should have just left through the back entrance.

This is what happens when he lets his guard down for even a second.

Danhausen watches him and Hook turns away, doing exactly as he’s been told.

[jodithann827]

Pretty Woman 9/11

Rating: Explicit / posted on AO3 / tagging @today-in-fic

Summary: zero plot in this chapter. Pure smut. You’re welcome 🔥

Sleeping Beauty’s Castle Suite

Wednesday

7:23 am

It was a dream. This is the first thought that penetrates Scully’s brain as she peeks one eye open to a glimmer of sunshine. Opening them wider, she realizes it couldn’t be a dream. They aren’t in the penthouse at the Waldorf, and she’s not in her tiny apartment; notably absent are the sounds of Missy’s soft snores. That means it must have been real. The entire day. The evening. Oh my god, she thinks, the kissing. She immediately begins chastising herself. One rule. There is only one rule Missy taught her when she started working the streets. Kissing is personal. Kissing can lead to feelings, and feelings can never happen. But I feel better than I ever have, she tells herself. She lets her thoughts drift to the man currently curled around her naked body. His soft and gentle yet powerful hands, his shining eyes, and his bright smile. His incredibly plump and yummy lips… damn it, she thinks. She, Dana Scully, the most independent person she has ever known, has become dependent on one single man. How am I going to get out of this? Do I want to get out of this?

Before she can lose herself any more in her thoughts, he stirs behind her. “I don’t want to wake up because that means the day is closer to being over,” he admits in a whisper that sends shivers up and down her spine. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to let you go.” She closes her eyes and licks her lips, unsure of how to respond. She’s doing everything she can to hold it together.

“I need to get up and get ready. I have a few things to tie up at the office. I’ve arranged for another car. Langly is still here and will take you back to the Waldorf when you’re ready. Stay in bed for a bit if you want. Order breakfast when you’re ready. There’s no rush on checking out. It’s all taken care of.” He nips her bare shoulder before reluctantly exiting the bed and heading—stark naked—towards the bathroom. Scully takes in the magnificent view.

“When do you leave for New York?” She calls, sitting up and pulling the sheet with her to cover her exposed form. He comes out a minute later, toothbrush in mouth.

“A-roun ine-ocock” he says, and she laughs. The toothbrush is one thing, but his morning erection is clear and his hair is sticking up every which way on his head. He is a sight for sore eyes. Pulling the brush from his mouth, he hastily swallows the toothpaste. “Around 9:00 this evening,” he repeats.

“Mulder! That’s disgusting!” she exclaims, still laughing at him.

“You know, Scully, laughing at a man in his birthday suit is probably not the most supportive thing one can do.” She stifles another laugh and looks him up and down again. She swears she can see a glint in his eye and feel the heat radiating from his body, even this far away.

“How fast do you need to get back?” she asks, flirtation dripping from her words.

Mulder strides self-assuredly back to the bed. His hands move to her face and he pulls her into a slow and deep kiss that she feels from her core to her toes. His tongue mingling with hers, the minty taste permeating throughout her mouth. Releasing her, he replies, “Well, seeing as how I’m the boss, I can be a little late.” He pulls the sheet from Scully’s grip. As it falls, he moves toward her chest, grabbing handfuls of both of her supple breasts. Scully throws her head back as Mulder latches onto a puckered nipple. There is no doubt about it, the man has a talent with his tongue. Scully weaves her fingers through his messy hair, pulling softly; something she’d learned earlier in the week that he thoroughly enjoys. They’d been so frantic in their fucking the previous evening that they hadn’t taken time to touch or explore, something they’d both enjoyed throughout their days together.

Mulder moves over Scully, pushing her back gently onto the bed, but is surprised when she pushes his shoulder, forcing him onto his back. So mighty for such a small person, he muses. Small in stature but a larger-than-life character.

She positions herself over his body and seductively slides down, headed for a single goal. She captures his erect cock in her mouth and Mulder hisses. She takes him all in, then slowly pulls off, then repeats the process. She circles her tongue around his tip while clutching his balls and then grazing her nails gently over them. She continues this pattern for a few minutes, all while Mulder is puddy in her hands, if his shrieks and moans are any indication. Knowing he’s approaching dangerous territory, and not wanting it to come to an end too quickly, he breathes deeply, trying to stave off his impending orgasm. He wishes, suddenly, that he had elastic-girl’s arms so that he could reach for Scully, touch her, and give her immense pleasure.

Suddenly, Scully’s thrusted onto her back, and before she knows what’s happening she feels Mulder's lips on her swollen clit and not one, but two fingers enter her wet pussy.

“Oh god, Mulder,” she moans. She goes to touch him but he stills her hands. Moving up her body, he kisses every inch until reaching her mouth. He slips his tongue past her lips, savoring every taste. Unexpectedly, he takes her arms and places them over her head, holding them in place.

“Keep them there,” he instructs. She shivers and nods, playing along. Returning to his task, he licks a path down her chest, detouring her breasts, down her torso, to the sweet spot between her thighs. He pauses and bites the juncture where her thigh and hip meet. Not one to favor one side over the other, he repeats the process.

Scully’s breathing becomes labored, her chest heaving. He continues sucking and playing her like a fiddle with his fingers. Her purrs and moans spur him on. Her howling of his name becomes his singular focus, and judging by her noises, she’s very close.

“Cum on my lips, Scully,” he says, working his tongue and fingers simultaneously.

“Mulder, Jesus. Please. Deeper, harder. Don’t stop fucking me like that,” she shouts, and then she is plunging over the edge, sounding his name with something between a moan and a shriek.

With barely any time to recover, Mulder climbs up to a sitting position on the bed and pulls Scully to his lap. They are pussy to cock, eye to eye, lips to lips, and heart to heart and he synchronously fills her mouth and nether regions. As rapid as the previous evening had been, this is sweetly sluggish and steady, in the best possible way. Every thrust, nip, and lick is felt by both parties. She’s on the verge of saying the dreaded “L” word, but she bites Mulder’s lip instead.

“God, Scully, you make me feel,” he pauses, searching for the right words, but the best he comes up with is, “alive.”

“I love it when you slide into me like that, Mulder, I want it over and over again,” she admits.

“Baby, you’re going to make me cum, but I won’t do it without you,” he tells her. He can’t quite reach her clit, given the position they’re in.

Suddenly, Scully does something she never thought in a million years she would do. She pulls his finger to her mouth, wets it, and then moves it toward her ass. He doesn’t penetrate, but applies enough pressure that she, and subsequently he, is soaring. Lost in the moans and names are sighs and kisses.

***

“No, it’s silly,” she mumbles into his chest. Snuggled into each other, Mulder ducks his head to nip at her ear while gently running his hands up and down her back.

After their screwing and shower—which led to more passionate sex against the shower wall— Mulder called the office, again making an excuse for his tardiness, before pulling Scully back into bed. They lounge together, talking, laughing, and enjoying an exuberant amount of kissing.

“It’s not silly if it’s something you used to think about,” he points out to her.

“Well, you know I always wanted to go to Disney, so of course I always dreamed of the fairytale,” she explains.

“Like the prince and horse, and tights and all?” Mulder asks, scrunching his nose. Scully lets out a laugh, nodding.

“But then I grew up and realized that fairytales were just that, a fantasy,” she adds.

He’s sad for her and her loss of innocence, on multiple levels. He grudgingly glances at his watch and mumbles. “I really have to get going this time.” Slowly rolling to the side, he delicately slides her off him. As he dresses, he feels her eyes burning deep into his soul.

“I’ll be at the office for a little bit, but would love to see you at the hotel before I head for the airport. Do you have anything planned for the afternoon?” Scully’s heart aches. She knows it’s coming to an end, but can’t quite wrap her head around it. She can’t imagine spending a day without him. Instead, she swallows her racing thoughts down and responds with, “Actually, my sister is meeting me at the hotel for a bit. I texted her while you were finishing in the shower.”

Now fully dressed, Mulder leans over the bed, drawing Scully’s lips to his. Upon letting go, he says, “Have a safe ride back. I’ll see you a little later.”

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Choose Violence asks! Pick the most inflammatory ones you can find on the list and answer them. If Danger!Josh has an unpopular opinion on specific things mentioned therein, he can share them too.

Oh yes! Let's get riekling over here! This includes ART! Under the cut for length. I'm mostly just gushing about a Danger!Josh HC that I have. :3 You know the one ;)

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

So I have two of these, the first one being Cicero and the second being Miraak. Prior to seeing any discourse I either gave zero shits or just didn't care for them (based off of Cicero, I can't handle his voice, it's so grating and hurts my ears.) But I didn't think that much about either of them until I started actually participating in the fandom (in my own way, I don't really contribute outside of personal conversations and any of the art I produce...which has nothing to do with either of those characters...except my one joke about Miraak as a Shoggoth being sexy).

I had no idea that it was immoral or moral to dislike either character and I'm sorry but Cicero makes me think of smelly ham water (as someone who is very mentally ill from trauma I also find him a bit insulting.) and Miraak is a missed opportunity that has been pulled in so many directions that I just can't. I won't.

18. It's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Teldryn Sero! Blade for hire, best swordsman in all Morrowind and absolute goddamn Dwemer-loving dorkface! Yes, you heard me! That guy is astounded by those ruins! I present to you his vanilla dialogue when you encounter a Dwemer ruin: "The dwarves were a clever race. I wonder what happened to them?"

And his Markarth line:

"Can you imagine what Markarth must have looked like when the dwarves were living here? I can't even begin to imagine." It's there hidden amongst all that dramatic cynicism, sarcastic bravado and slight "Dunmer are better than you" attitude. This guy is a nerd for anything Dwemer! I never see anyone point this out though. I think it's a missed opportunity for character-building. His tone, still sarcastic as ever (because he is dripping in it) does change to one of awe. The only other thing he gets this way about are the Telvanni mushroom Tels. So he seems to appreciate grand architecture (though not Nordic or Imperial styles interestingly enough), it would explain why every town you walk into in Skyrim elicits a bitch-a-thon from him. He hates everything because it looks unimpressive to him. Blacklight must be as grand as Markarth is intended to be in the lore. Since he compares that city to everything. I have my own thoughts on what it looks like too ;) Guess who else is a dork for ancient shit? Me! So naturally I grabbed onto these lines and ran with them. I HC his interest in Dwemer is a full-on obsession. He wants to go to that museum, he wants to go dungeon diving with you and he insists on dumping as many dwemer nick-nacks into his pack as he can. He also does this with knives lol.

I also HC him as the Nerevarine, so on top of that I have him swiping that Dwemer Coherer back from Divayth Fyr as payback for not actually curing his corprus. Now what on earth is a coherer? An electrical component formerly used to detect radio waves. It consists of a tube containing loosely packed metal particles. They were used to pick up and measure radiowaves. And so Dwifi was born! Danger!Josh wants to reverse-engineer that shit! And I ran with that and created this <3

My baby bird fiddling with that damn machine part!

[theanticool]

I’m currently ordering books for work (children’s librarian) and came across this book on Kirkus and figured I’d share with you all.

Jiu-Jitsu Girl by Jennifer Dutton

What’s more terrifying than being forced into a coed combat wrestling martial art by your own mother? Sixth grade.

Angie Larson hates Jiu-Jitsu. Like many twelve-year-old girls, she fails to find the glamour in a martial art that embraces zero personal space and choking as an end goal. Seriously, people choke her, drip sweat on her face, and even wrap their legs around her neck. It’s the worst. Instead, she idolizes the seemingly perfect kids at her school who do “normal” activities like dance or soccer. But just when it seems like Angie is about to be accepted by them, her mom enrolls her in a Jiu-Jitsu tournament and begins a relationship with the sweatiest coach on the planet. And to make things more complicated, Angie develops a close friendship with a boy who is definitely not part of the “cool” crowd.

Angie must decide who she is while making some painful decisions both on and off the mat. Is she a dance girl, a soccer girl, a nothing girl . . . or a Jiu-Jitsu girl?

According to an interview I read with the author, she is a Tae Kwon Do to BJJ convert so there’s that.

Here’s the Kirkus review for those interested

The main character grows over the course of this story, but her path is loaded with heavy-handed didacticism.

The book is targeted for ages 8-12 if anyone wants to check it out for the jiu-jitsu girl in their life.

Am I going to post every time I come across a kid’s book with a martial-arts bent to it? You bet I am!

[shadowfromthestarlight]

self-pity party:

i don’t have it in me to celebrate or even be a remotely pleasant person right now. i had a cold starting on december 11th, which never progressed into anything worse but never entirely went away, then i must have caught something on the way to florida on the 23rd, because on christmas day i came down with what felt like a cross between covid and strep throat (maybe it was lol; i didn’t test). eating and drinking became a chore because of my swollen lymph nodes. my whole body hurt. i got a plush toy to remind me of my cat because i wished i could have my cat to cuddle with. the sore throat and aches gave way to a massive sinus infection. on wednesday morning, everything just started coming out. i had to work, but i also had to blow my nose every couple of minutes. falling asleep was hard because it was hard to breathe from the congestion. normal cold & flu medicine didn’t help. by friday night, i’d lost my voice. saturday morning, my eye hurt and there was never-ending green gunk coming out, my voice hadn’t improved, the congestion hadn’t improved, the sinus pressure was barely tolerable.

i spent the last day of 2022 feeling the worst i’d felt all year, unable to speak in anything above a hoarse whisper, a never-ending headache and pain all over my face, my eye clogged with goop, weak and fatigued from days of illness. i spent three hours of the afternoon waiting to get prescribed antibiotics at an urgent care. my head throbbed more and more as the night wore on. i was in so much pain and discomfort and frustration from being sick for three weeks and all-around misery that i wished i was a child so it would be okay to fall on the floor and scream. i watched the fireworks (at least 2 dozen displays) from the balcony and kissed my plush toy and went to bed. 

medicine and sleep marginally improved things; i can now think without a pounding headache and my eye isn’t oozing every minute. i might be able to travel home without people freaking out because i look like i’m patient zero for the next pandemic. i can still barely talk. i woke up coughing from post-nasal drip. i’m so over it. i’m over being asked how i feel, i’m over being told what to do to feel better, i’m over being asked if i’ve taken my medicine, in fact i would like to not be spoken to at all. i just want to go home, pull the covers over my face, and hide in the dark with my cat.

[i don’t even feel happy about the new year; i actually feel nothing much at all. i had never looked forward to 2023 anyway because i didn’t like the number. besides, from a global standpoint, it’s going to suck. we have possibly the greatest concentration of “leaders” who don’t know how to lead in human history. they’re all either weak-willed, stupid, or just plain psychopathic. there will be zero accountability for the people who just from a moral standpoint deserve to be hanged for crimes against humanity over the past three years. they’ll just come up with creative new ways to abuse us. can’t wait to see what the next annual propaganda campaign is!]

i feel awful because i’m a walker and a hiker and a step counter and i’ve barely been able to do anything for days. i haven’t had 10K steps since the 22nd. i’ve had one meal i would consider satisfying in the entire past week. i look scrawny. i have to do a lot in january to make up for it, but right now, instead of excited, i just feel exhausted.  

i think i’m gonna try crying and see if that helps get more... you know... out. 

happy new year same shit, different digits. enjoy it while you can, before WWIII hits. 

i might be back in a few days. idk.

[idkisaccmoon]

LORE DROP!!!!

Mystictale|Genocide| after everything. | ⚠Warning!: cursing, Violence, weird describing of wounds, inaccurate drawing of characters!

[Ink is not mine, he belongs to Comyet]

(PT1)

*Mystic stood there, Exhausted. He had destroyed the virus. But, the virus had already gotten to everyone. There was no point. Mystic stood there, his eye slightly dripping from his face. He was week now, one touch from the virus and he would've been affected to. He looked around him, the realisation soon but him that everyone and everything was gone. He signed, as his emotions took over, tears ran down his face. His scarf slightly ripped, and the black thick liquid flowing down his face mixing with his tears. Soon enough he looked up and saw a black figure in the distance. He smiled and started running over to them, hoping, praying, he wasn't holusinating, that he wasn't the only survivor. Once he started to make out who this person/figure was he slowed down, his smile fading. He realized it was his father, Z-gaster.

*Z-gaster stands there his hands behind his back, his back turned to Mystic.

*COWERED! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO THIS WORLD! AND FOR WHAT REASON?!* Mystic says with straight anger. After all, he new it was him.

*Z-gaster turned to Mystic, his face of zero emotion. Mystic seems to realize why.

*YOU MONSTER!* Mystic would yell.

*Z-gaster slowly approaches Mystic, slowly smiling.

*Dear child. You must understand. You were a mistake, and so was the world of ours. It needed to happen.*

* Z-gaster would say with zero empathy or regret. He put his hand on Mystics face. Mystic looked up at him in confution. Z-gaster would slowly take his hand off Mystics face then slap them. Catching them off guard. Z-gaster pushed Mystic on the ground. Mystic would try to fight back, a gaster blaster charging up behind Z-gaster.

*if im going down your coming with me. * Mystic would say harshly.

*Z-gasters smile would soon fade.

*You foolish child... * Z-gaster would say.

*They would hear footsteps behind them, in a blink of an eye Z-gaster was gone. Leaving Mystic alone with the footsteps from afar. He was to weak to teleport away. *

*fuck..* he has said to himself.

(PT2)

*The footsteps got closer, he could soon make out who this person was. And it wasn't just on person no.. It was two. Both with scarfs, one with red just like his and one with a brown. They got closer and closer, he was already paranoid and had enough with people. Once the people got too close he slowly got up and surrounded the people with bones. He slowly walking over to them, his eye now somewhat dripping to the floor.

*Who are you.* Mystic had said rudly.

The two people hooked at each other then at Mystic. The were both skeletons, one shorter and one Mystics hight... Very.. Very similar to mystic. They both had brushes but different designs. The shorter one had a thing over his shoulder, it had very colorfull vials in it.

*Heya new friend..! Uh our friend dream sensed negative feelings here and got... Lost.... But anyways I'm glad me and Mystic here found you!* the short one said.

*Mystic? But. That's my name. * Mystic replied.

*oh! OHHHHH! * the short one said, *well you see.. This Mystic is from the pacifist timeline! And I'm guessing your from the Genocide timeline.. What would you like to be called?*

Mystic stood there. A new name? He would gladly take that.

*Uhm. How about Zee* He had said

*Zee?* The short one said, *THAT'S PERFECT! you can change it anytime friend!*

Zee nodded. He took down the bones surrounding Mystic (other mystic) and Short skeleton could be free.

*Oh! I think I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Ink!* Ink said.

(PT3)

*Zee nodded, he examined the two suspiciously. Zee turned around and started walking away. Ink and Mystic watched him walk away before Ink spoke up.

*Hey! Wait we’re are you going? We still have to talk!!* He had said waving his hands around. But Zee continued to walk away. Mystics smile turned to a frown.

*just let him go. Let’s come back later.* Mystic said facing Ink, grabbing onto his paintbrush. *we still have to get to Spell. See how she’s doing.* He continued.

Ink sighed, *Fine, but we should try to find Petal first! See if they survived here like mystic. Maybe they’ll trust us then!*

Mystic looked at Zee then back at Ink, *yea sure, let’s just not keep Spell waiting.*

Ink noticed Mystic had something up, but dicided to brush it off. [Pun intended]

Zee continued to walk, as if he felt like it was the end for him. His face falling out of place still. He thought to himself, “I should rest… just for a bit…” and that’s what he did, at least after 10 minutes or so of walking in an endless void. He sat down, then laid down.. and soon fell unconscious.

Ink and Mystic walked around looking for Petal, *We’ve looked for 10 minutes already. * Mystic said, his hand on his hip.

Ink sighed, *Your right… Let’s go to spell. She won’t like us being late.*

Mystic nodded, Grabbing his brush and splattering multicolored paint on the ground befor leaping through, ink does the same.

Back with Zee, he is still unconscious on the floor. Dreaming…

[his dream]

Mystic has outside of his and his brothers (Sans and Papyrus) cabin in Snowdin. They all had matching sweaters.

*Hey Mystic! We should take photos in our new sweaters!* Papyrus requested. Looking at Mystic with a smile.

*Sure Brother! I’ll go get Sans.* He replied. He went in the cabin to get Sans(who was in his room) *Sans! Come outside with me and Papyrus! We’ll be waiting!!* He shouted from the living room. He went back outside with papyrus, *I called him to get over here* He said

*Alright!* Papyrus replied.

*Soon enough sans walked outside of the cabin, wearing the same sweater as the two.

*Finaly! Your finally here sans!* Papyrus said exitedly. *Now let’s take a picture!* he added taking out his phone and raising it upwards. Mystic and Sans posed as well as Papyrus. He took a picture then looked at his phone, showing it to Mystic as they talked. Sans on the other hand saw something abnormal. One of the trees beside them was.. glitching? The tree seemed to have black lines all over it as well. The lines got worse and worse I ti the tree was completely black. Sans got a bit worried for his brothers. What seemed like a mouth appeared on the tree, the tree didn’t even seem like a tree anymore.. it was expanding. The blackness soon corrupted the cabin and more. It grew what seemed like tentacles. It grabbed on to Sans before he could do anything, catching Mystic and papyrus’ attention…

(PT4)

*SANS!* Mystic had yelled, reaching out for him.

*GOVE ME BACK MY BROTHER YOU.. YOU.. CREATURE!!!* Mystic demanded, he was ready to fight this…thing..! The creature let out a rawr then ate sans whole.

*NO!!! SANS!!* Mystic yelled, Papyrus standing there in complete fear. Mystic sommoned blasters and boned needle fighting agensted this reched creature. It rawr as it got hit by the blasts and needles. And it suddenly disappeared. Leaving sans on the ground, black goo coming of his eye sockets, he seemed to be glitching.

*SANS! ARE YOU OK?!* Mystic said worriedly running towards him.He helped Sans up,

*Lets get you cleaned up…* Mystic added. Helping Sans walk back into the cabin. Papyrus followed. Mystic set Sans on the couch, Papyrus went in the kitchen to make spegeti. Mystic got rags from a closet and cleaned off Sans face. He was conscious through everything. Time to time he would puke up this black goo, but the night went on and everyone went to bed.

[somestoriessomewhereelse]

INKTOBER 2023

1 - DREAM

Once upon a night, I was able to close my eyes and vision fantastic worlds. I used to trip to beautiful places, and experience wonderful stories. But nowadays my dreams are collapsing, and they feel too close to the reality. I'm not sure if midnight is my friend anymore.

2 - SPIDERS

When he's there, I can handle it. I'm not scared when I see him, I'm scared when I saw him but don't see him anymore. When I know he's around, but can't predict the moment he's gonna try to trap me in his web.

3 - PATH

It is always the same dilemma: go right, or go left. I could think I already know which way is the best, but I will never be sure, not before choosing, and sometimes not even after. I only know my dilemma: go right, or go wrong.

4 - DODGE

I remember this time in PE when we were learning boxing. I didn't want to, but the teacher encouraged me to try, and try harder. So I hit my partner's glove with all my strength. And my own fist bounced back into my nose, and broke it. This day I learned the one person who'll never fail to hurt me, would be myself.

5 - MAP

You can't find the pirate's treasure if you don't know where to search, right? Well, the all life is this same hunt, and you always need a map.

Unless you have the privilege to be born with a part of the treasure.

6 - GOLDEN

You know what? Today is gonna be a good day. I have the feeling it's gonna be soft as a dawn, bright as a zenith, and warm as a sunset. Thank god it's Friday.

7 - DRIP

I've been a very bad girl, a very, very, bad bad girl. And I've still got some dripping at the corner of my mouth, and probably leaking somewhere somewhere else...

8 - TOAD

Toad is a playable character from Mario Kart. To play Mario Kart Wii, you need full charged batteries. I wish I had that last night.

9 - BOUNCE

Life is ups and downs. Sometimes you're on top, and sometimes you're in the bottom. Everything is a cycle.

10 - FORTUNE

The wheel of Fortune is a reminder that everything happens for a logical reason, whether we can understand its logic or not. We are all parts of greater patterns, which are always in motion. Only the past is already written, any future is still up to come.

11 - WANDER

Gender. Work. Family. Drugs. Projects and plans. Memories. Expectations. Preferences. Relationships. Art. Death. Identity.

I will always be looking for who I am.

12 - SPICY

Each flavor tells a story. Vanilla is the best friend who never lets you down. Cinnamon likes to offer Christmas gifts. Paprika dances in the club only during summer. Rosemary makes love to you in the garden. And so on. So tell me which spice is your favorite and I'll decide what I'll do to you with my mouth.

13 - RISE

Fascination. Temptation. Ascension.

I must rise to the occasion.

Aim for the moon, shoot in the stars,

Did you know you could go so far?

References made me, I can't stop.

Now from the top, make it pop.

Rejoice and love yourself today,

'cause baby, you are born this way.

14 - CASTLE

Once upon a time, the northern kid finally decided to take control of his story. He believed that his home, the House, would protect him from hate, loneliness and danger. Sadly he realized that he could not escape from himself, nor from anything at all.

15 - DAGGER

I thought blades were the most effective artillery. You stab, they bleed, you live, they die. Simple. Then I discover words. How much you can hurt with words, how long it might take before their wound heals. Impressive. However now I'm sure: the best weapon is silence.

16 - ANGEL

"What a cute guy", every girl said about him - and they were right. But the blondie wasn't straight, and had zero interest in these obtuse teenagers. The only question that completed his mind was: "do I have a gag reflex?"

17 - DEMON

And so the cute guy went looking for the answer, sucking cocks always larger and larger, to discover that no, he had no gag reflex at all. He was a true succubus, and sure an angel for those he was happy to kneel before.

18 - SADDLE

I have no inspiration today. What do you want me to say? Some depression drama like "you don't have a saddle for living life hurts". Or some optimistic bullshit like "when you fall down you get back up and keep on riding". Well, you got both, pick yours. I'm not riding horses anymore.

19 - PLUMP

I don't want to write about weight gain, food OCD, the way I dislike my body changes, nor fatphobia. And I don't see any other point of view for this theme. So relax, take it easy, and see you tomorrow.

20 - FROST

I was born during the coldest night of the coldest winter. It was so cold my heart turned into ice. But i'm not the frozen bitch they call me, I do have warm feelings deep inside of me. And they all are as unique and beautiful as a snowflake.

21 - CHAINS

When I'm looking at you, laid down naked in your bed, wearing only a leather harness and purple handcuffs at your wrists, I realize it's so good for once to be at the right place at the right moment with the right person.

22 - SCRATCHY

When your own body is too much to handle,

when you want to feel less and less yourself,

when your skin becomes the enemy to defeat,

when you need this burn to rise from your ashes.

23 - CELESTIAL

The truth is in the stars for whom is able to read it. However these days the night sky is cloudy, polluted, blurred; it's complicated to read it properly. The future is not so bright, I'm afraid.

24 - SHALLOW

I wish I was able to let you see all my layers, not only the most accessible but also the deepest ones below the surface. With that said, I also wish you wanted to dive inside of me to discover them.

25 - DANGEROUS

Is it worse to be a danger for others, or for oneself? (They answered "for others", I say "for myself".)

26 - REMOVE

You can't remove the milk after you poured it into the hot chocolate, you can't remove the bad text after they read it in the chat, and you can't remove a bad thought after it popped into your brain.

27 - BEAST

I know there is some beauty in everything, but I'm exhausted to try to find it behind all the ugliness in this world. And it's getting difficult to find it in me.

28 - SPARKLE

If homosexuality was a choice, I would choose it only for the lifestyle. I mean, being extra and fancy and colorful and not vanilla flavoured, it's a yes. But liking men... well, choices.

29 - MASSIVE

"Massive", of course I was going to make a joke about my dick. Some people will say I'm bold, but above all the truth is that I'm bald.

30 - RUSH

Life is like a bottle of poppers. It comes in different sizes and perfumes, it's not the healthiest but you kinda like it, and the more you take the hotter it gets ('cause, you know, global warming). And the ends comes before you know it.

31 - FEU

Au commencement il y avait le feu, et à la fin il n'y aura plus que le feu. Le feu est maître, juge, et roi. Le feu est naissance, mort, et renaissance. Qui joue avec le feu périra dans les flammes. Et je suis un grand joueur.

[rat-woman876]

This is a post VERY different from what I make, its a personal lil story about something boring and rather intresting.

Yknow how theres always that like gendered clothing thing? This is for boys and this is for girls, but what if someone was NEVER raised to see clothes that way because they never had the chance to be taught that? Because thats me

I of course saw it in media but never had it told to me why girls wear this and boys that, so I grew up just wearing stuff that felt nice, loose baggy clothes 90% of the time, I had issues with harder materials and textures so I just wore the stuff that made me feel nice.

Its made getting clothes more difficult because I admittedly don't like clothes with designs or prints, I like my clothes just to be clothes, I wear clothes SOLELY because they feel nice, even after I came out as trans I didn't even look for womens clothes, mens clothes are always baggy and comfy so I just buy those because why put myself through 50 hoops when I can just feel nice?

It also means I have ZERO drip, literally zero intresting clothes, no real style either, ambiguous is the word someone could use, no real personality attached to my outfit outside of it being a outfit.

Of course people who've talked to me know I talk a lot, some have heard me go on for hours, in great detail, about things I like all while wearing a outfit that screams "I am a background character in a show" I've never considered how bizarre that must look from the outside, a plain grey shirt and plain grey pants on someone who wears no makeup, has no tattoos, no piercings, no dye to her hair, no anything really, yet there I am a few thousand words a minute, a MLA formatted essay being written in real time about the systems and mechanics of warframe and its entire lore all together.

I genuinely think I look rather boring, and I look at others who have a clear goal in mind of what they wish to look like and all I can think is "That seems like unnecessary work" why not just be comfortable, sweat pants and a shirt, maybe a jacket if its too chilly just, completely relaxed, give it a try if you've for some reason never just hung out in clothes that scream comfy.

That is all.

[tryst-art-archive]

Nov. 2012: "Reading Response 3"

....I demonstrate a centrist tendency in this which MAKES ME VERY MAD. I do not stand by 21-year-old me's centrist stance.

I believe this was an essay for that one epub class. I think it was meant to be about information bubbles? I don't really remember.

----Essay----->

            In a general way, I see attention fatigue as effecting me more while I tend to be hyper aware of the loss of social breadth and the distorted sense of reality (which, to my mind, go so hand-in-hand as to be nearly the same entity). I imagine that the latter two would be the ones effecting me the most, and in many ways I’m certain that they do impact me far more than I realize, except that I am so fixated upon them. I am a person who is inherently indecisive; when I’m presented with a problem, I try to gather as many different perspective on the problem as possible, rather than trying to find facts. I assume that facts are virtually nonexistent, but if I can consume enough different opinions, then whatever is true in all of them must be factual. Simultaneously, I am able to find and identify the arguments that seem the most reasonable, the most logical, and appear to be accounting for the largest number of factors in the most beneficial way. In theory, this should lead me to a single answer and a decision; it rarely does so as I become so bogged down in the two to ten perspectives rolling around my mind, all of which make absolute crystal clear sense to me, that I cannot, in the end, choose one as being any better than the others. Thus, when I catch myself or my friends or really anyone remotely in my vicinity generalizing or taking an article for fact without double-checking its sources or attempting to think critically about them, I go on high alert, becoming suspicious and thinking how the individual in question is selecting out the information they want and how their social group is reinforcing their beliefs; the homogeny in my apartment drives me mad so that I’ve taken to seeking out just about anyone with an opinion that varies from that of my best friend and her girlfriend, lest I be sucked into their collective consciousness.

            Yet, at the same time, I am just as guilty of these biases. I was, mere moments ago, considering unfriending a high school acquaintance on Facebook for her obnoxiously vocal support of Mitt Romney. (My political position on the election has been “Literally anyone but Romney.”) I haven’t actually done so, but I’d very much like to, just so I don’t have to read about how dumb she thinks Obama is. On the other hand, I’ve been the one to explain why Romney supporters support Romney to the majority of my friends, who support Obama—they don’t know why; they can’t even fathom it, and it’s because they have exactly zero access to anyone exhibiting a critical thinking ability who is in support of Romney. I, on the other hand, have noted several and have thus come to perceive the election as a choice between positive economic policies and much-desired change and, on the other hand, civil liberties and much-needed healthcare reform. It’s a difficult choice to make, and, to me, civil liberties must always be the first priority, but when viewed in this way, Romney supporters suddenly become understandable.

            Still, when I catch myself failing to maintain the intellectual curiosity that enabled me to take that view, I find it’s because of attention fatigue. My ability to focus is utterly shot, particularly if I’m under stress and doubly so if it’s emotional duress. I spend most of my free time perusing the internet, using tumblr or StumbleUpon, both of which are sites dedicated to providing a steady drip of interesting content as quickly as possible and in as great a volume as possible, and yet for all the content I view, I hardly retain any of it, and most of what I bother to actually look at is image-based or no more than a few lines; I can’t be bothered to read an entire article or even a few paragraphs unless the headline indicates that he subject matter is very much geared toward my pre-existing interests. Even then, I can easily be distracted less than a quarter of the way through and find myself running on to the next thing, thoughts uncompleted. Simultaneously, I’m utterly unable to take in auditory information fully; it simply flies in one ear and out the other because I can’t focus on the actual words being spoken to me. Instead of meaning packets, they act mostly as sound, and generally sound too feeble to win my attention away from my screen. All in all, I feel as though I would be better informed, a better intellectual, and generally more worthy as a human being and society member if I could just get past the fact that I can hardly go more than three sentences into anything without clicking off to the next item.

[allbark-no-bite]

survivor’s guilt.

bradley bradshaw x reader (wc: 2k)

summary: when your back seater doesn’t make it back to base, Rooster is your shoulder to cry on

warnings: swearing, angst, character death, blood

author’s note: thank you all so much for the interaction with my last post! again, I have zero aircraft knowledge so forgive me (and my spelling)

————————————————————————

I remember crawling across the ground, trembling and shaking, sticky with hot blood and covered in dust. My ears buzzed, staticky, as though I could hear everything and nothing at all. Sick as a dog, I'd leaned over to vomit.

“Gator, snap out of it! Right fucking now!" I scream, praying he will hear me shouting through the headset. "God dammit, wake up!"

From the backseat of the cockpit, I get nothing but radio silence. He had blacked out, falling into g-LOC as we began the climb out of the canyon. And then our engine failed.

I want nothing more than to reach behind me and smack the living crap out of him, but my hands remain glued to the control stick, desperately trying to pull the plane up in a hopeless last ditch effort.

Black smoke billows out the backside of the engine. Inside the plane, meters and gauges on the control panel flash red, going haywire.

“Hijack, punch out! You're about to reach the hard deck! Do you hear me?! Punch out!" I can hear Maverick screaming in my ear just about as well as I can see the numbers on the altimeter clicking down dangerously low...

05,678 ft

04,374 ft

03,294 ft

“Gator, now or we're both fucking dead!"

02,412 ft

Maverick's voice is still crackling in my ear, the radio going in and out as we lose signal. "—out! You have to leave h—! You hav— eject!"

01,523 ft

The ground rushes towards us as we hurdle downwards. My head is pounding from screaming.

“PUNCH OUT, GATOR!!"

“Hijack!"

Squeezing my eyes shut and chocking back a sob, I jam my finger into the release button. The cockpit hatch opens up and my parachute erupts from my pack, the wind snatching me from the plane seconds before it crashes into the cliff.

I had laid there for what seemed like hours afterwards, waiting for a rescue copter, waiting to pass out. The remains of the plane sat just a few hundred yards from me, a light with flames.

Guilt pooled in the pit of my stomach as images of the charred cockpit filled my brain. There would be nothing to salvage, no survivors. My eyes clenched shut, trying to expel the image from my head. You left him.

At some point, I remember staggering to my feet after heaving my aching body off the ground. I had smashed my nose during the eject, and could feel the blood dripping from it. Running my tongue across my teeth, I feel the grit of dust and smoke, and taste the metallic twang of blood in my mouth. Nausea gets the better of me, and I have to lean over to retch again. Above me, the hum of approaching helicopter blades whirs loudly.

I stay put as the rescue copter descends to the ground, using my arm to block any flying debris from hitting my face. The first person off the aircraft is Rooster, followed by two medics, and Maverick not far behind them. Rooster is by my side within seconds, launching himself at me with such force that I stumble back, my hands remaining limp at my sides.

I watch over his shoulder as members of the rescue team tread around the smoking wreckage. Someone shakes their head. Gator is dead.

Rooster then pulls back so his hand can grab my shoulder. Holding me away from his body, his eyes scan me frantically for injuries. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? he demands, the tension in his voice obvious at the sight of blood on my face.

No, I'm not. Gator is dead, I want to scream at him.

I swallow, shaking my head. "Must have bit my tongue on the way down, hit my nose ejecting," I murmur numbly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the medics motioning to Maverick. Receiving the news, he sighs, closing his eyes and gathering himself when he thinks I'm not watching. He turns back to me, nodding softly and placing his hand on my shoulder to steer me towards the helicopter. "Well, per protocol, you still need to get checked out."

However, I don't move from where I'm standing. Rooster stops after a few steps when he notices I'm not following. "Hijack?"

Maverick is already in the chopper, the blades whirring to life again. Rooster walks back towards me. "Hijack," he repeats, his eyes watching something over my shoulder. Don't look back, I think. His eyes fall back to me. "C'mon ‘jack, we gotta go—"

“He's dead," I state aloud, my voice sounding small and far away even to my own ears. "He's dead, Rooster."

Rooster reaches for me, his hand wrapping around my elbow. "You're in shock right now," he says gently. "Let's get on the chopper, yeah?"

I can't leave him. I can't leave him here all alone.

I step back to avoid his grasp, but he strides forward, catching my arm before I can escape. "[Y/n]—," he begins. "[Y/n]." I yank my arm back, twisting my body as I do so.

“No. Not without him," I argue, but Rooster is already grabbing my other arm and pinning my back to his chest, causing me to be hoisted off of the ground. "No!" I scream, kicking my legs wildly. My heavy combat boots lash out into empty air. "No, I can't leave him!"

“Gator is gone, [Y/n]. He's gone."

I'm still screaming, thrashing wildly in Rooster's arms as he carries me onto the helicopter. I fight him every step of the way. Hot, angry tears stream down my face. I hiccup on a cry caught in my throat. It's painful and hurts my ribs when I force a breath in. "Please, I can't leave him! I can't— I can't —"

Rooster holds me close to his chest, pulling me down to the floor in the belly of the helicopter. His arms wrap around my torso tightly to keep my arms from flailing. My cries are hysterical. "Shhh, shhh," he soothes into my ear as I sob. "I've got you, I've got you."

When the aircraft lifts off, he continues to hold me to his chest as I struggle against his hold. I can feel my chest tightening, making it harder and harder to choke out cries.

The next thing I know, there's a prick and a stinging sensation in the side of my neck, the flash of a needle in my peripheral vision, and my hysterical sobs fade into the blackness that swallows me

—

Water verging on the edge of cold and just warm enough that it's cruel sprays down onto my shoulders, seeping through my scalp and dripping down the bridge of my nose. Around me, the remainder of the spray pelts down onto the tiles and forms droplets on the walls. The sound feels like white noise in my head. It's the first conscious moment I've had since the helicopter.

Despite the uncomfortable numbness that the communal shower provides, I'm painfully aware of the silence; painfully aware of the existence of my own body: the water dripping into my mouth as I breathe, the burn of my eyes, the press of hard tiles against my spine from where I'm crouched against the wall. I suck in a breathe and water flows into my mouth, a sputtering sob escaping me.

Gator was my weapons assistant officer, named for his impeccable set of pearly whites and constant grin of mirth. He was my best friend. We completed basic training together and both went on to be accepted into Top Gun after graduation. We were inseparable, Gator somehow even managing to become my permanent back seater in the air. Wherever I went, Gator went.

Even after I met Rooster, Gator continued to be there for me, vowing to my boyfriend before each and every mission that he would bring me back home safely. It was his job to watch my back while we were up in the air; however, I still felt the same responsibility to protect him. Every time I took hold of the controller in that F/A-18, he was trusting me with his life, and therefore it was my responsibility to get him back on the ground safely.

I had failed him.

I don't hear the soft tread of boots on the shower tiles until Rooster is crouching down in front of me, now being misted by the spray himself. He brushes a wet tangle of hair out of my face, cupping my cheek afterwards. There's a soft, pained smile on his face.

“Hey," he says softly, his voice tender. "I'm sorry," is all he whispers.

I lean into his large palm, his warmth caressing my cheek. My eyes are bloodshot and glassy, filled with tears. "They gave me his helmet," I manage. "It's the only thing that survived the crash." There would be no body to bury, just an empty casket with a flag for the service.

Back in the barracks, a swamp green helmet sits on the bunk next to mine. Pseudo scales line the top, a nod to his reptilian call sign. Right now, it makes me sick to look at.

“I can put it away," he offers gently, as not to upset me with the suggestion. As guilty as it makes me feel, I nod. His large hand pats my knee as he stands.

“Alrighty then," Rooster sighs, wrapping a towel around my shoulders and lifting me into his arms. He's already damp from the shower, so the addition of my dripping body makes no difference to his wet uniform. His large hands splay across my bare skin, and nothing has ever felt more welcoming.

When we enter the barracks, Rooster grabs a plain military issued t-shirt from his belongings, passing by Gator's bunk to snag the helmet with his free hand. The other arm holds me close to his body. I see him scoot the helmet underneath the bunk, now out of sight. 

Setting me down on the bunk, he slips the t-shirt over my head, the tan garment so large that it pools beneath me. I drag my palm under my nose, sniffing as I do so. My throat and nose are raw from crying, and my eyes burn.

“Look at me." I can feel the mattress dip under me as Rooster sits down. "Hey, look at me." This time his finger nudges my chin up to meet his hazel eyes. "Let him go," he says softly.

The knot in my raw throat won’t allow me to respond, so I just turn my head away instead, but Rooster’s hand won’t allow it, and he brings my eyes back to his. “I almost lost you too.” It isn’t until now that I see the fresh quiver of wetness wavering in his eyes, his tough exterior threatening to crumble before me. “I almost lost you too,” he repeats, as though to feel the very possible reality on his lips.

There were many days that I stood at the mission control panel, hardly breathing until the moment Rooster’s feet were on solid ground again. When Rooster went down with Maverick just outside the Ukraine power plant, my entire world ceased to exist until his tracker appeared back on the radar. I knew what it felt like to lose someone before I had even lost someone.

Rooster holds an arm out for me to scoot closer to him, and I nestle into his side against the wall. He plants a kiss to the side of my temple, ducking his head down to nudge his nose against the column of my neck. His lips place delicate kisses along my throat, his mustache tickling my skin.

We had started dating not long after we met, still a little young and foolish for our relationship to be considered anything serious, especially for soldiers who could be deployed across the country at any given moment. But we gave it a shot, and here we are two years later. After a year of considering ourselves unattached, we decided to date exclusively. However, there were still gaps in our relationship that neither of us knew how to cross. Until now. It’s so unannounced that I’m hardly sure I hear it at all at first, but then he says it again.

“I love you.”

[aetheternity]

Why you stood them up ft the Aot men

Characters in this work: Eren, Armin, Jean.

Disclaimer: Finally having enough of their shenanigans you stand them up when the two of you were supposed to have a date. Technically speaking this isn't labeled as fem reader but Eren's heavily implies that reader is female at least for his section.

A/N: Its been a minute since I wrote something non sexual and angsty for y'all. Plus I'm a little burnt out with all the smut hopefully this helps me.

Eren:

☆ It was hard to deny that you'd been on the fence from the start when Eren had first asked you out.

☆ The first time, the second time and especially the third.

☆ But in your defense you'd seen the way girls looked at him even some of the guys. The way everyone talked about him and even worse the way his best friend, Mikasa had always been constantly on top of him. Even his friend Jean had warned you about the kind of person he was.

☆ So you'd stayed on the fence and you wouldn't have eventually said yes at all if it weren't for one of the days you'd met him outside of class. He'd stopped all the little text messages he used to send throughout the day stopped giving you little gifts and stopped showing up to your dorm unannounced with food. (Though that last one you couldn't help but enjoy a little.)

☆ It'd been drizzling all day and even now when it'd stopped the smell still lingered and the dark grey cast across the sky. You'd noticed that Eren hadn't shown up for class so you opted to take him your notes so he wouldn't fall behind.

☆ On your way to his dorm however you spotted him seated on a bench, phone in hand aimlessly scrolling through what was probably his messages. Despite the bench dripping in the lasts of the warm rain that'd passed he didn't seem even slightly phased by it. Hoodie snug against his head, covering long untied strands of brown hair.

☆ "Waiting for someone?" You ask as you approach.

☆ He snaps his head in your direction. The ghost of a smile forming and dying on his lips before he's back to staring down at his phone. "Just trying to buy time." He responds

☆ "And to do that means not heading to class." You place your textbook flat on the soaked bench, seating yourself uncomfortably on top of it.

☆ He shook his head, "Didn't really feel like going today."

☆ You sensed a stiffness in his tone and you almost let yourself leave it alone but.. "Why?" It falls off your lips before your brain can catch up.

☆ He lets a sigh leave his nose, shifting so that he could turn his body in your direction. The sudden movement making you squeeze your knees, flinching as those hard sapphire irises land on you. "I know what you think of me."

☆ "Oh."

☆ "I know the girls and guys talk." He promptly continues "I'm not going to tell you to go out with me because I'm not that guy. I am that guy. I just wish there was something I could do to get you to not worry about that stuff but you're allowed to feel however you want so I'm not going to keep pushing it."

☆ "Are you suggesting this is you giving up? Like genuinely?"

☆ He huffs, cracking his knuckles with one hand. "You've made me look so desperate over these past couple weeks." He lightly chuckles

☆ "That's cause you're not used to being told no." You poke at his shoulder.

☆ "But I do.. I really like you.. genuinely."

☆ When you don't speak he falls silent too. A long break in the conversation soon forming as a soft drizzle began to set around you. Pleasant winds sweeping damp leaves into disorganized piles and you watched them for a minute a little aware of how under dressed you were for this weather by the shiver that set in the tail of your spine.

☆ "It doesn't have to be a date but.." You can practically see his metaphorical tail wag as you mumble out a sentence. "Let's go out somewhere nice and we can just spend time together, like friends.. if it goes well.. then who knows."

☆ You must have been shivering a lot because Eren with zero hesitation slipped his hoodie off and wrapped it around your shoulders. Pulling the sides snuggly around you before placing the damp hood atop your head. It was incredibly hard to deny that his hoodie was comforting, filled with his body heat and a scent so perfectly Eren that nicely paired with the rain water.

☆ "I'll text you tonight." He said as he slipped off the bench, he quickly leaned forward giving your forehead a gentle peck walking away faster than you'd ever seen him go.

☆ A bit of flirtatious bickering over text lead the two of you to planning a friend date for a couple weeks after your tests would be over. A nice sort of celebration dinner and then a meet up with all your other friends that same evening for drinks and the sharing of everyone's perceptions of how well they did.

☆ Even though it wasn't a real date a part of you did begin to feel a sense of enthusiasm over the whole ordeal. Girls across campus had always flocked to Eren, even now they still bothered him constantly. But he for once seemed uninterested even walked away immediately, spending almost all of his free time in your dorm room until curfew.

☆ On one of the nights he'd come over the heat had gone out and the two of you opted to share a blanket. It'd been so comforting resting in the heat of his chest and the lull of his heartbeat. So much so that when he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn't refuse. Hand to his cheek, chasing his lips because they tasted of spearmint.

☆ After his departure that night you pondered over the situation. Encasing yourself in his hoodie with the blankets tugged over your head and your face buried in your pillow. Just until you'd worked up enough vulnerability to text him that a normal date might be fine and if he still wanted to consider it. Surprised by his lack of response the rest of the night seeing as he'd always text you goodnight at least.

☆ A day before the date you'd headed over to Jean's room for a little company. Puzzled by a lack of Connie especially at this hour.

☆ "Ah, him and Armin hit up a mixer." Your eyes must have given you away because he nodded before saying, "I'm just as shocked as you are." He handed you a cup of juice and you happily took it cupping the cold glass with both hands.

☆ "So, you and Eren still going on that friend date thing tomorrow?"

☆ Eren had never specified during any of your more recent talks that he'd prefer an actual date like you'd stated in your text the night of your kiss. So it seemed it was going to be a friend date. You'd thought about having a conversation about it with him in person but the idea of prying this further made you uneasy.

☆ "Yeah did he talk with you about it?"

☆ "Not much." Jean replied "I think he talked to Armin about it more than me. Said he had to get that girl he's been showing around campus as of recent after and that he planned on bringing her to the party Sasha planned for our last day of testing."

☆ Your jaw tensed, "Girl? What girl? He never told me about that."

☆ Jean gulps his drink. "How have you not seen her? She's been with him all week, apparently she was thinking of transferring here next year. She's some friend of Armin's. I think her name's Annie?" Jean scrolled through his phone for a couple seconds before flipping it around for you to see the screen. Lo and behold a picture of a girl shorter than Eren, blond hair and blue eyes walking by his side was positioned for you to see. Two backpacks in his grasp. The two of them clearly conversing happily.

☆ "I.. I'm gonna head out. Thanks for the juice, Jean."

☆ His hand snagged yours just as you tugged your belongings up and into your bag. "Hey, you ok?" He asked

☆ "Yup, can you tell Sasha I'm not going to attend the party tomorrow? Thanks." Before he could answer you walked out the door quickly heading back to your dorm building.

☆ The entire next day you stayed locked in your dorm room. Not even bothering to go to class. Your pillow stuffed between your thighs as you stared up at the ceiling.

☆ When you'd finally bothered to flip your phone on at around one pm you were greeted with six missed calls all from Eren. Twelve texts, eight from Eren, three from Jean and one from Sasha. All of which you ignored.

☆ Everyone that wanted you was probably going to try to come knocking on your door anyway.

Armin:

☆ Armin had always been the guy you wanted but could never have. You'd always assumed he'd never want you back.

☆ It wasn't like he had a high social standing though. Average height, ignored a bit by the girls, hung out with mostly guys if not he was off by himself reading a book or making little doodles in his binder. On certain occasions he'd even have a stubby eraser and a stick of charcoal.

☆ Which should've been good for you seeing as you had plenty of time to walk up to him and say Hi or any other introduction but getting past a hi had overcomplicated your brain and you always decided against it.

☆ Fortunately for you fate had found its way to your side and you and him were randomly paired for a group project. (What kind of project?? Well who knows seeing as you'd stopped paying attention after you were paired with Armin.)

☆ After a while of texting the two of you began to find your rhythm. You'd meet for an hour on weekends, Saturday and Sunday seeing as Armin worked Saturdays and studied as much as possible on both days. It started with drafting out plans in the library together, to finishing a pretty solid draft in the coffee house on campus and eventually it became red bull and caffeine in his dorm room till morning.

☆ "Hey, uh I have something to show you." He explained, flipping his book open

☆ You watched as he sifted through page after page seemingly nervous and jittery but he soon stumbled upon it. He shook the loose page in his book out with one hand before presenting it to you. Your pupils nearly blew out as you stared at what had to be the most beautiful drawing you'd ever seen. And it was of you. Each line of your hair and eyes even the shape of your jaw perfectly accentuated. All polished so brilliantly that to the untrained eye it would seem that you didn't have a single flaw. You weren't quite sure when he could've possibly drawn this but judging by your slack expression and hand holding your face it must have been during the class you shared.

☆ "Um." He caught your attention and you realized just how long you'd been staring at it. "I'm sorry, it's kind of creepy.." He lifted his hand to take the piece but you pushed it away.

☆ "This is beautiful, Armin." You said "I love it."

☆ "Really?" His blue irises sparkled with contempt. And it was now that you got a proper look at his hands. The prominent stains from pencil and most likely the charcoal he sometimes carried clear on his wrist and fingertips.

☆ "How long did this take?"

☆ "A few weeks give or take. I knew I wanted to draw you but I didn't know how to ask and what started as a small doodle became.." He pointed to the portrait still in your possession.

☆ "But why me?"

☆ He quickly cleared his throat shuffling with his binder. He flipped it close awkwardly tapping the pages sticking out before admitting, "I kinda like you, Name. And uh.. I haven't liked anyone in a really long time."

☆ Your breath stuck in your throat and before you'd even acknowledged the action you leaned in, gentle lips brushing over his soft cheek. "I like you too." Your whispered tone replied

☆ The tinge of his breath against the top of your head made you skin tingle and he sifted his fingers through yours laying his cheek upon your scalp. "What do we do now?" He questioned after a while. "I haven't confessed to someone in a long time.."

☆ "I'd like to go on a date with you."

☆ "Really?"

☆ You giggle shifting so that you can look into his eyes. Even though you're getting increasingly close to his face he doesn't flinch or back away. "Let's go soon ok."

☆ "Y-yeah."

☆ The weight of his face in your palms makes your skin that much warmer and when you lean into his lips he kisses you back like he's worried you'll break. Or maybe he just can't wrap his brain around you and him yet.

☆ "I'll schedule sometime soon, wait for me a bit." He acknowledges sliding his thumb back and forth against the back of your hand.

☆ After a couple of weeks your group project had been completed and the two of you had time to set a proper time for your date. Or well you'd assumed but you often ended up suggesting a time to him only for him to admit that he already had prior duties in that place.

☆ It took an almost frustrating amount of time but finally, finally an entire month and a half later a spot opened in his schedule for you and the two of you had a proper date set. Well it wasn't as though the two of you hadn't hung out aside from the date you'd been planning it just never seemed to be just the two of you. But now the two of you had completely weathered the storm and the night before the date you'd been so giddy that you'd spent an entire two hours on the phone with him color coordinating so you'd match up until nearly three am.

☆ It was a pretty simple date idea that he'd came up with. Breakfast at the café on campus right before your class started since he didn't have a class till much later. Simple but you couldn't begin to complain.

☆ That morning you'd woken up two ours before the two of you were supposed to meet. Even before your alarm went off and spent an hour and thirty minutes just trying prissing yourself up even though you genuinely did need that much time. After that it took a lot of your restraint to take your time walking but you'd managed to whittle it down to about ten minutes before you'd both agreed on.

☆ The café was warm and inviting mildly crowded so you'd taken a spot by the window, in the perfect view for Armin to see you when he walked up. You tried not staring at your phone wanting to give him you full attention the second he walked in the door but after ten minutes it was near impossible not to check. After thirty minutes worry had struck you hard enough to make a couple calls and by an hour you'd simply left the café with an angry pit forming in your stomach.

☆ That night you received a melody of texts and calls from Armin who briefly explained that he'd overslept and as much as you retained anger you ultimately sought to brush it aside and choose forgiveness.

☆ Glad to know you're not dead at least, You'd texted

☆ Please let me make it up to you please I want to

☆ Same date spot this Saturday You'd told him, you could feel his hesitation through the amount of times the typing sign disappeared on your phone.

☆ One pm good for you? He finally replied

☆ This time you gave him a solid forty minutes counting the time down as you sipped at your straw. Rolling your eyes when not even a text came up on your phone and when he called you that night you were the exact opposite of friendly.

☆ "I really can't properly express how sorry I am. It's just that I had-" And you could practically see his big blue eyes through the receiver.

☆ "I don't want anymore excuses, Armin. Do you even want to go out with me?"

☆ "Yes! Yes of course I do. I'm going to make proper time for you and we will have our date I swear."

☆ The two of you keep up a conversation even though you're in less of a mood and Armin once again promises that the two of you will get together. He plans a date a week later for the two of you to have a library date and as much as you don't want to think it the novelty has completely worn off. You feel past the line of done spending the night before with the frustrating nag just toying with whether or not this would be another situation where you'd end up looking like an idiot.

☆ The morning of, you'd woken up only a couple seconds before the alarm went off and the notification signaling your date with Armin lit up your screen. A grim reminder of what's to come. You knew you didn't have class that morning so your date was the only thing taking up your schedule.

☆ At first you'd tugged your body up from the warm coziness of your bed instantly being assaulted by the nipping morning air. Another minute of genuine thought passed on whether or not leaving your bed could possibly be worth it and you held your head with a tiny groan. Soon after turning your body back to the other side of the bed immediately enjoying the comfort you felt.

Jean:

☆ If you're being completely honest you hadn't been super invested in Jean from the get go.

☆ Don't get you wrong. He was very intelligent, treated you well, great dresser, very funny and well mannered. It was just that even when he'd asked you out you'd felt nothing being around him. And when you'd explained this issue to your friends they'd simply suggested that it was too early to tell seeing as the two of you had only been on one date.

☆ So when he'd texted you (The same night he'd dropped you off which only made you feel worse) to tell you he'd had fun and hoped the two of you could possibly plan another date in the future you'd begrudgingly agreed.

☆ Around a week later Jean had taken you to a farmers market. A very simple date idea but the twist was that he had wanted to enjoy a picnic with you while also being slightly spontaneous so he allowed you to pick out any and everything from the farmers market that you desired. His treat before walking with you through the park, setting up the blanket he'd kept in his car, a picnic basket with a couple other food items, a small rose between the two of you and all the food you'd brought scattered between.

☆ "What'd you think? Not bad for a thrown together date."

☆ You smiled, "It's lovely, don't be so hard on yourself."

☆ He sighed folding his legs, reaching out for the apple cider to pour it into the two glasses he'd packed. "I hope it didn't get too flat." He muttered handing it over before taking his own. "It's such an amazing day today, though.. it's not nearly as amazing as you."

☆ A genuine smile crested over your lips at the soft pink dappling his cheeks. Your eyes absent mindedly trailing over his body. The loose beige shirt he was wearing perfectly accenting his biceps and his overall lean form. The dark green of his belt fitting nicely with the rest of his aesthetic. He was gorgeous so dammed perfect and yet-

☆ "Like what you see?" He grinned, inching closer to you to slink an arm over your shoulders.

☆ "This is really nice, Jean."

☆ "You promise you're enjoying this?" He asked "Because I was thinking about that movie you'd been telling me you never had time to go and see with your friends so I was thinking we could go soon. I mean, I already bought the tickets so hopefully this weekend is good for you. Probably should've made sure you could though-"

☆ "Let's do it." You cut his rambling off. His breath fluttered over your lip as he pressed the quickest peck to your lips, handing you some blueberries he'd purchased for you at the market.

☆ That night you'd facetimed Hange while Levi and Erwin were in the background and at first the mild complaints from Levi and the deep laughter from Erwin made you feel a little bit better but after a while-

☆ "Why don't I like him?" You grumbled as you held your phone above your head. "I mean he's everything you said he'd be Hange! And yet I can't feel a thing."

☆ "It is still technically early." Hange replied

☆ "They've had two dates by this point I'm sure things are only going to get worse. After a while it'll just be Name leading Jean on." Levi interjected

☆ "You can't be sure that'll be the case." Erwin butted in

☆ "Well no.. Name, if you're sure you really don't like Jean it might be time to tell him." Hange said empathically

☆ "But I don't want to break his heart."

☆ "Better now than at the wedding." Levi joked lifting his mug up to his lips in the background.

☆ "Levi." Erwin started

☆ "Don't worry Erwin, In Levi's own twisted mind that was helpful." Hange retorted earning a glare from Levi that made you snicker. "Do it as soon as possible before things stray too out of hand."

☆ On the Saturday you'd agreed to hanging out with Jean on it'd rained. You'd stared at your phone all morning scrolling through the texts Jean had sent you telling you about the seating arrangements in the theater, the snacks he'd brought you in advance (all your favorites) even the time of the showing. The longer you'd pictured that look of sheer disappointment he'd wear when you finally admitted how you felt the worse your stomach pains became.

☆ So you didn't leave the house that day. Just curled up into a ball on the couch allowing the rain pattering over your window to be the only noise you'd listen to for a while.