#colt is cool too

[loveofdetail]

it’s so weird to be lurking the deathloop subreddit/discord and see people call Fia things like “absolute evil”

yeah she’s a terrible person, they’re all terrible people. she’s abusive to Charlie, no argument there. but the idea that she’s objectively more evil than e.g. Dorsey or even Frank is just laughable. god forbid a female villain be mean to her (also villain) boyfriend!

[edge--effects]

childhood friends you drifted apart from will grow up into THE most random people

[wintersoldeer]

hey long time no see pony pictures

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Can you please do hcs for the gang with a clumsy S/O?

A/N: Hey there! Thanks for requesting <3 you're super clumsy (love you anyways 💚) so I had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy it!

DARRY CURTIS

It’s both a blessing and a curse to be clumsy and dating Darry, there’s pros and cons here guys

Pro, he’s super big and super strong and will never have any problems picking you up if you’ve fallen or carrying you around

I totally see him telling you you’re safer in his arms than on your own feet and then carrying you around when he’s in a playful mood

Con, this man stresses out so much and he worries so much about you and your clumsy habits

Especially if you get hurt, he’s all huffy as he patches you up but he will kiss wherever you’ve hurt yourself and murmur reassurances the whole time

Will tease you for being clumsy? But it’s loving teasing, he’s just messing around with you and having fun <3 

SODAPOP CURTIS

He’s clumsy-ish too? But his clumsy only adds an extra endearing quality to him-

Soda’s compared to a colt in the book, very excitable and I can definitely see him like jumping around so fast he knocks stuff over and little things like that 

Sodapop, ever the gentlemen, is going to offer to carry everything for you so you have less of a chance to drop it

Like his brother, I firmly believe that he’d just scoop you up instead of letting you walk

The image of him carrying you, a bridal carry ‘cause we’re romantic, down the street because you tripped over yourself playing football in the lot and rolled your ankle-

He’d sit you on the edge of the tub and crouch down in front of you, wrapping your ankle deftly, cracking jokes and grinning up at you with that movie-star smile of his

PONYBOY CURTIS

I feel like Ponyboy’s very clumsy? But it’s like an ugly-duckling kind of clumsy

Like he’s only clumsy because he hasn’t really grown into himself yet and once he starts hitting some of his later teen years, he’s pretty suave-ish

So he’s used to the clumsiness and kind of tunes into your clumsiness?

That doesn’t make sense so I’ll explain- Pony’s so used to your clumsiness that he knows when you’re going to run into things even if he’s not looking at you 

Like he can be laying on the couch, fully engrossed in a book and you walk in and he’ll immediately say something like “wall” and you learn to stop, step away from the the thing Ponyboy says and continue on

That’s his way of looking out for you, y’know? He tries his hardest to prevent any injuries your clumsiness may cause

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas with a clumsy S/O is actually the funniest and sweetest thing I’ve ever thought of

You’ve got Dally, calm, cool, and collected, leaning against the edge of buildings with a cigarette between his lips as he stares people into submission

And then there’s you, stumbling over the curb and falling almost onto your face when you tried to join him

You kind of ruin his ice-cold, bad boy image because he’s always having to reach out to catch you from falling and stooping to pick up what you’ve dropped but he can’t really bring himself to care

You’re a clumsy doll, but you’re his doll, and he thinks you’re awfully cute

He’s gonna roll his eyes and blow smoke in your face when you do something stupid like trip over your own feet and run into things but he does it all with the fondest smile

JOHNNY CADE

I think you’re gonna worry Johnny a lot, the poor boy is constantly keeping an eye on you and trying to lead you away from danger

But it's almost an exasperated kind of worry? Johnnycake just doesn’t understand how someone could be this clumsy

You drop things, run into stationary furniture, choke on air and trip over your own feet for crying out loud-

Johnny’s doing his best to keep you alive, okay?

This boy presses soft kisses to all of your random little bruises and you can’t tell me that he doesn’t

He winces every time he hears you fall and will call out to see if you’re alright, waiting patiently for you to reply before he goes to check on you 

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit is a clumsy mess. He just is. No room for debate here friends :)

He’s tall and lanky and sometimes a little drunk and he’s clumsy

The two of you are constantly holding onto each other so you don’t fall over but half the time you end up stumbling into each other's arms

But you guys are cute clumsy, you try to help each other out and it’s just really cute okay?

Both of you are constantly running into doors and dropping things

The gang just rolls their eyes whenever you guys trip over things or trip over each other-

STEVE RANDLE

Super worried part two! He’s concerned when it comes to your clumsiness and is worried about your safety <3

Will do his best to patch up any of your injuries but can’t help it if he’s a little rough, he makes up for it in kisses

I don’t think Steve would tease you for being clumsy?

Like- the occasional little remark about he can’t believe you did what you did, but he’s not gonna tease you like Dal or Curly or Tim

He thinks you’re cute baby! Really cute! Loves the way you smile sheepishly when you catch something you drop before it hits the ground

Steve just loves you okay? No matter what, no matter how clumsy, he just really loves you

TIM SHEPARD

To preface, Tim is the kind of guy who would watch you fall, not even flinch, and then calmly ask if you’re okay

If you are, he’ll silently offer you a hand to pick you back up with a wide smirk on his face

If you’re not? He’ll crouch down to your level and look over you, determining how bad it is before helping you back up

He’s surprisingly gentle if he has to patch up your cuts and scrapes and anything else you do to yourself? Very gentle hands

Tim’s gonna make so many jokes about your clumsiness but that’s a him only thing

Maybe he’ll let Curly and Angela get away with a joke or two, but if anyone says anything else, they’re getting a cold look from the head Shepard

CURLY SHEPARD

The teasing is ruthless I tell you, absolutely ruthless and you need to learn to expect nothing else from Curly

All of the teasing terms and his jokes, he thinks he’s funny guys

If you’re the kind of clumsy person who has a tendency to walk into furniture and door frames (that’s me guys), Curly is going to laugh at you  

But in reality, Curly thinks you’re super cute, he can’t keep back the soft smile when he sees you catch yourself from falling and you just look so proud of yourself

Wants to hold your hand when you’re walking and always makes sure to put you on the inside of the sidewalk when you’re around town, keeping you away from the edge so there’s a lesser chance of you falling into traffic

He makes sure that there’s always a handful of extra bandaids and stuff at the Shepard household so in case you end up cutting yourself or something while you’re over, he can help you out

[toriz0]

a timeline of events

- cm punk may or may not have told colt cabana to gtfo - hangman page is like hey man not cool - punk wins the world title from hangman and along with ftr is set for summer of punk 3 - immediately injures himself jumping into the crowd - jon moxley carries the title while he's injured and proves he's the ace of aew - punk comes back 4 months later, calls hangman a little bitch for thinking it’s not cool - hangman is too busy yelling at the dark order to whip out their dicks to respond - punk is squashed by mox in 3 minutes - punk says he wasn't actually hurt he just sucks - ace steel, man unknown to anyone before this, says fuck on tv and cuts a hell of a promo hyping punk up - punk says that in chicago, they eat people (foreshadowing) - punk beats mox for the title in a good ass match but injures himself again - punk tries to bait a reporter into asking a question and when the reporter doesn't play along he goes on a 20 minute rehearsed tirade at the post show presser saying he hates working with young people and target managers and that colt cabana is a fugly slut and that he wants to take over aew like a supervillain - during this tony khan the president of the company is sitting beside him having a dissociative episode - says that if you want to talk to him, meet him in his locker room - the young bucks, fresh off being crowned the inaugural trios champs, bring the company’s main hr guy and the lawyer to punk's room and superkick the doors down - punk immediately clobbers matt jackson - nick jackson tries to stop him but is hit by a chair by ace steel, who is terrified of the young bucks for some reason - kenny omega tries to get punk's dog out of the room so steel bites him - brawl lasts 6 minutes and involves every coach and also brandon cutler - punk and the elite forced to relinquish their titles - mox was just about to go on vacation

[warmblanketwhump]

your stuff is incredible! can i request something on whumpee-turned-caretaker? like whumpee just got over the flu, when caretaker catches it. how do they react to being comforted and cared for? thanks, ily!

thank you so much, anon! because i’m dumb and things got away from me, I’ll be using this as my first @sicktember prompt! 

sicktember 2022 day 1: “do you know how to take care of a sick person?” 

When A wakes that morning, they’re suddenly aware of feeling more human than they have in a week. Sure, they won’t be running marathons anytime soon, and their voice is still a little scratchy and hoarse. But they can walk more than 10 feet without coughing, their head is clear, and their limbs are finally rid of the chilled, leadened feeling that kept them aching and huddled in bed for days.

Pushing the covers aside, they slowly make their way down the stairs on legs as shaky as a newborn colt, excited to share the good news with the very person who’s been at their bedside the whole time. 

“B, I’m happy to report after nearly a week of being down for the count, I’m finally-“ A stops short. B’s not downstairs yet. That’s strange.

A turns on their heel and goes back upstairs, pausing at B’s door to knock quietly and call out their name. A only hears a weak cough and a groan, so they gently push the door open. Huh. Not in here either. Though they do see a half dozen tissues scattered on the floor and nightstand, plus several extra blankets tangled in B’s comforter.

Then, another rattling cough. A turns and realizes the sound came from the bathroom, and they softly pad their socked feet over and push the door fully open.

B’s sitting on the floor of the bathroom, hair mussed and shoulders slumped over, huddled in their bathrobe. They look half asleep, staring blankly ahead. 

“B?” A pokes their head further in. “You okay?”

B jolts, startled, and hurriedly rubs their eyes. “A. You scared me.”

“You didn’t hear me calling?”

B shrugs limply. “I….don’t know.” Their voice sounds thin and crackly, like they’ve been coughing all night. 

“I asked if you were okay.”

B shudders and wraps their arms around themselves. “Slept awful last night. All I wanted was a hot shower to get warm.”

“And…how is that going?”

B shivers again, coughing into their elbow. “Changed my mind once I got in here, but was too tired to get back up. So I’m....here now.” 

Alarm bells go off in A’s head as they flash back to their own experience over a week ago, when they were so cold and weak at dinner that B carried them up to bed. They shuffle across the tile and sneak a hand on B’s forehead before they can lean away, and the damp, overheated skin confirms their suspicions.

“B….I think you’ve got what I had.” The smallest stone of guilt settles in A’s stomach—B practically worked themselves to the bone caring for A day and night, making sure they had everything they needed. But those long sleepless nights and unintentional self-neglect must’ve caught up with them while their immune system’s walls were down.

B slumps to the side, letting their head rest on the cool tile of the tub. “Not possible. Got the flu shot, remember?”

“B, that’s not a sure thing and you know it.” A scoots closer, placing their hands around B’s shoulders and pulling them close in a hug, and B just closes their eyes and leans into it. A can feel the fever from their forehead through their shirt, and they cradle the back of B’s head, gently stroking their hair. “Come on. Back to bed we go.”

A hoists B up, wrapping an arm around their waist and guiding them back to their bedroom. Once’s B’s seated on the edge of their bed, A doubles over, hands on their knees as they catch their breath. They were feeling better, but carrying B’s dead weight was more physical activity than they had done in a while.

Then, A feels ice-cold fingers circling their wrist, and they look up to see B’s worry-filled eyes. “A, don’t push it. You’re sick.”

A snorts breathlessly. “No offense, but I think you’ve stolen my title.”

“I’m serious.” B looks at them with big, feverish eyes, and they look like they’re about to cry. “You were really sick. I don’t want you to get bad again.”

“B, I’m gonna be okay. I promise. Let me take care of you for a change.” 

“Do you know how to take care of a sick person?” B’s nervously wringing their hands, and A can see the panic that’s rising in them. The poor thing doesn’t know how to shut down the part of their brain that’s been consumed by caring for A. 

“B, have a little faith. Besides, I learned from the best.” A winks at B, then gestures at the blankets, which B bonelessly slumps into. After coaxing them out of their bathrobe (which was met with a dirty look from B), A tucks them under the top sheet, duvet cover, and extra blanket. 

“I taught you too well,” B grumbles, pulling a quilt up to their nose.

A smiles sadly - if there ever was a time to care for B, the knowledge couldn’t be any fresher. “Medicine’s next, right?”

“A, I’m fine.”

“B, who gave you this flu?”

“…You.”

“So I don’t think I have to tell you these next three things, but I will anyways. One, since you just spent a week taking care of me, I owe you. Two, since I gave you this plague, it is completely my fault that this is happening.” A softens their voice for the last one. “And three, you’re sick. And everyone deserves a little TLC when they feel awful. So tell me how you feel.”  

B moans softly, shrugging their shoulders. “I don’t know. It all just aches. Moving hurts. My throat hurts. My skin hurts.” They cough into their sweatshirt-clad elbow, then shift in bed and moan. “I didn’t know that was possible.” They shudder weakly, clutching the blankets to themselves. “And I’ve got chills and goosebumps all over. That’s why I wanted the hot shower.”

A’s heart cracks a little—they remember all of this. The miserable aching in their bones and joints. The constant shivering and chills that no amount of blankets could touch. The coughing and congestion that made it hard to breathe. 

B shifts in bed and moans, curling into a smaller ball. “Did it really hurt this bad? All the time?”

A nods. “All over. It was worst in my shoulders.”

B groans in affirmation. “How did you survive this?” 

A pushes back the hair on B’s forehead, gently stroking it off their fevered brow. “With the same help I’m gonna give you.” 

First order of business is temperature taking. After an agonizingly long wait, the digital readout reveals a 102.8 fever.

“How bad is it?” B croaks.

“I’ve…seen better,” A admits. They’ve dragged in a whole arsenal of things, and from the box they pull out a bottle of flu-specific medicine. Helping B sit up, they gently hold the small plastic cup to their lips, helping B choke down the sickly sweet medicine that will hopefully reduce their temperature.

Once they’re done, B crawls back under the blankets and pulls them up to their nose. They can’t do much more than watch as A gets the humidifier running, gets a glass of water and some crackers for the side table, replenishes the tissues—everything they could think of that B had done for them.

When B coughs so hard they can’t catch their breath, A helps them sit up and gently claps their back, helping them breathe and whispering soothing words. When B’s bones ache so badly that shifting in bed makes them whimper, A’s there, gently rubbing their legs, their shoulders, their tense back muscles. When the shivering starts up again and B’s teeth start rattling, A brings a hug, a warm blanket, and a heating pad.

“Keep this on low. It’ll relax your muscles and help with the shakes.” A eases it below the covers, tucking the blanket up. “But don’t let me catch you turning it up—I’m only doing this because you’re so miserable.”

“A, I’m serious.” B’s voice is barely more than a rasp now, even as they clutch the heating pad to their chest. “Don’t work yourself so hard.“

“But that’s what you did for me.” A’s voice is gentle, but there’s a tinge of frustration—B just won’t let themselves be cared for.

B tries to sigh, but it just triggers another violent fit of coughs. “Just…don’t wear yourself out, okay?” 

“But it’s fine if you do it?” The frustration bubbles up in their voice, and to their surprise they feel angry tears pricking their eyes.

“No, no.” B shakes their head, rubbing their nose with their sleeve. “A, I’m grateful, really. This is coming out all wrong.”

A stops sorting the cold medicine in the box, still a little peeved, but willing to hear B out.

“A, if this is what you had….it’s gonna be rough for a few days. I’m gonna get worse before I get better. And you were so sick, and some nights I didn’t sleep…” their voice cracks on the last word, and they swallow hard, trying to keep their composure. “And…I just don’t want you to work yourself as hard as you can, because I know you will, but it’s different because you’re just getting better, and if you get sick I can’t help you….”

They’ve devolved into feverish rambling, and A has to place a hand on each of B’s shoulders to hush them. “Ssshhhhhh. B, I hear you. Take a breath, please.”

It’s effort and takes a few coughing jags, but A finally sees the wild, feverish look in their eyes fade.

“B, I promise I won’t go overboard. I just want to help you, okay? But I won’t do anything to put myself at risk. Promise.” A musters all the genuineness they can, and under the weight of the promise, they see B visibly relax, like they’ve finally stopped fighting against whatever A’s going to do.

Eventually, they compromise. A is only allowed to get up and get things for B every hour, and in between, they have to stay in bed next to B so they keep their promise.

(They think B just doesn’t want to be alone and wants an excuse to keep A close. But A’s not about to tell B that they know.)

By that evening, there’s been ups and down. B’s breathing is better thanks to the early action with the humidifier, but their fever still stays stubbornly above 100, even with medicine. They’ve found an ebb and flow to how A can safely care for them, and B was even bold enough to ask for a second blanket—which A paired with a cool cloth for their forehead.

As B drifts into a fevered sleep, A gently strokes their hair, and B leans into the comforting touch of A’s hand. At B’s request, A had also gotten a blanket to wrap up in, and they’d been drinking water with B to stay hydrated themselves. Truthfully, A thought the knowledge that they were taking care of themselves helped B relax a little more in their fevered state.

As evening falls, A knows it could be a rough night ahead. And sure, it wasn’t ideal that they were still recuperating themselves. But B needed them. And they vowed that they’d do their best to see the both of them through.

[angelasscribbles]

New Beginnings: A Choices Prompt Story

This is for the prompt challenge hosted by @choicesprompts. Anyone who hasn't seen the prompt and wants to play along, go here.

Series: Ride or Die Fanfiction

Fandom: Ride or Die

Pairing: Logan x Ellie

Rating: G

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 1,259

A/N: I know I already submitted one, but I had two ideas for this prompt. I decided to write them both.

My other stuff: Master List.

The cool wind pushes my hair back as I walk along the familiar path, every step taking me deeper into the past. It’s been years since I’ve been here, everything is different, everything is the same.

I’m not paying attention to the present as I walk, I’m too lost in memories of the past. That’s why I don’t notice the other person walking toward me until I hear a familiar voice call my name.

I freeze. It can’t be. What are the odds? I lift my head and my eyes dart wildly around before finally landing on a face I’d recognize anywhere, even now.

“It’s you.”

“Hey troublemaker.” He gives me that lopsided grin that has haunted my dreams for the last decade.

“Logan!” My breath stops, I freeze to the spot. My heart starts pounding in my chest. How? How does he still affect me like this all these years later?

I didn’t expect to find him here, but maybe I should have. The spot where Kaneko’s garage used to be is empty now. The entire block has changed. At least, part of it has. One side of the street is exactly how I remember it. The corner store, the donut shop, the car wash down at the end. The other side is completely new. Nothing I remember still stands, torn down, demolished, the town has moved on. The Chinese take out place is now a cell phone store, the massage parlor is gone, there’s a laundry mat there now. And the gaping hole where the garage used to be mirrors the one in my heart.

I haven’t moved on. I should have, years ago. I finished college, moved from one coast to the other, again, for law school. Worked here and there the first two years after I got my Doctor of Jurisprudence. I just moved back home to open my own law firm. I put a down payment on a house. My dad offered to let me move back home, save money, have home cooked meals when I get home from work. But I couldn’t do it, I can’t. I still blame him for a lot of what happened. I’m here, in this town, because of his failing health. That’s the best I can do for him. Things are still strained between us.

I’ve had many relationships since my formative one. Most of them transient, a few of them longer lasting, but they always end for the same reason. None of them are him. I’ve tried, I really have. There was even a misguided year long fling with Colt right after I’d moved back to the west coast to attend UCLA. Colt somehow made me feel closer to Logan. It wasn’t fair to him; it wasn’t fair to me, and it ended with bitterness and recriminations.

I know what my reasons are for being back here, in this town. I know what drew me to this particular city block this afternoon. But I don’t understand why he’s here, how he’s here.

“Say something Ellie.” His voice is soft, beseeching. He looks nervous, off kilter, vulnerable, and I want to run to him, but I don’t.

“Where have you been for the last ten years?” I sound argumentative, even to my own ears. I don’t care. He broke me. I can’t be broken again. I won’t.

“Prison, for a while. Your dad didn’t tell you?”

“What? No!”

Something hardens in his features, “I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t suppose you got my letters, either?”

“What?” I feel tears spring unbidden to my eyes.

“I wanted to get out from under it all. I turned myself in, cut a deal, turned state’s evidence. I ran for the first two years, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted out from under all of it. I wanted to come back to you a functioning member of society. I did two years then spent another year in a halfway house. I got my GED; I got into community college and got a two-year degree in automotive technology.”

I do the math in my head, “What about the last three years?”

He watches me with a guarded expression before quietly replying, “I’ve been here. Waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” I feel a lump form in my throat. What is he saying?

“You.” He looks away, unable or unwilling to meet my eyes.

“Me?” It was true that I’d been bouncing all over the country for the last couple of years, and I’d been busy. Too busy to bother to update social media. Has he really been here, all this time, waiting for me to come back?

“Yeah. I have a job and an apartment now. I come down here every day, just because. I’ve run into Colt a few times.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

Colt. That fucking bastard. He has my contact information. He could have told me Logan was in town, but of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t.

“So…what? You moved back here for me? You come down here every day on the off chance that one day you’d run into me?”

A flush creeps up his neck, “I drive by your dad’s house sometimes too. God, I’m sorry. That makes me sound like a stalker, doesn’t it?”

“Logan, I….” I feel so many emotions well up inside me, tears gather in the corners of my eyes. This is literally everything I’ve wanted to hear for the last ten years. I’ve played out so many fantasies about this moment in my head, but I never thought it would actually happen.

“It’s ok, Ellie. I get it. It was ten years ago. I’m sure you’ve moved on. You’re probably married or something. I just…I just wanted to see you, know that you’re ok. I’ll go.”

He turns to leave, and the air rushes out of my world, the sun stops shinning. Again. “Logan, wait!”

He turns back, a guarded, but hopeful, expression on his face. “Yeah?”

I shrug, “Have dinner with me? Catch up?”

It’s a start. A beginning, maybe. It’s something, after years of nothing.

A hesitant smile pulls his lips up, “Really?”

“Really.” I finally move, closing the distance between us. The moment I’m within reach, he pulls me into his arms, hugging me tighter than I’ve ever been hugged.

“I’ve missed you so much!” He whispers into my hair.

I return the hug with just as much vigor, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. I pull away and wipe at my face. I take his hand in mine and tug him down the street, “Come on. I know a place.”

I check him out as we walk. He’s older. So am I. His hair is shorter, his smile is the same. The smile that’s haunted my dreams for the last decade. His face, his eyes, the callouses on his roughened hands, all the things that have taken up residence in my memory and made lasting relationships with other men impossible. It’s him. It’s always been him. A sudden certainty washes over me, the low-level anxiety that has buzzed insistently in the background of my mind, of my life, is suddenly just gone as a sense of rightness floods through me.

I smile up at him as we reach the restaurant and he pulls the door open for me, “I’m not married.”

His smile broadens, “That’s good news for me. You knew the boy I was, Ellie. I hope you let me show you the man I’ve become.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

~~~~~~~

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[3rensgf]

stupid/annoying, but endearing, things they do in a relationship eren, armin, jean, connie, erwin, levi, reiner, bertholdt, porco, zeke, colt, hanji, mikasa, sasha, annie, pieck

word count: 2.3k

warnings: one mention of sex in erens, reader uses makeup in jeans, mentions of injuries and dilf!reiner in reiners

notes: this is a gn!reader. there are mentions of makeup being used, but i feel like any gender can use makeup. it's not even anything serious like a beat face. just some lip gloss n mascara. chapstick too but thats not makeup. it's just one line, so you can skip over it if you would like to!

✩ eren bites you. its not even in a sexual way, he just likes to bite. they’re like a second form of kissing to him. you could be chilling together on the couch watching a movie, and he’ll just chomp on your shoulder. even when you were trying to focus on something, he swings by, bites then leaves. eren has no shame, so he does it in front of your friends too. you could be having a normal conversation with mikasa and he’ll just bite you, then the two of you carry on as if it was normal. it’s not normal. but you love it. sometimes you bite him back too. but only in private.

✩ armin gives you random things he finds. armin likes to go out and explore, with or without you. when he comes back after an adventure you opted out of, he always has something for you he found. a rock, a seashell or a cool flower are just some of the things he gets for you. if he can’t find something, he finds a gift shop to get you something instead, saying, “well, (y/n), i did find it in the gift shop.” he always looks so proud giving it to you, rambling about the story of how he found your gift. you have a small box tucked away with all the treasures he gives you.

✩ jean steals your things. whenever he comes over, he likes to mooch off your possessions. if he’s spending the night at your place and needs a shower, he’s using your shampoo, conditioner and body wash. if his lips are chapped, he swipes your lip balm to use on himself. one time you even walked in on him trying your mascara and lip gloss. another time he had your clothes on his giant frame. but he always replaces whatever he uses, venmoing you within the next few days with some cash and a sorry note. “sorry for using ur lip balm baby, buy some more <3” with $20 attached to it. you tell him that lip balm doesn’t even cost that much, but he tells you to treat yourself to lunch with the extra money.

✩ connie makes plans without letting you know beforehand. at 3am, you are woken up by an influx of messages and calls from your boyfriend. in your sleepy state you go to answer him, only to be told to get dressed and come out. he’s right outside of your house and hungry. you remind him it’s very early in the morning and you both have class. “but i’m hungry and craving burgers,” he repeats. you have no choice to get in the car with him. this can happen throughout the day, not just early in the morning. one time he whisked you away in the middle of your online class because he didn’t tell you he bought tickets to a movie showing in 30 minutes. the memories you share on these spontaneous dates are always your favorite ones with him.

✩ erwin buys you whatever you like in bulk. it’s not even an exaggeration when you say bulk. you mention one thing to him, and the next day there are boxes upon boxes sitting on your kitchen counter. “these oranges taste pretty good,” you mumble to yourself as you peel your 2nd one. erwins sharp ears hear this, and first thing in the morning he’s off to buy multiple bags of your supposed favorite oranges. it takes you days, sometimes weeks, to finish whatever he decided to buy you. you always tell him he doesn’t need to buy so much, but he never listens. though, you always appreciate how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes.

✩ levi cleans up for you and ruins your organization. it’s always a blessing when someone else decides to take on the burden of cleaning for you, and you thought you hit the jackpot with a boyfriend who loved to clean, clean, clean. but it could get annoying when you suddenly couldn’t find anything you placed anywhere. if you’re anything like me, you’re messy but organized. you know where things are. when levi comes to clean, he places things where he thinks they should go. you’re sent on a wild goose chase looking for your pencil case, only for it to be in a completely different drawer than the one you usually kept it in. despite this behavior, it’s always nice to come home from a long day from school to see your desk organized. what was once a mess of papers and other supplies have been filed into their correct places, the table wiped down from any lingering coffee stains and your supplies being organized in a way so you knew where everything was. sometimes there’d be a plate of fruit with the note, “good luck on your exams,” written in your boyfriends neat writing beside it.

✩ reiner coddles you too much. whenever you express any sort of discomfort, reiner is always rushing to your side. “are you hurt? do you need medical attention? how many fingers am i holding up?” he asks, checking you for any cuts or bruises. thank you, honey, but i’m fine. just bumped into the counter. despite that, he’s dragging you over to the bathroom to fix up your imaginary injuries. you always find it a bit much when you’re fine. it’s during the times where you’re actually hurt where you learn to appreciate it. he’s so gentle cleaning your cuts, kissing them softly once they’re dressed. you wonder if he’d be like that with your future children.

✩ bertholdt is too nervous around you. it’s been years since the two of you got together, and he still refuses to make eye contact with you. his hands get sweaty and shake when you attempt to hold his hand. he always stumbles over his words when speaking to you as he tries to find the right words to say. he even blushes when he introduces you to other people as his significant other! you remind bertholdt over and over again that he doesn’t need to be so shy around you. but you cant help but coo over him showing up for your date, flustered mess and thrusting flowers into your hand. “they reminded me of you,” he said quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. you giggle and press a kiss to his hot cheeks.

✩ porco is too cocky for his own good. he’s always parading around the house, boasting about his latest achievements. he beat colt in a video game colt was a supposed god in. he can throw a baseball farther than zeke. he can run faster than pieck. if he’s taller than you, he's always making fun of you for being shorter than him. if you’re taller, you’re not exempt from his wrath either. he’s boasting about how he’s perfect height to not hit his head on doorways. he never goes as far as to hurt your feelings, always knowing when to stop. though he has a big ego, he would let it crash and burn just to see you smile after beating him at smash bros. you laugh and taunt him, happy you beat him in one thing. he doesn’t mind, instead watching you with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

✩ zeke forces you to work out with him. and it’s not like in the afternoon to help you stretch out. it’s not light yoga or a couple minutes on the treadmill. no, this man wakes you up at ass crack in the morning to take you on a 5 mile hiking trip. you barely have any time to register what is happening around you before you’re already standing at the start of the trail with your gear. “come on! we can’t slack off!” he says, clapping his hands together. the sun is beating down on you and your feet hurt, but this man doesn’t let you stop for a break. “we’re almost there,” he says. your complaining goes out the window when he shows you the view at the top. its one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. hiking up long ass trails to see beautiful views with your boyfriend was so worth it in the end.

✩ colt accidentally turns your dates into babysitting sessions. you show up at his house with the promise of a good time, only to be met with a guilty looking colt and his little brother falco behind him. “sorry,” he says sheepishly, “gabi got sick with the cold, so i couldn’t drop him off there. i hope you don’t mind him staying.” you hide your disappointment behind a wide smile, nodding enthusiastically as to not hurt either of their feelings. you just wanted to spend some alone time with your boyfriend, and it would have to wait. hanging out with falco wasn’t actually that bad. the three of you had an amazing time together, watching tv, playing games and even baking together. if you hate kids, you can’t bring yourself to hate falco; he’s just the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you and falco are already asking colt when the three of you can hang out again when you have to go back home.

✩ hanji is always talking. you don’t discourage them from talking about their interests. they’re very passionate about the things they love, and can’t help talking about them. its like the scene where hanji kept eren up all night talking about titans. when you’re trying to focus on something or go to sleep, hanji is just yapping away. you’re honestly amazed at their ability to never run out of things to say about the most mundane things. hell, one time they talked for an hour and a half about a building color they saw when they were out one day. but hanji just looked so happy when talking. their face would break out into a huge grin, and their arms would fly around as they told their story. it was too cute for you to tell them to stop.

✩ mikasa hovers too much. every corner you turn, every place you go to, mikasa is following. she claims she’s not clingy, but in reality she is. it’s like a cat who hates affection, but needs to be in the same room as you at all times. you don’t mind her following you into the bedroom or living room or kitchen. you had to draw a line when she tried to follow you into the bathroom. even when you’re out, she’s always following you around. you tell her it’s okay to break off from you and spend some time by herself, but she always shakes her head and follows you to your next destination. you’re always grateful for her hovering when a group of drunk people try hitting on you, whistling and telling you they’ll give you a good time. but one look at your girlfriend who showed up from out of nowhere, and they’re running away with their tails between their legs.

✩ sasha eats your food. she can’t help it. she likes to snack. she’s always hungry. and you get that. to stop things like this from happening, you have separate places to keep your food. just so sasha and you have your favorite snacks and takeout separated. you respect the rule, but your girlfriend seems to lose her reading skills when hungry, one too many times you have walked in on her with her hand deep into a bag of your chips, something you’ve been waiting to eat all week when you were supposed to watch that new horror movie on netflix with her. you huff and puff and retreat to your bedroom. sasha comes back after a few hours, looking upset with tons and tons of snacks in her arms. “i’m sorry i ate your chips,” she frowns. she sets down all the food she got on your bed. “i got all these snacks you liked as an apology. and 3 bags of your favorite chips.” you could never stay mad at her cute face.

✩ annie complains about spending time with you. “i like my alone time,” she says, brushing you off when you asked why she didn’t want to watch a movie with you. some people were introverted, preferring to spend time by themselves rather than with someone else. you were like that too; you had your moments where you didn’t feel like being around your girlfriend. but it became an annoying problem when she constantly shot down your attempts to hang out with you. when she finally agrees, she’s always finding something to complain about. but during important dates or when you’re not in the best mood, she’s always the first to remind you or initiate a hang out/date. she shuts her mouth and enjoys her time with you, not one criticism or groan leaving her lips. she would never admit it, but being around you made her so happy.

✩ pieck is always sleeping. you have to wait a few hours to get a text or call back from pieck because she’s always dozing off somewhere. “sorry sweets,” she yawns into the mic, “was taking a nap. need something?” good luck trying to reach your girlfriend during an emergency. when you come home with takeout for dinner because neither of you wanted to cook, she’s sleeping at the dinner table. when you’re watching a movie she wanted to watch, she’s snoring away, curled up at the end of the couch. during lectures you share together, she has her head in her arms and has the audacity to ask you for your notes in the end. and it’s not like she’s not getting enough sleep, no. she gets her recommended 8 hours of sleep and then some. it’s nice to have a sleepy girlfriend, though, when you’re dead tired from living. you drag your feet into the bedroom to see her about to take her nth nap for the day. she notices your zombie-like state and opens up her arms for you. the two of you cuddle and nap together, sleeping the stress away.

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[slaygentford]

does the fact that dean wears (and enjoys) a nightgown in scoobynatural count towards his female coding?

this weird thing happened with dean where they wrote in a bit where dean likes girly stuff -- you know, cuz it’s funny? cuz it’s funny the macho guy has a kink about wearing satin. haha, that’s edgy for the cw. listens to Taylor swift. funny. and if it was Chris hemsworrth or Jason momoa it’d read like that. but the thing is. come here. listen to me. the thing is it never read like that with dean. it never fucking read like that. not once. it ended up just highlighting how much he performs things which AREN’T the things he actually likes. and my question to you is why. why did it always land just queer of center? is it frequency? was it played too much? are we really so vapid and it’s just because of how he looks? was it some strange nuance he telegraphed in his acting without even meaning to? how did dean Winchester come to be? he is not what he was meant to be. he is not that thing at all. dean’s the comedy man. the sidekick. dean isn’t the protagonist, isn’t meant to be who we relate to -- that’s sam college boy, that’s sam overcoming the inner darkness. what was dean supposed to be? what was dean supposed to be? John Wayne wannabe, cool kid, hot horror movie girl; slut, settle-down type, childish, cool, just cool. too many things so he turned into water. 

the horrifying thing about dean is that he is so earnestly written. the room had some cognizance dean was a power fantasy, had some cognizance that there were efforts being made to shade him and that they were perfunctory. believe me, this writer said here. believe me when I tell you everything you are looking at is true. come with us, it’s a western. it’s a road movie. it’s a steel horse. live in that fantasy. but you can’t have the biker boots and the bowie knife and the colt and the smile and the pack of reds. no one has the biker boots and the bowie knife, etc. and the more you tell us someone does (can must will) have them, the more we look for cracks, and the more we see them. it skirts the uncanny, skirts drag, becomes a performance nonetheless, and the one thing we all know is that performances are very believable lies. 

Kripke literally wrote the line what’s dead should stay dead and didn’t realize this western action hero is dead. in trying to resurrect him anyway, the one character who was everything -- lovable fucker, always fuckable -- he compressed the perfect hero so tight that he vanished into thin air. and in place of him, dean, just dean: juggling his accoutrements, dropping them inevitably, the last great failed straight american male but a genuine instance of reality occurring where it did not have a place, demanding to be felt 

[missameliep]

From lovers to strangers (Colt Kaneko x MC)

Book: Ride or Day (post canon)

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x Ellie Wheeler (MC) (past relationship)

Rating: Teen and Up (the swearing, kissing)

Word count: 3,4k

A/N: this is my submission to the first @choicesprompts : August 15th - August 31, the prompt is in bold. I hope I made it on time!

Forgive any mistakes, there was no editing this time, and it's been a really long time since I wrote for Colt.

The cool wind pushes my hair back as I walk along the familiar path, every step taking me deeper into the past. It’s been years since I’ve been here; everything is different.

Everything is the same.

I’m not paying attention to the present as I walk, I’m too lost in memories of long ago. That’s why I don’t notice the person walking towards me until I hear a familiar voice call my name.

I freeze. It can’t be. What are the odds?

I lift my head as my eyes dart wildly around before finally landing on a face I’d recognize anywhere, even now.

“It’s you.”

The late afternoon sun cast its light over us and our long shadows on the ground almost touch, but we do not. The gap between us is larger than the few feet that keeps us apart. An entire Grand Canyon separate us.

Swaggering in my direction, sporting a worn leather jacket that looks almost the same, he eyes me with curiousity until stopping a few feet away from me.

His voice echoes, filling the distance.

“Who else?”

I am not offended by the tone nor the insinuation that my previous statement was stupid. He is right. Who else but he could be here in this place and know my name?

I am surprised nevertheless.

His jet-black hair is longer and dances with the wind. The black mass of hair moves away revealing a fresh cut over his eyebrow that will leave another small scar on his beautiful face. Some of those scars were not there when we met, reminding me that time has not stopped since the evening we said our goodbyes.

It didn’t stop for me – though sometimes it stretched endlessly in my attempts to convince myself I was in the right path, pursuing the right dreams – and it certainly didn’t stop for him.

Nearly a decade went by.

Nothing remains the same.

Neither of us is the same.

Over the years, whenever I came to visit my father, I avoided places I could run into him, which was easier than I first assumed. Even the times I met with Ximena and Toby. Just picked a different club, a different crowd. It’s a big city. We could both be here at LA at the same time and oblivious about the other, coexisting in different universes, moving on and never meeting. No matter how much, deep deep deep down I wished we would meet.

This time, however, when I booked my flight, I picked one earlier than necessary, giving me two entire free days before my three-day lecture at UCLA.

I wanted to come here.

It was an unexplainable urge that possessed me ever since Roger found that box in the closet. It was like opening a faded pink Pandora’s box.

Instead of all the evils, the box contained one too large Black Sabbath t-shirt, a silly cactus that used to be in my car, a couple of instant pictures and that old phone. After so long, I was amazed it still worked, keeping pictures and messages alive from a different version of me. Little tokens and treasures in the palm of my hand. Too many memories came rushing back from a part of my life that I have tried to bury deep inside.

I didn’t say a word to Roger about the Mercy Park Crew, gangs or heists. I called it all garbage and lied about throwing that stuff away.

Ever since that day, I wanted to see the garage and visit this place. A walk down memory lane was not enough. I needed an entire tour to the past to remind myself of that rush of energy and life. I considered taking a jump off this cliffside and dive into the ocean even if it’s no longer summer and I’m not a rebellious eighteen-year-old anymore, looking for adventure and trying to prove myself.

Maybe I would find what I have lost.

Maybe I would find something to help me close this chapter of my life before moving to the next one. A chapter I don’t feel ready for. Maybe I’m just getting cold feet. People say that happens often, right?

I didn’t expect that he would be here. Not in person at least. I didn’t expect to see him so soon. Or at all. But he is right there in front of me. If I just reach out, I can touch him. Though I won’t.

My mouth opened in spite of being emptied of words and then closed.

Expectantly, he stared at me.

I know not what to say. Maybe I should leave. That is the wise choice. But I don’t turn around.

As if he was one of the samples in the lab, I study him. His unsmiling face and enygmatic eyes. My gaze roams further down. Like black tendrils crawling beneath the edge of his white t-shirt to the side of his neck, there are pieces of a tattoo I have never seen. Does he have as many tattoos as his father once had? Is it because of him? I wonder what is drawn in his skin, if they symbolize victories or losses, and how far the needle touched it. I wonder if his pains are etched in his skin as mine are in my heart.

“Why you’re staring like I’m some fucking ghost, Ellie?”

“Sorry, Colt.” Saying his name after so long is bitter and liberating at once, like removing a foreign body that has been stuck in your throat all too long. “I was not expecting to see you...”

A smirk curls the corner of his mouth, and he’s that nineteen year old boy again, the twinkling in his eyes while thinking about a clever comeback.

“Then you shouldn’t come to my spot...”

There is humour in his quip, undeniably, and something that edges irritation. Is it Colt being Colt or did he want me to be looking for him?

I don’t let myself linger in that thought. I shouldn’t presume anything or expect to be able to read him now.

I force myself to break eye contact and smile towards the cliff, answering with a joke of my own like I used to, “The garage must be doing good if it bought you the sea coast...”

He snorts with laughter, and I dare throw a glance at him over my shoulder. There’s only amusement in his expression now.

“I told you. Someday I was gonna rule this city. One cliff at a time.”

“Solid investment.”

We share a quick laugh, almost too intimate.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, and his eyes accompany the motion with undivided interest. A shiver runs down my spine but I tell him the same protocolar thing I do whenever I meet some colleague or student and I feel wary on how to carry on a conversation.

“You look good.”

His lips are drawn inside his mouth in that familiar way before relaxing into a small smile that still makes my heart accelerate.

“Thanks.” The corner of his lip and an eyebrow raise at me. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“I have a mirror, so I don’t need to fish for compliments...” I mimicked his dull tone and his eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before his expression returned to the usual resting bitch face.

“No ulterior motives?”

“Do I need one?” I snort and stare him down. “I'm just making conversation...”

A gush of wind blows our hair and pulls his jacket back. I bow, lowering my gaze to the ground to protect my eyes and his shadow has earned a pair of black wings ready to fly over the Pacific ocean. Like the myth.

As he zips up the jacket, the wings are gone.

I don't share this thought, but the tragic Icarus remains in my mind. Too young, too eager, too close to the sun. But for a fraction of his life, he flew. How many of us can say the same?

Colt glances at the ocean and back at my face, studying me. It’s so similar to the way he did the night we met. I wonder what he sees now. Would he tell me again I don’t belong here? Or that I am trying too hard? He wouldn’t be wrong.

“You're obviously hot...” his voice comes almost like a whisper, gently carried by the wind, “but the best parts of you were not your looks...”

My entire face warms with a rush of blood. I am not easily flattered, I know how attractive and accomplished I am, but his words somehow hit me differently and he knows it.

His gaze lowers in appreciation. Soon, however, the smile disappears when his eyes narrow staring at the diamond ring in my finger.

There is no use in hiding it now, but I do it anyway, shoving my hands deep in my coat pockets.

“Do you still dive?”

His gaze quickly return to mine and he waits a beat before answering my question.

“Sometimes...” His lips roll inside his mouth. “So, is that why you’re here?”

“Maybe...”

“Are you looking for company or a nudge? I can push you.”

“Always so helpful...”

“I am a helpful guy.” He takes a step forward, edging me and the cliff, and wiggles his brows. “Just say the word.”

“It’s too cold. And the sea looks rather unfriendly. I’ll probably have cramps and drown...”

He tsks me and I throw him an inquisitive glance.

“None of that would ever stop you...”

“What can I say? I am much wiser now.”

“Did the East turn you into an old boring wimpy?”

“I’m older, not old.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and look at him in defiance. “I am no longer young and stupid.”

“You were rarely stupid.”

“Thanks.” I emphatically roll my eyes and take a step back. He follows, still keeping the distance.

We both look at the ocean in silence. The roar of the waves reminding me of the dangers bellow.

“You regret?”

“What?”

“Things...”

“Wow. Could you be any more vague?” I laugh and play with my hair, curling a lock around my fingers over and over. He tries to look cool, but the way his eyes don’t waver from my face indicate eagerness for an answer.

“A fashion intervention was totally necessary back then.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” he snorted with laughter.

“Jerk.”

“Don’t come at me for agreeing with you!”

I don’t hold the laugh.

“What about the rest?”

“There are no do-overs,” I shrugg, looking back at him, “so, what’s the point? The past is not a place we can live, right?”

I try to come as nonchalant, and if he suspects I am not entire honest about it, he doesn’t say anything.

“Are you back?”

My negative comes in a shake of head.

I take a deep breath, letting the salty misty fill my lungs. The sun is slowly descending towards the ocean, painting the sky in orange shades.

“I missed this...”

“What?”

“Everything. The sunset. The ocean.”

“I heard there’s an entire ocean on the other side... Just take the I-95.”

“I already did that... It’s nice.” I lift my hands and deftly braid my hair to avoid it from getting into my face and mouth as the wind blows stronger. “It’s actually conveniently close. Beautiful sunsets. No jams. Unlike here. But...”

When I stop talking, he kicks a small rock and it falls over the cliff. I kick one too, while dancing around what we don’t talk about.

“You miss it here.”

A lump forms in my throat and I don’t trust my voice, so I nod.

He nods too and his hair falls to his face for a moment.

This is the complete opposite of what I imagined meeting Colt would be like. There are no passionate kisses nor angry shouting and fingers pointing at each other’s faces.

Years ago I desired meeting him face to face with all my heart. First in a naive and hopeful way, as if it was possible to resume what we had, ignoring that we lived in different worlds.

With each passing week without news from him, that earlier feeling turned bitter. Resentful, even. I wondered why he never reached out. How could he forget me that quickly, while I still loved him? Many times I wanted to march into the restored garage and shout that question to his face. Why did I expect that he would not forget me?

I hated myself more than I hated him for being so naive. I spiralled into self-loathing and cheap booze before focusing on the one thing I was ever good at: studying.

He moves, protecting his eyes with a hand from the dust blown by the wind, and deliberately gets closer as if about to say something. Perhaps changing his mind halfway through it, he simply shoves his hands inside his pockets and stares at the horizon.

In silence, I stand beside him.

The dusking sky is almost purple with splashes of orange and red and it is breathtaking.

I search my brain for anything else to say.

I don’t want to talk about the few but intense months we had. I don’t want to talk about the dreams and expectations that crumpled or the way I don’t fit in the roles expected from me. I don’t want to tell him I don’t know who I am or what I want anymore.

I silenced about those things to my therapist and my fiance, I will not disclose it to a stranger.

Stranger.

From lovers to strangers.

That is what we are now.

What is left to be said if you cannot say what truly matters? Do we talk about the weather or how horrible traffic is? Maybe something more controversial like what he thinks about the candidates running for Senate or what he makes of those guys who still believe in flat Earth?

I don’t want to talk about any of that either. I fear if I open my mouth now, the truths I have hidden inside me will spill like a broken dam.

Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. I press my tongue to my palate and blink them away. I force myself not to break, not to give in first.

I don’t want him to know how much I have missed him and ached for him and hated him and worked so hard to not think about him. Every unsaid word and broken promise consumed me. I once was a girl with love in my eyes but now I don’t have love nor hate for him, I am long past the hope and the anger. I don’t know what I have.

“Are you thinking about doing it?” he asked me quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“The jump.”

By his tone and the way he stares at me, I suspect he doesn’t mean the literal dive from the cliffside. Either way, I don't have an answer.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“What if I drown?”

“I wouldn’t let you...”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t. You should trust yourself. That’s the only thing we have in the end of the day, right?”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Only if you think about it...”

A blanket of purple and deep blue is covering the sky and I can barely make his face as the sun disappears into the ocean, taking the dive I won’t.

For a moment, Colt looks over his shoulder, distracted by the roar of a bike’s engine in the distance.

“What if it is not like I remember?”

“There is this Greek dude that wrote something like you can’t swim twice in the same river or some shit like that... Things change. It can be worse. It can be better. Who knows? But it won’t be the same anyway...”

“That is less encouraging than you think...”

“It was not supposed to be. You always knew better and never needed that kind of thing...”

“Who said I didn’t? Maybe I wasn’t as strong as you guys thought...”

“You are Ellie Wheeler. You take no shit from punk heads... Your students agree with that moto.” Colt elbowed me and I chuckled.

“How do you even know that?”

“Who says I know anything?”

I wrapped my arms, pulling my coat tighter around myself.

“What if I don’t want to jump?”

“Then you don’t.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Years lying about acceptance and moving on crumple inside. It is Colt. I can’t help it. I feel. I feel so much. I am hit by feelings like the waves hitting the rocky shore. I crumple. I want to reach out. I want to know if I can have those feelings back, even if it will destroy me.

“Was that what you thought when you walked away from me?”

“I never walked away from you.”

“That’s bull and you know it.”

“I did what I had to do. Just like you.”

He tries to move away but I block his path.

“What do you mean?”

“We better not go there. You don’t live in the past, right?” he give me his back. “You need a ride?”

“I never moved on... from you.”

“Aren’t you engaged?”

I muttered a string of swearing against my fisted hand.

“I don’t know if I can do that. Any of that. I'm not like them.”

“You can.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I saw you at Langston.”

“You did? When?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

“It was some presentation. You were doing good. Great actually, like your friend said you were... when you spoke to that packed auditorium, people were just eating in your hand... You were fucking brilliant, Ellie! I was so proud of you and I knew right there and then. I just had to step away and let you go on and live your life, do all that great stuff you’re destined to. Last week, I heard Ximena bragging about your lecture at UCLA and that you’re like this big shot and people come to hear you talk about this dope drug you created... She just talks about you even if she has no idea what this shit even is about... You inspire people, El.”

“Fuck you!” I pushed him and I felt the salty of my tears reach my lips. “How dare you? How dare you decide something that important without telling me?”

“Hey! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Stay. Talk to me. Anything. Just don’t make assumptions about me!”

“I am a criminal, El. I was on the run. I shouldn’t even be there!”

“You had my number... You knew where I lived... It didn’t have to be in the middle of campus.”

“I did for you. We can’t play dream house. You can’t introduce me to your colleagues or your financiers. I probably stole shit from them.”

The tears wouldn’t stop streaming down my face now, no matter how many times I brushed them. I wanted to be angry with him and shout. But I was sad. I could rationally understand what he said and why he did it. This was the closure I was looking for, then why doesn’t it feel like an ending?

Unexpectedly, his arms pulled me against his chest, and I buried my face in his neck.

“That hurt me so much...” I sobbed against his skin, and his hand stroked my back in a soothing motion. “I hated you. I hated me.”

Despite my resistance, I was pulled even closer, his arms impossibly tight around me.

“I love you. Always did. I just couldn’t be a fucking moron and drag you with me.”

When I managed to look up at his face, he was already looking down at me.

“I want to jump.”

“Now? Have you lost it? It’s too damn dark –”

When my lips touched his, it silenced him.

Colt was right.

It was not the same.

The kiss felt familiar and strangely new at once.

As our lips glided against the other’s and when our tongues finally met, it felt like riding a bike. Even if it wasn’t like that first time, the thrill from each ride and from moving faster and faster never failed to rush my heart. Just like being in this embrace.

His hand delved into my hair and he pulled me closer like I was the air he needed to breath. I got that. I finally felt like breathing again.

I touched his neck, letting the tips of my fingers trace the tattoo, making him shiver. His lips touched my neck, retuning the courtesy and shooing every coherent thought from my brain.

The world had submerged into darkness and the moon was over our heads when we parted breathless many minutes or hours later.

Who knows and who cares?

We made no promises and said nothing we could regret.

But as he held my hand and guided me to his bike, I knew I had made my choice.

I jumped.

We both did.

[prettyiwa]

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work anywhere. Do not mention me or my work on Tik-Tok.

Relationship: Annie Leonhart x F!Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ | Have your fucking age in your bio Content Warnings: Modern!AU, Semi-Public Sex, Bathroom Sex, Slight Exhibitionism, Fingering, Praise Kink, PWP, Thanks I Hate This 🙃 Request: I just read your Annie fic and i think thats one of the best things I’ve ever read, holy shit dude. I was wondering if you could please write Annie with an Afab reader with 13, 14 and 53 from the smut prompt list! If not, totally cool and stay safe! (X) [13. "I don't really care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now."] [14. "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop."] [53. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."] Word Count: 1,895

“Eyes on my target,” you mutter barely loud enough for the comms piece in your ear to pick it up, eyes glued to the tall blonde in the center of the ballroom, surrounded by a variety of business people and politicians.

“Leonhart—is your target with him?” Pieck’s voice cuts through the shared line as a melody floats through the air, circling past the warm bodies in attendance of this gala.

“Ugh, kinda,” Annie responds, not too far from you.

The air is warm, buzzing with understated energy, and whether that’s the Warriors undercover or the socialites in their natural habitat, you aren’t entirely certain.

You can make out the Galliard brothers in the crowd, acting as servers—quite the challenge for Pock, but his annoyed face is probably the best part of this mission. Reiner is playing security, moving around the perimeter of the room. Zeke, Colt, Annie, and yourself are nameless faces in the crowd, dressed to the tens, carefully masked as anonymous benefactors looking to fund any one of these people—a varied assortment of dignitaries, entrepreneurs, CEOs, and other elites.

“Remember: you and Leonhart are supposed to be spouses. Act like it,” Pieck chides in your ear as Annie sidles up to you, mild annoyance clear in her blue eyes.

Usually, the two of you are perfect partners—ready and willing to do whatever the organization needed from you two. Then again, usually, you’re not reeling in the aftermath of an almost-kiss and the fervent denial on her behalf that anything happened. For some fucking reason, it devolved into a massive argument that left you feeling frustrated and disappointed. But assignments were already given.

Clicking your tongue against your teeth, you lead her through the crowd towards your two targets. She slips her hand into yours as you walk, sly in the way she slips the tracker into your hand.

It’s all fake smiles and false gratuity as you interact with him, with Mr. Smith. Unlike Annie’s target, Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Smith is all smiles and handshakes, making it easy to slip the tracker into his pocket as you shake his hand, as you spew worthless praise for his advocacy.

“Jesus Christ, you lay it on thick,” you hear Zeke mutter into your ear. “Ah. I see my target,” he says, comms cutting out just as you hear an excited greeting that could only be Dr. Hange.

Annie’s hand finds yours, attracting the attention of both you and Mr. Smith. Turning, you find Mr. Ackerman glaring at her as though she killed his puppy. Well, shit.

“Oh, my,” the man on your left says. “Levi, dear,” he says. If you weren’t as well-versed in behavioral psychology and speech pathology, you would have missed the warning in Mr. Smith’s tone. He turns to Annie, apologetic smile painted on his face. “Please, forgive my partner. He’s not as comfortable with these events as I am.”

“No need to apologize. My wife is the same,” you say, pulling Annie to your side.

“Your wife? I would have never guessed,” Mr. Ackerman remarks, eyeing you both skeptically.

“Fix that,” Pieck warns, guessing what the issue is.

“You two don’t act like spouses,” he elaborates, confirming Pieck’s suspicions. What the fuck did she say to elicit such a reaction from this man?

Colt, being the amazing and eager Warrior that he is, intervenes by “accidentally” spilling champagne behind the surly shit that was Annie’s target.

“I’m so sorry! This was my mistake! Please, allow me to fix this,” he sputters, paling at the steely glare given by Mr. Ackerman.

Using the distraction to slip out of the crowd unnoticed, you lead Annie to the bathroom just outside of the ballroom. The noise settles and the air is cooler, giving you both a minute of respite against the otherwise endless evening.

“The fuck you say to him, Annie?” you ask, turning on her as you turn off your comms. The rest of them don’t need to hear this.

“Does it matter? I completed my part of the mission,” she answers with that bland fucking look that she gives Reiner and Bertolt when they’re getting on her nerves.

“Yes, it matters,” you hiss. “I swear to fuck, if you ruin our cover because you’re too fucking afraid to act like my wife, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? You always do this. Read too much into a situation and make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is this about that kiss?!”

“What do you think?” she snarks. “You’re ruining this friendship because you’re convinced we almost kissed.”

She—!!

Closing the distance between you two, you pin her against the bathroom wall, red tinging your vision. Her pupils dilate and her eyes flicker to your lips, confirming what you already knew to be true.

“We’re not ‘just friends’ and you fucking know it,” you breathe, face inches from hers. She visibly swallows, the challenge in her gaze quickly evaporating. “If we were, Zeke wouldn’t be dragging me into his office every other week to talk about ‘workplace romances’. If we’re ‘just friends,’ why are you looking at me like you want me to make a move?”

“Shut—fuck, you’re a stubborn bitch,” she says with no real conviction. There’s a battle behind her eyes, an internal debate about whether she should give in or hold onto her pride.

It takes but a second before her hands grab at your face, pulling you in for a passionate kiss, full of emotions, of words long unsaid. Your hands wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as her teeth nip at your bottom lip. Before you give her what she wants, you pull back.

“I thought I was just a friend to you, Annie,” you taunt as vindication blends seamlessly with your desire. “Are you sure you want to ‘ruin this friendship?’”

“Fuck you. I don’t really care, anymore. You look hot in that outfit and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now,” she snaps, fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer.

“Are you sure you want this? Once we start, I might not be able to stop,” you breathe, lips hovering over hers.

“Fuck it.”

You waste no time locking the bathroom door—fuck everyone else—before slanting your lips against hers, drowning in the taste of Annie. Your hands grab at the skirt of her dress, pulling it up her legs so you can lift her by her thighs.

She lets out a surprised shriek as you carry her to the sink counter. Your fingers grip into the supple flesh of her thighs with such strength you’re sure to leave bruises. Wrapping her arms around your neck, she pulls you closer, tracing her lips along your jawline, nipping at your neck.

Dragging your fingers up her thigh, you meet the thin band of her lingerie before grazing over the front, feeling her wetness soaking through.

“Already? I’ve barely touched you,” you coo teasingly, rubbing your fingers over her front. She grinds helplessly into your hand, desperate for friction at this point. “Are you that fucking needy?”

“Fuck you,” she says after biting your shoulder. You pull back just enough to see a lovely blush that decorates her cheeks.

“I’m trying to,” you whisper. “But if that’s really your sentiment, I could always stop.” You start to pull away only for her to grab ahold of your wrist, keeping your hand in place.

“Don’t be a fucking tease.”

“Oh? Very well then,” you smile, slipping your hand down the front of her lingerie, quick to gather her slick on your fingers before teasing her lips.

She gives you a heady moan as you set a teasing pace, building her up, drawing out louder and louder whimpers, whines, and keens. Her hands wrap around your shoulders again, nearly leaning into you as you work. You graze your thumb along her entrance, relishing in her shiver.

Moving your way up, you find her clit and start experimental touches, finding what works best, what makes her writhe with pleasure. Once you find that special little motion that makes her cry out, you insert your middle finger, immediately rewarded with the dragging of her nails on your back, a sharp whine that slips past her pretty pink lips.

“You’re doing so good,” you purr, curling your finger, finding that spongy little spot along her velvety walls. You’re able to establish that perfect little combination that removes all spite and attitude and turns her into a wonderfully pliant and trembling woman.

“Anh—shit!” she whimpers, trying to stifle her moan by biting her bottom lip. “M-more!”

“More, pretty girl?” She nods frantically on your shoulder and you press a light kiss to the side of her head as you slip another finger into her cunt. Immediately, you feel her walls clench, feel as she gets closer to her climax. You start to whisper praise in her ear as you quicken your pace, alternating pressure, encouraging her to come.

She orgasms with a shudder and a sharp intake of breath, muscles tensing before her head lolls and body relaxes against you. Spreading her legs, she drops her hand to your wrist, pulling lightly. As you remove your fingers from her, she shivers again, still sensitive from her orgasm. She leans back against the counter, propping herself up on her elbows. Her chest heaves as she comes down, a lovely sprinkling of pink dusting her cheeks and chest.

You bring your fingers to your mouth, tasting her on your skin, making a mental note to get a proper taste later.

“Damn, babe,” she whispers, eyes focused on you.

“I told you—it’s impossible for us to be ‘just friends,’” you reply, fixing her appearance.

She looks like she’s about to say something before the handle on the bathroom door is pulled, before there’s a knock on the locked door.

“Ah, it looks like our time is up.”

She drops down from the sink, smoothing over wrinkles in her dress before reapplying her gloss. The two of you head out, unlocking the door and finding three frustrated socialites waiting on the other side. As the two of you walk down the hallway back towards the gala, you both turn comms back on.

Mr. Ackerman enters the hall just as you two are about to leave. Surprise flashes across his face momentarily as his eyes flicker across both of your appearances.

“I should, ah, I should apologize. I was wrong, earlier,” he admits, looking down in embarrassment.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Annie answers coolly. “If you don’t mind, my wife and I have a gala to enjoy.”

Her fingers intertwine with yours as she pulls you away from her target. The two of you return to the stuffed ballroom, Pock immediately spotting you two.

“They’re back,” he reports.

“Where were you two? We lost eyes on you,” Zeke chastises.

“Sorry. We had some stuff to handle.”

“Sex. They had sex,” Pock informs them as he turns in a completely different direction from the two of you.

Zeke sighs as Pieck laughs. “Well, that’s one way to, ah, ‘fix it.’”

“We’re going to have a talk when this mission is done,” Zeke warns.

“Fine, Yeager,” Annie answers. She turns to you as a light flush spreads across her cheeks. “It was worth it though.”

Attack on Titan Masterlist

[boldlyvoid]

Cowboy Like Me | It could be love

Summary: Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Warnings for this chapter: Jack POV then Haley's ghost POV, short interlude chapter before the Climax of the story happens <3

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Once Scott gave Jeremy that talking to, he’s been a lot nicer to Jack at school. Or Mack, as everyone called him.

His full name is Mackenzie Colt on the attendance sheet, Miss Bowery called out his fake name, marking him as present before calling out the rest of the 13 names on the list. It was such a small schoolhouse, their grade had the most students, it was boring as all hell but he preferred it over the stuffed feeling of 30 kids in a DC classroom fighting for the attention of one teacher.

Next year he’d get to start high school, going 2 towns over to a school with over 700 kids and maybe, just maybe, he’d find some real friends for a change.

Jeremy was a nice person when he dropped the asshole, cool guy act. He took Jack into his group, the teasing stopped, and Jeremy started telling people that they were cousins technically and that made him cooler somehow. It was so insane to him that this was his life now, he went from having a best friend and cousin in Henry to having a somewhat cousin trying to be his possible friend in Jeremy.

Here, the boys only wanted to talk about their farms, the things they were hunting on the weekends and the upcoming lumberjack games. Jack missed going to the comic book store at 9 in the morning on a Saturday to get the first copy of a new comic with Henry. He missed walking down the busy street at 6pm with Jess to go get a tub of ice cream to eat while his dad was away on a case. He missed the mundane nothingness of his old life, where he wasn’t scared some creep was going to kidnap him and he could do things he actually liked.

He knew this feeling wouldn’t last forever, growing up unsure of what every day would look like prepared him for this. He grew up a lot faster than the rest of his classmates, losing his mom in such a horrible way and then being forced back on the run at 12, trying to keep himself safe and happy completely alone it seemed for all those years before he met Y/N.

She’s the first person who’s felt like a mom to him since his actual mother died. Jess tried, but she was always going to be the cool aunt. Penelope was too smothering, Emily hated kids no matter how much she tried to pretend she was interested in him, and JJ had her own kids, Jack just felt like an obligation to her. It was hard to find support in them, they loved him like a family he was born into… cause they had to. That’s how families worked, he thought.

And then he met Y/N, she didn’t have to take him in. She could’ve just let them live in the back house and go about her own life without a care in the world, but instead, she made Jack and Aaron a part of her family and she’ll never know how much that means to him.

For years he wished he had a real mom again, someone to tuck him in and kiss his forehead after reading a book to him. Someone to wake him up gently the next morning and carry him downstairs for breakfast, helping him get ready for the day and then spending it together. He missed the ability to be taken care of by someone who didn’t see it as a chore or an obligation... like a best friend was raising him. He missed his mommy more than he could ever explain.

He got off the bus that day to find Y/N standing at the end of the driveway, arms wide and waiting for a hug as he ran off. He took his headphones off, running into his arms, she holds him so tight. "hi mama," he mumbles into her shirt.

“Missed you,” she whispers as she kisses the top of his head. “How was school today?”

He shrugs as he pulls back, “same as usual.”

“How’s Miss Bowery?” She asks, knowing her from when they were kids as well.

“She’s good, we did well on our math test this week so she let us watch a movie during the last hour,” he manages to smile.

“What did you watch?” She inquires, always wanting to know about his day during their walk back to the house.

“We started Osmosis Jones,” he has a press-lipped smile, “it was kinda gross in the beginning but the cartoon part is really good.”

“I think I saw it, it came out before you were even born,” she tries to think back to it. It was one of the only movies playing at the Ivy Ridge theatre a few towns over when she was in her 20’s.

“What are we having for dinner tonight?” He changes the topic abruptly, rubbing his tummy as he looks up at her.

“I’m not sure,” she shrugs. “We’ve been so busy with the farmers market prep… but I can make you anything on the menu for dinner tonight, bud.”

“Would I be able to have a snack now?” He asks nicely.

“Sure can,” she pats his back.

It was as simple as that really, she was his mom and he was happier with her in his life, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss Haley. Ever since he got that candle from Y/N, he’s been feeling closer than ever to accepting the fact his mom passed on, but she’ll forever be his guardian angel. Sometimes he felt like she was with them, in a way he could never explain, but he felt it in his heart.

—

And Haley was actually there, sat collecting dust with the other ghosts that inhabited Evermory.

She always wondered what the afterlife was like if she would be a ghost or an angel or something in between. When she died, when she felt the last breath leave her lungs, her only thought was ‘I need to protect my baby.’ So thats where her soul stayed connected, something she only learned when she got here.

Este died a few years after Haley, but even with less time under her belt, she understood more about being dead than anyone else she’s crossed paths with.

The day jack and Aaron moved to Evermory, Haley showed up on the farm, wandering around aimlessly in the dark for some answers. There was a little boy and his father out resting by the tree. A woman sweeping in the kitchen, singing to herself, and a lone woman in the cafe, in the chair by the window, wishing she could leave.

Haley took a seat beside her, “excuse me…”

“Hello,” she smiles, “you look like a friend I once had…”

“My name's Haley… my ex-husband and my son are living here, I guess I came with them?” She didn’t understand how it all worked.

“I’m Este, I’ve been here for a while… I was murdered—

“Me too,” Haley interjects. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she reaches out her hand, holding Haley’s, her eyes go wide.

“I can feel you…”

Este smiles at her, “Yeah, cause we’re both dead, we’re made of the same matter. I just don’t understand how you’re here if you never died here?”

She shrugs, “I go where Jack and Aaron go.”

“Who?”

“Daren and Mack, they’re in witness protection,” she explains, knowing that the secret couldn’t reach the land of the living even if they spoke them there.

“Oh,” she starts to think back. “That makes a lot of sense, Ed’s always housing people for a year or so at a time and then we never see them again.”

She sits back with a sigh, “Aaron works with the FBI, when I died some idiot felt threatened by him and Aaron didn’t take the deal he offered, and so he threatened to kill our family…”

“I confronted my husband Robert about cheating on me with someone he worked with, and he killed me,” she gets it. “how’d you go out?”

“Shot and stabbed,” she says it like it’s nothing, trading stories about scars that never got to heal.

“Strangled,” Este shrugs. “well… it’s nice to have you here for the time being. I’m the only one that stays right here, I can’t leave.”

“Have you tried?”

She nods, “I made a promise, my soul is stuck here.”

That promise was to watch over Jack. Which she’s been doing extra hard lately. Ensuring his safety on the farm, making sure the kids at school learn Karma is a bitch for messing with her son and always keeping an extra eye out for the creep who wants to kill him this time.

It was annoying knowing that Aaron was always in danger. Incredibly angered by the fact that even after she died because of him, he still went back to work, he still made dumb decisions and their son was still at risk because of him. Sure, she fell out of love with him a long time ago, and there was something about ghosts getting angrier the longer they stayed between worlds, but she was the most pissed that she was never enough for him.

Y/N was.

Within 2 months of knowing her, Aaron was ready to quit his job and retire on the farm for the rest of time, and Haley was just supposed to sit back and watch it happen. It was heartbreaking, it didn’t matter that he was her ex-husband, what matters is that she was never enough.

She did everything right, and still, he couldn’t stop until he met her… the same woman who’s taken in her son, the one who passed on real hugs and gentile reminders that he’s loved while Haley can't do that. She’s changed both Aaron and Jack’s lives and while she’s mad it wasn’t her to do it, she’s happy they’re being taken care of.

At the end of the day, her boys are happy and healthy and thats all she could ever ask for.

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[astridthevalkyrie]

most to least good at taking pictures of their s/o with the aot boys?

coming in first place is armin, as much as i hate to admit it. he might even have a polaroid but even with his phone he always chooses the best filters, knows the places with the best lighting, will encourage you to post it to your socials because you look amazing even though he's already posted it to his with the captions "look how drop dead gorgeous they are"

bertholdt always chooses the best times, always makes sure you're smiling, and always checks with you after you take the picture if you like it. his camera roll is all pictures of you, it's adorable. he also has very organized filters to remember dates and places that he took the pictures so he's constantly texting you memories

everyone is surprised but eren is so good at taking pictures! you could be doing anything - reading a book, typing busily on your laptop, eating - and he'll sneak his phone out, take a really good shot from a nice angle, and then tuck his phone back in his pocket. a bit shy to admit that he does this, and slightly embarrassed to tell you that he looks at them when he gets anxious because they calm him down.

it's so frustrating, and yet porco takes pictures of you when you're sleeping, the asshole, and they still come out amazing! even with the bit of drool coming out of your mouth, he hushes your protests and insists that you look cute and besides, who's going to see it besides you and him and pieck who he's already texted??

jean takes the cutest selfies. that's just canon. wherever you are, whether at the beach or driving in the car or just lazing around at home, he'll hold his phone up and tell you to pose. 100% captions his photos with things like "me and my bae >>>> you (eren)" or "this asshole really messed up my hair after this ily but"

listen he doesn't just take them for the hell of it, but zeke is really good at remembering to take pictures at really fancy events where the two of you are super dressed up. more often than not he'll drag you away from everyone else for a few minutes because he found a really good spot that will bring out your eyes. times the picture and goes to stand with you, you two absolutely are that one couple everyone hates for being too cool.

i feel like reiner reserves pictures for special moments, and usually prefers that you be the one to take them. but he'll indulge himself every once in a while, takes a nice if kinda stiff picture of you two smiling and saves it to his folder of pictures to look at during a rainy day. also sometimes requests that you send him your own selfies since he thinks they're better.

floch will roll his eyes whenever you throw your arms around him from behind and ask him to take a picture, but he'll oblige you. the quality isn't really that bad, it's just that anyone looking at the picture can tell he wasn't enthusiastic to stop and take a picture when he could be spending time with you. almost always end up with him scowling in the photo, but he later crops himself out and keeps your smiling face in.

oh, erwin. i love him, i really do, but...yikes. he takes so many pictures of you, it's just that most of them are taken from a really bad angle or with a glaring light. he's proud of them, though, posts them like they're the greatest things on earth, and you just have to roll with it because you can't break his heart. please like every picture, he'll appreciate it and then continue to take more terrible ones <3

you would think that connie would be really good at taking photos, but he never takes one that fully satisfies him. it actually bothers him for a good while but he eventually realizes that what he loves about you is your vibrancy, how you move, the little quirks that are just impossible to capture on camera. so he actually prefers making videos instead, like recorded video diaries in which he narrates you doing everyday activities.

colt really tries, okay?? he really does. it's not his fault that someone (usually gabi) knocks his hand away at the side right as he's clicking the button, or that you move and the picture is ruined. luck is just never on his side. no matter what he does, something always happens to ruin the picture and he eventually just gives up. it's a perfect time for you to take a picture of him and capture his pouty face.

and coming in at dead last is levi, bless his soul. cannot take a single photo that isn't blurry or zoomed in weirdly and doesn't really get the point of taking pictures anyways. he's spending time with you, what need does he have for a picture when he could just look at you with his very own two eyes? you're much prettier when he's not looking at you through a screen at any rate. he prefers the real thing any day.

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hey could you maybe write something along the lines of what the boys would do if their s/o feels ignored/forgotten? No pressure, I just feel like it'd be interesting

A/N: Hey! This was a super cool prompt, I’m excited to write it <3 thanks for requesting Nonny!

DARRY CURTIS

Darry works two very physical jobs, rarely has a day off and has to constantly take care of his two younger brothers

When he comes home? He usually showers, eats dinner, and falls right asleep

It’s not rare to feel forgotten or ignored, especially with Dare’s busy schedule and his workaholic personality

He works almost every shift he can, trying to bring home every paycheck possible for the boys so that he can make sure they’re taken care of 

Your best option here? Just tell Darry how you feel, it’s gonna give you the best outcome and everyone’s gonna be a lot happier

He’ll do his best to take a day off and spend the day with you, taking you wherever you want and showering you with love and attention

SODAPOP CURTIS

Let’s start by saying it’s hard to feel ignored in a relationship with Sodapop Curtis and if you do feel ignored, it’s not on purpose

Pony compares Sodapop to a colt, he’s sort of boyish and not overly serious all the time, he likes having fun and gets a little wild

So if you feel ignored? It’s not on purpose, Soda’s probably gotten distracted by something else and has temporarily forgotten about you

Not to fear! It doesn’t take much to get his attention back on you, literally one of the easiest things you could do

Three easy things: step into his line of sight, call his name, and smile!

Just like that, Soda’s forgotten everything else in the world and suddenly the only thing he’s focusing on in you 

PONYBOY CURTIS

Ponyboy almost always has his heads in the clouds, he’s a dreamer and has a wild imagination that often runs away from him

He’s also usually got a lot of stress on his shoulders? Between the inevitable drama in his life, Darry making sure he’s keeping up in school, and other things

If you’re feeling forgotten, most likely it’s because Pony’s off in his head or is trying to live up to Darry’s expectations or is just innocently busy with something else

Again, with him? It’s better to just talk to him, Pony is immediately going to try and resolve the problem and give you a bunch of attention

Pony doesn’t mean to ignore you, it’s an honest mistake, he’ll admit it while he apologizes and holds you hands in his

Definitely the kind of boy to try and make it up to you with a few dates later that week  

DALLAS WINSTON

Soooo. If you’re feeling like Dally’s ignoring you or has forgotten about you, it might be on purpose, I’m not gonna lie to you guys 

For example, he could be talking to a group of greasers, friends of yours, and you can tuck yourself into his side and he’d barely spare you a glance

It’s just him trying to bring up his tough-guy-nothing-can-touch-me attitude, he’s trying to show off in front of the rest of his buddies

Also- this could be an attempt to try and make you jealous? Especially if he’s ignoring you in favor of talking to someone else, someone pretty to get you all riled up

Confronting him about it is going to lead to a fight, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine by ignoring him is also probably going to lead to a fight?

My suggestion would be to make it hard for him to ignore you; press kisses up his neck as he’s talking and slip your hand under the edge of his jacket or take his beer and take a slow sip while keeping your eyes locked on his <3 

JOHNNY CADE

Okay guys, do we really think that Johnny is going to let you get to the point of feeling ignored or forgotten?

Cause I really don’t think he will, even if y’all get in a fight or you’re busy, he’s not going to let you get too far

In the very rare case, and let me stress how rare this would be, that you feel forgotten or ignore by Johnnycake, talk to him

I know, all of these are sounding the same, but I’m serious guys, talking to most of the boys is going to solve your problems

If Johnny really has been doing something that makes you feel ignored? He’s gonna apologize

And it’s the softest apology, murmured under his breath with pleading eyes as he kisses your hands 

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Okay, so yeah, you might feel forgotten with Two-Bit, he’s admittedly a little scatterbrained

Unlike Dally, the ignoring isn’t purposeful here, Two’s just a little spacy, it’s alright though because we still love him!

Maybe he’s busy stirring up trouble or off stealing something else and didn’t invite you along to join in his fun

Two scenarios there - A) he thought your invitation was obvious and didn’t say it or B) he just forgot to mention it to you

Either way, harmless mistakes guys, Two doesn’t mean it, he’s not trying to upset you I swear-

What’s the solution? I think you guys know :) talk to him and expect a bunch of kisses back in response

STEVE RANDLE

Steve’s a little tougher? I feel like there’s a chance of feeling forgotten here, it’s not as high as it is with Dal, but it’s there

But it’s a dumb sort of forgotten, like Steve’s too busy obsessing over the cars at the DX or is too involved in a conversation with Soda ot something to pay attention to you

It’s not hard to get his attention back, literally any physical contact from you has his eyes snapping back to you, eager to see what you need

Link your finger with his, gently set a hand on his back, kiss his cheek, kick his foot, I’m telling you it works

Just like that, his undivided attention is on you darlin and there’s no way you can feel forgotten when he’s looking at you with that soft smile

Kiss a little, whisper apologies on both sides and everyone’s happy again

TIM SHEPARD

Okay so there’s a lot of things that keep Tim’s attention from you: the gang, both Shepard and occasionally Curtis, his siblings, and Tim himself

He’s like Dally in the sense, they’re a lot alike if you aren’t noticing, he’ll ignore you on purpose just to get a rise out of you

But when he’s not trying to be a jerk, it takes a lot of effort to keep his gang in line and take care of Angela and Curly

My personal headcanon for their family is that Mr. Shepard is way out of the picture, to the point where even Tim barely remembers him, and Mrs. Shepard is never home and rarely comes around - she’s not dead, just never there so Tim’s sort of a parent to Curls and Angela

Telling him you’re feeling ignored is practically an free invite for him to tease you and poke fun at you, ultimately though, it’s going to lead to him trying to rope you in more under the guise of he wants to show you off also how boring meetings are with the gang and how he “might as well have somethin’ pretty to look at”

Don’t try and cold shoulder him back, he will take it as a challenge and he will win the little game you’re trying to play 

CURLY SHEPARD

For some reason? I see Curly in the same light as I see Steve for this set of headcanons

I don’t think he’s the kind of person who’s going to try and purposefully ignore you unlike his brother and Dally, if it happens, it’s usually on accident

When he’s late to your date at the Dingo, he just got caught up talking with some other greasers on the way there, as soon as he sits down across from you, he’s already asking for you to forgive him

But on the off hand Curly decides to be a jerk and ignores you, the advice is a little different, you’re gonna want to give him a little bit of the cold shoulder, especially if you’re at a party or something

So like- if he’s trying to catch your eye from across the room, a smug smile on his face, don’t look at him, just keep your conversation going with whoever you were talking to

When he presses up behind you and tries to kiss your neck, tilt your head so he can’t, it’ll become a game of sorts and I think that Curly would love to play, as long as you guys don’t take it too far

[weepinglevi]

summary: fem!reader and porco get it on in the bathroom. porco has his phone to document everything for colt, who is reader's boyfriend. all aged up to be 21+. warnings: 18+ minors dni. infidelity! semi-public sex, slight dacryphilia, heavy dirty talk, mirror sex, creampie - reader doesn't know he's filming at first but is okay with it. also poor colt :( word count: around 1.6k beta reader: the most wonderful @1252291 came through. love you to the moon and back. <3 A/N: contribution to my adult movie tropes collab! pock brainrot is strong with this one. i hope you enjoy and feedback is always greatly appreciated. take care and lots of love. xx

you know it’s wrong.

the moment he closes the door behind him and turns the key, you’re torn between wanting to push him away and pulling him in even closer. leaning against the cold porcelain of the sink, you take a shaky breath. outside, they’re playing music and you hear annie’s shrieking laugh.

outside is the party colt took you to. to meet his friends, as he had put it.

now you’re here, in a small bathroom at an unknown house, not with colt – but with porco galliard. heart beating heavy in your chest as he lets his eyes wander over your body, you feel small and pathetic. still, the longing that has brought you here is slowly catching fire, turning into lust.

he doesn’t say a word when he takes a step toward you, placing his hands on your hips and grabbing them tightly. his grip is sure to leave a bruise but with how he breathes against your ear, you don’t care anymore. “i-“

“shh, you’re gonna kill the mood,“ porco chuckles and dips his head down, driving the flat of his tongue against your collarbone before pulling away and blowing against it, causing you to shiver and the tiny hairs on your body to stand up in anticipation.

you know it’s wrong, know you shouldn’t allow him to hook his hands under your thighs and lift you up so you can sit on the edge of the sink – so why are you wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him in even closer than he already was?

“fuck, you’re needy, aren’t you,” he rests his forehead against yours, voice coming deep and stirring the heat in your belly, making you feel as if you’re about to implode, “he doesn’t know how to fuck you in the right way, huh?”

there’s no need for you to answer, no need to state the obvious, so you stretch your neck to close the small distance between his lips and yours, crashing against him. tasting the bitterness of the vodka he had just minutes ago, you close your eyes and let a whimper escape. he’s right.

he’s laughing against your lips now, knowing you agree with him.

“he shouldn’t have brought you here.” leaning back, his eyes seem to be darker than before and his pushed back hair is starting to come loose, “should’ve known i’d be all over his pretty little girlfriend.”

even though you hate yourself for it, you nod.

“that’s right,” he brings his hand up to your jaw, grazing his thumb against your lower lip and then pushing into your mouth, index and middle finger soon to follow, “make sure they’re nice and wet, we don’t have much time.”

he’s not nice and doting, not asking what you want like colt always does. he just takes with expectations – ones you are more than willing to meet. so you lock your eyes with his as you gag on his fingers alone, knowing to heed his warning; you try to soak them in your own drool.

when your eyes are brimming with tears, he pushes down even further, causing you to cough and the tears to flow over.

“crying, already?” he coos. “he must treat you like you’re made of glass, hm?”

leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulls out, he breaks free from the hold your legs had around his waist. there’s a short laugh leaving him when he’s giving you another once-over and then nods.

“stand up,” tugging at your dress, he seems impatient, “told you we don’t have a lot of time.”

as soon as you slide down, porco turns you around and presses you up against the sink, cold stone digging into your hips as he bends you forward. looking up, you see the reflection of yourself and him in the mirror in front of you. catching a glimpse of his smirk, you look back down.

as long as you’re not looking at him, you wouldn’t feel as bad and that’s why you train your gaze on how your hands are grabbing the edge of the sink.

his hands slip under your dress, he’s quick to pull your panties aside before gliding his thumb through your slick folds. “so wet already.”

one hand placed on your ass, thumb holding your underwear in place, he slides his fingers into you without any warning. your walls tighten around him instantly, causing you to bite down on your tongue to hold back the moan that otherwise would’ve filled the room.

“c’mon, tell me how good i feel,” his digits pumping in and out of your already throbbing cunt, obscene sounds bouncing off the tiled walls, “how much better i feel than he does.”

“some-” - trying to collect your thoughts while also fucking yourself onto porco’s fingers leaves you breathless, “someone’s gonna hear.”

all he does is laugh when he pulls out one final time and goes to circle your clit, leaving you to clench around nothing and bucking onto the ball of his thumb until he completely pulls away from you.

legs already shaking and head hanging low, you hear him unbuckling his belt and spit into the palm of his hand. the groan coming from him sends waves of heat up your spine and you try to brace yourself for what’s going to follow.

pulling your panties down and bunching up your dress in one hand, the thick head of porco’s dick is already pushing into of you, causing you to hold your breath because you know he isn’t planning on letting you adjust to his size.

and you were right. even with his fingers stretching you out, you’re struggling to fit him but he keeps on pressing into you, leaving you to suck in the air through gritted teeth.

“look at her,” you hear coming from behind, “how hard she tries.”

with your brain in a haze, you know you should wonder about what he’s saying but you don’t. you’re too concentrated on how good he feels inside of you. and how wrong at the same time, but this only makes your pulse quicken even more.

to know the others are in the room next door, having no clue about how you’re being spread open on porco’s dick, having no idea that you’re nothing but a cheating whore, has walls fluttering around his length.

and when he finally bottoms out, he starts pulling back out. at a mind numbingly slow pace, you feel him come to a halt before he leaves you feeling empty again.

“don’t stop,” being the only thing to leave your lips, “porco, i dare-“

“hear her begging?” he places his hand on your hip and pulls you back onto his dick, “i bet she never begs like this when you’re the one fucking her.”

driving his hips forward again, he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you that makes you forget about how you wanted to be quiet. the moan escaping your lips as he switches to a steady pace.

“oh, she sounds so sweet,” his laugh is breathless this time, “you never told me how good she sounds, colt.”

as soon as you hear the name of your boyfriend, you look into the mirror to see porco holding his phone in one hand, obviously filming himself thrusting into your cunt. stuttering in your movements, he lifts his gaze from his phone and smirks back at your reflection in the mirror.

“c’mon now, keep fucking yourself on my cock,” he reaches forward, wrapping his free hand around your throat, “be a good girl for me, and i might let you do it again.”

raising the phone, he now films your reflection.

and you know you shouldn’t look straight into the camera and push back onto porco. it’s too late now, you think, too late to go back so you might as well enjoy yourself.

“tell him how good i feel,” his words are coming slurry now.

and with his tight balls slapping against your clit, with him continuously hitting the right spot, you nod, “feels- feels so good.”

“that’s what i thought,” letting go of your throat, he quickened his pace, “little whore that you are- one dick isn’t enough for you, huh?”

his hand sliding down your side, he reaches in front of you to rub circles against your clit again. the sensation of watching him do that, hearing him moan as you clench your walls around his dick and at the thought of all of it being filmed for your boyfriend to watch has you losing your mind.

“you-“ you turn your head to him now, graze your lips against his jaw, “your dick is enough.”

“hear- hear that, colt,” he groans, “my-“

his hips stuttering against your ass, he places the phone on the counter in front of you, grabbing your hips instead.

seeing him losing his cool pushes you over the edge, slapping one hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of your moans as your whole body trembles, heat rushing over you with every thrust he makes.

porco shoves your hand away the moment he realizes you’re trying to stay quiet, “let him hear.”

and you do. you couldn’t care less at this point, so the breathed “you fuck me so good,” flows from your lips naturally.

his fingers dig into your soft skin as he pulls you down onto his dick and holds you there, pumping his hot load into you, his cock twitching inside of you as a low “fuuuck-“ leaves him.

you stay like this for only a few seconds, and then he reaches back for his phone, turning the camera to face him. he makes a peace-sign before bringing it back between the two of you, filming how he pulls out of your cunt.

“will you look at that,” he spreads your cheeks to allow a better view.

feeling his and your cum drip down your thighs, you shudder at the thought of what you’ve just done – and even more when you realize how badly you want to do it again.

taglist: @odmlevis, @inumakizone, @blondeboyfriend, @peachysimp, @droolingoverfanfics, @starrynightlys wanna be tagged in my next work? fill out this form.

[erenscherub]

chapter 3 | series masterlist | chapter 5

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 '𝐢'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲.'

chapter summary: zeke trademarks Y.A.D and YASH.

warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of violence

word count: 3.0 k

It takes Eren awhile to process why all his friends and family are here. He got distracted at the office with his co-worker. And then he tried his best to scrub all the trace evidence that could implicate him of his rendezvous before speeding home to his beautiful wife and child.

Then he sees the birthday cake and presents on the console table in the center of the living room. Realization hits him like a sucker-punch from horse-face.

He forgot your birthday.

“Oh shit.”

Cyrus shakes his head in disappointment, while holding his hands over six-year-old Falco’s ears. His daughter has scampered off the couch to shove the swear jar at him. Eren wordlessly takes out his wallet, throwing a twenty dollar bill into the container.

He knows he’s fucked up when he sees you quickly turn away from him and use your hair as a curtain to hide your facial expressions from everyone’s prying eyes.

No one has seen you cry. Not your husband. Not your daughter. Not your in-laws. None of your friends.

You didn’t cry when Eren first met you when you were an anxious third year medical student and a hostile patient was screaming in your face that you were a worthless quack doctor that was also a waste of tax money, air, and space. You didn’t cry when Jean and Eren got too physical and Jean unintentionally shoved you down two flights of stairs when he was rushing at Eren. Even when X-Rays showed you had fractured your wrist and Zeke confirmed you had a serious concussion, your face was just blank the entire time. You didn’t even shed a tear on your wedding day or when you were in labor for 17 hours to bring your little girl into the world.

You’re crying now. And it’s all because of Eren.

He was already on thin ice. Even the kids were starting to gang up on him. Eren is struggling to come up with the right words to say. I love you’s definitely aren’t going to cut it this time. There’s nothing better than starting with ‘I’m sorry.’ Right?

You’re turning on your heel trying to head towards the stairs as fast as possible. Your husband is trailing behind you still stuttering apologies. Eren is nothing but persistent as he sputters, “Baby, I’m sorry. Please wait. I love you! Come here, beautiful! Where are you going?” Eren has rapidly closed the distance between you two. “I’m really sorry, baby. About your birthday and the ultrasound appointments and our anniversary and the wedding ring. There’s just this important project that’s taking up all my attention at the office. And I just forgot my wedding ring at my desk. That’s all.”

When he tries to embrace you, you slap his hands away and continue to attempt to keep as much distance as you can between you two. You’re too collected and too level-headed. He wants you to scream and rage at him and curse him out instead of trying to calmly walk away.

Even when you were pissed that Eren stood you up for your wedding anniversary dinner, you weren’t this unfazed and composed. When you got home, you told Colt, Annie, Mikasa, and Petra that you needed some time and space to process your feelings. On a whim, you took Eliza with you and flew 2,000 miles away to California just so you could get away from their prying eyes. In the ten plus years everyone has known you, that was the most impulsive decision you’ve made.

You didn’t make a spreadsheet of pros and cons as usual like you did for major decisions like whether you wanted to move to New Hampshire and each of the four times he proposed to you. You didn’t even pick up any of Eren’s phone calls or texts because you both knew that you wouldn’t be able to remain cool-headed.

You have to be rational and remain calm and composed as a physician. You need to have empathy for your patients, it helps guide your treatment plans and it’s the reason why you pursued medicine in the first place. But getting too attached can be draining and is a recipe for burnout. If you get too emotional, you’re more impulsive and can make mistakes that can cost someone their life. You need to be composed and objective since over-identifying with patients can negatively impact both you as a physician and your patient.

Yet when you’re this collected and composed with your husband. Eren wonders if you’re beginning to see your relationship with him more objectively too.

Eren normally towers over you. Not when you’re four steps above him. Now you’re both eye to eye.

You used to love staring into Eren’s green eyes. Every time you looked at them, it was a kaleidoscope of changing colors to reflect back his mood. Sea-green when he was excited or happy. Jade when he was angry or sad or disappointed. Forest green when concerned or anxious. Emerald when he was thinking about someone he loved.

When you stand eye level with him, you’re not sure how to describe this shade. It’s a dull and dark hue. His eyes are not as pretty when they’re this lackluster and murky.

His tone and posture reflect he’s genuinely remorseful. Yet, he’s not remorseful where it counts. All you see is jade or this lackluster hue reflected back at you when you’re with him.

But they still light up emerald around Eliza.

They’re always a brilliant shade of emerald when he’s around her.

Your face is blank and your tone flat. “I completely get it now, so stop wasting your breath. If it’s a project or coffee date with your work wife, it’s important.” You scoff, “My ultrasound appointments. Our wedding anniversary. My birthday. Your wedding band. If it’s important, then you’ll remember it right?” You shake your head as you continue walking up the stairs.

You’re thankful Eren takes the hint and doesn’t follow you.

Eren groans as he collapses on the console table. He leans over and the roots of his dark hair are pulled taut as he rakes his fingers through the strands. “She hates me.”

Mikasa, Annie, and Petra trailed behind you. They’re patiently waiting outside the guest bathroom to console you once you’re ready to let them in. Their first priority is making sure you’re ok. Eren knows that after fixing another one of his fuck-ups, their next priority is that after they’re done with him, he won’t be.

He noticed that Colt was about to follow you as well until Zeke gripped his shoulder and told him to let your three other friends handle it for now.

Eliza saunters up to her father and tries to give him a comforting pat on the back. She allows him to pull her into his lap and embrace her tightly. “It’s ok, Daddy. I’m sure Momma doesn’t hate you.” Eren presses a kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head and inhales the scent of her strawberry-scented shampoo to help calm him down.

This is the first time in the last couple of weeks that his daughter allowed him to hold her close. Eliza again pats her father’s hand.

“Momma just thinks you’re a horrible husband.”

Kids really are too fucking honest.

Eliza’s words have Zeke, Connie, Colt, and Jean all snorting. Eren can tell that Eliza still is not finished at her poor attempts to comfort him since she’s getting off of his lap to look him in the eye. Thank God she’s interrupted as Petra calls out to her from the guest bedroom. “Ellie, can you come up the stairs? We need your help with something.”

Her eyes light up at the thought of being able to contribute to make her mom feel better. “Coming, Aunt Petra!” Before she darts up the stairs, she turns to Eren with a bright grin. “It’s gonna be fine, Daddy. Just stop being a stupid meanie to Momma and everything will be great again!”

Ouch.

His daughter really knows how to drive her point home.

Cyrus places his hands to cover Falco’s ears again as Eren releases another groan and a few more curses. Zeke turns to the kids on the couch as he brings out his wallet.

Zeke ruffles both boys’ hair. “Hey sports! How many curses does $5 get me?”

Cyrus beams up at him as Falco whips out the swear jar. “Depends on the swear. If it’s really bad like what Uncle Eren said, then $20 for just that one swear.” Cyrus tilts his head from side to side as he makes eye contact with Falco.

Zeke doesn’t even bother trying to understand their secret language. Cyrus wiggles his eyebrows four times. They both wait a few seconds before shaking their heads. Falco tilts his head from side to side. Then Falco blinks twice and then coughs five times. Cyrus shakes his head no. Then when Falco clicks his tongue three times, Cyrus nods, and it seems the two have come to some sort of agreement.

After this exchange between the two children, Falco suggests, “But Uncle Zeke, since you seem cool and the two cakes you helped make were pretty good...” Falco pauses for a few seconds and exchanges a smirk with Cyrus.

Cyrus continues where Falco left off. “I guess if you offer up $15, you can say any curse word of your choice and then we all go on our merry separate ways.” Zeke’s impressed. The two kids are a good team. Falco seemed to come up with the plan and Cyrus is quite the sweet talker. Zeke shakes on it with both Falco and Cyrus. Zeke drops three crumpled bills into the container.

Cyrus makes sure to clasp his hands over Falco’s ears again as soon as Zeke begins approaching his younger brother.

Zeke places his hand on Eren’s shoulder.

Yeah Eren is already beating himself up. But at the same time he has to look out for his protégée. Kid Flash is his favorite sibling after all. He’d take your side any day, even if you’re in the wrong because Eren is kind of an asshole.

Especially since Eren is an asshole.

“Eren, I have a diagnosis for your little memory problem. Y.A.D. You’d be surprised how common it is. Afflicts a large number of husbands across the world who take their wives for granted.” Zeke mockingly shakes his head in disapproval at his younger brother.

Eren peers up at his older brother and rolls his eyes. “I don’t speak smartass. Just hurry up and spit out what it stands for, asshole.”

“You’re a dumbass. I guess Y.A.S.H. or YASH applies to you too. You’re a shit husband. YASH sounds a lot catchier actually.”

Eren lets out another huff of air as he loosens his tie. “What is it? Shit on Eren day,” he angrily scoffs while he begins to roll up his sleeves.

After his outburst with the cake fiasco, Cyrus has been pretty calm and seemed more adamant on making sure Falco is protected from the adults’ curses. He’s in a much better mood after his bubble bath, but he still hates Eren.

Cyrus is a little too smug as he pipes up, “That’ll be another twenty dollars from you, Eren. Don’t pass your potty mouth onto my brother!” He shakes his head with a scowl. “Aunt (Y/N) should wash your mouth out with soap. And to answer your question, it is when you forget Aunt (Y/N)’s birthday!” Zeke, Colt, Jean, and Connie nod their heads in agreement with the child’s statement.

Jean lets out a whistle as he lays back in the recliner. “Come on, man. We’ve been throwing her a surprise party for years ever since she moved to New Hampshire for you.” He shakes his head. “I’m honestly surprised she didn’t just stay in California and mail you divorce papers when you stood her up for hours at the wedding anniversary dinner that you rescheduled and after you also missed both ultrasound appointments. (Y/N) is a saint after all.” Eren knows that Jean, Connie, Zeke, and even five-year-old Cyrus all have valid points.

Eren knows that he’s a shit husband for already forgetting two special occasions. You’ve always been way too good for him. He was lucky then that you gave him a chance. And he’s lucky now that you haven’t left him yet.

You manage to lock the door to the bathroom before Mikasa can catch you.

Why is it that you’re never enough for him?

Why can’t you be as attractive or as charming as her?

Why can’t he just let you go already?

Is he only staying for Eliza?

When did he fall out of love with you?

Was it your fault?

You’re trying to get a hold of yourself. There’s still guests in the house. Petra, Mikasa, and Annie are just outside the bathroom door. Eliza, Falco, and Cyrus are downstairs. You don’t want to make a scene.

But you just can’t help yourself from shrinking yourself into a ball on the tiled floor of the guest bathroom. It’s getting harder to swallow down the lump in your throat. Your chest is constricting. Then before you know it, your vision is blurry. Deep breaths don’t help when you’re stuttering, gasping, and wheezing with each inhalation.

He forgot the ultrasound appointments. He forgot your wedding anniversary. He forgot your birthday. He forgot his wedding band.

You don’t know why you’re trying to remember all the good times with him when Eren’s already forgotten all about you.

As soon as you hear knocking on the door, you turn on the shower. You hope the sound of running water is enough to insulate any noises in the bathroom from reaching the people just a few feet outside. When you taste salt on your tongue, that’s when you strip off your dress and drag yourself into the tub.

With the shower curtain, the running water hitting your form, and the bathroom door that thankfully Annie or Mikasa haven’t kicked down yet, you feel as if you have some semblance of privacy. You’re curled up into a ball in the tub and you relish in the feeling of the hot water mixing in with your tears.

You allow yourself to feel everything and all at once.

Since finding out about the affair with his co-worker, you’re surprised at your self-restraint. You don’t know how you’ve made it this far without snapping and ending up on the news with the headlines “Black Widow: the story of the woman behind America’s most brutal mariticide to date.”

You don’t know how you can fake a smile and play house with your lying, philandering, whore-frog of a husband who doesn’t even show the slightest bit of guilt or remorse for trampling all over trust and heart. You don’t know how you’re able to treat that little home wrecker with respect and not throw yourself out of a window when she always refers to you as one of her closest friends.

You don’t know why you’re still with him and why you haven’t talked about his infidelity at all with anyone.

Why is it so hard for you to leave Eren when all he’s done is hurt you?

Why is it so hard for you to not be ashamed of something that someone else did to you?

You can’t go back in time to fix any of your problems. You’re not sure you even would. As much as you hate Eren, you love Eliza ten times more.

There’s moments when you see how well Eren cares for your daughter.

Every Wednesday, he shows up on your front door with a red rose to take her out on a daddy-daughter date. He wants to show her that any person interested in pursuing her needs to treat her with kindness and patience and love. Whenever she’s done showering, he helps gently coax out any stubborn knots out of her hair. He shows up to every one of her swim meets and award ceremonies and school performances.

Even when he’s tired from work or from fucking his co-worker’s brains out, he’ll go to Eliza’s room to remove her socks that she was too tired to take off. He’ll kiss her on the forehead and tell her that you and her are the most precious things in his life. He repeats it over and over that he loves you both more than his own life. If he makes it early enough where she’s still settling into bed, he spoils her by reading as many bed stories as she wants and as many times as she wants. And if she’s already asleep, he’ll spend at least ten minutes making sure she’s comfortable and tucked in tightly and is having sweet dreams. He’ll whisper that he loves her and place a kiss on the crown of her head.

Even with the rare occasion that she is a stubborn little asshole and she’s throwing the mother of all tantrums because Eren did something dumb and why isn’t her mom here and she doesn’t want Eren and she just wants her mom, he’s still patient. He’ll hold her until she’s done crying it out. When Eliza calms down and says she’s sorry for ‘being a meanie,’ he accepts her apology. When he disciplines her, he always reminds her that it’s not her that he dislikes but her actions.

Eliza always knows that Eren loves her.

It’s why you still love Eren even if he doesn’t love you.

It’s moments like those where you feel something foreign, a feeling almost like genuine happiness creeping into your heart. You love him because of how immensely he loves your daughter.

Those moments are a reminder that you love him as much as you hate him. It would be more rational that after so much time with him and after so many times he’s disrespected you and your marriage vows that it should be either one or the other.

The reason why you’ve stayed with him for this long, even with knowledge of his betrayal, is because you’ve simply chosen to do both.

A/N: everyone please send a thank you to @izukine for making my blog aesthetically pleasing. Love you Lee-Lee. Thank you so much again for everything, bubz!

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